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diff --git a/38648-h/38648-h.htm b/38648-h/38648-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..39a847d --- /dev/null +++ b/38648-h/38648-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,33583 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Julia Ward Howe, by Laura E. Richards and Maude Howe Elliot. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + margin: 3em auto 3em auto; + height: 0px; + border-width: 1px 0 0 0; + border-style: solid; + border-color: #dcdcdc; + width: 500px; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +table.toc { + margin: auto; + width: 50%; +} + +td.c1 { + text-align: right; + vertical-align: top; + padding-right: 1em; +} + +td.c2 { + text-align: left; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 2em; + text-indent: -2em; + padding-right: 1em; + vertical-align: top; +} + +td.c3 { + text-align: right; + padding-left: 1em; + vertical-align: bottom; +} + +td { padding: 0em 1em; } +th { padding: 0em 1em; } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: #999; +} /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + .center {text-align: center;} + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .gap { margin-top: 1em; } + +/* Images */ + .figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + .bord img { + padding: 1px; + border: 1px solid black; +} + +p.caption { + margin-top: 0; + font-size: 70%; + text-align: left; +} + +p.caption2 { + margin-top: 0; + font-size: 70%; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Transcriber Notes */ +div.tn { + background-color: #EEE; + border: dashed 1px; + color: #000; + margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + margin-top: 5em; + margin-bottom: 5em; + padding: 1em; +} + +ul.corrections { + list-style-type: circle; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +div.fn { + background-color: #EEE; + border: dashed 1px; + color: #000; + margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + margin-top: 5em; + margin-bottom: 5em; + padding: 1em; +} + + .footnote { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 0.9em; +} + + .footnote .label { + position: absolute; + right: 84%; + text-align: right; +} + + .fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none; +} + + .signature { + text-align: right; + margin-right: 5%; +} + + .signature2 { + text-align: right; + margin-right: 15%; +} + .signature3 { + text-align: right; + margin-right: 45%; +} + + +/* INDEX */ +ul.index { list-style-type: none; + width: 20em; + margin: 2em auto; +} + +ul.index2 { list-style-type: none; } + +li.pad { padding-top: 2.0%; } + + </style> + </head> + + + + + + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Julia Ward Howe, by +Laura E. Richards and Maud Howe Elliott + +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: Julia Ward Howe + 1819-1910 + +Author: Laura E. Richards + Maud Howe Elliott + +Release Date: January 23, 2012 [EBook #38648] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JULIA WARD HOWE *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Julia Neufeld and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 406px;"><br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="406" height="600" alt="cover" title="cover" /> +</div> + + + + +<h3> +JULIA WARD HOWE<br /> +1819-1910<br /> +VOLUME I +</h3> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 416px;"><br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="JULIA WARD HOWE +" title="JULIA WARD HOWE" /> +<span class="caption">JULIA WARD HOWE<br /> + +<i>From a photograph by J. J. Hawes, about 1861</i></span> +</div> + + + + +<h1> +JULIA WARD HOWE<br /> +1819-1910</h1> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>LAURA E. RICHARDS<br /> +<span class="smcap"><small>AND</small></span> MAUD HOWE ELLIOTT</h2> + +<h4> +ASSISTED BY<br /></h4> +<h2>FLORENCE HOWE HALL<br /> +<br /></h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 117px;"> +<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="117" height="125" alt="Publisher's Mark" title="Publisher's Mark" /> +</div> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<br /> +TWO VOLUMES IN ONE<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +BOSTON AND NEW YORK<br /> +HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY<br /> +The Riverside Press Cambridge<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY LAURA E. RICHARDS AND MAUD HOWE ELLIOTT<br /> +<br /> +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE<br /> +THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +The Riverside Press<br /> +CAMBRIDGE-MASSACHUSETTS<br /> +PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.<br /><br /><br /><br /> +TO<br /> +HENRY MARION HOWE<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align="right">I.</td><td align="left">ANCESTRAL.</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II.</td><td align="left">LITTLE JULIA WARD. 1819-1835</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III.</td><td align="left">"THE CORNER." 1835-1839</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV.</td><td align="left">GIRLHOOD. 1839-1843</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V.</td><td align="left">TRAVEL. 1843-1844</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI.</td><td align="left">SOUTH BOSTON. 1844-1851</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII.</td><td align="left">"PASSION FLOWERS." 1852-1858</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII.</td><td align="left">LITTLE SAMMY: THE CIVIL WAR. 1859-1863</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX.</td><td align="left">NO. 13 CHESTNUT STREET, BOSTON. 1864</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X.</td><td align="left">THE WIDER OUTLOOK. 1865</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI.</td><td align="left">NO. 19 BOYLSTON PLACE: "LATER LYRICS." 1866</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII.</td><td align="left">GREECE AND OTHER LANDS. 1867</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII.</td><td align="left">CONCERNING CLUBS. 1867-1871</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV.</td><td align="left">THE PEACE CRUSADE. 1870-1872</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV.</td><td align="left">SANTO DOMINGO. 1872-1874</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVI.</td><td align="left">THE LAST OF GREEN PEACE. 1872-1876</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_339">339</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVII.</td><td align="left">THE WOMAN'S CAUSE. 1868-1910</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_358">358</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="JULIA_WARD_HOWE" id="JULIA_WARD_HOWE"></a>JULIA WARD HOWE</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"> </a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>ANCESTRAL</h3> + +<p> +These are my people, quaint and ancient,<br /> +Gentlefolks with their prim old ways;<br /> +This, their leader come from England,<br /> +Governed a State in early days.<br /> + +<br /> +* * * * * * <br /> + +I must vanish with my ancients,<br /> +But a golden web of love<br /> +Is around us and beneath us,<br /> +Binds us to our home above.<br /> +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 10em;">Julia Ward Howe.</span> +</p> + +<p><br />Our mother was once present at a meeting where +there was talk of ancestry and heredity. One of the +speakers dwelt largely upon the sins of the fathers. +He drew stern pictures of the vice, the barbarism, the +heathenism of the "good old times," and ended by +saying with emphasis that he felt himself "<i>bowed down +beneath the burden of the sins of his ancestors</i>."</p> + +<p>Our mother was on her feet in a flash.</p> + +<p>"Mr. So-and-So," she said, "is bowed down by the +sins of his ancestors. I wish to say that all my life I +have been buoyed up and lifted on by the remembrance +of the virtues of mine!"</p> + +<p>These words are so characteristic of her, that in beginning +the story of her life it seems proper to dwell +at some length on the ancestors whose memory she +cherished with such reverence.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>The name of Ward occurs first on the roll of Battle +Abbey: "Seven hundred and ten distinguished persons" +accompanied William of Normandy to England, +among them "Ward, one of the noble captains."</p> + +<p>Her first known ancestor, John Ward, of Gloucester, +England, sometime cavalry officer in Cromwell's army, +came to this country after the Restoration and settled +at Newport in Rhode Island. His son Thomas married +Amy Smith, a granddaughter of Roger Williams. +Thomas's son Richard became Governor of Rhode +Island and had fourteen children, among them Samuel, +who in turn became Governor of the Colony, and a +member of the Continental Congress. He was the only +Colonial governor who refused to take the oath to enforce +the Stamp Act. In 1775, in the Continental Congress, +he was made Chairman of the Committee of the +Whole, which from 1774 to 1776 sat daily, working +without intermission in the cause of independence. +But though one of the framers of the "Declaration," +he was not destined to be a "signer." John Adams +says of him, "When he was seized with the smallpox +he said that if his vote and voice were necessary to +support the cause of his country, he should live; if not, +he should die. He died, and the cause of his country +was supported, but it lost one of its most sincere and +punctual advocates."</p> + +<p>The correspondence between Governor Ward and +General Washington has been preserved. In one letter +the latter says: "I think, should occasion offer, I shall +be able to give you a good account of your son, as he +seems a sensible, well-informed young man."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>This young man was Samuel Ward, Lieutenant-Colonel +of the First Rhode Island Regiment, and our +mother's grandfather.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>In Trumbull's painting of the Attack on Quebec in +1776, there is a portrait of Lieutenant-Colonel Ward, +a young, active figure with sword uplifted. His life +was full of stirring incident. In 1775 he received his +commission as Captain, and was one of two hundred +and fifty of the Rhode Island troops who volunteered +to join Benedict Arnold's command of eleven hundred +men, ordered to advance by way of the Kennebec River +to reinforce General Montgomery at Quebec. In a +letter to his family, dated Point-aux-Trembles, November +26, 1775, Captain Ward says: "We were +thirty days in the wilderness, that none but savages +ever attempted to pass. We marched a hundred miles +upon shore with only three days' provisions, waded +over three rapid rivers, marched through snow and ice +barefoot, passed over the St. Lawrence where it was +guarded by the enemy's frigates, and are now resting +about twenty-four miles from the city to recruit our +worn-out natures. General Montgomery intends to +join us immediately, so that we have a winter's campaign +before us. But I trust we shall have the glory +of taking Quebec!"</p> + +<p>The young soldier's hopes were vain. He was taken +prisoner with many of his men while gallantly defending +a difficult position, and spent a year in prison. On +his release he rejoined the army of Washington and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +fought through the greater part of the Revolution, +rising to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. He was at +Peekskill, Valley Forge, and Red Bank, and wrote the +official account of the last-named battle, which may be +found in Washington's correspondence.</p> + +<p>During the terrible winter at Valley Forge, Lieutenant-Colonel +Ward obtained a month's furlough, wooed +and married his cousin, Phœbe Greene (daughter of +Governor William Greene, of Rhode Island, and of the +beautiful Catherine Ray, +<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> + + of Block Island), and returned +to the snows and starvation of the winter camp. +Our mother was very proud of her great-grandmother +Catherine's memory, treasured her rat-tail spoons and +her wedding stockings of orange silk, and was fond +of telling how Benjamin Franklin admired and corresponded +with her. Some of Franklin's letters have +been preserved. He speaks of his wife as the "old +lady," but says he has got so used to her faults that +they are like his own—he does not recognize them +any more. In one letter he gives the following advice +to the lovely Catherine: "Kill no more Pigeons than +you can eat. Go constantly to meeting or to church—till +you get a good husband; then stay at home and +nurse the children and live like a Christian."</p> + +<p>Some years after the Revolution, Colonel Ward was +in Paris on a business errand. He kept a record of his +stay there in a parchment pocket-book, where among +technical entries are found brief comments on matters +of general interest. One day the Colonel tells of a dinner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +party where he met Vergniaud and other prominent +revolutionists. He was surprised to find them +such plain men; "yet were they exceeding warm." +On December 29,1792, he notes: "Dined with Gouverneur +Morris. Served upon plate—good wines—his +Kitchen neither french or English, but between both. +Servants french, apartments good.... I have visited +the halls of painting and sculpture at the Louvre. The +peices [sic] are all called <i>chef d'œuvres</i> by connoisseurs. +The oldest are thought the best, I cannot tell why, +though some of the old peices are very good. Milo +riving the oak is good...."</p> + +<p>He went to the theatre, and observed that the features +which appeared to him most objectionable were +specially applauded by the audience.</p> + +<p>Briefly, amid items of the sale of land, he thus notes +the execution of Louis XVI:—</p> + +<p>"January 15th. The convention has this day decided +upon two questions on the King; one that he was +guilty, another that the question should not be sent to +the people.</p> + +<p>"January 17th. The convention up all night upon +the question of the King's sentence. At eleven this +night the question was determined—the sentence of +death was pronounced. 366 death—319 seclusion or +banishment—36 various—majority of 5 absolute—the +King caused an appeal to be made to the people, +which was not allowed; thus the convention have been +the accusers, the judges, and will be the executors of +their own sentence—this will cause a great degree +of astonishment in America....</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>"January 21st. Went to the Pont Royal to pass it at +nine o'clock. Guards prevented me from going over. I +had engaged to pass this day, which is one of horror, at +Versailles, with Mr. Morris. The King was beheaded +at eleven o'clock. Guards, at an early hour, took possession +of the <i>Place Louis XV</i>, and were posted in each +avenue. The most profound peace prevailed. Those +who had feeling lamented in secret in their houses, or +had left town. Others showed the same levity or barbarous +indifference as on former occasions. Hichborn, +Henderson, and Johnson went to see the execution, for +which, as an American, I was sorry. The King desired +to speak. He had only time to say he was innocent, and +forgave his enemies. He behaved with the fortitude of +a martyr. Santerre ordered the [executioner] to dispatch +him. At twelve the streets were again all open."</p> + +<p>There is a tradition that when Colonel Ward quitted +Paris, with a party of friends, the carriage was driven +by a disguised nobleman, who thus escaped the +guillotine.</p> + +<p>Our mother remembered him as a "gentleman advanced +in years, with courtly manner and mild blue +eyes, which were, in spite of their mildness, very +observing."</p> + +<p>She inherited many traits from the Wards, among +them a force and integrity of purpose, a strength of +character, and a certain business instinct which sometimes +cropped up when least expected, and which +caused some of her family to call her the "banker's +daughter."</p> + +<p>Those were also solid qualities which she inherited<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +from the Rhode Island Greenes. Greenes of Warwick, +Greenes of East Greenwich; all through Colonial and +Revolutionary history we find their names. Sturdy, +active, patriotic men: Generals, Colonels, and Governors +of "Rhode Island and Providence Plantations," +chief among them Governor William Greene, the +"War Governor," and General Nathanael Greene of +glorious memory.</p> + +<p>Our liveliest association with the name of Greene +is the memory of Mrs. Nancy Greene, first cousin of +our grandfather Ward and daughter-in-law of the General +who died in Middletown, Rhode Island, in 1886, +at the age of one hundred and two. This lady was dear +to our mother as the one remaining link with her +father's generation. A visit to "Cousin Nancy" was +one of her great pleasures, and we children were +happy if we were allowed to accompany her. The old +lady sat erect and dignified in her straight-backed +chair, and the two discoursed at length of days gone +by. To Cousin Nancy "Julia" was always young, +though the "Battle Hymn of the Republic" was already +written when the old lady charged her to "cultivate +a literary taste." On another occasion—it +was one of the later visits—she said with emphasis, +"Julia, do not allow yourself to grow old! When you +feel that you <i>cannot</i> do a thing, <i>get up and do it!</i>" Julia +never forgot this advice.</p> + +<p>Cousin Nancy never read a novel in her life, as she +announced with pride. She wished to read the "Annals +of the Schönberg-Cotta Family," but, finding it to be a +work of fiction, decided not to break her rule. She was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +a fond and pious mother; when her son needed chastisement, +she would pray over him so long that he +would cry out, "Mother, it is time to begin whipping!"</p> + +<p>If Julia Ward was part Ward and Greene, she was +quite as much Cutler and Marion; it is to this descent +that we must turn for the best explanation of her +many-sided character.</p> + +<p>When she said of any relation, however distant, "He +is a Cutler!" it meant that she recognized in that person +certain qualities—a warmth of temperament, a +personality glowing, sparkling, effervescent—akin to +her own. If in addition to these qualities the person +had red hair, she took him to her heart, and he could +do no wrong. All this, and a host of tender associations +beside, the name of Cutler meant to her; yet it +may be questioned whether any of these characteristics +would have appeared in the descendants of Johannes +Demesmaker, worthy citizen of Holland, who, +coming to this country in 1674, changed his name to +Cutler for convenience' sake, had not one of these +descendants, Benjamin Clarke Cutler, married Sarah +(Mitchell) Hyrne, daughter of Thomas Mitchell and +Esther (or Hester) Marion.</p> + +<p>To most people, the name of Marion suggests one +person only,—General Francis Marion of Revolutionary +fame; yet it was the grandfather of the General, +Benjamin Marion, of La Rochelle, who was the first of +the name to settle in this country, coming hither when +the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes drove the +Huguenots into exile. Brigadier-General Peter Horry,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span><a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> +friend and biographer of General Marion, quotes the +letter which told Benjamin of his banishment:—</p> + + +<blockquote><p>Your damnable heresy well deserves, even in this +life, that purgation by fire which awfully awaits it in +the next. But in consideration of your youth and worthy +connections, our mercy has condescended to commute +your punishment to perpetual exile. You will, +therefore, instantly prepare to quit your country forever, +for, if after ten days from the date hereof, you +should be found in any part of the kingdom, your miserable +body shall be consumed by fire and your impious +ashes scattered on the winds of heaven.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +(Signed) +<span class="smcap">Père Rochelle.</span><br /> +</div></blockquote> + + +<p>Within the ten days Benjamin Marion had wound +up his affairs, married his betrothed, Judith Baluet, +and was on his way to America to seek his fortune. He +bought a plantation on Goose Creek, near Charleston, +South Carolina, and here he and his Judith lived for +many peaceful years in content and prosperity, seeing +their children grow up around them.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> +<p>Gabriel Marion, the eldest son of Benjamin, married +a young woman, also of Huguenot blood, Charlotte +Cordés or Corday, said to have been a relative of the +other Charlotte Corday, the heroine of the French +Revolution. To this couple were born six children, the +eldest being Esther, our mother's great-grandmother, +the youngest, Francis, who was to become the "Swamp +Fox" of Revolutionary days.</p> + +<p>Esther Marion has been called the "Queen Bee" of +the Marion hive; she had fifteen children, and her descendants +have multiplied and spread in every direction. +She was twice married, first to John Allston, of Georgetown, +or Waccamaw, secondly to Thomas Mitchell, +of Georgetown. The only one of the fifteen children +with whom we have concern is Sarah Mitchell, the +"Grandma Cutler" of Julia Ward's childhood. This +lady was married at fourteen to Dr. Hyrne, an officer of +Washington's army. Julia well remembered her saying +that after her engagement, she wept on being told +that she must give up her dolls.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>Dr. Hyrne lived but a short time, and four years +after his death the twenty-year-old widow married +Benjamin Clarke Cutler, then a widower, Sheriff of +Norfolk County, Massachusetts, and third in descent +from John Demesmaker,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> before mentioned, sometime +physician and surgeon.</p> + +<p>Our mother was much attached to "Grandma Cutler," +and speaks thus of her in a sketch entitled "The +Elegant Literature of Sixty Years Ago": "Grandma +will read Owen Feltham's 'Resolves,' albeit the print +is too small for her eyes. She knows Pope and Crabbe +by heart, admires Shenstone, and tells me which scenes +are considered finest in this or that of Scott's novels. +Calling one day upon a compeer of her own age, she +was scandalized to find her occupied with a silly story +called 'Jimmy Jessamy.'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cutler had known General Washington, and was +fond of telling how at a ball the Commander-in-Chief +crossed the room to speak to her. Many of her letters +have been preserved, and show a sprightliness which is +well borne out by her portrait, that of a charming old +lady in a turban, with bright eyes and a humorous +mouth.</p> + +<p>A word remains to be said about General Francis +Marion himself. This hero of history, song, and romance +was childless; our mother could claim as near +relationship to him as could any of her generation. She +was extremely proud of this kinship, and no one who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +knew her could doubt that from the Marions she inherited +many vital qualities. One winter, toward the +end of her life, there was a meeting at the Old South +Church at which—as at the gathering described at the +beginning of this chapter—there was talk of ancestry +and kindred topics. The weather was stormy, our +mother well on in the eighties, but she was there. Being +called on to speak, she made a brief address in the +course of which she alluded to her Southern descent, +and to General Francis Marion, her great-great-uncle. +As she spoke her eyes lightened with mirth, in the way +we all remember: "General Marion," she said, "was +known in his generation as the 'Swamp Fox'; and when +I succeed in eluding the care of my guardians, children +and grandchildren, and coming to a meeting like +this, I think I may be said to have inherited some of +his characteristics!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>LITTLE JULIA WARD</h3> + +<h4>1819-1835; <i>aet.</i> 1-16</h4> + +<p>FROM MY NURSERY: FORTY-SIX YEARS AGO</p> + + +<p> +When I was a little child,<br /> +Said my passionate nurse, and wild:<br /> +"Wash you, children, clean and white;<br /> +God may call you any night."<br /> +<br /> +Close my tender brother clung,<br /> +While I said with doubtful tongue:<br /> +"No, we cannot die so soon;<br /> +For you told, the other noon,<br /> +<br /> +"Of those months in order fine<br /> +That should make the earth divine.<br /> +I've not seen, scarce five years old,<br /> +Months like those of which you told."<br /> +<br /> +Softly, then, the woman's hand<br /> +Loosed my frock from silken band,<br /> +Tender smoothed the fiery head,<br /> +Often shamed for ringlets red.<br /> +Somewhat gently did she say,<br /> +"Child, those months are every day."<br /> +<br /> +Still, methinks, I wait in fear,<br /> +For that wonder-glorious year—<br /> +For a spring without a storm,<br /> +Summer honey-dewed and warm,<br /> +Autumn of robuster strength,<br /> +Winter piled in crystal length.<br /> +<br /> +I will wash me clean and white;<br /> +God may call me any night.<br /> +I must tell Him when I go<br /> +His great year is yet to know—<br /> +Year when working of the race<br /> +Shall match Creation's dial face;<br /> +Each hour be born of music's chime,<br /> +And Truth eternal told in Time.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + +<p><br />Lieutenant-Colonel Ward had ten children, of +whom seven lived to grow up. The fifth child and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +son was Samuel, our mother's father, born in Warwick, +Rhode Island, May 1, 1786. When he was four +years old, the family moved to New York, where +the Colonel and his brother established themselves +as merchants under the firm name of Samuel Ward +& Brother.</p> + +<p>The firm was only moderately successful; the children +came fast. With his narrow income it was not +possible for the father to give his boy the college education +he desired; so at fourteen, fresh from the common +schools, Samuel entered as a clerk the banking house +of Prime & King. While still a mere lad, an old friend +of the family asked him what he meant to be when he +came to man's estate.</p> + +<p>"I mean to be one of the first bankers in the United +States!" replied Samuel.</p> + +<p>At the age of twenty-two he became a partner in the +firm, which was thereafter known as Prime, Ward & +King.</p> + +<p>In a memoir of our grandfather, the partner who +survived him, Mr. Charles King, says:—</p> + +<p>"Money was the commodity in which Mr. Ward +dealt, and if, as is hardly to be disputed, money be the +root of all evil, it is also, in hands that know how to use +it worthily, the instrument of much good. There exist +undoubtedly, in regard to the trade in money, and +respecting those engaged in it, many and absurd prejudices, +inherited in part from ancient error, and fomented +and kept alive by the jealousies of ignorance +and indigence. It is therefore no small triumph to have +lived down, as Mr. Ward did, this prejudice, and to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +have forced upon the community in the midst of which +he resided, and upon all brought into connexion with +him, the conviction that commerce in money, like commerce +in general, is, to a lofty spirit, lofty and ennobling, +and is valued more for the power it confers, of +promoting liberal and beneficent enterprises, and of +conducing to the welfare and prosperity of society, +than for the means of individual and selfish gratification +or indulgence."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ward's activities were not confined to financial +affairs. He was founder and first president of the Bank +of Commerce; one of the founders of the New York +University and of the Stuyvesant Institute, etc., etc.</p> + +<p>In 1812 he married Julia Rush Cutler, second daughter +of Benjamin Clarke and Sarah Mitchell (Hyrne) +Cutler. Julia Cutler was sixteen years old at the time +of her marriage, lovely in character and beautiful in +person. She had been a pupil of the saintly Isabella +Graham, and her literary taste had been carefully cultivated +in the style of the day. One of her poems, +found in Griswold's "Female Poets of America," +shows the deeply religious cast of her mind; yet she +was full of gentle gayety, loved music, laughter, and +pretty things.</p> + +<p>During the first years of their married life, Mr. and +Mrs. Ward lived in Marketfield Street, near the Battery. +Here four children were born, Samuel and Henry, +and the two Julias. She who was known as "the first +little Julia" lived only four years. During her fatal illness +her father was called away by urgent business. In +great distress of mind, he arranged that certain tokens<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +should inform him of the child's condition. A few days +later, as he was riding homeward, a messenger came to +meet him and silently laid in his hand a tiny shoe: the +child was dead.</p> + +<p>Not long after this, on May 27, 1819, a second +daughter was born, and named Julia.</p> + +<p>Julia Ward was very little when her parents moved +to "a large house on the Bowling Green, a region of +high fashion in those days."<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> Here were born three +more children: Francis Marion, Louisa Cutler, and +Ann Eliza. For some time before the birth of the last-named +child, Mrs. Ward's health had been gradually +failing, though every known measure had been used to +restore it. There had been journeys to Niagara and up +the Hudson, in the family coach, straw-color outside +with linings and cushions of brilliant blue. Little Julia +went with her mother on these journeys; the good elder +sister, Eliza Cutler, was also of the party; and a physician, +Dr. John Wakefield Francis, who was later to +play an important part in the family life. Julia remembered +many incidents of these journeys, though the +latest of them took place when she was barely four +years old. She sat in a little chair placed at the feet +of her elders, and she used to tell us how, cramped +with remaining in one position, she was constantly +moving the chair, bringing its feet down on those of +Dr. Francis, to his acute anguish. In spite of this, the +good doctor would often read to her from a book of +short tales and poems which had been brought for her +amusement, and she always remembered his reading<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +of "Pity the sorrows of a poor old man," and how it +brought the tears to her eyes.</p> + +<p>At Niagara Falls she asked Dr. Francis, "Who made +that great hole where the water came down?" and was +told "The great Maker of all!" This puzzled her, and +she inquired further, but when her friend said, "Do +you not know? Our Father who art in heaven!" she +"felt that she ought to have known, and went away +somewhat abashed."<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<p>She remembered a visit to Red Jacket, the famous +Indian chief, at his encampment. Julia was given a +twist of tobacco tied with blue ribbon, which she was +to present to him. At sight of the tall, dignified savage, +the child sprang forward and threw her arms +round his neck, to the great discomfiture of both; baby +as she was, Julia felt at once that her embrace was +unexpected and unwelcome.</p> + +<p>Sometimes they went to the pleasant farm at +Jamaica, Long Island, where Lieutenant-Colonel Ward +was living at this time, with his unmarried sons, and +his two daughters, Phœbe and Anne.</p> + +<p>Phœbe was an invalid saint. She lived in a darkened +room, and the plates and dishes from which she ate +were of brown china or crockery, as she fancied her +eyes could not bear white. Anne was equally pious, but +more normal. She it was who managed the farm, and +who would always bring the cheeses to New York herself +for the market, lest any of the family grow proud +and belittle the dignity of honest work.</p> + +<p>It is from Jamaica that Mrs. Ward writes to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +mother a letter which shows that though the tenderest +of mothers, she had been strictly imbued with the Old +Testament ideas of bringing up children.</p> + + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dearest Mother</span>,— ... I find myself better since +I came hither.... Husband <i>more devoted than ever</i>; +children sweet tho' something of a drawback on my +recovery.... Thus in one page, you have the whole +history of my present life, reading and thinking only +excepted, which occupy by far the greatest portion of +my time.... I was obliged to whip Julia yesterday +afternoon, and have been sick ever since in consequence +of the agitation it threw me into.... I felt +<i>obliged</i> to try Solomon's prescription, which had a +worse effect on me than on her.... I think it is the +last time, however, blow high or low, for she is as +nervous as her mama was at her age, at the sight +of a rod, and screamed herself almost to death; indeed +her nerves were so affected that she cannot get +over it and has cried all today, trembling as violently +as if she had the ague all the time I whipped her and +could not eat.</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />Julia was to retain through life the memories of the +dear mother so early lost. She remembered her first +sewing-lesson; how being told to take the needle in one +hand she straightway placed the thimble on the other. +She remembered her first efforts to say "mother," and +how "muzzer" was all she could produce, till "the +dear parent presently said, 'if you cannot do better +than that, you will have to go back and call me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +"mamma."' The shame of going back moved me to +one last effort, and, summoning my utmost strength of +tongue I succeeded in saying 'mother.'"<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<p>All devices to restore the young mother's failing +strength were in vain: soon after giving birth to the +fourth daughter, Ann Eliza, she died.</p> + +<p>Her life had been pure, happy, and unselfish; yet her +last hours were full of anguish. Reared in the strictest +tenets of Evangelical piety, she was oppressed with +terror concerning the fate of her soul; the sorrows of +death compassed her about, the pains of hell gat hold +upon her. It is piteous to read of the sufferings of +this innocent creature, as described by her mourning +family; piteous, too, to realize, by the light of to-day, +that she was almost literally <i>prayed to death</i>. She was +twenty-seven years old when she died and had borne +seven children.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ward's grief at the death of this beloved wife +was so extreme as to bring on a severe illness. For some +time he could not bear to see the child who, he thought, +had cost her mother's life; and though he gathered his +other children tenderly around him, the little Annie +was kept out of his sight.</p> + +<p>By and by his father came to make him a visit and +heard of this state of things. Going to the nursery, the +old gentleman took the baby from its nurse, and carrying +it into the room where his son sat desolate, laid +it gently in his arms. From that moment the little +youngest became almost his dearest care.</p> + +<p>He could not live with his sorrow in the same dwelling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +that had contained his joy. The beautiful house at +Bowling Green was sold, with the new furniture which +had lately been ordered to please his Julia, and which +the children never saw uncovered; and the family +removed to Bond Street, then at the upper end of +New York City.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ward," said his friends, "you are going out +of town!"</p> + +<p>Bond Street in the twentieth century is an unlovely +thoroughfare, grimy, frowzy, given over largely to the +sale of feathers and artificial flowers; Bond Street in the +early part of the nineteenth century was a different +affair.</p> + +<p>The first settler in the street was Jonas Minturn, +who about 1825 built No. 22. Mr. Ward came next. +The city was then so remote, one could hardly see the +houses to the south across the woods and fields.</p> + +<p>The Ward children saw the street grow up around +them; saw the dignified houses, brick or freestone, built +and occupied by Kings, Halls, Morgans, Grinnells, +most of all by Wards. Mr. Ward was then at No. 16; +his father, the old Revolutionary soldier, soon came to +live at No. 7, with his daughter Anne; his brother +Henry was first at No. 14, then at No. 23; while his +brother John was to make No. 8 a dwelling beloved +by three generations.</p> + +<p>Julia did not remember in what year her father +bought the tract of land at the corner of Bond Street +and Broadway. At first a large part of it was fenced in, +and used as a riding-ring by the Ward boys. There +was also, either here or at No. 16, something in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +way of a garden, which she thus recalls in an address +on horticulture, given in her later years:—</p> + +<p>"My earliest horticultural recollections go back to +an enclosure, usually called a yard, in the rear of my +father's house in New York. When my little brother +and I were turned out to play there, we might just as +well have picked the bugs off the rosebushes as the +buds, of which we made wicked havoc. Not knowing +what to do with the flower border, we barbarized instead +of cultivating it. Being of extremely inquiring +minds, we picked the larkspurs and laburnums to +pieces, but became nothing the wiser for the process. A +little daily tuition might have transformed us into a +miniature Adam and Eve, and might have taught us +some things that these old friends of ours did not know. +But tuition to us then meant six or eight daily hours +passed in dry conversation with the family governess +or French master. No one dreamed of turning the +enamelled pages of the garden for us. We grew up +consequently with the city measure of the universe—your +own house, somebody else's, the trees in the park, +a strip of blue sky overhead, and a great deal of talk +about Nature read from the best authors. Much that +is most beautiful in the works of all the poets was perfectly +unintelligible to us, because we had never seen +the phenomena referred to; or if we had seen them, we +had not been taught to observe them. You will ask +where we passed our summers? In travelling, or at the +seashore, perhaps. But we took our city measure with +us, and were never quite at home beyond its limits."</p> + +<p>She adds: "I state these facts only to show how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +much of the world's beauty and value may be shut out +from the eyes of a human being, by even a careful education! +This loss cannot easily be remedied in later +years. I myself had reached mature life before I experienced +the deep and calm enjoyments of country +life. The long, still summer days, the open, fragrant +fields, the shy wild blossoms, the song of birds; these +won me at last to delight in them—at first they +seemed to me only a void. It was a new gospel that the +meadows taught me, and my own little children were +its interpreters. I know now some country craft, and +could even trim fruit trees and weed garden beds. But +I have always regretted in this respect the lost time of +youth. When I made acquaintance with Nature, I was +too old to learn the skill of gardening. Year after year +in the savage island of Newport, where labor is hard to +hire, I have passed summers ungladdened by so much +as a hollyhock, and the garden I at last managed to +secure owes nothing to my skill or knowledge."</p> + +<p>The truth is, people were afraid of the open air in +those days. Julia and her sisters sometimes went for a +drive in pleasant weather, dressed in blue pelisses and +yellow satin bonnets to match the chariot; they rarely +went out on foot; when they did, it was in cambric +dresses and kid slippers; the result was apt to be a cold +or a sore throat, proving conclusively to the minds +of their elders how much better off they were within +doors.</p> + +<p>Julia's nursery recollections were chiefly of No. 16 +Bond Street. Here the little Wards lived a happy but +somewhat sober life, under the watchful care of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +father, and their faithful Aunt Eliza, known in the +family as "Auntie Francis."</p> + +<p>The young mother, in dying, had commended her +children specially to the care of this, her eldest sister, +whose ability had been tried and proved from childhood. +In 1810 her father, Benjamin Clarke Cutler, +died suddenly under singular and painful circumstances. +Her mother, crushed by this event, took to +her bed, leaving the care of the family to Eliza, then +fifteen years of age. Eliza took up the house-mother's +burden without question; nursed her mother, husbanded +the narrow resources of the household, brought +up the four younger children with a strong hand. +"There were giants in those days."</p> + +<p>Nothing could daunt Eliza Cutler's spirits, which +were a perpetual cordial to those around her. She was +often "borrowed" by one member and another of the +family; she threatened to hang a sign over her door +with the inscription, "Cheering done here by the job +by E. Cutler." Her tongue could be sharp as well as +merry; witness many anecdotes.</p> + +<p>The housekeeper of a certain millionnaire, calling +upon her to ask the character of a servant, took occasion +to enlarge upon the splendors of her employer's +establishment. "Mr. So-and-So keeps this; Mr. So-and-So +keeps that:—"</p> + +<p>"Yes! yes!" said Mrs. Francis; "it is well known +that Mr. So-and-So keeps everything, except the Ten +Commandments!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Mrs. Francis, how <i>could</i> you?" cried the poor +millionnaire when next they met.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>In 1829 Eliza Cutler married Dr. John Wakefield +Francis, the historian of Old New York, the beloved +physician of a whole generation. He was already, as +has been seen, a member of the Ward household, friend +and resident physician. His tremendous vitality, his +quick sympathies, his amazing flow of vivid and picturesque +language, made him the delight of the children. +He called them by singular pet names, "Cream +Cheese from the Dairy of Heaven," "Pocket Edition of +Lives of the Saints," etc., etc. He sang to them odd +snatches of song which were to delight and exasperate +later generations:—</p> + +<p> +"To woodman's hut one evening there came<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A physician and a dancing-master:</span><br /> +The wind did blow, io, io,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the rain poured faster and faster."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Edgar Allan Poe said of Dr. Francis that his conversation +was "a sort of Roman punch, made up of tragedy, +comedy, and the broadest of all possible farce."</p> + +<p>In those days "The Raven," newly published, was +the talk of the town. Dr. Francis, meeting Poe, invited +him to come to his house on a certain evening, and +straightway forgot the matter. Poe came at the appointed +time. The Doctor, summoned to the bedside +of a patient, left the drawing-room hastily, and in the +anteroom ran into a tall, cadaverous figure in black. +Seizing him in his arms, he carried him into the drawing-room +and set him down before his wife. "Eliza, +my dear—the Raven!" and he departed, leaving +guest and hostess (the latter had never heard of "The +Raven"!) equally petrified.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>Mrs. Francis adored her husband, yet he must sometimes +have tried her patience sorely. One evening they +had a dinner party, eighteen covers, a state occasion. +Midway in the repast the Doctor rose, and begging the +guests to excuse him and his wife for a moment, led her, +speechless with amazement, into the next room. Here +he proceeded to bleed her, removing twelve ounces of +blood; replying to her piteous protestations, "Madam, +I saw that you were on the point of apoplexy, and I +judge it best to avert it."</p> + +<p>In strong contrast with "Uncle Doctor" was "Uncle +Ben," the Reverend Benjamin Clarke Cutler, for many +years rector of St. Anne's Church, Brooklyn. This +uncle was much less to Julia's taste: indeed, she was +known to stamp her childish foot, and cry, "I don't +care for old Ben Cutler!" Nevertheless he was a +saintly and interesting person.</p> + +<p>He was twelve years old at the time of his father's +tragic death, and was deeply influenced by it. His +youth was made unhappy by spiritual anguish, duty to +his widowed mother and the call to the ministry fighting +within him. The latter conquered. In his twenty-first +year he drew up, signed, and sealed "An Instrument +of Solemn Surrender of Myself, Soul and Body, to +God!" This document was in the form of a testament, +in which he solemnly ("with death, judgment and eternity +in view") gave, covenanted, and made over himself, +soul and body, all his faculties, all his influence in +this world, all the worldly goods with which he might +be endowed, into the hands of his Creator, Preserver, +and Constant Benefactor, to be his forever, and at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +his disposal. He goes on to say: "Witness, ye holy +angels! I am God's servant; witness, thou, Prince of +Hell! I am thy enemy, thy implacable enemy, from this +time forth and forevermore."</p> + +<p>That this covenant was well kept, no one who reads +his memoirs and the testimony of his contemporaries +can doubt.</p> + +<p>There are many anecdotes of Uncle Ben. Once, during +his early ministry, he was riding in a crowded stagecoach. +One of the passengers swore profusely and continuously, +to the manifest annoyance of the others. +Presently Dr. Cutler, leaning forward, addressed the +swearer.</p> + +<p>"Sir," he said, "you are fond of blasphemy; I am +fond of prayer. This is a public conveyance, and for +the remainder of our journey, as often as you swear +aloud, I shall pray aloud, and we will see who comes off +best." The swearing stopped!</p> + +<p>In his later years, he met one day a parishioner clad +in deep mourning for a near relative. The old clergyman +laid his hand on the crape sleeve. "What!" he +said sternly. "Heathen mourning for a Christian +saint!"</p> + +<p>But of all the uncles (and there were many) the beloved +Uncle John Ward was always first. Of him, +through many years Julia's devoted friend and chief +adviser, we shall speak later on.</p> + +<p>We have dwelt upon the generation preceding our +mother's, because all these people, the beautiful +mother so early lost, so long loved and mourned, the +sternly devoted father, the vivacious aunts, the stalwart<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +uncles, were strong influences in the life of +Julia Ward.</p> + +<p>The amusements of the little Wards were few, compared +with those of children of to-day. As a child of +seven, Julia was taken twice to the opera, and heard +Malibran, then Signorina Garcia, a pleasure the memory +of which remained with her through life. About +this time Mr. Ward's views of religious duty deepened +in stringency and in gloom. There was no more opera, +nor did Julia ever attend a theatre until she was a +grown woman. In Low Church circles at that time, the +drama was considered distinctly of the devil. The +burning of the first Bowery Theatre and of the great +theatre at Richmond, Virginia, were spoken of as +"judgments." Many an Evangelical pastor "improved" +the occasions from the pulpit.</p> + +<p>The child inherited a strong dramatic sense from the +Marion Cutlers. She had barely learned to read when +she found in an "Annual" a tale called "The Iroquois +Bride," which she dramatized and presented to the +nursery audience, with herself for the bride, her brother +Marion for the lover, and a stool for the rock they +ascended to stab each other. The performance was not +approved by Authority, and the book was promptly +taken away.</p> + +<p>Her first written drama was composed at the age of +nine, but even the name of it is lost.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ward did not encourage intimacies with other +children. He felt strongly that brothers and sisters +were the true, and should be the only, intimates for one +another; indeed, the six children were enough to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +a pleasant little circle of their own, and there were +merry games in the wide nursery. Sam, the eldest +born, was master of the revels in childhood, as throughout +his life. It was his delight, in the early morning, to +wrap himself in a sheet, and bursting into the room +where the little sisters slept, leap from bed to bed, announcing +himself as a ghost come to haunt them; or, +when the three ladies, Mrs. Mills, Mrs. Brown, and +Mrs. Francis (otherwise known as Julia, Louisa, and +Annie) were playing with their dolls, to whisper in +their ears that they must on no account venture near +the attic stairs, as an old man in red was sitting there. +Of course the little Fatimas must needs peep, and the +old man was always there, a terrible figure, his face +hidden. In "Bro' Sam's" absence it was Marion who +played the outlaw and descended like a whirlwind upon +the unhappy ladies, who were journeying through +dense and dreadful forests.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mills, Mrs. Brown, and Mrs. Francis were devoted +mothers, and reared large families of dolls. They +kept house in a wide bureau drawer, divided into three +parts. Our Aunt Annie (Mrs. Adolphe Mailliard) +writes: "Mrs. Mills' (Julia) dolls were always far +more picturesquely dressed than ours, although I can +say little for their neatness. Oh! to what numberless +parties they went, and how tipsy they invariably got! +I can see distinctly to-day the upset wagon (boxes, on +spools for wheels), and the muddy dresses, for they +always fell into mud puddles."</p> + +<p>Marion was as pious as he was warlike. His morning +sermons, delivered over the back of a chair, were fervent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +and eloquent; he was only seven years old when +he wrote to his Cousin Henry Ward, who was ill with +some childish ailment:—</p> + +<p>"Do not forget to say your prayers every morning +and evening. I hope that you trust in God; and, my +dear cousin, do not set your mind too much on Earthly +things! And my dear cousin, this is the prayer."</p> + +<p>Follows the Lord's Prayer carefully written out. On +the next page of the same sheet, the eight-year-old +Julia adds her exhortation:—</p> + +<p>"Dear Cousin, I hope that you will say the Prayer +which my Brother has written for you. I hear with +regret that you are sick, and it is as necessary as ever +that you should trust in God; love him, dear Henry, +and you will see Death approaching with joy. Oh, +what are earthly things, which we must all lose when +we die—to our immortal souls which never die! I +cannot bear the thought of anybody who is dying +without a knowledge of Christ. We may die before to-morrow, +and therefore we ought to be prepared for +death."</p> + +<p>This was scarcely cheering for Henry, aged ten; as a +matter of fact, he was to have half a century in which +to make his preparations.</p> + +<p>Some of the nursery recollections were the reverse of +merry. When Julia was still a little child, the old housekeeper +died. The children loved her, and Auntie Francis +did not wish them to be saddened by the funeral +preparations; she gave them a good dose of physic all +round and put them to bed for the day.</p> + +<p>Julia was a beautiful child, but she had red hair,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +which was then considered a sad drawback. She could +remember visitors condoling with her mother on this +misfortune, and the gentle lady deploring it also, and +striving by the use of washes and leaden combs to +darken the over-bright locks. Still, some impression of +good looks must have reached the child's mind; for one +day, desiring to know what she really was like, she +scrambled up on a chair, then on a dressing-table, and +took a good look in the mirror.</p> + +<p>"<i>Is that all?</i>" she cried, and scrambled down again, +a sadly disappointed child.</p> + +<p>Her first lessons were from governesses and masters; +when she was nine years old, she was sent to a private +school in the neighborhood. She was placed in a class +with older girls, and learned by heart many pages of +Paley's "Moral Philosophy"; memorizing from textbooks +formed in those days a great part of the school +curriculum. She did not care especially for Paley, and +found chemistry (without experiments!) and geometry +far more interesting; but history and languages were +the studies she loved. She had learned in the nursery +to speak French fluently; she soon began the +study of Latin. Hearing a class reciting an Italian lesson, +she was enchanted with the musical sound of the +language; listened and marked, day after day, and +presently handed to the amazed principal a note correctly +written in Italian, begging permission to join the +class.</p> + +<p>At nine years old she was reading "Pilgrim's Progress," +and seeking its characters in the people she +met every day. She always counted it one of the books<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +which had most influenced her. Another was Gibbon's +"Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," which she +read at seventeen.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></p> + +<p>She began at an early age to write verse. A manuscript +volume has been preserved in which some of +these early poems were copied for her father.</p> + +<p>The title-page and dedication are here reproduced:—</p> + +<p class="center"> +Poems<br /> +Dedicated to<br /> +Samuel Ward esq<br /> +By His<br /> +affectionate daughter<br /> +Julia Ward.<br /> +<i>LET ME BE THINE!</i><br /> +Regard not with a critic's eye.<br /> +New York 1831.<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="center">To Samuel Ward.</p> + +<blockquote><p> +Beloved father,<br /> +</p> + +<p>Expect not to find in these juvenile productions +the delicacy and grace which pervaded the writings +of that dear parent who is now in glory. I am indeed conscious +of the many faults they contain, but my object in +presenting you with these (original) poems, has been to give +you a little memorial of my early life, and I entreat you to +remember that they were written in the eleventh, twelfth, +and thirteenth years of my life.</p> + +<div class="signature">Your loving daughter<br /> +<span class="smcap">Julia</span>.</div> +</blockquote> + +<p>The titles show the trend of the child's thought: "All +things shall pass away"; "We return no more"; "Invitation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +to Youth" (1831!); "To my dear Mother"; +"Mine is the power to make thee whole"; "To an +infant's departing spirit"; "Redeeming Love"; "My +Heavenly Home," etc., etc.</p> + +<p>At Newport, in 1831, she wrote the following:—</p> + +<p>MORNING HYMN</p> + +<p> +Now I see the morning light,<br /> +Shining bright and gay.<br /> +God has kept me through the night;<br /> +He will, if He thinks it right,<br /> +Preserve me through this day.<br /> +<br /> +Let thy holy Spirit send<br /> +Of heavenly light a ray;<br /> +Thy face, oh! Lord, I fain would seek,<br /> +But I am feeble, vain and weak;<br /> +Oh, guide me in thy way!<br /> +<br /> +Let thy assistance, Lord, be given,<br /> +That when life's path I've trod,<br /> +And when the last frail tie is riven,<br /> +My spirit may ascend to heaven,<br /> +To dwell with thee, My God.<br /> +</p> + +<p>We cannot resist quoting a stanza from the effusion +entitled "Father's Birthday":—</p> + +<p> +Louisa brings a cushion rare,<br /> +Anne Eliza a toothpick bright and fair;<br /> +And O! accept the gift I bring,<br /> +It is a <i>daughter's</i> offering.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Julia's mind was not destined to remain in the evangelical +mould which must have so rejoiced the heart +of her father. In 1834, at the ripe age of fifteen, she +describes her</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"> +"Vain Regrets<br /> +</p> + +<p>written on looking over a diary kept while I was under +serious impressions":—</p> + +<p> +Oh! happy days, gone, never to return<br /> +At which fond memory will ever burn,<br /> +Oh, Joyous hours, with peace and gladness blest,<br /> +When hope and joy dwelt in this careworn breast.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The next poem, "The Land of Peace," breaks off +abruptly at the third line, and when she again began to +write religious verse, it was from a widely different +standpoint.</p> + +<p>It may have been about this time that she tried to +lead her sisters into the path of poesy.</p> + +<p>Coming one day into the nursery, in serious mood, +she found the two little girls playing some childish +game. Miss Ward (she was always Miss Ward, even in +the nursery!) rebuked them for their frivolity; bade +them turn their thoughts to graver matters, and +write poetry.</p> + +<p>Louisa refused point-blank, but little Annie, always +anxious to please, went dutifully to work, and produced +the following lines:—</p> + +<p> +He feeds the ravens when they call,<br /> +And stands them in a pleasant hall.<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Mitter Ward" (to give him his nursery title) treasured +these tokens of pious and literary promise. He +even responded in kind, as is shown by some verses +which are endorsed:—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">"From my dearest Father.</span><br /> + <span class="smcap">Julia Euphrosyne Ward</span> [<i>sic</i>]." +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>His letters are full of playful affection. He would +fain be father and mother both to the children who +were now his all. Under the austere exterior lay a tenderness +which perhaps they hardly comprehended at +the time. It was in fact this very anguish of solicitude, +this passionate wish that they should not only +have, but be everything desirable and lovely, that +made him outwardly so stern. This sterner note impressed +itself so deeply upon the minds of his children +that the anecdotes familiar to our own generation +echo it. We see the little Julia, weary with long riding +in the family coach, suffering her knees to drop apart +childwise, and we hear Mr. Ward say: "My daughter, +if you cannot sit like a lady, we will stop at the +next tailor's and have you measured for a pair of +pantaloons!"</p> + +<p>Or we hear the child at table, remarking innocently +that the cheese is strong; and the deep voice replying, +"It is no more so than the expression, Miss!"</p> + +<p>The family was still at 16 Bond Street, when all the +children had whooping-cough severely, and were confined +to the house for many weeks. Mrs. Mailliard +writes of this time:—</p> + +<p>"I remember the screened-off corner of the dining-room, +which was called the Bower, where we each retired +when the spasms came on, and the promises +which we vainly gave each other each morning to +choke rather than cough whilst Uncle Doctor made +his visit to the nursery; for the slightest sound from +one of us provoked the general order of a dose all +round."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>It was after this illness that Julia Ward first went to +Newport. A change of air was prescribed for the children, +and they were packed off to the farmhouse of +Jacob Bailey, two or three miles from the town of +Newport. Here they spent a happy summer, to be followed +by many others. They slept on mattresses +stuffed with ground corncobs; the table was primitive; +but there was plenty of cream and curds, eggs and +butter, and there was the wonderful air. The children +grew fat and hearty, and scampered all over the island +with great delight.</p> + +<p>(But when they went down to the beach, Julia must +wear a thick green worsted veil to preserve her ivory-and-rose +complexion.</p> + +<p>"Little Julia has another freckle to-day!" a visitor +was told. "It was not her fault, the nurse forgot her +veil!")</p> + +<p>Julia recalled Newport in 1832 as "a forsaken, mildewed +place, a sort of intensified Salem, with houses of +rich design, no longer richly inhabited." She was to +watch through many years the growth of what was +always one of the cities of her heart.</p> + +<p>But we must return to Bond Street, and take one +more look at No. 16. The Wards were soon to leave it +for a statelier dwelling, but many associations would +always cling about the old house. Here it was that +the good old grandfather, Lieutenant-Colonel Samuel +Ward, used to come from No. 7 to talk business with +his son or to play with the children. Our mother had a +vivid recollection of once, when still a little child, sitting +down at the piano, placing an open music-book on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +the rack (though she could not yet read music), and +beginning to pound and thump the keys with might +and main. The Colonel was sitting by, book in hand, +and endured the noise patiently for some time. Finally +he said in his courtly way, "Is it so set down in the +book, little lady?" "Yes, Grandpapa!" said naughty +Julia, and went on banging; the Colonel, who indeed +had little music, made no further comment. But when +a game of "Tommy-come-tickle-me" was toward, the +children must step in to No. 7 to share that excitement +with their grandfather, since no cards were permitted +under Mr. Ward's roof.</p> + +<p>The year of the first Newport visit, 1832, was also +the terrible "cholera year." Uncle Ben Cutler, at that +time city missionary, writes in his diary:—</p> + +<p>"The cholera is in Quebec and Montreal. This city +is beginning to be alarmed; Christians are waking up. +My soul, how stands the case with thee?"</p> + +<p>And later:—</p> + +<p>"I am now in the midst of the pestilence. The cholera, +the universal plague, arrived in this city four weeks +ago. It has caused the death of over nine hundred persons. +This day the report of the Board of Health was +three hundred new cases and one hundred and thirty +deaths."</p> + +<p>Many parts of the city were entirely deserted. Dr. +Cutler retained through life the vivid recollection +of riding down Broadway in full daylight, meeting +no living soul, seeing only a face here and there at +an upper window, peering at him as at a strange +sight.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>Newport took the alarm, and forbade steamboats +from New York to land their passengers. This behavior +was considered very cold-blooded, and gave rise to +the conundrum: "Why is it impossible for Newporters +to take the cholera? Answer: Because they have no +bowels."</p> + +<p>Grandma Cutler was at Newport with the Wards +and Francises, and trembled for her only son. She implored +him to "flee while it was yet day." "My most +precious son," she cried, "oh, come out from thence! I +entreat you; linger not within its walls, as Lot would +have done, but for the friendly angels that drew him +perforce from it!"</p> + +<p>The missionary stood firm at his post, and though +exhausted by his labors, came safe through the ordeal. +But Colonel Ward, who had not thought fit to flee +the enemy,—it was not his habit to flee enemies,—was +stricken with the pestilence, and died in New +York City, August 16. His death was a grievous blow +to Mr. Ward. Not only had he lost a loving and beloved +father, but he had no assurance of the orthodoxy +of that father's religious opinions. The Colonel was +thought in the family to be of a philosophizing, if not +actually sceptical, turn of mind; it might be that he +was not "safe"! Years after, Mr. Ward told Julia of +the anguish he suffered from this uncertainty.</p> + +<p>It is with No. 16 Bond Street that we chiefly associate +the sprightly figure of "Grandma Cutler," who +was a frequent visitor there. The affection between +Mr. Ward and his mother-in-law was warm and lively. +They had a "little language" of their own, and she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +was Lady Feltham (from her fondness for Feltham's +"Resolves," a book little in demand in the twentieth +century); and he was her "saucy Lark," or "Plato." +Mrs. Cutler died in 1836.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>"THE CORNER"</h3> + +<h4>1835-1839; <i>aet.</i> 16-20</h4> + +<p> +But well I thank my father's sober house<br /> +Where shallow judgment had no leave to be,<br /> +And hurrying years, that, stripping much beside,<br /> +Turned as they fled, and left me charity.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + + +<p>The house which Mr. Ward built on the corner of +Bond Street and Broadway was still standing in the +middle of the nineteenth century; a dignified mansion +of brick, with columns and trimmings of white +marble.</p> + +<p>In her "Reminiscences," our mother recalls the +spacious rooms, hung with red, blue, and yellow silk. +The yellow drawing-room was reserved for high occasions, +and for "Miss Ward's" desk and grand piano. +This and the blue room were adorned by fine sculptured +mantelpieces, the work of a young sculptor +named Thomas Crawford, who was just coming into +notice.</p> + +<p>Behind the main house, stretching along Broadway, +was the picture gallery, the first private one in New +York, and Mr. Ward's special pride. The children +might not mingle in frivolous gayety abroad, but they +should have all that love, taste, and money could give +them at home; he filled his gallery with the best pictures +he could find. A friend (Mr. Prescott Hall), making +a timely journey through Spain, bought for him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +many valuable pictures, among them a Snyders, a +Nicolas Poussin, a reputed Velasquez and Rembrandt. +It was for him that Thomas Cole painted the +four pictures representing "The Voyage of Life," engravings +from which may still be found in old-fashioned +parlors.</p> + +<p>Some years later, when the eldest son, Samuel, returned +from Europe, bringing with him a fine collection +of books, Mr. Ward built a library specially for them.</p> + +<p>This was the house into which the family moved in +1835, Julia being then sixteen years of age; this was +the house she loved, the memory of which was dear to +her through all the years of her life.</p> + +<p>The family was at that time patriarchal in its dimensions: +Mr. Ward and his six children, Dr. and Mrs. +Francis and their four; often, too, "Grandma Cutler" +and other Cutlers, not to speak of Wards, Greenes, and +McAllisters. (Louisa, youngest of the Cutler sisters, +one of the most beautiful and enchanting women of +her time, was married to Matthew Hall McAllister.) +One and all were sure of a welcome at "The Corner"; +one and all were received with cordial urbanity, first by +Johnson, the colored butler, later by Mr. Ward, the +soul of dignified hospitality.</p> + +<p>Another inmate of the house during several years +was Christy Evangelides, a Greek boy, orphaned in a +Turkish massacre. Mr. Ward took the boy into his +family, gave him his education and a start in life. +Fifty years later Mr. Evangelides recalled those days +in a letter to his "sister Julia," and paid beautiful +tribute to his benefactor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>To all these should be added a host of servants and +retainers; and masters of various kinds, coming to +teach music, languages, even dancing, for the children +were taught to dance even if they never (or very seldom) +were allowed to go to dances. Many of these +teachers were foreign patriots: those were the days +when one French <i>émigré</i> of rank dressed the hair of +fashionable New York, while another made its salads, +the two going their rounds before every festivity.</p> + +<p>Julia's musical education began early. Her first +teacher was a French artist, so irritable that the terrified +child could remember little that he taught her. He +was succeeded in her tenth year by Mr. Boocock, a +pupil of Cramer, to whom she always felt that she +owed a great deal. Not only did he train her fingers +so carefully that after eighty years they still retained +their flexibility, but he also trained and developed her +inborn taste for all that was best in music.</p> + +<p>As she grew toward girlhood, the good master found +that her voice promised to be a remarkable one, and +recommended to her father Signor Cardini, formerly an +intimate of the Garcia family, and thoroughly versed +in the famous Garcia method. Under his care Julia's +voice developed into a pure, clear mezzo-soprano, of +uncommon range and exquisite quality. She felt all +through her life the benefit of those early lessons.</p> + +<p>When she was eighty years old she attended a meeting +of the National Peace Society at Park Street +Church, Boston. The church was packed with people. +When her turn came to speak, the kindly chairman +said:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now to have the +great pleasure of listening to Mrs. Howe. I am going +to ask you all to be very quiet, for though Mrs. Howe's +voice is as sweet as ever, it is perhaps not quite so +strong."</p> + +<p>"<i>But it carries!</i>" said the pupil of old Cardini. The +silver tone, though not loud, reached the farthest corner +of the great building; the house "came down" in a +thunder of applause. It was a beautiful moment for +the proud daughter who sat beside her.</p> + +<p>Music was one of the passions of her life. Indeed, +she felt that it had sometimes influenced her even too +much, and in recording the delight she took in the trios +and quartets which Mr. Boocock arranged for her, she +adds: "The reaction from this pleasure, however, was +very painful, and induced at times a visitation of +morbid melancholy, which threatened to upset my +health."</p> + +<p>She felt that "in the training of young persons, some +regard should be had to the sensitiveness of youthful +nerves, and to the overpowering response which they +often make to the appeals of music....</p> + +<p>"The power and sweep of great orchestral performances, +or even the suggestive charm of some beautiful +voice, will sometimes so disturb the mental equilibrium +of the hearer as to induce in him a listless melancholy, +or, worse still, an unreasoning and unreasonable discontent."<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p> + +<p>In a later chapter of her "Reminiscences," she says: +"I left school at the age of sixteen, and began thereafter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +to study in good earnest. Until that time a certain +over-romantic and imaginative turn of mind had interfered +much with the progress of my studies. I indulged +in day-dreams which appeared to me far higher in tone +than the humdrum of my school recitations. When +these were at an end, I began to feel the necessity of +more strenuous application, and at once arranged for +myself hours of study, relieved by the practice of vocal +and instrumental music."</p> + +<p>These hours of study were not all passed at home. In +1836 she was taking certain courses at the boarding and +day school of Mrs. E. Smith, then in Fifth Avenue, +"first house from Washington Square."</p> + +<p>The Italian master was a son of the venerable Lorenzo +da Ponte, who in his youth had written for +Mozart the librettos of "Don Giovanni" and "Le +Nozze di Figaro."</p> + +<p>Four languages, English, French, German, and +Italian, Julia learned thoroughly; she spoke and wrote +them throughout her life correctly as well as fluently, +with singularly pure accent and inflection, and seldom +or never was at a loss for a word; nor was she less proficient +in history. For mathematics she had no gift, and +was wont to say that her knowledge of the science was +limited to the fact that four quarts made a gallon: yet +the higher mathematics had a mysterious attraction for +her, as an unexplored region of wonder and romance.</p> + +<p>She was always a student. When she began the study +of German, she set herself a task each day; lest anything +should interfere to distract her mind, she had herself +securely tied to her armchair, giving orders that she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +was on no account to be set free before the appointed +hour.</p> + +<p>This was characteristic of her through life. The +chain of habit once formed was never broken, and +study was meat and drink to her. Her "precious time" +(which we children saucily abbreviated to "P.T.") was +as real a thing to us as sunrise: we were not to break in +upon it for anything short of a fire—or a cut finger!</p> + +<p>Many years later, she laid down for the benefit of +the younger generation these rules:—</p> + +<p>"If you have at your command three hours <i>per diem</i>, +you may study art, literature, and philosophy, not +as they are studied professionally, but in the degree +involved in general culture.</p> + +<p>"If you have but one hour every day, read philosophy, +or learn foreign languages, living or dead.</p> + +<p>"If you can command only fifteen or twenty minutes, +read the Bible with the best commentaries, and +daily a verse or two of the best poetry."</p> + +<p>In the days when Julia was going round the corner to +Mrs. Smith's school, Sam was newly returned from a +long course of study and travel abroad, while Henry +and Marion were at Round Hill School under the care +of Dr. Joseph Greene Cogswell and Mr. George Bancroft. +The former was a beloved friend of the Ward +family, and often visited them. We have pleasant +glimpses of the household at this time, when the lines +of paternal guidance, though still firmly, were somewhat +less rigidly drawn.</p> + +<p>Breakfast at "The Corner" was at eight in winter, +and at half past seven in summer, Mr. Ward reading<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +prayers before the meal, and again at bedtime. He +would often wake his daughters in the morning by +pelting them with stockings, crying, "Come, my rosebuds!"</p> + +<p>The young people were apt to linger over the breakfast +table in talk. If this were unduly prolonged, Mr. +Ward would appear, "hatted and booted for the day," +and say, "Young gentlemen, I am glad that you can +afford to take life so easily. I am old, and must work +for my living!"</p> + +<p>Dinner was at four o'clock, supper at half past seven.</p> + +<p>At table, Julia sat beside her father; he would often +take her right hand in his left, half unconsciously, and +hold it for some time, continuing the while to eat his +dinner. Julia, her right hand imprisoned, would sit +dinnerless, but never dreamed of remonstrating.</p> + +<p>She had a habit of dropping her slippers off while at +the table. Mr. Ward one day quietly secured an empty +slipper with his foot, and then said: "My daughter, I +have left my seals in my room. Will you be so good as +to fetch them for me?" A moment's agonized search, +and Julia went, "one shoe off and one shoe on," and +brought the seals. Nothing was said on either side, but +the habit was abandoned.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ward's anxious care for his children's welfare +extended to every branch of their conduct. One evening, +walking with Julia, he met his sons, Henry and +Marion, each with a cigar in his mouth. He was much +troubled, and said: "Boys, you must give this up, and +I will give it up too. From this time I forbid you to +smoke, and I will join you in relinquishing the habit."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>He never smoked again; nor did the boys—in his +presence!</p> + +<p>Three lads, young, handsome, brilliant, and eminently +social as were the Wards, could not be kept out +of society. They were popular, and would fain have +had Julia, the only one of the three girls who was old +enough, share in their pleasures; but this might not be. +Mr. Ward had money and sympathy to spare for every +benevolent enterprise, but he disliked and distrusted +"society"; he would neither entertain it nor be entertained +by it. Our mother quotes an argument between +him and his eldest son on this point:—</p> + +<p>"'Sir,' said my brother, 'you do not keep in view the +importance of the social tie.'</p> + +<p>"'The social what?' asked my father.</p> + +<p>"'The social tie, sir.'</p> + +<p>"'I make small account of that,' said the elder +gentleman.</p> + +<p>"'I will die in defence of it!' impetuously rejoined +the younger.</p> + +<p>"My father was so amused at this sally that he +spoke of it to an intimate friend: 'He will die in +defence of the social tie, indeed!'"</p> + +<p>Julia's girlhood evenings were mostly spent at home, +with books, needlework, and music, varied by an occasional +lecture or concert, or a visit to some one of the +uncles' houses in the street, which ought, one would +think, to have been called "Ward Street," since at this +time almost the whole family connection lived there.</p> + +<p>Much as Julia loved her home, her books and music, +she longed for some of the gayety which her brothers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +were enjoying. "I seemed to myself," she says, "like +a young damsel of olden times, shut up within an enchanted +castle. And I must say, that my dear father, +with all his noble generosity and overweening affection, +sometimes appeared to me as my jailer."</p> + +<p>Once she expostulated with him, begging to be allowed +more freedom in going out, and in receiving visits +from the friends of her brothers. It may have been on +the occasion when he refused to allow the late Louis +Rutherford, of venerated memory, to be invited to +the house, "because he belonged to the fashionable +world."</p> + +<p>Her father told her that he had early recognized in +her a temperament and imagination over-sensitive to +impressions from without, and that his wish had been +to guard her from exciting influences until she should +appear to him fully able to guard and guide herself.</p> + +<p>Alas! the tender father meant to cherish a vestal +flame in a vase of alabaster; in reality, he was trying +to imprison the lightning in the cloud. When our +mother wrote the words above quoted, on the power +of music over sensitive natures, she was recalling these +days, and perhaps remembering how, denied the society +of her natural mates, her sixteen-year-old heart +went out in sympathy and compassion to the young +harper who came to take part in the trios and quartets, +and who fell desperately in love with her and was +summarily dismissed in consequence.</p> + +<p>Yet who shall say that the father's austere régime +did not after all meet a need of her nature deeper than +she could possibly have realized at the time; that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +long, lonely hours, the study often to weariness,—though +never to satiety,—the very fires of longing +and of regret, were not necessary to give her mind that +temper which was to make it an instrument as strong +as it was keen?</p> + +<p>The result of this system was not precisely what Mr. +Ward had expected. One evening (it was probably +after the marriage of his eldest son to Emily Astor, +when he joined perforce in the festivities of the time) +he did actually take Julia to an evening party. She did +not dance, but she was surrounded by eager youths all +the evening, and when her father summoned her to go +home, she was deep in talk with one of them. There +was no disobeying the summons; as she turned to take +her father's arm, Miss Julia made a little gesture of +farewell, fluttering the fingers of her right hand over +her shoulder, to cheer the disconsolate swain. Mr. +Ward appeared unconscious of this, but a day or two +later, on leaving the room where Julia was sitting, he +said: "My daughter,—" and fluttered his fingers over +his shoulder in precise mimicry of her gesture.</p> + +<p>Another anecdote describes an occasion singularly +characteristic of both father and daughter.</p> + +<p>Julia was nineteen years old, a woman grown, feeling +her womanhood in every vein. She had never been +allowed to choose the persons who should be invited to +the house: she had never had a <i>party of her own</i>. The +different strains in her blood were singularly diverse. +All through her life Saxon and Gaul kept house together +as peaceably as they might, but sometimes the +French blood boiled over.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>Calling her brothers in council, she told them that +she was going to give a party; that she desired their +help in making out lists, etc., but that the occasion and +the responsibility were to be all her own. The brothers +demurred, even Sam being somewhat appalled by the +prospect; but finding her firm, they made out a list of +desirable guests, of all ages. It was characteristic of her +that the plan once made, the resolve taken, it became +an obsession, a thing that must be done at whatever +cost.</p> + +<p>She asked her father if she might invite a few +friends for a certain evening: he assented. She engaged +the best caterer in New York; the most fashionable +musicians; she even hired a splendid cut-glass chandelier +to supplement the sober lighting of the yellow +drawing-room.</p> + +<p>The evening came: Mr. Ward, coming downstairs, +found assembled as brilliant a gathering as could have +been found in any other of the great houses of New +York. He betrayed no surprise, but welcomed his +guests with charming courtesy, as if they had come at +his special desire; the music sounded, the young people +danced, the evening passed off delightfully, to all save +the young hostess. She, from the moment when the +thing was inevitable, became as possessed with terror +as she had been with desire. She could think of +nothing but her father's displeasure, of the words he +might speak, the glances he might cast upon her. During +the whole evening, the cup of trembling was at her +lips.</p> + +<p>The moment the last guest had departed, the three<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +brothers gathered round her. "We will speak to him!" +they cried. "Let us speak to him for you!"</p> + +<p>"No!" said Julia, "I must go myself."</p> + +<p>She went at once to the room where her father sat +alone. For a moment she could find no words; but none +were needed. Gravely but kindly Mr. Ward said he +was surprised to find that her idea of "a few friends" +differed so widely from his own; he was sorry she had +not consulted him more freely, and begged that in the +future she would do so. Then he kissed her good-night +with his usual tenderness, and it was over. The matter +was never mentioned again.</p> + +<p>The Wards continued to pass the summers at Newport, +but no longer at good Jacob Bailey's farmhouse. +Mr. Ward had bought a house in town, which a later +generation was to know as "The Ashurst Cottage," on +the corner of Bellevue Avenue and Catherine Street.</p> + +<p>Here the severity of his rule relaxed somewhat, and +the pretty house became the centre of a sober hospitality. +Indeed, Newport was a sober place in those +days. There were one or two houses where dancing +was allowed, but these were viewed askance by many +people.</p> + +<p>One evening, a dancing party was given by a couple +on Bellevue Avenue. They had a manservant named +Salathiel, a person of rigid piety. When supper-time +came, Salathiel was not to be found. The other servants, +being questioned, said that he had rushed suddenly +out of the house, crying, "I won't stay to see +those people dancing themselves to hell!"</p> + +<p>Though Julia might not dance, except at home, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +might and did ride; first, with great contentment, on a +Narragansett pacer, "Jeanie Deans," later on a thoroughbred +mare, a golden bay named Cora. Cora was +beautiful but "very pranky." After being several +times run away with and once thrown off, it was observed +by her sisters that Julia generally read her +Bible and said her prayers before her ride: she has herself +told us how, after being thrown off and obliged +to make her way home on foot, she would creep in at +the back door so that no one might see her.</p> + +<p>She calls the "cottage" a "delightful house," and +speaks with special pleasure of its garden planted with +roses and gooseberry bushes by Billy Bottomore, a +quaint old Newport sportsman, who took the boys +shooting, and showed them where to find plover, +woodcock, and snipe. Billy Bottomore passed for an +adopted son of old Father Corné, another Newport +"character" of those days. This gentleman had come +from Naples to Boston, toward the end of the eighteenth +century, as a decorative artist, and had made +a modest fortune by painting the walls of the fine +houses of Summer Street, Temple Place, and Beacon +Hill. He chose Newport as his final home, because, +as he told Mr. Ward, he had found that the climate +was favorable to the growth of the tomato, "that +most wholesome of vegetables." The Ward boys delighted +in visiting Father Corné, and in hearing him +sing his old songs, French and Italian, some of which +are sung to-day by our grandchildren.</p> + +<p>Father Corné lived to a great age. When past his +ninetieth year, a friend asked him if he would not like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +to revisit Naples. "Ah, sir," replied the old man, "my +father is dead!"</p> + +<p>Our mother loved to linger over these old-time figures. +The name of Billy Bottomore always brought a +twinkle to her eye, and we never tired of hearing how +he told her, "There is a single sister in Newport, a +sempstress, to whom I have offered matrimony, but +she says, 'No.'" The single sister finally yielded (perhaps +when Billy inherited old Corné's money) and he +became a proud and happy husband. "She keeps my +house as neat as a nunnery!" he said. "When Miss E., +the housekeeper, died, she nursed her and laid her out, +and when Father Corné died, she nursed him and laid +him out—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Billy," broke in our Aunt Annie, "and she'll +lay you out too!"—which in due time she did.</p> + +<p>He congratulated Julia on having girl-children only.</p> + +<p>"Give me daughters!" he cried. "As my good old +Spanish grandfather used to say, give me daughters!"</p> + +<p>"Of this Spanish ancestor," our mother says, "no +one ever heard before. His descendant died, without +daughter or son, of cholera in 185-."</p> + +<p>We forget the name of another quaint personage, a +retired sea-captain, who once gave a party to which she +was allowed to go; but she remembered the party, and +the unction with which the kindly host, rubbing his +hands over the supper table, exclaimed: "Now, ladies +and gentlemen, help yourselves <i>sang froidy</i>!"</p> + +<p>The roses and gooseberry bushes of the Newport +garden once witnessed a serio-comic scene. There was +another sea-captain, Glover by name, who had business<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +connections with Prime, Ward & King, and who +came to the house sometimes on business, sometimes +for a friendly call. He was a worthy man of middle age +and unromantic appearance; probably the eighteen-year-old +Julia, dreamy and poetic, took no more notice +of him than civility required; but he took notice of her, +and one day asked her to walk out in the garden with +him. Wondering much, she went. After some desultory +remarks, the Captain drew a visiting-card from +his pocket, wrote a few words upon it, and handed it +to his young hostess. She read:—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">"<i>Russell E. Glover's</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">heart is yours!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>GIRLHOOD</h3> + +<h4>1839-1843; <i>aet.</i> 20-23</h4> + +<p> +The torch that lit these silent halls,<br /> +Has now extinguished been;<br /> +The windows of the soul are dark,<br /> +And all is gloom within.<br /> +<br /> +But lo! it shines, a star in heav'n,<br /> +And through death's murky night,<br /> +The ruins of the stately pile<br /> +Gleam softly in its light.<br /> +<br /> +And it shall be a beacon star<br /> +To cheer us, and to guide;<br /> +For we would live as thou hast lived,<br /> +And die as thou hast died. +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;"><i>Julia Ward</i>, on her father's death, 1839.</span><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>In Julia's childhood her brother Sam was her ideal +and her idol. She describes him as a "handsome +youth, quick of wit and tender of heart, brilliant in +promise, and with a great and versatile power of work +in him." He had early shown special proficiency in +mathematics, and to the end of his life rejoiced in being +one of the few persons who clearly understood the function +called "<i>Gamma</i>." His masters expected great +things from him; but his brilliant and effervescent +spirit was forced into the Wall Street mould, with +kindly intent but disastrous effect. His life was checkered, +sun and shadow; but from first to last, he remained +the delight of all who knew him. Sam Ward; +Uncle Sam to three generations, his was a name to conjure +with: the soul of generosity, the essence of wit, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +spirit of kindliness. No one ever looked in his face, ever +met the kindling glance of his dark eyes, ever saw the +sunshine break in his smile, without forgetting all else +in love and admiration of one of the most enchanting +personalities that ever brightened the world.</p> + +<p>Sam Ward returned from Europe in 1835, and took +up his residence under his father's roof. In 1838 he +married Emily, daughter of William B. Astor. The +wedding was a grand one. Julia was first bridesmaid, +and wore a dress of white <i>moiré</i>, then a material of the +newest fashion. Those were the days of the <i>ferronière</i>, +an ornament then so popular that "evening dress +was scarcely considered complete without it."<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> Julia +begged for one, and her father gave her a charming +string of pearls, which she wore with great contentment +at the wedding.</p> + +<p>The young couple took up their residence with the +family at "The Corner," the Francises having by this +time moved to a house of their own.</p> + +<p>With all these changes, little by little, the discipline +relaxed, the doors opened wider. The bridal pair, +<i>fêted</i> everywhere, must, in their turn, entertain their +friends; and in these entertainments the daughters of +the house must have their share.</p> + +<p>Julia Ward was now nineteen, in the fulness of her +early bloom. Her red-gold hair was no longer regarded +as a misfortune; her gray eyes were large and well +opened; her complexion of dazzling purity. Her finely +chiselled features, and the beauty of her hands and +arms, made an <i>ensemble</i> which could not fail to impress<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +all who saw her. Add to this her singing, her wit, and +the charm which was all and always her own, and we +have the <i>Diva Julia</i>, as she was called by some who +loved her. Her sisters, also, were growing up, each +exquisitely attractive in her way: they became known +as the "Three Graces of Bond Street." Louisa was like +a damask rose, Annie like a dark lily; dark, too, of eyes +and hair were Sam and Marion, while Henry was fair +and blue-eyed.</p> + +<p>At this distance of time, it may not be unpardonable +to touch briefly on another aspect of our mother's +youth; indeed, it would hardly be candid to avoid it. +From the first she seems to have stirred the hearts of +men. Her masters, old and young, fell in love with her +almost as a matter of course. Gilded youth and sober +middle-age fared no better; her girlhood passed to the +sound of sighing.</p> + +<p>"My dear," said an intimate friend of the three, +speaking of these days, "Louisa had her admirers, and +Annie had hers; but when the men saw your mother, +they just <i>flopped</i>!"</p> + +<p>Among her papers we have found many relics of +these days, from the faded epistle addressed, "<i>à Julie, +la respectée</i>, <i>la choisie</i>, <i>l'aimée</i>, <i>la chérie</i>," to the stern +letter in which Mr. Ward "desires not to conceal from +the Rev. Mr. —— the deliberate and dispassionate +opinion, that a gentleman whose sacred office commanded +ready access to his roof, might well have +earlier ascertained the views of a widow'd Father on +a subject so involving the happiness of his child."</p> + +<p>The unhappy suitor's note to Miss Julia is enclosed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +and Mr. Ward trusts that "the return will be considered +by the Rev. Mr. —— as finally terminating +the matter therein referred to."</p> + +<p>Julia had for her suitors a tender and compassionate +sympathy. She could not love them, she would not +marry them, but she was very sorry for them, and—it +must be admitted—she liked to be adored. So she +sang duets with one, read German with another, Anglo-Saxon +with a third; for all, perhaps, she may have had +something the feeling of her "<i>Coquette et Tendre</i>" in +"Passion Flowers."</p> + +<p> +Ere I knew life's sober meaning,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nature taught me simple wiles,</span><br /> +Gave this color, rising, waning,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gave these shadows, deepening smiles.</span><br /> +<br /> +More she taught me, sighing, singing,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Taught me free to think and move,</span><br /> +Taught this fond instinctive clinging<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To the helpful arm of love.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The suitors called her "<i>Diva</i>," but in the family +circle she was "Jules," or "Jolie Julie." The family +letters of this period are full of affectionate cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>When "Jolie Julie" is away on a visit, the others +send her a composite letter. Louisa threatens to shut +her up on her return with nothing to read but her +Anglo-Saxon grammar and "Beowulf." ("If that does +not give you a distaste for all wolves," she says, "not +excepting those <i>Long fellows</i>,<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> I do not know what +will!")</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> +<p>Annie tells of opening the window in Julia's room +and of all the poetical ideas flying out and away.</p> + +<p>Emily, her brother's wife, describes Mr. Ward sighing, +"Where is my beauty?" as he sits at the table; and +the letter closes with a lively picture of the books in the +library "heaving their dusty sides in sorrow for her +absence."</p> + +<p>In describing life at "The Corner," we must not forget +the evenings at No. 23, Colonel Henry Ward's +house. Uncle Henry and his namesake son (the boy +who was to "see death approaching with joy"!) were +musical. When Mr. Ward permitted (in his later and +more lenient days) an informal dance at "The Corner," +the three girls sent for Uncle Henry as naturally as +they sent for the hair-dressing and salad-making <i>émigrés</i>; +and the stately, handsome gentleman came, and +played waltzes and polkas with cheerful patience all +the evening.</p> + +<p>On Sunday the whole family from "The Corner" +took tea with Uncle Henry, and music was the order of +the evening. Mr. Ward delighted in these occasions, +and was never ready to go home. When Uncle Henry +thought it was bedtime, he would go to the piano and +play the "Rogue's March."</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(Twice flogged for stealing a sheep,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thrice flogged for de<i>sar</i>tion!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">If ever I go for a soldier again,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The devil may be my portion!</span><br /> +</p> +<p>We hear the fife shrill through the lively air!)</p> + +<p>"No! no, Colonel!" Mr. Ward would cry. "We +won't march yet; give us half an hour more!" And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +in affectionate mischief he would stay the half-hour +through before marshalling his flock back to "The +Corner."</p> + +<p>A stern period was put to all this innocent gayety by +the death of Mr. Ward, at the age of fifty-three. His +life, always laborious, had been doubly so since the +death of his wife. Stunned at first by the blow, his +strong sense of duty soon roused him to resume his +daily responsibilities—with a difference, however. +Religion had always been a powerful factor in his life; +henceforth it was to be his main inspiration, and he +found his chief comfort in works of public and private +beneficence.</p> + +<p>An earnest patriot, he was no politician; but when +his services were needed by city, state, or country, they +were always forthcoming. Throughout the series of +financial disasters beginning with Andrew Jackson's +refusal to renew the charter of the Bank of the United +States, and culminating in the panic of 1837, Mr. Ward +acted with vigor, decision, and sagacity. His denunciation +of the removal of the public deposits from the +Bank of the United States by the famous Specie Circular +as "an act so lawless, violent, and fraught with disaster, +that it would and must eventually overthrow the +men and the party that resorted to it," was justified, +literally and entirely.</p> + +<p>The crisis of 1836-37 called for all the strength, wisdom, +and public spirit that the men of the country +could show. Mr. Ward labored day and night to prevent +the dishonor of the banks of New York.</p> + +<p>"Individual effort, however, was vain, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +10th of May saw all the banks reduced to suspend +specie payments; and upon no man did that disastrous +day close with deeper mortification than upon +him. Personally, and in his business relations, this +event affected Mr. Ward as little possibly as any one +at all connected with affairs; but, in his estimation, +it vitally wounded the commercial honor and character +of the city. He was not, however, a man to +waste, in unavailing regrets, hours that might be +more advantageously employed to repair the evil, and +he therefore at once set about the arrangement of +measures for inducing and enabling the banks to resume +at the earliest possible moment."<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></p> + +<p>This was accomplished within the year. About the +same time the Bank of England sent to Prime, Ward & +King a loan of nearly five million dollars in gold. Mr. +King says, "This extraordinary mark of confidence, +this well-earned tribute to the prudence and integrity +of the house, Mr. Ward did not affect to undervalue, +and confirming, as it did, the sagacity of his own views, +and the results which he had so confidently foretold, it +was not lost upon the community in the midst of which +he lived."</p> + +<p>Our mother never forgot the afternoon when Brother +Sam came into her study on his return from Wall Street +and cried out to her:—</p> + +<p>"Julia, men have been going up and down the office +stairs all day long, carrying little wooden kegs of gold +on their backs, marked 'Prime, Ward & King' and +filled with English gold!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>That English gold saved the honor of the Empire +State, and the fact that her father procured the loan +was the greatest asset in her inheritance from the old +firm.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ward did not see the kegs, for he was in bed, +prostrated by a severe fit of sickness brought on by his +labors for the public honor. The few years that remained +to him were a very martyrdom, his old enemy, +rheumatic gout, attacking him more and more fiercely; +but his spirit was indomitable. He labored almost +single-handed to establish the Bank of Commerce, and +became its first president, stipulating that he should +receive no compensation. What he did receive was his +death-warrant. The dampness of the freshly plastered +walls of the new building brought on in the spring of +1839 two successive attacks so severe that he could not +rally from them. Still he toiled on, giving all his energies +to perfect and consolidate the enterprise which he +believed would be of lasting benefit to his beloved city.</p> + +<p>In October of the same year came another financial +crisis. The banks of Philadelphia and the Southern +States suspended specie payments, and every effort +was made to induce the New York banks to follow suit. +Mr. Ward was ill at Newport, but hearing the news +he hurried back and threw himself into the conflict, +exhorting, sustaining, encouraging.</p> + +<p>A friend protested, warning him of the peril to his +enfeebled health of such exertions. "I should esteem +life itself not unworthily sacrificed," said Mr. Ward, +"if by word or deed, I could aid the banks in adhering +faithfully to their duty."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>For nearly two weeks he labored, till the work was +done, his city's honor and fair fame secure; then he +went home literally to die, departing this life, November +27, 1839.</p> + +<p>Julia was with him when he died, his hand in hers. +The beauty of his countenance in death was such that +Anne Hall, the well-known miniature painter, begged +permission to paint it, and his descendants may still +gaze on the majestic features in their serene repose.</p> + +<p>Our mother writes of this time: "I cannot, even now, +bear to dwell upon the desolate hush which fell upon +our house when its stately head lay, silent and cold, in +the midst of weeping friends and children."<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></p> + +<p>Her love for her father was to cease only with her +life. She never failed to record his birthday in her +diary, with some word of tender remembrance.</p> + +<p>Shortly before Mr. Ward's death, Sam and his wife +had moved to a house of their own. The five unmarried +children would have been desolate, indeed, if left +to themselves in the great house: but to the joy and +comfort of all, their bachelor uncle, John Ward, left his +own house and came to live with them. From this time +until his death in 1866, he was a second father to them.</p> + +<p><i>Uncle John!</i> The words call up memories of our own +childhood. We see a tall, stalwart figure, clad in loose-fitting +garments; a noble head crowned by a small +brown scratch wig; a countenance beaming with kindliness +and humor. A Manila cheroot is between his lips—the +fragrance of one never fails to call up his image—and +he caresses an unamiable little dog which he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +fondly loves. He offers a grand-niece a silk dress if she +will make it up herself. This was the "Uncle John" of +No. 8 Bond Street, one of the worthies of Wall Street, +and uncle, by courtesy, to half New York.</p> + +<p>In his youth he had received an injury which deprived +him of speech for more than a year. It was +feared that he would never speak again; one day his +mother, trying to help him in some small matter, and +not succeeding to her mind, cried, "I am a poor, awkward, +old woman!"</p> + +<p>"<i>No, you are not!</i>" exclaimed John Ward; and the +trouble was over.</p> + +<p>His devotion to his orphan nieces and nephews was +constant and beautiful. He desired ardently that the +three girls should be good housekeepers, and grudged +the amount of time which one of them at least devoted +to books and music. To them also he was fond of giving +dress-materials, with the proviso that they should +make them up for themselves. This they managed to +do, "with a good deal of help from the family seamstress."</p> + +<p>When Julia published her first literary venture, a +translation of Lamartine's "Jocelyne," Uncle John +showed her a favorable notice of it in a newspaper, saying: +"This is my little girl who knows about books, and +writes an article and has it printed, but I wish she knew +more about housekeeping."</p> + +<p>"A sentiment," she adds, "which in after years I +had occasion to echo with fervor."</p> + +<p>While Sam was her ideal of youthful manhood, +Henry was her mate, the nearest to her in age and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +in sympathy. The bond between them was close and +tender; and when in October, 1840, he died of typhoid +fever, the blow fell on her with crushing severity.</p> + +<p>"When he closed his eyes," she says, "I would +gladly, oh, so gladly have died with him!" And again, +"I remember the time as one without light or comfort."</p> + +<p>She turned to seek consolation in religion, and—naturally—in +that aspect of religion which had been +presented to her childish mind as the true and only +one. At this time a great Calvinistic revival was going +on in New York, and a zealous friend persuaded Julia +to attend some of the meetings. In her anguish of grief, +the gloomy doctrines of natural depravity, of an angry +and vengeful Deity, of a salvation possible only through +certain strictly defined channels, came home to her +with terrible force. Her deeply religious nature sought +the Divine under however portentous an aspect it was +presented; her poet's imagination clung to the uplifted +Cross; these were days of emotion, of fervor, of exaltation +alternating with abasement; <i>thought</i> was to come +later.</p> + +<p>While under these influences, Julia, now at the head +of the household, enforced her Calvinistic principles +with rigor. The family were allowed only cold meat on +Sunday, to their great discomfort; the rather uninviting +midday dinner was named by Uncle John "Sentiment"; +but at six o'clock they were given hot tea, and +this he called "Bliss." Pious exhortations, sisterly admonitions, +were the order of the day. "The Old Bird"—this +<i>nom de tendresse</i> had now superseded "Jolie +Julie," and was to be hers while her sisters and brothers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +lived—hovered over the younger ones with maternal +anxiety. In the poems and letters of this period, she +adopts unconsciously the phraseology of the day.</p> + +<p>Being away on a visit, she writes to her sisters: "Believe +me, it is better to set aside, untasted, the cup of +human enjoyment, than to drink it to the bitter dregs, +and then seek for something better, which may not be +granted to us. The <i>manna</i> fell from heaven early in the +morning, those who then neglected to gather it were +left without nourishment; it is early in life's morning +that we must gather the heavenly food, which can alone +support us through the burden and heat of the day."</p> + +<p>The emotional fervor of this time was heightened by +a complication which arose from it. A young clergyman +of brilliant powers and passionate nature fell +deeply in love with Julia, and pressed his suit with +such ardor that she consented to a semi-engagement. +Fortunately, a visit to Boston gave her time to examine +her feelings. Relieved from the pressure of a +twofold excitement, breathing a calmer and a freer +air, she realized that there could be no true union +between her and the Rev. Mr. ——, and the connection +was broken off.</p> + +<p>The course of Julia's studies had for some years been +leading her into wider fields of thought.</p> + +<p>In her brother's library she found George Sand and +Balzac, and read such books as he selected for her. +In German she became familiar with Goethe, Jean +Paul, and Matthias Claudius. She describes the sense +of intellectual freedom derived from these studies as +"half delightful, half alarming."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>Mr. Ward one day had undertaken to read an English +translation of "Faust" and came to her in great +alarm. "My daughter," he said, "I hope that you +have not read this wicked book!" She had read it, and +"Wilhelm Meister," too (though in later life she +thought the latter "not altogether good reading for +the youth of our country"). Shelley was forbidden, +and Byron allowed only in small and carefully selected +doses.</p> + +<p>The twofold bereavement which weighed so heavily +upon her checked for a time the development of her +thought, throwing her back on the ideas which her +childhood had received without question; but her buoyant +spirit could not remain long submerged, and as the +poignancy of grief abated, her mind sought eagerly for +clearer vision.</p> + +<p>In the quiet of her own room, the bounds of thought +and of faith stretched wide and wider. Vision often +came in a flash: witness the moment when the question +of Matthias Claudius, "And is He not also +the God of the Japanese?" changed from a shocking +suggestion to an eternal truth. Witness also the moment +when, after reading "Paradise Lost," she saw +"the picture of an eternal evil, of Satan and his ministers +subjugated, indeed, by God, but not conquered, +and able to maintain against Him an opposition as +eternal as his goodness. This appeared to me impossible, +and I threw away, once and forever, the thought +of the terrible hell which till then had always formed +part of my belief. In its place I cherished the persuasion +that the victory of goodness must consist in making<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +everything good, and that Satan himself could +have no shield strong enough to resist permanently +the divine power of the divine spirit."</p> + +<p>New vistas were opening everywhere before her. +She made acquaintance with Margaret Fuller, who +read her poems, and urged her to publish them. Of one +of these poems, Miss Fuller writes:—</p> + +<p>"It is the record of days of genuine inspiration,—of +days when the soul lay in the light, when the spiritual +harmonies were clearly apprehended and great religious +symbols reanimated with their original meaning. +Its numbers have the fulness and sweetness of young +love, young life. Its gifts were great and demand the +service of a long day's work to <i>requite</i> and to interpret +them. I can hardly realize that the Julia Ward I have +seen has lived this life. It has not yet pervaded her +whole being, though I can recall something of it in the +steady light of her eye. May she become all attempered +and ennobled by this music. I saw in her taste, +the capacity for genius, and the utmost delicacy of +passionate feeling, but caught no glimpse at the time +of this higher mood.... If she publishes, I would not +have her omit the lines about the 'lonely room.' The +personal interest with which they stamp that part is +slight and delicate....</p> + +<p class="signature"> +"<span class="smcap">S. Margaret Fuller.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"I know of many persons in my own circle to whom +I think the poem would be especially grateful."<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> + +<p>On every hand she met people, who like herself were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +pressing forward, seeking new light. She heard Channing +preach, heard him say that God loves bad men +as well as good; another window opened in her soul. +Again, on a journey to Boston, she met Ralph Waldo +Emerson. The train being delayed at a wayside station, +she saw the Transcendentalist, whom she had +pictured as hardly human, carrying on his shoulder the +child of a poor and weary woman; her heart warmed +to him, and they soon made acquaintance. She, with +the ardor of youth, gave him at some length the religious +views which she still held in the main, and with +which she felt he would not agree. She enlarged upon +the personal presence of Satan on this earth, on his +power over man. Mr. Emerson replied with gentle +courtesy, "Surely the Angel must be stronger than the +Demon!" She never forgot these words; another window +opened, and a wide one.</p> + +<p>Julia Ward had come a long way from old Ascension +Church, where Peter Stuyvesant, in a full brown wig, +carried round the plate, and the Reverend Manton +(afterwards Bishop) Eastburn preached sermons "remarked +for their good English"; and where communicants +were not expected to go to balls or theatres.</p> + +<p>The years of mourning over, the Ward sisters took +up the pursuits natural to their age and position. +Louisa was now eighteen, very beautiful, already showing +the rare social gift which distinguished her through +life. The two sisters began a season of visiting, dancing, +and all manner of gayeties.</p> + +<p>The following letter illustrates this period of her +girlhood:—</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span><i>To her sisters</i></p> + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"><span class="smcap">Boston</span> (1842).<br /> +Friday, that's all I know about to-day.<br /> +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Chicks</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>Though I have a right to be tired, having talked +and danced for the two last nights, yet my enjoyment +is most imperfect until I have shared it with you, +so I must needs write to you, and tell you what a +very nice time I am having. Last night I went to +a party at Miss Shaw's, given to <i>Boz and me</i>, at +least, I was invited before he came here, so think +that I will only give him an equal share of the +honor. I danced a good deal, with some very agreeable +partners, and talked as usual with Sumner, Hillard,<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> +Longo,<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> etc. I was quite pleased that Boz recognized +Fanny Appleton and myself, and gave us a smile and +bow <i>en passant</i>. He could do no more, being almost +torn to pieces by the crowd which throngs his footsteps, +wherever he goes. I like to look at him, he has +a bright and most speaking countenance, and his face +is all wrinkled with the lines, not of care, but of laughter. +His manners are very free and cordial, and he +seems to be as capital a fellow as one would suppose +from his writings. He circulates as universally as small +change, and understands the art of gratifying others +without troubling himself, of letting himself be seen +without displaying himself—now this speaks for his +real good taste, and shows that if not a gentleman born +and bred, he is at least a man, every inch of him.</p> + +<p>... I have had hardly the least dash of Transcendentalism,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +and that of the very best description, a lecture +and a visit from Emerson, in both of which he said +beautiful things, and to-morrow (don't be shocked!) +a conversation at Miss Fuller's, which I shall treasure +up for your amusement and instruction. I have also +heard (don't go into hysterics!) Dr. Channing once. It +was a rare chance, as he does not now preach once in a +year. His discourse was very beautiful—and oh, such a +sermon as I heard from Father Taylor! I was almost +disposed to say, "surely never man spake like this +man." And now good-bye. I must shut up the budget, +and keep some for a rainy day. God bless my darling +sisters. Love to dear Sam and Uncle. Your</p> + +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Dudie</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />In these days also she first met her future husband.</p> + +<p>Samuel Gridley Howe was at this time (1842) forty-one +years of age; his life had been a stirring and adventurous +one. After passing through Brown University, +and the Harvard Medical School, in 1824 he threw +in his lot with the people of Greece, then engaged in +their War of Independence, and for six years shared +their labor and hardships in the field, and on shipboard, +being surgeon-in-chief first to the Greek army, then to +the fleet. It was noted by a companion in arms, that +"the only fault found with him was that he always +would be in the fight, and was only a surgeon when the +battle was over." He eventually found, however, that +his work was to be constructive, not destructive.</p> + +<p>The people were perishing for lack of food; he returned +to America, preached a crusade, and took back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +to Greece a shipload of food and clothing for the starving +women and children. Having fed them, he set them +to work; built a hospital and a mole (which stands to +this day in Ægina), founded a colony, and turned +the half-naked peasants into farmers. These matters +have been fully related elsewhere.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p> + +<p>Returning to this country in 1831, he took up the +education of the blind, which was to be chief among +the multifarious labors of his life.</p> + +<p>When Julia Ward first met him, he had been for nine +years Director of the Perkins Institution for the Blind, +and was known throughout the civilized world as the +man who had first taught language to a blind deaf +mute (Laura Bridgman).</p> + +<p>Up to this time a person thus afflicted was classed +with idiots, "because," as Blackstone says, "his mind +cannot be reached." This dictum had been recently reaffirmed +by a body of learned men. Dr. Howe thought +otherwise. Briefly, he invented a new science. "He +carefully reasoned out every step of the way, and made +a full and clear record of the methods which he invented, +not for his pupils alone, but for the whole +afflicted class for which he opened the way to human +fellowship.... His methods have been employed in +all subsequent cases, and after seventy years of trial +remain the standard."<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></p> + +<p>Hand in hand with Dorothea Dix, he was beginning +the great fight for helping and uplifting the insane; +was already, with Horace Mann, considering the condition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +of the common schools, and forging the weapons +for other fights which laid the foundations of the school +system of Massachusetts. Later, he was to take up +the cause of the feeble-minded, the deaf mute, the prisoner, +the slave; throughout his life, no one in "trouble, +sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity" was +ever to call on him in vain.</p> + +<p>His friends called him the "Chevalier"; partly because +the King of Greece had made him a Knight of +St. George, but more because they saw in him a good +knight without fear and without reproach. Charles +Sumner was his <i>alter ego</i>, the brother of his heart; others +of his intimates at that time were Longfellow, George +Hillard, Cornelius Felton, Henry Cleveland. This +little knot of friends called themselves "The Five of +Clubs," and met often to make merry and to discuss +the things of life.</p> + +<p>The summer of 1842 was spent by Julia Ward and +her sisters at a cottage in the neighborhood of Boston, +in company with their friend Mary Ward.<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> Here +Longfellow and Sumner often visited them, and here +Julia first heard of the Chevalier and his wonderful +achievement in educating Laura Bridgman. Deeply +interested, she gladly accepted the offer of the two +friends to drive her and her sisters over to the Perkins +Institution. She has described how "Mr. Sumner, +looking out of a window, said, 'Oh! here comes Howe +on his black horse.' I looked out also, and beheld a +noble rider on a noble steed."</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> +<p>The slender, military figure, the jet-black hair, keen +blue eyes, and brilliant complexion, above all the vivid +presence, like the flash of a sword—all these could +not fail to impress the young girl deeply; the Chevalier, +on his part, saw and recognized the <i>Diva Julia</i> of his +friends' description. She has told us "how acquaintance +ripened into good-will" between the two.</p> + +<p>The Chevalier, eager to push the acquaintance further, +went to New York to call on the Diva and her +family. In a private journal of the time we find the +following glimpse of the pair:—</p> + +<p>"Walked down Broadway with all the fashion and +met the pretty blue-stocking, Miss Julia Ward, with +her admirer, Dr. Howe, just home from Europe. She +had on a blue satin cloak and a white muslin dress. I +looked to see if she had on blue stockings, but I think +not. I suspect that her stockings were pink, and she +wore low slippers, as Grandmamma does. They say +she dreams in Italian and quotes French verses. She +sang very prettily at a party last evening, and accompanied +herself on the piano. I noticed how white her +hands were."</p> + +<p>During a subsequent visit to Boston in the winter +of 1842-43, Julia Ward and Dr. Howe became engaged. +The engagement was warmly welcomed by the +friends of both.</p> + +<p>Charles Sumner writes to Julia:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Howe has told me, with eyes flashing with joy, that +you have received his love. May God make you happy +in his heart, as I know he will be happy in yours! A +truer heart was never offered to woman. I know him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +well. I know the depth, strength, and constancy of his +affections, as the whole world knows the beauty of his +life and character. And oh! how I rejoice that these are +all to mingle in loving harmony with your great gifts of +heart and mind. God bless you! God bless you both! +You will strengthen each other for the duties of life; +and the most beautiful happiness shall be yours—that +derived from inextinguishable mutual love, and +from the consciousness of duty done.</p> + +<p>"You have accepted my dear Howe as your lover; +pray let me ever be</p> + +<div class="signature"> +"Your most affectionate friend,<br /> +"<span class="smcap">Charles Sumner</span>. +</div> + +<p>"P.S. Sir Huldbrand has subdued the restless +Undine, and the soul has been inspired into her; and +her 'wickedness' shall cease."</p></blockquote> + + +<p>Longfellow's letter to Dr. Howe also has been preserved +among the precious relics of the time.</p> + + +<blockquote><p> +<span class="smcap">My dearest Chevalier</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>From the deepest dungeons of my heart, all the +imprisoned sympathies and affections of my nature +cry aloud to you, saying "All hail!" On my return +from Portland this afternoon, I found your note, +and before reading it I read in Sumner's eyes your +happiness. The great riddle of life is no longer a +riddle to you; the great mystery is solved. I need +not say to you how very deeply and devoutly I rejoice +with you; and no one more so, I assure you. +Among all your friends, I am the oldest friend of your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +fair young bride; she is a beautiful spirit, a truth, which +friendship has learned by heart in a few years. Love +has taught you in as many hours!</p> + +<p>Of course you seem to be transfigured and glorified. +You walk above in the June air, while Sumner and I, +like the poor (sprites) in "Faust," who were struggling +far down in the cracks and fissures of the rocks, cry +out to you, "O take us with you! take us with you!"</p> + +<p>In fine, my dear Doctor, God bless you and yours. +You know already how much I approve your choice. +I went to your office this afternoon to tell you with +my own lips; but you were not there. Take, therefore, +this brief expression of my happiness at knowing you +are so happy; and believe me</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Ever sincerely your friend,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Longfellow</span>. +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">Cambridge</span>, Feb. 20, 1843.<br /><br /> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>At the same time Diva writes to her brother Sam:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The Chevalier says truly—I am the captive of +his bow and spear. His true devotion has won me from +the world, and from myself. The past is already fading +from my sight; already, I begin to live with him in the +future, which shall be as calmly bright as true love can +make it. I am perfectly satisfied to sacrifice to one so +noble and earnest the day dreams of my youth. He will +make life more beautiful to me than a dream....</p> + +<p>"The Chevalier is very presumptuous—says that +he will not lose sight of me for one day, that I must stay +here till he can return with me to New York. The +Chevalier is very impertinent, speaks of two or three +months, when I speak of two or three years, and seems<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +determined to have his own way: but, dear Bunny, the +Chevalier's way will be a very charming way, and is, +henceforth, to be mine."</p></blockquote> + +<p>It was not to be supposed that the Chevalier would +wait longer for his bride than was absolutely necessary. +The wedding preparations were hurried on, most +of them being made by Sisters Annie and Louisa, as +Julia could not be brought down from the clouds sufficiently +to give them much attention. It was hard +even to make her choose her wedding dress; but this +was finally decided upon, "a white embroidered muslin, +exquisitely fine, to be worn over a satin 'slip.'"</p> + +<p>The wedding, a quiet one, took place at Samuel +Ward's house, on April 23, 1843, and four days later, +Chevalier and Diva sailed together for Europe.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>TRAVEL</h3> + +<h4>1843-1844; <i>aet.</i> 24-25</h4> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">... I have been</span><br /> +In dangers of the sea and land, unscared;<br /> +And from the narrow gates of childbed oft<br /> +Have issued, bearing high my perilous prize<br /> +(The germ of angel-hood, from chaos rescued),<br /> +With steadfast hope and courage....</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 10em;">J. W. H.</span><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>In the forties it was no uncommon thing for a sister +or friend of the bride to form one of the wedding party +when a journey was to be taken; accordingly Annie +Ward went with the Howes and shared the pleasures of +a notable year. She was at this time seventeen; it was +said of her that "she looked so like a lily-of-the-valley +that one expected to see two long green leaves spring +up beside her as she walked."</p> + +<p>Horace Mann and his bride (Mary Peabody, sister +of Mrs. Nathaniel Hawthorne) sailed on the same +steamer; the friends met afterward in London and +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>The first days at sea were rough and uncomfortable. +Julia writes to her sister Louisa:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"I have had two days of extreme suffering, and look +like the Chevalier's grandmother. To-day I am on +deck, able to eat soup and herring, with grog in small +doses. Husband very kind, takes good care of me. I +am good for nothing, but try to be courageous. Mr. +and Mrs. Mann are very loving; she wears a monstrous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +sunbonnet; he lies down in his overcoat.... Brandy +and water are consoling; Dr. won't give us much, +though.... I could not get off my boots until last +night, I was so ill; I slept all the time, and forgot that +Annie was on board.... When you do get married, +don't leave in four days for Europe.... Don't forget +cake for my orphans.... Mrs. Mann wrote to me +yesterday, and recommended lemonade. I wrote back +to her, and recommended leeks and onions...."</p></blockquote> + +<p>And again, several days later:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Although the ship is very tipsy, and makes my +head and hand unsteady, I am anxious to write to you +that you may see what a brave sailor I am become, for +to write at sea one must be quite well. I am ashamed +to have written you so sea-sick a letter near Halifax, +but I was then just out of my berth, and very miserable. +Since that time, I have not once laid by—we +have had some rough days, but I have always held up +my head, and eaten my dinner, 'helping myself <i>sang-froidy</i>' +to all manner of good things. At first, I could +not do without brandy and water, but in a little while +I ceased to require it; now I go tumbling about all over +the ship, singing at the top of my voice, teasing Chevalier, +and comforting the sea-sick.... I live on deck, +rain or shine. Annie stays too much in the cabin, +which is strewn with sick ladies, and grannies of the +other sex, and which ever resounds with cries of 'Mrs. +Bean! Mrs. Bean! soda water! Mrs. Bean, soup! Mrs. +Bean, gruel with brandy in it! Mrs. Bean, hold my +head! Mrs. Bean, wag my jaws!' Mrs. Bean is the +stewardess, and an angel....</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>"<i>Saturday morning.</i> We are now in sight of land, +and in smooth water.... Annie and I were getting +very much used to the ship, and are just in fine trim +for a long voyage. I even miss the rolling and pitching +which we have had until to-day, and which made it necessary +to walk with great circumspection. You would +have laughed to have seen us, going about like tipsy +witches. I have had various tumbles. I confess that +when the ship rolled and I felt myself going, I generally +made for the stoutest man in sight, and pitched into +him, the result being various apologies on both sides, +and great merriment on the part of the spectators—a +little of the old mischief left, you see. The old cow began +to smell the land yesterday, she reared and bellowed, +and butted at the butcher when he went to +milk her. This is her third voyage. I cannot tell you +how good my husband is, how kind, how devoted...."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Arriving in London, they took lodgings in upper +Baker Street.</p> + +<p>This first visit to London was one which our mother +always loved to recall. Not only had the pair brought +letters to many notabilities, but Dr. Howe's reputation +had preceded him, and every reader of Dickens's +"American Notes" was eager to meet the man who +had brought a soul out of prison.</p> + +<p>Julia writes to her sister Louisa (June 17):—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"I have said something,—I can hardly say enough, +of the kindness we have received here. London seems +already a home to us, and one surrounded by dear +friends. Morpeth and his family, Rogers, Basil Montagu, +and Sir R. H. Inglis have been our best friends.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +Sydney Smith also has been kind to us; he calls Howe +'Prometheus,' and says that he gave a soul to an +inanimate body. For four mornings, we have not once +breakfasted at home. Milnes gave us one very nice +breakfast; among the guests was Charles Buller, celebrated +here for his wit and various endowments. The +two handsomest women I have seen are Mrs. Norton +and the Duchess of Sutherland—the former of these +rather a haughty beauty, with flashing eye and swelling +lip, and dress too low for our notions of propriety—this +is common enough here...."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The Doctor was lame (the result of an accident on +shipboard), and the Reverend Sydney Smith, one of +their earliest visitors, insisted on lending him his own +crutches. The Doctor demurred; he was tall, while +Canon Smith was short and stout. The crutches were +sent, nevertheless. They could not be used, and were +returned with thanks; not so soon, however, but that +the kind and witty Canon made of the incident a peg +on which to hang a jest. He had lost money by American +investments; in a letter published in a London +paper, after reflecting severely upon the failure of some +of the Western States to pay their debts, he added: +"And now an American doctor has deprived me of my +last means of support!"</p> + +<p>Sydney Smith proved genuinely kind and solicitous. +He writes to the Doctor:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"You know as well as I do, or better, that nature +charges one hundred per cent for a bad leg used before +the proper time, and that if you use it a day sooner +than you ought, it may molest you for a month longer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +than you expect. This being; [<i>sic</i>] if your ladies will +trust themselves to me any day, I shall have great pleasure +in escorting them in their sight-seeing, and will call +upon them with my carriage, if that be possible."</p></blockquote> + +<p>He did take them about a great deal; they dined with +him, and passed more than one delightful evening at +his house.</p> + +<p>Another of their early visitors was Charles Dickens. +Not only did he invite them to dine, but he took them +to all manner of places unfamiliar to the ordinary tourist: +to prisons, workhouses, and asylums, more interesting +to the Chevalier than theatre or picture-gallery.</p> + +<p>There were even expeditions to darker places, when +Julia and Annie must stay at home. Dr. Howe's affair +was with all sorts and conditions of men, and the +creator of Joe and Oliver Twist, the child of the Marshalsea, +could show him things that no one else could. +The following note, in Dickens's unmistakable handwriting, +shows how these expeditions were managed, +and how he enjoyed them:—</p> + + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">My dear Howe</span>,—Drive to-night to St. Giles's +Church. Be there at half-past 11—and wait. One +of Tracey's people will put his head into the coach after +a Venetian and mysterious fashion, and breathe your +name. Follow that man. Trust him to the death.</p> + +<p>So no more at present from</p> + +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">The Mask</span>. +</div> +<p>Ninth June, 1843.<br /><br /> +</p></blockquote> + + +<p>Horace Mann was of the party on most of these +investigations.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>Beside dinners and evening parties, there were breakfasts, +with Richard Monckton Milnes (afterward Lord +Houghton), with Samuel Rogers,—who gave them +plovers' eggs,—and with jovial Sir Robert Harry Inglis, +who cut the loaf at either end, giving the guests "a +slice or a hunch" at their desire.</p> + +<p>This meal, our mother notes, was not "a luncheon +in disguise," but a genuine breakfast, at ten or even +half-past nine o'clock.</p> + +<p>She writes to her sister Louisa:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"People have been very kind to us—we have one +or two engagements for every day this week, and had +three dinners for one day, two of which we were, of +course, forced to decline. We had a pleasant dinner at +Dickens's, on Saturday—a very handsome entertainment, +consisting of all manner of good things. Dickens +led me in to dinner—waxed quite genial over his wine, +and was more natural than I ever saw him—after +dinner we had coffee, conversation and music, to which +I lent my little wee voice! We did not get home until +half-past eleven.... Annie has doubtless told you +how we went to see Carlyle, and Mrs. was out, and I +poured tea for him, and he handed me the preserves +with: 'I do not know what thae little things are, perhaps +you can eat them—I never touch them mysel'.' +This naturally made me laugh—we had a strange but +pleasant evening with him—he is about forty, looks +young for that, drinks powerful tea, and then goes it +strong upon all subjects, but without extravagance—he +has a fine head, an earnest face, a glowing eye.... +Furthermore, we have walked into the affections of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +Hon. Basil Montagu, and Mrs. Basil—furthermore, +Annie and I did went alone to a rout at Mrs. Sydney +Smith's, and were announced, 'Mrs. 'Owe hand Miss +Vord'—did not know a soul, Annie frightened, I +bored—got hold of some good people—made friends, +drank execrable tea, finished the evening by a crack +with Sir Sydney himself, and came off victorious, that +is to say alive. Sir S. very like old Mrs. Prime, three +chins, and such a corporosity!...</p> + +<p>"<i>Saturday, June 2nd.</i> We have been too busy to +write. We dined on Wednesday with Kenyon—present +Dickens's wife, Fellows, Milnes and some others—Milnes +a pert little prig, but pleasant. <i>À propos</i>, when +he came to call upon us, our girl announced him as 'Mr. +Miller'—our conversation ran upon literature, and I +had the exquisite discrimination to tell him that except +Wordsworth, there were no great poets in England now. +Fortunately he soon took his departure, and thus prevented +me from expressing the light estimation in +which I hold his poetry. On Thursday Morpeth gave +us a beautiful dinner—thirteen servants in the hall, +powdered heads, Lady Carlisle very like Morpeth—Lady +Mary Howard not pretty; Duchess of Sutherland, +beautiful, but like Lizzie Hogg. They gave us strawberries, +the first we have tasted, green peas, pines, +peaches, apricots, grapes—all very expensive. We +stayed until nearly twelve—they were very gracious—Annie +and I are little people here—we are too +young(?) to be noticed—we are very demure, and +have learned humility. Chev receives a great deal of +attention, ladies press forward to look at him, roll up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +their eyes, and exclaim, 'Oh! he is such a wonner!' I do +not like that the pretty women should pay him so many +compliments—it will turn his little head! He is now +almost well, and so handsome! the wrinkles are almost +gone—Yesterday, Sir Robert Inglis gin us a treat +in the shape of a breakfast—it was very pleasant, +albeit Sir R. is very pious, and a Tory to boot. We +had afterward a charming visit from Carlyle—in the +evening we went to Landsdowne House, to a concert +given by the Marquis—heard Grisi, Lablache, Mario, +Standigl, were much pleased—I was astonished, +though, to find that our little trio at home was not +bad, even in comparison with these stars. They have, +of course, infinitely better voices, but hang me if they +sing with half the enthusiasm and fire of our old Sam +and Cousi, or even of poor Dudy. Grisi's voice is beautifully +clear and flute-like—Mario sings <i>si-be-mol</i> and +natural with perfect ease. I was most interested in the +German Standigl, who sang the '<i>Wanderer</i>' with +wonderful pathos. Lablache thundered away—I +must see them on the stage before I shall be able to +judge of them. After music we had supper. Willie +Wad<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> was indefatigable in our service. 'Go, and bring +us a great deal more lemonade!' these were our oft-repeated +orders, and the good Geneseo trotted to the +table for us, till, as he expressed it, 'he was ashamed +to go any more.' Lansdowne is a devilish good fellow! +ho! ho! He wears a blue belt across his diaphragm, +and a silver star on his left breast—he jigs up and +down the room, and makes himself at home in his own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +house. He is about sixty, with Marchioness to match; +side dishes, I presume, but did not inquire. I have just +been breakfasting at the Duke of Sutherland's superb +palace. I will tell you next time about it. Lady Carlisle +says I am nice and pretty, oh! how I love her!..."</p></blockquote> + +<p>In another letter she says:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"I take some interest in everything I see—especially +in all that throws light upon human prog. The Everetts<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> +have given us a beautiful and most agreeable +dinner: Dickens, Mrs. Norton, Moore, Landseer, and +one or two others. Rogers says: 'I have three pleasures +in the day: the first is, when I get up in the morning, +and scratch myself with my hair mittens; the second +is when I dress for dinner, and scratch myself with my +hair mittens; the third is when I undress at night, +and scratch myself with my hair mittens.'..."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Beside this feast of hospitality, there was the theatre, +with Macready and Helen Faucit in the "Lady of +Lyons," and the opera, with Grisi and Mario, Alboni +and Persiani. Julia, who had been forbidden the theatre +since her seventh year, enjoyed to the full both +music and drama, but "the crowning ecstasy of all" +she found in the ballet, of which Fanny Elssler and +Cerito were the stars. The former was beginning to +wane; the dancing which to Emerson and Margaret +Fuller seemed "poetry and religion" had lost, perhaps, +something of its magic; the latter was still in her early +bloom and grace.</p> + +<p>Years later, our mother suggested to Theodore Parker +that "the best stage dancing gives the <i>classic, in a +fluent form</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> with the illumination of life and personality." +She recalled nothing sensual or even sensuous +in the dances she saw that season, only "the very +ecstasy and embodiment of grace." (But the Doctor +thought Cerito ought to be sent to the House of Correction!)</p> + +<p>Among the English friends, the one to whom our +parents became most warmly attached was Lord +Morpeth, afterwards Earl of Carlisle. This gentleman +proved a devoted friend. Not only did he show the +travellers every possible attention in London, but +finding that they were planning a tour through Wales, +Ireland, and Scotland, he made out with great care +an itinerary for them, giving the roads by which they +should travel and the points of interest they should +visit.</p> + +<p>Very reluctantly they left the London of so many +delights, and started on the prescribed tour, following +in the main the lines laid down by their kind friend.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Louisa</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +Sunday, July 2. +</div> + +<p>... We are in Dublin, among the Paddies, and +funny enough they are. There are many beggars—you +cannot get into the carriage without being surrounded +with ragged women holding out their dirty +hands, and clamouring for ha'pence—we have just +returned from Edgeworthtown; on our way, we +walked into some of the peasants' huts. I will tell you +about one—it was thatched, built very miserably, +had no floor except the native mud; there was a peat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +fire, which filled the house with smoke—before the +fire lay the pig, grunting in concert with the chickens, +who were picking up scraps of the dinner, which consisted +of potatoes and salt—three families live in it. +Two sets of little ragamuffins are sitting in the dirt. +Ch. bestows some pence: "God kape your honour—God +save ye, wherever ye go, and sure and it's a nice, +comfortable looking young woman you have got with +you, an uncommon pretty girl" (that is me). Don't +they understand the matter, eh? We passed three +delightful hours with Miss Edgeworth, in the library +in which she wrote all her works—she was surrounded +by a numerous and charming family, among others, +the last of her father's four wives, whom she calls +mother, although the lady must be some ten years her +junior. She is herself a most vivacious little lady, about +seventy-five years old, but gay and bright as a young +girl—she seemed quite delighted with Ch., and conversed +with him on many topics in a very animated +manner. She has very clear and sound views of things, +and takes the liveliest interest in all that goes on +around her, and in the world. One of her younger +brothers (with a nice Spanish wife) has a nest of very +young children, in whom she delights as much as if she +had not helped to bring up three sets of brothers and +sisters. She said to me: "It is not only for Laura Bridgman +that I wanted to see Dr. Howe, but I admire the +spirit of all his writings." She gave him some engravings, +and wrote her name at the bottom.... At one +o'clock, we went to luncheon which was very nice, +consisting of meat, potatoes, and preserves.... She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +made us laugh, and laughed herself. They were saying +that American lard was quite superseding whale oil. +"Yes," said she, "and in consequence, the whale cannot +bear the sight of a pig." Her little nephew made a +real bull. He was showing me his rat trap, "and," said +he, "I shall kill the rat before I let him out, eh?"...</p> + +<p><i>Dublin, Tuesday.</i> Went to the Repeal meeting at +the Corn Exchange. It was held in a small room in the +third or fourth story. "A shilling, sir," said the man +at the door to my husband.—"What!" replied he, +"do ladies pay?"—"Not unless they'd like to become +repealers." We passed up—the gentlemen went on +to the floor of the room—we went to the ladies' gallery, +a close confined place at one end—we were early, +and had good seats, for a time at least—we separated, +not anticipating the trouble we should have in finding +each other again—for the ladies, comprising orangewomen, +washerwomen, and I fear, all manner of women, +poured in, without much regard to order, decency, +and the rights of prior possession—and when O'Connell +came in, which was in about three quarters of an +hour, they pressed, and pushed, and squeezed, and +scolded, as only Irishwomen can do....The current +of female patriotism bore down upon me in a most +painful manner—a sort of triangular pressure seemed +applied to my poor body which threatened to destroy, +not only my centre of gravity, but my very personal +identity. I was obliged, I regret to say, to defend myself +as I have sometimes done in a quadrille or waltzing +circle in New York—I was forced to push in my +turn, though as moderately as I could. This was not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +my only trouble—in the crowd, I had scraped acquaintance +with a respectable Irishwoman, who, after +various questions, discovered that I was an American, +and imagined me at once to be a good Catholic and +repealer—so when O'Connell made some allusions to +the Americans, she said so as to be heard by several +people, who immediately began to look at me with +curious eyes—"You shouldn't disturb her, she's an +American," and they would for a time cease to molest +me....O'Connell was not great on this occasion—his +remarks were rambling and superficial, distinguished +chiefly by their familiarity, and by the extreme +ingenuity with which the cunning orator disguises the +tendencies of the sentiments he vindicates, and talks +treason, yet so that the law cannot lay a finger upon +him. He had begun his speech when Steele, a brother +repealer, entered. He stopped at once, held out his +hand to him, saying in a loud tone, "Tom Steele, how +d'ye do?" which drew forth bursts of applause. "And +is he a good man?" I asked of a lady repealer (whether +apple-woman or seller of ginger beer, I know not). "Oh, +Ma'am, he is the best <i>cratur</i>, the most charitable, the +most virtuous, the most religious man—sure, he goes +to the communion every Sunday, and never says no +to no one."</p></blockquote> + + +<p>The visit to Scotland was all too hasty, the notes +are mere brief jottings; at the end she "remembered +but one thing, the grave of Scott. In return for all the +delight he had given me, I had nothing to give him but +my silent tears."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>The end of July found the party once more in England. +The following letter tells of the unlucky visit +to Wordsworth which our mother (after forty-six +years) describes from memory in her "Reminiscences" +in slightly different terms.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Louisa</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +July 29.<br /> +</div> + +<p>... I am very glad to be out of Ireland and Scotland, +where we had incessant rains—even the beautiful +Loch Katrine would not show herself to us in sunshine. +We crossed in an open boat, and had a pony ride of +five miles, all in as abominable a drizzle as you would +wish to see. The Cumberland Lakes, among which +we sought the shrine of Wordsworth, were almost as +unaccommodating—in driving to Windermere we got +wetted to the skin, and dashed down the steep mountain +road in a thick mist, with a pair of horses, so unruly +that I supposed the miseries of wet garments would +soon be cancelled by that of a broken neck. I prayed +to Saint Crispin, Saint Nicholas, and the three kings +of Köln, and got through the danger—in the evening +we visited Wordsworth, a crabbed old sinner, who +gave us a very indifferent muffin, and talked repudiation +with Chev. As he had just lost a great deal of +money by Mississippi bonds, you may imagine that +he felt particularly disposed to be cordial to Americans—and +not knowing, probably, that New York is not +in the heart of Louisiana, he was inclined no doubt to +cast part of the odium upon us. Accordingly Mrs. +Wordsworth and her daughter sat at one end of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +room, Annie and I at the other. Incensed at this unusual +neglect, I made several interjections in a low +tone for Annie's benefit (my husband allows me to +swear once a week)—at length, good Townsend-on-Mesmerism +came to my relief, and kindly talked with +me for an hour or more—he is a charming person, +and rides other people's horses as well as his own hobby. +He dislikes England, and lives principally in Germany. +Kind Heaven, at the termination of the evening, sent +me an opportunity of imparting a small portion of the +internal pepper and mustard which had been ripening +in my heart during the whole evening. The mother +and daughter beginning to whine to me about their +losses, I told them that where one Englishman had +suffered, twenty Americans were perhaps ruined. They +replied, it was hard they should suffer for the misfortunes +of another country. "And why," quoth I, +"must you needs speculate in foreign stocks? Why +did you not keep your money at home? It was safe +enough in England—you knew there was risk in investing +it so far from you—if we should speculate in +yours, we should no doubt be ruined also." This explosion, +from my meek self, took the company somewhat +by surprise—they held their tongues, and we +departed....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />From England the travellers had meant to go to Berlin, +but the King of Prussia, who eleven years before +had kept Dr. Howe in prison <i>au secret</i> for five weeks +for carrying (at the request of General Lafayette) succor +to certain Polish refugees, still regarded him as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +dangerous person, and Prussia was closed to him and +his. This greatly amused Horace Mann, who wrote to +the Doctor, "I understand the King of Prussia has +about 200,000 men constantly under arms, and if necessary +he can increase his force to two millions. This +shows the estimation in which he holds your single +self!"</p> + +<p>Years later, the King sent Dr. Howe a gold medal +in consideration of his work for the blind: by a singular +coincidence, its money value was found to equal +the sum which the Doctor had been forced to pay for +board and lodging in the prison of Berlin.</p> + +<p>Making a détour, the party journeyed through Switzerland +and the Austrian Tyrol, spent some weeks in +Vienna, and a month in Milan, where they met Count +Gonfalonieri, one of the prisoners of Spielberg. Julia +had known two of these sufferers, Foresti and Albinola, +in New York, where they lived for many years, +beloved and respected. Hearing the talk of these men, +and seeing Italy bound hand and foot in temporal +and spiritual fetters, she was deeply impressed by the +apparent hopelessness of the outlook for the Italian +patriots. By what miracle, she asked herself long +afterward, was the great structure overthrown? She +adds, "The remembrance of this miracle forbids me +to despair of any great deliverance, desired and delayed. +He who maketh the wrath of men to serve +Him, can make liberty blossom out of the very rod +that the tyrant [wields]."</p> + +<p>Southward still they journeyed, by <i>vettura</i>, in the +old leisurely fashion, and came at last to Rome.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>The thrill of wonder that Julia felt at the first sight +of St. Peter's dome across the Campagna was one of +the abiding impressions of her life; Rome was to be one +of the cities of her heart; the charm was cast upon her +in that first moment. Yet she says of that Rome of +1843, "A great gloom and silence hung over it."</p> + +<p>The houses were cold, and there were few conveniences; +but Christmas found the Howes established in +the Via San Niccolo da Tolentino, as comfortably as +might be. Here they were joined by Louisa Ward, and +here they soon gathered round them a delightful circle +of friends. Most of the <i>forestieri</i> of Rome in those days +were artists; among those who came often to the house +were Thomas Crawford, Luther Terry, Freeman the +painter and his wife, and Törmer, who painted a portrait +of Julia. The winter passed like a dream. There +were balls as gorgeous as those of London, with the +beautiful Princess Torlonia in place of the Duchess of +Sutherland; musical parties, at which Diva sang to the +admiration of all. There were visits to the galleries, +where George Combe was of the party, and where he +and the Chevalier studied the heads of statues and +busts from the point of view of phrenology, a theory +in which both were deeply interested. They were presented +to the Pope, Gregory XVI, who wished to hear +about Laura Bridgman. The Chevalier visited all the +"public institutions, misnamed charitable,"<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> and the +schools, whose masters were amazed to find that he +was an American, and asked how in that case it happened +that he was not black!</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> +<p>In her "Reminiscences" our mother records many +vivid impressions of these Roman days. She had forgotten, +or did not care to recall, a certain languor and +depression of spirits which in some measure dimmed +for her the brightness of the picture, but which were +to give place to the highest joy she had yet known. +On March 12, her first child was born, and was christened +Julia Romana.</p> + +<p>There are neither journals nor letters of this period; +the only record of it—from her hand—lies in two +slender manuscript books of verse, marked respectively +"1843" and "1844." In these volumes we trace her +movements, sometimes by the title of a poem, as "Sailing," +"The Ladies of Llangollen," "The Roman Beggar +Boy," etc., sometimes by a single word written +after the poem, "Berne," "Milan."</p> + +<p>From these poems we learn that she did not expect +to survive the birth of her child; yet with that birth +a new world opened before her.</p> + +<p> +He gave the Mother's chastened heart,<br /> +He gave the Mother's watchful eye,<br /> +He bids me live but where thou art,<br /> +And look with earnest prayer on high.<br /><br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> + +Then spake the angel of Mothers<br /> +To me in gentle tone:<br /> +"Be kind to the children of others<br /> +And thus deserve thine own!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>When, in the spring of 1844, she left Rome with husband, +sister, and baby, it seemed, she says, "like +returning to the living world after a long separation +from it."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>Journeying by way of Naples, Marseilles, Avignon, +they came at length to Paris.</p> + +<p>Here Julia first saw Rachel, and Taglioni, the greatest +of all dancers; here, too, she tried to persuade the +Chevalier to wear his Greek decorations to Guizot's +reception, but tried in vain, he considering such ornaments +unfitting a republican.</p> + +<p>The autumn found them again in England, this +time to learn the delights of country visiting. Their +first visit was to Atherstone, the seat of Charles Nolte +Bracebridge, a descendant of Lady Godiva, a most +cultivated and delightful man. He and his charming +wife made the party welcome, and showed them everything +of interest except the family ghost, which remained +invisible.</p> + +<p>Another interesting visit was to the Nightingales of +Embley. Florence Nightingale was at this time a young +woman of twenty-four. A warm friendship sprang up +between her and our parents, and she felt moved to +consult the Doctor on the matter which then chiefly +occupied her thoughts. Would it, she asked, be unsuitable +or unbecoming for a young Englishwoman to +devote herself to works of charity, in hospitals and elsewhere, +as the Catholic Sisters did?</p> + +<p>The Doctor replied: "My dear Miss Florence, it +would be unusual, and in England whatever is unusual +is apt to be thought unsuitable; but I say to you, go +forward, if you have a vocation for that way of life; +act up to your inspiration, and you will find that there +is never anything unbecoming or unladylike in doing +your duty for the good of others. Choose your path,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +go on with it, wherever it may lead you, and God be +with you!"</p> + +<p>Among the people they met in the autumn of 1844 +was Professor Fowler, the phrenologist. This gentleman +examined Julia's head, and made the following +pronunciamento:—</p> + +<p>"You're a deep one! it takes a Yankee to find you +out. The intellectual temperament predominates in +your character. You will be a central character like +Henry Clay and Silas Wright, and people will group +themselves around you."</p> + +<p>Now Julia could not abide Professor Fowler.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" she snapped out angrily. "They've +always been my models!"</p> + +<p>"The best things you do," he went on, "will be +done on the spur of the moment. You have enough +love of order to enjoy it, but you will not take the +trouble to produce it. You have more religion than +morality. You have genius, but no music in you by +nature."</p> + +<p>Fifty years later these words were fresh in her +memory.</p> + +<p>"I disliked Mr. Fowler extremely," she said, "and +believed nothing of what he said; nevertheless, most +of his predictions were verified. I had at the time no +leading in any of the directions he indicated. I had +been much shut up in personal and family life; was +a person rather of antipathies than sympathies. His +remarks made <i>no impression</i>. Yet," she added, "I +always had a sense of <i>relation to the public</i>, but thought +the connection would come through writing."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>Apropos of Mr. Fowler's "more religion than morality," +she said: "Morality is a thing of the will; we may +think differently of such matters at different times. +What he said may have been true."</p> + +<p>Then the twinkle came into her eyes: "When Mr. +William Astor heard of my engagement, he said, 'Why, +Miss Julia, I am surprised! I thought you were too +intellectual to marry!'"</p> + +<p>Another acquaintance of this autumn was the late +Arthur Mills, who was through life one of our parents' +most valued friends. He came to America with them; +in his honor, during the voyage, Julia composed +"The Milsiad," scribbling the lines day by day in a +little note-book, still carefully preserved in the Mills +family.</p> + +<p>The first and last stanzas give an idea of this poem, +which, though never printed, was always a favorite +with its author.</p> + +<p> +My heart fills<br /> +With the bare thought of the illustrious Mills:<br /> +That man of eyes and nose,<br /> +Of legs and arms, of fingers and of toes.<br /><br /> + +* * * +* * * <br /> + +To lands devoid of tax<br /> +Goeth he not, armed with axe?<br /> +Trees shall he cut down,<br /> +And forests ever?<br /> +Tame cataracts with a frown?<br /> +Grin all the fish from Mississippi River?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(My style is grandiose,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Quite in the tone of Mills's nose.)</span><br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * +<br /> +Harp of the West, through wind and foggy weather<br /> +We've sung our passage to our native land,<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>Now I have reached the terminus of tether,<br /> +And I must lay thee trembling from my hand.<br /> +That hand must ply the ignominious needle,<br /> +This mind brood o'er the salutary dish,<br /> +I must grow sober as a parish beadle,<br /> +And having fish to fry, must fry my fish.<br /> +Some happier muse than mine shall wake thy spell,<br /> +Harp of the West, oh Gemini! farewell! +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>SOUTH BOSTON</h3> + +<h4>1844-1851; <i>aet.</i> 25-32</h4> + +<p>THE ROUGH SKETCH</p> + +<p> +A great grieved heart, an iron will,<br /> +As fearless blood as ever ran;<br /> +A form elate with nervous strength<br /> +And fibrous vigor,—all a man.<br /> +<br /> +A gallant rein, a restless spur,<br /> +The hand to wield a biting scourge;<br /> +Small patience for the tasks of Time,<br /> +Unmeasured power to speed and urge.<br /> +<br /> +He rides the errands of the hour,<br /> +But sends no herald on his ways;<br /> +The world would thank the service done,<br /> +He cannot stay for gold or praise.<br /> +<br /> +Not lavishly he casts abroad<br /> +The glances of an eye intense,<br /> +And did he smile but once a year,<br /> +It were a Christmas recompense.<br /> +<br /> +I thank a poet for his name,<br /> +The "Down of Darkness," this should be;<br /> +A child, who knows no risk it runs,<br /> +Might stroke its roughness harmlessly.<br /> +<br /> +One helpful gift the Gods forgot,<br /> +Due to the man of lion-mood;<br /> +A Woman's soul, to match with his<br /> +In high resolve and hardihood.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + +<blockquote><p>The name of Laura Bridgman will long continue to suggest to the hearer +one of the most brilliant exploits of philanthropy, modern or ancient. Much +of the good that good men do soon passes out of the remembrance of busy +generations, each succeeding to each, with its own special inheritance of +labor and interest. But it will be long before the world shall forget the courage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +and patience of the man who, in the very bloom of his manhood, sat +down to besiege this almost impenetrable fortress of darkness and isolation, +and, after months of labor, carried within its walls the divine conquest of +life and of thought.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +J. W. H., <i>Memoir of Dr. Samuel G. Howe</i>.<br /><br /> +</div></blockquote> + + +<p>In September, 1844, the travellers returned to America +and took up their residence at the Perkins Institution, +in South Boston, in the apartment known as the +"Doctor's Wing."</p> + +<p>At first, Laura Bridgman made one of the family, +the Doctor considering her almost as an adopted child. +His marriage had been something of a shock to her.</p> + +<p>"Does Doctor love me like Julia?" she asked her +teacher anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"Does he love God like Julia?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>A pause: then—"God was kind to give him his +wife!"</p> + +<p>She and Julia became much attached to each other, +and were friends through life.</p> + +<p>Julia was now to realize fully the great change that +had come in her life. She had been the acknowledged +queen of her home and circle in New York. Up to this +time, she had known Boston as a gay visitor knows it.</p> + +<p>She came now as the wife of a man who had neither +leisure nor inclination for "<i>Society</i>"; a man of tenderest +heart, but of dominant personality, accustomed to rule, +and devoted to causes of which she knew only by hearsay; +moreover, so absorbed in work for these causes, +that he could only enjoy his home by snatches.</p> + +<p>She herself says: "The romance of charity easily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +interests the public. Its laborious details and duties +repel and weary the many, and find fitting ministers +only in a few spirits of rare and untiring benevolence. +Dr. Howe, after all the laurels and roses of victory, +had to deal with the thorny ways of a profession tedious, +difficult, and exceptional. He was obliged to +create his own working machinery, to drill and instruct +his corps of teachers, himself first learning the secrets +of the desired instruction. He was also obliged to keep +the infant Institution fresh in the interest and goodwill +of the public, and to give it a place among the +recognized benefactions of the Commonwealth."</p> + +<p>From the bright little world of old New York, from +relatives and friends, music and laughter, fun and frolic, +she came to live in an Institution, a bleak, lofty house +set on a hill, four-square to all the winds that blew; +with high-studded rooms, cold halls paved with white +and gray marble, echoing galleries; where three fourths +of the inmates were blind, and the remaining fourth +were devoting their time and energies to the blind. +The Institution was two miles from Boston, where the +friends of her girlhood lived: an unattractive district +stretched between, traversed once in two hours by +omnibuses, the only means of transport.</p> + +<p>Again, her life had been singularly free from responsibility. +First her Aunt Francis, then her sister Louisa, +had "kept house" in Bond Street; Julia had been a +flower of the field, taking no thought for food or raiment; +her sisters chose and bought her clothes, had her +dresses made, and put them on her. Her studies, her +music, her dreams, her compositions—and, it must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +be added, her suitors—made the world in which she +lived. Now, life in its most concrete forms pressed +upon her. The baby must be fed at regular intervals, +and she must feed it; there must be three meals a day, +and she must provide them; servants must be engaged, +trained, directed, and all this she must do. Her +thoughts soared heavenward; but now there was a +string attached to them, and they must be pulled down +to attend to the leg of mutton and the baby's cloak.</p> + +<p>This is one side of the picture; the other is different, +indeed.</p> + +<p>Her girlhood had been shut in by locks and bars of +Calvinistic piety; her friends and family were ready to +laugh, to weep, to pray with her; they were not ready +to think with her. It is true that surrounding this intimate +circle was a wider one, where her mind found +stimulus in certain directions. She studied German +with Dr. Cogswell; she read Dante with Felice Foresti, +the Italian patriot; French, Latin, music, she had them +all. Her mind expanded, but her spiritual growth dates +from her early visits to Boston.</p> + +<p>These visits had not been given wholly to gayety, +even in the days when she wrote, after a ball: "I have +been through the burning, fiery furnace, and it is Sad-rake, +Me-sick, and Abed-no-go!" The friends she +made, both men and women, were people alive and +awake, seeking new light, and finding it on every hand. +Moreover, at her side was now one of the torch-bearers +of humanity, a spirit burning with a clear flame of fervor +and resolve, lighting the dark places of the earth. +Her mind, under the stimulus of these influences,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +opened like a flower; she too became one of the seekers +for light, and in her turn one of the light-bringers.</p> + +<p>Among the poems of her early married life, none +is more illuminating than the portrait of Dr. Howe, +which heads this chapter. The concluding stanza gives +a hint of the depression which accompanied her first +realization of the driving power of his life, of the white-hot +metal of his nature. She was caught up as it were +in the wake of a comet, and whirled into new and +strange orbits: what wonder that for a time she was +bewildered? She had no thought, when writing "The +Rough Sketch," that a later day was to find her soul +indeed matched with his, "in high resolve and hardihood": +that through her lips, as well as his, God was to +sound forth a trumpet that should never call retreat.</p> + +<p>In her normal health she was a person of abounding +vitality, with a constitution of iron: as is common with +such temperaments, she felt a physical distaste to the +abnormal and defective. It required in those days all +the strength of her will to overcome her natural shrinking +from the blind and the other defectives with whom +she was often thrown. There is no clearer evidence of +the development of her nature than the contrast between +this mental attitude and the deep tenderness +which she felt in her later years for the blind. After +the Doctor's death, they became her cherished friends; +she could never do enough for them; with every year +her desire to visit the Perkins Institution, to talk with +the pupils, to give them all she had to give, grew +stronger and more lively.</p> + +<p>Of the friends of this time, none had so deep and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +lasting an influence over her as Theodore Parker, who +had long been a close friend of the Doctor's. She had +first heard of him in her girlhood, as an impious and +sacrilegious person, to be shunned by all good Christians.</p> + +<p>In 1843 she met him in Rome, and found him "one +of the most sympathetic and delightful of men"; an +intimacy sprang up between the two families which +ended only with Parker's life. He baptized the baby +Julia; on returning to this country, she and the Doctor +went regularly to hear him preach. This she always +considered as among the great opportunities of her life.</p> + +<p>"I cannot remember," she says, "that the interest +of his sermons ever varied for me. It was all one intense +delight....It was hard to go out from his presence, +all aglow with the enthusiasm which he felt and +inspired, and to hear him spoken of as a teacher of +irreligion, a pest to the community."</p> + +<p>These were the days when it was possible for a minister +of a Christian church, hearing of Parker's dangerous +illness, to pray that God might remove him from +the earth. To her, it seemed that "truly, he talked +with God, and took us with him into the divine presence."</p> + +<p>Parker could play as well as preach; she loved to +"make fun" with him. Witness her "Philosoph-Master +and Poet-Aster" in "Passion Flowers." Parker's +own powers of merrymaking appear in his Latin epitaph +on "the Doctor" (who survived him by many +years), which is printed in the "Letters and Journals +of Samuel Gridley Howe."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>She used in later years to shake her head as she +recalled a naughty <i>mot</i> of hers apropos of Parker's +preaching: "I would rather," she said, "hear Theodore +Parker preach than go to the theatre; I would rather +go to the theatre than go to a party; I would rather go +to a party than stay at home!"</p> + +<p>A letter to her sister Annie shows the trend of her +religious thought in these days.</p> + + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +Sunday evening, December 8, 1844.</div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">Dear Annie</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>Do not let the Bishop or Uncle or any one frighten +you into any concessions—tell them, and all others +that, even if you agree with them in doctrine, you +think their notion of a religious life narrow, false, superficial. +You owe it to truth, to them, to yourself, +to say so. I think perfect and fearless frankness one +of our highest duties to <i>man</i> as well as to God. Only +see how one half the world pragmatically sets its foot +down, and says to the other half, "Be converted, +my opinion is truth! I must be right and you must +be wrong,"—while the other half timidly falters a reluctant +acquiescence, or scarce audible expression of +doubt, and continues troubled and afraid and discontented +with itself and others. Let me never think of +you as in this ignominious position, dear Annie. Do +not think that I misapprehend you. I know you do +not agree in doctrine with me, but I know too that you +do not feel that you can abandon your life and conscience +to the charge and guidance of such a man as +Eastburn, or as Uncle Ben. Do not, therefore, be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +afraid of them, but let their censure be a very secondary +thing with you—while your life is the true expression +of your faith, whom can you fear? You are +accountable to man for the performance of the duties +which affect his welfare and well-being—for those +which concern your own soul, you are accountable to +God alone. A man, though with twenty surplices on +his back and twenty prayer books in his hand, can no +more condemn than he can save you.... There may +be a hell and a heaven, and it may be good for most +people, for you and me, too, if you choose to think that +it is so. But there is a virtue which rises above such +considerations—there are motives higher than personal +fear or hope—the love of good because it is good, because +it is God's and nature's law, because it is the +secret of the beautiful order of things, because they are +blessed by your virtuous deeds and pure thoughts—because +every holy, every noble deed, word, or thought +helps to build up the ruins of the world, and to elevate +our degraded humanity. Those who propose to you hell +and heaven as the great incentives to right, appeal +merely to your natural love of personal advantage—those +who hold up to you a God now frowning and indignant, +now gracious and benignant, appeal simply +to your natural cowardice, to your natural love of approbation. +Does one love God for one's own advantage? +One loves Him for His perfection, and if one +loves Him, one keeps His commandments. Abandon, +I pray you, the exploded formula of selfishness!... +I think one should be capable of loving virtue, were one +sure even that hell and not heaven would be its reward.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>The benedictions of the Sermon on the Mount are +very simple—no raptures, no ecstasies are promised. +Blessed are all that seek the good of others and the +knowledge of truth—blessed, simply that in so doing +they obey the law of God, imitate His character, and +coming nearer and nearer to Him shall find Him more +and more in their hearts. One word about Unitarians. +It is very wrong to say that they reject the Bible, +simply because they interpret it in a different manner +from the (so-called) orthodox, or that they reject +Christ, because they understand him in one way, and +you in another—while they emulate his wonderful +life, while they acknowledge his divine mission, and +the divine power of his words, why should they be +said to despise him?...</p></blockquote> + + +<p>During the years between 1843 and 1859, her life +was from time to time shadowed by the approach of a +great joy. Before the birth of each successive child +she was oppressed by a deep and persistent melancholy. +Present and future alike seemed dark to her; +she wept for herself, but still more for the hapless +infant which must come to birth in so sorrowful a +world. With the birth of the child the cloud lifted +and vanished. Sunshine and joy—and the baby—filled +the world; the mother sang, laughed, and made +merry.</p> + +<p>In her letters to her sisters, and later in her journals, +both these moods are abundantly evident. At first, +these letters are full of the bustle of arrival and of +settling in the Institution.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>"I received the silver.... The soup-ladle is my delight, +and I could almost take the dear old coffee-pot +to bed with me.... But here is the most important +thing.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">My tragedy is left behind!</span>... My house ... +in great confusion, carpets not down, curtains not up, +the devil to pay, and not a sofa to ask him to sit down +upon...."</p></blockquote> + +<p>She now felt sadly the need of training in matters +which her girlhood had despised. (She could describe +every room in her father's house save one—the +kitchen!) The Doctor liked to give weekly dinners +to his intimates, "The Five of Clubs," and others. +These dinners were something of a nightmare to Julia, +even with the aid of Miss Catherine Beecher's cookbook. +She spent weeks in studying this volume and +trying her hand on its recipes. This was not what +her hand was made for; yet she learned to make puddings, +and was proud of her preserves.</p> + +<p>Speaking of the dinner parties, she tells of one for +which she had taken special pains, and of which ice-cream, +not then the food of every day, was to form +the climax. The ice-cream did not come, and her pleasure +was spoiled; she found it next morning in a snowbank +outside the back door, where the messenger had +"dumped" it without word or comment. "I should +laugh at it now," she says, "but then I almost wept +over it."</p> + +<p>Everything in the new life interested her, even the +most prosaic details. She writes to her sister Louisa:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Our house has been enlivened of late by two delightful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +visits. The first was from the soap-fat merchant, +who gave me thirty-four pounds of good soap for my +grease. I was quite beside myself with joy, capered +about in the most enthusiastic manner, and was going +to hug in turn the soap, the grease, and the man, had +I not remembered my future ambassadress-ship, and +reflected that it would not sound well in history. This +morning came the rag-man, who takes rags and gives +nice tin vessels in exchange.... Both of these were +clever transactions. Oh, if you had seen me stand by +the soap-fat man, and scrutinize minutely his weights +and measures, telling him again and again that it was +beautiful grease, and he must allow me a good price for +it—truly, I am a mother in Israel."</p></blockquote> + + +<p>Much as the Doctor loved the Perkins Institution, +he longed for a home of his own, and in the spring of +1845 he found a place entirely to his mind.</p> + +<p>A few steps from the Institution was a plot of land, +facing the sun, sheltered from the north wind by the +last remaining bit of "Washington Heights," the eminence +on which Washington planted the batteries which +drove the British out of Boston. Some six acres of +fertile ground, an old house with low, broad, sunny +rooms, two towering Balm of Gilead trees, and some +ancient fruit trees: this was all in the beginning; but the +Doctor saw at a glance the possibilities of the place. +He bought it, added one or two rooms to the old house, +planted fruit trees, laid out flower gardens, and in the +summer of 1845 moved his little family thither.</p> + +<p>The move was made on a lovely summer day. As<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +our mother drove into the green bower, half shade, +half sunshine, silent save for the birds, she cried out, +"Oh! this is green peace!" The name fitted and clung: +"<i>Green Peace</i>" was known and loved as such so long +as it existed.</p> + +<p>This was the principal home of her married life, but +it was not precisely an abiding one. The summers were +spent elsewhere; moreover, the "Doctor's Wing" in +the Institution was always ready for habitation, and +it often happened that for one reason or another the +family were taken back there for weeks or months. +Two of the six children, Florence and Maud, were +born at the Institution; the former just before the move +to Green Peace. She was named Florence in honor +of Miss Nightingale. The Doctor had ardently desired +a son; finding the baby a girl, "I will forgive you," he +cried, "if you will name her for Florence Nightingale!" +Miss Nightingale became the child's godmother, sent +a golden cup (now a precious heirloom), and wrote as +follows:—</p> + + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"><span class="smcap">Embley</span>, December 26. +</div> + +<p>I cannot pretend to express, my dear kind friends, +how touched and pleased I was by such a remembrance +of me as that of your child's name.... If I could live +to justify your opinion of me, it would have been +enough to have lived for, and such thoughts, as that +of your goodness, are great thoughts, "strong to consume +small troubles" which should bear us up on the +wings of the Eagle, like Guido's Ganymede, up to the +feet of the God, there to take what work he has for us +to do for him. I shall hope to see my little Florence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +before long in this world, but if not, I trust there is a +tie formed between us, which shall continue in Eternity—if +she is like you, I shall know her again there, +without her body on, perhaps the better for not having +known her here with it.</p></blockquote> + + +<p>Letters to her sisters give glimpses of the life at +Green Peace during the years 1845-50.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Louisa</i></p> + +<blockquote><p>... I assure you it is a delightful but a terrible thing +to be a mother. The constant care, anxiety and thought +of some possible evil that may come to the little creature, +too precious to be so frail, whose life and well-being +the mother feels God has almost placed in her +hands! If I did not think that angels watched over my +baby, I should be crazy about it.</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote><p>My trouble has been Chev's illness.... He was +taken ill the night of his return, and established himself +next morning on the sofa, to be coddled with Cologne, +and dieted with peaches and grapes, when lo, in +an hour more, no coddling save that of (Dr.) Fisher, +no <i>diet</i> save ipecac and werry thin gruel—chills, +nausea, and blue devils. Bradford to watch by night, +Rosy and I by day; Fisher and I sympathizing deeply +in holding the head of a perfectabilian philanthropist. +I making myself active in a variety of ways, +bathing Chev's eyes with cologne water by mistake instead +of his brow, laying the pillow the wrong way, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +being banished at last in disgrace, to make room for +Rosa.</p> + +<p>Am I not the most unfortunate of human beings? +Devil a bit! I enjoy all that I can—have I not milk +for the baby, and the baby for milk? Cannot Julia +make arrowroot pudding and cold custard? Can I not +refresh myself by looking into Romana's sapphire eyes, +with their deep dark fringe? Is there no balm in Gilead, +is there no physician there? Yea, thou, oh Bradford, +art the balm, thou, oh Fisher, art the physician! Food +also is there for cachinnation, that chief duty of man—Quoth +Chev this morning, lifting up his feeble voice +and shaking his dizzy head: "Oh, oh, if I had fallen +sick in New York, and old Francis had bled me, you +would not have seen me again...."</p> + +<p>Florence's name is Florence Marion—pretty, +<i>n'est-ce pas?</i>...</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Farewell, my own darling. Your<br /> +<span class="smcap">Jules</span>.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Well, life <i>am</i> strange! I am again cookless. I imprudently +turned old Smith off and took a young girl, +who left me in four days. Why? Her lover would not +allow her to stay in a family where she did not sit at +table with the lady. I had read of such things in Mrs. +Trollope, and thought them quite impossible. In the +place from which I took her, she had done all the +cooking, washing and chamber work of the house—was, +in fine the only servant, for the compensation of +six dollars a month. But then, she sat at table!!! +oh, ho!</p></blockquote> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">South Boston</span>, April 21, 1845.<br /> +</div> + +<p>... The weather here is so gloomy, that one really<br /> +deserves credit for not hanging oneself!... I passed +last evening with ——. Chev was going to a "'versary," +left me there at about seven, and did not come +for me until after ten. Consequence was, I got heartily +tired of the whole family, and concluded that bright +people without hearts were in the long run less agreeable +than good gentle people without wits—glory on +my soul, likewise also on my baby's soul, which I am!<br /></p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i><a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">South Boston</span>, November, 1845.<br /> +</div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">My darling Wevie</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>The children have been so very obliging as to go +to sleep, and having worried over them all day, and +part of the evening, I will endeavor to give you what +is left of it. When you become the mother of two +children you will understand the value of time as +you never understood it before. My days and nights +are pretty much divided between Julia and Florence. +I sleep with the baby, nurse her all night, get up, +hurry through my breakfast, take care of her while +Emily gets hers, then wash and dress her, put her to +sleep, drag her out in the wagon, amuse Dudie, kiss, +love and scold her, etc., etc.... Oh, my dear Wevie, +for one good squeeze in your loving arms, for one +kiss, and one smile from you, what would I not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +give? Anything, even my box of Paris finery, which +I have just opened, with great edification. Oh, what +headdresses! what silks! what a bonnet, what a mantelet! +I clapped my hands and cried glory for the +space of half an hour, then danced a few Polkas around +the study table, then sat down and felt happy, then +remembered that I had now nothing to do save to grow +old and ugly, and so turned a misanthropic look upon +the Marie Stuart garland, etc., etc. You have certainly +chosen my things with your own perfect taste. The +flowers and dresses are alike exquisite, and so are all +the things, not forgetting Dudie's little darling bonnet. +But I fear that even this beautiful toilette will hardly +tempt me from my nursery fireside where my presence +is, in these days, indispensable. I have not been ten +minutes this whole day, without holding one or other +of the children. I have to sit with Fo-fo on one knee +and Dudie on the other, trotting them alternately, and +singing, "Jim along Josie," till I can't Jim along any +further possibly. Well, life is peculiar anyhow. Dudie +doesn't go alone yet—heaven only knows when she +will. <i>Sunday evening.</i> I wore the new bonnet and mantelet +to church, to-day:—frightened the sexton, made +the minister squint, and the congregation stare. It +looked rather like a green clam shell, some folks thought. +I did not. I cocked it as high as ever I could, but somehow +it did plague me a little. I shall soon get used to +it. Sumner has been dining with us, and he and Chev +have been pitying unmarried women. Oh, my dear +friends, thought I, if you could only have one baby, +you would change your tune.... Heaven grant that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +your dear little child may arrive safely, and gladden +your heart with its sweet face. What a new world will +its birth open to you, an ocean of love unfathomed +even by your loving heart. I cannot tell you the comfort +I have in my little ones, troublesome as they +sometimes are. However weary I may be at night, it +is sweet to feel that I have devoted the day to them. +I am become quite an adept in washing and dressing, +and curl my little Fo-fo's hair beautifully. Tell Donald +that I can even wash out the little crease in her back, +without rubbing the skin off....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Annie</i><a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +1846.<br /> +</div> + +<p>My poor dear little Ante-nuptial, I will write to you, +and I will come to you, though I can do you no good—sentiment +and sympathy I have none, but such insipidity +as I have give I unto thee.... Dear Annie, +your marriage is to me a grave and solemn matter. +I hardly allow myself to think about it. God give you +all happiness, dearest child. Some sufferings and trials +I fear you must have, for after all, the entering into +single combat, hand to hand, with the realities of life, +will be strange and painful to one who has hitherto +lived, enjoyed, and suffered, <i>en l'air</i>, as you have done.... +To be happily married seems to me the best thing +for a woman. Oh! my sweet Annie, may you be happy—your +maidenhood has been pure, sinless, loving, +beautiful—you have no remorses, no anxious thought +about the past. You have lived to make the earth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +more beautiful and bright—may your married life +be as holy and harmless—may it be more complete, +and more acceptable to God than your single life could +possibly have been. Marriage, like death, is a debt we +owe to nature, and though it costs us something to pay +it, yet are we more content and better <i>established</i> in +peace, when we have paid it. A young girl is a loose +flower or flower seed, blown about by the wind, it may +be cruelly battered, may be utterly blighted and lost to +this world, but the matron is the same flower or seed +planted, springing up and bearing fruit unto eternal +life. What a comfort would Wevie now be to you—she +is so much more <i>loving</i> than I, but thee knows I +try. I have been better lately, the quiet nights seem +to speak to me again, and to quicken my dead soul. +What I feel is a premature <i>old age</i>, caused by the strong +passions and conflicts of my early life. It is the languor +and indifference of old age, without its wisdom, +or its well-earned right to repose. Sweetie, wasn't the +bonnet letter hideous? I sent it that you might see +how <i>naughty I could be</i>....</p></blockquote> + +<p>The Doctor's health had been affected by the hardships +and exposures of his service in the Greek Revolution, +and his arduous labors now gave him little time +for rest or recuperation. He was subject to agonizing +headaches, each of which was a brief but distressing +illness. In the summer of 1846 he resolved to try the +water cure, then considered by many a sovereign remedy +for all human ailments, and he and our mother +spent some delightful weeks at Brattleboro, Vermont.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span><i>To her sister Louisa</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +August 4, 1846.</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dearest Wevie</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>... We left dear old Brattleboro on Sunday afternoon, +at five o'clock, serenely packed in our little carriage; +the good old boarding-house woman kissed me, +and presented me with a bundle, containing cake, biscuits, +and whortleberries.... Two calico bags, one big +and one little, contained our baggage for the journey. +Chev and I felt well and happy, the children were good, +the horses went like birds, and showed themselves +horses of good mettle, by carrying us over a distance +of one hundred miles in something less than two days, +for we arrived here at three o'clock to-day, so that the +second 24 hours was not completed. Very pleasant was +our little journey. We started very early each morning, +and went ten or twelve miles to becassim;<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> the +country inns were clean, quiet and funny. We had custards, +pickles, and pies for breakfast, and tea at dinner. +Oh, it was a good time! At Athol, I found a +piano, and sat down to sing negro songs for the children. +A charming audience, comprising cook, ostler, +and waiter, collected around the parlour door, and +encouraged me with a broom and a pitchfork. Well, +it was pleasant to arrive at our dear Green Peace, +or Villa Julia, as they call it. We found everything +in beautiful order, the green corn grown as high as +our heads, and ripe enough to eat, the turkey sitting +on eleven eggs, the peahen on four, six young turkeys +already growing up, and two broods of young chickens. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +Peas, tomatoes, beans, squashes and potatoes, all +flourishing. Our garden entirely supplies us with vegetables, +and we shall have many apples and pears. Immediately +upon my arrival, I found the box and little +parcel from you. You may imagine the pleasure it gave +me to receive, at this distance, things which your tasteful +little fingers had worked.... I am rather ashamed +to see how beautiful your work is, when mine is as +coarse as possible. In truth, I am a clumsy seamstress, +but I make good puddings, and the little things I make +do well enough here in the country.... <i>August 15th.</i> +I have passed eleven quiet and peaceful days since I +got so far with my letter. My chicks have been good, +and my husband well. My household affairs go on +very pleasantly and easily nowadays. My good stout +German girl takes care of the chicks and helps a little +with the chamber work. My little Lizzie does the cooking, +all but the puddings which I always make myself, +so I keep but two house servants. The man takes care +of the horses, drives and keeps the garden in excellent +order. I make my bed and put my room in order as +well as I can. I generally wipe the dishes when Lizzie +has washed them, so you see that I am quite an industrious +flea. I have made very nice raspberry jam and +currant jelly with my own hands.... Felton came to +tea last evening. He was pleasant and bright. He will +be married some time in November. Hillard, too, has +been to see me. Yesterday was made famous by the +purchase of a very beautiful piano of Chickering's +manufacture. The value of it was $450, but the kind +Chick sold it to us at wholesale price. It arrived at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +Green Peace to-day, and has already gladdened the +children's hearts by some gay tunes, the rags of my +antiquated musical repertory. You will be glad, I am +sure, to know that I have one at last, for I have been +many months without any instrument, so that I have +almost forgotten how to touch one.... My mourning +[for a sister-in-law] has been quite an inconvenience +to me, this summer. I had just spent all the money +I could afford for my summer clothes, and was forced +to spend $30 more for black dresses.... The black +clothes, however, seem to me very idle things, and I +shall leave word in my will that no one shall wear them +for me....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Bordentown</span>, August, 1846. +</div> + +<p>... Sumner and Chev came hither with us, and +passed two days and nights here. Chev is well and +good. Sumner is as usual, funny but very good and +kind. Philanthropy goes ahead, and slavery will be +abolished, and so shall we. New York is full of engagements +in which I feel no interest. John Astor and +Augusta Gibbs are engaged, and are, I think, fairly +well matched. One can only say that each is good +enough for the other.</p></blockquote> + +<p>These were the days when Julia sang in her nursery:</p> + +<p> +"Rero, rero, riddlety rad,<br /> +This morning my baby caught sight of her Dad,<br /> +Quoth she, 'Oh, Daddy, where have you been?'<br /> +'With Mann and Sumner a-putting down sin!'"<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span><i>To her sister Annie</i></p> + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature">August 17, 1846.<br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dear darling Annie</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>... After seeing the frugal manner in which country +people live, and after deriving great benefit from hydropathic +diet, Chev and I thought we could get along +with one servant less, and so we have no cook. Lizzie<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> +cooks, I make the pudding, we have no tea, and live +principally upon vegetables from our own garden, hasty +pudding, etc. I make the beds and do the rooms, as +well as I can. We get along quite comfortably, and I +like it very much—the fewer servants one has, the +more comfort, I think.... I have plenty of occupation +for my fingers. My heart will be much taken up +with my babies; as for my soul, that part of me which +thinks and believes and imagines, I shall leave it +alone till the next world, for I see it has little to do +in this....</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Good-bye. Your own, own +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dudie</span>.<br /> +</div></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Louisa</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Boston</span>, December 1, 1846. +</div> + +<p>Dearest old absurdity that you are, am I to write +to you again? Is not my life full enough of business, of +flannel petticoats, aprons, and the wiping of dirty little +noses? Must I sew and trot babies and sing songs, and +tell Mother Goose stories, and still be expected to know +how to write? My fingers are becoming less and less +familiar with the pen, my thoughts grow daily more +insignificant and commonplace. What earthly good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +can my letters do to anyone? What interesting information +can I impart to anyone? Not that I am not happy, +very happy, but then I have quite lost the power of +contributing to the amusement of others....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Annie</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +1845 or 1846. +</div> + +<p>... I visited my Mother Otis<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> on Thursday evening, +and had a pleasant time. I went alone, Chev being +philanthropically engaged—party being over, I called +for him at Mr. Mann's, but they were so happy over +their report that they concluded to make a night of +it, and I came home alone. Chev returned at one, +quite intoxicated with benevolence....</p> + +<p>Finding that the isolation of South Boston was telling +seriously upon her health and spirits, the Doctor +decided on a change, and the winter of 1846 was spent +at the Winthrop House in Boston.</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<div class="signature"> +Monday morning, 1846. +</div> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">My dearest, sweetest Annie</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>... I have neglected you sadly this winter, and my +heart reproaches me for it.... It has been strange to +me, to return to life and to feel that I have any sympathy +with living beings.... I have been singing and +writing poetry, so you may know that I have been +happy. Alas! am I not a selfish creature to prize these +enjoyments as I do, above <i>almost</i> everything else in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +world? God forgive me if I do wrong in following with +ardor the strongest instincts of my nature, but I have +been doing wrong all my life, in some way or other. I +have been giving a succession of little musical parties +on Saturday evenings, and I assure you they have been +quite successful. I have to be sure only my little parlour +in the Winthrop House, but even that is larger +than the grand saloon at S. Niccolo da Tolentino +which managed to hold so much fun on Friday evenings. +I have found some musical friends to sing with +me—Lizzie Cary, Mrs. Felton, Mr. Pelosos and William +Story, of whom more anon.... Agassiz, the +learned and charming Frenchman, is also one of my +<i>habitués</i> on Saturday evenings, and Count Pourtalés, a +Swiss nobleman of good family, who has accompanied +Agassiz to this country! I illuminate my room with a +chandelier and some candles, draw out the piano into +the room, and order some ice from Mrs. Mayer's—so +that the reception gives me very little trouble. My +friends come at half-past eight and stay until eleven. +I do not usually have more than twenty people, but +once I have had nearly sixty, and those of the best +people in Boston. Chev is very desirous of having a +house in town, and is far more pleased with my success +than I am. My next party will be on the coming +Saturday. It is for Lizzie Rice and Sam Guild +who are just married. Am I not an enterprising little +woman?... Dear Annie, I am anxious to be with +you, that I may really know how you are, and talk +over all the little matters with you.... I always feel +that this suffering must be some expiation for all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +follies of one's life, whereupon I will improvise a couplet +upon the subject.</p> + +<p> +Woman, being of all critters the darn'dest,<br /> +Is made to suffer the consarn'dest.<br /> +</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Louisa</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +May 17, 1847.</div> +<p><span class="smcap">My sweetest beautifullest Wevie</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>... I have not written because I have been in a studious, +meditative, and most uncommunicative frame of +mind, and have very few words to throw at many dogs. +It is quite delightful to take to study again, and to feel +that old and stupid as one may be, there is still in one's +mind a little power of improvement.... The longer I +live the more do I feel my utter childlike helplessness +about all practical affairs. Certainly a creature with +such useless hands was never before seen. I seem to need +a dry nurse quite as much as my children. What useful +thing can I possibly teach these poor little monkeys? +For everything that is not soul I am an ass, that I am. +I have now been at Green Peace some six weeks, and it +is very pleasant and quiet, but oh! the season is so backward; +it is the 17th of May, and the trees are only beginning +to blossom. Every day comes a cold east wind +to nip off my nose, and the devil a bit of anything else +comes to Green Peace. I am thin and languid. I have +never entirely recovered from my fever,<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> but my mind +is clearer than it has ever been since my marriage. I +am able to think, to study and to pray, things which I +cannot accomplish when my brain is oppressed....</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>Boston has been greatly enlivened during the past +month by a really fine opera, the troupe from Havana, +much better than the N. Y. troupe, with a fine orchestra +and chorus, all Italians. The Prima Donna is an +artist of the first order, and has an exquisite voice. I +have had season tickets, and have been nearly every +night. This is a great indulgence, as it is very expensive, +and I have one of the best boxes in the house, but +Chev is the most indulgent of husbands. I never knew +anything like it. Think of all he allows me, a house +and garden, a delicious carriage and pair of horses, etc., +etc., etc. My children are coming on famously. Julia, +or as she calls herself, Romana, is really a fine creature, +full of sensibility and of talent. She learns very readily, +and reasons about things with great gravity. She +remembers every tune that she hears, and can sing a +great many songs. She is very full of fun, and so is my +sweet Flossy, my little flaxen-haired wax doll. I play +for them on the piano, Lizzie beats the tambourine, +and the two babies take hold of hands and dance. "Is +not your heart fully satisfied with such a sight?" you +will ask me. I reply, dear Wevie, that the soul whose +desires are not fixed upon the unattainable is dead +even while it liveth, and that I am glad, in the midst of +all my comforts, to feel myself still a pilgrim in pursuit +of something that is neither house nor lands, nor children, +nor health. What that something is I scarce +know. Sometimes it seems to me one thing and sometimes +another. Oh, immortality, thou art to us but a +painful rapture, an ecstatic burthen in this earthly life. +God teach me to bear thee until thou shalt bear me!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +The arms of the cross will one day turn into angels' +wings, and lift us up to heaven. Don't think from this +rhapsody that I am undergoing a fit of pietistic exaltation. +I am not, but as I grow older, many things +become clearer to me, and I feel at once the difficulty +and the necessity of holding fast to one's soul and to +its divine relationships, lest the world should cheat us +of it utterly.</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Annie</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +June 19 [1847], <span class="smcap">Green Peace</span>.</div> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">My dearest little Annie</span>,— +</p> + +<p>... Boston has been in great excitement at the +public debates of the Prison Discipline Society, which +have been intensely interesting. Chev and Sumner +have each spoken twice, in behalf of the Philadelphia +system, and against the course of the Society. They +have been furiously attacked by the opposite party. +Chev's second speech drew tears from many eyes, and +was very beautiful. Both of Sumner's have been fine, +but the last, delivered last evening, was <i>masterly</i>. I +never listened to anything with more intense interest,—he +held the audience breathless for two hours +and a half. I have attended all the debates save one—there +have been seven.</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Louisa</i></p> + + +<div class="signature2">July 1, 1847. +</div> + +<blockquote><p> +<span class="smcap">My dearest old Wevie</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>I should have written you yesterday but that I was +obliged to entertain the whole Club<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> at dinner, prior<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +to Hillard's departure. I gave them a neat little dinner, +soup, salmon, sweetbreads, roast lamb and pigeon, +with green peas, potatoes <i>au maitre d'hotel</i>, spinach +and salad. Then came a delicious pudding and blanc-mange, +then strawberries, pineapple, and ice-cream, +then coffee, etc. We had a pleasant time upon the +whole. That is, they had; for myself it is easy to find +companions more congenial than the Club. Still, I like +them very well. I had last week a little meeting of +the <i>mutual correction</i> club, which was far pleasanter to +me. This society is organized as follows: Julia Howe, +grand universal philosopher; Jane Belknap, charitable +censor; Mary Ward, moderator; Sarah Hale, optimist. +I had them all to dinner and we were jolly, I do assure +you. My children looked so lovely yesterday, in muslin +dresses of bright pink plaid, made very full and reaching +only to the knee, with pink ribbands in their +sleeves....</p> + +<p>How I do wish for you this summer. My little place +is so green, my flowers so sweet, my strawberries so +delicious—the garden produces six quarts or more a +day. The cow gives delicious cream. I even make a +sort of cream cheese which is not by any means to be +despised. Do you eat <i>ricotta</i> nowadays? Chev gave me +a little French dessert set yesterday, which made my +table look so pretty. White with very rich blue and +gold. Oh, but it was bunkum! Dear old Wevie, you +must give me one summer, and then I will give you a +winter—isn't that fair? Chev promises to take me +abroad in five years, if we should sell Green Peace well. +They talk of moving the Institution, in which case<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +I should have to leave my pretty Green Peace in two +years more, but I should be sad to leave it, for it is very +lovely. I don't know any news at all to communicate. +The President<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> has just made a visit here; he was +coolly but civilly received. His whole course has been +very unpopular in Massachusetts, and nobody wanted +to see the man who had brought this cursed Mexican +War upon us. He was received by the Mayor with a +brief but polite address, lodgings were provided for him, +and a dinner given him by the city. But there was no +crowd to welcome him, no shouts, no waving of handkerchiefs. +The people quietly looked at him and said, +"This is our chief magistrate, is it? Well, he is <i>très peu +de chose</i>." I of course did not trouble myself to go and +see him....I send you an extract from a daily paper. +Can you tell me who is the authoress? It has been +much admired. Uncle John was very much tickled to +see <i>somebody</i> in print. Try it again, Blue Jacket.</p></blockquote> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The wayward moods shown in these letters sometimes +found other expression. In those days her wit +was wayward too: its arrows were always winged, and +sometimes over-sharp. In later life, when Boston and +everything connected with it was unspeakably dear to +her, she would not recall the day when, passing on +Charles Street the Charitable Eye and Ear Infirmary, +she read the name aloud and exclaimed, "Oh! I did +not know there was a charitable eye or ear in Boston!" +Or that other day, when having dined with the Ticknors, +a family of monumental dignity, she said to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +friend afterward, "Oh! I am so cold! I have been dining +with the <i>Tête Noir</i>, the <i>Mer(e) de Glace</i>, and the +<i>Jungfrau</i>!"</p> + +<p>It may have been in these days that an incident occurred +which she thus describes in "A Plea for Humour": +"I once wrote to an intimate friend a very +high-flown and ridiculous letter of reproof for her frivolity. +I presently heard of her as ill in bed, in consequence +of my unkindness. I immediately wrote, 'Did +not you see that the whole thing was intended to be a +burlesque?' After a while she wrote back, 'I am just +beginning to see the fun of it, but the next time you +intend to make a joke, pray give me a fortnight's +notice.' It was now my turn to take to my bed."</p> + +<p>In September, 1847, a heavy sorrow came to her in +the death of her brother Marion, "a gallant, gracious +boy, a true, upright and useful man." She writes to +her sister Louisa: "Let us thank Him that Marion's +life gave us as much joy as his death has given us pain.... +Our children will grow up in love and beauty, +and one of us will have a sweet boy who shall bear +the dear name of Marion and make it doubly dear +to us."</p> + +<p>This prophecy was fulfilled first by the birth, on +March 2, 1848, of Henry Marion Howe (named for +the two lost brothers), and again in 1854 by that of +Francis Marion Crawford.</p> + +<p>The winter of 1847-48 was also spent in Boston, at +No. 74 Mount Vernon Street; here the first son was +born. The Doctor, recording his birth in the Family +Bible, wrote after the name, "<i>Dieu donné!</i>" And, his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +mind full of the Revolution of 1848 in France, added, +"<i>Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité!</i>"</p> + +<p>On April 18 she writes: "My boy will be seven weeks +old to-morrow, and ... such a darling little child was +never seen in this world before.... I shall have some +fears lest his temperament partake of the melancholy +which oppressed me during the period of his <i>creation</i>, +but so far he is so placid and gentle, that we call him the +little saint.... I have seen little of the world since his +birth, and thought still less. I shall try to pursue my +studies as I have through this last year, for I am good +for nothing without them. I will rather give up the +world and cut out Beacon Street, but an hour or two +for the cultivation of my poor little soul I must and +will have...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Annie</i></p> + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"> +[1848.] +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dearest Annie</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>... My literary reputation is growing apace. Mr. +Buchanan Read has written to me from Philadelphia +to beg some poetry for a book he is about to publish, +and I am going to hunt up some trash for him in the +course of the week. I find that my name has been advertised +in relation to Griswold's book<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a>—people come +to ask Chev if <i>that</i> Mrs. Howe is his wife. I feel as if +I should make a horribly shabby appearance. Do tell +me if Griswold liked the poems....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"> +Sunday, December 15, 1849.<br /> +</div> + +<p>... I do want to see you, best Annie, and to have a +few long talks with you about theology, the soul, the +heart, life, matrimony, and the points of resemblance +between the patriarch Noah and Sir Tipsy Squinteye. +Those talks, madam, are not to be had, so instead of +the rich <i>crême fouettée</i> of our conversation, we will take +an insipid water-ice of a letter together, the two spoons +being ourselves, the sugar, ice and lemon representing +our three husbands, all mixed up together, the whole +to be considered good when one can't get anything +better. I will be hanged, however, if you shall make +me say which is which.</p> + +<p>I pass my life after a singular manner, Annie. I am +in the old room, in the old house, even in the old dressing-gown, +which is of some value, inasmuch as it furnishes +my <i>rent</i>. I am in the old place, but the old Dudie +is not in me; in her stead is a spirit of crossness and +dullness, insensible to all the gentler influences of life, +knowing no music, poetry, wit, or devotion, intent +mainly upon holding on to the ropes, and upon getting +through the present without too much consciousness of +it.... All society has been paralyzed by the shocking +murder of Dr. Parkman. There has perhaps never been +in Boston so horrible and atrocious an affair. The +details of the crime are too heart-sickening to be dwelt +upon. There can scarcely be a doubt of the guilt of +Dr. Webster—the jury of inquest have returned a +verdict of guilty, but he has still a chance for his life, +as his trial in court does not come on for some months.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +The wisest people say that he will be convicted and +hanged. I saw Dr. Parkman two or three days before +he was missing—he was an old friend of Chev's.... +I have not been able to see much company, yet we +have had a few pleasant people at the house, now and +then. Among these, a Mr. Twisleton, brother of Lord +Saye and Sele, the most agreeable John Bull I have +seen this many a day, or indeed ever....</p></blockquote> + + +<p>The winter of 1849-50 was also spent at No. 74 +Mount Vernon Street. Here, in February, 1850, a third +daughter was born, and named Laura for Laura Bridgman. +In the spring, our parents made a second voyage +to Europe, taking with them the two youngest children, +Julia Romana and Florence being left in the +household of Dr. Edward Jarvis.</p> + +<p>They spent some weeks in England, renewing the +friendships made seven years before; thence they journeyed +to Paris, and from there to Boppart, where the +Doctor took the water cure. Julia seems to have been +too busy for letter-writing during this year; the Doctor +writes to Charles Sumner of the beauty of Boppart, +and adds: "Julia and I have been enjoying walks upon +the banks of the Rhine, and rambles upon the hillside, +and musings among the ruins, and jaunts upon the +waters as we have enjoyed nothing since we left +home."</p> + +<p>He had but six months' leave of absence; it was felt +by both that Julia needed a longer time of rest and +refreshment; accordingly when he returned she, with +the two little children, joined her sisters, both now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +married, and the three proceeded to Rome, where they +spent the winter.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crawford was living at Villa Negroni, where +Mrs. Mailliard became her companion; Julia found a +comfortable apartment in Via Capo le Case, with the +Edward Freemans on the floor above, and Mrs. David +Dudley Field on that below.</p> + +<p>These were pleasant neighbors. Mrs. Freeman was +Julia's companion in many delightful walks and excursions; +when Mrs. Field had a party, she borrowed Mrs. +Howe's large lamp, and was ready to lend her tea-cups +in return. There was a Christmas tree—the first +ever seen in Rome!—at Villa Negroni; "an occasional +ball, a box at the opera, a drive on the Campagna."</p> + +<p>Julia found a learned Rabbi from the Ghetto, and +resumed the study of Hebrew, which she had begun +the year before in South Boston. This accomplished +man was obliged to wear the distinctive dress then +imposed upon the Jews of Rome, and to be within the +walls of the Ghetto by six in the evening. There were +private theatricals, too, she appearing as "Tilburina" +in "The Critic."</p> + +<p>Among the friends of this Roman winter none was +so beloved as Horace Binney Wallace. He was a Philadelphian, +a <i>rosso</i>. He held that "the highest effort of +nature is to produce a <i>rosso</i>"; he was always in search +of the favored tint either in pictures or in living beings. +Together the two <i>rossi</i> explored the ancient city, with +mutual pleasure and profit.</p> + +<p>Some years later, on hearing of his death, she recalled +these days of companionship in a poem called<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +"Via Felice,"<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> which she sang to an air of her own +composition. The poem appeared in "Words for the +Hour," and is one of the tenderest of her personal +tributes:—</p> + +<p> +For Death's eternal city<br /> +Has yet some happy street;<br /> +'Tis in the Via Felice<br /> +My friend and I shall meet.<br /> +</p> + +<p>In the summer of 1851 she turned her face westward. +The call of husband, children, home, was imperative; +yet so deep was the spell which Rome had laid upon +her that the parting was fraught with "pain, amounting +almost to anguish." She was oppressed by the +thought that she might never again see all that had +grown so dear. Looking back upon this time, she says, +"I have indeed seen Rome and its wonders more than +once since that time, but never as I saw them then."</p> + +<p>The homeward voyage was made in a sailing-vessel, +in company with Mr. and Mrs. Mailliard. They were +a month at sea. In the long quiet mornings Julia read +Swedenborg's "Divine Love and Wisdom"; in the +afternoons Eugène Sue's "<i>Mystères de Paris</i>," borrowed +from a steerage passenger. There was whist in +the evening; when her companions had gone to rest +she would sit alone, thinking over the six months, +weaving into song their pleasures and their pains. The +actual record of this second Roman winter is found in +"Passion Flowers."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>"PASSION FLOWERS"</h3> + +<h4>1852-1858; <i>aet.</i> 33-39</h4> + +<p>ROUGE GAGNE</p> + +<p> +The wheel is turned, the cards are laid;<br /> +The circle's drawn, the bets are made:<br /> +I stake my gold upon the red.<br /> +<br /> +The rubies of the bosom mine,<br /> +The river of life, so swift divine,<br /> +In red all radiantly shine.<br /> +<br /> +Upon the cards, like gouts of blood,<br /> +Lie dinted hearts, and diamonds good,<br /> +The red for faith and hardihood.<br /> +<br /> +In red the sacred blushes start<br /> +On errand from a virgin heart,<br /> +To win its glorious counterpart.<br /> +<br /> +The rose that makes the summer fair,<br /> +The velvet robe that sovereigns wear,<br /> +The red revealment could not spare.<br /> +<br /> +And men who conquer deadly odds<br /> +By fields of ice, and raging floods,<br /> +Take the red passion from the gods.<br /> +<br /> +Now, Love is red, and Wisdom pale,<br /> +But human hearts are faint and frail<br /> +Till Love meets Love, and bids it hail.<br /> +<br /> +I see the chasm, yawning dread;<br /> +I see the flaming arch o'erhead:<br /> +I stake my life upon the red. +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span></p> + +<p><br />We have seen that from her earliest childhood +Julia Ward's need of expressing herself in verse was +imperative. Every emotion, deep or trivial, must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +take metrical shape; she laughed, wept, prayed—even +stormed, in verse.</p> + +<p>Walking with her one day, her sister Annie, always +half angel, half sprite, pointed to an object in the +road. "Dudie dear," she said; "squashed frog! little +verse, dear?"</p> + +<p>We may laugh with the two sisters, but under the +laughter lies a deep sense of the poet's nature.</p> + +<p>As in her dreamy girlhood she prayed—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Oh! give me back my golden lyre!"—</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>so in later life she was to pray—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"On the Matron's time-worn mantle</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Let the Poet's wreath be laid."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The tide of song had been checked for a time; after +the second visit to Rome, it flowed more freely than +ever. By the winter of 1853-54, a volume was ready +(the poems chosen and arranged with the help of +James T. Fields), and was published by Ticknor and +Fields under the title of "Passion Flowers."</p> + +<p>No name appeared on the title-page; she had +thought to keep her <i>incognito</i>, but she was recognized +at once as the author, and the book became the literary +sensation of the hour. It passed rapidly through +three editions; was, she says, "much praised, much +blamed, and much called in question."</p> + +<p>She writes to her sister Annie:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The history of all these days, beloved, is comprised +in one phrase, the miseries of proof-reading. Oh, the +endless, endless plague of looking over these proof-sheets—the +doubts about phrases, rhymes, and expressions,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +the perplexity of names, especially, in which I +have not been fortunate. To-morrow I get my last +proof. Then a fortnight must be allowed for drying +and binding. Then I shall be out, fairly out, do you +hear? So far my secret has been pretty well kept. +My book is to bear a simple title without my name, +according to Longfellow's advice. Longfellow has +been reading a part of the volume in sheets. He says +it will make a sensation.... I feel much excited, +quite unsettled, sometimes a little frantic. If I succeed, +I feel that I shall be humbled by my happiness, +devoutly thankful to God. Now, I will not write any +more about it."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The warmest praise came from the poets,—the +"high, impassioned few" of her "Salutatory." Whittier +wrote:—</p> + +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Amesbury</span>, 29th, 12 mo. 53. +</div> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">My dear Fr'd</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>A thousand thanks for thy volume! I rec'd it some +days ago, but was too ill to read it. I glanced at +"Rome," "Newport and Rome," and they excited me +like a war-trumpet. To-day, with the wild storm drifting +without, my sister and I have been busy with thy +book, and basking in the warm atmosphere of its +flowers of passion. It is a great book—it has placed +thee at the head of us all. I like its noble aims, its +scorn and hate of priestcraft and Slavery. It speaks +out bravely, beautifully all I have <i>felt</i>, but could not +express, when contemplating the condition of Europe. +God bless thee for it!</p> + +<p>I owe an apology to Dr. Howe, if not to thyself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +for putting into verse<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> an incident of his early life +which a friend related to me. When I saw his name +connected with it, in some of the papers that copied +it, I felt fearful that I had wounded, perhaps, the +feelings of one I love and honor beyond almost any +other man, by the liberty I have taken. I can only say +I could not well help it—a sort of necessity was +before me, to say what I did.</p> + +<p>I wish I <i>could</i> tell thee how glad thy volume has +made me. I have marked it all over with notes of +admiration. I dare say it has faults enough, but thee +need not fear on that account. It has beauty enough +to save thy "slender neck" from the axe of the critical +headsman. The veriest "de'il"—as Burns says—"wad +look into thy face and swear he could na +wrang thee."</p> + +<p>With love to the Doctor and thy lovely little folk,</p> + +<p> +I am</p> + +<div class="signature">Very sincerely thy friend,<br /> +<span class="smcap">John G. Whittier</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p>Emerson wrote:—</p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Concord, Mass.</span>, 30 Dec., 1853. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mrs. Howe</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>I am just leaving home with much ado of happy +preparation for an absence of five weeks, but must +take a few moments to thank you for the happiness +your gift brings me. It was very kind in you to send +it to me, who have forfeited all apparent claims to +such favor, by breaking all the laws of good neighborhood +in these years. But you were entirely right in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +sending it, because, I fancy, that among all your +friends, few had so earnest a desire to know your +thoughts, and, I may say, so much regret at never +seeing you, as I. And the book, as I read in it, meets +this curiosity of mine, by its poems of character and +confidence, private lyrics, whose air and words [are] +all your own. I have not gone so far in them as to +have any criticism to offer you, and like better the +pure pleasure I find in a new book of poetry so warm +with life. Perhaps, when I have finished the book, I +shall ask the privilege of saying something further. +At present I content myself with thanking you.</p> + +<div class="signature2">With great regard,</div> +<div class="signature"><span class="smcap">R. W. Emerson</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p>Oliver Wendell Holmes, always generous in his welcome +to younger writers, sent the following poem, +never before printed:—</p> + +<p> +If I were one, O Minstrel wild.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That held "the golden cup"</span><br /> +Not unto thee, Art's stolen child,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My hand should yield it up;</span><br /> +<br /> +Why should I waste its gold on one<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That holds a guerdon bright—</span><br /> +A chalice, flashing in the sun<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of perfect chrysolite.</span><br /> +<br /> +And shaped on such a swelling sphere<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As if some God had pressed</span><br /> +Its flowing crystal, soft and clear<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On Hebe's virgin breast?</span><br /> +<br /> +What though the bitter grapes of earth<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have mingled in its wine?</span><br /> +The stolen fruits of heavenly birth<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have made its hue divine.</span><br /> +<br /> +Oh, Lady, there are charms that win<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their way to magic bowers,</span><br /> +And they that weave them enter in<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In spite of mortal powers;</span><br /> +<br /> +And hearts that seek the chapel's floor<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Will throb the long aisle through,</span><br /> +Though none are waiting at the door<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To sprinkle holy dew!</span><br /> +<br /> +I, sitting in the portal gray<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of Art's cathedral dim,</span><br /> +Can see thee, passing in to pray<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And sing thy first-born hymn;—</span><br /> +<br /> +Hold out thy hand! these scanty drops<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come from a hallowed stream,</span><br /> +Its sands, a poet's crumbling hopes,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Its mists, his fading dream.</span><br /> +<br /> +Pass on. Around the inmost shrine<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A few faint tapers burn;</span><br /> +This altar, Priestess, shall be thine<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To light and watch in turn;</span><br /> +<br /> +Above it smiles the Mother Maid,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It leans on Love and Art,</span><br /> +And in its glowing depth is laid<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The first true woman's heart!</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">O. W. H.</span><br /> + +<span class="smcap">Boston</span>, Jan. 1, 1854. +</p> + +<p>This tribute from the beloved Autocrat touched her +deeply, the more so that in the "Commonwealth"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span><a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> +she had recently reviewed some of his own work rather +severely. She made her acknowledgment in a poem +entitled "A Vision of Montgomery Place,"<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> in which +she pictures herself as a sheeted penitent knocking at +Dr. Holmes's door.</p> + +<p> +I was the saucy Commonwealth:<br /> +Oh! help me to repent.<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * + +<br /> +Behind my embrasure well-braced,<br /> +With every chance to hit,<br /> +I made your banner, waving wide,<br /> +A mark for wayward wit.<br /> +<br /> +'Twas now my turn to walk the street,<br /> +In dangerous singleness,<br /> +And run, as bravely as I might,<br /> +The gauntlet of the press.<br /> +<br /> +And when I passed your balcony<br /> +Expecting only blows,<br /> +From height or vantage-ground, you stooped<br /> +To whelm me with a rose.<br /> +<br /> +A rose, intense with crimson life<br /> +And hidden perfume sweet—<br /> +Call out your friends, and see me do<br /> +My penance in the street.<br /><br /> + + +* * * +* * * +</p> + +<p><br />She writes her sister Annie:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"My book came out, darling, on Friday last. You +have it, I hope, ere this time. The simple title, 'Passion +Flowers,' was invented by Scherb<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> and approved +by Longfellow. Its success became certain at once. +Hundreds of copies have already been sold, and every +one likes it. Fields foretells a second edition—it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +sure to pay for itself. It has done more for me, in +point of consideration here, than a fortune of a hundred +thousand dollars. Parker quoted some of my +verses in his Christmas sermon, and this I considered +as the greatest of honors. I sat there and heard them, +glowing all over. The authorship is, of course, no +secret now...."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Speaking of the volume long after, she says, "It +was a timid performance upon a slender reed."</p> + +<p>Three years later a second volume of verse was +published by Ticknor and Fields under the title of +"Words for the Hour." Of this, George William Curtis +wrote, "It is a better book than its predecessor, +but will probably not meet with the same success."</p> + +<p>She had written plays ever since she was nine years +old. In 1857, the same year which saw the publication +of "Words for the Hour," she produced her first +serious dramatic work, a five-act drama entitled +"The World's Own." It was performed in New York +at Wallack's Theatre, and in Boston with Matilda +Heron and the elder Sothern in the leading parts. +She notes that one critic pronounced the play "full +of literary merits and of dramatic defects"; and she +adds, "It did not, as they say, 'keep the stage.'"</p> + +<p>Yet her brother Sam writes to her from New York: +"Lenore still draws the best houses; there was hardly +standing room on Friday night"; and again: "Mr. +Russell went last night, a second time, bought the +libretto, which I send you by this mail—declares +that there is not a grander play in our language. He +says that it is full of dramatic vigor, that the interest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +never flags—but that unhappily Miss H., with the +soul and self-abandonment of a great actress, lacks +those graces of elocution, which should set forth the +beauties of your verses."</p> + +<p>Some of the critics blamed the author severely for +her choice of a subject—the betrayal and abandonment +of an innocent girl by a villain; they thought it +unfeminine, not to say indelicate, for a woman to +write of such matters.</p> + +<p>At that time nothing could be farther from her +thoughts than to be classed with the advocates of +Women's Rights as they then appeared; yet in "The +World's Own" are passages which show that already +her heart cherished the high ideal of her sex, for which +her later voice was to be uplifted:—</p> + +<p> +I think we call them Women, who uphold<br /> +Faint hearts and strong, with angel countenance;<br /> +Who stand for all that's high in Faith's resolve,<br /> +Or great in Hope's first promise.<br /><br /> + +* * * +* * * +<br /> +Ev'n the frail creature with a moment's bloom,<br /> +That pays your pleasure with her sacrifice,<br /> +And, having first a marketable price,<br /> +Grows thenceforth valueless,—ev'n such an one,<br /> +Lifted a little from the mire, and purged<br /> +By hands severely kind, will give to view<br /> +The germ of all we honor, in the form<br /> +Of all that we abhor. You fling a jewel<br /> +Where wild feet tramp, and crushing wheels go by;<br /> +You cannot tread the splendor from its dust;<br /> +So, in the shattered relics, shimmers yet<br /> +Through tears and grime, the pride of womanhood.<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * +</p> + +<p>We must not forget the Comic Muse. Comparatively<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +little of her humorous verse is preserved; she seldom +thought it important enough to make two copies, and +the first draft was often lost or given away. The +following was written in the fifties, when Wulf Fries +was a young and much-admired musician in Boston. +Miss Mary Bigelow had invited her to her house "at +nine o'clock" to hear him play, meaning nine in the +morning. She took this for nine in the evening; the +rest explains itself:—</p> + +<p> +Miss Mary Big'low, you who seem<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">So debonair and kind,</span><br /> +Pray, what the devil do you mean<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(If I may speak my mind)</span><br /> +<br /> +By asking me to come and hear<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That Wulf of yours a-Friesing,</span><br /> +Then leaving me to cool my heels<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In manner so unpleasing?</span><br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> +<br /> +With Mrs. Dr. Susan you<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That eve, forsooth, were tea-ing:</span><br /> +Confess you knew that I should come,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And from my wrath were fleeing!</span><br /> +<br /> +To Mrs. Dr. Susan's I<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Had not invited been:</span><br /> +So when the maid said, "Best go there!"<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I answered, "Not so green!"</span><br /> +<br /> +Within the darksome carriage hid<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I bottled up my beauty,</span><br /> +And, rather foolish, hurried home<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To fireside and duty.</span><br /> +<br /> +It's very pleasant, <i>you</i> may think,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">On winter nights to roam;</span><br /> +But when you next invite abroad,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>This</i> wolf will freeze at home!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>While she was pouring out her heart in poem and +play, and the Doctor was riding the errands of the +hour and binding up the wounds of Humanity, what, +it may be asked,—it <i>was</i> asked by anxious friends,—was +becoming of the little Howes? Why, the little +Howes (there were now five, Maud having been born +in November, 1854) were having perhaps the most +wonderful childhood that ever children had. Spite of +the occasional winters spent in town, our memories +centre round Green Peace;—there Paradise blossomed +for us. Climbing the cherry trees, picnicking +on the terrace behind the house, playing in the bowling-alley, +tumbling into the fishpond,—we see ourselves +here and there, always merry, always vigorous and +robust. We were also studying, sometimes at school, +sometimes with our mother, who gave us the earliest +lessons in French and music; more often, in those +years, under various masters and governesses. The +former were apt to be political exiles, the Doctor always +having many such on hand, some learned, all +impecunious, all seeking employment. We recall a +Pole, a Dane, two Germans, one Frenchman. The +last, poor man, was married to a Smyrniote woman +with a bad temper; neither spoke the other's language, +and when they quarrelled they came to the Doctor, +demanding his services as interpreter.</p> + +<p>Through successive additions, the house had grown +to a goodly size; the new part, with large, high-studded +rooms, towering above the ancient farmhouse, which +nevertheless seemed always the heart of the place. Between +the two was a conservatory, a posy of all sweet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +flowers: the large greenhouse was down in the garden, +under the same roof as the bowling-alley.</p> + +<p>The pears and peaches and strawberries of Green +Peace were like no others that ever ripened; we see +ourselves tagging at our father's heels, watching his +pruning and grafting with an absorption equalling +his own, learning from him that there must be honor +in gardens as elsewhere, and that fruit taken from +his hand was sweet, while stolen fruit would be +bitter.</p> + +<p>We see ourselves gathered in the great dining-room, +where the grand piano was, and the Gobelin carpet +with the strange beasts and fishes, bought at the sale +of the ex-King Joseph Bonaparte's furniture at Bordentown, +and the Snyders' Boar Hunt, which one of +us could never pass without a shiver; see ourselves +dancing to our mother's playing,—wonderful dances, +invented by Flossy, who was always <i>première danseuse</i>, +and whose "Lady Macbeth" dagger dance was a thing +to remember.</p> + +<p>Then perhaps the door would open, and in would +come "Papa" as a bear, in his fur overcoat, growling +horribly, and chase the dancers into corners, they +shrieking terrified delight.</p> + +<p>Again, we see ourselves clustered round the piano +while our mother sang to us; songs of all nations, from +the Polish drinking-songs that Uncle Sam had learned +in his student days in Germany, down to the Negro +melodies which were very near our hearts.</p> + +<p>Best of all, however, we loved her own songs: cradle-songs +and nursery nonsense made for our very selves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>—</p> + +<p> +"(Sleep, my little child.<br /> +So gentle, sweet and mild!<br /> +The little lamb has gone to rest,<br /> +The little bird is in its nest,—"<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Put in the donkey!" cries Laura. The golden voice +goes on without a pause—</p> + +<p> +"The little donkey in the stable<br /> +Sleeps as sound as he is able;<br /> +All things now their rest pursue,<br /> +You are sleepy too!)"<br /> +</p> + +<p>Again, she would sing passionate songs of love or battle, +or hymns of lofty faith and aspiration. One and +all, we listened eagerly; one and all, we too began to +see visions and dream dreams.</p> + +<p>Now and then, the Muse and Humanity had to +stand aside and wait while the children had a party; +such a party as no other children ever had. What +wonder, when both parents turned the full current +of their power into this channel?</p> + +<p>Our mother writes of one such festival:—</p> + +<p>"My guests arrived in omnibus loads at four o'clock. +My notes to parents concluded with the following P.S.: +'Return-omnibus provided, with insurance against +plum-cake and other accidents.' A donkey carriage +afforded great amusement out of doors, together with +swing, bowling-alley, and the Great Junk. While all +this was going on, the H.'s, J. S., and I prepared a +theatrical exhibition, of which I had made a hasty +outline. It was the story of 'Blue Beard.' We had curtains +which drew back and forth, and regular footlights. +You can't think how good it was! There were +four scenes. My antique cabinet was the 'Blue Beard'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +cabinet; we yelled in delightful chorus when the door +was opened, and the children stretched their necks to +the last degree to see the horrible sight. The curtain +closed upon a fainting-fit done by four women. In the +third scene we were scrubbing the fatal key, when I +cried out, 'Try the "Mustang Liniment"! It's the +liniment for us, for you know we <i>must hang</i> if we don't +succeed!' This, which was made on the spur of the +moment, overcame the whole audience with laughter, +and I myself shook so that I had to go down into the +tub in which we were scrubbing the key. Well, to make +a long story short, our play was very successful, and +immediately afterward came supper. There were four +long tables for the children; twenty sat at each. Ice-cream, +cake, blanc-mange, and delicious sugar-plums, +oranges, etc., were served up 'in style.' We had our +supper a little later. Three omnibus loads went from +my door; the last—the grown people—at nine +o'clock."</p> + +<p>And again:—</p> + +<p>"I have written a play for our doll-theatre, and +performed it yesterday afternoon with great success. +It occupied nearly an hour. I had alternately to grunt +and squeak the parts, while Chev played the puppets. +The effect was really extremely good. The spectators +were in a dark room, and the little theatre, lighted by +a lamp from the top, looked very pretty."</p> + +<p>It was one of these parties of which the Doctor wrote +to Charles Sumner: "Altogether it was a good affair, +a religious affair; I say religious, for there is nothing +which so calls forth my love and gratitude to God as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +the sight of the happiness for which He has given the +capacity and furnished the means; and this happiness +is nowhere more striking than in the frolics of the +young."</p> + +<p>Among the plays given at Green Peace were the +"Three Bears," the Doctor appearing as the Great +Big Huge Bear; and the "Rose and the Ring," in +which he played Kutasoff Hedzoff and our mother +Countess Gruffanuff, while John A. Andrew, not yet +Governor, made an unforgettable Prince Bulbo.</p> + +<p>It was a matter of course to us children, that +"Papa and Mamma" should play with us, sing to us, +tell us stories, bathe our bumps, and accompany us to +the dentist; these were things that papas and mammas +did! Looking back now, with some realization of all the +other things they did, we wonder how they managed +it. For one thing, both were rapid workers; for another, +both had the power of leading and inspiring +others to work; for a third, so far as we can see, neither +ever wasted a moment; for a fourth, neither ever +reached the point where there was not some other +task ahead, to be begun as soon as might be.</p> + +<p>Life with a Comet-Apostle was not always easy. +Some one once expressed to "Auntie Francis" wonder +at the patience with which she endured all the +troublesome traits of her much-loved husband. "My +dear," she replied, "I shipped as Captain's mate, for +the voyage!"</p> + +<p>Our mother, quoting this, says, "I cannot imagine +a more useful motto for married life."</p> + +<p>During the thirty-four years of her own married<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +life the Doctor was captain, beyond dispute; yet sometimes +the mate felt that she must take her own way, +and took it quietly. She was fond of quoting the +words of Thomas Garrett,<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> whose house was for years +a station of the Underground Railway, and who helped +many slaves to freedom.</p> + +<p>"How did you manage it?" she asked him.</p> + +<p>His reply sank deep into her mind.</p> + +<p>"It was borne in upon me at an early period, that +if I told no one what I intended to do, I should be +enabled to do it."</p> + +<p>The bond between our mother and father was not +to be entirely broken even by death. She survived him +by thirty-four years; but she never discussed with any +one of us a question of deep import, or national consideration, +without saying, "Your father would think +thus, say thus!" It has been told elsewhere<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> how she +once, being in Newport and waked from sleep by some +noise, called to him; and how he, in Boston, heard her, +and asked, when next they met, "Why did you call +me?" To the end of her life, if startled or alarmed, +she never failed to cry aloud, "Chev!"</p> + +<p>Children were not the only guests at Green Peace. +Some of us remember Kossuth's visit; our mother +often told of the day when John Brown knocked at +the door, and she opened it herself. To all of us, +Charles Sumner and his brothers, Albert and George, +Hillard, Agassiz, Andrew, Parker were familiar figures, +and fit naturally into the background of Green Peace.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>Of these Charles Sumner, always the Doctor's closest +and best-beloved friend, is most familiarly remembered. +We called him "the harmless giant"; and one +of us was in the habit of using his stately figure as a +rule of measurement. Knowing that he was just six +feet tall, she would say that a thing was so much +higher or lower than Mr. Sumner. His deep musical +voice, his rare but kindly smile, are not to be forgotten.</p> + +<p>We do not remember Nathaniel Hawthorne's coming +to the house, but his shy disposition is illustrated +by the record of a visit made by our parents to his +house at Concord. While they were in the parlor, +talking with Mrs. Hawthorne, they saw a tall, slim +man come down the stairs, and Mrs. Hawthorne +called out, "Husband! Husband! Dr. Howe and Mrs. +Howe are here!" Hawthorne bolted across the hall +and out through the door without even looking into +the parlor.</p> + +<p>Of Whittier our mother says:—</p> + +<p>"I shall always be glad that I saw the poet Whittier +in his youth and mine. I was staying in Boston during +the winter of 1847, a young mother with two dear +girl babies, when Sumner, I think, brought Whittier +to our rooms and introduced him to me. His appearance +then was most striking. His eyes glowed like black +diamonds—his hair was of the same hue, brushed +back from his forehead. Several were present on this +occasion who knew him familiarly, and one of these +persons bantered him a little on his bachelor state. +Mr. Whittier said in reply: 'The world's people have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +taken so many of our Quaker girls that there is none +left for me.' A year or two later, my husband invited +him to dine, but was detained so late that I had a +tête-à-tête of half an hour with Mr. Whittier. We sat +near the fire, rather shy and silent, both of us. Whenever +I spoke to Whittier, he hitched his chair nearer +to the fire. At last Dr. Howe came in. I said to him +afterwards, 'My dear, if you had been a little later, +Mr. Whittier would have gone up the chimney.'"</p> + +<p>The most welcome visitor of all was Uncle Sam +Ward. He came into the house like light: we warmed +our hands at his fire and were glad. It was not because +he brought us peaches and gold bracelets, Virginia +hams (to be boiled after his own recipe, with a +bottle of champagne, a wisp of new-mown hay and—we +forget what else!), and fine editions of Horace: +it was because he brought himself.</p> + +<p>"I disagree with Sam Ward," said Charles Sumner, +"on almost every known topic: but when I have talked +with him five minutes I forget everything save that +he is the most delightful companion in the world!"</p> + +<p>A volume might be filled with Uncle Sam's <i>mots</i> +and jests; but print would do him cold justice, lacking +the kindling of his eyes and smile, the mellow music +of his laugh. Memory pictures rise up, showing him +and our mother together in every variety of scene. We +see them coming out of church together after a long +and dull sermon, and hear him whisper to her, "<i>Ce +pauvre Dieu!</i>"</p> + +<p>Again, we see them driving together after some +function at which the address of one Potts had roused<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +Uncle Sam to anger; hear him pouring out a torrent of +eloquent vituperation, forgetting all else in the joy of +freeing his mind. Pausing to draw breath, he glanced +round, and, seeing an unfamiliar landscape, exclaimed, +"Where are we?" "At Potsdam, I think!" said our +mother quietly.</p> + +<p>Hardly less dear to us than Green Peace, and far +dearer to her, was the summer home at Lawton's +Valley, in Portsmouth,<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> Rhode Island. Here, as at +South Boston, the Doctor's genius for "construction +and repairs" wrought a lovely miracle. He found +a tiny farmhouse, sheltered from the seawinds by a +rugged hillock; near at hand, a rocky gorge, through +which tumbled a wild little stream, checked here and +there by a rude dam; in one place turning the wheel +of a mill, where the neighboring farmers brought corn +to grind. His quick eye caught the possibilities of the +situation. He bought the place and proceeded to make +of it a second earthly paradise. The house was enlarged, +trees were felled here, planted there; a garden +appeared as if by magic; in the Valley itself the turbulent +stream was curbed by stone embankments; +the open space became an emerald lawn, set at intervals +with Norway spruces; under the great ash tree +that towered in the centre rustic seats and tables were +placed. Here, through many years, the "Mistress of +the Valley" was to pass her happiest hours; to the +Valley and its healing balm of quiet she owed the +inspiration of much of her best work.</p> + +<p>The following letters fill in the picture of a time to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +which in her later years she looked back as one of the +happiest of her life.</p> + +<p>Yet she was often unhappy, sometimes suffering. +Humanity, her husband's faithful taskmistress, had +not yet set her to work, and the long hours of his +service left her lonely, and—the babies once in bed—at +a loss.</p> + +<p>Her eyes, injured in Rome, in 1843, by the throwing +of <i>confetti</i> (made, in those days, of lime), gave her +much trouble, often exquisite pain. She rarely, in +our memory, used them in the evening. Yet, in later +life, all the miseries, little and big, were dismissed +with a smile and a sigh and a shake of the head. "I +was very naughty in those days!" she would say.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Louisa</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Green Peace</span>, Feb. 18, 1853. +</div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">My dearest Louisa</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>I have kept a long silence with you, but I suppose +that it is too evident before this time that letter-writing +is not my <i>forte</i>, to need any further explanation +of such a fact. Let me say, however, once for all, +that I do not stand upon my reputation as a letter-writer. +About my poetry and my music, I may be +touchy and exacting—about my talents for drawing, +correspondence, and housekeeping, I can only say +that my pretensions are as small as my merits. With +such humility, Justice herself must be satisfied. It is +Modesty with her pink lining (commonly mistaken +for blushes) turned outside. Are you surprised, my +love, at the new style of my writing, and do you think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +I must have been taking lessons of Mr. Bristow? Learn +that my eyes do not allow me to look attentively at +my writing, and that I give a glance and a scribble, +in a truly frantic and indiscriminate manner. Having +ruined my own eyes, you see, I am doing my utmost +to ruin the eyes of my friends. This is human nature—all +evil seeks thus to propagate itself, while good is +satisfied with itself, and stays where it is. When I +think of this, I ask myself, does not the devil, then, +send missionaries? You will agree with me that he +at least sends ambassadors. I have passed, so far, a +very studious winter. Never, since my youth, have +I lived so much in reading and writing—hence these +eyes! Of course, you exclaim, what madness! but, +indeed, I should have a worse madness if I did not +cram myself with books. The bareness and emptiness +of life were then insupportable....</p> + +<p>Of the nearly eighteen months since my return to +America, I have passed fourteen at South Boston. +Last winter I was fresh from my travels, and had still +strength enough to keep up my relation with society, +and to invite people a good deal to my house. But +this year I am more worn down, my health quite impaired, +and the exertion of going out or receiving at +home is too much for me....</p> + +<p>I have made acquaintance with the Russell Lowells, +but we are too far apart to profit much by it. I cannot +swim about in this frozen ocean of Boston life in search +of friends. I feel as if I had struggled enough with it, +as if I could now fold my arms and go down....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"><span class="smcap">S. Boston</span>, Dec. 20, 1853. +</div> + + +<p> +<span class="smcap">My dear Sister Wevie</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>I have been of late a shamefully bad correspondent, +and am as much ashamed of it as I ought to be. But, +indeed, it hurts my eyes so dreadfully to write, and +<i>that</i> you may find it difficult to believe, for perhaps +you find writing less trying to the eyes than reading. +Most people do, but with me the contrary is the case. +I can read with tolerable comfort, but cannot write +a single page, without positive pain. Well, that is +enough about my eyes; now for other things. You +say that you tremble to know the result of the Lace +purchase. Well you may, wretched woman. Don't +be satisfied with trembling; shake! shiver! shrink into +nothing at all! Do you know, Madam, that my cursed +bill from Hooker amounted to over $130? The rascal +charged me ten per cent, which you and he probably +divided together, or had a miscellaneous spree upon. +You sent no specification of items. Madam, to this +day, I do not know whether the earrings or the lace +cost the most. People ask me the price of bertha, +flounces and earrings, I can only reply that Mrs. Crawford +drew upon me for an enormous sum of money, +but that I have no idea how she spent it. Moreover, +my poor little means (a favorite expression of Annie +Mailliard's) have been entirely exhausted by you and +Hooker. My purse is in a dangerous state of collapse—my +credit all gone long ago. I want a coat, a bonnet, +stockings, and pkthdkfs, but when for want of these +things I am cold and snuffly, I go and take out the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +flounces, look at them, turn them over, and say: "Well, +they are <i>very</i> warming for the price, aren't they?" +Besides, you send me a bill, and don't send Aunt Lou +McAllister any. Who paid for her Malachites? I +have a great mind to say that I did, and pocket the +money, which she is anxious to pay, if she could only +get her account settled, which please to attend to at +once, you lymphatic, agreeable monster! About the +mosaics, straw for Bonnets, and worsted work, you +were right in supposing that I would not be very angry. +It was undoubtedly a liberty, your sending them, +but it is one which I can make up my mind to overlook, +especially as you will not be likely to do it again +for some time.</p> + +<p>Now, if you really want to know about the lace, I +will tell you that I found it perfectly magnificent, and +that every one who sees it admires it prodigiously. If +this is the case now, before I have worn it, how much +more will it be so when it shall show itself abroad +heightened by the charms of my person! Admiration +will then know no bounds. Newspaper paragraphs will +begin thus: "The lovely wearer of the lace is about +thirty-four years of age, but looks much older—in +fact, nearly as antique as her own flounces," etc., etc. +The ornaments are not less beautiful, in their kind. +I wear them on distinguished occasions, and at sight +of them, people who have closely adhered to the Decalogue +all their lives incontinently violate the Tenth +Commandment, and then excuse it by saying that Mrs. +Howe does not happen to be their neighbor, living as +she does beyond the reach of everything but Omnibuses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +and Charity. So you see that I consider the investment +a most successful one, and may in future honor +you with more commissions. I even justify it to myself +on the ground that the Brooch and earrings will +make charming pins for my three girls, while the lace, +Mrs. Cary says, is as good as Real Estate. So set your +kind heart completely at rest, you <i>could</i> not have done +better for me, or if you could, I don't know it. As to +my being without pocket handkerchiefs, you will be the +first to reply that <i>that</i> is nothing new. Now for your +charming presents; I was greatly delighted at them. +The Mosaics are perfectly exquisite, the most beautiful +I ever saw. The straw is very handsome, and will +make me the envy of Newport, next summer. The +worsted work appears to me rich and quaint, and shall +be made up as soon as circumstances shall allow. For +each and all accept my hearty thanks....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center">(<i>No year. Probably from Portsmouth, Rhode Island, to +her sister Annie</i>)</p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +Sunday, August 5. +</div> + +<p>... I went in town [Newport] the other day, and dined +with Fanny Longfellow. The L.'s, Curtis,<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> Tommo,<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> and +Kensett are all living together, but seem to make out +tolerably. After dinner Fanny took me to drive on the +Beach in her Barouche. I looked fine, wore my grey +grapery with my drapery, and spread myself out as +much as possible. Curtis took Julia in his one-horse +affair on the Beach. Julia wore a pink silk dress, a +white drawn bonnet with pink ribbons, and a little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +white shawl. Oh, she did look lovely. Mamma was +not at all proud, oh, no! Well, thereafter, I dined elsewhere +and did not want to tell Dudie where. So when +she asked, "Where did you dine yesterday?" I replied: +"I dined, dear, with Mrs. Jimfarlan, and her pig was +at table. Now, before we sat down, Mrs. J. said to me, +'Mrs. Howe, if you do not love my pig, you cannot +dine with me,' and I replied, 'Mrs. Jimfarlan, I adore +your pig,' so down we sat." "Oh, yes, Mamma," says +Julia, "and I know the rest. When you had got +through dinner, and had had all you wanted, you rose, +and told the lady that you had something to tell her +in the greatest confidence. Then she went into the +entry with you, and you whispered in her ear, 'Mrs. +Jimfarlan, I <i>hate</i> your pig!' and then rushed out of the +house."... I have had one grand tea-party—the +Longos, Curtis, etc., etc. We had tea out of doors +and read Tennyson in the valley. It was very pleasant.... +The children spent Tuesday with the Hazards. +I went over to tea. You remember the old beautiful +place.<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> We have now a donkey tandem, which is the +joy of the Island. The children go out with it, and +every one who meets them is seized with cramps in +the region of the diaphragm, they double up and are +relieved by a hearty laugh.</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Annie</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +October, 1854. +</div> + +<p>I will tell you how I have been living since my return +from Newport. I get up at seven or a little before,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +and am always down at half-past for breakfast. After +breakfast I despatch the chicks to school and clear off +the table; then walk in the garden or around the house; +then consult with the cook and order dinner, and see as +far as I can to all sewing and other work. I get to my +own room between ten and eleven, where I study and +write until two <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Dinner is at half-past two. After +that I take all the children in my room. I read to them +and fix worsted work for them. I get half an hour's +reading for myself sometimes, but not often, the days +being so short. Then I walk with dear Julia, the dearest +little friend in the world. The others often join +us, and sometimes we have the donkey for a ride. I +then go in and sing for the children, or play for them +to dance, until tea-time. At a quarter past eight I +go to put Dudie and Flossy to bed. I prolong this last +pleasure and occupation of the day. When I come down +I sit with idle fingers, unable, as you know, to do +the least thing. Chev reads the papers to me. At ten +I am thankful to retire. I do not suppose that this +life is more monotonous than yours in Bordentown, +is it?...</p> + +<p><i>Oct. 19th.</i> I was not able to finish this at one sitting, +my best darling. I cannot write long without great +pain. I had to go in town on Monday and Tuesday, +and yesterday, for a wonder, Baby [Laura] was ill. She +had severe rheumatic pains in both knees, and could +not be moved all day. We sent for a physician, who +prescribed various doses, and told us we should have a +siege of it. To-day she is almost well, though we gave +her no medicine. She is the funniest little soul in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +world. You should hear her admonishing her father +not to "worry so about everything." He is obliged to +laugh in spite of himself.... I am very poor just now. +I furnished my Newport house with the money for +my book ["Passion Flowers"]. It was very little—about +$200.</p></blockquote> + + +<p>Spite of the troublesome eyes, and the various +"pribbles and prabbles," she was in those days editor-in-chief +of "The Listener," a "Weekly Publication." +Julia Romana was sub-editor, and furnished most of +the material, stories, plays, and poems pouring with +astonishing ease from her ten-year-old pen; but there +was an Editor's Table, sometimes dictated by the +chief editor, often written in her own hand.</p> + +<p>The first number of "The Listener" appeared in +October, 1854. The sub-editor avows frankly that "The +first number of our little paper will not be very interesting, +as we have not had time to give notice to those +who we expect to write for it."</p> + +<p>This is followed by "Select Poetry, Mrs. Howe"; +"The Lost Suitor" (to be continued), and "Seaside +Thoughts." The "Editor's Table" reads:—</p> + +<p>"It is often said that Listeners hear no good of themselves, +and it often proves to be true. But we shall +hope to hear, at least, no harm of our modest little +paper. We intend to listen only to good things, and +not to have ears for any unkind words about ourselves +or others. Little people of our age are expected to +listen to those who are older, having so many things +to learn. We will promise, too, to listen as much as we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +can to all the entertaining news about town, and to +give accounts of the newest fashions, the parties in +high life (nurseries are generally three stories <i>high</i>) +and many other particulars. So, we venture to hope +that 'The Listener' will find favour with our friends +and Miss Stephenson's select public."</p> + +<p>This was Miss Hannah Stephenson's school for +girls, which Julia and Florence were attending. "The +Listener" gives pleasant glimpses of life at Green +Peace, the Nursery Fair, the dancing-school, the new +baby, and so forth.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the "Table" is a rhyming one:—</p> + +<p> +What shall we do for an Editor's table?<br /> +To make one really we are not able.<br /> +Our Editorial head is aching,<br /> +Our lily white hand is rather shaking.<br /> +Our baby cries both day and night,<br /> +And puts our "intelligence" all to flight.<br /> +Yet, for the gentle Julia's sake,<br /> +Some little effort we must make.<br /> +We didn't go vote for the know-nothing Mayor,<br /> +A know-nothing's what we cannot bear,<br /> +We know our lessons, that's well for us,<br /> +Or the school would be in a terrible fuss.<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> +<br /> +That's all for the present, we make our best bow,<br /> +And are your affectionate<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 15em;"><i>Editor Howe</i>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>On January 14, 1855, we read:—</p> + +<p>"Last evening began the opera season. Now, as all +the Somebodies were there, we would not like to have +you suppose, dear reader, that we were not, although +perhaps you did not see us, with our little squeezed-up +hat slipping off of our head, and we screwing up our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +eyebrows to keep it on. There was a moment when we +thought we felt it going down the back of our neck, +but a dexterous twitch of the left ear restored the +natural order of things. Well, to show you that we +were there, we'll tell you of what the Opera was composed. +There was love of course, and misery, and +plenty of both. The slim man married the lady in white, +and then ran away with another woman. She tore her +hair, and went mad. One of the stout gentlemen +doubled his fists, the other spread out his hands and +looked pitiful. The mad lady sang occasionally, and +retained wonderful command of her voice. They all felt +dreadfully, and went thro' a great deal, singing all the +time. The thing came right at last, but we have no +room to explain how."</p> + +<p>In May, 1855, the paper died a natural death.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Annie</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">South Boston</span>, Jan. 19, 1855. +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">My sweet meatest</span>,— +</p> + +<p>... First of all you wish to know about the Bonnet, +of course. I am happy to say that it is entirely successful, +cheap, handsome, and becoming. Boston can show +nothing like it. As to the green and lilac, I all but sleep +in it. I never wear it, glory on my soul, without attracting +notice. Those who don't know me, at lectures +and sich, seem to say: "Good heavens, who is that +lovely creature?" Those who do know me seem to be +whispering to each other, "I never saw Julia Howe +look so well!" So much for the green bonnet. As for +the white one, since I took out the pinch behind, it fits<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +and flatters—to the Opera, I will incontinently wear +it. I have been there and still would go. Every woman +seen in front, seems to have a cap with a great frill, +like that of an old-fashioned night-cap; it is only when +she turns sideways that you can see the little hat +behind....</p> + +<p>Did I write you that I have been to the Assembly? +Chev went to the first without me, with his niece, the +pretty one, of course, much to my vexation, so I +spunked up, and determined to go to the second. A +white silk dress was a necessary tho' unprofitable investment. +Turnbull had, fortunately for me, made a +failure, and was selling very cheap. I got a pretty silk +for $17, and had it made by a Boston fashionable +dressmaker, with three pinked flounces—it looked +unkimmon. Next I caused my hair to be dressed by +Pauline, the wife of Canegally. "Will you have it in +the newest fashion?" asked she; "the very newest," +answered I. She put in front two horrid hair cushions +and, combing the hair over them, made a sort of turban +of hair, in which I was, may I say? captivating. I was +proud of my hair, and frequented rooms with looking-glasses +in them, the rest of the afternoon. At the +Ass-embly, Chev and I entered somewhat timidly, +but soon took courage, and parted company. Little +B—— (your neighbor of Bond St.) was there, wiggy +and smiley, but oh! so youthful!! Life is short, they +say, but I don't think so when I see little B—— trying +to look down upon me from beneath, and doing the +patronizing. There was something very nice about her, +however, that is, her pearl necklace with a diamond<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +clasp two inches long, and one and a half broad.... +Oculist said weakness was the disease, and rest the +remedy—oculist recommended veratrine ointment, +frequent refreshing of eyes with wet cloth, cleared his +throat every minute, and was an old humbug.</p> + +<p>They are playing at the Boston Museum a piece, +probably a farce, called "A Blighted Being." When +I see the handbills posted up in the streets it is like +reading one's own name. I must now bid you farewell +and am ever with dearest love,</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Your affectionate sister and<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Blighted Being</span>!!!! +</div></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">South Boston</span>, June 1, 1855. +</div> + +<p>... Well, my darling, it is a very uninteresting time +with me. I am alive, and so are my five children. I +made a vow, when dear Laura was so ill, to complain +never more of dulness or ennui. So I won't, but you +understand if I hadn't made such a vow, I could under +present circumstances indulge in the howling in which +my soul delighteth. I don't know how I keep alive. +The five children seem always waiting, morally, to +pick my bones, and are always quarrelling over their +savage feast.... The stairs as aforesaid kill me. The +Baby keeps me awake, and keeps me down in strength. +Were it not for beer, I were little better than a dead +woman, but, blessed be the infusion of hops, I can still +wink my left eye and look knowing with my right, +which is more, God be praised, than could have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +expected after eight months of Institution. I have +seen Opera of "Trovatore"—in bonnet trimmed with +grapes I went, bonnet baptized with "oh d-Cologne," +but Alexander McDonald was my escort, Chev feeling +very ill just at Opera time, but making himself +strangely comfortable after my departure with easy-chair, +foot-stool, and unlimited pile of papers. Well, +dear, you know they would be better if they could, +but somehow they can't—it isn't in them....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">South Boston</span>, Nov. 27, 1855.<br /> +</div> + +<p>I have been having a wow-wow time of late, or you +should have heard from me. As it is, I shall scribble a +hasty sheet of Hieroglyphics, and put in it as much of +myself as I can. Mme. Kossuth (Kossuth's sister divorced +from former husband) has been here for ten days +past; as she is much worn and depressed I have had a +good deal of comforting up to do—very little time and +much trouble. She is a <i>lady</i>, and has many interesting +qualities, but you can imagine how I long for the +sanctity of home. Still, my heart aches that this +woman, as well bred as any one of ourselves, should +go back to live in two miserable rooms, with three +of her four children, cooking, and washing everything +with her own hands, and sitting up half the night to +earn a pittance by sewing or fancy work. Her eldest +son has been employed as engineer on the Saratoga +and Sacketts Harbor railroad for two years, but has +not been paid a cent—the R.R. being nearly or quite +bankrupt. He is earning $5 a week in a Bank, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +this is all they have to depend upon. She wants to +hire a small farm somewhere in New Jersey and live +upon it with her children....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sisters</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +Thursday, 29, 1856. +</div> + +<p>... We have been in the most painful state of excitement +relative to Kansas matters and dear Charles +Sumner, whose condition gives great anxiety.<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> Chev +is as you might expect under such circumstances; he +has had much to do with meetings here, etc., etc. +New England spunk seems to be pretty well up, but +what will be done is uncertain as yet. One thing we +have got: the Massachusetts Legislature has passed the +"personal liberty bill," which will effectually prevent +the rendition of any more fugitive slaves from Massachusetts. +Another thing, the Tract Society here +(orthodox) has put out old Dr. Adams, who published +a book in favor of slavery; a third thing, the Connecticut +legislature has withdrawn its invitation to +Mr. Everett to deliver his oration before them, in +consequence of his having declined to speak at the +Sumner meeting in Faneuil Hall....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Annie</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Cincinnati</span>, May 26, 1857. <br /> +<span class="smcap">Casa Greenis.</span> +</div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">Dearest Annie</span>, <i>Fiancée de marbre et Femme de glace</i>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>Heaven knows what I have not been through with +since I saw you—dust, dirt, dyspepsia, hotels, railroads,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +prairies, Western steamboats, Western people, +more prairies, tobacco juice, captains of boats, pilots +of ditto, long days of jolting in the cars, with stoppages +of ten minutes for dinner, and the devil take the +hindmost. There ought to be no chickens this year, +so many eggs have we eaten. Flossy was quite ill for +two days at St. Louis. Chev is too rapid and restless +a traveller for pleasure. Still, I think I shall be glad +to have made the journey when it is all over—I must +be stronger than I was, for I bear fatigue very well +now and at first I could not bear it at all. We went +from Philadelphia to Baltimore, thence to Wheeling, +thence to see the Manns at Antioch—they almost +ate us up, so glad were they to see us. Thence to Cincinnati, +where two days with Kitty Rölker, a party +at Larz Anderson's—Longworth's wine-cellar, pleasant +attentions from a gentleman by the name of King, +who took me about in a carriage and proposed everything +but marriage. After passing the morning with +me, he asked if I was English. I told him no. When +we met in the evening, he had thought matters +over, and exclaimed, "You must be Miss Ward!" +"And you," I cried, "must be the nephew of my +father's old partner. Do you happen to have a strawberry +mark or anything of that kind about you?" +"No." "Then you are my long-lost Rufus!" And so +we rushed into each other's confidence and swore, like +troopers, eternal friendship. Thence to Louisville, +dear, a beastly place, where I saw the Negro jail, and +the criminal court in session, trying a man for the +harmless pleasantry of murdering his wife. Thence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +to St. Louis, where Chev left us and went to Kansas, +and Fwotty and I boated it back here and went to a +hotel, and the William Greenes they came and took +us, and that's all for the present....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Garret Platform</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lawton's Valley</span>, July 13, 1857. +</div> + +<p>... Charlotte Brontë is deeply interesting, but I +think she and I would not have liked each other, +while still I see points of resemblance—many indeed—between +us. Her life, on the whole, a very serious +and instructive page in literary history. God rest +her! she was as faithful and earnest as she was clever—she +suffered much.</p> + +<p>... Theodore Parker and wife came here last night, +to stay a week if they like it (have just had a fight +with a bumble-bee, in avoiding which I banged my +head considerably against a door, in the narrow limits +of my garret platform); so you see I am still a few +squashes ("some pumpkins" is vulgar, and I isn't)....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sisters</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">S. Boston</span>, April 4, 1858. +</div> + +<p>... I am perfectly worn out in mind, body and +estate. The Fair<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> lasted five days and five evenings. +I was there every day, and nearly all day, and at the +end of it I dropped like a dead person. Never did I +experience such fatigue—the crowd of faces, the bad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +air, the responsibility of selling and the difficulty of +suiting everybody, was almost too much for me. On +the other hand, it was an entirely new experience, +and a very amusing one. My table was one of the +prettiest, and, as I took care to have some young and +pretty assistants, it proved one of the most attractive. +I cleared $426.00, which was doing pretty well, as I +had very little given me.... For a week after the Fair +I could do nothing but lie on a sofa or in an easy-chair, ... +but by the end of the week I revived, and it +pleased the Devil to suggest to me that this was the +moment to give a long promised party to the Governor +and his wife. All hands set to work, therefore, writing +notes. With the assistance of three Amanuenses I +scoured the whole surface of Boston society.... Unluckily +I had fixed upon an evening when there were +to be two other parties, and of course the cream of +the cream was already engaged. I believe in my soul +that I invited 300 people—every day everybody sent +word they could not come. I was full of anxiety, got +the house well arranged though, engaged a colored +man, and got a splendid supper. Miss Hunt, who is +writing for me, smacks her lips at the remembrance +of the same, I mean the supper, not the black man. +Well! the evening came, and with it all the odds and +ends of half a dozen sets of people, including some of +the most primitive and some of the most fashionable. +I had the greatest pleasure in introducing a dowdy +high neck, got up for the occasion, with short sleeves +and a bow behind, to the most elaborate of French ball-dresses +with head-dress to match, and leaving them to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +take care of each other the best way they could. As +for the Governor [Nathaniel P. Banks], I introduced +him right and left to people who had never voted +for him and never will. The pious were permitted +to enjoy Theodore Parker, and Julia's schoolmaster +sat on a sofa and talked about Carlyle. I did not care—the +colored man made it all right. Imagine my +astonishment at hearing the party then and after +pronounced one of the most brilliant and successful +ever given in Boston. The people all said, "It is such +a relief to see new faces—we always meet the same +people at city parties." Well, darlings, the pickings of +the supper was very good for near a week afterwards, +and, having got through with my party, I have nearly +killed myself with going to hear Mr. Booth, whose +playing is beautiful exceedingly. Having for once in +my life had play enough and a great deal too much, +I am going to work to-morrow like an old Trojan +building a new city. I am too poor to come to New +York this spring; still it is not impossible. Farewell, +Beloveds, it is church time, and this edifying critter +is uncommon punctual in her devotions. So farewell, +love much, and so far as human weakness allows imitate +the noble example of</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Your sister,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Julia</span>. +</div></blockquote> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>LITTLE SAMMY: THE CIVIL WAR</h3> + +<h4>1859-1863; <i>aet.</i> 40-44</h4> + +<p> +There came indeed an hour of fate<br /> +By bitter war made desolate<br /> +When, reading portents in the sky,<br /> +All in a dream I leapt on high<br /> +To pin my rhyme to my country's gown.<br /> +'Tis my one verse that will not down.<br /> +Stars have grown out of mortal crown.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span></p> + + +<blockquote><p>I honour the author of the "Battle Hymn," and of "The Flag." She was +born in the city of New York. I could well wish she were a native of +Massachusetts. We have had no such poetess in New England.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Emerson's</span> <i>Journals</i>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />In the winter of 1859 the Doctor's health became +so much impaired by overwork that a change of air +and scene was imperative. At the same time Theodore +Parker, already stricken with a mortal disease, was +ordered to Cuba in the hope that a mild climate might +check the progress of the consumption. He begged the +Howes to join him and his wife, and in February the +four sailed for Havana. This expedition is described +in "A Trip to Cuba."</p> + +<p>The opening chapter presents three of the little party +during the rough and stormy voyage:—</p> + +<p>"The Philanthropist has lost the movement of the +age,—keeled up in an upper berth, convulsively embracing +a blanket, what conservative more immovable +than he? The Great Man of the party refrains from +his large theories, which, like the circles made by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +stone thrown into the water, begin somewhere and +end nowhere. As we have said, he expounds himself +no more, the significant forefinger is down, the eye +no longer imprisons yours. But if you ask him how he +does, he shakes himself as if, like Farinata,—</p> + +<p> +'<i>avesse l'inferno in gran dispetto</i>,'—<br /> +</p> + +<p>he had a very contemptible opinion of hell."</p> + +<p>Several "portraits" follow, among them her own.</p> + +<p>"A woman, said to be of a literary turn of mind, in +the miserablest condition imaginable. Her clothes, +flung at her by the Stewardess, seem to have hit in +some places and missed in others. Her listless hands +occasionally make an attempt to keep her draperies +together, and to pull her hat on her head; but though +the intention is evident, she accomplishes little by her +motion. She is being perpetually lugged about by a +stout steward, who knocks her head against both +sides of the vessel, folds her up in the gangway, spreads +her out on the deck, and takes her upstairs, downstairs, +and in my lady's chamber, where, report says, he +feeds her with a spoon, and comforts her with such +philosophy as he is master of. N.B. This woman, upon +the first change of weather, rose like a cork, dressed +like a Christian, and toddled about the deck in the +easiest manner, sipping her grog, and cutting sly +jokes upon her late companions in misery;—is supposed +by some to have been an impostor, and, when +ill-treated, announced intentions of writing a book.</p> + +<p>"No. 4, my last, is only a sketch;—circumstances +allowed no more. Can Grande,<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> the great dog, has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +been got up out of the pit, where he has worried the +Stewardess and snapped at the friend who tried to +pat him on the head. Everybody asks where he is. +Don't you see that heap of shawls yonder, lying in +the sun, and heated up to about 212° Fahrenheit? That +slouched hat on top marks the spot where his head +should lie,—by treading cautiously in the opposite +direction you may discover his feet. All between is +perfectly passive and harmless. His chief food is +pickles,—his only desire is rest. After all these years +of controversy, after all these battles, bravely fought +and nobly won, you might write with truth upon this +moveless mound of woollens the pathetic words from +Père La Chaise: <i>Implora Pace</i>."</p> + +<p>The trip to Cuba was only the beginning of a long +voyage for the Parkers, who were bound for Italy. +The parting between the friends was sad. All felt that +they were to meet no more. Parker died in Florence +fifteen months later.</p> + +<p>"A pleasant row brought us to the side of the +steamer. It was dusk already as we ascended her +steep gangway, and from that to darkness there is, +at this season, but the interval of a breath. Dusk too +were our thoughts, at parting from Can Grande, the +mighty, the vehement, the great fighter. How were +we to miss his deep music, here and at home! With +his assistance we had made a very respectable band; +now we were to be only a wandering drum and fife,—the +fife particularly shrill, and the drum particularly +solemn.... And now came silence, and tears, +and last embraces; we slipped down the gangway into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +our little craft, and looking up, saw bending above us, +between the slouched hat and the silver beard, the +eyes that we can never forget, that seemed to drop +back in the darkness with the solemnity of a last farewell. +We went home, and the drum hung himself +gloomily on his peg, and the little fife <i>shut up</i> for the +remainder of the evening."</p> + +<p>"A Trip to Cuba" appeared first serially in the +"Atlantic Monthly," then in book form. Years after, +a friend, visiting Cuba, took with her a copy of the +little volume; it was seized at Havana by the customs +house officers, and confiscated as dangerous and incendiary +material.</p> + +<p>On her return, our mother was asked to write regularly +for the New York "Tribune," describing the season +at Newport. This was the beginning of a correspondence +which lasted well into the time of the Civil +War. She says of it:—</p> + +<p>"My letters dealt somewhat with social doings in +Newport and in Boston, but more with the great +events of the time. To me the experience was valuable +in that I found myself brought nearer in sympathy +to the general public, and helped to a better +understanding of its needs and demands."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To her sister Annie</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +Sunday, November 6, 1859. +</div> + +<p>The potatoes arrived long since and were most +jolly, as indeed they continue to be. Didn't acknowledge +them 'cause knew other people did, and thought +it best to be unlike the common herd. Have just been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +to church and heard Clarke preach about John Brown, +whom God bless, and will bless! I am much too dull +to write anything good about him, but shall say +something at the end of my book on Cuba, whereof +I am at present correcting the proof-sheets. I went +to see his poor wife, who passed through here some +days since. We shed tears together and embraced at +parting, poor soul! Folks say that the last number of +my Cuba is the best thing I ever did, in prose or verse. +Even Emerson wrote me about it from Concord. I +tell you this in case you should not find out of your +own accord that it is good. I have had rather an +unsettled autumn—have been very infirm and inactive, +but have kept up as well as possible—going +to church, also to Opera, also to hear dear Edwin +Booth, who is playing better than ever. My children +are all well and delightful....</p> + +<p>I have finished Tacitus' history, also his Germans.... +Chev is not at all annoyed by the newspapers, +but has been greatly overdone by anxiety and labor +for Brown. Much has come upon his shoulders, getting +money, paying counsel, and so on. Of course all +the stories about the Northern Abolitionists are the +merest stuff. No one knew of Brown's intentions but +Brown himself and his handful of men. The attempt +I must judge insane but the spirit <i>heroic</i>. I should be +glad to be as sure of heaven as that old man may +be, following right in the spirit and footsteps of the +old martyrs, girding on his sword for the weak and +oppressed. His death will be holy and glorious—the +gallows cannot dishonor him—he will hallow it....</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>On Christmas Day, 1859, she gave birth to a second +son, who was named Samuel Gridley. This latest and +perhaps dearest child was for three short years to fill +his parents' life with a joy which came and went with +him. His little life was all beautiful, all bright. We +associate him specially with the years we spent at +No. 13 Chestnut Street, Boston, a spacious and cheerful +house which we remember with real affection. The +other children were at school; little Sam was the +dear companion of our mother's walks, the delight of +our father's few leisure hours. For him new songs +were made, new games invented: both parents looked +forward to fresh youth and vigor in his sweet companionship. +This was not to be. "In short measures, +life may perfect be": little Sam died of diphtheritic +croup, May 17, 1863.</p> + +<p>This heavy sorrow for a time crushed both these +tender parents to the earth. Our father became seriously +ill from grief; our mother, younger and more +resilient, found some relief in nursing him and caring +for the other children; but this was not enough. She +could not banish from her mind the terrible memory +of her little boy's suffering, the anguish of parting with +him. While her soul lifted its eyes to the hills, her +heart sought some way to keep his image constantly +before her. Her sad thoughts must be recorded, and +she took up, for the first time since 1843, the habit of +keeping a journal.</p> + +<p>The first journal is a slender Diary and Memorandum +Book. On May 13, the first note of alarm is +sounded. Sammy "did not seem quite right." From<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +that date the record goes on, the agonizing details +briefly described, the loss spoken of in words which +no one could read unmoved. But even this was not +enough: grief must find further expression, yet must +be repressed, so far as might be, in the presence of +others, lest her sorrow make theirs heavier. This need +of expression took a singular form. She wrote a letter +to the child himself, telling the story of his life and +death; wrote it with care and precision, omitting no +smallest detail, gathering, as it were a handful of +pearls, every slightest memory of the brief time.</p> + +<p>A few extracts show the tenor of this letter:—</p> + + +<blockquote><p> +"<span class="smcap">My dearest little Sammy</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>"It is four weeks to-day since I saw your sweet face +for the last time on earth. It did not look like your +little face, my dear pet, it was so still, and sad, and +quiet. But Death had changed it, and I had to submit, +and was thankful to have even so much of you +as that still face, for some days. Everybody grieved +to part from you, dear little soul, but I suppose that +I grieved most of all, because you belonged most to +me. You were always with me, from the time you +began to exist at all. The time of your birth was a +sad one. It was the time of the imprisonment and +death of John Brown, a very noble man, who should +be in one of the many mansions of which Christ tells +us, and in which I hope, dear, that you are nearer to +Him than any of us can be....</p> + +<p>"You arrived, I think, at three in the morning, very +red in the face, and making a great time about it. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +were a fine large Baby, weighing twelve pounds.... +I have some of your baby dresses left, and shall +hunt them up and lay them with the clothes you have +worn lately.... I gave you milk myself.... I used +to lay you across my breast when you cried, and you +liked this so well that you often insisted upon sleeping +in that position after you were grown quite large. It +hurt me so much that I finally managed to break you +of the habit, but not until you were more than a year +old.... I had a nice crimson merino cloak made for +you, trimmed with velvet, and lined with white silk. +I bought also a very nice crochet cap, of white and +crimson worsted, and in these you were taken to drive +with me....</p> + +<p>"During this first year of your life I had some +troubles, and your Baby ways were my greatest comfort. +I used to think: this Baby will grow up to be a +man, and will protect me when I am old. For I thought, +dear, that you should have outlived me many years. +But you are removed from us to grow in another +world, of which I know nothing but what Christ has +told me....</p> + +<p>"You used to keep me awake a good deal at night, +and this sometimes made me nervous and fretful, +though I was usually very happy with you. I would +give a good deal for one of those bad nights now, though +at the time they were pretty hard upon me....</p> + +<p>"... Your second summer brings me to the winter +that followed. It was quite a gay winter for us at old +South Boston. Marie, the German cook, made very +nice dishes, and I had many people to dine, and one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +or two pleasant evening parties. You still slept in my +room, and when I was going to a party in the evening, +Annie<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> used to bring my nice dress and my ornaments +softly out of the room, that I might dress in the nursery, +and not disturb your slumbers. I was always glad +to get home and undress, and it was always sweet to +come to the bed, and find you in it, sound asleep, and +lying right across.... I learned to sleep on a very little +bit of the bed, you wanted so much of it. This winter, +I bought you a pair of snow-boots, of which you were +very proud....</p> + +<p>"We all got along happily, dear, till early in April +(1863), when your father desired me to make a journey +with Julia, who needed change of scene a little. +So I had to go and leave you, my sweet of sweets....</p> + +<p>"We were glad enough to see each other again, you +and I, and I felt as if I could never part with you +again. But I was only to have you for a few days, my +darling....</p> + +<p>"Thursday I sat up in your nursery, in the afternoon, +as I usually did, with my book—you having +your toys. When I had finished reading, I built houses +with blocks for you, and rolled the balls and dumbbells +across the floor to you. You rolled them back to +me and this amused you very much. I go to sit up +in your nursery in the afternoon now, with my book—the +light shines in now as it used to do, and I hear the +hand-organ and children's voices in the street. It +seems to bring you a little nearer to me, my dear lost +one, but not near enough for comfort."</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>The child's illness and death are described minutely, +every symptom, every remedy, every anguish noted. +Then follows:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"It gives me dreadful pain to recall these things and +write them down, my dearest. I don't do it to make +myself miserable, but in order that I may have some +lasting record of how you lived and died. You left +little by which you might be remembered, save the +love of kindred and friendly hearts, but in my heart, +dear, your precious image is deeply sculptured. All +my life will be full of grief for you, dearest Boy, and I +think that I shall hardly live as long as I should have +lived, if I had had you to make me happy. Perhaps +it seems very foolish that I should write all this, and +talk to you in it as if you could know what I write. +But, my little darling, it comforts me to think that +your sweet soul lives, and that you do know something +about me. Christ said, 'This day thou shalt be with +me in Paradise': and he knew that this was no vain +promise. So, believing the dear Christ, I am led along +to have faith in immortal life, of which, dear, I know +nothing of myself.</p> + +<p>"Your little funeral, dear, was bitter and agonizing. +The good God does not send affliction without comfort, +but the weeping eyes and breaking heart must +struggle through much anguish before they can reach +it...."</p></blockquote> + + +<p>There was no hearse at this little funeral. The small +white casket was placed on the front seat in the carriage +in which she rode.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>"We came near the gate of Mount Auburn, when +I began to realize that the parting was very near. I +now opened the casket, took your dear little cold hand +in mine, and began to take silent farewell of you. And +here, dearest child, I must stop. The remembrance +of those last moments so cuts me to the heart, that I +cannot say one word more about them, and not much +about the life of loneliness and desolation which now +began for me, and of which I do not see the end. God +knows why I lost you, and how I suffer for you, and He +knows how and when I shall see you again, as I hope +to do, my dearest, because Christ says we are to live +again after this life, and I know that if I am immortal, +God will not inflict upon me the pain of an eternal +separation from you. So, we shall meet again, sweet +Angel Sammy. God grant that the rest of my life may +be worthy of this hope, more dear than life itself....</p> + +<p>"I must finish these words by saying that I am +happy in believing that my dear Child lives, in a +broader land, with better teaching and higher joys +than I could have given him. I hope that the years +to come will brighten, not efface, my mind's picture +of him, and that among these, the cipher of one blessed +year is already written, in which the picture will become +reality, and the present sorrow the foundation of an +eternal joy."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The following stanzas are chosen from among many +poems on little Sammy's life and death:—</p> + + +<p>REMEMBRANCE</p> +<p> +* * * +* * * <br /> +So thou art hid again, and wilt not come<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>For any knockings at the veilèd door;<br /> +Nor mother-pangs, nor nature, can restore<br /> +The heart's delight and blossom of thy home.<br /> +<br /> +And I with others, in the outer court,<br /> +Must sadly follow the excluding will,<br /> +In painful admiration, of the skill<br /> +Of God, who speaks his sweetest sentence short.<br /> +</p> + +<p>At this time she writes to her sister Annie:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"I cannot yet write of what has come to me. Chev +and I feel that we are baptized into a new order of +suffering—those who have lost children, loving them, +can never be like those who have not. It makes a new +heaven and a new earth. The new heaven I have not +yet—the blow is too rough and recent. But the new +earth, sown with tears, with the beauty and glory gone +out of it, the spring itself, that should have made us +happy together, grown tasteless and almost hateful. +All the relish of life seems gone with him. I have no +patience to make phrases about it—for the moment +it seems utterness of doubt and of loss.</p> + +<p>"No doubt about him. 'This night shalt thou be +with me in Paradise' was said by one who knew what +he promised. My precious Baby is with the Beautiful +One who was so tender with the children. But I am +alone, still fighting over the dark battle of his death, +still questioning whether there is any forgiveness for +such a death. Something must have been wrong +somewhere—to find it out, I have tortured myself +almost out of sanity. Now I must only say, it is, and +look and wait for divine lessons which follow our +bitter afflictions.</p> + +<p>"God bless you all, darling. Ask dear Cogswell to +write me a few lines—tell him that this deep cut<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +makes all my previous life seem shallow and superficial. +Tell him to think of me a little in my great +sorrow.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +"Your loving<br /> + +"<span class="smcap">Julia</span>." +</div></blockquote> + +<p>She had by now definitely joined the Unitarian +Church, in whose doctrines her mind found full and +lasting rest; throughout this sorrowful time the Reverend +James Freeman Clarke was one of her kindest +helpers. Several years before this, she had unwillingly +left Theodore Parker's congregation at our father's +request. She records in the "Reminiscences" his +views on this subject:—</p> + +<p>"'The children (our two oldest girls) are now of an +age at which they should receive impressions of reverence. +They should, therefore, see nothing at the +Sunday service which militates against that feeling. At +Parker's meeting individuals read the newspapers before +the exercises begin. A good many persons come +in after the prayer, and some go out before the conclusion +of the sermon. These irregularities offend my +sense of decorum, and appear to me undesirable in the +religious education of my family.'"</p> + +<p>It was a grievous thing to her to make this sacrifice; +she said to Horace Mann that to give up Parker's +ministry for any other would be like going to the synagogue +when Paul was preaching near at hand; yet, +once made, it was the source of a lifelong joy and +comfort.</p> + +<p>Mr. Clarke was then preaching at Williams Hall;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +hearing Parker speak of him warmly, she determined +to attend his services. She found his preaching "as +unlike as possible to that of Theodore Parker. He +had not the philosophic and militant genius of Parker, +but he had a genius of his own, poetical, harmonizing. +In after years I esteemed myself fortunate in having +passed from the drastic discipline of the one to the +tender and reconciling ministry of the other."</p> + +<p>She has much to say in the "Reminiscences" about +the dear "Saint James," as his friends loved to call +him. The relation between them was close and affectionate: +the Church of the Disciples became her spiritual +home.</p> + +<p>These were the days of the Civil War; we must turn +back to its opening year to record an episode of importance +to her and to others.</p> + +<p>In the autumn of 1861 she went to Washington in +company with Governor and Mrs. Andrew, Mr. Clarke +and the Doctor, who was one of the pioneers of the +Sanitary Commission, carrying his restless energy and +indomitable will from camp to hospital, from battle-field +to bureau. She longed to help in some way, but +felt that there was nothing she could do—except +make lint, which we were all doing.</p> + +<p>"I could not leave my nursery to follow the march +of our armies, neither had I the practical deftness +which the preparing and packing of sanitary stores +demanded. Something seemed to say to me, 'You +would be glad to serve, but you cannot help anyone: +you have nothing to give, and there is nothing for +you to do.' Yet, because of my sincere desire, a word<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +was given me to say, which did strengthen the hearts +of those who fought in the field and of those who languished +in the prison."</p> + +<p>Returning from a review of troops near Washington, +her carriage was surrounded and delayed by the +marching regiments: she and her companions sang, +to beguile the tedium of the way, the war songs which +every one was singing in those days; among them—</p> + +<p> +"John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">His soul is marching on!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The soldiers liked this, cried, "Good for you!" and +took up the chorus with its rhythmic swing.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Howe," said Mr. Clarke, "why do you not +write some good words for that stirring tune?"</p> + +<p>"I have often wished to do so!" she replied.</p> + +<p>Waking in the gray of the next morning, as she lay +waiting for the dawn, the word came to her.</p> + +<p> +"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord—"<br /> +</p> + +<p>She lay perfectly still. Line by line, stanza by stanza, +the words came sweeping on with the rhythm of +marching feet, pauseless, resistless. She saw the long +lines swinging into place before her eyes, heard the +voice of the nation speaking through her lips. She +waited till the voice was silent, till the last line was +ended; then sprang from bed, and groping for pen +and paper, scrawled in the gray twilight the "Battle +Hymn of the Republic." She was used to writing +thus; verses often came to her at night, and must be +scribbled in the dark for fear of waking the baby; +she crept back to bed, and as she fell asleep she said +to herself, "I like this better than most things I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +written." In the morning, while recalling the incident, +she found she had forgotten the words.</p> + +<p>The poem was published in the "Atlantic Monthly" +for February, 1862. "It was somewhat praised," she +says, "on its appearance, but the vicissitudes of the +war so engrossed public attention that small heed was +taken of literary matters.... I knew and was content +to know, that the poem soon found its way to +the camps, as I heard from time to time of its being +sung in chorus by the soldiers."</p> + +<p>She did not, however, realize how rapidly the hymn +made its way, nor how strong a hold it took upon the +people. It was "sung, chanted, recited, and used in +exhortation and prayer on the eve of battle." It was +printed in newspapers, in army hymn-books, on broadsides; +it was the word of the hour, and the Union +armies marched to its swing.</p> + +<p>Among the singers of the "Battle Hymn" was Chaplain +McCabe, the fighting chaplain of the 122d Ohio +Volunteer Infantry. He read the poem in the "Atlantic," +and was so struck with it that he committed +it to memory before rising from his chair. He took it +with him to the front, and in due time to Libby Prison, +whither he was sent after being captured at Winchester. +Here, in the great bare room where hundreds of +Northern soldiers were herded together, came one +night a rumor of disaster to the Union arms. A great +battle, their jailers told them; a great Confederate +victory. Sadly the Northern men gathered together +in groups, sitting or lying on the floor, talking in low +tones, wondering how, where, why. Suddenly, one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +the negroes who brought food for the prisoners stooped +in passing and whispered to one of the sorrowful +groups. The news was false: there had, indeed, been a +great battle, but the Union army had won, the Confederates +were defeated and scattered. Like a flame +the word flashed through the prison. Men leaped to +their feet, shouted, embraced one another in a frenzy +of joy and triumph; and Chaplain McCabe, standing +in the middle of the room, lifted up his great voice and +sang aloud,—</p> + +<p> +"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>Every voice took up the chorus, and Libby Prison rang +with the shout of "Glory, glory, hallelujah!"</p> + +<p>The victory was that of Gettysburg. When, some +time after, McCabe was released from prison, he told +in Washington, before a great audience of loyal people, +the story of his war-time experiences; and when he +came to that night in Libby Prison, he sang the "Battle +Hymn" once more. The effect was magical: people +shouted, wept, and sang, all together; and when the +song was ended, above the tumult of applause was +heard the voice of Abraham Lincoln, exclaiming, while +the tears rolled down his cheeks,—</p> + +<p>"Sing it again!"</p> + +<p>(Our mother met Lincoln in 1861, and was presented +to him by Governor Andrew. After greeting the party, +the President "seated himself so near the famous portrait +of Washington by Gilbert Stuart as naturally +to suggest some comparison between the two figures. +On the canvas we saw the calm presence, the serene +assurance of the man who had successfully accomplished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +a great undertaking, a vision of health and of +peace. In the chair beside it sat a tall, bony figure, +devoid of grace, a countenance almost redeemed from +plainness by two kindly blue eyes, but overshadowed +by the dark problems of the moment....</p> + +<p>"When we had left the presence, one of our number +exclaimed, 'Helpless Honesty!' As if Honesty +could ever be helpless.")</p> + +<p>The "Battle Hymn of the Republic" has been +translated into Italian, Spanish, and Armenian. Written +in the dark on a scrap of Sanitary Commission +paper, it has been printed in every imaginable form, +from the beautiful parchment edition presented to +the author on her seventieth birthday by the New +England Woman's Club, down to the cover of a tiny +brochure advertising a cure for consumption. It has +also been set to music many times, but never successfully. +It is inseparably wedded to the air for which it +was written, an air simple, martial, and dignified: no +attempt to divorce the two could ever succeed.</p> + +<p>From the time of writing it to that of her death, she +was constantly besieged by requests for autograph +copies of part or the whole of the hymn. Sometimes +the petitioners realized what they asked, as when +Edmund Clarence Stedman wrote:—</p> + +<p>"I can well understand what a Frankenstein's monster +such a creation grows to be—such a poem as the +'Battle Hymn,' when it has become the sacred scroll +of millions, each one of whom would fain obtain a copy +of it."</p> + +<p>Reasonable or unreasonable, she tried to meet every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +such request; no one can ever know how many times +she copied the hymn, but if a record had been kept, +some one with a turn for multiplication might tell us +whether the lines put together made up a mile, or +more, or less.</p> + +<p>She wrote many other poems of the war, among +them "The Flag," which is to be found in many anthologies. +As the "Battle Hymn" was the voice of +the nation's, so this was the expression of her own +ardent patriotism:—</p> + +<p> +There's a flag hangs over my threshold<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Whose folds are more dear to me</span><br /> +Than the blood that thrills in my bosom<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Its earnest of liberty.</span><br /> +<br /> +And dear are the stars it harbors<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In its sunny field of blue,</span><br /> +As the hope of a further Heaven<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That lights all our dim lives through.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>This was no figure of speech, but the truth. The +war and its mighty issues filled her heart and mind; she +poured out song after song, all breathing the spirit of +the time, the spirit of hope, resolve, aspiration. Everything +she saw connected itself in some way with the +great struggle. Seeing her daughters among their +young friends, gay as youth must be gay, even in war-time, +she cries out,—</p> + +<p> +Weave no more silks, ye Lyons looms,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To deck our girls for gay delights!</span><br /> +The crimson flower of battle blooms,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And solemn marches fill the night.</span><br /> +<br /> +Weave but the flag whose bars to-day<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Drooped heavy o'er our early dead,</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>And homely garments, coarse and gray,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For orphans that must earn their bread!<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"The Jeweller's Shop in War-Time," "The Battle +Eucharist," "The Harvard Student's Song," all reveal +the deep feeling of her heart; we remember her singing +of "Left Behind" (set to her own music, a wild, mournful +chant) as something so thrilling that it catches the +breath as we think of it.</p> + +<p>Being again in Washington in the spring of 1863, she +visited the Army of the Potomac, in company with the +wife of General Francis Barlow, and wrote on her return +a sketch of the expedition. She carried "a fine +Horace, which repeatedly annoyed me by tumbling +in the dirt, a volume of Sully's Memoirs, and a little +fag end of Spinoza, being his <i>Tractat</i> upon the Old +Testament."</p> + +<p>She saw the working of the Sanitary Commission; +saw "Fighting Joe" Hooker, who looked like "the +man who can tell nineteen secrets and keep the twentieth, +which will be the only one worth knowing"; and +William H. Seward, "looking singularly like a man who +has balanced a chip on the fence, and who congratulates +himself upon its remaining there"; saw, too, from +the heights above Fredericksburg (within the danger +line!), an artillery skirmish.</p> + +<p>Departing, she writes:—</p> + +<p>"Farewell, bristling heights! farewell, sad Fredericksburg! +farewell, river of sorrows; farewell, soldiers +death-determined, upon whose mournful sacrifice we +must shut unwilling eyes. Would it were all at end! the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +dead wept and buried, the living justified before God. +For the deep and terrible secret of the divine idea still +lies buried in the burning bosom of the contest. Suspected +by the few, shunned by the many, it has not +as yet leapt to light in the sight of all. This direful +tragedy, in whose third dreary act we are, hangs all +upon a great thought. To interpret this, through waste +and woe, is the first moral obligation of the situation.... +This terrible development of moral causes and +effects will enchain the wonder of the world until the +crisis of poetical justice which must end it shall have +won the acquiescence of mankind, carrying its irresistible +lesson into the mind of the critics, into the heart +of the multitude."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>NO. 13 CHESTNUT STREET, BOSTON</h3> + +<h4>1864; <i>aet.</i> 45</h4> + +<p>PHILOSOPHY</p> + +<p> +Naked and poor thou goest, Philosophy!<br /> +Thy robe of serge hath lain beneath the stars;<br /> +Thy weight of tresses, ponderously free,<br /> +Of iron hue, no golden circlet bars.<br /> +<br /> +Thy pale page, Study, by thy side doth hold,<br /> +As by Cyprigna's her persuasive boy:<br /> +Twin sacks thou bear'st; one doth thy gifts infold,<br /> +Whose modest tendering proves immortal joy.<br /> +<br /> +The other at thy patient back doth hang<br /> +To keep the boons thou'rt wonted to receive:<br /> +Reproof therein doth hide her venomed fang,<br /> +And hard barbaric arts, that mock and grieve.<br /> +<br /> +Here is a stab, and here a mortal thrust;<br /> +Here galley service brought the age to loss;<br /> +Here lies thy virgin forehead rolled in dust<br /> +Beside the martyr stake of hero cross.<br /> +<br /> +They who besmirched thy whiteness with their pitch,<br /> +Thy gallery of glories did complete;<br /> +They who accepted of thee so grew rich,<br /> +Men could not count their treasures in the street.<br /> +<br /> +Thy hollow cheek, and eye of distant light,<br /> +Won from the chief of men their noblest love;<br /> +Olympian feasts thy temperance requite,<br /> +And thy worn weeds a priceless dowry prove.<br /> +<br /> +I know not if I've caught the matchless mood<br /> +In which impassioned Petrarch sang of thee;<br /> +But this I know,—the world its plenitude<br /> +May keep, so I may share thy beggary.<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />After the two real homes, Green Peace and Lawton's +Valley, the Chestnut Street house was nearest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +to our hearts; this, though we were there only three +years, and though it was there that we children first +saw the face of sorrow. It was an heroic time. The +Doctor was in constant touch with the events of the +war. He was sent by Governor Andrew to examine +conditions of camps and hospitals, in Massachusetts +and at the seat of war; he worked as hard on +the Sanitary Commission, to which he had been appointed +by President Lincoln, as on any other of +his multifarious labors: his knowledge of practical +warfare and his grasp of situations gave him a foresight +of coming events which seemed well-nigh miraculous. +When he entered the house, we all felt the +electric touch, found ourselves in the circuit of the +great current.</p> + +<p>So, these three years were notable for us all, especially +for our mother; for beside these vital interests, +she was entering upon another phase of development. +Heretofore her life had been domestic, studious, social; +her chief relation with the public had been through her +pen. She now felt the need of personal contact with +her audience; felt that she must speak her message. +She says in her "Reminiscences": "In the days of +which I now write, it was borne in upon me (as the +Friends say) that I had much to say to my day and +generation which could not and should not be communicated +in rhyme, or even in rhythm."</p> + +<p>The character of the message, too, was changing. +In the anguish of bereavement she sought relief in +study, her lifelong resource. Religion and philosophy +went hand in hand with her. She read Spinoza eagerly:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +read Fichte, Hegel, Schelling; finally, found in Immanuel +Kant a prophet and a friend. But it was +not enough for her to receive; she must also give out: +her nature was radiant. She must formulate a philosophy +of her own, and must at least offer it to the +world.</p> + +<p>In September, 1863, she writes to her sister Louisa, +"My Ethics are now the joke of my family, and Flossy +or any child, wishing a second helping, will say: 'Is it +ethical, Mamma?' Too much of my life, indeed, runs +in this channel. I can only hope that the things I write +may do good to somebody, how much or how little we +ourselves are unable to measure."</p> + +<p>Yet she could make fun of her philosophers: <i>vide</i> +the following passage from one of her "Tribune" letters:—</p> + +<p>"We like to make a clean cut occasionally, and distinguish +ourselves from our surroundings. Else, we +and they get so wedded that we scarcely know ourselves +apart. Do I own these four walls, or do they +own me, and detain me here for their pleasure and +preservation? Do I want these books, or do their +ghostly authors seize me wandering near the shelves, +impanel me by the button-hole, and insist upon pouring +their bottled-up wisdom into my passive mind? I once +read a terrible treatise of Fichte upon the <i>me and not +me</i>, in which he gave so many reasons why I could not +be the washstand, nor the washstand I, that I began +after a while to doubt the fact. Had I read further, I +think I should never have known myself from house-furniture +again. Let me here remark that many of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +these gymnastics of German metaphysics seem to have +no other office than that of harmlessly emptying the +brain of all its electricity. Their battery strikes no +hammer, turns no wheel. Fichte, having decided that +he was not the washstand, smoked, took beer, and +walked out to meet some philosophic friend, who, viewing +himself <i>inclusive</i>, as the Germans say, thought he +might be that among other things. Fatherland meantime +going to the Devil—strong hands wanted, clear, +practical brains,—infinitesimal oppression to be undermined, +the century helped on. 'I am not the washstand,' +says Fichte; 'I am everything,' says Hegel. +Fatherland, take care of yourself. Yet who shall say +that it is not a vital point to know our real selves from +the factitious personalities imposed upon us, and to +distinguish between the symptoms of our fancy and +the valid phenomena of our lives?"</p> + +<p>The Journal says:—</p> + +<p>"At 11.53 [September 24] finished my Essay on Religion, +for the power to produce which I thank God. +I believe that I have in this built up a greater coherence +between things natural and things divine than I +have seen or heard made out after this sort by anyone +else. I therefore rejoice over my work, ... hoping it +may be of service to others, as it has certainly been +to me."</p> + +<p>Two days later she adds, "I leave this record of my +opinion of my work, but on reading it aloud to Paddock,<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> +I found the execution of the task to have fallen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +far short of my conception of it. I shall try to rewrite +much of the Essay."</p> + +<p>The Journal of 1864 is a quarto volume, with a full +page for every day. There are many blank pages, but +the record is much fuller than heretofore.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 15.</i> Worked all the afternoon at my Essay +on Distinction between Philosophy and Religion. Got +a bad feeling from fatigue. A sort of trembling agony +in my back and left side."</p> + +<p>Yet she went to the opera in the evening, and saw +"Faust," a "composition with more faults than merits." +She concludes the entry with "<i>Dilige et relinque</i> +is a good motto for some things."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sunday, January 17.</i> It was announced from the +pulpit that an Essay on the Soul and Body would be +read by a friend at Wednesday evening meeting. That +friend was myself, that essay my Lecture on Duality. +This would be an honor, but for my ill-deserts. Be +witness, O God! that this is no imaginary or sentimental +exclamation, but a feeling too well founded +on fact."</p> + +<p>After the lecture she writes: "Mr. Clarke introduced +me charmingly. I wore my white cap, not wishing to +read in my thick bonnet. I had quite a full audience.... +I consider this opportunity a great honor and +privilege conferred upon me."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 28.</i> At a quarter before 2 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> finished +my Essay on Philosophy and Religion. I thank God +for this, for many infirmities, some physical, some +moral, have threatened to interrupt my work. It is +done, and if it is all I am to do, I am ready to die,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +since life now means work of my best sort, and I value +little else, except the comfort of my family. Now for a +little rest!"</p> + +<p>The "rest" of the following day consisted in paying +eight visits between twelve and two o'clock and going +to the opera in the evening.</p> + +<p>She now began to read her philosophical essays aloud +to a chosen circle of friends gathered in the parlor of +No. 13 Chestnut Street. After one of these occasions +she says: "Professor Rogers took me up sharply (not +in temper), on my first statement and definition of +Polarity. I suffered in this, but was bound to take it +in good part. A thoroughbred dog can bear to be +lifted by the ear without squealing. Endurance is a +test of breeding...."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 27, 1864.</i> My birthday; forty-five years old. +This year, begun in intolerable distress, has been, I +think, the most valuable one of my life. Paralyzed +at first by Sammy's death, I soon found my only refuge +from grief in increased activity after my kind. +When he died I had written two-thirds of 'Proteus.' +As soon as I was able, I wrote the remaining portion +which treats of affection. At Newport I wrote my +Introductory Lecture on 'How <i>Not</i> to Teach Ethics,' +then 'Duality of Character,' then my first Lecture +on Religion. Returned from Newport, I wrote my +second and third essays on Religion. I read the six +essays of my first course to a large circle of friends at +my own house, not asking any payment. This done, +I began to write a long essay on Polarity which is only +partially completed, intending also to write on Limitations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +and the three degrees, should it be given to me to +do so. I have read and re-read Spinoza's Ethics within +the last thirteen months. His method in the arrangement +of thought and motive has been of great use to +me, but I think that I have been able to give them an +extended application and some practical illustrations +which did not lie within his scope."</p> + +<p>The next day she writes: "Dreamed of dearest +Sammy. Thought that he was in the bed, and that I +was trying to nurse him in the dark as I have so often +done. I thought that when his little lips had found +my breast, something said in my ear, 'My life's life—the +glory of the world.' Quoting from my lines on +Mary Booth. This woke me with a sudden impression, +<i>Thus Nature remembers</i>."</p> + +<p>She decided this spring to read some of her essays +in Washington. There were various difficulties in the +way, and she was uncertain of the outcome of the enterprise. +She writes:—</p> + +<p>"I leave Bordentown [the home of her sister Annie] +with a resolute, not a sanguine heart. I have no one +to stand for me there, Sumner against me, Channing +almost unknown to me, everyone else indifferent. I go +in obedience to a deep and strong impulse which I do +not understand nor explain, but whose bidding I cannot +neglect. The satisfaction of having at last obeyed +this interior guide is all that keeps me up, for no one, +so far as I know, altogether approves of my going."</p> + +<p>Spite of these doubts and fears, the enterprise was +successful. Perhaps people were glad to shut their +ears for a moment to the sound of cannon and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +crying of "Latest news from the front!" and listen to +the quiet words of philosophic thought and suggestion.</p> + +<p>Side by side with work, as usual, went play. In +January she records the first meeting of the new club, +the "Ladies' Social," at the home of Mrs. Josiah +Quincy. This club of clever people, familiarly known +as the "Brain Club," was for many years one of her +great pleasures. Mrs. Quincy was its first president. +It may have been at this meeting that our mother, +being asked to present in a few words the nature and +object of the club, addressed the company as follows: +"Ladies and Gentlemen; this club has been formed +for the purpose of carrying on"—she paused, and +began to twinkle—"for the purpose of <i>carrying on</i>!"</p> + +<p>She describes briefly a meeting of the club at 13 +Chestnut Street:—</p> + +<p>"Entertained my Club with two charades. <i>Pan-demon-ium</i> +was the first, <i>Catastrophe</i> the second. For +<i>Pan</i> I recited some verses of Mrs. Browning's 'Dead +Pan,' with the gods she mentions in the background, +my own boy as Hermes. For 'Demon' I had a female +Faust and a female Satan. Was aided by Fanny McGregor, +Alice Howe, Hamilton Wilde, Charles Carroll, +and James C. Davis, with my Flossy, who looked +beautifully. The entertainment was voted an entire +success."</p> + +<p>We remember these charades well. The words</p> + +<p> +"Aphrodite, dead and driven<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As thy native foam thou art ... "</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>call up the vision of Fanny McGregor, white and beautiful,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +lying on a white couch in an attitude of perfect +grace.</p> + +<p>We hear our mother's voice reciting the stately +verses. We see her as the "female Faust," first bending +over her book, then listening entranced to the +promises of Mephistopheles, finally vanishing behind +a curtain from which the next instant sprang Florence +(the one child who resembled her) in all the gayety of +her bright youth.</p> + +<p>The next day she was, "Very weary all day. Put +things to rights as well as I could. Read in Spinoza, +Cotta, and Livy."</p> + +<p>It was for the Brain Club that she wrote "The Socio-Maniac," +a cantata caricaturing fashionable society. +She set the words to music, and sang with much solemnity +the "Mad Song" of the heroine whose brain +had been turned by too much gayety:—</p> + +<p> +"Her mother was a Shaw,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And her father was a Tompkins;</span><br /> +Her sister was a bore,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And her brother was a bumpkin;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh! Soci—oh! Soci—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh! Soci—e—ty!</span><br /> +<br /> +"Her flounces were of gold,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And her slippers were of ermine;</span><br /> +And she looked a little bold<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When she rose to lead the Germin;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh! Soci—oh! Soci—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh! Soci—e—ty!</span><br /> +<br /> +"For my part I never saw<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where she kept her fascination;</span><br /> +But I thought she had an aw-<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ful conceit and affectation;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh! Soci—oh! Soci—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh! Soci—e—ty!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>New interests were constantly arising. In these days +Edwin Booth made his first appearance in Boston. +Our mother and father went to the Boston Theatre +one rainy evening, "expecting to see nothing more +than an ordinary performance. The play was 'Richelieu,' +and we had seen but little of Mr. Booth's part +in it before we turned to each other and said, 'This +is the real thing!'"</p> + +<p>Then they saw him in "Hamlet" and realized even +more fully that a star had risen. He seemed</p> + +<p> +... beautiful as dreams of maidenhood,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That doubt defy,</span><br /> +Young Hamlet, with his forehead grief-subdued,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And visioning eye.<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Mr. Booth's manager asked her to write a play for +the young tragedian. She gladly consented; Booth +himself came to see her; she found him "modest, intelligent, +and above all genuine,—the man as worthy +of admiration as the artist."</p> + +<p>In all the range of classic fiction, to which her mind +naturally turned, no character seemed to fit him so +well as that of Hippolytus; his austere beauty, his +reserve and shyness, all seemed to her the personification +of the hunter-prince, beloved of Artemis, and +she chose this theme for her play.</p> + +<p>The writing of "Hippolytus" was accomplished +under difficulties. She says of it:—</p> + +<p>"I had at this time and for many years afterward +a superstition about a north light. My eyes had given +me some trouble, and I felt obliged to follow my literary +work under circumstances most favorable for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +their use. The exposure of our little farmhouse [at +Lawton's Valley] was south and west, and its only +north light was derived from a window at the top of +the attic stairs. Here was a platform just large enough +to give room for a table two feet square. The stairs +were shut off from the rest of the house by a stout door. +And here, through the summer heats, and in spite of +many wasps, I wrote my five-act drama, dreaming of +the fine emphasis which Mr. Booth would give to its +best passages and of the beautiful appearance he would +make in classic costume. He, meanwhile, was growing +into great fame and favor with the public, and was +called hither and thither by numerous engagements. +The period of his courtship and marriage<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> intervened, +and a number of years elapsed between the completion +of the play and his first reading of it."</p> + +<p>At last the time seemed ripe for the production +of the play. E. L. Davenport, the actor manager of the +Howard Athenæum, agreed to produce it: Charlotte +Cushman was to play Phædra to Booth's Hippolytus. +Rehearsals began, the author's dream seemed close +upon fulfilment. Then came a slip never fully explained: +the manager suddenly discovered that the +subject of the play was a painful one; other reasons +were given, but none that appeared sufficient to author +or actors.</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Miss Cushman, "if Edwin Booth +and I had done nothing more than stand upon the +stage and say 'good evening' to each other, the house +would have been filled."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>Briefly, the play was withdrawn. Our mother says: +"This was, I think, the greatest 'let down' that I +ever experienced. It affected me seriously for some +days, after which I determined to attempt nothing +more for the stage."</p> + +<p>She never forgot the play nor her bitter disappointment.</p> + +<p>Many memories cluster about the gracious figure of +Edwin Booth. He came often—for so shy and retiring +a man—to the Chestnut Street house. We children +all worshipped at his shrine; the elder girls worked his +initials on the under side of the chair in which he once +sat, which was thereafter like no other chair; the +younger ones gazed in round-eyed admiration, but +the great man had eyes for one only of us all. We gave +a party for him, and Beacon Street came in force to +meet the brilliant young actor. Alas! the brilliant +young actor, after the briefest and shyest of greetings +to the company, retired into a corner with eight-year-old +Maud, where he sat on the floor making dolls and +rabbits out of his pocket handkerchief!</p> + +<p>This recalls an oft-quoted anecdote of the time. +Our mother wished Charles Sumner to see and know +Booth. One evening when the Senator was at the +house, she told him of her wish. The next day she +writes in her Journal: "Sumner to tea. Made a rude +speech on being asked to meet Booth. Said: 'I don't +know that I should care to meet him. I have outlived +my interest in individuals.' Fortunately, God Almighty +had not, by last accounts, got so far."</p> + +<p>Sumner was told of this in her presence. "What a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +strange sort of book," he exclaimed, "your diary must +be! You ought to strike that out immediately."</p> + +<p>She admired Charles Sumner heartily, but they disagreed +on many points. He disapproved of women's +speaking in public (as did the Doctor), and—with +wholly kind intentions—did what he could to prevent +her giving the above-mentioned readings in +Washington. She notes this in her Journal.</p> + +<p>"I wrote him a very warm letter, but with no injurious +phrase, as I felt only grief and indignation, not +dis-esteem, towards him. Yet the fact of having written +the letter became extremely painful to me, when it +was once beyond recall. I could not help writing a +second on the day following, to apologize for the roughness +of the first. This was a diplomatic fault, I think, +but one inseparable from my character. C.S.'s reply, +which I dreaded to read, was very kind. While I +clearly saw his misapprehension of the whole matter, +I saw also the thorough kindliness and sincerity of his +nature. So we disagree, but I love him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sumner did not attend the readings, but he came +to see her, and was, as always, kind and friendly. After +seeing him in the Senate she writes: "Sumner looks +up and smiles. That smile seems to illuminate the +Senate."</p> + +<p>Another passage in the Journal of March, 1864, +is in a different note: "Maggie ill and company to +dinner. I washed breakfast things, cleared the table, +walked, read Spinoza a little, then had to 'fly round,' +as my dinner was an early one. Picked a grouse, and +saw to various matters. Company came, a little early.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +The room was cold. Hedge, Palfrey, and Alger to +dinner. Conversation pleasant, but dinner late, and +not well served. Palfrey and Hedge read Parker's +Latin epitaph on Chev, amazed at the bad Latinity."</p> + + +<p><br />In June, 1864, a Russian squadron, sent to show +Russia's good-will toward the United States, dropped +anchor in Boston Harbor, and hospitable Boston rose +up in haste to receive the strangers. Dr. Holmes +wrote a song beginning,—</p> + +<p> +"Seabirds of Muscovy,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rest in our waters,"—</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>which was sung to the Russian national air at a public +reception.</p> + +<p>Our mother for once made no "little verse," but she +saw a good deal of the Russian officers; gave parties +for them, and attended various functions and festivities +on board the ships. On Sunday, June 22, she +writes:—</p> + +<p>"To mass on board the Oslaba.... The service was +like the Armenian Easter I saw in Rome.... It is a +sacrifice to God instead of a lesson from Him, which +after all makes the difference between the old religions +and the true Christian. For even Judaism is +heathen compared with Christianity. Yet I found this +very consoling, as filling out the verities of religious +development. I seemed to hear in the responses a great +harmony in which the first man had the extreme bass +and the last born babe the extreme treble. Theo. +Parker and my dear Sammy were blended in it."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>Soon after this the "seabirds of Muscovy" departed; +then came the flitting to Newport, and a summer of +steady work.</p> + +<p>"Read Paul in the Valley. Thought of writing a +review of his first two epistles from the point of view +of the common understanding. The clumsy Western +mind has made such literal and material interpretations +of the Oriental finesses of the New Testament, +that the present coarse and monstrous beliefs, so far +behind the philosophical, æsthetic, and natural culture +of the age, is imposed by the authority of the few +upon the ignorance of the many, and stands a monument +of the stupidity of all.</p> + +<p>"Paul's views of the natural man are, inevitably, +much colored by the current bestiality of the period. +To apply his expressions to the innocent and inevitable +course of Nature is coarse, unjust, and demoralizing, +because confusing to the moral sense."</p> + +<p>"I came to the conclusion to-day that an heroic intention +is not to be kept in sight without much endeavor. +Now that I have finished at least one portion +of my Ethics and Dynamics, I find myself thinking +how to get just credit for it, rather than how to make +my work most useful to others. The latter must, however, +be my object, and shall be. Did not Chev so discourage +it, I should feel bound to give these lectures +publicly, being, as they are, a work for the public. I +do not as yet decide what to do with them."</p> + +<p>Returning to 13 Chestnut Street, she found a multiplicity +of work awaiting her. Ethics had to stand aside +and make way for Poetry and Philanthropy. New<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +York was to celebrate the seventieth birthday of William +Cullen Bryant; she was asked to write a poem for +the occasion. This she did joyfully, composing and +arranging the stanzas mostly in the train between +Newport and Boston.</p> + +<p>On the day of the celebration, she took an early +train for New York: Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes was +on the train. "I will sit by you, Mrs. Howe," he said, +"but I must not talk! I am going to read a poem at +the Bryant celebration, and must save my voice."</p> + +<p>"By all means let us keep silent," she replied. "I also +have a poem to read at the Bryant Celebration."</p> + +<p>Describing this scene she says, "The dear Doctor, +always my friend, overestimated his power of abstinence +from the interchange of thought which was so +congenial to him. He at once launched forth in his +own brilliant vein, and we were within a few miles of +our destination when we suddenly remembered that +we had not taken time to eat our luncheon."</p> + +<p>George Bancroft met them at the station, carried +her trunk himself ("a small one!"), and put her into his +own carriage. The reception was in the Century Building. +She entered on Mr. Bryant's arm, and sat between +him and Mr. Bancroft on the platform. The +Journal tells us:—</p> + +<p>"After Mr. Emerson's remarks my poem was announced. +I stepped to the middle of the platform, and +read my poem. I was full of it, and read it well, I +think, as every one heard me, and the large room +was crammed. The last two verses—not the best—were +applauded.... This was, I suppose, the greatest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +public honor of my life. I record it for my grandchildren."</p> + +<p>The November pages of the Journal are blank, but +on that for November 21 is pasted a significant note. +It is from the secretary of the National Sailors' Fair, +and conveys the thanks of the Board of Managers to +Mrs. Howe "for her great industry and labor in editing +the 'Boatswain's Whistle.'"</p> + +<p>Neither Journal nor "Reminiscences" has one word +to say about fair or paper; yet both were notable. The +great war-time fairs were far more than a device for +raising money. They were festivals of patriotism; people +bought and sold with a kind of sacred ardor. This +fair was Boston's contribution toward the National +Sailors' Home. It was held in the Boston Theatre, +which for a week was transformed into a wonderful +hive of varicolored bees, all "workers," all humming +and hurrying. The "Boatswain's Whistle" was the +organ of the fair. There were ten numbers of the +paper: it lies before us now, a small folio volume of +eighty pages.</p> + +<p>Title and management are indicated at the top of +the first column:—</p> +<p><span class="smcap"> The Boatswain's Whistle.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">————————</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Editorial Council.</span><br /> +<br /> +Edward Everett. A. P. Peabody.<br /> +<br /> +John G. Whittier. J. R. Lowell.<br /> +<br /> +O. W. Holmes. E. P. Whipple.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">————————</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Editor.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Julia Ward Howe.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>Each member of the Council made at least one contribution +to the paper; but the burden fell on the Editor's +shoulders. She worked day and night; no wonder +that the pages of the Journal are blank. Beside +the editorials and many other unsigned articles, she +wrote a serial story, "The Journal of a Fancy Fair," +which brings back vividly the scene it describes. In +those days the raffle was not discredited. Few people +realized that it was a crude form of gambling; clergy +and laity alike raffled merrily. Our mother, however, +in her story speaks through the lips of her hero a +pungent word on the subject:—</p> + +<p>"The raffle business is, I suppose, the great humbug +of occasions of this kind. It seems to me very +much like taking a front tooth from a certain number +of persons in order to make up a set of teeth for a +party who wants it and who does not want to pay +for it."</p> + +<p>We should like to linger over the pages of the "Boatswain's +Whistle"; to quote from James Freeman +Clarke's witty dialogues, Edward Everett's stately +periods, Dr. Holmes's sparkling verse; to describe +General Grant, the prize ox, white as driven snow and +weighing 3900 pounds, presented by the owner to +President Lincoln and by him to the fair. Did we not +see him drawn in triumph through Boston streets on +an open car, and realize in an instant—fresh from +our "Wonder-Book"—what Europa's bull looked +like?</p> + +<p>But of all the treasures of the little paper, we must +content ourselves with this dispatch:—</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>Allow me to wish you a great success. With the old +fame of the navy made bright by the present war, you +cannot fail. I name none lest I wrong others by omission. +To all, from Rear Admiral to honest Jack, I tender +the nation's admiration and gratitude.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">A. Lincoln.</span> +</div></blockquote> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE WIDER OUTLOOK</h3> + +<h4>1865; <i>aet.</i> 46</h4> + +<p>THE WORD</p> + +<p> +Had I one of thy words, my Master,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a spirit and tone of thine,</span><br /> +I would run to the farthest Indies<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To scatter the joy divine.</span><br /> +<br /> +I would waken the frozen ocean<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a billowy burst of joy:</span><br /> +Stir the ships at their grim ice-moorings<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The summer passes by.</span><br /> +<br /> +I would enter court and hovel,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Forgetful of mien or dress,</span><br /> +With a treasure that all should ask for,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">An errand that all should bless.</span><br /> +<br /> +I seek for thy words, my Master,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a spelling vexed and slow:</span><br /> +With scanty illuminations<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In an alphabet of woe.</span><br /> +<br /> +But while I am searching, scanning<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A lesson none ask to hear,</span><br /> +My life writeth out thy sentence<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Divinely just and dear.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />The war was nearly over, and all hearts were with +Grant and Lee in their long duel before Richmond. +Patriotism and philosophy together ruled our mother's +life in these days; the former more apparent in her +daily walk among us, the latter in the quiet hours with +her Journal.</p> + +<p>The Journal for 1865 is much fuller than that of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +1864; the record of events is more regular, and we find +more and more reflection, meditation, and speculation. +The influence of Kant is apparent; the entries become +largely notes of study, to take final shape in lectures +and essays.</p> + +<p>"A morning visit received in study hours is a sickness +from which the day does not recover. I can neither +afford to be idle, nor to have friends who are so."</p> + +<p>"Man is impelled by inward force, regulated by outward +circumstance. He is inspired from within, moralized +from without.... A man may be devout in himself, +but he can be moral only in his relation with other +men...."</p> + +<p>"Early to Mary Dorr's, to consult about the Charade. +Read Kant and wrote as usual. Spent the afternoon +in getting up my costumes for the Charade. +The word was Au-thor-ship.... Authorship was expressed +by my appearing as a great composer, Jerry +Abbott performing my Oratorio—a very comical +thing, indeed. The whole was a success."</p> + +<p>No one who saw the "Oratorio" can forget it. Mr. +Abbott, our neighbor in Chestnut Street, was a comedian +who would have adorned any stage. The "book" +of the Oratorio was a simple rhyme of Boston authorship.</p> + +<p> +"Abigail Lord,<br /> +Of her own accord,<br /> +Went down to see her sister,<br /> +When Jason Lee,<br /> +As brisk as a flea,<br /> +He hopped right up and kissed her."<br /> +</p> + +<p>With these words, an umbrella, and a chair held before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +him like a violoncello, Mr. Abbott gave a truly +Handelian performance. Fugue and counterpoint, first +violin and bass tuba, solo and full chorus, all were rendered +with a <i>verve</i> and spirit which sent the audience +into convulsions of laughter.—This was one of the +"carryings-on" of the Brain Club. After another such +occasion our mother writes:—</p> + +<p>"Very weary and aching a little. I must keep out of +these tomfooleries, though they have their uses. They +are much better than some other social entertainments, +as after all they present some æsthetic points of interest. +They are better than scandal, gluttony, or wild +dancing. But the artists and I have still better things +to do."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 23.</i> It is always legitimate to wish to rise +above one's self, never above others. In this, however, +as in other things, we must remember the maxim: +'<i>Natura nil facit per saltum</i>.' All true rising must be +gradual and laborious, in such wise that the men of to-morrow +shall look down almost imperceptibly upon the +men of to-day. All sudden elevations are either imaginary +or factitious. If you had not a kingly mind before +your coronation, no crown will make a king of you. The +true king is somewhere, starving or hiding, very like. +For the true value which the counterfeit represents +exists somewhere. The world has much dodging about +to produce the real value and escape the false one."</p> + +<p>Throughout the Journal, we find a revelation of the +conflict in this strangely dual nature. Her study was, +she thought, her true home; yet no one who saw her in +society would have dreamed that she was making an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +effort: <i>nor was she</i>! She gave herself up entirely to +the work or the play of the hour. She was a many-sided +crystal: every aspect of life met its answering +flash. The glow of human intercourse kindled her to +flame; but when the flame had cooled, the need of +solitude and study lay on her with twofold poignancy. +She went through life in double harness, thought and +feeling abreast; though often torn between the two, +in the main she gave free rein to both, trusting the +issue to God.</p> + +<p>The winter of 1864-65 was an arduous one. She +was writing new philosophical essays, and reading +them before various circles of friends. The larger audience +which she craved was not for the moment attainable. +She was studying deeply, reading Latin by +way of relaxation, going somewhat into society (Julia +and Florence being now of the dancing age), and entertaining +a good deal in a quiet way. In February she +writes: "Much tormented by interruptions. Could not +get five quiet minutes at a time. Everybody torments +me with every smallest errand. And I am trying to +study philosophy!"</p> + +<p>Probably we were troublesome children and made +more noise than we should. Her accurate ear for music +was often a source of distress to her, as one of us can +witness, an indolent child who neglected her practising. +As this child drummed over her scales, the door of the +upstairs study would open, and a clear voice come ringing +down, "<i>B flat</i>, dear, <i>not</i> B natural!"</p> + +<p>It seemed to the child a miracle; she, with the book +before her, could not get it right: "Mamma," studying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +Kant upstairs behind closed doors, knew what the note +should be.</p> + +<p>"Few of us consider the wide and laborious significance +of the simplest formulas we employ. 'I love +you!' opens out a long vista of labor and endeavor; +otherwise it means: 'I love myself and need you.'..."</p> + +<p>"Played all last evening for Laura's company to +dance. My heart flutters to-day. It is a feeling unknown +to me until lately."</p> + +<p>Now, Laura would have gone barefoot in snow to +save her mother pain or fatigue; yet she has no recollection +of ever questioning the inevitability of "Mamma's" +playing for all youthful dancing. Grown-up +parties were different; for them there were hired musicians, +who made inferior music; but for the frolics of +the early 'teens, who <i>should</i> play except "Mamma"?</p> + +<p>On March 10, she writes: "I have now been too long +in my study. I must break out into real life, and learn +some more of its lessons."</p> + +<p>Two days later a lesson began: "I stay from church +to-day to take care of Maud, who is quite unwell. +This is a sacrifice, although I am bound and glad +to make it. But I shall miss the church all the +week."</p> + +<p>The child became so ill that "all pursuits had to be +given up in the care of her." The Journal gives a minute +account of this illness, and of the remedies used, +among them "long-continued and gentle friction with +the hand." The words bring back the touch of her +hand, which was like no other. There were no trained +nurses in our nursery, rarely any doctor save "Papa,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +but "Mamma" rubbed us, and that was a whole +pharmacopœia in itself.</p> + +<p>At this time she gave her first public lecture before +the Parker Fraternity. This was an important event +to her; she had earnestly desired yet greatly dreaded +it. She found the hall pleasant, the audience attentive. +"When I came to read the lecture," she says, "I felt +that it had a value."</p> + +<p>"All these things in my mind point one way, viz.: +towards the adoption of a profession of Ethical exposition, +after my sort."</p> + +<p>She had been asked to give a lecture at Tufts College, +and says of this: "The difficulties are great, the +question is to me one of simple duty. If I am sent for, +and have the word to say, I should say it."</p> + +<p>And again: "I determine that I can only be good in +fulfilling my highest function—all else implies waste +of power, leading to demoralization."</p> + +<p>She declined the invitation, "feeling unable to decide +in favor of accepting it."</p> + +<p>"But I was sorry," she says, "and I remembered +the words: 'He that hath put his hand to the plough +and looketh back is not fit for the kingdom of heaven.' +God keep me from so looking back!"</p> + +<p>The Journal of this spring is largely devoted to +philosophic speculations and commentaries on Kant, +whose theories she finds more and more luminous and +convincing; now and then comes a note of her own:—</p> + +<p>"'I am God!' says the fool. 'I see God!' says the +wise man. For while you are your own supreme, you +are your own God, and self-worship is true atheism."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>"It is better to use a bad man by his better side +than a good man by his worse side."</p> + +<p>"Christ said that he was older than Abraham. I +think that he used this expression as a measure of +value. His thoughts were further back in the primal +Ideal necessity. He did not speak of any personal life +antedating his own existence.... In his own sense, +Christ was also newer than we are, for his doctrine is +still beyond the attainment of all and the appreciation +of most of us."</p> + +<p>"There is no essential religious element in negation."</p> + +<p>"Saw Booth in 'Hamlet'—still first-rate, I think, +although he has played it one hundred nights in New +York. 'Hamlet' is an æsthetic Evangel. I know of +no direct ethical work which contains such powerful +moral illustration and instruction."</p> + +<p>"James Freeman [Clarke] does not think much of +Sam's book, probably not as well as it deserves. But +the knowledge of Sam's personality is the light behind +the transparency in all that he does."<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a></p> + +<p>These were the closing months of the Civil War. All +hearts were lifted up in thankfulness that the end +was near. She speaks of it seldom, but her few words +are significant.</p> + +<p>"<i>Monday, April 3....</i> Richmond was taken this +morning. <i>Laus Deo!</i>"</p> + +<p>On April 10, after "Maud's boots, $3.00, Vegetables, +.12, Bread, .04," we read, "Ribbons for victory, .40. +To-day we have the news of Lee's surrender with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +whole remnant of his army. The city is alive with +people. All flags hung out—shop windows decorated—processions +in the street. All friends meet and +shake hands. On the newspaper bulletins such placards +as '<i>Gloria in excelsis Deo</i>,' 'Thanks be to God!' +We all call it the greatest day of our lives.</p> + +<p>"Apples, half-peck, .50."</p> + +<p>That week was one of joy and thankfulness for all. +Thursday was Fast Day; she "went to church to +fatigue Satan. Afterwards made a visit to Mrs. —— +who did not seem to have tired her devil out."</p> + +<p>The joy bells were soon to be silenced. Saturday, +April 15, was</p> + +<p>"A black day in history, though outwardly most +fair. President Lincoln was assassinated in his box +at the theatre, last evening, by J. Wilkes Booth. This +atrocious act, which was consummated in a very theatrical +manner, is enough to ruin not the Booth family +alone, but the theatrical profession. Since my Sammy's +death, nothing has happened that has given me so +much personal pain as this event. The city is paralyzed. +But we can only work on, and trust in +God."</p> + +<p>Our father's face of tragedy, the anguish in his voice, +as he called us down to hear the news, come vividly +before us to-day, one of the clearest impressions of +our youth. Our mother went with him next day to +hear Governor Andrew's official announcement of the +murder to the Legislature, and heard with deep emotion +his quotation from "Macbeth":—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">"Besides, this Duncan</span><br /> +Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been<br /> +So clear in his great office, that his virtues<br /> +Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against<br /> +The deep damnation of his taking-off," etc.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Wednesday, April 19, was:—</p> + +<p>"The day of President Lincoln's funeral. A sad, +disconnected day. I could not work, but strolled +around to see the houses, variously draped in black +and white. Went to Bartol's church, not knowing of +a service at our own. Bartol's remarks were tender and +pathetic. I was pleased to have heard them.</p> + +<p>"Wrote some verses about the President—pretty +good, perhaps,—scratching the last nearly in the +dark, just before bedtime."</p> + +<p>This is the poem called "Parricide." It begins:—</p> + +<p> +O'er the warrior gauntlet grim<br /> +Late the silken glove we drew.<br /> +Bade the watch-fires slacken dim<br /> +In the dawn's auspicious hue.<br /> +Staid the armèd heel;<br /> +Still the clanging steel;<br /> +Joys unwonted thrilled the silence through.<br /> +</p> + +<p>On April 27 she "heard of Wilkes Booth's death—shot +on refusing to give himself up—the best thing +that could have happened to himself and his family"; +and wrote a second poem entitled "Pardon," embodying +her second and permanent thought on the subject:</p> + +<blockquote><p> +Pains the sharp sentence the heart in whose wrath it was uttered,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">Now thou art cold;</span><br /> +Vengeance, the headlong, and Justice, with purpose close muttered,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">Loosen their hold, etc.</span><br /> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Brief entries note the closing events of the war.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>"<i>May 13.</i> Worked much on Essay.... In the +evening said to Laura: 'Jeff Davis will be taken to-morrow.' +Was so strongly impressed with the thought +that I wanted to say it to Chev, but thought it was too +silly."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 14.</i> The first thing I heard in the morning +was the news of the capture of Jeff Davis. This made +me think of my preluding the night before...."</p> + + +<p><br />Other things beside essays demanded work in these +days. The great struggle was now over, and with it +the long strain on heart and nerve, culminating in the +tragic emotion of the past weeks. The inevitable reaction +set in. Her whole nature cried out for play, and +play meant work.</p> + +<p>"Working all day for the Girls' Party, to-morrow +evening. Got only a very short reading of Kant, and +of Tyndall. Tea with the Bartols. Talk with [E. P.] +Whipple, who furiously attacked Tacitus. Bartol and +I, who know a good deal more about him, made a +strong fight in his behalf."</p> + +<p>"Working all day for the Party. The lists of men +and women accepting and declining were balanced by +my daughter F. with amusing anxiety.... The two +sexes are now neck and neck. Dear little Maud was +in high glee over every male acceptance. Out of all +this hubbub got a precious forty-five minutes with +Kant...."</p> + +<p>The party proved "very gay and pleasant."</p> + +<p>Now came a more important event: the Musical +Festival celebrating the close of the war, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +was given by the Handel and Haydn Society, at its +semi-centennial, in May, 1865. Our mother sang alto +in the chorus. The Journal records daily, sometimes +semi-daily, rehearsals and performances, Kant +squeezed to the wall, and getting with difficulty his +daily hour or half-hour. Mendelssohn's "Hymn of +Praise" and "Elijah"; Haydn's "Creation," Handel's +"Messiah" and "Israel in Egypt"; she sang in +them all.</p> + +<p>Here is a sample Festival day:—</p> + +<p>"Attended morning rehearsal, afternoon concert, +and sang in the evening. We gave 'Israel in Egypt' +and Mendelssohn's 'Hymn of Praise.' I got a short +reading of Kant, which helped me through the day. +But so much music is more than human nerves can +respond to with pleasure. This confirms my belief in +the limited power of our sensibilities in the direction +of pure enjoyment. The singing in the choruses fatigues +me less than hearing so many things."</p> + +<p>After describing the glorious final performance of +the "Messiah," she writes:—</p> + +<p>"So farewell, delightful Festival! I little thought +what a week of youth was in store for me. For these +things carried me back to my early years, and their +passion for music. I remembered the wholeness with +which I used to give myself up to the concerts and +oratorios in New York, and the intense reaction of +melancholy which always followed these occasions."</p> + +<p>And the next day:—</p> + +<p>"Still mourning the Festival a little. If I had kept +up my music as I intended, in my early youth, I should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +never have done what I have done—should never +have studied philosophy, nor written what I have +written. My life would have been more natural and +passionate, but I think less valuable. Yet I cannot +but regret the privation of this element in which I +have lived for years. But I do believe that music is +the most expensive of the fine arts. It uses up the +whole man more than the other arts do, and builds +him up less. It is more passional, less intellectual, than +the other arts. Its mastery is simple and absolute, +while that of the other arts is so complex as to involve +a larger sphere of thought and reflection. I have observed +the faces of this orchestra just disbanded. Their +average is considerably above the ordinary one. But +they have probably more talent than thought."</p> + +<p>On May 31 we find a significant entry. The evening +before she had attended the Unitarian Convention, and +"heard much tolerable speaking, but nothing of any +special value or importance." She now writes:—</p> + +<p>"I really suffered last evening from the crowd of +things which I wished to say, and which, at one word +of command, would have flashed into life and, I think, +into eloquence. It is by a fine use of natural logic that +the Quaker denomination allows women to speak, +under the pressure of religious conviction. 'In Christ +Jesus there is neither male nor female,' is a good +sentence. Paul did not carry this out in his church +discipline, yet, one sees, he felt it in his religious contemplation. +I feel that a woman's whole moral +responsibility is lowered by the fact that she must +never obey a transcendent command of conscience.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +Man can give her nothing to take the place of this. It +is the <i>divine</i> right of the human soul."</p> + +<p>The fatigue and excitement of the Festival had to +be paid for: the inevitable reaction set in.</p> + +<p>"<i>June 3.</i> Decidedly I have spleen in these days. +Throughout my whole body, I feel a mingled restlessness +and feebleness, as if the nerves were irritated, and +the muscles powerless. I feel puzzled, too, about the +worth of what I have been doing for nearly three years +past. There is no one to help me in these matters. I +determine still to work on and hope on. Much of the +work of every life is done in the dark."</p> + +<p>Again: "Spleen to-day, and utter discouragement. +The wind is east, and this gives me the strange feeling, +described before, of restlessness and powerlessness. My +literary affairs are in a very confused state. I have no +market. This troubles me.... God keep me from falling +away from my purpose, to do only what seems to +me necessary and called for in my vocation, and not to +produce for money, praise, or amusement."</p> + +<p>"Was melancholy and Godless all day, having +taken my volume of Kant back to the Athenæum for +the yearly rearrangement. Could not interest myself +in anything.... Visited old Mrs. Sumner,<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> whose +chariot and horses are nearly ready."</p> + +<p>At this time there was some question of selling +Lawton's Valley for economic reasons. The exigency +passed, but the following words show the depth of her +feeling on the subject: "If I have any true philosophy, +any sincere religion, these must support me under the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +privation of the Valley. I feel this, and resolve to do +well, but nature will suffer. That place has been my +confidante,—my bosom friend,—intimate to me +as no human being ever will be—dear and comforting +also to my children...."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 11....</i> Thought of a good text for a sermon, +'In the world ye shall have tribulation,' the scope being +to show that our tribulation, if we try to do well, is +in the world, our refuge and comfort in the church. +Thought of starting a society in Newport for the practice +of sacred music, availing ourselves of the summer +musicians and the possible aid of such ladies as Miss +Reed, etc., for solos. Such an enterprise would be +humanizing, and would supply a better object than the +empty reunions of fashion...."</p> + +<p>"<i>Wednesday, June 21.</i> Attended the meeting at +Faneuil Hall, for the consideration of reconstruction +of the Southern States. Dana made a statement to +the effect that voting was a civic, not a natural, right, +and built up the propriety of negro suffrage on the +basis first of military right, then of duty to the negro, +this being the only mode of enabling him to protect +himself against his late master. His treatment was +intended to be exhaustive, and was able, though cold +and conceited. Beecher tumbled up on the platform +immediately after, not having heard him, knocked +the whole question to pieces with his great democratic +power, his humor, his passion, and his magnetism. It +was Nature after Art, and his nature is much greater +than Dana's art."</p> + +<p>A few days after this she writes: "... Sumner in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +the evening—a long and pleasant visit. He is a very +sweet-hearted man, and does not grow old."</p> + +<p>The Musical Festival had not yet exacted full arrears +of payment; she was too weary even to enjoy the +Valley at first; but after a few days of its beloved seclusion +she shook off fatigue and was herself again, +reading Kant and Livy, teaching the children, and +gathering mussels on the beach.</p> + +<p>She flits up to town to see the new statue of Horace +Mann, "in order to criticise it for Chev's pamphlet";<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> +meets William Hunt, who praises its simplicity and +parental character; and Charles Sumner, who tells +her it looks better on a nearer view.</p> + +<p>The day after—"we abode in the Valley, when three +detachments of company tumbled in upon us, to wit, +Colonel Higginson and Mrs. McKay, the Tweedys +and John Field, and the Gulstons. All were friendly. +Only on my speaking of the rudeness occasionally +shown me by a certain lady, Mrs. Tweedy said: 'But +that was in the presence of your superiors, was it not?' +I replied: 'I do not know that I was ever in Mrs. X.'s +company under those circumstances!' After which +we all laughed."</p> + +<p>She was at this time sitting to Miss Margaret Foley +for a portrait medallion and was writing philosophy +and poetry. Family and household matters also +claimed their share of attention.</p> + +<p>"Finished reading over 'Polarity' [her essay]. Reading +to the children, 'Foxes have holes, and birds of the +air have nests, but the Son of Man hath not where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +to lay his head'—my little Maud's eyes filled with +tears."</p> + +<p>"Much worried by want of preparedness for today's +picnic. Managed to get up three chickens killed +on short notice, a pan of excellent gingerbread, two +cans of peaches, and a little bread and butter. Went +in the express wagon.... At the picnic I repeated my +Cambridge poem, ... and read 'Amanda's Inventory' +and my long poem on Lincoln's death.... Duty depends +on an objective, happiness upon a subjective, +sense. The first is capable of a general and particular +definition, the second is not."</p> + +<p>"In the afternoon mended Harry's shirt, finished +Maud's skirt, read Livy and Tyndall, and played +croquet, which made me very cross."</p> + +<p>"Exhumed my French story and began its termination. +Mended a sheet badly torn."</p> + +<p>After a long list of purchases—</p> + +<p>"Worked like a dog all day. Went in town, running +about to pick up all the articles above mentioned.... +Came home—cut bread and butter and spread sandwiches +till just within time to slip off one dress and +slip on another. My company was most pleasant, +and more numerous than I had anticipated...."</p> + +<p>"Legal right is the universal compulsion which secures +universal liberty."</p> + +<p>"I feel quite disheartened when I compare this summer +with the last. I was so happy and hopeful in +writing my three Essays and thought they should open +such a vista of usefulness to me, and of good to others. +But the opposition of my family has made it almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +impossible for me to make the use intended of them. +My health has not allowed me to continue to produce +so much. I feel saddened and doubtful of the value of +what I have done or can do...."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 23....</i> Rights and duties are inseparable +in human beings. God has rights without duties. Men +have rights and duties. If a slave have not rights, he +also has not duties...."</p> + +<p>"With the girls to a matinée at Bellevue Hall. They +danced and I was happy."</p> + +<p>"My croquet party kept me busy all day. It was +pleasant enough...."</p> + +<p>"... 'My peace I give unto you' is a wonderful +saying. What peace have most of us to give each other? +But Christ has given peace to the world, peace at +least as an ideal object, to be ever sought, though +never fully attained."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 10....</i> Read Kant on state rights. +According to him, wars of conquest are allowable only +in a state of nature, not in a state of peace (which is +not to be attained without a compact whose necessity +is supreme and whose obligations are sacred). So +Napoleon's crusade against the constituted authority +of the European republic was without logical justification,—which +accounts for the speedy downfall of +his empire. What he accomplished had only the subjective +justification of his genius and his ambition. +His work was of great indirect use in sweeping away +certain barriers of usage and of superstition. He drew a +picture of government on a large scale and thus set a +pattern which inevitably enlarged the procedures of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +successors, who lost through him the prestige of divine +right and of absolute power. But the inadequacy of +his object showed itself through the affluence of his +genius. The universal dominion of the Napoleon family +was not to be desired or endured by the civilized +world at large. The tortoise in the end overtook the +hare, and slow, plodding Justice, with her loyal hack, +distanced splendid Ambition mounted on first-rate +ability, once and forever...."</p> + +<p>"To Zion church, to hear —— preach. Text, 'Son, +remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy +good things.' Sermon as far removed from it as +possible, weak, sentimental, and illiterate. He left +out the 'd' in 'receivedst,' and committed other errors +in pronunciation. But to sit with the two aunts<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> in +the old church, so familiar to my childhood, was touching +and impressive. Hither my father was careful to +bring us. Imperfect as his doctrine now appears to +me, he looks down upon me from the height of a better +life than mine, and still appears to me as my +superior."</p> + +<p>"A little nervous about my reading. Reached Mrs. +[Richard] Hunt's at twelve. Saw the sweet little +boy. Mrs. Hunt very kind and cordial. At one Mr. +Hunt led me to the studio which I found well filled, +my two aunts in the front row, to my great surprise; +Bancroft, too, quite near me. I shortened the essay +somewhat. It was well heard and received. Afterwards +I read my poem called 'Philosophy,' and was +urged to recite my 'Battle Hymn,' which I did. I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +much gratified by the kind reception I met with and +the sight of many friends of my youth. A most pleasant +lunch afterwards at Mrs. Hunt's, with Tweedys, +Tuckermans, and Laura."</p> + +<p>"I see no outlook before me. So many fields for +activity, but for passivity, which seems incumbent +upon me, only uselessness, obscurity, deterioration. +Some effort I must make."</p> + +<p>Many efforts were impending, though not precisely +in the direction contemplated. First, a new abode +must be found for the winter, as the owners of 13 +Chestnut Street claimed it for themselves. She and +the Doctor added house-hunting to their other burdens, +and found it a heavy one. On October 6 she +writes:—</p> + +<p>"Much excited about plans and prospects. Chev +has bought the house in Boylston Place.<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> God grant +it may be for the best. Determine to have classes +in philosophy, and to ask a reasonable price for my +tickets....</p> + +<p>"The Sunday's devotion without the week's thought +and use is a spire without a meeting-house. It leaps +upward, but crowns and covers nothing.</p> + +<p>"I have too often set down the moral weight I have +to carry, and frisked around it. But the voice now tells +me that I must bear it to the end, or lose it forever."</p> + +<p>The move to Boylston Place was in November. +Early in the month a "frisking" took place, with +amusing results. Our mother went with Governor +and Mrs. Andrew and a gay party to Barnstable for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +annual festival and ball. The Ancient and Honorable +Artillery Company acted as escort, and—according +to custom—the band of the Company furnished the +music. For some reason—the townspeople thought +because the pretty girls were all engaged beforehand +for the dance—the officer in command stopped the +music at twelve o'clock, to the great distress of the +Barnstable people who had ordered their carriages +at two or later. The party broke up in disorder far +from "admired," and our mother crystallized the +general feeling in the following verses, which the +Barnstableites promptly printed in a "broadside," +and sang to the then popular tune of "Lanigan's +Ball":—</p> + + +<p>THE BARNSTABLE BALL</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Lyric</span></p> + +<p>(<i>Appointed to be sung in all Social Meetings on the Cape</i>)</p> + +<p> +March away with your old artillery;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Don't come back till we give you a call.</span><br /> +Put your Colonel into the pillory;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He broke up the Barnstable Ball.</span><br /> +<br /> +Country folks don't go a-pleasuring<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Every day, as it doth befall;</span><br /> +They with deepest scorn are measuring<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Him who broke up the Barnstable Ball.</span><br /> +<br /> +He came down with his motley company,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stalking round the 'cultural hall;</span><br /> +Couldn't find a partner to jump any,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So broke up the Barnstable Ball.</span><br /> +<br /> +Warn't it enough with their smoking and thundering,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sweeping about like leaves in a squall,</span><br /> +But they must take to theft and plundering,—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Steal the half of the Barnstable Ball?</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>Put the music into their pocket,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Order the figure-man not to bawl,</span><br /> +Twenty jigs were still on the docket,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When they adjourned the Barnstable Ball.</span><br /> +<br /> +Gov'nor A. won't hang for homicide,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That's a point that bothers us all;</span><br /> +He must banish ever from his side<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such as murdered the Barnstable Ball.</span><br /> +<br /> +When they're old and draw'd with rheumatiz,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let them say to their grandbabes small,</span><br /> +"Deary me, what a shadow of gloom it is<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To remember the Barnstable Ball!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>This autumn saw the preparation of a new volume +of poems, "Later Lyrics." Years had passed since the +appearance of "Words for the Hour," and our mother +had a great accumulation of poems, the arrangement +of which proved a heavy task.</p> + +<p>"The labor of looking over the manuscript nearly +made me ill.... Had a new bad feeling of intense +pressure in the right temple."</p> + +<p>And again:—</p> + +<p>"Nearly disabled by headaches.... Determine to +push on with my volume."</p> + +<p>"Almost distracted with work of various sorts—my +book—the new house—this one full of company, +and a small party in the evening."</p> + +<p>"All these days much hurried by proofs. Went in +the evening to the opening of the new wards in the +Women's Hospital—read two short poems, according +to promise. These were kindly received...."</p> + +<p>The next day she went with a party of friends to +the Boys' Reform School at Westboro. "In the yard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +where the boys were collected, the guests were introduced. +Quite a number crowded to see the Author of +the 'Battle Hymn.' Two or three said to me: 'Are +you the woman that wrote that "Battle Hymn"?' +When I told them that I was, they seemed much +pleased. This I felt to be a great honor."</p> + +<p>The next day again she is harassed with correcting +proofs and furnishing copy. "Ran to Bartol for a little +help, which he gave me."</p> + +<p>The Reverend C. A. Bartol was our next-door neighbor +in Chestnut Street, a most kind and friendly one. +His venerable figure, wrapped in a wide cloak, walking +always in the middle of the road (we never knew why +he eschewed the sidewalk), is one of the pleasant memories +of Chestnut Street. We were now to leave that +beloved street; a sorrowful flitting it was.</p> + +<p>"<i>Friday, November 3.</i> Moving all day. This is my +last writing in this dear house, No. 13 Chestnut Street, +where I have had three years of good work, social and +family enjoyment. Here I enjoyed my dear Sammy +for six happy months—here I mourned long and bitterly +for him. Here I read my six lectures on Practical +Ethics. Some of my best days have been passed in +this house. God be thanked for the same!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>NO. 19 BOYLSTON PLACE: "LATER LYRICS"</h3> + +<h4>1866; <i>aet.</i> 47</h4> + +<p>IN MY VALLEY</p> + +<p> +From the hurried city fleeing,<br /> +From the dusty men and ways,<br /> +In my golden sheltered valley,<br /> +Count I yet some sunny days.<br /> +<br /> +Golden, for the ripened Autumn<br /> +Kindles there its yellow blaze;<br /> +And the fiery sunshine haunts it<br /> +Like a ghost of summer days.<br /> +<br /> +Walking where the running water<br /> +Twines its silvery caprice,<br /> +Treading soft the leaf-spread carpet,<br /> +I encounter thoughts like these:—<br /> +<br /> +"Keep but heart, and healthful courage,<br /> +Keep the ship against the sea,<br /> +Thou shalt pass the dangerous quicksands<br /> +That ensnare Futurity;<br /> +<br /> +"Thou shalt live for song and story,<br /> +For the service of the pen;<br /> +Shalt survive till children's children<br /> +Bring thee mother-joys again.<br /> +<br /> +"Thou hast many years to gather;<br /> +And these falling years shall bring<br /> +The benignant fruits of Autumn,<br /> +Answering to the hopes of Spring.<br /> +<br /> +"Passing where the shades that darken<br /> +Grow transfigured to thy mind,<br /> +Thou shalt go with soul untroubled<br /> +To the mysteries behind;<br /> +<br /> +"Pass unmoved the silent portal<br /> +Where beatitude begins,<br /> +With an equal balance bearing<br /> +Thy misfortunes and thy sins."<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>Treading soft the leaf-spread carpet,<br /> +Thus the Spirits talked with me;<br /> +And I left my valley, musing<br /> +On their gracious prophecy.<br /> +<br /> +To my fiery youth's ambition<br /> +Such a boon were scarcely dear;<br /> +"Thou shalt live to be a grandame,<br /> +Work and die, devoid of fear."<br /> +<br /> +"Now, as utmost grace it steads me,<br /> +Add but this thereto," I said:<br /> +"On the matron's time-worn mantle<br /> +Let the Poet's wreath be laid."<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />"My first writing in the new house, where may God +help and bless us all. May no dark action shade our +record in this house, and if possible, no surpassing +sorrow."</p> + +<p>After the wide sunny spaces of No. 13 Chestnut +Street, the new house seemed small and dark; nor was +Boylston Place even in those days a specially cheerful +<i>cul de sac</i>; yet we remember it pleasantly enough +as the home of much work and much play.</p> + +<p>"<i>November 19.</i> Had the comforts of faith from dear +James Freeman [Clarke] to-day. Felt restored to +something like the peace I enjoyed before these two +tasks of printing and moving broke up all leisure and +all study. Determined to hold on with both hands to +the largeness of philosophical pursuit and study, and +to do my utmost to be useful in this connection and +path of life...."</p> + +<p>"Comforting myself with Hedge's book. Determined +to pass no more godless days...."</p> + +<p>She began to read Grote's Plato, and the Journal +contains much comment on the Platonic philosophy. +Another interest which came to her this autumn was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +that of singing with the Handel and Haydn Society. +She and Florence joined the altos, while "Harry," +then in college (Harvard, 1869), sang bass. We find +her also, in early December, rehearsing with a small +chorus the Christmas music for the Church of the +Disciples, and writing and rehearsing a charade for +the Club.</p> + +<p>"<i>December 12.</i> Saw my new book at Tilton's. It +looks very well, but I am not sanguine about its +fate."</p> + +<p>"Later Lyrics" made less impression than either of +the earlier volumes. It has been long out of print; our +mother does not mention it in her "Reminiscences"; +even in the Journal, the book once published, there are +few allusions to it, and those in a sad note: "Discouraged +about my book," and so forth; yet it contains +much of her best work.</p> + +<p>"<i>December 16.</i> Sarah Clarke<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> and Foley<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> are to dine +with me at 5.30. Went out at 10 A.M. to take Foley to +see [William] Hunt, whom we found in his studio in +a queer knitted coat. He showed an unfinished head +of General Grant, in which it struck me that the eyes +looked like the two scales of a balance in which men +and events could be weighed."</p> + +<p><br />The Journal for 1866 opens with a Latin aspiration: +"<i>Quod bonus, felix, faustusque sit hic annus mihi et +meis amicis dilectis et generi humano!</i>"</p> + +<p>February finds her in New York, going to a "family<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +party at Aunt Maria's.<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> Uncle John came. He was +the eldest, my Harry the youngest member. I made +a charade, <i>Shoddy</i>, in which Mary [Ward] and Flossy +took part. Mary did very well. Flossy always does +well. I enjoyed this family gathering more than anything +since leaving home. It is so rare a pleasure +for me. Family occasions are useful in bringing people +together on the disinterested ground of natural affection, +without any purpose of show or self-advancement. +Relations should meet on more substantial ground than +that of fashion and personal ambition. Nature and +self-respect here have the predominance. In my youth +I had no notion of this, though I always clung to those +of my own blood."</p> + +<p>From New York she went to Washington, where she +gave a series of philosophical readings. Here, while +staying at the house of Mrs. Eames, she had a violent +attack of malarial fever, but struggled up again +with her usual buoyancy.</p> + +<p>"<i>February 19.</i> Weather rainy, so stayed at home; +eyes weak, so could do little but lie in my easy-chair, +avoid cold, and hang on to conversation. To-day the +President<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> vetoed the bill for the Freedmen's Bureau. +The reading of the veto was received by the Senate +with intense, though suppressed, excitement. Governor +Andrew read it to us. It was specious, and ingeniously +overstated the scope and powers demanded for the +Bureau, in order to make its withholdment appear a +liberal and democratic measure. Montgomery Blair +is supposed to have written this veto."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p><p>At her first reading, she had "an excellent audience. +The rooms were well filled and there were many men +of note there.... Governor Andrew brought me in. +Sam Hooper was there. I read 'The Fact Accomplished.' +They received it very well. I was well +pleased with my reception."</p> + +<p>The next day she was so weary that she fell asleep +while the Marquis de Chambrun was talking to her.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>February 23.</i> To-day we learned the particulars +of President Johnson's disgraceful speech, which +awakens but one roar of indignation. To the Senate +at 11.30. When the business hour is over, Fessenden +moves the consideration of the House Resolution proposing +the delay in the admission of members for the +Southern States until the whole South shall be in a +state for readmission. Sherman, of Ohio, moves the +postponement of the question, alleging the present +excitement as a reason for this. (He probably does +this in the Copperhead interest.) At this Fessenden +shows his teeth and shakes the Ohio puppy pretty well. +Howe of Wisconsin also speaks for the immediate discussion +of the question. Doolittle, of ——, speaking +against it, Trumbull calls him to order. Reverdy +Johnson pitches in a little. The Ayes and Noes are +called for and the immediate consideration receives a +good majority. Fessenden now makes his speech, +reads the passage from the President's speech, calling +the committee of fifteen a directory,—comments fully +on the powers of Congress, the injustice of the President +and his defiant attitude.... He has force as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +debater, but no grasp of thought.... In the evening +I read the first half of 'Limitations' to a very small +circle. A Republican caucus took all the members +of Congress. Garrison also lectured. I was sorry, +but did my best and said, 'God's will be done.' But I +ought to have worked harder to get an audience."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 25....</i> Rode with Lieber<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> as far as Baltimore. +He heard Hegel in his youth and thinks him, +as I do, decidedly inferior to Kant, morally as well as +philosophically....</p> + +<p>"The laws and duties of society rest upon a supposed +compact, but this compact cannot deprive any +set of men of rights and limit them to duties, for if +you refuse them all rights, you deprive them even of +the power to become a party to this compact, which +rests upon their right to do so. Our slaves had no +rights. Women have few."</p> + + +<p><br />After leaving Washington, she spent several days +with her sister Annie in Bordentown, and there +and in New York gave readings which seem to have +been much more successful than those in Washington. +After the New York reading she is "glad and thankful."</p> + +<p>The visits in Bordentown were always a delight and +refreshment to her. She and her "little Hitter" +frolicked, once more two girls together: e.g., the following +incident:—</p> + +<p>The Reverend —— Bishop was the Mailliards' +pastor; a kindly gentleman, who could frolic as well as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +another. One day our Aunt Annie, wishing to ask him +to dine, sat down at her desk and wrote:—</p> + +<p> +"My dear Mr. Bishop,<br /> +To-day we shall dish up<br /> +At one and a half<br /> +The hind leg of a calf—"<br /> +</p> + +<p>At this point she was called away on household business. +Our mother sat down and wrote:—</p> + +<p> +"Now B., if he's civil,<br /> +May join in our revel;<br /> +But if he is not,<br /> +He may go to the devil!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>During the days that followed, Kant and charades +divided her time pretty evenly.</p> + +<p>"Kant's 'Anthropologia' is rather trifling, after his +great works. I read it to find out what Anthropology +is."</p> +<p> +* * * +* * * +</p> +<p>"Good is a direction; virtue is a habit."</p> +<p> +* * * +* * * <br /> +</p> +<p>"Wearied by endless running about to find help for +my charade, —— having disappointed me. Determine +to undertake nothing more of the kind."</p> +<p> +* * * +* * * <br /> +</p> +<p><br />The charade (<i>Belabor</i>), which came off the following +evening, was marked by a comic "To be or not to be," +composed and recited by her in a "Hamlet costume, +consisting of a narrow, rather short black skirt, a long +black cloak and a black velvet toque, splendid lace +ruff, amethyst necklace. It was very effective, and +the verses gave reasonable pleasure."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>"<i>March 15....</i> Went to the Masonic Banquet, +which was preceded by a long ceremony, the consecration +of three new banners. The forms were curious, +the music good, the occasion unique. The association +appeared to me a pale ghost of knighthood, and the +solemnities a compromise between high mass and dress +parade. The institution now means nothing more than +a military and religious toy."</p> + + +<p><br />In this year she met with a serious loss in the death +of her uncle, John Ward. He had been a second father +to her and her sisters; his kindly welcome always made +No. 8 Bond Street a family home.</p> + +<p>"<i>April 4.</i> The contents of uncle's will are known +to-day. He had made a new one, changing the disposition +of his property made in a previous will which +would have made my sisters and me much richer. This +one gives equally to my cousins, Uncle William's four +sons, and to us; largely to Uncle Richard, and most +kindly to Brother Sam and Wardie. We know not +why this change was made, but once made, it must +be acquiesced in, like other events past remedy. My +cousins are wealthy already—this makes little difference +to them, but much to us. God's will be done, +however. I must remember my own doctrine, and +build upon 'The Fact Accomplished.'"</p> + +<p>This passage explains the financial worries which, +from now on, often oppressed her. She was brought up +in wealth and luxury; sober wealth, unostentatious +luxury, but enough of both to make it needless for her +ever to consider questions of ways and means. Her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +whole family, from the adoring father down to the +loving youngest sister, felt that she must be shielded +from every sordid care or anxiety; she was tended like +an orchid, lest any rough wind check her perfect +blossoming.</p> + +<p>Her father left a large fortune, much of which was +invested in blocks of real estate in what is now the heart +of New York. Uncle John, best and kindest of men, +had no knowledge of real estate and none of the foresight +which characterized his elder brother. After Mr. +Ward's death, he made the mistake of selling out the +Manhattan real estate, and investing the proceeds in +stocks and bonds. Later, realizing his grave error, he +resolved to mitigate the loss to his three nieces by +dividing among them the bulk of his property.</p> + +<p>This failing, the disappointment could not but be a +sensible one, even to the least money-loving of women. +The Doctor's salary was never a large one: the children +must be given every possible advantage of education +and society; no door that was open to her own youth +should be closed to them; again, to entertain their +friends (albeit in simple fashion), to respond to every +call of need or distress, was matter of necessity to both +our parents: small wonder that they were often pressed +for money. All through the Journals we find this note +of financial anxiety: not for herself, but for her children, +and later for her grandchildren. She accepted +the restricted means; she triumphed over them, and +taught us to hold such matters of little account compared +with the real things of life; but they never ceased +to bewilder her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>Yet to-day, realizing of what vital importance this +seeming misfortune was to her; how but for this, her +life and other lives might have lacked "the rich flavor +of hope and toil"; how but for this she might have +failed to lock hands with humanity in a bond as close +as it was permanent, who can seriously regret Uncle +John's devastating yet fruitful mistake?</p> + +<p>In April again she writes:—</p> + +<p>"Dull, sad and perplexed. My uncle not having +made me a rich woman, I feel more than ever impelled +to make some great effort to realize the value of my +mental capacities and acquisitions. I am as well entitled +to an efficient literary position as any woman +in this country—perhaps better than any other. Still +I hang by the way, picking up ten dollars here and +there with great difficulty. I pray God to help me to +an occasion or sphere in which I may do my utmost. +I had as lief die as live unless I can be satisfied that I +have delivered the whole value of my literary cargo—all +at least that was invoiced for this world. Hear me, +great Heaven! Guide and assist me. No mortal can."</p> + +<p>The next day's entry is more cheerful.</p> + +<p>"Feel better to-day. Made the acquaintance of +Aldrich and Howells and their wives, at Alger's last +evening. I enjoyed the evening more than usual. +Aldrich has a very refined face. Howells<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> is odd-looking,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +but sympathetic and intelligent. Alger was in all +his glory."</p> + + +<p>"<i>April 11....</i> Between a man governed by inner +and one governed by outer control, there is the difference +which we find between a reptile in a shell and a +vertebrate. The one has his vertebræ within to support +him, the other has them without to contain him."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 19.</i> Very busy all day. Ran about too much, +and was very tired. Had friends, in the evening, to +meet young Perabo. I did not wish to give a party, +on account of Uncle's death, but could not help getting +together quite a lovely company of friends. Aldrich +and wife were here, Alger, Bartol, Professor Youmans, +Perabo, Dresel, Louisa D. Hunt, and others. It was +a good time.... Saw my last cent go—nothing now +till May, unless I can earn something."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 20.</i> Began to work over and correct my poem +for the Church Festival, which must be licked into +shape, for the Gods will give me none other. So I must +hammer at it slowly, and a good deal.... To write +purely for money is to beg, first telling a story."</p> + +<p>In these days the Doctor was very weary through +excess of work. He longed for a change, and would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +have been glad to receive the mission to Greece, of +which some prospect had been held out to him. She +writes: "Chev full of the Greek mission, which I +think he cannot get. I wish he might, because he +wishes it. Surely a man so modest and meritorious +in his public career might claim so small an acknowledgment +as this. But as we are, he represents Charity, +I the study of Philosophy—we cannot be more +honored than by standing for these things."</p> + +<p>It was thought that she might have some influence +in obtaining the mission: accordingly she went to +Washington, anxious to help if she might. She saw the +President of the Senate, who promised support. While +there she writes: "Governor Andrew took me to General +Grant's, where I saw the General, with great satisfaction. +Prayed at bedtime that I might not become a +superficial sham and humbug."</p> + +<p>Hearing that Charles Sumner had sought her at the +house of Mrs. Eames, she sent a message to him by a +common friend. She writes: "Sumner cannot make +a visit at the hotel, but will see me at the Capitol. I +know of nothing which exempts a man in public life +from the duty of having, in private, some <i>human</i> +qualities." Mr. Sumner did come to see her later, +when she was staying with Mrs. Eames. She saw Secretary +Seward, who was very ungracious to her; and +President Johnson, whom she found "not one inclined +to much speech." Before the latter interview her +prayer was: "Let me be neither unskilful nor mean!"</p> + +<p>The visit to Mrs. Eames was a sad one, being at the +time of the death of Count Gurowski, a singular man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +whom she has described in her "Reminiscences"; but +she met many notable persons, and had much interesting +conversation with her host and hostess. She +records one or two bits of talk.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Eames saying that Mrs. X. was an intelligent +but not an original woman, I said: 'She is not a silk-worm, +but a silk-wearer!' Nine women out of ten +would rather be the latter than the former."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Eames saying that he often talked because he +could not make the effort to be silent, I said: 'Yes, sir; +we know that the <i>vis inertiæ</i> often shows itself in +motion.'</p> + +<p>"I record these sayings," she adds, "because they interested +me, opening to myself little shades of thought +not perceived before."</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 27.</i> Boston. My birthday. Forty-seven years +old. J. F. C. preached on 'The seed is the word,' and +gave a significant statement of the seminal power of +Christianity. They sang also a psalm tune which I like, +so that the day (a rainy one) seems to me auspicious. +I have little to show for the past year's work, having +produced no work of any length and read but little in +public. The doctrine of the <i>seed</i> does, however, encourage +us to continue our small efforts. The most +effectual quickening of society is through that small +influence which creeps like the leaven through the +dough...."</p> + +<p>"... Roman piety was the duteous care of one's +relatives. It follows from this that the disregard of +parents and elders common in America is in itself an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +irreligious trait, and one which education should sedulously +correct."</p> + +<p>On May 29 she attended the Unitarian Festival. +She recalls the fact that at the last festival she was +"tormented by the desire to speak. But I am now +grown more patient, knowing that silence also is +valuable...."</p> + +<p>The Chevalier was not to receive the only reward +he had ever sought for his labors. On May 31 she +writes: "To-day the blow fell. A kind letter from Vice-President +Foster informed me that Charles T. Tuckerman +had been nominated for the Greek mission. This +gave me an unhappy hour. Chev was a good deal +overcome by it for a time, but rallied and bears up +bravely. The girls are rather glad. I am content, but +I do not see what can take the place of this cherished +object to Chev...."</p> + +<p>The following verses embody her thoughts on this +matter:—</p> + +<p>To S. G. H.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>On his failure to receive the Grecian mission which he had been led +to think might be offered to him. 1866.</i></p> + +<p> +The Grecian olives vanish from thy sight,<br /> +The wondrous hills, the old historic soil;<br /> +The elastic air, that freshened with delight<br /> +Thy youthful temples, flushed with soldier toil.<br /> +<br /> +O noble soul! thy laurel early wreathed<br /> +Gathers the Christian rose and lilies fair,<br /> +For civic virtues when the sword was sheathed,<br /> +And perfect faith that learns from every snare.<br /> +<br /> +Let, then, the modern embassy float by,<br /> +Nor one regret in thy high bosom lurk:<br /> +God's mission called thy youth to that soft sky;<br /> +Wait God's dismissal where thou build'st His work!<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>"<i>Divide et impera</i> is an old maxim of despotism +which does not look as if States' rights pointed in the +direction of true freedom."</p> + +<p>"It is only in the natural order that the living dog +is better than the dead lion. Will any one say that +the living thief is better than the dead hero? No one, +save perhaps the thief himself, who is no judge."</p> + +<p>The Journal is now largely concerned with Kant, +and with Maine's work on "Ancient Law," from which +she quotes freely. Here and there are touches of her +own.</p> + +<p>"Epicureans are to Stoics as circumference to +centre."</p> + +<p>"I think Hegel more difficult than important. Many +people suppose that the difficulty of a study is a sure +indication of its importance."</p> + +<p>In these years the Doctor and our sister Julia were +in summer time rather visitors than members of the +family. The former was, as Governor Bullock said +of him, "driving all the Charities of Massachusetts +abreast," and could enjoy the Valley only by snatches, +flying down for a day or a week as he could. Julia, from +her early girlhood, had interested herself deeply in all +that concerned the blind, and had become more and +more the Doctor's companion and workfellow at the +Perkins Institution, where much of his time was necessarily +spent. She had classes in various branches of +study, and in school and out gave herself freely to her +blind pupils. A friend said to her mother, many years +later, "It was one of the sights of Boston in the days +of the Harvard Musical concerts to see your Julia's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +radiant face as she would come into Music Hall, leading +a blind pupil in either hand."</p> + +<p>Early in this summer of 1866 Julia accompanied the +Doctor on a visit to the State Almshouse at Monson, +and saw there a little orphan boy, some three years +old, who attracted her so strongly that she begged to be +allowed to take him home with her. Accordingly she +brought him to the Valley, a sturdy, blue-eyed Irish +lad. Julia, child of study and poetry, had no nursery +adaptability, and little "Tukey" was soon turned over +to our mother, who gladly took charge of him. He was +nearly of the age of her little Sammy: something in his +countenance reminded her of the lost child, and she +found delight in playing with him. She would have +been glad to adopt him, but this was not thought practicable. +Julia had already tired of him; the Doctor for +many reasons advised against it.</p> + +<p>She grieved all summer for the child; but was afterward +made happy by his adoption into a cheerful and +prosperous home.</p> + +<p>This was a summer of arduous work. The "Tribune" +demanded more letters; Kant and Maine could not be +neglected, and soon Fichte was added to them.</p> + +<p>Moreover, the children must have every pleasure +that she could give them.</p> + +<p>"Worked hard all the morning for the croquet party +in the afternoon, which was very pleasant and successful.</p> + +<p>"Took Julia to the party on board the Rhode Island. +She looked charmingly, and danced. I was quite happy +because she enjoyed it."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>Early August found her in Northampton, reporting +for the "Tribune" the Convention of the American +Academy of Science. The Doctor and Julia joined her, +and she had "very busy days," attending the sessions +and writing her reports.</p> + +<p>"Read over several times my crabbed essay on the +'Two Necessities,' which I determine to read in the +evening. I have with me also the essay on 'Limitations,' +far more amusing and popular. But for a scientific +occasion, I will choose a treatise which aims at +least at a scientific treatment of a great question. This +essay asserts the distinctness of the Ideal Order and its +legitimate supremacy in human processes of thought. +I make a great effort to get its points thoroughly in +my mind. Go late to the Barnards'. The scientifics +arrive very late, Agassiz gets there at 9. I begin to +read soon after. The ladies of our party are all there. +I feel a certain enthusiasm in my work and subject, +but do not communicate it to the audience, which +seemed fatigued and cold; all at least but Pierce, +Agassiz, and Davis. Had I done well or ill to read it?... +Some soul may have carried away a seed-grain +of thought."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 11....</i> To Mount Holyoke in the afternoon. +The ascent was frightful, the view sublime. In +the evening went to read to the insane people at the +asylum; had not 'Later Lyrics,' but 'Passion Flowers.' +Read from this and recited from the other. Had great +pleasure in doing this, albeit under difficulties. Finished +second 'Tribune' letter and sent it."</p> + +<p>Back at the Valley, she plunges once more into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +Fichte; long hours of study, varied by picnics and +sailing parties.</p> + +<p>"To church at St. Mary's. X. preached. The beginning +of his sermon was liberal,—the latter half sentimental +and sensational. 'The love of Christ constraineth +us,' but he dwelt far too much on the supposition +of a personal and emotional relation between the soul +and Christ. It is Christian doctrine interpreted by +human sympathy that reclaims us. Christ lives in his +doctrine, influences us through that, and his historical +personality. All else is myth and miracle. What Christ +is to-day ideally we may be able to state, of what he is +really, Mr. X. knows no more than I do, and I know +nothing.</p> + +<p>"Stayed to Communion, which was partly pleasant. +But the Episcopal Communion struck me as dismal, +compared to our own. It is too literal and cannibalistic;—the +symbolism of the eating and drinking is too +little made out. Our Unitarian Communion is a feast of +joy. The blessedness of Christ's accomplishment swallows +up the sorrow of his sacrifice. We have been +commemorating the greatest act and fact of human +history, the initiation of the gentler morals of the purer +faith. We are glad,—not trivially, but solemnly, and +our dear Master is glad with us, but not as if he aimed +a direct personal influence at each one of us. This is +too human and small a mode of operation.</p> + +<p>"He is there for us as the sun is there and the brightness +of his deed and doctrine penetrates the recesses of +our mind and consciousness. But that he knows each +one of us cannot and need not be affirmed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">'The moon looks</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">On many brooks:</span><br /> +The brook can see no moon but this.'<br /> +</p> + +<p>So that we see him, it matters not whether he sees us +or no.</p> + +<p>"Spinoza's great word;—if we love God, we shall +not trouble ourselves about his loving us."</p> + +<p>"I yesterday spoke to Joseph Coggeshall, offering to +give a reading at the schoolhouse, in order to start a +library fund. He appeared pleased with the idea. I +proposed to ask .50 for each ticket."</p> + +<p>"Chev suggests Europe. '<i>Je suis content du palazzo +Pitti.</i>'"</p> + +<p>"I cannot study Fichte for more than forty-five +minutes at a time. Reading him is not so bad as translating, +which utterly overpowers my brain, although +I find it useful in comprehending him."</p> + +<p>"I begin to doubt the availability of Fichte's methods +for me. I become each day more dispirited over +him. With the purest intention he is much less of an +ethicist than Kant. These endless refinements in <i>rationale</i> +of the <i>ego</i> confuse rather than enlighten the +moral sense. Where the study of metaphysics becomes +de-energizing, it becomes demoralizing. Subtlety +used in a certain way unravels confusion, in a +certain other way produces it. Kant unwinds the silkworm's +web, but Fichte tangles the skein of silk,—at +least so it seems to me.</p> + +<p>"Spent most of the afternoon in preparing for a tea +party, cutting peaches and preparing bread and +butter."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>"Read 11th and 12th chapters of Mark in the Valley. +At some moments one gets a clearer and nearer perception +of the thought and personality of Christ +than that which we commonly carry with us."</p> + +<p>Early in October came the move "home to Boylston +Place, leaving the Valley with great regret, but feeling +more the importance of being with the children, as I +draw nearer to them."</p> + +<p>Our mother had remained after the rest of us, to +close the house. In Boston she had the great pleasure +of welcoming to this country her nephew, Francis +Marion Crawford, then a boy of twelve years. Born +and bred in Rome, a beautiful and petted child, he was +now to learn to be an American schoolboy. She took +him herself to St. Paul's School in Concord, New +Hampshire; and for a year or two he spent most of his +holidays with us, to the delight of us all.</p> + +<p>In this autumn of 1866 she undertook a new task, of +which the first mention in the Journal reads: "I will +here put the names of some writers of stories whom I +may employ for the magazine."</p> + +<p>A list of writers follows: and the next day she writes: +"I saw J. R. Gilmour and agreed with him to do editorial +service for thirty dollars per week for three +months."</p> + +<p>This magazine was the "Northern Lights." The +first number appeared in January, 1867. It contained +two articles by Mrs. Howe: the "Salutation" and a +thoughtful poem called "The Two R's" (Rachel and +Ristori). Later, we find her in the "Sittings of the Owl +Club," making game of the studies she loved.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">This owl went to Germany,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">This owl stayed at home;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">This owl read Kant and Fichte,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">This owl read none.</span><br /> +This owl said "To-whit! I can't understand the dogmatic categorical!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>The "Northern Lights" gleam fitfully in the +Journal.</p> + +<p>"<i>October 26.</i> To write Henry James for story, +Charles T. Brooks for sketches of travel. Saw and +talked with Gilmour, who confuses my mind."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 29.</i> Chev went with me to Ristori's <i>début</i>, +which was in Medea."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 3.</i> All of these days have been busy and +interrupted. Maggi<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> has been reading Ristori's plays +in my parlor every day this week and my presence has +been compulsory. I have kept on with Fichte whose +'<i>Sittenlehre</i>' I have nearly finished. Have copied one +or two poems, written various letters in behalf of the +magazine, have seen Ristori thrice on the stage and +once in private."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 10.</i> Finished copying and correcting my +editorial for the first number of my weekly. Finished +also Fichte's '<i>Sittenlehre</i>' for whose delightful reading +I thank God, praying never to act quite unworthily +of its maxims."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 11.</i> Called on Mrs. Charles Sumner, and +saw both parties, who were very cordial and seemed +very happy."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 15.</i> Crackers, .25, eggs, .43, rosewater +for Frank Crawford, .48. Very weary and overdone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +The twelve apostles shall judge the twelve tribes in +that the Christian doctrine judges the Jews.</p> + +<p>"I lead a weary life of hurry and interruption."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 18.</i> Weary hearts must, I think, be idle +hearts, for it is cheery even to be overworked. My +studies and experience have combined to show me the +difficulty of moral attainment, but both have made me +feel that with every average human being there is a +certain possible conjunction of conviction, affection, +and personality which, being effected, the individual +will see the reality of the ethical aspects of life and the +necessary following of happiness upon a good will and +its strenuous prosecution.</p> + +<p>"I began Fichte's '<i>Wissenschaftslehre</i>' two or three +days ago.</p> + +<p>"Gave a small party to Baron Osten Sacken.... +Peaceably if we can, forcibly if we must, makes the +difference between the beggar and the thief."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 26.</i> Very unwell; a good day's work, +nevertheless."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 27.</i> Better. Last week was too fatiguing +for a woman of my age. I cannot remember my forty-seven +years, and run about too much. The oratorio +should, I fear, be given up."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 8.</i> I came in from Lexington last night +after the reading<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> in an open buggy with a strange +driver, a boy of eighteen, who when we were well under +way showed me a pistol,—a revolver, I think,—and +said that he never travelled at night without one. As +the boy's very face was unknown to me, the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +adventure seemed bizarre. He brought me home to my +own house.... Am writing on 'Representation.'... +Man asks nothing so much as to be helped to self-control."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 9.</i> Heard J. F. C. as usual. 'She hath +done what she could'—a good text for me at this +moment. Independently of ambition, vanity, pride,—all +of which prompt all of us, I feel that I must do what +my hand finds to do, taking my dictation and my +reward from sources quite above human will and approbation."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 19....</i> Vicomte de Chabreuil came. We +had a long, and to me splendid, conversation. Were I +young this person would occupy my thoughts somewhat. +Very intelligent, simple, and perfectly bred, +also a <i>rosso</i>,—a rare feature in a Frenchman."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 27.</i> Let me live until to-morrow, and not +be ridiculous! I have a dinner party and an evening +party to-day and night, and knowing myself to be a +fool for my pains, am fain to desire that others may +not find it out and reproach me as they discover it.</p> + +<p>"Got hold of Fichte a little which rested my weary +brain.</p> + +<p>"My party proved very pleasant and friendly."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 29....</i> I read last night at the Club a +poem, 'The Rich Man's Library,' which contrasts material +and mental wealth, much to the disparagement +of the former. I felt as if I ought to read it, having +inwardly resolved never again to disregard that inner +prompting which leaves us no doubt as to the authority +of certain acts which present themselves to us for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +accomplishment. Having read the poem, however, I +felt doubtful whether after all I had done well to read it +in that company. I will hope, however, that it may +prove not to have been utterly useless. The imperfection +of that which we try to do well sometimes reacts +severely upon us and discourages us from further effort. +It should not."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 31.</i> Ran about all day, but studied and +wrote also.</p> + +<p>"Farewell, old Diary, farewell, old Year! Good, +happy and auspicious to me and mine, and to mankind, +I prayed that you might be, and such I think you have +been. To me you have brought valued experience and +renewed study. You have introduced me to Fichte, +you have given me the honor of a new responsibility, +you have made me acquainted with some excellent +personages, among them Baron McKaye, a youth of +high and noble nature; Perabo, an artist of real genius.... +You have taught me new lessons of the true meaning +and discipline of life,—the which should make me +more patient in all endurance, more strenuous in all +endeavor. You have shown me more clearly the line of +demarcation between different talents, pursuits, and +characters. So I thank and bless your good days, looking +to the Supreme from whom we receive all things. +The most noticeable events of the year just passed, so +far as I am concerned, are the following: the invitation +received by me to read at the Century Club in New +York. This reading was hindered by the death of my +brother-in-law, J. N. Howe. The death of dear Uncle +John. My journey to Washington to get Chev the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +Greek appointment. Gurowski's death. Attendance +at the American Academy of Science at Northampton +in August. The editorship of the new weekly. My +study of Fichte's '<i>Sittenlehre</i>' and the appearance of +my essay on the 'Ideal State' in the 'Christian Examiner.' +My reading at Lexington for the Monument +Association. My being appointed a delegate from the +Indiana Place Church to the Boston Conference of +Unitarian and other Christian Churches. My readings +at Northampton, Washington, and elsewhere are all +set down in their place. The bitter opposition of my +family renders this service a very difficult and painful +one for me. I do not, therefore, seek occasions of performing +it, not being quite clear as to the extent to +which they ought to limit my efficiency; but when the +word and the time come together I always try to give +the one to the other and always shall. God instruct +whichever of us is in the wrong about this. And may +God keep mean and personal passions far removed +from me in the coming years. The teaching of life has +of late done much to wean me from them, but the true +human requires culture and the false human suppression +every day of our lives and as long as we live."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>GREECE AND OTHER LANDS</h3> + +<h4>1867; <i>aet.</i> 48</h4> + +<p>OUR COUNTRY</p> + +<p> +On primal rocks she wrote her name,<br /> +Her towers were reared on holy graves;<br /> +The golden seed that bore her came<br /> +Swift-winged with prayer o'er ocean waves.<br /> +<br /> +The Forest bowed his solemn crest,<br /> +And open flung his sylvan doors;<br /> +Meek Rivers led the appointed Guest<br /> +To clasp the wide-embracing shores;<br /> +<br /> +Till, fold by fold, the broidered Land<br /> +To swell her virgin vestments grew,<br /> +While Sages, strong in heart and hand,<br /> +Her virtue's fiery girdle drew.<br /> +<br /> +O Exile of the wrath of Kings!<br /> +O Pilgrim Ark of Liberty!<br /> +The refuge of divinest things,<br /> +Their record must abide in thee.<br /> +<br /> +First in the glories of thy front<br /> +Let the crown jewel Truth be found;<br /> +Thy right hand fling with generous wont<br /> +Love's happy chain to farthest bound.<br /> +<br /> +Let Justice with the faultless scales<br /> +Hold fast the worship of thy sons,<br /> +Thy commerce spread her shining sails<br /> +Where no dark tide of rapine runs.<br /> +<br /> +So link thy ways to those of God,<br /> +So follow firm the heavenly laws,<br /> +That stars may greet thee, warrior-browed,<br /> +And storm-sped angels hail thy cause.<br /> +<br /> +O Land, the measure of our prayers,<br /> +Hope of the world, in grief and wrong!<br /> +Be thine the blessing of the years,<br /> +The gift of faith, the crown of song.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />In January, 1867, a new note is sounded.</p> + +<p>"In the evening attended meeting in behalf of Crete,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +at which Chev presided and spoke. Excellent as to +matter, but always with a defective elocution, not +sending his voice out. He was much and deservedly +glorified by other speakers, and, indeed, his appearance +on this occasion was most touching and interesting. +Phillips was very fine; Huntington was careful, polished, +and interesting. Andrew read the resolutions, +with a splendid compliment to Chev."</p> + +<p>Some months before this, in August, 1866, the Cretans +had risen against their Turkish oppressors, and +made a valiant struggle for freedom. From the first +the Doctor had been deeply interested in the insurrection: +now, as reports came of the sufferings of the brave +mountaineers, and of their women and children, who +had been sent to the mainland for safety, he felt impelled +to help them as he had helped their fathers forty +years before.</p> + +<p>He was sixty-six years old, but looked much younger. +When, at the first meeting called by him, he rose and +said, "Forty-five years ago I was much interested in +the Greek Revolution," the audience was amazed. His +hair was but lightly touched with silver; his eyes were +as bright, his figure as erect and martial, as when, in +1826, he had fought and marched under the Greek +banner, and slept under the Greek stars, wrapped in his +shaggy capote.</p> + +<p>His appeal in behalf of Crete roused the ever-generous +heart of Boston. Committees were formed, and +other meetings were held, among them that just described. +Governor Andrew's "splendid compliment" +to him was given thus:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>"I venture, Mr. Chairman, to make one single suggestion—that +if all of us were dumb to-night, if the +eloquent voices which have stimulated our blood and +inspired our hearts had been silent as the tomb, your +presence, sir, would have been more eloquent than a +thousand orations; when we remember that after the +life-time of a whole generation of men, he who forty +years ago bared his arm to seize the Suliote blade, +speaks again with the voice of his age in defence of the +cause of his youth."</p> + +<p>Thirty-seven thousand dollars were raised for Crete, +and in March, 1867, Dr. Howe sailed again for Greece +on an errand of mercy. The Journal gives an outline +of the busy winter:—</p> + +<p>"The post is the poor man's valet...."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 12.</i> A busy and studious day; had the +neighbors in after tea. Want clamors for relief, but +calls for cure, which begins in discipline...."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 24.</i> N. P. Willis's funeral. Chev came +home quite suddenly and asked me to go with him to +the church, St. Paul's. The pallbearers were Longfellow +and Lowell, Drs. Holmes and Howe, Whipple +and Fields, T. B. Aldrich and I don't know who. +Coffin covered with flowers. Appearance of the family +interesting: the widow bowed and closely shrouded. +Thus ends a man of perhaps first-rate genius, ruined +by the adoption of an utterly frivolous standard of +labor and of life. George IV and Bulwer have to answer +for some of these failures.</p> + +<p>"My tea party was delightful, friendly, not fashionable. +We had a good talk, and a lovely, familiar time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>"Heard J. F. C. Took my dear Francesco [Marion +Crawford] at his request, with great pleasure, feeling +that he would find there a living Jesus immortal in +influence, instead of the perfumed and embalmed +mummy of orthodoxy....</p> + +<p>"Of that which is not clear one cannot have a clear +idea. My reading in Fichte to-day is of the most confused."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 7.</i> Chev came dancing in to tell me that +Flossy is engaged to David Hall. His delight knew no +bounds. I am also pleased, for David is of excellent +character and excellent blood, the Halls being first-rate +people and with no family infirmity (insanity or +blindness). My only regret is that it must prove a long +engagement, David being a very young lawyer."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 14.</i> All's up, as I feared, with 'Northern +Lights' in its present form. Gilmour proposes to go to +New York and to change its form and character to that +of a weekly newspaper. I of course retire from it and, +indeed, despite my title of editor, have been only +a reader of manuscripts and contributor—nothing +more. I have not had power of any sort to make +engagements."</p> + +<p>The tenth number of "Northern Lights" was also the +last, and we hear no more of the ill-fated magazine.</p> + +<p>The Journal says nothing of the proposed trip to +Greece, until February 15:—</p> + +<p>"I had rather die, it seems to me, than decide +wrongly about going to Europe and leaving the children. +And yet I am almost sure I shall do so. Chev +clearly wishes me to go.... Whether I go or stay, God<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +help me to make the best of it. My desire to help Julia +is a strong point in favor of the journey. It would be, +I think, a turning-point for her."</p> + +<p>Later she writes:—</p> + +<p>"Chev has taken our passage in the Asia, which sails +on the 13th proximo. So we have the note of preparation, +and the prospect of change and separation makes +us feel how happy we have been, in passing this whole +winter together."</p> + +<p>The remaining days were full of work of every kind. +She gave readings here and there in aid of the Cretans.</p> + +<p>"Ran about much: saw Miss Rogers's deaf pupils at +Mrs. Lamson's, very interesting.... For the first time +in three days got a peep at Fichte. Finished Jesse's +'George the Third.'</p> + +<p>"Went to Roxbury to read at Mrs. Harrington's for +the benefit of the Cretans. It was a literary and musical +entertainment. Tickets, one dollar. We made one +hundred dollars. My poems were very kindly received. +Afterwards, in great haste, to Sophia Whitwell's,<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> +where I received a great ovation, all members greeting +me most affectionately. Presently Mr. [Josiah] +Quincy, with some very pleasant and complimentary +remarks on Dr. Howe and myself, introduced Mrs. +Silsbee's farewell verses to me, which were cordial and +feeling. Afterwards I read my valedictory verses, +strung together in a very headlong fashion, but just as +well liked as though I had bestowed more care upon +them. A bouquet of flowers crowned the whole, really +a very gratifying occasion."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p> +<p>"<i>March 13.</i> Departure auspicious. Dear Maud, +Harry, and Flossy on board to say farewell, with J. S. +Dwight, H. P. Warner, and other near friends. Many +flowers; the best first day at sea I ever passed."</p> + +<p>Julia and Laura were the happy two chosen to join +this expedition, the other children staying with relatives +and friends. From first to last the journey was +one of deepest interest. The Journal keeps a faithful +record of sight-seeing, which afterward took shape in +a volume, "From the Oak to the Olive," published in +1868, and dedicated "To S. G. H., the strenuous champion +of Greek liberty and of human rights."</p> + +<p>It is written in the light vein of "A Trip to Cuba." +In the first chapter she says: "The less we know about +a thing, the easier it is to write about it. To give quite +an assured and fluent account of a country, we should +lose no time on our first arrival. The first impression +is the strongest. Familiarity constantly wears off the +edge of observation. The face of the new country +astonishes us once, and once only."</p> + +<p>Though much that she saw during this trip was +already familiar to her, there is no lack of strength in +the impression. She sees things with new eyes; the +presence of "the neophytes," as she calls the daughters, +gives an atmosphere of "first sight" to the +whole.</p> + +<p>In London she finds "the old delightful account +reopened, the friendly visits frequent, and the luxurious +invitations to dinner occupy every evening of our +short week."</p> + +<p>"<i>London.</i> Lunch with the Benzons, whose palatial<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +residence moved me not to envy. This seems an idle +word, but I like to record my satisfaction in a simple, +unencumbered life, without state of any kind, save my +pleasant relations and my good position in my own +country. Mrs. Benzon asked me to come alone to +dinner in the evening. First, however, I called upon +Arthur Mills at Hyde Park Gardens; then upon Mrs. +Ambassadress Adams, who was quite cordial; then in +frantic hurry home to dress. At Benzon's I met Robert +Browning, a dear and sacred personage, dear for his +own and his wife's sake. He sat next me at table and +by and by spoke very kindly of my foolish verses<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> about +himself and E. B. B. I mean he spoke of them with +magnanimity. Of course my <i>present</i> self would not +publish, nor I hope write, anything of the kind, but I +launched the arrow in the easy petulance of those days, +more occupied with its force and polish than with its +direction."</p> + +<p>"To Lady Stanley's 5 o'clock tea, where I met her +daughter Lady Amberley and Sir Samuel Baker, the +explorer of the sources of the Nile. Dined with the +Benzons, meeting Browning again."</p> + +<p>"Tea with Miss Cobbe. Met the Lyells. Dined with +Males family, Greek,—a most friendly occasion. +Afterwards went for a short time to Mrs. ——, a very +wealthy Greek widow, who received us very ill. Heard +there Mr. Ap Thomas, a Welsh harper who plays exceedingly +well. The pleasure of hearing him scarcely +compensated for Mrs. ——'s want of politeness, which +was probably not intentional. Saw there Sir Samuel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +and Lady Baker, the latter wore an amber satin tunic +over a white dress, and a necklace of lion's teeth."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 5.</i> Breakfast with Mr. Charles Dalrymple at +2 Clarges Street, where we met Mr. Grant Duff, Baron +McKaye, and others. Tea at Lady Trevelyan's, where +I was introduced to Dean Stanley of Westminster ... +and young Milman, son of the Reverend H. M. Lady +Stanley was Lady Augusta Bruce, a great favorite of +the Queen. Dined at Argyll Lodge, found the Duchess +serene and friendly; the Duke seemed hard and sensible, +Lord Lorne, the eldest son, very pleasant, and +Hon. Charles Howard and son most amiable, with more +breeding, I should say, than the Duke. Chev was the +hero of this occasion; the Duchess always liked him."</p> + +<p>During this brief week, the Doctor had been in close +communication with the Greeks of London, who one +and all were eager to welcome him, and to bid him +Godspeed on his errand. His business transacted, he +felt that he must hurry on toward Greece. Some stay +must be made in Rome, where our Aunt Louisa (now +Mrs. Luther Terry) was anxiously expecting the party; +but even this tie of affection and friendship could not +keep the Doctor long from his quest. On May 1 he and +Julia went to Greece, the others remaining for some +weeks in Italy.</p> + +<p>Sixteen years had passed since our mother's last +visit to Rome. She found some changes in the city, +but more vital ones in herself.</p> + +<p>"I left Rome," she says, "after those days, with +entire determination, but with infinite reluctance. +America seemed the place of exile, Rome the home of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +sympathy and comfort.... And now I must confess +that, after so many intense and vivid pages of life, this +visit to Rome, once a theme of fervent and solemn +desire, becomes a mere page of embellishment in a +serious and instructive volume."</p> + +<p>Here follows a disquisition on "the Roman problem +for the American thinker"; the last passage gives her +conclusion:—</p> + +<p>"A word to my countrymen and countrywomen, +who, lingering on the edge of the vase, are lured by its +sweets, and fall into its imprisonment. It is a false, +false superiority to which you are striving to join yourself. +A prince of puppets is not a prince, but a puppet; +a superfluous duke is no dux; a titular count does not +count. Dresses, jewels, and equipages of tasteless +extravagance; the sickly smile of disdain for simple +people; the clinging together, by turns eager and +haughty, of a clique that becomes daily smaller in +intention, and whose true decline consists in its numerical +increase—do not dream that these lift you in any +true way—in any true sense. For Italians to believe +that it does, is natural; for Englishmen to believe it, is +discreditable; for Americans, disgraceful."</p> + +<p>The Terrys were at this time living in Palazzo +Odescalchi. Our mother observes that "the whole of +my modest house in Boylston Place would easily, as to +solid contents, lodge in the largest of those lofty rooms. +The Place itself would equally lodge in the palace. I +regard my re-found friends with wonder, and expect +to see them execute some large and stately manœuvre, +indicating their possession of all this space."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>It was Holy Week when they arrived in Rome, and +she was anxious that the "neophytes" should see as +much as possible of its impressive ceremonies. She +took them to St. Peter's to see the washing of the pilgrims' +feet by noble Roman ladies, and to hear the +"Miserere" in the Sistine Chapel. These functions are +briefly chronicled in the Journal and more fully in +"From the Oak to the Olive."</p> + +<p>"Solid fact as the performance of the <i>functions</i> remains, +for us it assumes a forcible unreality, through +the impeding intervention of black dresses and veils, +with what should be women under them. But as these +creatures push like battering-rams, and caper like he-goats, +we shall prefer to adjourn the question of their +humanity, and to give it the benefit of a doubt. We +must except, however, our countrywomen from dear +Boston, who were not seen otherwise than decently and +in order."</p> + +<p>A vivid description follows of the ceremonies of +Good Friday and Easter Sunday, ending with the +illumination of St. Peter's.</p> + +<p>"A magical and unique spectacle it certainly is, with +the well-known change from the paper lanterns to the +flaring <i>lampions</i>. Costly is it of human labor, and +perilous to human life. And when I remembered that +those employed in it receive the sacrament beforehand, +in order that imminent death may not find them out of +a state of grace, I thought that its beauty did not so +much signify."</p> + +<p>In the Journal she writes, April 19: "It is the golden +calf of old which has developed into the papal bull."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>At a concert she saw the Abbé Liszt, "whose vanity +and desire to attract attention were most apparent."</p> + +<p>Though the sober light of middle age showed Rome +less magical than of old, yet the days were full of delight.</p> + +<p>"In these scarce three weeks," she cries, "how much +have we seen, how little recorded and described! So +sweet has been the fable, that the intended moral has +passed like an act in a dream—a thing of illusion and +intention, not of fact. Impotent am I, indeed, to describe +the riches of this Roman world,—its treasures, +its pleasures, its flatteries, its lessons. Of so much that +one receives, one can give again but the smallest shred,—a +leaf of each flower, a scrap of each garment, a +proverb for a sermon, a stave for a song. So be it; so, +perhaps, it is best."</p> + +<p>"Last Sunday I attended a Tombola at Piazza +Navona.... I know the Piazza of old. Sixteen years +since I made many a pilgrimage thither, in search of +Roman trash. I was not then past the poor amusement +of spending money for the sake of spending it. The +foolish things I brought home moved the laughter of +my little Roman public. I appeared in public with +some forlorn brooch or dilapidated earring; the giddy +laughed outright, and the polite gazed quietly. My +rooms were the refuge of all broken-down vases and +halting candelabra. I lived on the third floor of a modest +lodging, and all the wrecks of art that neither first, +second, nor fourth would buy, found their way into +my parlor, and stayed there at my expense. I recall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +some of these adornments to-day. Two heroes, in +painted wood, stood in my dark little entry. A gouty +Cupid in bas-relief encumbered my mantelpiece. Two +forlorn figures in black and white glass recalled the +auction whose unlucky prize they had been. And +Horace Wallace, coming to talk of art and poetry, on +my red sofa, sometimes saluted me with a paroxysm +of merriment, provoked by the sight of my last purchase. +Those days are not now. Of their accumulations +I retain but a fragment or two. Of their delights remain +a tender memory, a childish wonder at my own childishness. +To-day, in heathen Rome, I can find better +amusement than those shards and rags were ever able +to represent."</p> + +<p>On May 26 she writes in her Journal:—</p> + +<p>"I remembered the confusion of my mind when I +was here sixteen years ago and recognized how far +more than equivalent for the vivacity of youth, now +gone, is the gain of a steadfast standard of good and +happiness. To desire supremely ends which are incompatible +with no one's happiness and which promote the +good of all—this even as an ideal is a great gain from +the small and eager covetousness of personal desires. +Religion gives this steadfast standard whose pursuit is +happiness. Therefore let him who seeks religion be +glad that he seeks the only true good of which, indeed, +we constantly fail, and yet in seeking it are constantly +renewed.... Studios of Mozier and of Rogers—the +former quite full. Both have considerable skill, neither +has genius. The statues of Miss Hosmer are marble +silences—they have nothing to say."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>Greece was before her. On June 17 the Journal +says:—</p> + +<p>"Acroceraunian mountains, shore of Albania. Nothing +strikes me—I have been struck till I am stricken +down. <i>Sirocco</i> and head wind—vessel laboring with +the sea, I with Guizot's 'Meditations,' which also have +some head wind in them. They seem to me inconclusive +in statement and commonplace in thought, yet +presenting some facts of interest. A little before 2 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> +we passed Fano, the island on which Calypso could not +console herself, and no wonder. At 2 we enter the +channel of Corfù."</p> + +<p>At Corfù a Turkish pacha came on board with his +harem, to our lively interest. The Journal gives every +observable detail of the somewhat squalid <i>ménage</i>, +from the pacha's lilac trousers down to the dress of +his son and heir, a singularly dirty baby. She remarks +that "An Irish servant's child in Boston, got up for +Sunday, looks far cleaner and better."</p> + +<p>The pacha looked indolent and good-natured, and +sent coffee to her before she disembarked at Syra. Here +she was met by Mr. Evangelides, the "Christy" of her +childhood, the Greek boy befriended by her father. +He was now a prosperous man in middle life, full of +affectionate remembrance of the family at 16 Bond +Street, and of gratitude to "dear Mr. Ward." He welcomed +her most cordially, and introduced her not only +to the beauties of Syra, but to its principal inhabitants, +the governor of the Cyclades, the archbishop, and Doctor +Hahn, the scientist and antiquary. She conversed +with the archbishop in German.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>"He deplored the absence of a state religion in +America. I told him that the progress of religion in +our country seemed to establish the fact that society +attains the best religious culture through the greatest +religious liberty. He replied that the members should +all be united under one head. 'Yes,' said I, 'but the +Head is invisible'; and he repeated after me, 'Indeed, +the Head is invisible.' I will here remark that nothing +could have been more refreshing to the New England +mind than this immediate introduction to the theological +opinions of the East."</p> + +<p>A few hours later his Grace returned the visit, seeking +in his turn, it would appear, the refreshment of a +new point of view.</p> + +<p>"We resumed our conversation of the morning, and +the celibacy of the clerical hierarchy came next in order +in our discussion. The father was in something of a +strait between the Christian dignification of marriage +and its ascetic depreciation. The arrival of other +visitors forced us to part, with this interesting point +still unsettled."</p> + +<p>Arrived in Athens, the travellers found the "veteran" +(as the Doctor is called throughout her book) in +full tide of work. The apartment in the pleasant hotel +swarmed with dark-eyed patriots, with Cretan refugees, +with old men who had known "Xaos" in the +brave days of old, with young men eager to see and +greet the old Philhellene. Among the latter came +Michael Anagnostopoulos, who was to become his +secretary, and later his son-in-law and his successor +at the Perkins Institution for the Blind. The ladies of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +Athens came too, full of hospitable feeling. There were +visits, deputations, committee meetings, all day long, +and in the evening parties and receptions.</p> + +<p>Spite of all this, her first impression of Athens was +melancholy. She was oppressed and depressed at sight +of the havoc wrought by Time and war upon monuments +that should have been sacred. Speaking of the +Parthenon, she exclaims:—</p> + +<p>"And Pericles caused it to be built; and this, his +marble utterance, is now a lame sentence, with half +its sense left out....</p> + +<p>"Here is the Temple of Victory. Within are the bas-reliefs +of the Victories arriving in the hurry of their +glorious errands. Something so they tumbled in upon +us when Sherman conquered the Carolinas, and Sheridan +the Valley of the Shenandoah, when Lee surrendered, +and the glad President went to Richmond. One +of these Victories is untying her sandal, in token of +permanent abiding. Yet all of them have trooped away +long since, scared by the hideous havoc of barbarians. +And the bas-reliefs, their marble shadows, have all +been battered and mutilated into the saddest mockery +of their original tradition. The statue of Wingless +Victory, that stood in the little temple, has long been +absent and unaccounted for. But the only Victory +that the Parthenon now can seize or desire is this very +Wingless Victory, the triumph of a power that retreats +not—the power of Truth.</p> + +<p>"I give heed to all that is told me in a dreary and +desolate manner. It is true, no doubt,—this was, and +this, and this; but what I see is, none the less, emptiness,—the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +broken eggshell of a civilization which +Time has hatched and devoured. And this incapacity +to reconstruct the past goes with me through most of +my days in Athens. The city is so modern, and its +circle so small! The trumpeters who shriek around the +Theseum in the morning, the café-keeper who taxes +you for a chair beneath the shadow of the Olympian +columns, the <i>custode</i> who hangs about to see that you +do not break the broken marbles further, or carry off +their piteous fragments, all of these are significant of +modern Greece; but the ruins have nothing to do with it.</p> + +<p>"Poor as these relics are, in comparison with what +one would wish them to be, they are still priceless. This +Greek marble is the noblest in descent; it needs no +eulogy. These forms have given the models for a hundred +familiar and commonplace works, which caught a +little gleam of their glory, squaring to shapeliness some +town-house of the West, or Southern bank or church. +So well do we know them in the prose of modern design +that we are startled at seeing them transfigured in the +poetry of their own conception. Poor old age! poor old +columns!"</p> + +<p>There was a colony of Cretan refugees at Nauplia, +another at Argos, both in dire need of food and clothing. +The Doctor asked the Government for a steamer, +and received the Parados, in which he promptly embarked +with wife, daughters, and supplies, and sailed +for Nauplia.</p> + +<p>The travelling library of this expedition was reduced +to "a copy of Machiavelli's '<i>Principe</i>,' a volume of +Muir's 'Greece,' and a Greek phrase-book on Ollendorff's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +principle." Our mother also took some worsted +work, but she suffered such lively torment from the +bites of mosquitoes and sand-fleas on her hands and +wrists that she could make little use of this. To one +recalling the anguish of this visitation, it seems amazing +that she could even write in her Journal; indeed, +the entries, though tolerably regular, are brief and +condensed.</p> + +<p>"<i>June 24....</i> We arrived in the harbor of Nauplia +by 7 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> ... Crowd in the street. Bandit's head just +cut off and brought in. We go to the prefect's house, ... +he offers us his roof—sends out for mattresses.... +I mad with my mosquito bites. Mattresses on the +floor. We women lie down four in a row, very thankfully...."</p> + +<p>At the fortress of Nauplia, she was deeply touched +by the sight of a band of prisoners waiting, in an +inner court, for the death to which they had been +condemned.</p> + +<p>"'Do not pity them, madam!' said the major; 'they +have all done deeds worthy of death.'</p> + +<p>"But how not to pity them," she cries, "when they +and we are made of the same fragile human stuff, that +corrupts so easily to crime, and is always redeemable, +if society would only afford the costly process of redemption!</p> + +<p>"As I looked at them, I was struck by a feeling of +their helplessness. What is there in the world so helpless +as a disarmed criminal? No inner armor has he to +beat back the rude visiting of society; no secure soul-citadel, +where scorn and anger cannot reach him. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +has thrown away the jewel of his manhood; human law +crushes its empty case. But the final Possessor and +Creditor is unseen."</p> + +<p>After Nauplia came Argos, where the Cretan refugees +were gathered in force. Here the travellers had +the great pleasure of helping to clothe the half-naked +women and children. Many of the garments had been +made by Florence and her young friends in their sewing +circle; the book recalls "how the little maidens took off +their feathery bonnets and dainty gloves, wielding the +heavy implements of cutting, and eagerly adjusting the +arms and legs, the gores and gathers! With patient +pride the mother trotted off to the bakery, that a few +buns might sustain these strenuous little cutters and +sewers, whose tongues, however active over the charitable +work, talked, we may be sure, no empty nonsense +nor unkind gossip. For charity begins indeed at home, +in the heart, and, descending to the fingers, rules also +the rebellious member whose mischief is often done +before it is meditated. At sight of these well-made +garments a little swelling of the heart seized us, with +the love and pride of remembrance so dear."</p> + +<p>The Journal describes briefly the distribution among +the Cretans, "some extremely bare and ragged, with +suffering little children. Our calico skirts and sacks +made a creditable appearance. We gave with as much +judgment as the short time permitted. Each name was +called by a list, and as they came in we hastily selected +garments: the dresses, however, gave out before we +had quite finished.... Ungrateful old woman, who +wanted a gown and would hardly take a chemise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +Meddlesome lady of the neighborhood bringing in her +favorites out of order."</p> + +<p>Generous as the supplies from America were, they +did not begin to meet the demand. After visiting Crete +(in spite—perhaps partly because—of the fact that +a high price was set on his head) and the various colonies +of refugees, the Doctor felt that further aid +must be obtained. Accordingly, the journeyings of +the little party after leaving Greece were for the most +part only less hurried than the earlier ones, the exception +being a week of enchantment spent in Venice, +awaiting the Doctor, who had been called back to +Athens at the moment of departure.</p> + +<p>The Journal tells of Verona, Innsbrück, Munich. +Then came flying glimpses of Switzerland, with a few +days' rest at Geneva, where she had the happiness of +meeting her sister once more; finally, Paris and the +Exposition of 1867.</p> + +<p>After a visit to Napoleon's tomb, she writes: "Spent +much of the afternoon in beginning a piece of tapestry +after a Pompeiian pattern copied by me on the spot."</p> + +<p>Worsted work was an unfailing accompaniment of +her journeyings in those days; indeed, until age and +weariness came upon her, she never failed to have some +piece of work on hand. When her eyes could no longer +compass cross-stitch embroidery, she amused herself +with knitting, or with "hooking" small rugs.</p> + +<p>Her sketchbook was another resource while travelling. +She had no special talent for drawing, but took +great pleasure in it, and was constantly making pencil +sketches of persons and things that interested her. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +even find patterns of Pompeiian mosaic or of historic +needlework reproduced in the Journal.</p> + +<p>From Paris the travellers hurried to Belgium, and +after a glance at Brussels, spent several days in Antwerp +with great contentment. Both here and in Brussels +she had been much interested in the beautiful lace +displayed on every hand. She made several modest +purchases, not without visitings of conscience.</p> + +<p>"I went to the Cathedral.... I saw to-day the +Elevation of the Cross [Rubens] to special advantage. +As I stood before it, I felt lifted for a moment +above the mean and foolish pleasures of shopping, etc., +on which I have of late dwelt so largely. The heroic +face before me said, 'You cannot have those and these, +cannot have Christian elevation with heathen triviality.' +That moment showed me what a picture can do. +I hope I shall remember it, though I do plead guilty of +late to an extraordinary desire for finery of all sorts. +It is as if I were going home to play the part of Princess +in some great drama, which is not at all likely to +be the case."</p> + +<p>Yet the same day she went to the beguinage and +bought "Flossy's wedding hdkf, 22 frc—lace scarf, +3 fr., piece of edging, 4 fr."</p> + +<p>Among the notabilities of Antwerp in those days was +Charles Félu, the armless painter. He was to be seen +every day in the Museum, copying the great masters +with skill and fidelity. He interested the Doctor +greatly, and the whole party made acquaintance with +him. A letter from one of them describes the meeting +with this singular man:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>"As we were looking round at the pictures, I noticed +a curious painting arrangement. There was a platform +raised about a foot above the floor, with two stools, +one in front of the other, and an easel. Presently the +artist entered. The first thing he did, on stepping on +the platform, was to kick off his shoes. He then seated +himself (Heaven knows how) on one stool and placed +his feet in front of him on the other, close before the +easel. I was surprised to see that his stockings had no +toes to them. But my surprise was much greater when +I saw him take the palette in one foot and the brush in +the other, and begin to paint. The nicety with which +he picked out his brushes, rubbed the paints, erased +with his great toe, etc., was a mystery to me.... In a +few minutes he put his foot into his pocket, drew out a +paper from which he took his card, and <i>footed</i> it politely +to papa.... He shaves himself, plays billiards (and +well, too), cards, and dominoes, cuts up his meat and +feeds himself, etc."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 1.</i> By accident went to the same hotel [in +Bruges] to which I went twenty-four years ago, a bride. +I recognized a staircase with a balustrade of swans +each holding a stiff bulrush in its mouth.... Made a +little verse thereupon."</p> + +<p>From Belgium the way led to London; thence, after +a brief and delightful visit to the Bracebridges at +Atherstone, to Liverpool, where the China awaited her +passengers. The voyage was long and stormy, thirteen +days: the Journal speaks chiefly of its discomforts; but +on the second Sunday we read: "X. preached a horrible +sermon—stood up and mocked at philosophy in good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +English and bad Christianity. He failed alike of satire +and of sense, and talked like a small Pharisee of two +thousand years ago. 'Not much like the Sermon on +the Mount,' quoth I; not theology enough to stand +examination at Andover. Bluejackets in a row, unedified, +as were most of us."</p> + +<p>On October 25 the travellers landed in Boston, +thankful to be again on firm land, and to see the family +unit once more complete.</p> + +<p>"The dear children came on board to greet us—all +well, and very happy at our return."</p> + +<p>Thus ends the story, seven months of wonder and +of delight.</p> + +<p>At her Club, soon after, she gave the following epitome +of the trip, singing the doggerel lines to an improvised +tune which matched them in absurdity:—</p> + +<p> +Oh! who were the people you saw, Mrs. Howe,<br /> +When you went where the Cretans were making a row?<br /> +Kalopathaki—Rodocanachi—<br /> +Paparipopoulos—Anagnostopoulos—<br /> +Nicolaïdes—Paraskevaïdes—<br /> +These were the people that saw Mrs. Howe<br /> +When she went where the Cretans were making a row.<br /> +<br /> +Oh! what were the projects you made, Mrs. Howe,<br /> +When you went where the Cretans were making a row?<br /> +Emancipation—civilization—redintegration of a great nation,<br /> +Paying no taxes, grinding no axes—<br /> +Flinging the Ministers over the banisters.<br /> +These were the projects of good Mrs. Howe<br /> +When she went where the Cretans were making a row.<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> +<br /> +Oh! give us a specimen, dear Mrs. Howe,<br /> +Of the Greek that you learned and are mistress of now.<br /> +Potichomania—Mesopotamia.<br /> +Tatterdemalion—episcopalian—<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>Megalotherium—monster inferium—<br /> +Scoulevon—auctrion—infant phenomenon.<br /> +Kyrie ticamete—what's your calamity?<br /> +Pallas Athenae Aun,<br /> +Favors no Fenian.<br /> +Such is the language that learned Mrs. Howe,<br /> +In the speech of the Gods she is mistress of now. +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>CONCERNING CLUBS</h3> + +<h4>1867-1871; <i>aet.</i> 48-52</h4> + +<p> +"Behold," he said, "Life's great impersonate,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Nourished by labor!</span><br /> +Thy gods are gone with old-time faith and fate;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Here is thy Neighbor."</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H., "A New Sculptor."</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />After such a rush of impression and emotion, the +return to everyday life could not fail to bring about a +corresponding drop in our mother's mental barometer. +Vexations awaited her. The Boylston Place house had +been let for a year, and—Green Peace being also let +on a long lease—the reunited family took refuge for +the winter in the "Doctor's Wing" of the Perkins +Institution.</p> + +<p>Again, an extremely unfavorable critique of "Later +Lyrics" in a prominent review distressed her greatly; +her health was more or less disturbed; above all, the +sudden death of John A. Andrew, the beloved and +honored friend of many years, saddened both her and +the Doctor deeply.</p> + +<p>All these things affected her spirits to some extent, +so that the Journal for the remainder of 1867 is in a +minor key.</p> + +<p>"... In despair about the house...."</p> + +<p>On hearing of the separation of Charles Sumner from +his wife:—</p> + +<p>"For men and women to come together is nature—for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +them to live together is art—to live well, high +art."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 21.</i> Melancholy, thinking that I did but +poorly last evening [at a reading from her 'Notes on +Travel' at the Church of the Disciples].... At the +afternoon concert felt a savage and tearful melancholy, +a profound friendlessness. In the whole large assembly +I saw no one who would help me to do anything +worthy of my powers and life-ideal. I have so dreamed +of high use that I cannot decline to a life of amusement +or of small occupation."</p> + +<p>"... I believe in God, but am utterly weary of man."</p> + +<p>After a disappointment:—</p> + +<p>"... To church, where my mental condition speedily +improved. Sermon on the Good Samaritan. Hymns +and prayers all congenial and consoling. Felt much +consoled and uplifted out of all petty discords and disappointments. +A disappointment should be digested +in patience, not vomited in spleen. Bitter morsels +nourish the soul, not less perhaps than sweet. Thought +of the following: Moral philosophy begins with the +fact of accepting human life."</p> + +<p>In November came a new interest which was to +mean much to her.</p> + +<p>"Early in town to attend the Free Religious Club. +Weiss's essay was well written, but encumbered with +illustrations rarely pertinent. It was neither religion, +philosophy, nor cosmology, but a confusion of all three, +showing the encyclopædic aim of his culture. It advocated +the natural to the exclusion of the supernatural. +Being invited to speak, I suggested real and ideal as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +better antithesis for thought than natural and supernatural. +Weiss did all that his method would allow. +He is a man of parts. I cannot determine how much, +but the Parkerian standard, or a similar one, has +deformed his reasoning powers. He seeks something +better than Christianity without having half penetrated +the inner significance of that religion.</p> + +<p>"Alcott spoke in the idealistic direction. Also +Wasson very well. Lucretia Mott exceptionally well, +a little rambling, but with true womanly intuitions of +taste and of morality."</p> + +<p>This association of thinkers was afterwards known +as the "Boston Radical Club." She has much to say +about it in her "Reminiscences."</p> + +<p>"I did, indeed," she says, "hear at these meetings +much that pained and even irritated me. The disposition +to seek outside the limits of Christianity for all +that is noble and inspiring in religious culture, and to +recognize especially within these limits the superstition +and intolerance which have been the bane of all religions—this +disposition, which was frequently manifested +both in the essays presented and in their discussion, +offended not only my affections, but also my sense +of justice....</p> + +<p>"Setting this one point aside, I can but speak of the +Club as a high congress of souls, in which many noble +thoughts were uttered. Nobler than any special view +or presentation was the general sense of the dignity of +human character and of its affinity with things divine, +which always gave the master tone to the discussions."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>She says elsewhere of the Radical Club:—</p> + +<p>"The really radical feature in it was the fact that the +thoughts presented at its meetings had a root; were +in that sense radical.... Here I have heard Wendell +Phillips, and Oliver Wendell Holmes, John Weiss and +James Freeman Clarke, Athanase Coquerel, the noble +French Protestant preacher; William Henry Channing, +worthy nephew of his great uncle; Colonel Higginson, +Doctor Bartol, and many others. Extravagant things +were sometimes said, no doubt, and the equilibrium of +ordinary persuasion was not infrequently disturbed for +a time. But the satisfaction of those present when a +sound basis of thought was vindicated and established +is indeed pleasant in remembrance...."</p> + +<p>"To Dickens's second reading, which I enjoyed very +much. The 'wreck' in 'David Copperfield' was finely +given. His appearance is against success; the face +is rather commonplace, seen at a distance, and very +red if seen through a glass: the voice worn and +<i>blasé</i>."</p> + +<p>"... Club in the evening, at which my nonsense +made people laugh, as I wished...."</p> + +<p>"A little intoxicated with the pleasure of having +made people laugh. A fool, however, can often do this +better than a wise man. I look earnestly for a higher +task. Yet innocent, intelligent laughter is not to be +despised."</p> + +<p>"Was taken with verses in church. They did not +prove nearly as good as I had hoped...."</p> + +<p>"Made three beds, to help Bridget, who had the +washing alone. Read a difficult chapter in Fichte."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>"Studied and worried as usual,—Fichte and +Greek...."</p> + +<p>"Have not been strenuous enough about the Cretan +Fair...."</p> + +<p>Any lack of strenuousness about the Cretan Fair +was amply atoned for.</p> + +<p>An "Appeal" was published, written by her and +signed by Julia Ward Howe, Emily Talbot, Sarah E. +Lawrence, Caroline A. Mudge, and Abby W. May.</p> + +<p>"What shall we say? They are a great way off, but +they are starving and perishing, as none in our midst +can starve and perish, and we Americans are among +the few persons to whom they can look for help."</p> + +<p>In this cry for aid we hear the voice of both parents. +The response was cordial and generous. The fair was +held in Easter Week, at the Boston Music Hall, and +recalled on a smaller scale the glories of the war-time +fairs. Of the great labor of preparation, the Journal +gives a lively impression; and "speaking for Crete" +was added to the other burdens borne by her and the +Doctor.</p> + +<p>She could not give up her studies; the entries for +the winter of 1867-68 are a curious mingling of Fichte +and committees, with here and there a prayer for +spiritual help and guidance, which shows her overwrought +condition.</p> + +<p>Another interest had come to her from the visit to +Greece: the study of ancient Greek. Latin had been +her lifelong friend, but she had always longed for the +sister classic; now the time was ripe for it. She made +a beginning in Athens, not only picking up a good deal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +of modern Greek, but attacking the ancient language +with the aid of primer and phrase-book. A valuable +teacher was at hand in Michael Anagnos,<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> who +was aiding the Doctor as secretary, and preparing +himself for the principal work of his life. Anagnos +encouraged and assisted her in the new study, which +became one of her greatest delights. She looked forward +to a Greek lesson as girls do to a ball; in later life +she was wont to say, "My Greek is my diamond necklace!"</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>January 1, 1868.</i> May I this year have energy, +patience, good-will and good faith. May I be guilty +of no treason against duty and my best self. May I +acquire more system, order, and wisdom in the use +of things. May I, if God wills, carry out some of my +plans for making my studies useful to others. This is +much to ask, but not too much of Him who giveth +all."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 24.</i> A dreadfully busy day. Meeting of +General Committee on Cretan Fair.... Felt overcome +with fatigue, and nervous and fretful, but I am +quite sure that I do not rave as I used to do...."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 26.</i> Some mental troubles have ended +in a determination to hold fast till death the liberty +wherewith Christ has made me free. The joyous belief +that his doctrine of influences can keep me from all +that I should most greatly dread, lifts me up like a pair +of strong wings. 'I shall run and not be weary. I shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +walk and not faint.' At church the first hymn contained +this line:—</p> + +<p> +"'Her fathers' God before her moved'—<br /> +</p> + +<p>which quite impressed me, for my father's piety and +the excellence of other departed relatives have always +of late years been a support and pledge to me of my +own good behavior."</p> + +<p>* * * +* * * +</p> + +<p>"The thief's heart, the wanton's brow, may accompany +high talent and geniality of temperament; but +thanks be to God they <i>need</i> not."</p> + +<p>"... Wished I could make a fine poetic picture of +Paul preaching at Mars Hill. On the one side, the glittering +statues and brilliant mythology—on the other, +the simplicity of the Christian life and doctrine. But +to-day no pictures came."</p> + +<p>* * * +* * *</p> + +<p>"Got Anagnos to help me read two odes of Anacreon. +This was a great pleasure."</p> + +<p>* * * +* * *</p> + +<p>"Much business—no Greek lesson. I was feeble in +mind and body, and brooded over the loss of the lesson +in a silly manner. Habit is to me not second, but first +nature, and I easily become mechanical and fixed in my +routine.... I confess that to lay down Greek now +would be to die, like Moses, in sight of the promised +land. All my life I have longed for this language...."</p> + +<p>"All of these days are mixed of satisfaction and dissatisfaction. +I am pretty well content with my work, +not as well with myself. I feel the need of earnest +prayer and divine help...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>"I had been invited to read the essay to the Radical +Religious Club on this day at 10 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> I asked leave for +Anagnos and took him with me. My dæmon [Socratic] +had told me to read 'Doubt and Belief,' so I chose this +and read it. I find my dæmon justified. It seemed to +have a certain fitness in calling forth discussion. Mr. +Emerson first spoke very beautifully, then Mr. Alcott, +these two sympathizing in my view. Wasson followed, +a little off, but with a very friendly contrast.... Much +of this talk was very interesting. It was all marked by +power and sincerity, but Emerson and Alcott understood +my essay better than the others except J. F. C. +I introduced Anagnos to Emerson. I told him that he +had seen the Olympus of New England. Thought of +my dear lost son, dead in this house [13 Chestnut +Street, where the meeting was held]. Anagnos is a dear +son to me. I brought him home to dinner, and count +this a happy day."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"I have heard the true word of God to-day from +Frederick Hedge—a sermon on Love as the true bond +of society, which lifted my weak soul as on the strong +wings of a cherub. The immortal truths easily lost sight +of in our everyday weakness and passion stood out +to-day so strong and clear that I felt their healing power +as if Christ had stood and touched my blinded eyes with +his divine finger. So be it always! <i>Esto perpetua!</i>"</p> + +<p>On April 13 the fair opened; a breathless week followed. +She was much exhausted after it, but in a few +days "began to rehearse for Festival."<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>"After extreme depression, I begin to take heart a +little. Almighty God help me!</p> + +<p>"Greek lesson—rehearsal in the evening—choral +symphony and <i>Lobgesang</i>."</p> + +<p>During the summer of 1868 she had great pleasure in +reading some of her essays at Newport, in the Unitarian +Church. She notes in her "Reminiscences" that one +lady kissed her after the reading, saying, "This is the +way I want to hear women speak"; and that Mrs. +P—— S——, on hearing the words, "If God works, +madam, you can afford to work also!" rose and went +out, saying, "I won't listen to such stuff as this!"</p> + +<p>The parlor readings brought her name into wider +prominence. She began to receive invitations to read +and speak in public.</p> + +<p>Mr. Emerson wrote to her concerning her philosophical +readings: "The scheme is excellent—to read +thus—so new and rare, yet so grateful to all parties. +It costs genius to invent our simplest pleasures."</p> + +<p>The winter of 1867-68 saw the birth of another institution +which was to be of lifelong interest to her: the +New England Woman's Club. This, one of the earliest +of women's clubs, was organized on February 16, +1868, with Mrs. Caroline M. Severance, in whose +mind the idea had first taken shape, as president. +Its constitution announces the objects of the association +as "primarily, to furnish a quiet, central resting-place, +and place of meeting in Boston, for the comfort +and convenience of its members: and ultimately +to become an organized social centre for united thought +and action."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>How far the second clause has outdone and outshone +the first, is known to all who know anything of the +history of women's clubs. From the New England +Woman's Club and its cousin Sorosis, founded a +month later in New York, has grown the great network +of clubs which, like a beneficent railway system +of thought and good-will, penetrates every nook and +corner of this country.</p> + +<p>Our mother was one of the first vice-presidents of the +Club, and from 1871 to her death in 1910, with two +brief intervals, its president. Among all the many +associations with which she was connected this was +perhaps the nearest to her heart. "My dear Club!" no +other organization brought such a tender ring to her +voice. She never willingly missed a meeting; the +monthly teas were among her great delights. The +Journal has much to say about the Club: "a good +meeting"; "a thoughtful, earnest meeting," are frequent +entries. "Why!" she cried once, "we may be +living in the Millennium without knowing it!"</p> + +<p>In her "Reminiscences," after telling how she attended +the initial meeting, and "gave a languid assent +to the measure proposed," she adds:—</p> + +<p>"Out of this small beginning was gradually developed +the plan of the New England Woman's Club, a +strong and stately association, destined, I believe, to +last for many years, and having behind it, at this time +of my writing, a record of three decades of happy and +acceptable service."</p> + +<p>The Club movement was henceforth to be one of her +widest interests. To thousands of elder women in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +late sixties and early seventies it came like a new +gospel of activity and service. They had reared their +children and seen them take flight; moreover, they had +fought through the war, their hearts in the field, their +fingers plying needle and thread. They had been active +in committees and commissions the country over; had +learned to work with and beside men, finding joy and +companionship and inspiration in such work. How +could they go back to the chimney-corner life of the +fifties? In answer to their question—an answer from +Heaven, it seemed—came the women's clubs, with +their opportunities for self-culture and for public +service.</p> + +<p>At first Society looked askance at the movement. +What? Women's clubs? They would take women away +from the Home, which was their Sphere! Shocking! +Besides, it might make them Strong-Minded! Horrible! +("But," said J. W. H., "I would rather be strong-minded +than weak-minded!")</p> + +<p>Possibly influenced in some measure by such plaints +as these, the early clubs devoted themselves for the +most part to study, and their range of activities was +strictly limited and defined. This, however, could not +last. The Doctor used to say, "You may as well refuse +to let out the growing boy's trousers as refuse larger +and larger liberty to his growing individuality!" +Even so the club petticoats had to be lengthened and +amplified.</p> + +<p>Our mother, with all her love of study, realized that +no individual or group of individuals must neglect the +present with its living issues for any past, however<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +beautiful. She threw her energies into widening the +club horizon. "Don't tie too many <i>nots</i> in your constitution!" +she would say to a young club; and then +she would tell how Florence Nightingale cut the +Gordian knots of red tape in the Crimea.</p> + +<p>Did the constitution enforce such and such limits? +Ah! but committees were not thus limited; let a committee +be appointed, to do what the club could not! +(This was what the Doctor called "whipping the devil +round the stump!")</p> + +<p>Many and many a reform had its beginning in one +of those quiet Park Street rooms of the "N. E. W. C." +"When I want anything in Boston remedied," said +Edward Everett Hale, "I go down to the New England +Woman's Club!"</p> + +<p>When the General Federation of Women's Clubs +was formed in 1892, our mother served on the board +of directors for four years, and was then made an +honorary vice-president. She was also president of +the Massachusetts State Federation from 1893 to +1898, and thereafter honorary president.</p> + +<p>Dr. Holmes once said to her, "Mrs. Howe, I consider +you eminently clubable"; and he added that he himself +was not. He told us why, when he adopted the +title of "Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table." The most +brilliant of talkers, he did not care to listen, as a good +club member must. Now, she too loved talking, but +perhaps she loved listening even more. No one who +knew her in her later years can forget how intently she +listened, how joyously she received information of +any and every kind. She never was tired; she always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +wanted more. All human experience thrilled her; the +choreman, the dressmaker, the postman, the caller; +one and all, she hung on their words. After a half-hour +with her, seeing her face alight with sympathy, +her delicate lips often actually forming the words as +he spoke them, the dullest person might go away on +air, feeling himself a born <i>raconteur</i>. What she said +once of Mr. Emerson, "He always came into a room +as if he expected to receive more than he gave!" was +true of herself.</p> + +<p>To return to the clubs! At a biennial meeting of +the General Federation in Philadelphia, she said: +"What did the club life give me? Understanding of +my own sex; faith in its moral and intellectual growth. +Like so many others, I saw the cruel wrongs and vexed +problems of our social life, but I did not know that hidden +away in its own midst was a reserve force destined +to give precious aid in the righting of wrongs, and in +the solution of discords. In the women's clubs I found +the immense power which sympathy exercises in bringing +out the best aspirations of the woman nature.... +To guard against dangers, we must do our utmost to +uphold and keep in view the high object which has, in +the first instance, called us together; and let this be +no mere party catchword or cry, as East against West, +or North against South. We can afford to meet as +citizens of one common country, and to love and serve +the whole as one."</p> + +<p>She believed firmly in maintaining the privacy of +club life. "The club is a larger home," she said, "and +we wish to have the immunities and defences of home;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +therefore we do not wish the public present, even by +its attorney, the reporter."</p> + +<p>The three following years were important ones to +the Howe family.</p> + +<p>Lawton's Valley was sold, to our great and lasting +grief: and—after a summer spent at Stevens Cottage +near Newport—the Doctor bought the place now +known as "Oak Glen," scarce half a mile from the Valley; +a place to become only less dear to the family. +No. 19 Boylston Place was also sold, and he bought +No. 32 Mount Vernon Street, a sunny, pleasant house +whose spacious rooms and tall windows recalled the +Chestnut Street house, always regretted.</p> + +<p>Here life circled ever faster and faster, fuller and +fuller. Our father, though beginning to feel the weight +of years, had not yet begun to "take in sail," but continued +to pile labor on labor, adding the new while +never abandoning the old. For our mother clubs, societies, +studies were multiplying, while for both family +cares and interests were becoming more and more +complicated. The children were now mostly grown. +To the mother's constant thought and anxiety about +their teeth, their hair, their eyes, their music, their +dancing—to say nothing of the weightier matters of +the law—was added the consideration of their ball +dresses, their party slippers, their partners. She went +with the daughters to ball and assembly; if they +danced, she was happy; if not, there was grief behind +the cheerful smile, and a sigh was confided to the +Journal next day.</p> + +<p>Romance hovered over No. 32 Mount Vernon Street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +The Greek lessons which were to mean so much to +Julia and Laura were brought to a sudden end by the +engagement of Julia to the Greek teacher, Michael +Anagnos. Florence (who was now housekeeper, lightening +our mother's cares greatly) was already engaged +to David Prescott Hall; while Laura's engagement to +Henry Richards was announced shortly after Julia's.</p> + +<p>The three marriages followed at intervals of a few +months. Meantime Harry, whose youthful pranks had +been the terror of both parents, had graduated from +Harvard, and was now, after two years<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> at the Massachusetts +Institute of Technology, beginning his chosen +work as a metallurgist.</p> + +<p>She wrote of this beloved son:—</p> + +<p> +God gave my son a palace,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And a kingdom to control;</span><br /> +The palace of his body,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The kingdom of his soul.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>In childhood and boyhood this "palace" was inhabited +by a tricksy sprite. At two years Harry was +pulling the tails of the little dogs on the Roman Pincio; +at eighteen he was filling the breasts of the college +authorities with the same emotions inspired by his +father in the previous generation.</p> + +<p>"Howe," said the old President of Brown University, +when the Chevalier called to pay his respects +on his return from Greece, "I am afraid of you now! +There may be a fire-cracker under my chair at this +moment!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>Once out of college, it fared with the son as with the +father. The current of restless energy hitherto devoted +to "monkey shines" (as the Doctor called them) was +now turned into another channel. Work, hardly less +arduous and unremitting than his father's, became the +habit of his life. Science claimed him, and her he +served with the same singleness of purpose, the same +intensity of devotion with which his parents served +the causes that claimed them. He married, in 1874, +Fannie, daughter of Willard Gay, of Troy, New York.</p> + +<p>We love to recall the time at this house on Beacon +Hill. We remember it as a cheerful house, ringing with +song and laughter, yet with a steady undercurrent of +work and thought; the "precious time," not to be +interrupted; the coming and going of grave men and +earnest women, all bent on high and hopeful errands, +all seeking our two Wise Ones for counsel, aid, sympathy; +the coming and going also of a steady stream +of "lame ducks" of both sexes and all nationalities, all +requiring help, most of them getting it; yet, as ever, +the father leaving State Charities and Reforms, the +mother flying from Fichte or Xenophon, at any real +or fancied need of any child. It is thus that we love +to think of No. 32 Mount Vernon Street, the last of +the many homes in which we were all together.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE PEACE CRUSADE</h3> + +<h4>1870-1872; <i>aet.</i> 51-53</h4> + +<p>ENDEAVOR</p> + +<p> +"What hast thou for thy scattered seed,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O Sower of the plain?</span><br /> +Where are the many gathered sheaves<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy hope should bring again?"</span><br /> +"The only record of my work<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lies in the buried grain."</span><br /> +<br /> +"O Conqueror of a thousand fields!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In dinted armor dight,</span><br /> +What growths of purple amaranth<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shall crown thy brow of might?"</span><br /> +"Only the blossom of my life<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Flung widely in the fight."</span><br /> +<br /> +"What is the harvest of thy saints,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O God! who dost abide?</span><br /> +Where grow the garlands of thy chiefs<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In blood and sorrow dyed?</span><br /> +What have thy servants for their pains?"<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"This only,—to have tried."</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />When a branch is cut from a vigorous tree, Nature +at once sets to work to adjust matters. New juices +flow, new tissues form, the wound is scarfed over, and +after a time is seen only as a scar. Not here, but elsewhere, +does the new growth take place, the fresh green +shoots appear, more vigorous for the pruning.</p> + +<p>Thus it was with our mother's life, as one change +after another came across it. Little Sam died, and +her heart withered with him: then religion and study +came to her aid, and through them she reached another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +blossoming time of thought and accomplishment +Now, with the marriage and departure of the children, +still another notable change was wrought, rather +joyful than sorrowful, but none the less marking an +epoch.</p> + +<p>Up to this time (1871) the wide, sunny rooms of +the house on Beacon Hill had been filled with young, +active life. The five children, their friends, their music, +their parties, their talk and laughter, kept youth +and gayety at full tide: the green branches grew and +blossomed.</p> + +<p>For all five she had been from their cradle not only +mistress of the revels and chief musician, but spur and +beacon of mind and soul.</p> + +<p>Now four of the five were transplanted to other +ground. Many women, confronting changes like these, +say to themselves, "It is over. For me there is no more +active life; instead, the shelf and the chimney corner." +This woman, lifting her eyes from the empty spaces, +saw Opportunity beckoning from new heights, and +moved gladly to meet her. Now, as ever, she "staked +her life upon the red."</p> + +<p>The empty spaces must be filled. Study no longer +sufficed: the need of serving humanity actively, hand +and foot, pen and voice, was now urgent.</p> + +<p>Her first work under this new impulse was for peace. +The Franco-Prussian War of 1870 made a deep and +painful impression upon her. She had felt a bitter dislike +for Louis Napoleon ever since the day when he +"stabbed France in her sleep" by the <i>Coup d'État</i> of +December, 1851; but she loved France and the French<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +people; the overwhelming defeat, the bitter humiliation +suffered by them filled her with sorrow and indignation. +In a lecture on Paris she says: "The great +Exposition of 1867 had drawn together an immense +crowd from all parts of the world. Among its marvels, +my recollection dwells most upon the gallery of French +paintings, in which I stood more than once before a +full-length portrait of the then Emperor.<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> I looked into +the face which seemed to say: 'I have succeeded. +What has any one to say about it?' And I pondered +the slow movements of that heavenly Justice whose +infallible decrees are not to be evaded."</p> + +<p>Her "Reminiscences" say: "As I was revolving +these matters in my mind, while the war was still in +progress, I was visited by a sudden feeling of the cruel +and unnecessary character of the contest. It seemed to +me a return to barbarism, the issue having been one +which might easily have been settled without bloodshed. +The question forced itself upon me, 'Why do +not the mothers of mankind interfere in these matters, +to prevent the waste of that human life of which they +alone bear and know the cost?' I had never thought of +this before. The august dignity of motherhood and its +terrible responsibilities now appeared to me in a new +aspect, and I could think of no better way of expressing +my sense of these than that of sending forth an appeal +to womanhood throughout the world, which I then and +there composed."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>This appeal is dated Boston, September, 1870.</p> + + +<p class="center">APPEAL TO WOMANHOOD THROUGHOUT THE WORLD</p> + +<blockquote><p>Again, in the sight of the Christian world, have the skill +and power of two great nations exhausted themselves in +mutual murder. Again have the sacred questions of international +justice been committed to the fatal mediation of military +weapons. In this day of progress, in this century of +light, the ambition of rulers has been allowed to barter the +dear interests of domestic life for the bloody exchanges of +the battle-field. Thus men have done. Thus men will do. +But women need no longer be made a party to proceedings +which fill the globe with grief and horror. Despite the +assumptions of physical force, the mother has a sacred and +commanding word to say to the sons who owe their life to +her suffering. That word should now be heard, and answered +to as never before.</p> + +<p>Arise, then, Christian women of this day! Arise, all +women who have hearts, whether your baptism be that of +water or of tears! Say firmly: "We will not have great questions +decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not +come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. +Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we +have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. +We, women of one country, will be too tender of those of +another country, to allow our sons to be trained to injure +theirs." From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice +goes up with our own. It says: "Disarm, disarm! The sword +of murder is not the balance of justice." Blood does not +wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession. As men +have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons +of war, let women now leave all that may be left of +home for a great and earnest day of counsel.</p> + +<p>Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate +the dead. Let them then solemnly take counsel with +each other as to the means whereby the great human family +can live in peace, man as the brother of man, each bearing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +after his own kind the sacred impress, not of Cæsar, but of +God.</p> + +<p>In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly +ask that a general congress of women, without limit of +nationality, may be appointed and held at some place +deemed most convenient, and at the earliest period consistent +with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different +nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, +the great and general interests of peace.</p></blockquote> + +<p>The appeal was translated into French, Spanish, +Italian, German, and Swedish, and sent broadcast far +and wide.</p> + +<p>In October our mother wrote to Aaron Powell, president +of the American Peace Society: "The issue is one +which will unite virtually the whole sex. God gave us, +I think, the word to say, but it ought to be followed by +immediate and organizing action.... Now, you, my +dear sir, are bound, as a Friend and as an Advocate of +Peace, to take especial interest in this matter, so I call +upon you a little confidently, hoping that you will help +my unbusinesslike and unskilful hands to go on with +this good work. I wish to avoid occasioning any confusion +in the different meetings and organizations of +the Woman Suffrage Movement. But I should wish +to move for various meetings in which the matter of +my appeal, the direct intervention of Woman in the +Pacification of the World, should be discussed, and the +final move of a general Congress promoted. Please +take hold a little now and help me. I have wings but +no feet nor hands—rather, only a voice, '<i>vox et praeterea +nihil</i>.'"</p> + +<p>The next step was to call together those persons supposedly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +interested in such a movement. In December, +1870, it was announced that a meeting "for the purpose +of considering and arranging the steps necessary +to be taken for calling a World's Congress of Women +in behalf of International Peace" would be held in +Union League Hall, Madison Avenue and Twenty-sixth +Street, New York, on Friday, December 23. The +announcement, which sets forth the need for and objects +of such a congress, is signed by Julia Ward Howe, +William Cullen Bryant, and Mary F. Davis.</p> + +<p>The meeting was an important one: there were +addresses by Lucretia Mott, Octavius Frothingham, +and Alfred Love, the Peace prophet of Philadelphia; +letters from John Stuart Mill, Harriet Beecher Stowe, +and William Howard Furness, who adjures peace-lovers +to "labor for the establishment of a Supreme +Court to which all differences between nations shall be +referred for settlement."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Howe made the opening address, from which +we quote these words:—</p> + +<p>"So I repeat my call and cry to women. Let it pierce +through dirt and rags—let it pierce through velvet +and cashmere. It is the call of humanity. It says: +'Help others, and you help yourselves.'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Let the woman seize and bear about the prophetic +word of the hour, and that word becomes flesh, and +dwells among men. This rapturous task of hope, this +perpetual evangel of good news, is the woman's special +business, if she only knew it.</p> + +<p>"Patience and passivity are sometimes in place for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +women—not always. I think of this when I go to +women, intelligent and charming, who warn me off +with white hands, unaccustomed to any graver labor +than that of gesticulation. 'Don't ask me to work,' +they say; 'I cannot do it. God always raises up a set of +people to do these things, like the Anti-Slavery people, +and they set to work to do them.' And then I want to +say to these friends: 'God can raise you up too, and I +hope He will.'</p> + +<p>"As for what one can or cannot do, remember that, +active or passive, we must work to live. If we have not +real labor, we must have simulated exercise. If we +have not real objects, we must have fanciful caprices, +little less exertion than keeps us in the padded chair +would take us out of it, and send us to try whether +nature has made any special exemption in our cases, +and whether the paralysis of our life need be traced +further outward than our self-centred heart....</p> + +<p>"Would that I were still young, as are many of you; +would at least that I had followed the angel of my +youth as gravely and steadfastly as he invited me; but +the world taught, applauded in another direction, and +I was at fault. But from this assembly a will might go +forth, an earnest will, quick with love, and heavy with +meaning. And this will might say to our sisters all over +the world, 'Trifle no more.' If women did not waste +life in frivolity, men would not waste it in murder. For +the tenderness of the one class is set by God to restrain +the violence of the other."</p> + +<p>The New York meeting was followed by one in +Boston. In the spring of 1871 the friends of peace met<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +in the rooms of the New England Woman's Club, and +formed an American Branch of the Women's International +Peace Association: Julia Ward Howe, president. +It took five meetings to accomplish this; the minutes +of these meetings are curious and interesting.</p> + +<p>Mr. Moncure D. Conway wrote objecting strongly +to the movement being announced as Christian: his +objections were courteously considered.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Mrs. Howe gave her reasons for making her Appeal +in the name of Christianity. She found the doctrine of +peace and forgiveness of injuries the most fundamental +of the Christian doctrines. She thought it proper to +say so, but did not by this prevent the believers in +other religions from asserting the same doctrine, if +considered as existing in those religions."</p> + +<p>Mr. Conway's objection was overruled.</p> + +<p>The object of the association was "to promote peace, +by the study and culture of its conditions." A "notice" +appended to the constitution announced, "This Association +proposes to hold a World's Congress of Women, +in London, in the summer of 1872, in which undertaking +the cooperation of all persons is earnestly invited."</p> + +<p>Before continuing the story of this peace crusade, +we return to the Journal. The volume for 1871 is fragmentary, +the entries mostly brief and far apart. +Written and blank pages are alike significant of the +movement going on in her mind, the steadily growing +desire and resolve to dedicate her life, as her husband +had dedicated his, to the highest needs of humanity.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 20.</i> Have been ill all these days. Had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +divine glimpse this day, between daylight and dusk, +of something like this—a beautiful person splendidly +dressed entering a theatre as I have often done with +entire delight and forgetfulness of everything else, and +the restraining hand of Christ holding me back in the +outer darkness—the want and woe of the world, and +saying, 'The true drama of life is <i>here</i>.' Oh! that +restraining hand had in it the true touch, communicating +knowledge of human sorrow and zeal for human +service. Never may I escape it to my grave!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"I confess that I value more those processes of +thought which explain history than those which arraign +it. I would not therefore in my advocacy of peace strip +one laurel leaf from the graves so dear and tender in our +recollection. Our brave men did and dared the best +which the time allowed. The sorrow for their loss was +none the less brought upon us by those who believed in +the military method. It is not in injustice to them that +I listen while the Angel of Charity says: 'Behold, I +show you a more excellent way.' Again, 'Come now, +let us reason together, saith the Lord. Though your +sins be as scarlet, they shall be as wool.' This treating +of injuries from the high ground of magnanimity +is the action that shall save the world."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"The special faults of women are those incidental to a +class that has never been allowed to work out its ideal."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Must work to earn some money, but will not sacrifice +greater ends to this one."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>"Hear that the Greek mission is given to an editor in +Troy, New York. Sad for Greece and for Chev, who +longs so to help her."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Civil liberty is that which the one cannot have +without the many, or the many without the one. The +liberty of the State, like its solvency, concerns and +affects all its citizens. Equal sacredness of rights is its +political side, equal stringency of duties its moral side. +The virtue of single individuals will not give them civil +liberty in a despotic state, but the only safeguard of +civil liberty to all is the virtue of each individual."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"You men by your vice and selfishness have created +for women a hideous profession, whose ranks you +recruit from the unprotected, the innocent, the ignorant. +This is the only profession, so far as I know, +that man has created for women.</p> + +<p>"We will create professions for ourselves if you will +allow us opportunity and deal as fairly with the female +infant as with the male. Where, even in this respect, +do we find your gratitude? We instruct your early +years. You keep instruction from our later ones.</p> + +<p>"French popular authors have satirized American +women freely. Let them remember that French literature +has done much to corrupt American women. +Unhappy Paris has corrupted the world. She is now +swept from the face of the earth."</p> + +<p>France was constantly in her thoughts.</p> + +<p>"The <i>morale</i> of the <i>Commune</i>, that which has commended +it to good people, has undoubtedly been a supposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +resistance to the return of absolutism, which the +Versailles Government was supposed covertly to represent.... +No matter what advantage of reason the +<i>Commune</i> may have had over the Versailles Government, +the <i>Commune</i> committed a civil crime in attempting +military enforcement of its political opinions. +Such was the crime which our South committed and +which we resisted as one defends one's own life. No +overt military act of ours gave them the advantage of +a <i>casus belli</i>. They differed from us and determined to +coerce us forcibly. In that weltering mass of ruin and +corruption which was Paris, what lessons lie of the +utter folly and futility of mutual murder! What hearts +of brothers estranged which time would have harmonized! +What hecatombs of weltering corpses poisoning +the earth which industry should make wholesome! +What women demonized by passion, forgetting all +their woman's lore and skill, the appointed givers of +life speeding death and reaping the bitter fruit themselves! +With this terrible picture before us, let no civilized +nation from henceforth and forever admit or recognize +the instrumentality of war as worthy of Christian +society. Let the fact of human brotherhood be taught +to the babe in his cradle, let it be taught to the despot +on his throne. Let it be the basis and foundation of +education and legislation, the bond of high and low, +of rich and poor...."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 27.</i> I am fifty-two years old this day and +must regard this year as in some sense the best of my +life. The great joy of the Peace Idea has unfolded itself +to me.... I have got at better methods of working in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +the practical matters at which I do work, and believe +more than ever in patience, labor, and sticking to one's +own idea of work. Study, book-work, and solitary +thinking and writing show us only one side of what we +study. Practical life and intercourse with others supply +the other side. If I may sit at work on this day +next year, I hope that my peace matter will have +assumed a practical and useful form, and that I may +have worked out my conception worthily.... I pray +that neither Louis Napoleon nor the Bourbons may +return to feed upon France, but that merciful measures, +surely of God's appointing, may heal her deadly +wounds and uplift her prostrate heart. She must learn +that the doctrine of self is irreligious. The <i>Commune</i> +surely knew this just as little as did Louis Napoleon. +I want to keep eyesight enough to read Greek and +German, and my teeth for clear speaking and good +digestion."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Paul says: 'Ye that are strong ought to bear the +infirmities of the weak,' but now we that are weak bear +the infirmities of the strong."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Peace meeting at the Club. Read in Greek first +part of the eighth chapter of Matthew; the account +given of the centurion seems very striking in the Greek. +The contrast of his Western mind with the Eastern +subtleties of Jew and Greek seems to have struck +Christ. He supposed Christ's power over unseen +things to be like his own control over things committed +to his authority. Then Christ began, perhaps, to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +that the other nations of the world would profit by his +work and doctrine before his Jewish brethren."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"My first presidency at the New England Woman's +Club.... I do not shine in presiding over a business +meeting and some others can do much better than I. +Still I think it best to fulfil all expected functions of +ordinary occasions, living and learning."</p> + +<p>"... Negro Christianity. It is something of a very +definite and touching character—all forgiving, all believing, +making a decided religious impression of its +own—the heart so ripe, the intellectual part so little +made out, like a fruit which might be all pulp and no +fibre."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"On Sunday we bring back the worn and dim currency +of our active life to be redeemed by the pure gold +of the Supreme Wisdom. I bring to church my coppers +and small pieces and take away a shining gold piece. +Self is the talent buried in the napkin no matter with +how much of culture and natural capacity. Till we get +out of self we are in the napkin. Hospitable entertainment +of other people's opinions, brotherly promotions +of their interests—these acts make our five talents +ten in use to others and in enjoyment and profit to +ourselves...."</p> + +<p>"Christ's teaching about marriage. Its tender and +sacred reciprocity. Adultery among the Jews was only +recognized as crime when committed by a woman. +The right of concubinage was too extensive to bring +condemnation for unchastity. The man might not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +steal another man's wife, but any woman's husband +might have intercourse with other women. Christ +showed how men did offend against this same law +which worked so absolutely and partially against +women. An unchaste thought in the breast of the man +infringed the high law of purity. This teaching of the +tender mutual obligations of married life was probably +new to many of his hearers.</p> + +<p>"The present style of woman has really been fashioned +by man, and is only <i>quasi</i> feminine.</p> + +<p>"Peace meeting at Mystic, Connecticut. Spoke +morning and afternoon, best in the morning. The natural +unfolding of reform. 'His purposes will ripen fast'—Watts's +verse. Providence does not plant so as to +gather all its crops in one day. First the flowers, then +the fruits, then the golden grain.</p> + +<p>"John Fiske's lecture, first in the course on the theory +of Evolution.... Did not think the lecture a very +profitable one, yet we must be willing that our opposites +should think and speak out their belief."</p> + + + +<p><br />In the spring of 1872 she went to England, hoping +to hold a Woman's Peace Congress in London. She +also hoped to found and foster "a Woman's Apostolate +of Peace." These hopes were not then to be fulfilled: +yet she always felt that this visit, with all its +labors and its disappointments, was well worth while, +and that much solid good came of it, to herself and +to others.</p> + +<p>We have seen her in London as a bride, enjoying to +the full its gayeties and hospitality, as bright a vision<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +as any that met her eyes, with a companion to whom all +doors opened eagerly. This was the picture of 1843; +that of 1872 is different, indeed.</p> + +<p>A woman of middle age, quiet in dress and manner, +with a serene and constant dignity; a face in which the +lines of thought and study were deepening year by +year; eyes now flashing with mirth, now tender with +sympathy, always bright with the "high resolve and +hardihood" for which, but a few years before, she had +been sighing: this was the woman who came to London +in 1872, alone and unaided; who, standing before the +Dark Tower of established Order and Precedent, might +say with Childe Roland,—</p> + +<p> +"Dauntless the slug horn to my lips I set,<br /> +And blew."<br /> +</p> + +<p>She spoke at the banquet of the Unitarian Association. +"The occasion was to me a memorable one." +She hired the Freemasons' Tavern and preached there +on five or six successive Sundays.</p> + +<p>"My procedure was very simple,—a prayer, the +reading of a hymn, and a discourse from a Scripture +text.... The attendance was very good throughout, +and I cherished the hope that I had sown some seed +which would bear fruit hereafter."</p> + +<p>She was asked to address meetings in various parts +of England, speaking in Birmingham, Manchester, +Leeds, Bristol, Carlisle, with good acceptance. In +Cambridge she talked with Professor J. R. Seeley, +whom she found most sympathetic. She was everywhere +welcomed by thoughtful people, old friends and +new, whether or no they sympathized with her quest.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>"<i>June 9.</i> My first preaching in London. Worked +pretty much all day at sermon, intending, not to read, +but to talk it—for me, a difficult procedure. At 4.30 +<span class="smcap">P.M.</span> left off, but brain so tired that nothing in it. Subject, +the kingdom of heaven.... Got a bad cup of tea—dressed +(in my well-worn black silk) and went to +the Drawing-Room at Freemasons' Tavern. God +knows how I felt. 'Cast down but not forsaken.'... +I got through better than I feared I might. Felt the +method to be the right one, speaking face to face and +heart to heart."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 10.</i> Small beer going out of fashion leaves +women one occupation the less. Fools are still an institution; +and will remain such."<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a></p> + +<p>"<i>June 16</i>.... A good attendance in spite of the +heat.... Agonized over my failure to come up to what +I had designed to do in the discourse."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 18</i>.... Saw the last of my dear friend E. +Twisleton, who took me to the National Gallery, where +we saw many precious gems of art.... At parting, he +said: 'The good Father above does not often give so +great a pleasure as I have had in these meetings with +you.' Let me enshrine this charming and sincere word +in my most precious recollection, from the man of +sixty-three to the woman of fifty-three."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 27.</i> Left Leeds at 7 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, rising at 4.30.... +To Miss [Frances Power] Cobbe's, where met Lady +Lyall, Miss Clough, Mrs. Gorton, Jacob Bright, <i>et al.</i> +Then to dinner with the dear Seeleys. An unceremonious +and delightful meal. Heart of calf. Then to John<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +Ridley's.... Home late, almost dead—to bed, having +been on foot twenty hours."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 4</i>.... Saw a sight of misery, a little crumb of +a boy, barefoot, tugging after a hand-organ man, also +very shabby. Gave the little one a ha'penny, all the +copper I had. But in the heartache he gave me, I +resolved, God helping me, that my luxury shall henceforth +be to minister to human misery, and to redeem +much time and money spent on my own fancies, as I +may...."</p> + +<p>She had been asked to attend two important meetings +as American delegate: a peace congress in Paris, +and a great prison reform meeting in London.</p> + +<p>The French meeting came first. She crossed the +Channel, reaching Paris in time to attend the principal +<i>séance</i> of the congress. She presented her credentials, +asked leave to speak, and was told "with some embarrassment" +that she might speak to the officers of the +society, when the public meeting should be adjourned! +She makes no comment on this proceeding, but says, +"I accordingly met a dozen or more of these gentlemen +in a side room, where I simply spoke of my endeavors +to enlist the sympathies and efforts of women in behalf +of the world's peace."</p> + +<p>Returning to London, she had "the privilege of attending +as a delegate one of the great Prison Reform +meetings of our day."</p> + +<p>In 1843, Julia the bride would not have considered +it a privilege to attend a meeting for prison reform. +She would have shrugged her shoulders, would perhaps +have pouted because the Chevalier cared more for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +these things than for the opera, with Grisi, Mario, and +Lablache: she might even have written some funny +verses about the windmill-tilting of her Don Quixote. +Now, she stood in the place that failing health forbade +him to fill, with a depth of interest, an earnestness of +purpose, equal to his own. She, too, now heard the +sorrowful sighing of the prisoners.</p> + +<p>At one of the meetings of this congress, a jailer of the +old school spoke in defence of the system of flogging +refractory prisoners, and described in brutal fashion a +brutal incident. Her blood was on fire: she asked leave +to speak.</p> + +<p>"It is related," she said, "of the famous Beau +Brummel that a gentleman who called upon him one +morning met a valet carrying away a tray of neck-cloths, +more or less disordered. 'What are these?' +asked the visitor; and the servant replied, 'These are +our failures!' When I see the dark coach which in our +country carries the criminal to his place of detention, +I say, 'Society, here are your failures.'"</p> + +<p>Her words were loudly applauded, and the punishment +was voted down.</p> + +<p>The Journal gives her further speech on this occasion: +"Spoke of justice to women. They had talked of +fallen women. I prayed them to leave that hopeless +phrase. Every fallen woman represents a man as +guilty as herself, who escapes human detection, but +whose soul lies open before God. Speak of vicious, dissolute +women, but don't speak of fallen women unless +you recognize the fall of man, the old doctrine."</p> + +<p>Two days before this she had preached her last sermon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> +in London. The Journal says: "All Sunday at +work upon my sermon, the last in London. 'Neither +height nor depth, nor any other creature.' The sermon +of high and low, and the great unity beyond all dimensions. +A good and to me a most happy delivery of +opinions and faith which I deeply hold.... So ended +my happy ministration in London, begun in fear and +anxiety, ended in certainty and renewed faith, which +God continue to me."</p> + +<p>August found her back at Oak Glen, exhausted in +body and mind. She is almost too tired to write in the +Journal, and such entries as there are only accentuate +her fatigue.</p> + +<p>"I am here at my table with books and papers, but +feel very languid. My arms feel as if there were no +marrow in their bones. I suppose this is reaction after +so much work, but unless I can get up strength somehow +I shall not accomplish anything. Weakness in all +my limbs. Have had my Greek lesson and begun to +read the Maccabees and the Apocrypha. I shall probably +come up after a few days, but feel at present +utterly incapable of exertion. I must help Maud—have +helped her with music to-day...."</p> + +<p>"Walked about with dear Chev, whose talk is +always instructive. Every break in our long-continued +habits shows us something to amend in our past lives. +What do I see in mine after this long break? That I +must endeavor to have more real life and more religion. +The passive and contemplative following of thought, +my own or other people's, must not de-energize my +sympathies and my will. I must daily consult the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +divine will and standard which can help us to mould +our lives aright without running from one extreme to +another. My heart's wish would now be to devote +myself to some sort of religious ministration. God can +open a way for this in which the spirit of my desire may +receive the form of his will. I must lecture this winter +to earn some money and spread, I hope, some good +doctrine...."</p> + + + +<p><br />Such was the beginning of her work for peace, which +was to end only with her life. Disappointed in her hope +of a world congress, she turned the current of her effort +in a new direction. She would have a festival, a day +which should be called Mothers' Day, and be devoted +to the advocacy of peace doctrines. She chose +the second day of June; for many years she and her +friends and followers kept this day religiously, with +sweet and tender observances which were unspeakably +dear to her.</p> + +<p>In 1876 there was a great peace meeting in Philadelphia. +The occasion is thus described by the Reverend +Ada C. Bowles: "There were delegates from +France, Italy, and Germany, each with a burning desire +to be heard, and all worth hearing, but none able to +speak English. The audience looked to the anxious +face of the President with sympathy; then a voice was +heard, 'Call for Mrs. Howe.' Those present will never +forget how her presence changed the meeting from a +threatened failure to a noble success. The German, +Frenchman, and Italian stood in turn by her side. At +the proper moment she lifted a finger, and then gave in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> +her perfect English each speech in full to the delight +of the delegates and the admiration of all."</p> + +<p>The last celebration of her Mothers' Day was held +in Riverton, New Jersey, on June 1, 1912, by the +Pennsylvania Peace Society, in conjunction with the +Universal Peace Union. On the printed invitation to +this festival we read</p> + +<p> +"Aid it, paper, aid it, pen,<br /> +Aid it, hearts of earnest men.<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Julia Ward Howe, 1874."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>And further on, "Thirty-nine years ago Julia Ward +Howe instituted this festival for peace,—a time for the +women and children to come together; to meet in +the country, invite the public, and recite, speak, sing +and pray for 'those things that make for peace.'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>SANTO DOMINGO</h3> + +<h4>1872-1874; <i>aet.</i> 53-56</h4> + +<p>A PARABLE</p> + +<p> +"I sent a child of mine to-day;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I hope you used him well."</span><br /> +"Now, Lord, no visitor of yours<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has waited at my bell.</span><br /> +<br /> +"The children of the Millionnaire<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Run up and down our street;</span><br /> +I glory in their well-combed hair,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their dress and trim complete.</span><br /> +<br /> +"But yours would in a chariot come<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With thoroughbreds so gay;</span><br /> +And little merry maids and men<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To cheer him on his way."</span><br /> +<br /> +"Stood, then, no child before your door?"<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Lord, persistent, said.</span><br /> +"Only a ragged beggar-boy,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With rough and frowzy head.</span><br /> +<br /> +"The dirt was crusted on his skin,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His muddy feet were bare;</span><br /> +The cook gave victuals from within;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I cursed his coming there."</span><br /> +<br /> +What sorrow, silvered with a smile,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Slides o'er the face divine?</span><br /> +What tenderest whisper thrills rebuke?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"The beggar-boy was mine!"</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><br />We must go back a little to tell another story.</p> + +<p>In the winter of 1870-71 the Republic of Santo +Domingo sent through its president an urgent request +for annexation to the United States. President Grant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> +appointed a commission to visit this island republic, +to inquire into its conditions and report upon the question. +Of this commission Dr. Howe was one, the others +being Messrs. Benjamin Wade and Andrew D. White.</p> + +<p>The commissioners sailed on the government steamer +Tennessee. At parting the Doctor said, "Remember +that you cannot hear from us under a month; so do not +be frightened at our long silence."</p> + +<p>A week later came reports of a severe storm in the +Southern seas. A large steamer had been seen struggling +with wind and wave, apparently at their mercy. +Some newspaper thought it might be the Tennessee. +All the newspapers took up the cry: it probably <i>was</i> +the Tennessee; most likely she had foundered and gone +down with all on board.</p> + +<p>Mindful of the Doctor's warning, our mother tried +to disregard these voices of terror. She went quietly +about her work as usual, but none the less the days of +suspense that followed were "dark indeed and hard to +live through."<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a></p> + +<p>We remember these days well, the resolute cheerfulness, +the avoidance of outward sign of anxiety, the +sudden lifting of the cloud when the good news came +of the steamer's safe arrival.</p> + +<p>The prayer of Santo Domingo was not to be answered, +spite of the favorable report of the commission: +but the Doctor had been so delighted with the island +that when, a year later, he was asked to visit it in +the interests of the Samana Bay Company, he gladly +accepted the commission.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span>This time our mother went with him, together with +Maud and a party of friends. She had been loth to go, +for she had already planned her peace crusade in England, +but finding how much he desired it, she compromised +on part of the time.</p> + +<p>They sailed from New York early in February, 1872, +in the steamer Tybee. The voyage was rough and +stormy. The companion daughter of the time remembers +how the wretched little Tybee pitched and heaved; +even more vividly she recalls the way in which our +mother from the first made society out of the strangely +assorted company on board. She was the magnet, and +drew them all to her: the group of conventional ladies +who had never before been at sea, the knot of naval +officers going to join their ship,—among them George +W. De Long, the hero of the ill-fated Jeannette expedition; +a colonel, and a judge, the former interested in +the Samana Bay Company. She made out of this odd +company and the gruff old captain a sort of court +which she ruled in a curious way. She did not seem +to compel their admiration so much as to compel +each to give his best.</p> + +<p>The Tybee cast anchor in the harbor of Puerto +Plata, and the voyagers saw Mont Isabel towering +above them, its foot in the clear beryl water where the +palms grew down to the very edge of the yellow sea +sand, its head wrapped in the clouds. The Doctor came +to the stateroom, crying, "Come up and see the great +glory!"</p> + +<p>Our mother's delight can be imagined when they +sailed into the harbor of Santo Domingo and landed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> +near an immense and immemorial tree, where, they +were told, Columbus had landed.</p> + +<p>The party lodged in a fine old Spanish <i>palacio</i>, built +round a courtyard. It had been originally a convent. +The nuns were gone, and their place was now taken +by the gay company of American ladies, who possibly +gave the sleepy little city more new ideas than it had +ever received in so short a space of time. President +Baez put the palace at the Doctor's disposal; he was +an important person to the President and to the +Dominicans, for at that time the hope of annexation +had not died out. All the party were treated with +extraordinary courtesy. Not only were they given the +presidential palace to live in, but a guard of honor was +kept in the courtyard. Their horses were lodged, Spanish +fashion, on the ground floor. The trampling, the +neighing, and the fleas made them rather uncomfortable +neighbors. Our mother soon found out that the +only way she could see the country, or enjoy its life, +was by riding. At first she was a little nervous, but +she soon regained her courage and her seat. This was +her first riding since the days of Cora, the wicked little +mare, when she read her Bible and said her prayers +before every ride. She thus describes it:—</p> + +<p>"In Santo Domingo, nothing is more charming than +the afternoon ride. It is, of course, the great event +of the neighborhood. Our cavalcade usually numbers +four or five ladies. Sometimes we cross the river in a +flat-bottomed boat, which is pulled over by a rope +stretched and made fast at either end. We then visit +the little village of Pajarita, and trot along under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> +the shade of heavy mango trees. Or we explore the +country on this side the river. The great thing to +guard against is the danger of rain. This we encountered +one afternoon in some severity. Suddenly one of +the party cried '<i>Llava!</i>' and down came the waters. +We were somewhat heated with our ride, and the penetrating +rain fell chill upon us. A large tree gave us +shelter for a few moments, but we were soon forced to +seek more effectual protection. This we found, after +some delay, in a <i>boio</i>, or hut, into which horses and +riders were dragged pell-mell. The night was closing +in, the Chief at home, and presumably anxious, the +rain unabating. Which of the tropical spasms would +end our far-spent life? Would it be lockjaw, a common +result of severe chill in these regions? Would it be +a burning, delirious fever with a touch of yellow; or +should we get off with croup and diphtheria?</p> + +<p>"The rain presently stopped, and we returned to +the saddle, and then, by easy stages, to the city. On +reaching home, we were advised to bathe the chilled +surfaces with rum, not the wicked New England article, +but the milder product of the country. Of all the +evil consequences spoken of as sure to follow such an +exposure, fever, lockjaw, and sore throat, we have so +far not seen the earliest symptom."</p> + +<p>It was Carnival. All the cabinet officers and their +wives devoted themselves to the entertainment of the +party. The Minister of War, Señor Curiel, a little +twinkling fiery man, devoted himself especially to our +mother, and was her right hand in the many expeditions +she arranged. The Secretary of State, Señor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> +Gautier, a grave person with more culture than most +of the Dominicans, was the Doctor's chosen friend. +To return the many attentions showered upon them, +a ball in the old convent was arranged. The Doctor +once said to her, "If you were on a desert island with +nobody there but one old darkey, you would give a +party." (But it was from Cuba that he wrote, "Julia +knows three words of Spanish, and is constantly +engaged in active conversation.")</p> + +<p>To find herself at Carnival, the leader of a gay party, +living in a spacious palace, supported by the guns and +the officers of an American warship (the Narragansett, +with De Long and other officers on board), was an +opportunity not to be missed. She thus describes the +entertainment:—</p> + +<p>"<i>Hans Breitmann gife a barty.</i></p> + +<p>"So did we. To see Santo Domingo was little, without +seeing the Dominicans also. Some diplomatic overtures +were made. Would the first families come and +pass an evening with us at the <i>Palacio</i>? Yes, they +would. Which <i>were</i> the first families? That would +have been for us a point very difficult to determine. +The family of the President and those of the heads of +departments would certainly stand in that prominence. +For the necessary beaux we were referred to a society +recently established here, calling itself '<i>La Juventad</i>,' +'the young people.' This body of philanthropists, being +appealed to, consented to undertake the management +of our party. The occasion was announced as a +<i>bailecita</i>, 'little ball.' We asked them to provide such +refreshments as are customary in this place. Thirty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> +dollars' worth of sweet cake and a bottled ocean of +weak beer formed the principal items of the bill, as +brought to us. The friends came at 5 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>, to decorate +the room with flowers, also to arrange two tables, on +one of which <i>las dulces</i> were arrayed, while the other +was made to display a suspicious-looking group of +glasses. A band, we were told, would be indispensable. +We demurred at this, having intended to musicate +upon our own grand piano. Hearing, however, that +the band could be had for the sum of twelve dollars, +we gave in on this point.</p> + +<p>"One long room runs the whole length of one side of +the palace, and serves us at once for dining and reception +room. A long corridor encounters this room at +right angles, entirely open to the weather, on one side. +These two spaces constitute all our resources for receiving +company. We lit them with Downer's best [kerosene] +and ranged rows of rocking-chairs, opposite to +each other, after the manner of this country, and also +of Cuba.</p> + +<p>"The company began to arrive at 8 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> The young +ladies were mostly attired in colored tarlatans, prettily +trimmed with lace and flowers. Some of them were not +over fourteen years of age. All were quite youthful +in their appearance, and unaffected in their manners. +The young men, mostly employed in the various shops +of the city, were well-dressed and polite. The band +was somewhat barbaric in its aspect. A violin, a 'cello, +a tambourine, and a clarinet. The clarinet-player was +of uncommon size, with wild, dark eyes, which seemed +to dilate as he played....</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span>"The dancing continued with little interruption +until nearly 2 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> We were told that it is often continued +till daylight. From time to time an attack was +made upon the two tables. But the enjoyment of the +good things provided was quite moderate compared +with the cramming of a first-class party in Boston or +New York. The guests were of many shades, as to +color, although the greater number would have passed +for white people, anywhere. Some of the handsomest +among them were very dark. One young man reminded +us of Edwin Booth in "Othello."... None of these people +look like the mulattoes in the North. The features +and the fibre appear finer, and the jet-black hair often +suggests an admixture of Indian blood. The difference +of social position shows itself in the manners of these +people. The cruel colorphobia has never proscribed +them. They have no artificial sense of inferiority, but +take themselves as God made them, and think that +if He is content with their complexions, mankind at +large may be so.</p> + +<p>"We were much pleased with our party, and with +the simple and unaffected gayety of our guests. It was +really a party in the open air, one whole side of our +ballroom being unenclosed, save by the infrequent colonnade. +We looked from the dancers to the stars, and +back again to the dancers. It was all fairylike and +dreamlike. The favorite '<i>dansa</i>' much resembles, not +a ballet, but a stage dance, such as is introduced in the +course of the drama. The beer flowed, and the couples +flew. One innovation we introduced, a Virginia reel, +which the clever clarinet-player caught and accompanied.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> +The figures much amazed the natives. The +<i>dénouement</i> of Mr. Leland's classic ballad was wanting. +No</p> + +<p> +"'Gompany fited mit daple lecks<br /> +Till de coonshtable made em shtop';<br /> +</p> + +<p>yet we may quote further from that high source:—</p> + +<p> +"'Hans Breitmann gife a barty,<br /> +Where ish that barty now?<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> +<br /> +All goned afay mit der lager pier,<br /> +Afay in der Ewigkeit!'"<br /> +</p> + +<p>The Journal gives pleasant glimpses of the Santo +Domingo days.</p> + +<p>"M. Marne, a Frenchman ninety-seven years old, +paid us a visit. Had been secretary of Joseph Buonaparte +in Madrid—praised him much. Talked very +copiously and not ill. Enjoys full mental and physical +activity. Lives at a small village in sight of our windows, +but on the other side of the river. Talked much +of the Roi Cristophe."</p> + +<p>The mention of this old gentleman recalls her visit +to a Dominican <i>padre</i>, himself in extreme age, who told +her that he had known a negress who lived to the age +of one hundred and forty-three; he had confessed and +buried her. "She had her teeth and her hair still."</p> + +<p>"Not to market to-day, but breakfast early—then +all hands to the cathedral to see the high mass performed—to-day +in honor of the independence of the +island....</p> + +<p>"Baez' face, cunning, pretty strong, <i>enjoué</i>, as if he +must be, or seem, a <i>bon enfant</i>.... The noise at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> +elevation of the Host a perfect Babel. Music, 'Ernani,' +'Fra Diavolo,' with some similar things. A single +trumpet shrieked at some high moments. The bells +rang like a thousand tin pans. Orchestra and chorus +not together and both out of tune. The ceremony +otherwise perhaps as well as usual. A priest made a +brief address in Spanish, praising the day and complimenting +the President...."</p> + +<p>"Studied Baur, Aristophanes, and '<i>Etudes sur la +Bible</i>.' Music lesson to Maud. O'Sullivan to dine.... +Baez sent word that he would visit us between 5 and 6 +<span class="smcap">P.M.</span> We accordingly put things in the best order possible +under the circumstances. <i>Ung puo de tualetta</i> for +the ladies seemed proper. At dinner received Baez' +card with a great dish of fine sapotes. Baez arrived. +He speaks French quite tolerably, is affable, and has +an intelligent face; in fact looks like a person of marked +talent. We talked of things in the United States. He +has made fourteen voyages to Europe.... I sang '<i>Una +Barchetta</i>' for him. He came with one servant, who +stayed outside—no ceremony and no escort...."</p> + +<p>After the beauty of the place—indeed possibly before +it—she valued the opportunity that came to her +of preaching. On the voyage to Santo Domingo she +had learned of a shepherdless flock of colored Protestants, +their minister dead, their "elder" disabled by +lameness. Here was an opportunity not to be lost. +She engaged to hold Sunday evening services in their +church, a small wooden building with a mud floor and +a mahogany pulpit. The "Reminiscences" describe +these services; the tattered hymn-books whose leaves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> +were turned mechanically while the congregation (few +of whom could read) sang with a will the hymns they +knew by heart; the humble, devout people with their +attentive faces.</p> + +<p>When Holy Week came, the congregation begged her +to hold special services. They wished their young people +to understand that these sacred days meant as +much to them as to the surrounding Catholics. Accordingly +she and her companion "dressed the little +church with flowers. It looked charmingly. Flowers +all along the railing [here follows in the Journal a pen-and-ink +sketch], flowers in the pulpit over my head. +Church was crowded. Many people outside and at the +windows."</p> + +<p>She always remembered with pleasure one feature +of her Easter sermon, her attempt to describe Dante's +vision of a great cross in the heavens, formed of star +clusters, each cluster bearing the name of Christ. "The +thought," she says, "that the mighty poet of the fourteenth +century should have something to impart to +these illiterate negroes was very dear to me."</p> + +<p>One of the party has an undying impression of this +Easter service: the shabby little chapel crowded with +dark faces, and the preacher, standing touched by a +ray of sunlight, speaking to that congregation of simple +black people. In her notes she speaks of these +services.</p> + +<p>"A pastoral charge bringing me near to the hearts +and sympathies of the people. I have preached five +times in the little church, including Good Friday and +Easter Monday. This service, which has not been without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> +its difficulties, is so much better to me in remembrance +than anything else I have done here that I must +make a little break and pause before I speak of other +things.</p> + +<p>"In this pause I remember my prayer at Puerto +Plata, that I and mine might come to this new region +with a reverent and teachable spirit. That prayer was +an earnest one to me. I hope it has, as all prayers +should, accomplished its own fulfilment. I have been +here among dear people. I find all the human varieties +in this society, not digested and harmonized by noble +culture, but existing and asking for the centralizing +and discriminating agencies which in civilization sort +out the different tastes, characters, and capacities, and +assign to each its task, giving devotion its wings and +crime its treadmill. This little population in a great +country, a country in which Nature allows no one to +starve, has lived and so shown its right to live and maintain +itself. It has accomplished its political division +from a state antipathetic to it, having its dark face +turned fixedly towards barbarism [Hayti].</p> + +<p>"I stood in a little church in the city and island of +Santo Domingo, to preach the glad tidings of the gospel +of Peace. It was a humble little temple, with a mud +floor, and plastered walls, and a roof which scarcely +kept out the rain, but it was a place full of comfort to +me and to others. The seats and spaces were all filled, +for it had no aisles. The small windows and doors were +cushioned, so to speak, with human countenances, +wearing an expression of curiosity or attention. The +way to the church was lined on both sides with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> +simple people, who held their service at night because +the poverty of their attire made them ashamed to hold +it by day. And this crowd came together, Sunday after +Sunday, because a woman from a distant country stood +in that little church to tell them what a woman can tell +about the kingdom of heaven."</p> + +<p>Loth as she had been to go to Santo Domingo, she +was far more loth to leave it; but the time appointed +for her peace crusade in London was at hand, and she +could tarry no longer. On April 5 she writes:—</p> + +<p>"Ah! my time is nearly out. Dear Santo Domingo, +how I do love you, with your childish life, and your +ancestral streets—a grandam and a babe! To-day I +read my last in Baur and Greek for some time, probably, +as must pack to-morrow. As at present advised, +God grant that we may come here again."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 6.</i> Here to-day and gone to-morrow, literally. +Mostly packed—have left out my books for a +last sweet morsel.... Did not get that sweet morsel. +Was busy all day—farewell calls from friends, little +talks, and the fear of sitting down and forgetting my +preparations in my books. In the evening the Gautiers +came and I played for them to dance. So, one last +little gayety in common."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sunday, April 7.</i> Got up at 4 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> Dressed and got +off pretty easily.... The parting from Maud was very +hard. Oh! when the line was drawn in, and my darling +and I were fairly sundered, my old heart gave way, and +I cried bitterly....</p> + +<p>"Henry Blackwell is a dear, comforting man, most +kind and companionable. A woman on board with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> +wretched baby of six months, he in a muslin gown and +nothing else, crying with cold. I got out a cotton flannel +dressing-sack, and wrapped him up in it and tended +him a good deal....</p> + +<p>"May the purpose for which I undertake this painful +and solitary journey be ever strong enough in my +thoughts to render every step of it pure, blameless and +worthy. Great God, do not let me desert thee! For +that is the trouble. Thou dost not desert us. I dread +unspeakably these dark days of suffering and confusion. +To go is like being hanged...."</p> + +<p>"Captain said something about my preaching on +Sunday, so I have been laying out some points for a +sermon.... But it is not very likely that the Captain +will really ask me to hold service.</p> + +<p>"Talk with purser about Homer. He has a vivacious +mind, and might easily learn Greek, or anything else he +would have a mind to."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sunday.</i> It turned out that the Captain and passengers +did wish me to hold a little service to-day, so +at 10.30 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> I met them in the dining-saloon. I had a +Bible, from which I read the 116th Psalm—a prayer +followed—then the missionary hymn, 'From Greenland's +icy mountains'—then my little sermon, of +which I have the headings. I am so very glad to have +been able and enabled to do this.</p> + +<p>"Began to teach the purser to read from notes with +a leaf of music out of some periodical. Copied Baur a +little—talked and heard much talk."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 17....</i> Expect to get in to-morrow, not very +late, unless another contrary gale. Frigate birds and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> +petrels yesterday—to-day, whales, blackfish, and an +immense number of porpoises. Revelation cannot go +beyond human consciousness.</p> + +<p>"The Western mind has taken Christ's metaphorical +illustrations literally, and his literal moral precepts +metaphorically."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 18....</i> Very thankful to have got through +so well so far."</p> + + +<p><br />As at the beginning of this chapter we took a step +backward, so we must now take one forward and speak +briefly of the second visit to Santo Domingo in 1874.</p> + +<p>The Doctor's health was failing; he had suffered +from the winter's cold, and longed for the warm sunshine +of the beloved island. Would she go with him? +he asked. She should preach to her colored folks as +much as she liked.</p> + +<p>They sailed together in the Tybee in March. After +a brief visit to the capital (where Revolution had been +before them, expelling the friendly Baez, and putting +in his place a man opposed to the Samana Bay Company), +they took up their quarters at Samana, in a +little hillside cottage about a mile from the town.</p> + +<p>Our mother writes in her Journal:—</p> + +<p>"<i>March 20.</i> In Santo Domingo as glad as a child.... +Went to Garcia's and foolishly bargained for the gold +necklace and emerald ring I fancied the last time I was +here. The necklace is for Maud."</p> + +<p>The love of jewelry was one of the "little passions" +of her whole life. Speaking once of this as her "besetting +sin," she said: "It is rather respectable to have a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> +besetting sin, as it shows one must have had an ancestor +from whom it was inherited!" She enjoyed a jewel +as she did a flower or a song: she loved to deck her dear +ones and herself with trinkets; a jeweller's window was +a thing of delight to her, not to be passed without the +tribute of a pause and a glance at its treasures. Yet a +purchase of this kind seldom failed to bring its retributive +pang the day after.</p> + +<p>"Was sorry to have made so foolish a use of the +money. Resolve never to do so again, unless some new +light should make it seem right. God will not have my +mind occupied with such nonsense.... Have written +my sermon for to-morrow evening."</p> + +<p>They spent two months in Samana in almost absolute +retirement. The Doctor read "Don Quixote" in +Spanish, she Aristotle in Greek and Baur in German. +The former "was early and late in the saddle, and +dashed up and down the steep hillsides of Samana with +all his old fearlessness." The latter followed as she +might, "in perils and dangers, in terrors often."</p> + +<p>"I had never been a bold rider, and I must confess +that I suffered agonies of fear in following him on these +expeditions. If I lagged behind, he would cry, 'Come +on! it's as bad as going to a funeral to ride with you.' +And so, I suppose, it was. I remember one day when +a great palm branch had fallen across our path. I +thought that my horse would certainly slip on it, sending +me to the depths below. That very day, while Dr. +Howe took his siesta, I went to the place where this +impediment lay, and with a great effort threw it over +the steep mountain-side. The whole neighborhood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> +of Samana is very mountainous, and I sometimes +found it impossible to obey the word of command. One +day my husband spurred his horse and made a gallant +dash at a very steep ascent, ordering me to follow him. +I tried my best, but only got far enough to find myself +awkwardly at a standstill, and unable to go either backward +or forward. The Doctor was obliged to dismount +and to lead my horse down to the level ground. This, +he assured me, was a severe mortification for him."<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a></p> + +<p>In spite of the permission given, she spoke only a +few times in Samana. She tells of an open-air service +in which she took part. She arrived late, and found a +zealous elder holding forth and "reading" from a Bible +held upside down. At sight of her he said, "And now +dat de lady hab come, I will obdunk from de place!"</p> + +<p>One day she spoke to the pupils of a little school +kept by an English carpenter, who studied Greek in +order to understand the New Testament, yet allowed +his pupils to use the small <i>i</i> for the personal pronoun. +The schoolhouse was perched on a hill so steep that she +was thankful to mount astride on a huge white steer +furnished with a straw saddle, and be led up by a +friendly neighbor.</p> + +<p>In these days the ill-fated Samana Bay Company, of +which the Doctor and many others had had high hopes, +came to an end, and the Dominican Government insisted +that its flag should be officially withdrawn. Our +mother describes the incident:—</p> + +<p>"To town early to be present at the taking down of +the Samana Company's flag by the commission sent on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> +board the Dominican war schooner. I went in the boat +and found Chev in the custom-house with the commission +seated around. A good many of our people present. +Chev read his protest, which was strong and +simple.... We then went out of the building; the +<i>employés</i> of our Company marched up in their best +clothes, their hats stuck full of roses, and stood in order +on either side the flagstaff. The man ordered by the +commission lowered the flag. Just before, Chev got +our people to stand in a circle around him, made a +lovely little address. The old Crusader never appeared +nobler or better than on this occasion, when his beautiful +chivalry stood in the greatest contrast to the barbarism +and ingratitude which dictated this act. My +mind was full of cursing rather than blessing. Yet finding +myself presently alone with the superseded flag I +laid my hand upon it and prayed that if I had power to +bless anything, my prayers might bless the good effort +which has been made here."</p> + +<p>On April 2 she adds: "The blacks here say that the +taking down of our flag was like the crucifixion of our +Lord. We are assured that they would have offered +forcible resistance, if we had authorized their so doing."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 9.</i> The last day of our last week in Samana.... +God knows when I shall have so much restful leisure +again. My rides on horseback, too, are ended for +the present, though I may mount once more to-day or +to-morrow. All these pleasures have been mixed with +pains—my fear on horseback ... but far more than +all, my anxiety about the dearest ones at home. The +affairs of the Company, too, have given me many sad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +thoughts, but in spite of all this the time has been a +blessed one. I have improved in mind and body, if not +in estate—have had sweet leisure for thought and +study, opportunity to preach the gospel (three times), +and most invigorating air and exercise. Over the door +of the little parlor here hangs a motto: 'God bless our +Home.' I think, indeed, He has blessed this little home, +though, at first, when I looked at the motto, I always +thought of my own home."</p> + +<p>The next day they saw the "last of beautiful Samana +for the present," and ten days later found them in New +York. Her final word on this brief and lovely episode +is given in the Journal for May 24: "My heart sinks +whenever Chev says he will never go to Samana again. +'There are my young barbarians all at play.'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE LAST OF GREEN PEACE</h3> + +<h4>1872-1876; <i>aet.</i> 53-57</h4> + +<p> +He who launched thee a bolt of fire<br /> +Strong in courage and in desire<br /> +Takes thee again a weapon true<br /> +In heaven's armory ever new.<br /> +<br /> +Still shall the masterful fight go on,<br /> +Still shall the battle of Right be won<br /> +And He who fixed thee in upper air<br /> +Shall carry thy prowess otherwhere.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />As our father's health failed more and more, his +heart turned to the home he had made. He longed for +Green Peace; and—the lease falling in about this +time—in the spring of 1872 he and our mother and +Maud moved thither, and took up their quarters in the +"new part," while Laura and her husband came to +occupy the old. Here the first grandchild (Alice Maud +Richards) was born; here and at Oak Glen the next +four years were mainly passed.</p> + +<p>The Doctor's ardent spirit longed for new fields of +work, new causes to help; the earthly part could not +follow. How he struggled, toiling, suffering, fighting +the good fight to his last breath, has been told elsewhere:<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> +suffice it to say that these years were grave +ones for the household, spite of new joys that dawned +for all.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span>The grandchildren opened a new world for both our +parents: a world which one was to enjoy for a space all +too brief, the other through long years, in which she +was to be to the youngest generation a lamp of wisdom, +a flame of warmth and tenderness, a fountain +of joy.</p> + +<p>Among the memory pictures of this time is one of her +sitting at her desk, laboring at her endless correspondence; +beside her, on the floor, the baby of the period, +equally absorbed in the contents of the waste-paper +basket.</p> + +<p>Or we see the tall figure of the Doctor, stooping in +the doorway between the two houses, a crowing child +on his shoulders, old face and young alight with merriment. +These were Richards grandbabes; the Hall +children were the summer delight of the grandparents, +as they and their mother usually spent the summer at +Oak Glen.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>Friday, September 13.</i> Before I open even my New +Testament to-day, I must make record of the joyful +birth of Flossy's little son [Samuel Prescott Hall].... +God bless this dear little child! May he bring peace +and love....</p> + +<p>"During the confinement I could not think of anything +divine or spiritual. It was Nature's grim, mechanical, +traditional task. But now that it is over, +my heart remembers that Life is not precious without +God, and the living soul just given stands related to +the quickening spirit."</p> + +<p>"...I can get little time for study, as I must help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> +nurse dear Flossy. My mind is strangely divided between +my dear work and my dear child and grandchild. +I must try to keep along with both, but on no account +to neglect the precious grandchild."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 1.</i> O year! thou art running low. The last +trimester."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 2.</i> This day, thirty-two years ago, my dearest +brother Henry died in my arms, the most agonizing +experience. Never again did Death so enter into my +heart, until my lovely son of three years departed many +years later, leaving a blank as sad and bitter. Henry +was a rare and delicate person.... His life was a most +valuable one to us for help and counsel, as well as +for affection. Perhaps no one to-day thinks about his +death except me, his junior by two years, wearing now +into the decline of life. Dear brother, I look forward +to the reunion with you, but wish my record were +whiter and brighter."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 5.</i> Boston. Came up for directors' meeting +of New England Woman's Club. Went afterward to +Mrs. Cheney's lecture on English literature.... A +suggestive and interesting essay, which I was glad to +hear and have others hear. It gave me a little pain, +that, though she pleasantly alluded to me as one who +has laid aside the laurel for the olive branch, she said +nothing whatever about my writings, which deserve +to be spoken of in characterizing the current literature +of the day; but she perhaps does not read or like my +works, and besides, people think of me nowadays more +as an active woman's woman than as a literary character, +as the phrase is. All life is full of trial, and when I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> +hear literary performance praised, and remember my +own love for it, and for praise, I think a little how much +of all this I have sacrificed in these later years for a service +that has made me enemies as well as friends. I felt +called upon to do this, and I still think that if I made a +mistake, it was one of those honest mistakes it is best +to make."</p> + + +<p><br />She was giving Maud music lessons this autumn, +reading Plutarch with her, taking her to parties and +giving parties for her. Later, we find her holding mission +services at Vineyard Haven; addressing the Saturday +Morning Club ("Subject—<i>Object</i>: I smile at +this antithesis"); delivering a lecture at Albany—with +the lecture left behind.</p> + +<p>"Got to work at once making abstracts from memory.... +Spoke more than an hour.... Got my money—would +rather have paid it than have had such an +experience. Felt as if my inner Guide had misled and +deserted me. But some good to some one may come +of what I said and tried to say."</p> + +<p>She returned from this trip very weary, only to find +"my lecture advertised, not one line of it written—subject, +'Men's Women and Women's Women.' Set +to work at once, almost overpowered by the task, and +the shortness of the time."</p> + +<p>The lecture was finished in the morning, delivered +in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Warm congratulations at the close.... Such a +sense of relief!"</p> + +<p>On December 19 she notes the departure of "dear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> +Flossy and her dearest little Boy.... House very desolate +without them. This boy is especially dear to +Doctor Howe and myself."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 28.</i> Maria Mitchell's Club lecture to-day +was beautiful exceedingly. I might have envied her +the steady grasp and unbroken advance of scientific +study, did I not feel sure that God gives to each his +own work. Mine, such as it is, would be helped and +beautified by the knowledge which she imparts so +easily, but perhaps all of her that I shall remember +and try to follow is her spirit. Her silver hair seems +lustrous with spiritual brightness, as do her dark eyes. +Her movements are full of womanly grace, not ballroom +grace."</p> + +<p><br />From now on the movement is <i>sempre crescendo</i>. +Work for peace, work for clubs; lecturing, preaching, +tending the Doctor in his days of illness; taking the +youngest daughter to balls and parties; founding a +club for her, too. She felt that the young girls of +Maud's age needed the onward impulse as much as +their elders; accordingly, in November, 1871, she called +together a meeting of young women, and with their +aid and good-will formed the Saturday Morning Club +of Boston. The energy with which this organization +sprang into being showed that the time was ripe for it. +That energy, handed on through two generations, is no +less lively to-day; the name of the club recalls a hundred +beautiful and interesting occasions.</p> + +<p>The Journal hurries us on from day to arduous day. +Even the aspiration of New Year's Day, 1873, breathes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> +the note of hurry: "Dear Lord, let me this year be +worthy to call upon thy name!"</p> + +<p>February 5 finds her on another quest: "Mem. +Never to come by this route again. Had to turn out at +Utica at 4 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> Three hours in depot...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 1.</i> Went to Saturday Morning Club. +Found that John Fiske had failed them. Was told to +improvise a lecture on the spot. Did so...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 5.</i> Went to hear the arguments in favor +of rescinding the vote of censure against Charles +Sumner...."</p> + +<p>[In 1872, Sumner introduced in the Senate of the +United States a resolution that the names of battles +with fellow-countrymen should not be continued in the +Army Register, nor placed on the regimental colors of +the United States. This measure was violently opposed; +the Legislature of Massachusetts denounced it +as "an insult to the loyal soldiery of the Nation, ... +meeting the unqualified condemnation of the Commonwealth." +For more than a year Sumner's friends, +headed by John G. Whittier, strove to obtain the +rescinding of this censure; it was not till 1874 that it +was rescinded by a large majority.]</p> + +<p>"<i>March 10.</i> A morning for work in my own room, so +rare a luxury that I hardly know how to use it. Begin +with my Greek Testament...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 17.</i> Radical Club.... It was an interesting +sitting, but I felt as if the Club had about done its +work. People get to believing that talk turns the world: +it is much, but it is nothing without work...."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 27.</i> Fifty-four years old to-day. Thank God<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> +for what I have had and hope to have.... In the +afternoon my dear children had a beautiful birthday +party for me, including most of my old friends and +some of the newer ones. Agassiz came, and his wife; +he brought a bouquet and kissed me. I had beautiful +flowers.... Poor Chev was ill with a frightful headache. +I was much touched by the dear children's affectionate +device and shall remember this birthday."</p> + +<p>This was the first of the Birthday Receptions, which +were to be our happiest festivals through many happy +years.</p> + +<p>Monday, June 2, was the day she had appointed +as Mothers' Peace Day, her annual Peace Festival.</p> + +<p>"The day of many prayers dawned propitious, and +was as bright and clear as I could have wished."</p> + +<p>She was up early, and found the hall "beautifully +decorated with many fine bouquets, wreaths, and baskets, +the white dove of Peace rising above other +emblems." There were two services, morning and +evening, and many speakers. "Mr. Tilden and Mr. +Garrison both did nobly for me.... Thank God for so +much!"</p> + +<p>She had the great joy of hearing that the day was +celebrated in other countries besides her own. In London, +Geneva, Constantinople, and various other places, +services were held, and men and women prayed and +sang in behalf of peace: this she counted among the precious +things of the year, and of several years to come.</p> + +<p>"<i>June 6.</i> Quiet at last, and face to face with the +eternal Gospel. Weary and confused, anxious to wind +up my business well, and begin my polyglot sheet...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span>Yet on June 10 she is arriving in New York at 5.40 +<span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, bound for a peace meeting.</p> + +<p>"<i>June 11.</i> I got two bricks from the dear old house +at the corner of Broadway and Bond Street, now all +down and rebuilding. Will have one enamelled for +myself. Ah, Lord, what a bitter lesson is in this tearing-down! +How I was wanting in duty to the noble parent +who built this grand home for me! I hope to help +young people to understand something of parental +love and its responsibilities. But parents also must +study children, since each new soul may require a +new method."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 12.</i> Home very gladly. Helped Maud with +her Latin. At 3.30 to rehearse 'Midsummer-Night's +Dream.' I Hermia and Snout. At 7.30 the reading, +which was the pleasantest we have had."</p> + +<p>[These readings were in the vestry of the Church of +the Disciples. Mr. Clarke, our mother, Erving Winslow, +and others of the congregation took part: we +remember the late Professor James Mills Pierce as +Orlando in "As You Like It"; his beautiful reading of +the part contrasting oddly with his middle-aged, long-bearded +personality. Our mother's rendering of Maria +in "Twelfth Night" was something to remember.]</p> + +<p>"<i>June 17.</i> Up at five and to get a boat. Maud and +the Lieutenant [Zalinski] rowed me to Fort Independence +and back, a most refreshing excursion. Dear Dr. +Hedge came out to make a morning visit. I kept him +as long as I could. We talked of Bartol, Rubinstein, +Father Taylor, and Margaret Fuller, whom he knew +when she was fourteen years old. He urged me to labor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> +for dress reform, which he considered much needed. +Had preached two sermons on the subject which his +dressy parishioners resented, telling him that their +husbands approved of their fine clothes. I begged him +to unearth these sermons and give them to us at the +club. We spoke of marriage, and I unfolded rapidly +my military and moral theory of human relations. +Thought of a text for a sermon on this subject: 'Arise, +take up thy bed and walk.' This because the ills of +marriage which are deemed incurable are not. We +must meet them with the energetic will which converts +evil into good, and without which all good degenerates +into evil."</p> + + +<p><br />July finds her at Oak Glen. She is full of texts and +sermons, but makes time to write to Fanny Perkins,<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> +proposing "<i>Picnics with a Purpose</i>, sketching, seaside +lectures, astronomical evenings." This thought may +have been the germ from which grew the Town and +Country Club, of which more hereafter.</p> + +<p>The writing of sermons seems to have crowded serious +poetry out of sight in these days, but the Comic +Muse was always at hand with tambourine and flageolet, +ready to strike up at a moment's notice. There was +much coming and going of young men and maidens at +Oak Glen in those days, and much singing of popular +songs of a melancholy or desperate cast. The maiden +was requested to take back the heart she had given; +what was its anguish to her? There were handfuls of +earth in a coffin hid, a coffin under the daisies, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> +beautiful, beautiful daisies; and so on, and so on, <i>ad +lachrymam</i>. She bore all this patiently; but one day +she said to Maud, "Come! You and these young persons +know nothing whatever of real trouble. I will +make you a song about a real trouble!" And she produced, +words and tune, the following ditty:—</p> + +<p>COOKERY BOOKERY, OH!</p> + +<p> +My Irish cook has gone away<br /> +Upon my dinner-party day;<br /> +I don't know what to do or say—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cookery bookery, oh!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Chorus</i>:</span><br /> +<br /> +Sing, saucepan, range, and kitchen fire!<br /> +Sing, coals are high and always higher!<br /> +Sing, crossed and vexed, till you expire!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cookery bookery, oh!</span><br /> +<br /> +She could cook every kind of dish,<br /> +"Wittles" of meat and "wittles" of fish,<br /> +And soup as fancy as you wish—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And she is gone away!</span><br /> +<br /> +She weighed two hundred pounds of cheek,<br /> +She had a voice that made me meek,<br /> +I had to listen when she did speak—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cookery bookery, oh!</span><br /> +<br /> +My husband comes, a saucy elf,<br /> +And eyes the saucepan on the shelf;<br /> +Says he, "Why don't you cook yourself?"<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cookery bookery, oh!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Chorus</i>:</span><br /> +<br /> +Sing, saucepan, range, and kitchen fire!<br /> +Sing, coals are high and always higher!<br /> +Sing, crossed and vexed, till you expire!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cookery bookery, oh!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span><i>Jocosa Lyra!</i> one chord of its gay music suggests +another. It may have been in this summer that she +wrote "The Newport Song," which also has its own +lilting melody.</p> + +<p> +<i>Non sumus fashionabiles:<br /> +Non damus dapes splendides:</i><br /> +But in a modest way, you know,<br /> +We like to see our money go:<br /> +<i>Et gaudeamus igitur</i>,<br /> +Our soul has nought to fidget her!<br /> +<br /> +We do not care to quadrigate<br /> +On Avenues in gilded state:<br /> +No gold-laced footmen laugh behind<br /> +At our vacuity of mind:<br /> +But in a modest one-horse shay,<br /> +We rumble, tumble as we may,<br /> +<i>Et gaudeamus igitur</i>,<br /> +Our soul has nought to fidget her!<br /> +<br /> +When æstivation is at end,<br /> +We've had our fun and seen our friend.<br /> +No thought of payment makes us ill,<br /> +We don't know such a word as "bill":<br /> +<i>Et gaudeamus igitur</i>,<br /> +Our soul has nought to fidget her!<br /> +</p> + +<p>She always tried to go at least once in the summer +to see the old people at the Town Farm, a pleasant, +gray old house, not far from Oak Glen.</p> + +<p>"In the afternoon visited the poorhouse with J. and +F. and found several of the old people again, old Nancy +who used to make curious patchwork; old Benny, half-witted; +Elsteth, Henrietta, and Harriet, very glad to +see us. Julia read them a Psalm, then Harriet and +Elsteth sang an interminable Methodist hymn, and I +was moved to ask if they would like to have me pray<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> +with them. They assented, and I can only say that +my heart was truly lifted up by the sense of the universality +of God's power and goodness, to which these +forlorn ones could appeal as directly as could the most +powerful, rich, or learned people."</p> + +<p>Later she writes:—</p> + +<p>"The summer seems to me to have been rich in good +and in interest as I review it. Sweet, studious days, +pleasant intercourse with friends, the joy of preaching, +and very much in all this the well-being of my dear +family, children and grandchildren, their father and +grandfather enjoying them with me. This is much to +thank God for."</p> + +<p>Some of the family lingered on after most of the +household <i>impedimenta</i> had been sent up to Boston, +and were caught napping.</p> + +<p>"Sitting quietly with Chev over the fire after a game +of whist with Julia and Paddock,—a hack-driver +knocked at the door of our little back parlor, saying +that a gentleman was waiting at the front door for +admission. I opened the door and found Dr. Alex +Voickoff, who had learned in Boston of our being here +and had come down to stay over Sunday. The floors +of nearly every parlor and bedroom had been newly +oiled. We had no spare bedding. I spared what I could +from my ill-provided bed—we made the guest as +comfortable as we could. The bedding had been sent +up to Boston. <i>Hinc illæ lachrymæ.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>November 26.</i> Saw Salvini's 'Othello.' As wonderful +as people say it is. The large theatre [the Boston] +packed, and so quiet that you could have heard a pin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> +drop. From the serene majesty of the opening scenes +to the agony of the end, all was grand and astounding +even to us to whom the play is familiar. The Italian +version seemed to me very fine, preserving all the literary +points of the original. In fact it seemed as if I had +always before heard the play through an English translation, +so much did the Italian speech and action light +it up."</p> + +<p>She found Salvini's "Hamlet" "not so good for him +as 'Othello,' yet he was wonderful in it, and made a +very strong impression."</p> + +<p>She met the great actor, and found his manners "cordial, +natural, and high-toned." She gave a dinner-party +for him, and found him to improve more and +more on further acquaintance. He became a valued +friend, always greeted with delight.</p> + +<p>In December, 1873, Richard Ward, her last surviving +uncle, died. He had lived on at No. 8 Bond Street +after the death of Uncle John, and had kept up the +traditions of that hospitable house, always receiving +her most affectionately.</p> + +<p>"<i>December 11.</i> Uncle Richard's funeral. A quiet one, +but on the whole satisfactory and almost pleasant, he +having lived out his life and dying surrounded by his +children and other relatives, and the family gathering +around his remains wearing an aspect of cordiality and +mutual good-will. I put a sprig of white daphne in the +folds of the marble drapery of dear father's bust and +kissed the bust, feeling that it had taken all of these +years to teach me his value and the value of the moral +and spiritual inheritance which I had from him and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> +could not wholly waste with all the follies which +checker the better intentions of my life. I went to +Greenwood and into the vault, and saw the sacred +names of the dear departed on the slabs which sealed +the deposit of their remains. It was all like a dream +and a sad one."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 12.</i> No. 8 Bond Street. I came down here +to write the records of yesterday and to-day in this +dear old house, whose thronging memories rise up to +wring my heart, in the prospect of its speedy dismantlement +and the division of its dear contents. Here I +came on my return from Europe in 1844, bringing my +dear Julia, then an infant of six months. Uncle John +had just bought and fitted it up. Here I came to attend +Sister Louisa's wedding, Uncle John being rather distant +to me, supposing that I had favored the marriage. +Here I saw dear Brother Marion for the last time. Here +I came in my most faulty and unhappy period. Here, +after my first publications; here, to see my play acted +at Wallack's. Here, when death had taken my dearest +Sammy from me. Uncle John was so kind and merciful +at that time, and always except that once, when indeed +he did not express <i>dis</i>pleasure, but I partly guessed it +and learned it more fully afterwards. God's blessing +rest upon the memory of this hospitable and unstained +house. It seems to me as if neither words nor tears +could express the pain I feel in closing this account +with my father's generation."</p> + + +<p><br />The most important episode of 1874, the visit to +Samana, has already been described. Turning the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span> +leaves of the Journal for this year, we feel that the +change and break were necessary to her as well as to +the Doctor. There were limits even to her strength.</p> + +<p>"<i>January, 1874.</i> A sort of melancholy of confusion, +not knowing how I can possibly get through with the +various requisitions made upon my time, strength, +thought, and sympathy. Usually I feel, even in these +moods, the nearness of divine help. To-day it seems +out of my consciousness, but is not on that account +out of my belief...."</p> + +<p>"The past week one dreadful hurry. Things look +colorless when you whirl so fast past them."</p> + +<p>"The month ending to-day seems the most hurried +of my life. Woman's Club, Saturday Club, Philosophical +group, Maud's music, ditto party, and all her +dressing and gayety, beside writing for [the Woman's] +Journal, ... two lectures [Salem and Weston], both +gratuitous, and the care of getting up and advertising +Bishop Ferrette's lectures. And in all these things I +seem not to do, rather than to do, the dissipation of +effort so calls me away from the quiet, concentrated +sort of work which I love."</p> + +<p>It was time for the Doctor to say "Come!" and +to carry her off to those tropical solitudes they had +learned to love so well. Yet the departure was painful, +for Maud must be left behind. On March 1 we read:—</p> + +<p>"Of to-day I wish to preserve the fact that, waking +early in painful perplexity about Maud, Santo +Domingo, etc., and praying that the right way might +open for me and for all of us, my prayer seemed answered +by the very great comfort I had in hearing the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> +prayer and sermon of Henry Powers of New York. +The decided spiritual tone of the prayer made me feel +that I must try to take, every day, this energetic attitude +of moral will and purpose, even if I fail in much +that I wish to do."</p> + +<p>On May 27 she writes:—</p> + +<p>"My birthday. Fifty-five years old. Still face to +face with the mercies of God in health and sanity, enjoying +all true pleasures more than ever and weaned +from some false ones. I feel a great lassitude, probably +from my cold and yesterday's fatigue. I have not +worked this year as I did the year before, yet I have +worked a good deal, too, and perhaps have tried more +to fulfil the duty nearest at hand.... I thank God for +my continued life, health, and comfort.... I ask to see +Samana free before I go.... 'Thy will be done' is the +true prayer."</p> + +<p>Samana was not to be free, spite of the efforts of its +friends, and she was not to see it again.</p> + +<p>The record of this year and the next is a chronicle of +arduous work, with the added and ever-deepening note +of anxiety; it was only for a time that the visit to +Samana checked the progress of the Doctor's physical +failure. He was able in the summer of 1874 to write +the forty-third report of the Perkins Institution: an +important one in which he reviewed his whole work +among the blind. He felt that this would probably +be his last earthly task; yet the following summer +found him again taking up the familiar work, laboring +with what little strength was left him, and when eyes +and hand refused to answer the call of the spirit, dictating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> +to his faithful secretary. It has been told elsewhere +how in this last summer of his life he labored +to make more beautiful and more valuable the summer +home which had become very dear to him.</p> + +<p>Returned to Green Peace, he had some happy days +in his garden, but for gardener and garden they were +the last days. The city had decided to put a street +through Green Peace: already workmen were digging +trenches and cutting trees. Our mother went to the authorities, +and told them of his feeble condition. The +work was stopped at once, and not resumed during +his lifetime.</p> + +<p>Through these years her time was divided between +the invalid and the many public duties which had +already taken possession of her life. Little by little +these were crowded out: instead of lecture or concert +came the ever-shortening walk with the Doctor, the +evening game of whist or backgammon which lightened +a little his burden of pain and weariness.</p> + +<p>Yet she was preparing, on January 4, 1876, to keep +a lecture engagement of long standing, when the blow +fell. He was stricken down, and lay for some days +insensible, waiting the final summons.</p> + +<p>There was no hope of his recovery: those around him +waited patiently, any violence of grief held in check by +the silent rebuke of the serene face on the pillow.</p> + +<p>The day after his death she writes:—</p> + +<p>"I awoke at 4.30, but lay still to bear the chastening +hand of God, laid upon me in severe mercy....</p> + +<p>"Some good words came to me: 'Let not your heart +be troubled,' etc. 'He doth not willingly afflict,' etc.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span>"Before breakfast went into Chev's room, so sweet +and peaceful.... I laid my lace veil, my bridal veil, +upon the head of his bedstead.... In place of my dear +husband I have now my foolish papers. Yet I have +often left him for them. God accept the poor endeavor +of my life!"</p> + +<p>On the day after the funeral she writes: "Began my +new life to-day. Prayed God that it might have a +greatly added use and earnestness."</p> + +<p>And several weeks later, after the memorial meeting +in his honor:—</p> + +<p>"Yesterday seems to have filled the measure of the +past. To-day I must forward in the paths of the future. +My dear love is sometimes with me, at least as an energizing +and inspiring influence, but how shall I deserve +ever to see him again?"</p> + +<p>The paths of the future! She was to tread them with +cheerful and willing feet through many long years, +never wholly losing the sense of companionship with +her good comrade.</p> + +<p>She devoted the spring of 1876 to the writing of a +brief memoir of him, which was printed in pamphlet +form and in raised type for the use of the blind. With +the latter object in view the memoir was necessarily +brief. The labor of condensing into a small space the +record of a long and super-active life was severe, but it +was the tonic she needed. The days of quiet at Green +Peace, the arduous work, with a page of Greek or +a chapter of Baur for relaxation, brought mind and +nerves back to their normal condition.</p> + +<p>The work speaks for itself. As it is little known to-day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span> +outside the schools for the blind, we quote the +concluding paragraph:—</p> + +<p>"In what is said, to-day, concerning the motherhood +of the human race, the social and spiritual aspects of +this great office are not wholly overlooked. It must be +remembered that there is also a fatherhood of human +society, a vigilance and forethought of benevolence +recognized in the individuals who devote their best +energies to the interests of mankind. The man to +whose memory the preceding pages are dedicated is +one of those who have best filled this relation to their +race. Watchful of its necessities, merciful to its shortcomings, +careful of its dignity, and cognizant of its +capacity, may the results of his labor be handed down +to future generations, and may his name and example +be held in loving and lasting remembrance."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>THE WOMAN'S CAUSE</h3> + +<h4>1868-1910</h4> + +<p> +Women who weave in hope the daily web,<br /> +Who leave the deadly depths of passion pure,<br /> +Who hold the stormy powers of will attent,<br /> +As Heaven directs, to act, or to endure;<br /> +<br /> +No multitude strews branches in their way,<br /> +Not in their praise the loud arena strives;<br /> +Still as a flameless incense rises up<br /> +The costly patience of their offered lives.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />We have seen that after the Doctor's death our +mother felt that another chapter of life had begun for +her. It was a changed world without that great and +dominant personality. She missed the strength on +which she had leaned for so many years, the weakness +which through the past months she had tended and +cherished. Henceforth she must lead, not follow; +must be captain instead of mate.</p> + +<p>In another sense, the new life had actually begun +for her some years before, when she first took up public +activities; to those activities she now turned the +more ardently for the great void that was left in heart +and home. We must now go back to the later sixties, +and speak of her special interests at that time.</p> + +<p>Looking back over her long life, we see her in three<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> +aspects, those of the student, the artist, the reformer. +First came youth, with its ardent study; then maturity, +with its output of poems, plays, essays. So far she had +followed the natural course of creative minds, which +must absorb and assimilate in order that they may +give out. It is in the third phase that we find the +aspect of her later life, a clear vision of the needs of +humanity, and a profound hospitality which made it +imperative for her to give with both hands not only +what she had inherited, but what she had earned. +Having enjoyed unusual advantages herself, the moment +she saw the way to give other women these +advantages, she was eager to "help the woman-standard +new unfurled."</p> + +<p>In the first number of the "Woman's Journal," of +which she was one of the founders and first editors, she +writes (January 8, 1870):—</p> + +<p>"We who stand beside the cradle of this enterprise +are not young in years. Our children are speedily preparing +to take our place in the ranks of society. Some +of us have been looking thoughtfully toward the final +summons, not because of ill health or infirmity, but +because, after the establishment of our families, no +great object intervened between ourselves and that +last consummation. But these young undertakings +detain us in life. While they need so much care and +counsel, we cannot consent to death. And this first +year, at least, of our Journal, we are determined to live +through."</p> + +<p>Again she writes of this new departure:—</p> + +<p>"In an unexpected hour a new light came to me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span> +showing me a world of thought and character. The +new domain was that of true womanhood, woman no +longer in her ancillary relation to man, but in direct +relation to the divine plan and purpose, as a free agent +fully sharing with man every human right and every +human responsibility. This discovery was like the addition +of a new continent to the map of the world. It +did not come all at once. In my philosophizing I at +length reached the conclusion that woman must be +the moral and spiritual equivalent of man. How otherwise +could she be entrusted with the awful and inevitable +responsibilities of maternity? The Civil War +came to an end, leaving the slave not only emancipated +but endowed with the full dignity of citizenship. +The women of the North had greatly helped to open +the door which admitted him to freedom and its safeguard, +the ballot. Was the door to be shut in their +face?"</p> + +<p>When this new world of thought, this new continent +of sympathy was opened to her, she was nearly fifty +years old. "Oh! had I earlier known," she exclaims, +"the power, the nobility, the intelligence which lie +within the range of true womanhood, I had surely +lived more wisely and to better purpose."</p> + +<p>Speaking of this new interest in her life, her old +friend Tom Appleton (who had not the least sympathy +with it) once said, "Your mother's great importance to +this cause is that she forms a bridge between the world +of society and the world of reform."</p> + +<p>She soon found that she was not alone in her questioning; +similar thoughts to hers were germinating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> +in the minds of many women. In our own and other +countries a host of earnest souls were awake, pressing +eagerly forward. In quick succession came the +women's clubs and colleges, the renewed demand for +woman suffrage, the Association for the Advancement +of Women, the banding together of women ministers. +The hour had come, and the women. In all these varying +manifestations of one great forward and upward +movement in America, Julia Ward Howe was <i>pars +magna</i>. Indeed, the story of the latter half of her life +is the story of the Advance of Woman and the part +she played in it.</p> + +<p>The various phases may be taken in order. Oberlin, +the first coeducational college, was chartered in 1834. +Vassar, the first college for women only, was chartered +in 1861, opened in 1865. Smith and Wellesley followed +in 1875. Considering this brave showing, it is +strange to recall the great fight before the barred doors +of the great universities. The women knocked, gently +at first, then strongly: our mother, Mrs. Agassiz, and +the rest. They were greeted by a storm of protest. +Learned books were written, brilliant lectures delivered, +to prove that a college education was ruinous to +the health of women, perilous to that of future generations. +The friends of Higher Education replied in +words no less ardent. Blast and counterblast rang +forth. Still the patient hands knocked, the earnest +voices called: till at length—there being friends as +well as foes inside—slowly, with much creaking and +many forebodings, the great doors opened; a crack, +then a space, till to-day they swing wide, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> +Higher Education of Women now stands firm as the +Pyramids.</p> + +<p>The idea of woman suffrage had long been repugnant +to our mother. The demand for it seemed +unreasonable; she was inclined to laugh both at the +cause and its advocates; yet when, in November, 1868, +Colonel Thomas Wentworth Higginson asked her to +give her name to a call for a meeting in behalf of +woman suffrage she did not refuse. It would be "a +liberal and friendly meeting," the Colonel said, "without +bitterness or extravagance."</p> + +<p>On the day of the meeting she "strayed into Horticultural +Hall" in her "rainy-day suit, with no idea of +taking any active part in the proceedings." Indeed, +she had hoped to remain unnoticed, until summoned +by an urgent message to join those who sat upon the +platform; reluctantly she obeyed the summons. With +this simple action the old order changed for her. On +the platform were gathered the woman suffrage leaders, +some of whom she already knew: William Lloyd Garrison, +Wendell Phillips, Thomas Wentworth Higginson, +James Freeman Clarke; veteran captains of Reform, +her husband's old companions-in-arms. Looking in +their steadfast faces, she felt that she belonged with +them; that she must help to draw the car of progress, +not drag like a brake on its wheel.</p> + +<p>Beside these were some unknown to her. She saw +now for the first time the sweet face of Lucy Stone, +heard the silver voice which was to be dear to her +through many years. "Here stood the true woman, +pure, noble, great-hearted, with the light of her good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> +life shining in every feature of her face." These men +and women had been the champions of the slave. +They now asked for wives and mothers those civil +rights which had been given to the negro; "that impartial +justice for which, if for anything, a Republican +Government should stand." Their speech was earnest; +she listened as to a new gospel. When she was +asked to speak, she could only say, "I am with you."</p> + +<p>With the new vision came the call of a new duty. +"What can I do?" she asked. The answer was ready. +The New England Woman Suffrage Association was +formed, and she was elected its first president. This +office she held, with some interruptions, through life. +It is well to recall the patient, faithful work of the +pioneer suffragists, who, without money or prestige, +spent <i>themselves</i> for the cause. Their efforts, compared +to the well-organized and well-financed campaigns of +to-day, are as a "certain upper chamber" compared +with the basilica of St. Peter, yet it was in that quiet +room that the tongues of Pentecost spoke.</p> + +<p>"I am glad," she often said, "to have joined the +suffrage movement, because it has brought me into +such high company."</p> + +<p>The convert buckled to her new task with all her +might, working for it early and late with an ardor that +counted no cost.</p> + +<p>"Oh! dear Mrs. Howe, you are so <i>full</i> of inspiration!" +cried a foolish woman. "It enables you to do <i>so +much</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Inspiration!" said "dear Mrs. Howe," shortly. +"Inspiration means <i>perspiration</i>!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span>She says of her early work for suffrage:—</p> + +<p>"One of the comforts which I found in the new association +was the relief which it afforded me from a +sense of isolation and eccentricity. For years past I +had felt strongly impelled to lend my voice to the convictions +of my heart. I had done this in a way, from +time to time, always with the feeling that my course +in doing so was held to call for apology and explanation +by the men and women with whose opinions I had +hitherto been familiar. I now found a sphere of action +in which this mode of expression no longer appeared +singular or eccentric, but simple, natural, and, under +the circumstances, inevitable."</p> + +<p>It was no small thing for her to take up this burden. +The Doctor, although a believer in equal suffrage, was +strongly opposed to her taking any active part in public +life. He felt as Grandfather Howe had felt forty +years before when his son Sam spoke in public for the +sake of Greece; it jarred on his traditions. Others of +the family also deplored the new departure, and her +personal friends almost with one accord held up hands +of horror or deprecation. These things were inexpressibly +painful to her; she loved approbation; the society +and sympathy of "kent folk," whose traditions corresponded +with her own; but her hand was on the +plough; there was no turning back.</p> + +<p>Suffrage worked her hard. The following year the +New England Woman Suffrage Association issued a +call for the formation of a national body; the names +signed were Lucy Stone, Caroline M. Severance, Julia +Ward Howe, T. W. Higginson, and G. H. Vibbert.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span> +Representatives from twenty-one States assembled +in Cleveland, November 24, 1869, and formed the +American Woman Suffrage Association. There was +already a "National Woman Suffrage Association," +formed a few months earlier; the new organization +differed from the other in some points of policy, notably +in the fact that men as well as women were +recognized among the leaders. Colonel Higginson +was its president at one time, Henry Ward Beecher, +Bishop Gilbert Haven, and Dudley Foulke at others. +The New England Woman's Club also admitted men +to membership: it was a point our mother had much at +heart. She held that the Quaker organization was the +best, with its separate meetings of men and women, +supplemented by a joint session of both. She always +insisted upon the salutary influence that men and +women exercise upon one another.</p> + +<p>"The two sexes police each other," she often said. +She always maintained the importance of their united +action in matters of public as of private interest. She +was essentially a humanist in contradistinction to a +feminist.</p> + +<p>She worked for the American Association during +the twenty-one years of its separate existence, first +as foreign corresponding secretary, afterward as president, +and in various other capacities. When, in 1890, +the two societies united to form the National American +Woman Suffrage Association, she became and continued +through life one of the vice-presidents of that +body. From the first, she was recognized as an invaluable +leader. The years of philosophical study had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span> +made her mind supple, alert, quick to grasp and to +respond, even as the study of languages brought her +the gift of ready speech and pure diction. Her long +practice in singing had given her voice strength, sweetness, +and carrying power; above all, she was a natural +orator, and speaking was a joy to her. The first time +she ever made a speech in public was to a group of +soldiers of the Army of the Potomac on the occasion of +a visit to Washington during the war. She had driven +out to visit the camp outside the Capital. Colonel +William B. Greene disconcerted her very much by +saying, "Mrs. Howe, you must speak to my men."</p> + +<p>She refused, and ran away to hide in an adjacent +tent. The Colonel insisted, and finally she managed +to make a very creditable little speech to the soldiers.</p> + +<p>Now, she no longer ran away when called upon to +speak. Wherever the work called her, she went gladly; +like St. Paul, she was "in journeyings often, ... in +weariness and painfulness, in watchings often"; the +journals are full of incidents picturesque to read, uncomfortable +to live through. Occasionally, after some +tremendous exertion, we read, "Maud must not know +of this!" or, "No one must ever know that I took the +wrong train!"</p> + +<p>Much of her most important work for woman suffrage +was done at the State House, Boston. In Massachusetts, +the custom of bringing this subject before +the legislature every year long prevailed. She always +went to these hearings. She considered it a privilege +to take part in them; counted them "among her most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span> +valued recollections." They extended over forty years +or more.</p> + +<p>These occasions were often exasperating as well as +fatiguing. She never wearied of presenting the arguments +for suffrage; she often suffered vexation of spirit +in refuting those brought against it, but she never +refused the battle. "If I were mad enough," she said +once, "I could speak in Hebrew!"</p> + +<p>She was "mad enough" when at a certain hearing +woman suffrage was condemned as a "minority +cause." Her words, if not in Hebrew, show the fighting +spirit of ancient Israel.</p> + +<p>We quote from memory:—</p> + +<p>The Reverend ——: "The fact that most women +are indifferent or opposed is a sufficient proof that +woman suffrage is wrong."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Howe: "May I ask one question? Were the +Twelve Apostles wrong in trying to bring about a +better social condition when almost the whole community +was opposed to them?"</p> + +<p>Dr. ——: "I suppose that question was asked +merely for rhetorical effect."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Howe (having asked for two minutes to reply, +with the whispered comment, "<i>I shall die</i> if I am not +allowed to speak!"): "I do not know how it is with +Dr. ——, but I was not brought up to use the Bible +for rhetorical effect. To my mind, the suffragists and +their opponents are like the wise and the foolish virgins +of the parable, equal in number but not in wisdom. +When the Bridegroom cometh, may Dr. —— have +his wedding garment ready!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span>She thus recalls some of the scenes in the State +House where she was so long a familiar figure:—</p> + +<p>"I have again and again been one of a deputation +charged with laying before a legislature the injustice +of the law which forbids the husband a business contract +with his wife, and of that which denies to a married +woman the right to be appointed guardian of her +children. We reasoned also against what in legal language +is termed 'the widow's quarantine,' the ordinance +which forbids a widow to remain in her husband's +house more than forty days without paying +rent, the widower in such case possessing an unlimited +right to abide under the roof of his deceased wife. +Finally, we dared ask that night-walkers of the male +sex should be made liable to the same penalties as +women for the same offence. Our bill passed the legislature, +and became part of the laws of Massachusetts."</p> + +<p>Elsewhere she writes: "In Massachusetts the +suffragists worked for fifty-five years before they +succeeded in getting a law making mothers equal +guardians of their minor children with the fathers. In +Colorado, when the women were enfranchised, the +next legislature passed such a bill." Of the movement +by which women won a right to have a voice in the +education of their children, she says: "The proposal +to render women eligible for service on the School +Board was met at first with derision and with serious +disapproval. The late Abby W. May had much to do +with the early consideration of this measure, and the +work which finally resulted in its adoption had its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span> +first beginning in the parlors of the New England +Woman's Club, where special meetings were held in +its behalf. The extension of the school suffrage to +women followed, after much work on the part of men +and of women."</p> + +<p>"These meetings," she said once, speaking before +the Massachusetts Woman Suffrage Association, +"show, among other things, the character of those who +believe in suffrage with their whole heart. We who are +gathered here are not a frantic, shrieking mob. We +are not contemners of marriage, nor neglecters of home +and offspring. We are individually allowed to be men +and women of sound intellect, of reputable life, having +the same stake and interest in the well-being of the +community that others have. Most of us are persons +of moderate competence, earned or inherited. We +have had, or hope to have, our holy fireside, our joyful +cradle, our decent bank account. Why should any +consider us as the enemies of society, we who have +everything to gain by its good government?"</p> + +<p>It seems fitting to add a few more of her words in +behalf of the cause which she served so long,—words +spoken at Club meetings, at Conventions before Legislatures.</p> + +<p>"But besides the philosophy of woman suffrage, we +want its religion. Human questions are not glorified +until they are brought into touch with the Divine...."</p> + +<p>"The weapon of Christian warfare is the ballot, +which represents the peaceable assertion of conviction +and will. Adopt it, O you women, with clean hands +and a pure heart!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"The religion which makes me a moral agent equally +with my father and brother, gives me my right and +title to the citizenship which I am here to assert. I +ought to share equally with them its privileges and +its duties. No man can have more at stake in the community +than I have. Imposition of taxes, laws concerning +public health, order, and morality, affect me +precisely as they affect the male members of my +family, and I am bound equally with them to look to +the maintenance of a worthy and proper standard and +status in all of these departments."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"God forbid that in this country chivalry and legislation +should be set one against the other. I ask you, +gentlemen, to put your chivalry into your legislation. +Let the true Christian knighthood find its stronghold +in your ranks. Arm yourselves with the best reasons, +with the highest resolve, and deliver us poor women from +the injustice which oppresses and defrauds us."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Revere the religion of home. Keep its altar flame +bright in your heart.... The vestals of ancient Rome +were at once guardians of the hearth and custodians +of the archives of the Roman State. So, in every time, +the home conserves the sacred flame of life, and the +destiny of the nation rests with those who keep it."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Go abroad with the majesty and dignity of your +home about you.... Let the modest graces of the +fireside adorn you in the great gathering. This is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span> +new sort of home missionary, one who shall carry the +blessed spirit of home wherever she goes, a spirit of +rest, of healing, of reconciliation and good-will."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"One aspect of this [the military argument] would +make the protection which men are supposed to give +to women in time of war the equivalent for the political +rights denied them. But, gentlemen, let me ask what +protection can you give us which shall compare with +the protection we give you when you are born, little +helpless creatures, into the world, without feet to stand +upon, or hands to help yourselves? Without this tender, +this unceasing protection, no man of you would live +to grow up. It may easily happen that no man of a +whole generation shall ever be called upon to defend +the women of his country in the field. But it cannot +happen that the women of any generation shall fail +to give their unwearied and energetic protection to the +infant men born of it. Some of us know how full of +labor and detail this protection is; what anxious days, +what sleepless nights it involves. The mothers are +busy at home, not only building up the bodies of the +little men, but building up their minds too, teaching +them to be gentle, pure and honest, cultivating the +elements of the human will, that great moralizing +power on which the State and the Church depend. A +man is very happy if he can ever repay to his mother +the protection she gave him in his infancy. So, the +plea of protection has two sides.</p> + +<p>"If manhood suffrage is unsatisfactory, it does not +at all show that woman suffrage would be. On the contrary,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span> +we might make it much better by bringing to it +the feminine mind, which, in a way, complements the +masculine, and so, I think, completes the mind of +humanity. We are half of humanity, and I do frankly +believe that we have half the intelligence and good +sense of humanity, and that it is quite time that we +should express not only our sentiments but our determined +will, to set our faces as a flint toward justice +and right, and to follow these through the difficult +path, through the thorny wilderness. Not to the bitter +end, but a very sweet end, and I hope it may be +before my end comes."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Her last service to the cause of woman suffrage was +to send a circular letter to all the editors and to all the +ministers of four leading denominations in the four +oldest suffrage States, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, and +Idaho, asking whether equal suffrage worked well or +ill. She received 624 answers, 62 not favorable, 46 in +doubt, and 516 in favor. A letter from her to the London +"Times," stating these results, appeared on the +same day that the news of her death was cabled to +Europe.</p> + +<p>Thinking of the long years of effort which followed +her adoption of the cause of woman suffrage, a word +of the Doctor's, spoken in 1875, comes vividly to mind.</p> + +<p>"Your cause," said he, "lacks one element of success, +and that is opposition. It is so distinctly just +that it will slide into popularity." He little thought +that the cause was to wait forty years for that +slide!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span>Side by side with the suffrage movement, growing +along with it and with the women's clubs, and in time +to be absorbed by them, was another movement which +was for many years very dear to her, the Association +for the Advancement of Women.</p> + +<p>This Association had its beginning in 1873, when +Sorosis, then a sturdy infant, growing fast and reaching +out in every direction, issued a call for a Congress of +Women in New York in the autumn of that year. She +says of this call:—-</p> + +<p>"Many names, some known, others unknown to me, +were appended to the document first sent forth. My +own was asked for. Should I give or withhold it? +Among the signatures already obtained, I saw that of +Maria Mitchell,<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> and this determined me to give my +own."</p> + +<p>She went to the Congress, and "viewed its proceedings +a little critically at first," its plan appearing to +her "rather vast and vague."</p> + +<p>Yet she felt the idea of the Association to be a good +one; and when it was formed, with the above title, +and with Mrs. Livermore as president, she was glad +to serve on a sub-committee, charged with selecting +topics and speakers for the first annual Congress.</p> + +<p>The object of the Association was "to consider +and present practical methods for securing to women +higher intellectual, moral, and physical conditions, +with a view to the improvement of all domestic and +social relations."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span>At its first Congress she said:</p> + +<p>"How can women best associate their efforts for the +amelioration of Society? We must come together in a +teachable and religious spirit. Women, while building +firmly and definitely the fabric they decide to rear, +must yet build with an individual tolerance which their +combined and corporate wisdom may better explain. +The form of the Association should be representative, +in a true and wide sense. Deliberation in common, +mutual instruction, achievement for the whole better +and more valuable than the success of any,—these +should be the objects held constantly in view. The +good of all the aim of each. The discipline of labor, +faith, and sacrifice is necessary. Our growth in harmony +of will and in earnestness of purpose will be far +more important than in numbers."</p> + +<p>One hundred and ninety women formed this Association: +a year later there were three hundred. The second +Congress was held in Chicago, with an attendance +"very respectable in numbers and character from the +first, and very full in afternoon and evening."</p> + +<p>On the second day, October 16, 1874, the subject +considered was "Crime and Reform." The Journal +says:—</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Ellen Mitchell's paper on fallen women was +first-rate throughout. I spoke first after it, saying +that we must carry the war into Africa and reform the +men...."</p> + +<p>The meetings of the Congress grew more and more +important to her. That of 1875 found her "much +tossed in mind" about going, on account of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span> +Doctor's ill health. She consulted Mr. Clarke, but +felt afterward that this was a mistake.</p> + +<p>"My dæmon says: 'Go and say nothing. Nobody +can help you bear your own child.'"</p> + +<p>She went.</p> + +<p>No matter how fatiguing these journeys were, she +never failed to find some enjoyment in them; many +were the pleasant "fruits of friendship" gathered +along the way. Some one of the sisters was sure to +have a tiny teapot in her basket; another would produce +a spirit-lamp; they drank their tea, shared their +sandwiches, and were merry. She loved to travel with +her "dear big Livermore," with Lucy Stone, and the +faithful Blackwells, father and daughter; perhaps her +best-loved companion was Ednah Cheney, her "esteemed +friend of many years, excellent in counsel and +constant and loyal in regard."</p> + +<p>Once she and Mrs. Cheney appeared together at an +"A.A.W." meeting in a Southern city, where speaking +and singing were to alternate on the programme. +It was in their later years: both were silver-haired +and white-capped. Our mother was to announce the +successive numbers. Glancing over the programme, +she saw that Mr. So-and-So was to sing "The Two +Grenadiers." With a twinkling glance toward Mrs. +Cheney, she announced, "The next number will be +'The Two Granny Dears'!"</p> + +<p>The Reverend Antoinette Blackwell, describing one +of these journeys, says:—</p> + +<p>"As we went onward I was ready to close my eyes +and 'loll' or look lazily out to see the flying landscape<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span> +seem to be doing the work. When I roused enough to +look at Mrs. Howe she was reading. Later, I looked +again, she was still reading. This went on mile after +mile till I was enough interested to step quietly across +the aisle and peep over Mrs. Howe's shoulder without +disturbing her. She was reading a Greek volume, +apparently with as much enjoyment as most of us gain +from reading in plain English when we are not tired.... +With apparent unwearied enjoyment, she told us +anecdotes, repeated the little stories and rhymes and +sang the little songs which she had given to her children +and grandchildren....</p> + +<p>"We lingered at the breakfast table in the morning +and among other things came to comparing social likes +and dislikes. 'I never can bring myself to destroy the +least bit of paper,' said Mrs. Howe, meaning paper +written on, containing the record of human thought +and feeling which might be of worth, and its only record. +To her these were the chief values of life."</p> + +<p>The following notes are taken from the record +of "A.A.W." journeys in the eighties:—</p> + +<p>"<i>Buffalo, October 22, 1881.</i> I felt quite distracted +about leaving home when I came this way for the +Congress, but have felt clear about the good of it, ever +since. I rarely have much religious meditation in +these days, except to be very sorry for a very faulty +life. I will therefore record the fact that I have felt +an unusual degree of religious comfort in these last +days. It seemed a severe undertaking to preach to-day +after so busy a week, and with little or no time for +preparation. But my text came to me as it usually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span> +does, and a hope that the sermon would be given to +me, which, indeed, it seemed to be. I thought it out in +bed last night and this morning...."</p> + +<p> +"My beautiful, beautiful West,<br /> +I clasp thee to my breast!<br /> +Or rather down I lie,<br /> +Like a little old babe and cry,<br /> +A babe to second childhood born,<br /> +Astonished at the mighty morn,<br /> +And only pleading to be fed,<br /> +From Earth's illimitable bread!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Left Schenectady yesterday. Drawing-room car. +Read Greek a good deal. At Syracuse I took the +tumbler of the car and ran out to get some milk, etc., +for supper. Spent 25 cents, and took my slender meal +in the car, on a table. After this, slept profoundly all +the evening; took the sleeper at Rochester, and slept +like the dead, having had very insufficient sleep for +two nights past. Was awakened early to get out at +Cleveland—much detained by a young woman who +got into the dressing-room before me, and stayed to +make an elaborate toilet, keeping every one else out. +When at last she came out, I said to her, 'Well, +madam, you have taken your own time, to the inconvenience +of everybody else. You are the most selfish +woman I ever travelled with.' Could get only a cup +of coffee and a roll at Cleveland—much confusion +about cars—regained mine, started, and found that +I had left my trunk at Cleveland, unchecked. Flew to +conductor, who immediately took measures to have it +forwarded. Must wait all day at Shelby, in the most +forlorn hole I ever saw called a hotel. No parlor, a +dark bedroom for me to stay in, a cold hell without the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span> +fire, and a very hot one with it. Dirty bed not made +up, a sinister likeness of Schuyler Colfax hanging high +on the wall, and a print of the managers of Andy Johnson's +impeachment. I—in distress about my trunk—have +telegraphed to Mansfield for the title of my +lecture and learn that it is 'Polite Society.' Must give +it without the manuscript, and must borrow a gown to +give it in."</p> + + +<p class="center">"<i>Minnesota in Winter</i></p> + +<p>"The twistings and turnings of a lecture trip have +brought me twice, in the present season, to Minnesota....</p> + +<p>"To an Easterner, a daily walk or two is the first +condition of health. Here, the frost seemed to enter +one's very bones, and to make locomotion difficult.... +Life at the hotel was mostly an anxious <i>tête-à-tête</i> +with an air-tight stove. Sometimes you roasted before +it, sometimes you froze. As you crammed it with wood +at night, you said, 'Will you, oh! will you burn till +morning?' Finally, on the coldest night of all, and at +that night's noon, you bade it farewell, on your way to +the midnight train, and wondered whether you should +be likely to go further and fare worse....</p> + +<p>"After the lecture an informal sitting was held in +the parlor of my hostess, at which there was much talk +of the clubs of Boston; 'If I forget thee, O Jerusalem!' +being the predominant tone in the minds of those present. +And at noon, away, away, in the caboose of a +freight car, to meet the passenger train at Owatonna, +and so reach Minneapolis by early evening.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span>"To travel in such a caboose is a somewhat rough +experience. The dirt is grimy and of long standing. +The pictures nailed up on the boards are not of an +edifying description. The railroad employees who have +admitted us into their place of refuge wear dirty overalls, +and eat their dinner out of tin pails all afloat with +hot coffee. One of my own sex keeps me in countenance....</p> + + +<p class="center">"<i>Minneapolis</i></p> + +<p>"Twenty years ago, a small collection of wooden +houses, of no particular account, except for the natural +beauties of the spot on which they stood. Now, a +thriving and well-built city, whose manufacturers have +settled the controversy between use and beauty, by +appropriating the Falls of St. Anthony to the running +of their saw- and flour-mills. My first sensation of delight +here was at finding myself standing on Hennepin +Avenue. To a reader of Parkman's histories, the spot +was classic.... To refresh my own recollections, I had +recourse to the Public Library of the town, where I +soon found Parkman's 'Discovery of the Great West.' +Armed with this volume, with the aid of a cheap and +miserable railroad map, I traced out something of the +movements of those hardy French explorers. It was +like living part of a romance, to look upon the skies +and waters which had seen them wandering, suffering, +yet undaunted....</p> + + +<p class="center">"<i>St. Paul</i></p> + +<p>"But I cannot rest so near St. Paul without visiting +this famous city also. I contemplate a trip in the cars,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span> +but my friendly host leaves his business for a day, and +drives me over in an open sleigh. I do not undertake +this jaunt without Bostonian fears of death of cold, +but Minnesota cold is highly stimulating, and with the +aid of a bottle of hot water, I make the journey without +a shiver.... Numbers of Indian squaws from +Mendota walk the streets in groups. I follow three of +them into a warehouse. One of them has Asiatic features—the +others are rather pretty. They are Sioux. +I speak to them, but they do not reply. The owner of +the warehouse asks what he can show me. I tell him +that I desire to see what the squaws will buy. He says +that they buy very little, except beads, and have only +come into the store to warm themselves. They smile, +and obviously understand English. We dine at the +hotel, a very pleasant one. There is no printed bill of +fare, but the waiter calls off 'beefsteak, porksteak,' +etc., and we make a comfortable meal. I desire to +purchase some dried buffalo meat, and find some, not +without difficulty, as the season for selling it is nearly +over. The crowning romance of the day is a sleighride +of five miles on the Mississippi, giving us a near view +of its fluted bluffs and numerous islets. We visit also +the Falls of Minnehaha, now sheeted in ice, but very +beautiful, even in this disguise. We talk of 'Hiawatha,' +and my companion says, 'If Mr. Longfellow +had ever seen a Sioux Indian, he would not have +written "Hiawatha."' The way to the bottom of the +falls is so slippery with ice that I conclude not to attempt +it. The day, which was one of great exposure, +passed in great pleasure, and without chill or fatigue....</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span>"In my days of romance, I remember watching +late one night on board the Mediterranean steamer in +order to be sure of the moment in which we should pass +beyond the boundaries of the Italian shore. Something +like such a feeling of interest and regret came +over me when, in the unpoetic <i>sleeper</i>, I asked at what +hour of the night the cars would pass out of Minnesota +on the way back to Chicago. This sincere testimony +from a veteran of travel, in all sorts, will perhaps convince +those who do not know the young State that she +has a great charm of beauty and of climate, besides a +great promise of future prosperity and eminence."</p> + + +<p class="center">"<i>Kansas</i></p> + +<p>"Travel in Minnesota was living romance. Travel +in Kansas is living history. I could not cross its +borders, new as these are, without unlocking a volume +of the past, written in blood and in prayer, and sealed +with the forfeit of noble lives. A ghostly army of warriors +seemed to escort me as I entered the fair, broad +territory. John Brown, the captain of them, stretched +his hand to the Capitol, and Sumner, and Andrew, and +Howe were with him. Here was the stand made, here +the good fight begun, which, before it was well under +way, divided the thought and sentiment of Europe, as +well as those of America.</p> + +<p>"My tired spirit sought to shake off at this point the +commonplace sense of weariness and annoyance. To +be in Kansas, and that for work, not for pastime. To +bring the woman's word where the man's rough sword +and spade had once wrought together, this was poetry,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span> +not prose. To be cold, and hungry, and worn with +journeying, could not efface the great interest and +pleasure....</p> + + +<p class="center">"<i>Atchison</i></p> + +<p>"I was soon told that a gentleman was anxious to +speak with me concerning my land at Grasshopper, +which borders immediately upon his own. Judge Van +Winkle accordingly, with due permission, waited upon +me, and unfolded his errand. Grasshopper, he said, +was a growing place. It possessed already a store and +an apothecary. It had now occasion for a schoolhouse, +and one corner of my land offered the most convenient +place for such an institution. The town did not ask me +to give this land—it was willing to pay a fair price +for the two acres wanted. Wishing to learn a little +more about the township, I asked whether it possessed +the requisite variety of creeds.</p> + +<p>"'Have you a Baptist, a Methodist, an Episcopalian, +and a Universalist church?'</p> + +<p>"'No,' said my visitor, 'we have no church at all. +People who wish to preach can do so in some private +house.' I afterwards learn that Judge Van Winkle is +a student of Plato; who knows what may be his Hellenic +heresy? He is endorsed, however, by others as a +good, solid man, and the proposition for the schoolhouse +receives my favorable consideration.</p> + + +<p class="center">"<i>Leavenworth</i></p> + +<p>"My first visit to Leavenworth was a stay of a couple +of hours between trains, on my way to southern Kansas. +Short as this was, it yet brought to my acquaintance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span> +two new friends, and to my remembrance two +old ones. Of the new friends, the first seen was Rev. +Edward Sanborn, the Unitarian minister of the place. +Mr. Sanborn met me at the comfortless depot, and +insisted upon taking me to his lodgings, where Friend +Number Two, in the shape of his amiable wife, added +herself to the list of my well-wishers. Mr. Sanborn had +just been burned out. His house took fire while he and +his wife were spending Christmas Day with a neighbor, +and burned so quickly that no article in it could +be saved. He had found in the ashes the charred remains +of his manuscript sermons, and had good hope of +being able to decipher them. As the pleasant minutes +passed in easy conversation, I could not help reflecting +on the instinctive hospitality of Western life. This +cosy corner in a mere hired bedroom had given me a +rest and a shelter which I should have been unwilling +to ask for in some streets of palaces which have been +familiar to me from my youth up."</p> + + +<p><br />The Association for the Advancement of Women +was a pioneer society, and did vital work for twenty-five +years. During the greater part of that time she +was its president. She never missed (save when in +Europe) one of its annual congresses, or one of the +mid-year conferences (of officers only) which she considered +of high moment. She worked for the Association +with a loving enthusiasm that never varied or +faltered; and it was a real grief to her when the changing +of the old order resolved it into its elements, to +take new shape in the larger and farther-reaching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span> +work of the General Federation of Clubs, and other +kindred societies.</p> + +<p>Many of these may be called the children of +"A.A.W." The greatest service of the latter was in +founding women's clubs throughout the country. +Wherever they went, to conferences or conventions, +its leaders called about them the thoughtful women +of the neighborhood, and helped them to plan local +associations for study and work.</p> + + +<p><br />There was still another aspect of the Woman Question, +dearer to her even than "A.A.W."</p> + +<p>A woman minister once said: "My conviction that +Mrs. Howe was a divinely ordained preacher was +gained the first time that she publicly espoused the +question of woman suffrage in 1869."</p> + +<p>We have seen that little Julia Ward began her ministrations +in the nursery. At eight years old she was adjuring +her little cousin to love God and he would see +death approaching with joy. At eleven she was writing +her "Invitation to Youth":—</p> + +<p> +Oh! let thy meditations be of God,<br /> +Who guides thy footsteps with unerring eye;<br /> +And who, until the path of life is trod,<br /> +Will never leave thee by thyself to die.<br /> +<br /> +When morning's rays so joyously do shine,<br /> +And nature brightens at the face of day,<br /> +Oh! think then on the joys that shall be thine<br /> +If thou wilt early walk the narrow way.<br /> +</p> + +<p>We have followed her through the Calvinistic period +of religious gloom and fervor; through the intellectual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span> +awakening that followed; through the years when she +could say to Philosophy,—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">"... The world its plenitude</span><br /> +May keep, so I may share thy beggary."<br /> +</p> + +<p>These various phases were like divers-colored shades +covering a lamp: through them all the white flame of +religion burned clear and steady, fostered by a natural +piety which was as much a part of her as the +breath she drew.</p> + +<p>In the year 1865 came the call to preach. She was +asked to speak before the Parker Fraternity in Boston. +She chose for her discourse a paper on "Ideal Causation," +which she had thought "the crown of her +endeavor hitherto."</p> + +<p>"To my sorrow, I found that it did not greatly interest +my hearers, and that one who was reported to +have wondered 'what Mrs. Howe was driving at' had +spoken the mind of many of those present.</p> + +<p>"I laid this lesson much to heart, and, becoming +convinced that metaphysics did not supply the universal +solvent for human evils, I determined to find a <i>pou +sto</i> nearer to the sympathies of the average community, +from which I might speak for their good and my own.</p> + +<p>"From my childhood the Bible had been dear and +familiar to me, and I now began to consider texts and +sermons, in place of the transcendental webs I had +grown so fond of spinning. The passages of Scripture +which now occurred to me filled me with a desire to +emphasize their wisdom by a really spiritual interpretation. +From this time on, I became more and more +interested in the religious ministration of women...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span>Her first sermon was preached at Harrisburg in 1870. +Then followed the sermons in Santo Domingo, and +those of the Peace Crusade in London; from this time, +the Woman Ministry was one of the causes dearest to +her heart. The Journal from now on contains many +texts and notes for sermons.</p> + +<p>In 1871, "What the lost things are which the Son of +Man came to save, lost values, lost jewels, darkened +souls, scattered powers, lost opportunities."</p> + +<p>A year later: "Preached in the afternoon at the South +Portsmouth meetinghouse. Text, 'I will arise and go +unto my father,' Subject: 'The Fatherhood of God.' +I did as well as usual.... In the evening my text +was: 'Abide in me and I in you,' etc., but I was at +one moment so overcome with fatigue that the whole +thread of my discourse escaped me. I paused for a +moment, excused myself briefly to the congregation, +and was fortunate enough to seize the thread of my discourse +again, and got through quite well. I felt this +very much,—the fear of failure, I mean. The fatigue +was great and my brain felt it much. My dæmon told +me beforehand that I could not repeat this sermon +and had better read it. I shall believe him next time. +This is a difficult point, to know how far to trust the +dæmon. He is not to be implicitly trusted, nor yet to +be neglected. In these days I am forced to review the +folly and shortcomings of my life. My riper reason +shows me a sad record of follies and of faults. I seem +to sit by and listen sadly; no chastening for the present +is joyous but grievous."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sunday, September 29.</i> Reverend Mrs. Gustine to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span> +dine. I afterwards to church to hear her. A sweet +woman, called of God, with a real power. Her voice, +manner, and countenance, most sweet and impressive. +Intellection not remarkable, I think, but tone, feeling, +and effect very remarkable. No one, I think, would +doubt the reality of spiritual things after hearing her. +I asked myself why I am not jealous of her, as she +preaches far more effectively than I do. Well, partly +because I believe in my own gift, such as it is, and +partly because what she does is natural, genuine, and +without pretence or pretension. Her present Society +was much disturbed by strife when she was called to +its care. No man, she told me, could have united the +opposing parties. A true woman could. This shows me +a work that women have to do in the Church as well +as elsewhere. Where men cannot make peace, they can. +Mrs. Gustine says that by my writings and example +I have helped her a good deal. I am glad to hear this, +but pray to do far better than I have yet done.... +Thought much about Mrs. Gustine, who, without any +of my training and culture, can do what I cannot. I +can also do what she cannot—think a subject out. +She can only shadow and suggest, yet how powerful +is the contact of her soul, and what a good +power!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Saturday, October 26.</i> To Vineyard Haven to help +Mr. Stevens with to-morrow's services.... Arrival +rainy and dismal. Mission house lonely in a storm. +Mr. S.'s young niece very capable and pleasant; did +the honors and took care of me. I was very hungry +before supper, having had nothing since breakfast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span> +except a few chestnuts and a biscuit. Wondered a +little why I had come."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sunday, 27th.</i> Found out why I had come. +Preached from text: 'Oh, that men would praise the +Lord for his goodness and for his wonderful works,' +etc. Consider these wonderful works: the world we +live in, a human body and brain, a human soul.</p> + +<p>"<i>Evening.</i> 'The ministry of reconciliation,' how +Christianity reconciles man to God, nature to spirit, +men to each other.</p> + +<p>"I went through the two services entirely alone. I +felt supported and held up. I had hoped and prayed +this journey might bring some special good to some +one. It brought great comfort to me...."</p> + + +<p><br />On February 16, 1873, after hearing a powerful sermon, +she feels awakened to take up the work over +which she has dreamed so much, and talks with her +friend, Mary Graves, herself an ordained minister of +the Unitarian Church, about "our proposed Woman's +Mission here in Boston." A few days later she writes: +"Determine that my Sunday services must be held +and to see Redpath<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> in this connection."</p> + +<p>The result of this determination was the organization +of the Woman's Liberal Christian Union, which held +Sunday afternoon meetings through the spring. She +preached the first sermon, on March 16. "I meant," +she says, "to read my London sermon, but found it not +suitable. Wrote a new one as well as I could. Had a +very good attendance. Was forced to play the hymn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span> +tunes myself. Am thankful that the occasion seemed +to meet with acceptance."</p> + +<p>In 1873, a number of women ministers having come +to Boston to attend the May Anniversaries, she conceived +the idea of bringing them together in a meeting +all their own. She issued a call for a Woman Preachers' +Convention, and this convention, the first held in any +country, met on May 29, 1873. She was elected president, +the Reverends Mary H. Graves and Olympia +Brown vice-presidents, Mrs. Bruce secretary. The +Journal describes this meeting as "most harmonious +and happy."</p> + +<p>In 1893, speaking of this time, she said:—</p> + +<p>"I find that it is just twenty years, last spring, since +I made the first effort to gather in one body the women +who intended to devote themselves to the ministry.</p> + +<p>"The new liberties of utterance which the discussion +of woman suffrage had brought us seemed at this time +not only to invite, but to urge upon us a participation +in the advocacy of the most vital interests both of the +individual and of the community. With some of us, +this advocacy naturally took the form of preaching. +Pulpits were offered us on all sides, and the charm of +novelty lent itself to such merit and power as Nature +had vouchsafed us. I am so much of a natural church-woman, +I might say an ecclesiast, that I at once began +to dream of a church of true womanhood. I felt how +much the masculine administration of religious doctrine +had overridden us women, and I felt how partial +and one-sided a view of these matters had been inculcated +by men, and handed down by man-revering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span> +mothers. Now, I thought, we have got hold of what +is really wanting in the Church universal. We need +to have the womanly side of religion represented. Without +this representation, we shall not have the fulness +of human thought for the things that most deeply concern +it. As a first step, I undertook to hold religious +services on Sunday afternoons, and to secure for them +the assistance of as many woman preachers as I could +hear of. I had in this undertaking the assistance of my +valued friend, Reverend Mary H. Graves."</p> + +<p>The society thus formed was first called "The +Woman's Church," later, "The Woman's Ministerial +Conference." A second meeting was held, June 1, +1874, but it was not till 1892 that this Conference was +finally organized and established, to her great satisfaction. +She was elected its president, and held the +office till death.</p> + +<p>The secretary, Reverend Ada C. Bowles, says of +this Conference: "As its main object was to promote +a sense of fellowship, rather than to expect associated +labor, owing to the scattered membership, meetings +were not always regularly held, or possible. But it has +held together because Mrs. Howe loved it, and had a +secretary as loyal to her as she was to all the women +ministers."</p> + +<p>She herself has said: "I was impressed with the +importance of religious life, and believed in the power +of association. I believed that women ministers would +be less sectarian than men; and I thought that if those +of different denominations could meet occasionally and +compare notes, it would be of value."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span>After the formal conference, she welcomed the members +at her own house, talked with them, and heard +of their doings. Her eyes kindled as she heard of the +Wayside Chapel (of Malden, Massachusetts) built by +its pastor, Mrs. E. M. Bruce, who was also its trustee, +janitor, choir, and preacher; heard how for thirteen +years this lady had rung the bell every evening for +vesper service, and had never lacked a congregation: +or of the other woman who was asked "very diffidently" +if she would conduct the funeral services of an +honest and upright man who had died of drink, owing +to an inherited tendency.</p> + +<p>"They had expected to have it in the undertaker's +rooms," said the Reverend Florence Buck, of Wisconsin, +"but we had it in my own church. It was +packed with people of all sorts, who had been interested +in him; and the Bartenders' Union were there in +a body.... It was an opportunity that I would not +have given up to preach to the President and Senate +of the United States. Next day ... they said, 'We +expected she'd wallop us to hell; but she talked to us +like a mother!'"</p> + +<p>Then she turned to the president, and said, "The +woman minister is often lonely. I want to thank Mrs. +Howe, who welcomed me at the beginning of my ministry. +Her hand-clasp has stayed with me ever since."</p> + +<p>Our mother was never ordained: it is doubtful +whether she ever contemplated such a step; but she felt +herself consecrated to the work; wherever she was +asked to preach, she went as if on wings, feeling this +call more sacred than any other. She preached in all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span> +parts of the country, from Maine to California, from +Minnesota to Louisiana; but the pulpit in which she +felt most truly at home was that of the Church of the +Disciples. Mr. Clarke had first welcomed her there: +his successor, Charles Gordon Ames, became in turn +her valued friend and pastor.</p> + +<p>The congregation were all her friends. On Sundays +they gathered round her after service, with greetings +and kind words. She was ready enough to respond. +"Congregationing," as she called this little function, +was her delight; after listening devoutly to the sermon, +there was always a reaction to her gayest mood. Her +spirit came to church with folded hands of prayer, but +departed on dancing feet. Sometimes she reproached +herself with over-friskiness; but mostly she was too +wise for this, and let the sun shine when and where +it would.</p> + +<p>She preached many times in the Church of the Disciples. +The white-clad figure, the clasped hands, the +upturned face shining with the inner light, will be +remembered by some who read these pages.</p> + + +<p class="center">END OF VOLUME I</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<h3><br /><br /><br /> +JULIA WARD HOWE<br /> + +1819-1910<br /> +<br /> +VOLUME II +</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS2" id="CONTENTS2"></a>CONTENTS VOLUME II</h2> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents II"> +<tr><td align="right">I.</td><td align="left">EUROPE REVISITED. 1877</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_3b">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II.</td><td align="left">A ROMAN WINTER. 1878-1879</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_28b">28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III.</td><td align="left">NEWPORT. 1879-1882</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_46b">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV.</td><td align="left">241 BEACON STREET: THE NEW ORLEANS EXPOSITION. 1882-1885</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_80b">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V.</td><td align="left">MORE CHANGES. 1886-1888</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_115b">115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI.</td><td align="left">SEVENTY YEARS YOUNG. 1889-1890</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_143b">143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII.</td><td align="left">A SUMMER ABROAD. 1892-1893</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_164b">164</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII.</td><td align="left">"DIVERS GOOD CAUSES." 1890-1896</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_186b">186</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX.</td><td align="left">IN THE HOUSE OF LABOR. 1896-1897</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_214b">214</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X.</td><td align="left">THE LAST ROMAN WINTER. 1897-1898</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_237b">237</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI.</td><td align="left">EIGHTY YEARS. 1899-1900</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_258b">258</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII.</td><td align="left">STEPPING WESTWARD. 1901-1902</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_282b">282</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII.</td><td align="left">LOOKING TOWARD SUNSET. 1903-1905</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_308b">308</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV.</td><td align="left">"THE SUNDOWN SPLENDID AND SERENE." 1906-1907</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_342b">342</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV.</td><td align="left">"MINE EYES HAVE SEEN THE GLORY OF THE COMING OF THE LORD." 1808-1910</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_369b">368</a></td></tr> + +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>JULIA WARD HOWE</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3b" id="Page_3b ">[3]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>EUROPE REVISITED</h3> + +<h4>1877; <i>aet.</i> 58</h4> + +<p>A MOMENT'S MEDITATION IN COLOGNE CATHEDRAL</p> + +<p> +Enter Life's high cathedral<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With reverential heart,</span><br /> +Its lofty oppositions<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Matched with divinest art.</span><br /> +<br /> +Thought with its other climbing<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To meet and blend on high;</span><br /> +Man's mortal and immortal<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wed for eternity.</span><br /> +<br /> +When noon's high mass is over,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Muse in the silent aisles;</span><br /> +Wait for the coming vespers<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In which new promise smiles.</span><br /> +<br /> +When from the dome height echoes<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">An "<i>Ite, missa est</i>,"</span><br /> +Whisper thy last thanksgiving,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Depart, and take thy rest.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />From the time of the Doctor's death till her marriage +in 1887, the youngest daughter was her mother's companion +and yoke-fellow. In all records of travel, of +cheer, of merriment, she can say thankfully: "<i>Et ego +in Arcadia vixi</i>."</p> + +<p>The spring of 1877 found the elder comrade weary +with much lecturing and presiding, the younger somewhat +out of health. Change of air and scene was prescribed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4b" id="Page_4b ">[4]</a></span> +and the two sailed for Europe early in May.</p> + +<p>Throughout the journeyings which followed, our +mother had two objects in view: to see her own kind +of people, the seekers, the students, the reformers, and +their works; and to give Maud the most vivid first impression +of all that would be interesting and valuable +to her. These objects were not always easy to combine.</p> + +<p>After a few days at Chester (where she laments the +"restoration" of the fine old oak of the cathedral, +"now shining like new, after a boiling in potash") and +a glimpse of Hawarden and Warwick, they proceeded +to London and took lodgings in Bloomsbury (a quarter +of high fashion when she first knew London, now given +over to lodgings). Once settled, she lost no time in +establishing relations with friends old and new. The +Unitarian Association was holding its annual conference; +one of the first entries in the Journal tells of +her attending the Unitarian breakfast where she spoke +about "the poor children and the Sunday schools."</p> + +<p>Among her earliest visitors was Charles Stewart +Parnell, of whom she says:—</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Delia Stewart Parnell, whom I had known +in America, had given me a letter of introduction to her +son, Charles, who was already conspicuous as an advocate +of Home Rule for Ireland. He called upon me +and appointed a day when I should go with him to the +House of Commons. He came in his brougham and +saw me safely deposited in the ladies' gallery. He was +then at the outset of his stormy career, and his sister +Fanny told me that he had in Parliament but one supporter +of his views, 'a man named Biggar.' He certainly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5b" id="Page_5b">[5]</a></span> +had admirers elsewhere, for I remember having +met a disciple of his, O'Connor by name, at a 'rout' +given by Mrs. Justin McCarthy. I asked this lady if +her husband agreed with Mr. Parnell. She replied with +warmth, 'Of course; we are all Home Rulers here.'"</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 26.</i> To Floral Hall concert, where heard +Patti—and many others—a good concert. In the +evening to Lord Houghton's, where made acquaintance +of Augustus Hare, author of 'Memorials of a +Quiet Life,' etc., with Mrs. Proctor, Mrs. Singleton +[Violet Fane], Dr. and Mrs. Schliemann, and others, +among them Edmund Yates. Lord Houghton was most +polite and attentive. Robert Browning was there."</p> + + +<p><br />Whistler was of the party that evening. His hair was +then quite black, and the curious white forelock which +he wore combed high like a feather, together with his +striking dress, made him one of the most conspicuous +figures in the London of that day. Henry Irving came +in late: "A rather awkward man, whose performance of +'Hamlet' was much talked of at that time." She met +the Schliemanns often, and heard Mrs. Schliemann +speak before the Royal Geographical Society, where +she made a plea for the modern pronunciation of Greek. +In order to help her husband in his work, Mrs. Schliemann +told her, she had committed to memory long +passages from Homer which proved of great use to +him in his researches at Mycenæ and Tiryns.</p> + +<p><br />"<i>May 27....</i> Met Mr. and Mrs. Wood—he has +excavated the ruins at Ephesus, and has found the site<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6b" id="Page_6b">[6]</a></span> +of the Temple of Diana. His wife has helped him in his +work, and having some practical experience in the use +of remedies, she gave much relief to the sick men and +women of the country."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 2.</i> Westminster Abbey at 2 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> ... I enjoyed +the service, Mendelssohn's 'Hymn of Praise,' +Dean Stanley's sermon, and so on, very unusually. +Edward Twisleton seemed to come back to me, and so +did dear Chev, and a spiritual host of blessed ones who +have passed within the veil...."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 14.</i> Breakfast with Mr. Gladstone. Grosvenor +Gallery with the Seeleys. Prayer meeting at Lady +Gainsborough's.</p> + +<p>"We were a little early, for Mrs. Gladstone complained +that the flowers ordered from her country seat +had but just arrived. A daughter of the house proceeded +to arrange them. Breakfast was served at two +round tables, exactly alike.</p> + +<p>"I was glad to find myself seated between the great +man and the Greek minister, John Gennadius. The +talk ran a good deal upon Hellenics, and I spoke of the +influence of the Greek in the formation of the Italian +language, to which Mr. Gladstone did not agree. I +know that scholars differ on the point, but I still retain +the opinion I expressed. I ventured a timid remark +regarding the number of Greek derivatives used in our +common English speech. Mr. Gladstone said very +abruptly, 'How? What? English words derived from +Greek?' and almost</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"> +'Frightened Miss Muffet away.'</span> +</p> + +<p>"He is said to be habitually disputatious, and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7b" id="Page_7b">[7]</a></span> +thought that this must certainly be the case; for he +surely knew better than most people how largely and +familiarly we incorporate the words of Plato, Aristotle, +and Xenophon in our everyday talk."<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a></p> + + +<p><br />Mr. Gladstone was still playing the first rôle on the +stage of London life. Our mother notes hearing him +open the discussion that followed Mrs. Schliemann's +address before the Royal Geographical Society. Lord +Rosebery, who was at that time Mr. Gladstone's private +secretary, talked much of his chief, for whom he +expressed impassioned devotion. Rosebery, though he +must have been a man past thirty at the time, looked a +mere boy. His affection for "Uncle Sam" Ward was as +loyal as that for his chief, and it was on his account +that he paid our mother some attention when she was +in London.</p> + +<p>She always remembered this visit as one of the most +interesting of the many she made to the "province in +brick." She was driving three horses abreast,—her +own life, Maud's life, the life of London. She often +spoke of the great interest of seeing so many different +circles of London society; likening it to a layer cake, +which a fortunate stranger is able to cut through, enjoying +a little of each. Her modest Bloomsbury lodgings +were often crowded by the leaders of the world of +letters, philanthropy, and art, and some even of the +world of fashion. The little lodging-house "slavey" +was often awed by the titles on the cards she invariably +presented between a work-worn thumb and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8b" id="Page_8b">[8]</a></span> +finger. It is curious to contrast the brief record of +these days with that of the Peace Crusade.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>June 10.</i> To morning service at the Foundling +Hospital—very touching. To luncheon with M. G. D. +where met the George Howards."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 15....</i> 'Robert' [opera] with Richard +Mansfield."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 18.</i> Synagogue."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 19.</i> Lord Mayor's Mansion House. I am to +speak there concerning Laura Bridgman. Henry James +may come to take me to St. Bart.'s Hospital."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 25.</i> 'Messiah.' Miss Bryce."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 26.</i> Dined with Capt. Ward. Theatre. Justin +McCarthy."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 28.</i> Meeting in Lambeth Library."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 29.</i> Russell Gurney's garden party.</p> + +<p>"Miss Marston's, Onslow Sq., 4 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Anti-vivisection. +Met Dudley Campbell. A day of rest, indeed. I +wrote out my anti-vivisection argument for to-morrow, +and finished the second letter to the Chicago 'Tribune.' +Was thus alone nearly all day. Dined at Brentini's in +my old fashion, chop, tea, and beer, costing one shilling +and fivepence."</p> + + +<p><br />She remembered with pleasure an evening spent +with the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire at Devonshire +House. A ball at Mr. Goschen's was another evening +of enchantment, as was also the dinner given for +her at Greenwich by Edmund Yates, where she had a +good talk with Mr. Mallock, whose "New Republic"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9b" id="Page_9b">[9]</a></span> +was one of the books of that season. She managed, too, +sometimes to be at home; among her visitors were +William Black, John Richard Green, and Mr. Knowles, +editor of the "Nineteenth Century."</p> + +<p>The London visit lasted nearly two months; as the +engagements multiply, its records grow briefer and +briefer. There are many entries like the following:—</p> + +<p>"Breakfast with Lord Houghton, where met Lord +Granville and M. Waddington, late Minister of Education +in France. Garden party at Chiswick in the +afternoon. Prince of Wales there with his eldest son, +Prince Albert Victor. Mrs. Julian Goldsmith's ball +in the evening."</p> + +<p>It is remembered that she bravely watched the +dancers foot it through the livelong night, and drove +home by daylight, with her "poor dancing Maud"!</p> + +<p>Madame Waddington was formerly Miss King, the +granddaughter of Mr. Ward's old partner. Our mother +was always interested in meeting any descendants +of Prime, Ward & King.</p> + +<p>With all this, she was writing letters for the Chicago +"Tribune" and the "Woman's Journal." This +year of 1877 saw the height of the Æsthetic movement. +Mrs. Langtry, the "Jersey Lily," was the +beauty and toast of the season. Gilbert and Sullivan's +"Patience" was the dramatic hit of the year, and +"Greenery yallery, Grosvenor Gallery" the most popular +catch of the day.</p> + +<p>She found it hard to tear herself away from England; +the visit (which she likened to one at the house +of an adored grandmother) was over all too soon. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10b" id="Page_10b">[10]</a></span> +July was almost gone; and the two travellers finally +left the enchanted island for Holland, recalling Emerson's +advice to one going abroad for the first time: +"A year for England, and a year for the rest of the +world!"</p> + +<p>The much neglected Journal now takes up the story.</p> + +<p>The great Franz Hals pictures delighted her beyond +measure. She always bought the best reproductions +she could afford, and valued highly an etching that +she owned from his Bohémienne. She never waited +for any authority to admire either a work of art or +a person. She had much to say about the influence +of the Dutch blood both in our own family and in our +country, which was to her merely a larger family connection. +All through Holland she was constantly noting +customs and traditions which we seemed to have +inherited; and she felt a great likeness and sympathy +between herself and some of the Dutch people she +knew.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>The Hague.</i> To the old prison where the instruments +of torture are preserved. The prison itself is so +dark and bare that to stay therein was a living death. +To this was often added the most cruel torture. The +poor wretch was stretched on a cross, on which revolving +wheels, turned by a crank, agonized and destroyed +his spinal column—or, by another machine, +his head and feet were drawn in opposite directions—or, +his limbs were stretched out and every bone broken +with an iron bar. Tortures of fire and water were +added. Through all these horrors, I saw the splendors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11b" id="Page_11b">[11]</a></span> +of faith and conscience which illuminated these dungeons, +and which enabled frail humanity to bear these +inflictions without flinching."</p> + +<p>She always wanted to see the torture chambers. She +listened to all the detailed explanations and looked at +all the dreadful instruments, buoyed up by the thought +of the splendors she speaks of, when mere shrinking +flesh-and-blood creatures like her companion, who only +thought of the poor tortured bodies, could not bear +the strain of it.</p> + +<p>From The Hague they went to Amsterdam, where +they "worked hard at seeing the rich museum, which +contains some of the largest and best of Rembrandt's +pictures, and much else of interest"; thence to Antwerp. +Here she writes:—</p> + +<p>"To the Museum, where saw the glorious Rubens +and Van Dycks, together with the Quentin Matsys +triptych. Went to the Cathedral, and saw the dear +Rubens pictures—my Christ in the Elevation of the +Cross seemed to me as wonderful as ever. The face +asks, 'Why hast thou forsaken me?' but seems also +to reflect the answer, from the very countenance of +the Father. Education of the Virgin by Rubens—angels +hold a garland above the studious head of the +young Madonna. This would be a good picture for +Vassar."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sunday, July 29.</i> Up betimes—to high mass at +the Cathedral. Had a seat near the Descent, and saw +it better than ever before. Could not see the Elevation +so well, but feasted my eyes on both. Went later +to the church of St. Paul where Rubens's Flagellation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12b" id="Page_12b">[12]</a></span> +is. Found it very beautiful. At 4 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> M. Félu<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a> +came to take us to the Zoo, which is uncommonly +good. The collection of beasts from Africa is very rich. +They are also successful in raising wild beasts, having +two elephants, a tiger, and three giraffes which have +been born in the cages—some young lions also. The +captive lioness always destroyed her young, and these +were saved by being given to a dog to nurse...."</p> + + +<p><br />August found the travellers in Prussia.</p> + +<p>"Passed the day in Berlin.... At night took railroad +for Czerwinsk, travelling second-class. After securing +our seats, as we supposed, we left the cars to +get some refreshments, when a man and a woman displaced +our effects, and took our places. The woman +refused to give me my place, and annoyed me by pushing +and crowding me."</p> + +<p>The brutality of this couple was almost beyond belief. +She was always so gracious to fellow-travellers +that they usually "made haste to be kind" in return. +She made it a point to converse with the intelligent-looking +people she met, either in the train or at the +<i>tables d'hôte</i> then still in vogue. She talked with these +chance acquaintances of their country or their profession. +It was never mere idle conversation.</p> + +<p>This journey across Europe was undertaken solely +for the pleasure of seeing her sister, always her first +object in visiting Europe. The bond between them +was very strong, spite of the wide difference of their +natures and the dissimilarity of their interests. Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13b" id="Page_13b">[13]</a></span> +Terry was now visiting her eldest daughter, Annie +Crawford, married to Baron Eric von Rabé and living +at Lesnian in German Poland. Baron Eric had served +in the Franco-Prussian War with distinction, had been +seriously wounded, and obliged to retire from active +service. Here was an entirely new social atmosphere, +the most conservative in Europe. Even before the +travellers arrived, the shadow of formality had fallen +upon them; for Mrs. Terry had written begging that +they would arrive by "first-class"! At that time the +saying was, "Only princes, Americans, and fools travel +first-class," and our mother's rule had been to travel +second. The journey was already a great expense, and +the added cost seemed to her useless. Accordingly, +she bought second-class tickets to a neighboring station +and first-class ones from there to Czerwinsk. This +entailed turning out in the middle of the night and +waiting an hour for the splendid express carrying the +stiff and magnificently upholstered first-class carriages, +whose red plush seats and cushions were nothing like +so comfortable as the old grey, cloth-lined, second-class +carriages!</p> + +<p>Still, the travellers arrived looking as proud as they +could, wearing their best frocks and bonnets. They +travelled with the Englishwoman's outfit. "Three +suits. Hightum, tightum, and scrub." "Hightum" +was for any chance festivity, "tightum" for the <i>table +d'hôte</i>, "scrub" for everyday travelling. The question +of the three degrees was anxiously discussed on +this occasion; it was finally decided that only "hightum" +would come up to the Von Rabé standard.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14b" id="Page_14b">[14]</a></span>"<i>August 4.</i> Arrived at Czerwinsk, where sister L. +and Baron von Rabé met us. He kissed my hand in a +courtly manner. My sister looks well, but has had a +hard time. We drove to Lesnian where Annie von R. +and her mother-in-law made us welcome."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 9, Lesnian.</i> A quiet day at home, writing +and some work. Tea with Sister L. in the open air. +Then went with Baron von Rabé to visit his farm +buildings, which are very extensive; not so nicely finished +as would be the case in America. We got many +fleas in our clothes.... In the evening the Baron began +to dispute with me concerning the French and the +use and excellence of war, etc...."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 12.</i> Up early—to Czerwinsk and thence +by Dirschau to Marienburg to see the famous Ritterschloss +of the Teutonic Knights.... Marien-Kirch.... +Angel Michael weighing the souls, a triptych—the +good in right wing received by St. Peter and +clothed by angels, the wicked in the other wing +going down. The beautiful sheen of the Archangel—like +peacock brightness—a devil with butterfly +wings."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 14.</i> In the church yesterday we were shown +five holes in a flat tombstone. They say that a parricide +was buried beneath this stone, and the fingers +of his hand forced themselves through these holes. +They showed us this hand, dried, and hung up in a +chapel. Here also we saw a piece of embroidery in fine +pearls, formerly belonging to the Catholic service, and +worth thousands of dollars. Some very ancient priests' +garments, with Arabic designs, were said to have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15b" id="Page_15b">[15]</a></span> +brought from the East by the Crusaders. An astronomic +clock is shown in the church. The man who made +it set about making another, but was made blind lest +he should do so. By and by, pretending that he must +repair or regulate something in the clock, he so puts it +out of order that it never goes again.</p> + +<p>"The amber-merchant—the felt shoes—views of +America—the lecture—the Baltic."</p> + + +<p><br />She was enchanted with Dantzig. The ancient +Polish Jews in their long cloth gabardines, with their +hair dressed in two curls worn in front of the ear and +hanging down on either side of the face, showed her +how Shylock must have looked. She was far more +interested in the relics of the old Polish civilization +than in the crude, brand-new Prussian régime which +was replacing it; but this did not suit her hosts. The +peasants who worked on the estate were all Poles; the +relations between them and their employer smacked +strongly of serfdom. One very intelligent man, who +often drove her, was called Zalinski. It struck her that +this man might be related to her friend Lieutenant +Zalinski, of the United States Army. She asked him if +he had any relatives in America. He replied that a +brother of his had gone to America many years before. +He seemed deeply interested in the conversation +and tried once or twice to renew it. One of the family, +who was driving with our mother at the time, managed +to prevent any more talk about the American +Zalinski, and when the drive was over she was seriously +called to account.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16b" id="Page_16b">[16]</a></span>"Can you not see that it would be extremely unfortunate +if one of our servants should learn that any +relative of his could possibly be a friend of one of our +guests?"</p> + +<p>She was never allowed to see Zalinski again; on inquiring +for him, she learned that he had been sent to a +fair with horses to sell. He did not return to Lesnian +during the remainder of her stay.</p> + +<p>One of the picturesque features of the visit was the +celebration of Baron Eric's birthday. It was a general +holiday, and no work was done on the estate. After +breakfast family and guests assembled in front of the +old château; the baron, a fine, soldierly-looking man, +his wife, the most graceful of women, and the only +daughter, a lovely little girl with the well-chiselled +Crawford features. The peasants, dressed in their best, +assembled in procession in the driveway; one by one, +in order of their age or position, they came up the steps, +presented the Baroness with a bouquet, bent the knee +and kissed the hand of Baron and Baroness. To most of +the guests the picture was full of Old-World romance +and charm. To one it was an offence. That the granddaughter +of her father, the child of her adored sister, +should have been placed by fate in this feudal relationship +to the men and women by whose labor she lived +outraged her democratic soul.</p> + +<p>The Journal thus describes the days at Lesnian:—</p> + +<p>"The Baron talked much last evening, first about +his crops, then about other matters. He believes duelling +to be the most efficient agency in promoting a +polite state of society. Would kill any one whom he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17b" id="Page_17b">[17]</a></span> +suspected of great wrong much sooner than bring him +to justice. The law, he says, is slow and uncertain—the +decision of the sword much more effectual. The +present Government favors duelling. If he should kill +some one in a duel, he would have two months of imprisonment +only. He despises the English as a nation +of merchants. The old German knights seem to be his +models. With these barbarous opinions, he seems to +be personally an amiable and estimable man. Despises +University education, in whose course he might have +come in contact with the son of a carpenter, or small +shopkeeper—he himself went to a Gymnase, with +sons of gentlemen...."</p> + +<p>"Everything in the Junkerschaft<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> bristles for another +war. Oscar von Rabé's room, in which I now +write, contains only books of military drill.</p> + +<p>"This day we visited the schoolhouse—session +over, air of the room perfectly fetid. Schoolmaster, +whom we did not see, a Pole—his sister could speak +no German. Tattered primers in German. Visited the +Jew, who keeps the only shop in Lesnian. Found a +regular country assortment. He very civil. <i>Gasthaus</i> +opposite, a shanty, with a beer-glass, coffee-cup and +saucer rudely painted on its whitewashed boards. +Shoemaker in a damp hovel, with mahogany furniture, +quite handsome. He made me a salaam with both +hands raised to his head."</p> + +<p>"We went to call upon Herr von Rohr, at Schenskowkhan—an +extensive estate. I had put on my +Cheney silk and my bonnet as a great parade. Our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18b" id="Page_18b">[18]</a></span> +host showed us his house, his books and engravings—he +has several etchings by Rembrandt. Herr von +Mechlenberg, public librarian of Königsberg, a learned +little old man, trotted round with us. We had coffee +and waffles. Mechlenberg considers the German +tongue a very ancient one, an original language, not +patched up like French and English, of native dialects +mingled with Latin."</p> + +<p>In one of her letters to the Chicago "Tribune" is a +significant passage written from Lesnian:—</p> + +<p>"Having seen in one of the Dantzig papers the announcement +that a certain Professor Blank would soon +deliver a lecture upon America, showing the folly of +headlong emigration thither and the ill fortune which +many have wrought for themselves thereby, one of us +remarked to a Dantziger that in such a lecture many +untruths would probably be uttered. Our friend replied, +with a self-gratulatory laugh, 'Ah, Madame! +We Germans know all about the women of America. +A German woman is devoted to her household, its care +and management; but the American women all force +their husbands to live in hotels in order that they may +have no trouble in housekeeping.'"</p> + +<p>She was as sensitive to criticism of her country as +some people are to criticism of their friends. Throughout +her stay in Germany she suffered from the captious +and provoking tone of the Prussian press about things +American.</p> + +<p>Even in the churches she met this note of unfriendliness. +She took the trouble to transcribe in her Journal +an absurd newspaper story.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19b" id="Page_19b">[19]</a></span> +"An American Woman of Business<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Some little time since, a man living near Niagara +Falls had the misfortune to fall from the bridge leading +to Goat's Island. [Berlin paper says <i>Grat</i> Island.] He +was immediately hurried to the edge of the fearful +precipice. Here, he was able to cling to a ledge of rock, +and to support himself for half an hour, until his unavoidable +fate overtook him. A compassionate and +excited multitude rushed to the shore, and into the +house, where the unhappy wife was forced to behold +the death struggle of her husband, lost beyond all +rescue, this spot yielding the best view of the scene of +horror. The 'excellent' wife had too much coolness to +allow this opportunity of making money to escape her, +but collected from every person present one dollar for +window rent. (Berliner <i>Fremdenblatt</i>, Sunday, August +26, 1877.)"</p> + + +<p><br />The stab was from a two-edged sword; she loved +profoundly the great German writers and composers. +She was ever conscious of the debt she owed to Germany's +poets, philosophers, and musicians. Goethe +had been one of her earliest sources of inspiration, +Kant her guide through many troublous years; Beethoven +was like some great friend whose hand had led +her along the heights, when her feet were bleeding from +the stones of the valley. These were the Germans she +knew; her Germany was theirs. Now she came in contact +with this new <i>Junker</i> Germany, this harsh, military, +unlovely country where Bismarck was the ruling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20b" id="Page_20b">[20]</a></span> +spirit, and Von Moltke the idol of the hour. It was a +rough awakening for one who had lived in the gentler +Fatherland of Schiller and of Schubert.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>August 31, Berlin.</i> Up early, and with carriage to +see the review.... A great military display. The Emperor +punctual at 10. '<i>Guten Morgen!</i>' shouted the +troops when he came. The Crown Princess on horseback +with a blue badge, Hussar cap. The kettle-drum +man had his reins hitched, one on either foot, guiding +his horse in this way, and beating his drums with both +hands...."</p> + + +<p><br />The Crown Princess, later the Empress Frederick, +daughter of Queen Victoria, and mother of the present +German Emperor, was the honorary colonel of the +hussar regiment whose uniform she wore, with the +addition of a plain black riding-skirt. Civilization +owes this lady a debt that cannot be paid save in +grateful remembrance. During the Franco-Prussian +War she frequently telegraphed to the German officers +commanding in France, urging them to spare the works +of art in the conquered country. Through her efforts +the studios of Rosa Bonheur and other famous painters +escaped destruction.</p> + + +<p><br />The early part of September was spent in Switzerland. +Chamounix filled the travellers with delight. +They walked up the Brevant, rode to the Mer de +Glace on muleback. The great feature, however, of +this visit to Switzerland was the Geneva Congress,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21b" id="Page_21b">[21]</a></span> +called by Mrs. Josephine Butler to protest against the +legalizing of vice in England.</p> + + +<p><br />"At the Congress to-day—spoke in French.... I +spoke of the two sides, active and passive, of human +nature, and of the tendency of the education given to +women to exaggerate the passive side of their character, +whereby they easily fall victims to temptation. Spoke +of the exercise of the intellectual faculties as correcting +these tendencies—education of women in America—progress +made. Coeducation and the worthier relations +it induces between young men and women. +Said, where society thinks little of women, it teaches +them to think little of themselves. Said of marriage, +that Milton's doctrine, 'He for God only, she for God +in him,' was partial and unjust. '<i>Ce Dieu, il faut le +mettre entre les deux, de manière que chacun des deux +appartienne premièrement à Dieu, puis tous les deux +l'un à l'autre.</i>'"</p> + +<p>"Wish to take up what Blank said to-day of the +superiority of man. Woman being created second. +That is no mark of inferiority. Shall say, this doctrine +of inequality very dangerous. Inferior position, inferior +education, legal status, etc. Doctrine of morality +quite opposite. If wife patient and husband not, wife +superior—if wife chaste, husband not, wife superior. +Each indispensable to each other, and to the whole. +Gentlemen, where would you have been if we had not +cradled and tended you?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Congress....</i> Just before the end of the meeting +Mr. Stuart came to me and said that Mrs. Butler<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22b" id="Page_22b">[22]</a></span> +wished me to speak for five minutes. After some hesitation +I said that I would try. Felt much annoyed at +being asked so late. Went up to the platform and did +pretty well in French. The audience applauded, +laughing a little at some points. In fact, my little +speech was a decided success with the French-speaking +part of the audience. Two or three Englishwomen +who understood very little of it found fault with me +for occasioning laughter. To the banquet...."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 23.</i> This morning Mrs. Sheldon Ames +and her brother came to ask whether I would go to +Germany on a special mission. Miss Bolte also wished +me to go to Baden Baden to see the Empress of Germany."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 24.</i> A conference of Swiss and English +women at 11 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> A sister of John Stuart Mill spoke, +like the other English ladies, in very bad French. +'<i>Nous femmes</i>' said she repeatedly. She seemed a +good woman, but travelled far from the subject of the +meeting, which was the work to be done to carry out +what the Congress had suggested. Mrs. Blank, of +Bristol, read a paper in the worst French I ever heard. +'<i>Ouvrager</i>' for '<i>travailler</i>' was one of her mistakes."</p> + + +<p><br />In spite of some slight criticisms on the management +of this Congress, she was heart and soul in sympathy +with its object; and until the last day of her life, +never ceased to battle for the higher morality which at +all costs protests against the legalizing of vice.</p> + +<p>Before leaving Geneva she writes:—</p> + +<p>"To Ferney in omnibus. The little church with its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23b" id="Page_23b">[23]</a></span> +inscription '<i>Deo erexit Voltaire</i>,' and the date.... I +remember visiting Ferney with dear Chev; remember +that he did not wish me to see the model [of Madame +Du Châtelet's monument] lest it should give me gloomy +thoughts about my condition—she died in childbirth, +and the design represents her with her infant bursting +the tomb."</p> + + +<p><br />October found the travellers in Paris, the elder still +intent on affairs of study and reform, the younger +grasping eagerly at each new wonder or beauty.</p> + +<p>There were meetings of the Academy of Fine Arts, +the Institute of France, the Court of Assizes: teachers' +meetings, too, and dinners with deaconesses (whom +she found a pleasant combination of cheerfulness and +gravity), and with friends who took her to the theatre.</p> + +<p>"To Palais de Justice. Court of Assizes—a young +man to be condemned for an offence against a girl of +ten or twelve, and then to be tried for attempt to kill +his brother and brother-in-law....</p> + +<p>"We were obliged to leave before the conclusion of +the trial, but learned that its duration was short, ending +in a verdict of guilty, and sentence of death. In +the days that followed our thoughts often visited this +unfortunate man in his cell, so young, apparently without +friends—his nearest relatives giving evidence +against him, and, in fact, bringing the suit that cost +his life. It seems less than Mosaic justice to put a man +to death for a murder which, though attempted, was +not actually committed. A life for a life is the old doctrine. +This is a life for an attempt upon a life."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24b" id="Page_24b">[24]</a></span>An essay on Paris, written soon after, recalls further +memories. She visited the French Parliament, and was +surprised at the noise and excitement which prevailed.</p> + +<p>"The presiding officer agitates his bell again and +again, to no purpose. He constantly cries, in piteous +tone: 'Gentlemen, a little silence, if you please.'"</p> + +<p>She tells how "one of the ushers with great pride +pointed out Victor Hugo in his seat," and says further:</p> + +<p>"I have seen this venerable man of letters several +times,—once in his own house.... We were first shown +into an anteroom, and presently into a small drawing-room. +The venerable viscount kissed my hand ... with +the courtesy belonging to other times. He was of +middle height, reasonably stout. His eyes were dark +and expressive, and his hair and beard were snow-white. +Several guests were present.... Victor Hugo +seated himself alone upon a sofa, and talked to no one. +While the rest of the company kept up a desultory +conversation, a servant announced M. Louis Blanc, +and our expectations were raised only to be immediately +lowered, for at this announcement Victor Hugo arose +and withdrew into another room, from which we were +able to hear the two voices in earnest conversation...."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 27.</i> Packing to leave Paris to-night for +Turin. The blanks left in my diary do not mark idle +days. I have been exceedingly busy, ... have written +at least five newspaper letters, and some other correspondence. +Grieved this morning over the time +wasted at shop windows, in desiring foolish articles +which I could not afford to buy, especially diamonds, +which I do not need for my way of life. Yet I have had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25b" id="Page_25b">[25]</a></span> +more good from my stay in Paris than this empty +Journal would indicate. Have seen many earnest men +and women—have delivered a lecture in French—have +started a club of English and American women +students, for which <i>Deo gratias!</i> Farewell, dear Paris, +God keep and save thee!"</p> + + +<p><br />She mentions this club in the "Reminiscences." "I +found in Paris a number of young women, students +of art and medicine, who appeared to lead very isolated +lives and to have little or no acquaintance with +one another. The need of a point of social union for +these young people appearing to me very great, I invited +a few of them to meet me at my lodgings. After +some discussion we succeeded in organizing a small +club, which, I am told, still exists.... [If we are not +mistaken, this small club was a mustard seed which in +time grew into the goodly tree of the American Girls' +Club.] I was invited several times to speak while in +Paris.... I spoke in French without notes.... Before +leaving Paris I was invited to take part in a congress +of woman's rights. It was deemed proper to elect +two presidents for this occasion, and I had the honor +of being chosen as one of them....</p> + +<p>"Somewhat in contrast with these sober doings was +a ball given by the artist Healy at his residence. I had +told Mrs. Healy in jest that I should insist upon dancing +with her husband. Soon after my entrance she +said to me, 'Mrs. Howe, your quadrille is ready for +you. See what company you are to have.' I looked +and beheld General Grant and M. Gambetta, who led<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26b" id="Page_26b">[26]</a></span> +out Mrs. Grant, while her husband had Mrs. Healy for +his partner in the quadrille of honor.... Marshal +MacMahon was at this time President of the French +Republic. I attended an evening reception given by +him in honor of General and Mrs. Grant. Our host +was supposed to be at the head of the Bonapartist +faction, and I heard some rumors of an intended <i>coup +d'état</i> which should bring back imperialism and place +Plon-Plon [the nickname for Prince Napoleon] on the +throne.... I remember Marshal MacMahon as a +man of medium height, with no very distinguishing +feature. He was dressed in uniform and wore many +decorations."</p> + +<p>During this visit to Paris, our mother consorted +largely with the men and women she had met at the +Geneva Congress. She takes leave of Paris with these +words: "Better than the filled trunk and empty purse, +which usually mark a return from Paris, will be a full +heart and a hand clasping across the water another +hand pure and resolute as itself."</p> + + +<p><br />The two comrades journeyed southward by way of +Turin, Milan, and Verona. Of the last place the +Journal says:—</p> + +<p>"Busy in Verona—first, amphitheatre, with its +numerous cells, those of the wild beasts wholesomely +lighted and aired, those of the prisoners, dark and +noisome and often without light of any kind.... Then +to the tombs of the Scaligers—grim and beautiful. +Can Signoria who killed his brother was the last. Can +Grande, Dante's host."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27b" id="Page_27b">[27]</a></span>In Verona she was full of visions of the great poet +whose exile she describes in the poem called, "The +Price of the Divina Commedia." One who met her +there remembers the extraordinary vividness of her impressions. +It was as if she had seen and talked with +Dante, had heard from his own lips how hard it was to +eat the salt and go up and down the stairs of others.</p> + +<p>From Verona to Venice, thence to Bologna. Venice +was an old friend always revisited with delight. Bologna +was new to her; here she found traces of the notable +women of its past. In the University she was +shown the recitation room where the beautiful female +professor of anatomy is said to have given her lectures +from behind a curtain, in order that the students' attention +should not be distracted from her words of +wisdom by her beauty. In the picture gallery she +found out the work of Elisabetta Sirani, one of the +good painters of the Bolognese school.</p> + +<p>And now, after twenty-seven years, her road led +once more to Rome.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28b" id="Page_28b">[28]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>A ROMAN WINTER</h3> + +<h4>1878-1879; <i>aet.</i> 59-60</h4> + +<p>JANUARY 9, 1878</p> + +<p> +A voice of sorrow shakes the solemn pines<br /> +Within the borders of the Apennines;<br /> +A sombre vision veils the evening red,<br /> +A shuddering whisper says: the King is dead.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Low lies he near the throne</span><br /> +That strange desert and fortune made his own;<br /> +And at his life's completion, from his birth<br /> +In one fair record, men recount his worth.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Chief of the Vatican!</span><br /> +Heir of the Peter who his Lord denied,<br /> +Not of the faith which that offence might hide,<br /> +Boast not, "I live, while he is coldly laid."<br /> +Say rather, in the jostling mortal race<br /> +He first doth look on the All-father's face.<br /> +Life's triple crown absolved weareth he,<br /> +Clear Past, sad Present, fond Futurity.<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><br />The travellers arrived in Rome in good time for the +Christmas dinner at Palazzo Odescalchi, where they +found the Terrys and Marion Crawford. On December +31 our mother writes:—</p> + +<p>"The last day of a year whose beginning found me +full of work and fatigue. Beginning for me in a Western +railway car, it ends in a Roman palace—a long stretch +of travel lying between. Let me here record that this +year has brought me much good and pleasure, as well +as some regrets. My European tour was undertaken +for dear Maud's sake. It took me away from the dear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29b" id="Page_29b">[29]</a></span> +ones at home, and from opportunities of work which +I should have prized highly. I was President of the +Woman's Congress, and to be absent not only from its +meeting, but also from its preparatory work, caused me +great regret. On the other hand, I saw delightful people +in England, and have seen, besides the old remembered +delights, many places which I never visited +before.... I am now with my dear sister, around +whom the shadows of existence deepen. I am glad to +be with her; though I can do so little for her, she is +doing very much for me."</p> + + +<p><br />This was a season of extraordinary interest to one +who had always loved Italy and pleaded for a generous +policy toward her. Early in January it became known +that King Victor Emanuel was dying. At the Vatican +his life-long adversary Pius IX was wasting away with +a mortal disease. It was a time of suspense. The two +had fought a long and obstinate duel: which of them, +people asked, would yield first to the conqueror on the +pale horse? There were those among the "Blacks" of +Rome who would have denied the last sacrament to +the dying King. "No!" said Pio Nono; "he has always +been a good Catholic; he shall not die without the +sacrament!" On the 9th of January the King died, and +"the ransomed land mourned its sovereign as with one +heart."<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a></p> + + +<p><br />"<i>January 12.</i> Have just been to see the new King +[Umberto I] review the troops, and receive the oath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30b" id="Page_30b">[30]</a></span> +of allegiance from the army. The King's horse was +a fine light sorrel—he in full uniform, with light blue +trousers. In Piazza del Independenza. We at the +American Consulate. Much acclamation and waving +of handkerchiefs. Went at 5 in the afternoon to see the +dead King lying in state. His body was shown set on +an inclined plane, the foreshortening disfigured his +poor face dreadfully, making his heavy moustache +to look as if it were his eyebrows. Behind him a +beautiful ermine canopy reached nearly to the ceiling—below +him the crown and sceptre on a cushion. +Castellani's beautiful gold crown is to be buried with +him."</p> + +<p>She says of the funeral:—</p> + +<p>"The monarch's remains were borne in a crimson +coach of state, drawn by six horses. His own favorite +war-horse followed, veiled in crape, the stirrups holding +the King's boots and spurs, turned backward. +Nobles and servants of great houses in brilliant costumes, +bareheaded, carrying in their hands lighted +torches of wax.... As the cortège swept by, I dropped +my tribute of flowers.<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a>..."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 19.</i> To Parliament, to see the mutual +taking of oaths between the new King and the Parliament. +Had difficulty in getting in. Sat on carpeted +stair near Mrs. Carson. Queen came at two in the +afternoon. Sat in a loggia ornamented with red velvet +and gold. Her entrance much applauded. With her +the little Prince of Naples,<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> her son; the Queen of +Portugal, her sister-in-law; and Prince of Portugal,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31b" id="Page_31b">[31]</a></span> +son of the latter. The King entered soon after two—he +took the oath standing bareheaded, then signed +some record of it. The oath was then administered +to Prince Amadeo and Prince de Carignan, then in +alphabetical order to the Senate and afterwards to the +Deputies."</p> + +<p>A month later, Pio Nono laid down the burden of +his years. She says of this:—</p> + +<p>"Pope Pius IX had reigned too long to be deeply +mourned by his spiritual subjects, one of whom remarked +in answer to condolence, 'I should think he +had lived long enough!'"</p> + + +<p><br />The winter passed swift as a dream, though not +without anxieties. Roman fever was then the bane of +American travellers, and while she herself suffered only +from a slight indisposition, Maud was seriously ill. +There was no time for her Journal, but some of the +impressions of that memorable season are recorded in +verse.</p> + +<p> +Sea, sky, and moon-crowned mountain, one fair world,<br /> +Past, Present, Future, one Eternity.<br /> +Divine and human and informing soul,<br /> +The mystic Trine thought never can resolve.<br /> +</p> + +<p>One of the great pleasures of this Roman visit was +the presence of her nephew Francis Marion Crawford. +He was then twenty-three years old, and extremely +handsome; some people thought him like the +famous bas-relief of Antinous at the Villa Albano. +The most genial and companionable of men, he devoted +himself to his aunt and was her guide to the <i>trattoria</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32b" id="Page_32b">[32]</a></span> +where Goethe used to dine, to Tasso's Oak, to +the innumerable haunts dedicated to the poets of +every age, who have left their impress on the Eternal +City.</p> + +<p>Our mother always loved acting. Her nearest approach +to a professional appearance took place this +winter. Madame Ristori was in Rome, and had promised +to read at an entertainment in aid of some +charity. She chose for her selection the scene from +"Maria Stuart" where the unhappy Queen of Scots +meets Elizabeth and after a fierce altercation triumphs +over her. At the last moment the lady who was to +impersonate Elizabeth fell ill. What was to be done? +Some one suggested, "Mrs. Howe!" The "Reminiscences" +tell how she was "pressed into the service," +and how the last rehearsal was held while the musical +part of the entertainment was going on. "Madame +Ristori made me repeat my part several times, insisting +that my manner was too reserved and would make +hers appear extravagant. I did my best to conform to +her wishes, and the reading was duly applauded."<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a></p> + +<p>Another performance was arranged in which Madame +Ristori gave the sleep-walking scene from "Macbeth." +The question arose as to who should take the +part of the attendant.</p> + +<p>"Why not your sister?" said Ristori to Mrs. Terry. +"No one could do it better!"</p> + +<p>In the spring, the travellers made a short tour in +southern Italy. One memory of it is given in the +following verses:—</p> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33b" id="Page_33b">[33]</a></span>NEAR AMALFI</p> + +<p> +Hurry, hurry, little town,<br /> +With thy labor up and down.<br /> +Clang the forge and roll the wheels,<br /> +Spring the shuttle, twirl the reels.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Hunger comes.</span><br /> +<br /> +Every woman with her hand<br /> +Shares the labor of the land;<br /> +Every child the burthen bears,<br /> +And the soil of labor wears.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Hunger comes.</span><br /> +<br /> +In the shops of wine and oil<br /> +For the scanty house of toil;<br /> +Give just measure, housewife grave,<br /> +Thrifty shouldst thou be, and brave.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Hunger comes.</span><br /> +<br /> +Only here the blind man lags,<br /> +Here the cripple, clothed with rags.<br /> +Such a motley Lazarus<br /> +Shakes his piteous cap at us.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Hunger comes.</span><br /> +<br /> +Oh! could Jesus pass this way<br /> +Ye should have no need to pray.<br /> +He would go on foot to see<br /> +All your depths of misery.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Succor comes.</span><br /> +<br /> +He would smooth your frowzled hair,<br /> +He would lay your ulcers bare,<br /> +He would heal as only can<br /> +Soul of God in heart of man.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Jesus comes.</span><br /> +<br /> +Ah! my Jesus! still thy breath<br /> +Thrills the world untouched of death.<br /> +Thy dear doctrine showeth me<br /> +Here, God's loved humanity<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Whose kingdom comes.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34b" id="Page_34b">[34]</a></span>The summer was spent in France; in November they +sailed for Egypt.</p> + +<p>"<i>November 27, Egypt.</i> Land early this morning—a +long flat strip at first visible. Then Arabs in a boat +came on board. Then began a scene of unparalleled +confusion, in the midst of which Cook's Arabian agent +found me and got my baggage—helping us all through +quietly, and with great saving of trouble.... A drive +to see Pompey's Pillar and obelisk. A walk through +the bazaar. Heat very oppressive. Delightful drive +in the afternoon to the Antonayades garden and villa.... +Mr. Antonayades was most hospitable, gave us +great bouquets, and a basket of fruit."</p> + +<p>"<i>Cairo.</i> Walked out. A woman swung up and down +in a box is brown-washing the wall of the hotel. She +was drawn up to the top, quite a height, and gradually +let down. Her dress was a dirty blue cotton gown, and +under that a breech-cloth of dirty sackcloth. We +were to have had an audience from the third Princess<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> +this afternoon, and were nearly dressed for the palace +when we were informed that the reception would take +place to-morrow, when there will be a general reception, +it being the first day of Bairam. Visit on +donkey-back to the bazaars, and gallop; sunset most +beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Up early, and all agog for the palace. I wore my +black velvet and all my [few] diamonds, also a white +bonnet made by Julia McAllister<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> and trimmed with +her lace and Miss Irwin's white lilacs. General Stone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35b" id="Page_35b">[35]</a></span> +sent his carriage with <i>sais</i> richly dressed. Reception +was at Abdin Palace—row of black eunuchs outside, +very grimy in aspect. Only women inside—dresses +of bright pink and yellow satin, of orange silk, blue, +lilac, white satin. Lady in waiting in blue silk and +diamonds. In the hall they made us sit down, and +brought us cigarettes in gilt saucers. We took a whiff, +then went to the lady in waiting who took us into the +room where the three princesses were waiting to receive +us. They shook hands with us and made us sit +down, seating themselves also. First and second Princesses +on a sofa, I at their right in a fauteuil, on my +left the third Princess. First in white brocaded satin, +pattern very bright, pink flowers with green leaves. +Second wore a Worth dress of corn brocade, trimmed +with claret velvet; third in blue silk. All in stupendous +diamonds. Chibouks brought which reached to the +floor. We smoke, I poorly,—mine was badly lighted,—an +attendant in satin brought a fresh coal and then +the third Princess told me it was all right. Coffee in +porcelain cups, the stands all studded with diamonds. +Conversation rather awkward. Carried on by myself +and the third Princess, who interpreted to the others. +Where should we go from Cairo? Up the Nile, in January +to Constantinople."</p> + +<p>"Achmed took me to see the women dance, in a +house where a wedding is soon to take place. Dancing +done by a one-eyed woman in purple and gold brocade—house +large, but grimy with dirt and neglect. +Men all in one room, women in another—several of +them one-eyed, the singer blind—only instruments<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36b" id="Page_36b">[36]</a></span> +the earthenware drum and castanets worn like rings +on the upper joints of the fingers. Arab café—the +story-teller, the one-stringed violin...."</p> + +<p>"To the ball at the Abdin Palace. The girls looked +charmingly. Maud danced all the night. The Khedive<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a> +made me quite a speech. He is a short, thickset man, +looking about fifty, with grizzled hair and beard. He +wore a fez, Frank dress, and a star on his breast. Tewfik +Pasha, his son and heir, was similarly dressed. Consul +Farman presented me to both of them. The suite +of rooms is very handsome, but this is not the finest of +the Khedive's palaces. Did not get home much before +four in the morning. In the afternoon had visited the +mosque of Sultan Abdul Hassan...."</p> + + +<p><br />After Cairo came a trip up the Nile, with all its +glories and discomforts. Between marvel and marvel +she read Herodotus and Mariette Bey assiduously.</p> + +<p>"<i>Christmas Day.</i> Cool wind. Native <i>reis</i> of the +boat has a brown woollen capote over his blue cotton +gown, the hood drawn over his turban. A Christmas +service. Rev. Mr. Stovin, English, read the lessons for +the day and the litany. We sang 'Nearer, my God, to +Thee,' and 'Hark, the herald angels sing.' It was a +good little time. My thoughts flew back to Theodore +Parker, who loved this [first] hymn, and in whose +'meeting' I first heard it. Upper deck dressed with +palms—waiters in their best clothes...."</p> + +<p>"To-day visited Assiout, where we arrived soon +after ten in the morning. Donkey-ride delightful,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37b" id="Page_37b">[37]</a></span> +visit to the bazaar. Two very nice youths found us +out, pupils of the American Mission. One of these +said, 'I also am Christianity.' Christian pupils more +than one hundred. Several Moslem pupils have embraced +Christianity.... This morning had a very +sober season, lying awake before dawn, and thinking +over this extravagant journey, which threatens to +cause me serious embarrassment."</p> + +<p>And again:—</p> + +<p>"The last day of a year in which I have enjoyed +many things, wonderful new sights and impressions, +new friends. I have not been able to do much useful +work, but hope to do better work hereafter for what +this year has shown me. Still, I have spoken four times +in public, each time with labor and preparation—and +have advocated the causes of woman's education, equal +rights and equal laws for men and women. My heart +greatly regrets that I have not done better, during these +twelve months. Must always hope for the new year."</p> + +<p>The record of the new year (1879) begins with the +usual aspirations:—</p> + +<p>"May every minute of this year be improved by +me! This is too much to hope, but not too much to +pray for. And I determine this year to pass no day +without actual prayer, the want of which I have felt +during the year just past. Busy all day, writing, washing +handkerchiefs, and reading Herodotus."</p> + +<p>On January 2, she "visited Blind School with General +Stone—Osny Effendi, Principal. Many trades +and handicrafts—straw matting, boys—boys and +girls weaving at hand loom—girls spinning wool and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38b" id="Page_38b">[38]</a></span> +flax, crochet and knitting—a lesson in geography. +Turning lathe—bought a cup of rhinoceros horn."</p> + +<p>On January 4 she is "sad to leave Egypt—dear +beautiful country!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Jerusalem, January 5.</i> I write in view of the +Mount of Olives, which glows in the softest sunset +light, the pale moon showing high in the sky. Christ +has been here—here—has looked with his bodily +eyes on this fair prospect. The thought ought to be +overpowering—is inconceivable."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 9.</i> In the saddle by half past eight in the +morning. Rode two hours, to Bethlehem. Convent—Catholic. +Children at the school. Boy with a fine head, +Abib. In the afternoon mounted again and rode in +sight of the Dead Sea. Mountains inexpressibly desolate +and grand. Route very rough, and in some places +rather dangerous.... Grotto of the Nativity—place +of the birth—manger where the little Christ was laid. +Tomb of St. Jerome. Tombs of two ladies who were +friends of the Saint. Later the plains of Boaz, which +also [is] that where the shepherds heard the angels. +Encamped at Marsaba. Greek convent near by receives +men only. An old monk brought some of the +handiwork of the brethren for sale. I bought a stamp +for flat cakes, curiously cut in wood. We dined luxuriously, +having a saloon tent and an excellent cook.... +Good beds, but I lay awake a good deal with visions of +death from the morrow's ride."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 10.</i> [In camp in the desert near Jericho.] +'Shoo-fly'<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a> waked us at half past five banging on a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39b" id="Page_39b">[39]</a></span> +tin pan and singing 'Shoo-fly.' We rose at once and +I felt my terrors subside. Felt that only prayer and +trust in God could carry me through. We were in the +saddle by seven o'clock and began our perilous crossing +of the hills which lead to the Dead Sea. Scenery inexpressibly +grand and desolate. Some frightful bits of +way—narrow bridle paths up and down very steep +places, in one place a very narrow ridge to cross, with +precipices on either side. I prayed constantly and so +felt uplifted from the abjectness of animal fear. After +a while we began to have glimpses of the Dead Sea, +which is beautifully situated, shut in by high hills, +quite blue in color. After much mental suffering and +bodily fatigue on my part we arrived at the shores of +the sea. Here we rested for half an hour, and I lay +stretched on the sands which were very clean and +warm! Remounted and rode to Jordan. Here, I had +to be assisted by two men [they lifted her bodily out +of the saddle and laid her on the ground] and lay on +my shawl, eating my luncheon in this attitude. Fell +asleep here. Could not stop long enough to touch the +water. We rested in the shade of a clump of bushes, +near the place where the baptism of Christ is supposed +to have taken place. Our cans were filled with water +from this sacred stream, and I picked up a little bit of +hollow reed, the only souvenir I could find. Remounted +and rode to Jericho. Near the banks of the Jordan we +met a storm of locusts, four-winged creatures which +annoyed our horses and flew in our faces. John the +Baptist probably ate such creatures. Afternoon ride +much better as to safety, but very fatiguing. Reached<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40b" id="Page_40b">[40]</a></span> +Jericho just after sunset, a beautiful camping-ground. +After dinner, a Bedouin dance, very strange and +fierce. Men and women stood in a semicircle, lighted +by a fire of dry thorns. They clapped their hands and +sang, or rather murmured, in a rhythm which changed +from time to time. A chief danced before them, very +gracefully, threatening them with his sword, with +which he played very skilfully. They sometimes went +on their knees as if imploring him to spare them. He +came twice to our tent and waved the sword close to +our heads, saying, '<i>Taih backsheesh</i>.' The dance was +like an Indian war-dance—the chief made a noise +just like the war-whoop of our Indians. The dance +lasted half an hour. The chief got his backsheesh and +the whole troop departed. Lay down and rested in +peace, knowing that the dangerous part of our journey +was over."</p> + +<p>"<i>In Camp in the Desert. January 11.</i> In the saddle +by half past seven. Rode round the site of ancient +Jericho, of which nothing remains but some portions of +the king's highway. Ruins of a caravanserai, which +is said to be the inn where the good Samaritan lodged +his patient. Stopped for rest and luncheon, at Beth—and +proceeded to Bethany, where we visited the tomb +of Lazarus. I did not go in—then rode round the +Mount of Olives and round the walls of Jerusalem, +arriving at half past three in the afternoon. I became +very stiff in my knees, could hardly be mounted on my +horse, and suffered much pain from my knee and abrasions +of the skin caused by the saddle. Did not get +down at the tomb of Lazarus because I could not have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41b" id="Page_41b">[41]</a></span> +descended the steps which led to it, and could not have +got on my horse again. When we reached our hotel, +I could not step without help, and my strength was +quite exhausted. I say to all tourists, avoid Cook's +dreadful hurry, and to all women, avoid Marsaba! +This last day, we often met little troops of Bedouins +travelling on donkeys—sometimes carrying with +them their cattle and household goods. I saw a beautiful +white and black lamb carried on a donkey. Met +three Bedouin horsemen with long spears. One of +these stretched his spear across the way almost touching +my face, for a joke."</p> + +<p>"<i>Jerusalem. Sunday, January 12.</i> English service. +Communion, interesting here where the rite was instituted. +I was very thankful for this interesting +opportunity."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 15.</i> Mission hospital and schools in the +morning. Also Saladin's horse. Wailing place of the +Jews and some ancient synagogues. In the afternoon +walked to Gethsemane and ascended the Mount of +Olives. In the first-named place, sang one verse of our +hymn, 'Go to dark Gethsemane.' Got some flowers +and olive leaves...."</p> + + +<p><br />After Jerusalem came Jaffa, where she delivered an +address to a "circle" at a private house. She says:—</p> + +<p>"In Jaffa of the Crusaders, Joppa of Peter and Paul, +I find an American Mission School, kept by a worthy +lady from Rhode Island. Prominent among its points +of discipline is the clean-washed face, which is so enthroned +in the prejudices of Western civilization. One<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42b" id="Page_42b">[42]</a></span> +of her scholars, a youth of unusual intelligence, finding +himself clean, observes himself to be in strong contrast +with his mother's hovel, in which filth is just kept +clear of fever point. 'Why this dirt?' quoth he; 'that +which has made me clean will cleanse this also.' So +without more ado, the process of scrubbing is applied +to the floor, without regard to the danger of so great +a novelty. This simple fact has its own significance, +for if the innovation of soap and water can find its +way to a Jaffa hut, where can the ancient, respectable, +conservative dirt-devil feel himself secure?"</p> + +<p>Apropos of mission work (in which she was a firm +believer), she loved to tell how one day in Jerusalem +she was surrounded by a mob of beggars, unwashed +and unsavory, clamoring for money, till she was well-nigh +bewildered. Suddenly there appeared a beautiful +youth in spotless white, who scattered the mob, took +her horse's bridle, and in good English offered to lead +her to her hotel. It was as if an angel had stepped into +the narrow street.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, dear youth?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"I am a Christian!" was the reply.</p> + +<p>In parting she says, "Farewell, Holy Land! +Thank God that I have seen and felt it! All good come +to it!"</p> + + +<p><br />From Palestine the way led to Cyprus ("the town +very muddy and bare of all interest") and Smyrna, +thence to Constantinople. Here she visited Robert +College with great delight. Returning, she saw the +"Sultan going to Friday's prayers. A melancholy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43b" id="Page_43b">[43]</a></span> +frightened-looking man, pale, with a large, face-absorbing +nose...."</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>February 3.</i> Early at Piræus. Kalopothakis<a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> met +us there, coming on board.... To Athens by carriage. +Acropolis as beautiful as ever. It looks small after the +Egyptian temples, and of course more modern—still +very impressive...."</p> + +<p>Athens, with its welcoming faces of friends, seemed +almost homelike after the Eastern journeyings. The +Journal tells of sight-seeing for the benefit of the +younger traveller, and of other things beside.</p> + +<p>"Called on the <i>Grande Maîtresse</i> at the Palace in +order to have cards for the ball. Saw the Schliemann +relics from Mycenæ, and the wonderful marbles gathered +in the Museum. Have been writing something +about these. To ball at the palace in my usual sober +rig, black velvet and so forth. Queen very gracious to +us.... Home by three in the morning."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 12.</i> At ten in the morning came a committee +of Cretan officers of the late insurrection, presenting +a letter through Mr. Rainieri, himself a Cretan, +expressing the gratitude of the Cretans to dear Papa +for his efforts in their behalf.... Mr. Rainieri made +a suitable address in French—to which I replied in +the same tongue. Coffee and cordial were served. The +occasion was of great interest.... In the afternoon +spoke at Mrs. Felton's of the Advancement of Women +as promoted by association. An American dinner of +perhaps forty, nearly all women, Greek, but understanding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44b" id="Page_44b">[44]</a></span> +English. A good occasion. To party at +Madame Schliemann's."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 15.</i> Miserable with a cold. A confused day +in which nothing seemed to go right. Kept losing sight +of papers and other things. Felt as if God could not +have made so bad a day—my day after all; I made it."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 18.</i> To ball at the Palace. King took +Maud out in the German."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 21.</i> The day for eating the roast lamb +with the Cretan chiefs. Went down to the Piræus +warmly wrapped up.... Occasion most interesting. +Much speech-making and toasting. I mentioned +Felton."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 22.</i> Dreadful day of departure. Packed +steadily but with constant interruptions. The Cretans +called upon me to present their photographs and take +leave. Tried a poem, failed. Had black coffee—tried +another—succeeded...."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 23.</i> Sir Henry Layard, late English minister +to the Porte, is on board. Talked Greek at dinner—beautiful +evening—night as rough as it could well +be. Little sleep for any of us. Glad to see that Lord +Hartington has spoken in favor of the Greeks, censuring +the English Government."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 26....</i> Sir Henry Layard and I <i>tête-à-tête</i> +on deck, looking at the prospect—he coveting it, +no doubt, for his rapacious country, I coveting it for +liberty and true civilization."</p> + + +<p><br />The spring was spent in Italy. In May they came +to London.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45b" id="Page_45b">[45]</a></span>"<i>May 29.</i> Met Mr. William Speare.... He told +me of his son's death, and of that of William Lloyd +Garrison. Gallant old man, unique and enviable in +reputation and character. Who, oh! who can take his +place? 'Show us the Father.'"</p> + + +<p><br />The last weeks of the London visit were again too +full for any adequate account of them to find its way +into her letters or journals. She visited London once +more in later years, but this was her last long stay. She +never forgot the friends she made there, and it was +one of the many day-dreams she enjoyed that she +should return for another London season. Sometimes +after reading the account of the gay doings chronicled +in the London "World," which Edmund Yates sent her +as long as he lived, she would cry out, "O! for a whiff +of London!" or, "My dear, we must have another +London season before I die!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46b" id="Page_46b">[46]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>NEWPORT</h3> + +<h4>1879-1882; <i>aet.</i> 60-63</h4> + +<p>A THOUGHT FOR WASHING DAY</p> + +<p> +The clothes-line is a Rosary<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of household help and care;</span><br /> +Each little saint the Mother loves<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is represented there.</span><br /> +<br /> +And when across her garden plot<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She walks, with thoughtful heed,</span><br /> +I should not wonder if she told<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each garment for a bead.</span><br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> + +A stranger passing, I salute<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Household in its wear,</span><br /> +And smile to think how near of kin<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are love and toil and prayer.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />July, 1879, found our mother at home at Oak Glen, +unpacking trunks and reading a book on the Talmud. +She had met the three married daughters in Boston +("We talked incessantly for seven hours," says the +Journal), and Florence and Maud accompanied her to +Newport, where Florence had established her summer +nursery. There were three Hall grandchildren now, and +they became an important factor in the life at Oak +Glen. All through the records of these summer days +runs the patter of children's feet.</p> + +<p>She kept only one corner of the house for her private +use; a room with the north light which she then +thought essential. This was at once bedroom and +workroom: she never had a separate study or library.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47b" id="Page_47b">[47]</a></span> +Here, as in Green Peace days, she worked quietly and +steadily. Children and grandchildren might fill the +house, might have everything it contained: she asked +only for her "precious time." When she could not +have an hour she took half an hour, a quarter, ten +minutes. No fragment of time was too small for her +to save, to invest in study or in work; and as her +mind concentrated instantly on the subject in hand, +no such fragment was wasted. The rule of mind over +body was relentless: sick or well, she must finish her +stint before the day closed.</p> + +<p>This summer of 1879 was a happy one. After the +feverish months of travel and pleasure, her delight in +the soft Newport climate was deeper than ever. She +always felt the change from the air of the mainland +to that of the island, and never crossed the bridge from +Tiverton to Bristol Ferry without an exclamation of +pleasure. She used to say that the soft, cool air of Newport +smoothed out the tired, tangled nerves "like a +silver comb"!</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>July 29.</i> To my Club, where, better than any +ovation, an affectionate greeting awaited me.... +Thucydides is very difficult."</p> + +<p>This was the Town and Country Club, for some +years a great interest to her. In her "Reminiscences" +she tells how in a summer of the late sixties or early +seventies, when Bret Harte and Dr. J. G. Holland, +Professors Lane and Goodwin of Harvard were spending +the season at Newport: "A little band of us combined +to improve the beautiful summer season by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48b" id="Page_48b">[48]</a></span> +picnics, sailing parties, and household soirées, in all of +which these brilliant literary lights took part. Helen +Hunt and Kate Field were often of our company, and +Colonel Higginson was always with us."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Among the frolics of that summer was the mock +Commencement, arranged by her and Professor Lane.</p> + +<p>"I acted as President, Colonel Higginson as my +aide; we both marched up the aisle in Oxford caps and +gowns. I opened the proceedings by an address in +Latin, Greek, and English; and when I turned to Colonel +Higginson and called him '<i>fili mihi dilectissime</i>,' +he wickedly replied with three bows of such comic +gravity that I almost gave way to unbecoming laughter. +Not long before this he had published a paper on +the Greek goddesses. I therefore assigned as his theme +the problem, 'How to sacrifice an Irish bull to a Greek +goddess.' Colonel George Waring, the well-known +engineer, being at that time in charge of a valuable +farm in the neighborhood, was invited to discuss +'Social small potatoes: how to enlarge their eyes.' An +essay on rhinoscopy was given by Fanny Fern, the +which I, chalk in hand, illustrated on the blackboard +by the following equation:—</p> + +<p> +"Nose + nose + nose = proboscis.<br /> +Nose - nose - nose = snub.<br /> +</p> + +<p>"A class was called upon for recitations from Mother +Goose in seven different languages. At the head of this +Professor Goodwin honored us with a Greek version +of the 'Man in the Moon.' A recent Harvard graduate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49b" id="Page_49b">[49]</a></span> +Dr. Gorham Bacon, recited the following, also of her +composition:—</p> + +<p> +"'Heu iterum didulum,<br /> +Felis cum fidulum,<br /> +Vacca transiluit lunam,<br /> +Caniculus ridet,<br /> +Quum tale videt,<br /> +Et dish ambulavit cum spoonam.'<br /> +</p> + +<p>"The question being asked whether this last line was +in strict accordance with grammar, the scholar gave +the following rule: 'The conditions of grammar should +always give way to the exigencies of rhyme.'</p> + +<p>"The delicious fooling of that unique summer was +never repeated. Out of it came, however, the more +serious and permanent association known as the Town +and Country Club of Newport. I felt the need of upholding +the higher social ideals and of not leaving true +culture unrepresented, even in a summer watering-place."</p> + +<p>With the help and advice of Professor and Mrs. William +B. Rogers, Colonel Higginson and Mr. Samuel +Powell, a number of friends were called together in the +early summer of 1874 and she laid before them the plan +of the proposed club. After speaking of the growing +predominance of the gay and fashionable element in +Newport society, she said:—</p> + +<p>"But some things can be done as well as others. +Newport ... has also treasures which are still unexplored....</p> + +<p>"The milliner and the mantua-maker bring here +their costly goods and tempt the eye with forms and +colors. But the great artist, Nature, has here merchandise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50b" id="Page_50b">[50]</a></span> +far more precious, whose value and beauty +are understood by few of us. I remember once meeting +a philosopher in a jeweller's shop. The master of +the establishment exhibited to us his choicest wares, +among others a costly diamond ornament. The philosopher +[we think it was Emerson] said, 'A violet is more +beautiful.' I cannot forget the disgust expressed in the +jeweller's face at this remark."</p> + +<p>She then outlined the course laid out by the "Friends +in Council," lectures on astronomy, botany, natural +history, all by eminent persons. They would not expect +the Club to meet them on their own ground. They +would come to that of their hearers, and would unfold +to them what they were able to understand.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, Weir Mitchell discoursed to them on +the Poison of Serpents, John La Farge on the South +Sea Islands, Alexander Agassiz on Deep-Sea Dredging +and the Panama Canal; while Mark Twain and +"Hans Breitmann" made merry, each in his own +inimitable fashion.</p> + +<p>The Town and Country Club had a long and happy +career. No matter what heavy work she might have +on hand for the summer, no sooner arrived at Newport +than our mother called together her Governing Committee +and planned out the season's meetings.</p> + +<p>It may have been for this Club that she wrote her +"Parlor Macbeth," an extravaganza in which she appeared +as "the impersonation of the whole Macbeth +family."</p> + +<p>In the prologue she says:—</p> + +<p>"As it is often said and supposed that a woman is at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51b" id="Page_51b">[51]</a></span> +the bottom of all the mischief that is done under the +sun, I appear and say that I am she, that woman, the +female fate of the Macbeth family."</p> + +<p>In the monologue that follows, Lady Macbeth +fairly lives before the audience, and in amazing travesty +relates the course of the drama.</p> + +<p>She thus describes the visit of the weird sisters (the +three Misses Macbeth) who have been asked to contribute +some of "their excellent hell-broth and devilled +articles" for her party.</p> + +<p>"At 12 <span class="smcap">m.</span>, a rushing and bustling was heard, and +down the kitchen chimney tumbled the three weird +sisters, finding everything ready for their midnight +operations.... 'That hussy of a Macbeth's wife leaves +us nothing to work with,' cried one. 'She makes double +trouble for us.' 'Double trouble, double trouble,' +they all cried and groaned in chorus, and presently fell +into a sort of trilogy of mingled prose and verse which +was enough to drive one mad.</p> + +<p> +'Where hast thou been?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Sticking pigs.</span><br /> +And where hast thou?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Why, curling wigs</span><br /> +Fit for a shake in German jigs<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And hoo! carew! carew!'</span><br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * +</p> + + +<p>"'We must have Hecate now, can't do without her. +Throw the beans over the broomstick and say boo!' +And lo, Hecate comes, much like the others, only +rather more so....</p> + +<p>"Now they began to work in good earnest. And +they had brought with them whole bottles of <i>sunophon</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52b" id="Page_52b">[52]</a></span> +and <i>sozodont</i>, and <i>rypophagon</i>, and <i>hyperbolism</i> +and <i>consternaculum</i>, and a few others. And in the +whole went. And one stirred the great pot over the +fire, while the others danced around and sang—</p> + +<p> +"'Black pepper and red,<br /> +White pepper and grey,<br /> +Tingle, tingle, tingle, tingle,<br /> +Till it smarts all day.'<br /> +</p> + +<p>"'Here's dyspepsia! Here's your racking headache +of a morning. Here's podagra, and jaundice, and a few +fits. And now it's done to a turn, and the weird sisters +have done what they could for the family.'</p> + +<p>"A rumbling and tumbling and foaming was now +heard in the chimney—the bricks opened, and He-cat +and She-cat and all the rest of them went up. And I +knew that my supper would be first-rate."</p> + + +<p><br />The time came when some of the other officers of +the Town and Country Club felt unable to keep the +pace set by her. She would still press forward, but +they hung back, feeling the burden of the advancing +years which sat so lightly on her shoulders. The Club +was disbanded; its fund of one thousand dollars, so +honorably earned, was given to the Redwood Library, +one of the old institutions of Newport.</p> + +<p>The Town and Country Club was succeeded by the +Papéterie, a smaller club of ladies only, more intimate +in its character. The exchange of "paper novels" +furnished its name and its <i>raison d'être</i>. The members +were expected to describe the books taken home from +the previous meeting. "What have you to tell us of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53b" id="Page_53b">[53]</a></span> +the novel you have been reading?" the president would +demand. Then followed a report, serious or comic, as +the character of the volume or the mood of the meeting +suggested. A series of abbreviated criticisms was made +and a glossary prepared: for example,—</p> + +<p> +"B. P.—By the pound.<br /> +M. A. S.—May amuse somebody.<br /> +P. B.—Pot-boiler.<br /> +F. W. B.—For waste-basket.<br /> +U. I.—Uplifting influence.<br /> +W. D.—Wholly delightful.<br /> +U. T.—Utter trash."<br /> +</p> + +<p>The officers consisted of the Glossarian, the Penologist, +whose duty it was to invent penalties for delinquents, +the Cor. Sec. and the Rec. Sec. (corresponding +and recording secretaries) and the Archivist, who had +charge of the archives. During its early years a novel +was written by the Club, each member writing one +chapter. It still exists, and part of the initiation of a +new member consists in reading the manuscript. The +"delicious fooling" that marked the first year of the +Town and Country Club's existence was the animating +spirit of the Papéterie. A friend christened it "Mrs. +Howe's Vaudeville." Merrymaking was her safety-valve. +Brain fag and nervous prostration were practically +unknown to her. When she had worked to the +point of exhaustion, she turned to play. Fun and frolic +went along with labor and prayer; the power of combining +these kept her steadily at her task till the end +of her life. The last time she left her house, six days +before her death, it was to preside at the Papéterie, +where she was as usual the life of the meeting! The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54b" id="Page_54b">[54]</a></span> +Club still lives, and, like the New England Woman's +Club, seems still pervaded by her spirit.</p> + +<p>The Clubs did not have all the fun. The Newport +"Evening Express" of September 2, 1881, says: "Mrs. +Julia Ward Howe has astonished Newport by her acting +in 'False Colors.' But she always was a surprising +woman."</p> + +<p>Another newspaper says: "The interest of the Newport +world has been divided this week between the +amateur theatricals at the Casino and the lawn tennis +tournament. Two representations of the comedy of +'False Colors' were given on Tuesday and Wednesday +evenings.... The stars were undoubtedly Mrs. Julia +Ward Howe and Mr. Peter Marié, who brought down +the house by their brightness and originality.... Mr. +Peter Marié gave a supper on the last night of the performance, +during which he proposed the health of Mrs. +Julia Ward Howe and the thanks of the company for +her valuable assistance. Mrs. Howe's reply was very +bright and apt, and her playful warnings of the dangers +of sailing under false colors were fully appreciated."</p> + +<p>It is remembered that of all the gay company she +was the only one who was letter-perfect in her part.</p> + + +<p><br />To return to 1879. She preached many times this +summer in and around Newport.</p> + +<p>"<i>Sunday, September 28.</i> Hard at work. Could not +look at my sermon until this day. Corrected my reply +to Parkman.<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> Had a very large audience for the place—all +seats full and benches put in."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55b" id="Page_55b">[55]</a></span>"My sermon at the Unitarian Church in Newport. +A most unexpected crowd to hear me."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 29.</i> Busy with preparing the dialogue +in 'Alice in Wonderland' for the Town and Country +Club occasion...."</p> + + +<p><br />Many entries begin with "hard at work," or "very +busy all day."</p> + +<p>This summer was made delightful by a visit from +her sister Louisa, with her husband<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a> and daughter. +Music formed a large part of the summer's pleasure. +The Journal tells of a visit from Timothée Adamowski +which was greatly enjoyed.</p> + +<p>"<i>October 11.</i> Much delightful music. Adamowski +has made a pleasant impression upon all of us."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 12, Sunday.</i> Sorry to say we made music all +day. Looked hard for Uncle Sam, who came not."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 13.</i> Our delightful matinée. Adamowski +and Daisy played finely, he making a great sensation. +I had the pleasure of accompanying Adamowski in a +Nocturne of Chopin's for violin and piano. All went +well. Our pleasure and fatigue were both great. The +house looked charming."</p> + + +<p><br />In the autumn came a lecture tour, designed to recoup +the heavy expenses of the Eastern trip. Never +skilful in matters of money-making, this tour was +undertaken with less preparation than the modern +lecturer could well imagine. She corresponded with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56b" id="Page_56b">[56]</a></span> +one and another Unitarian clergyman and arranged her +lectures largely through them. Though she did not +bring back so much money as many less popular +speakers, she was, after all, her own mistress, and was +not rushed through the country like a letter by ambitious +managers.</p> + +<p>The Journal gives some glimpses of this trip.</p> + +<p>"Twenty minutes to dress, sup, and get to the hall. +Swallowed a cup of tea and nibbled a biscuit as I +dressed myself."</p> + +<p>"Found the miserablest railroad hotel, where I +waited all day for trunk, in distress!... Had to lecture +without either dress or manuscript. Mrs. Blank +hastily arrayed me in her black silk, and I had fortunately +a few notes."</p> + +<p>She never forgot this lesson, and in all the thirty-odd +years of speaking and lecturing that remained, +made it an invariable rule to travel with her lecture and +her cap and laces in her handbag. As she grew older, +the satchel grew lighter. She disliked all personal service, +and always wanted to carry her hand-luggage herself. +The light palm-leaf knapsack she brought from +Santo Domingo was at the end replaced by a net, the +lightest thing she could find.</p> + + +<p><br />The Unitarian Church in Newport was second in her +heart only to the Church of the Disciples. The Reverend +Charles T. Brooks, the pastor, was her dear +friend. In the spring of 1880 a Channing memorial +celebration was held in Newport, for which she wrote +a poem. She sat on the platform near Mr. Emerson,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57b" id="Page_57b">[57]</a></span> +heard Dr. Bellows's discourse on Channing, "which +was exhaustive, and as it lasted two hours, exhausting." +The exercises, W. H. Channing's eulogium, etc., +etc., lasted through the day and evening, and in the +intervals between addresses she was "still retouching" +her poem, which came last of all. "A great day!" says +the Journal.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>July 23.</i> Very busy all day. Rainy weather. In the +evening I had a mock meeting, with burlesque papers, +etc. I lectured on <i>Ism-Is-not-m</i>, on <i>Asm-spasm-plasm</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 24.</i> Working hard, as usual. Marionettes at +home in the evening. Laura had written the text. Maud +was Julius Cæsar; Flossy, Cassius; Daisy, Brutus."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 28.</i> Read my lecture on 'Modern Society' in +the Hillside Chapel at Concord.... The comments of +Messrs. Alcott and W. H. Channing were quite enough +to turn a sober head."</p> + +<p>"To the poorhouse and to Jacob Chase's with Joseph +Coggeshall. Old Elsteth, whom I remember these many +years, died a few weeks ago. One of the pauper women +who has been there a long time told me that Elsteth +cried out that she was going to Heaven, and that she +gave her, as a last gift, a red handkerchief. Mrs. Anna +Brown, whom I saw last year, died recently. Her relatives +are people in good position and ought to have +provided for her in her declining years. They came, in +force, to her funeral and had a very nice coffin for her. +Took her body away for burial. Such meanness needs +no comment.</p> + +<p>"Jacob was glad to see me. Asked after Maud and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58b" id="Page_58b">[58]</a></span> +doubted whether she was as handsome as I was when +he first saw me (thirty or more years ago). His wife +said to me in those days: 'Jacob thinks thee's the only +good-looking woman in these parts.' She was herself +a handsome woman and a very sweet one. I wish I had +known I was so good-looking."</p> + + +<p><br />Of the writing of letters there was no end. Correspondence +was rather a burden than a delight to her; +yet, when all the "duty letters" were written, she +loved to take a fresh sheet and frolic with some one +of her absent children. Laura, being the furthest removed, +received perhaps more than her share of these +letters; yet, as will appear from them, she never had +enough.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, October 10, 1880. +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">Dearest, Dearest</span> L. E. R.,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>How I wonder how you R! Cause of silence not +hardness of heart, but the given necessity of scribbling +for dear life, to finish a promised paper for the Woman's +Congress, <i>sedebit</i> next week. I in Boston Wed., Thurs., +and Fri.—day being understood. Mowski [Adamowski] +left us yesterday morning.... We had him +here a fortnight, and enjoyed his visit extremely. At +table, between the courses, he played on every instrument +of the orchestra. I asked once for the bass drum, +which he imitated, adding thereunto the cymbals. +We had a lunch party last week, for the bride, Maud +Appleton, and "invited quite fashionable," and after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59b" id="Page_59b">[59]</a></span> +all she didn't come. "Sick in bed with diphtheria." +May by some be considered an excuse, but then, +it's very rude to be sick, and it's very troublesome +to other people. (This to make you feel badly about +your own shortcomings.) We had a little dance, +too, on Friday evening. An omnibus party came out +and a few others. I pounded the Lancers and some +ancient waltzes and polkas, ending with the Virginia +reel, in which last I thought my floor would give way, +the young men stamped so. I have no paper left +except some newspaper wrappers, so can't write any +more. Got up and found this scrap, then hunted for +my pen, which, after some search, I found in my mouth. +This is what it is to be lit'ry. Oh, my! I sometimes +wish I wasn't!...</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />In October, while visiting Julia at the Institution, +she missed her footing and fell down the two steps leading +to the dining-room, breaking the ligaments of her +knee. A letter to Laura makes the first mention of this +serious accident, whose effects she felt all her life.</p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, November 9, 1880. +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">Dearest Laura Child</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>Behold the mum-jacket, sitting clothed and in her +chair, confronting you after long silence, with comforting +words of recovery. I am now in the fourth week +of my infirmity, and I really think that the offending, +or rather offended, muscles have almost recovered +their natural power of contraction. My exercise is +still restricted to a daily walk from my bed in the small<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60b" id="Page_60b">[60]</a></span> +parlor to my chair in the large parlor, and back again. +But this walk, which at first was an impotent limp, +with bones clicking loosely, is now a very respectable +performance, not on the tight rope, indeed, but, let us +say, on the tight garter.... The only break in the +general uniformity of my life was dear Uncle Sam's +arrival on Sunday last. He remained with us a couple +of hours, and was as delightful as ever. Oh! more news. +With his kind help, I have taken Mrs. Lodge's small +house for the winter and this opens to me a comfortable +prospect, though, even with his help, the two +ends will have to be pulled a little in order to meet....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The furnished house in lower Mount Vernon Street +proved a pleasant habitat. It was nine years since she +had had a house in Boston; in spite of her lameness, +perhaps partly because of it, she enjoyed entertaining +her family and friends. Mrs. Terry and her daughter +spent part of the winter with them.</p> + +<p>The year 1880 was marked by the publication of her +first book since "Later Lyrics": a tiny volume entitled +"Modern Society," containing, beside the title +essay, a kindred one on "Changes in American Society." +The Journal makes little or no mention of this +booklet, but Thomas Wentworth Higginson says of +it: "It would be hard to find a book in American literature +better worth reprinting and distributing.... In +wit, in wisdom, in anecdote, I know few books so racy."</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>January 1, 1881.</i> I have now been lame for twelve +weeks, in consequence of a bad fall which I had on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61b" id="Page_61b">[61]</a></span> +October 17. I am still on crutches with my left knee +in a splint. Have had much valuable leisure in consequence +of this, but have suffered much inconvenience +and privation of preaching, social intercourse, etc. +Very little pain since the first ten days. Farewell, Old +Year! Thank the Heavenly Father for many joys, +comforts and opportunities."</p> + +<p>Her physician insisted upon her keeping quiet, but +she could not obey him, and continued to travel about +on crutches to keep her many engagements. Her faithful +coachman, Frank McCarthy, was her companion +on these journeys.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 26.</i> Busy most of the day with my lecture. +Had a visit from H. P. B.,<a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a> who advised me to +keep still and go nowhere until my lameness shall be +much better. Took 4.30 train for Concord, Massachusetts. +Maud would go with me, which grieved me, +as she thereby lost a brilliant ball.... We went to +Mr. Cheney's, where we found Frank Barlow, a little +older, but quite unchanged as to character, etc. He +has the endearing coquetry of a woman. Dear Mr. +Emerson and Mrs. came to my lecture. Mr. E. said +that he liked it. The audience was very attentive +throughout. Stepped only once on my lame foot in +getting into the sleigh...."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 28.</i> Busy all day with my address for +woman's suffrage meeting in the evening.... When +I entered with my crutches the audience applauded +quite generally.... Wendell Phillips made the concluding +speech of the evening. He was less brilliant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62b" id="Page_62b">[62]</a></span> +than usual, and kept referring to what I had said. I +thanked him for this afterwards, and he said that my +speech had spoiled his own; that I had taken up the +very points upon which he had intended to dwell."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 11.</i> Lecture at Groton, Massachusetts. +As I went down the steps to the carriage, one of my +crutches slipped and the careless hackman on my right +let me fall, Frank catching me, but not until I had given +my knee a severe wrench which gave me great pain. +I suffered much in my travel, but got through, Frank +helping me.... My knee seemed much inflamed and +kept me awake much of the night. My lecture on +'Polite Society' was well received. The good people +of the house brought me their new ledger, that my +name might be the first recorded in it."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 12.</i> Dinner of Merchants' Club. Edward +Atkinson invites me. Got back by early train, +7.50 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, feeling poorly. Did not let Maud know of +my hurt. Went to the dinner mentioned above, which +was at the Vendôme.... Was taken in to dinner by +the President, Mr. Fitz. Robert Collyer had the place +on my right. He was delightful as ever. Edward +Everett Hale sat near me and talked with me from +time to time. Of course my speech afflicted me. I got +through it, however, but had to lose the other speeches, +the hour being so late and the night so inclement, very +rainy."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 20.</i> Very lame this morning. No courage +to try to go out. Have been busy with Kant and +Miss Cobbe's new book, 'Duties of Women,' which I +am reviewing for the 'Christian Register.'..."</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63b" id="Page_63b">[63]</a></span><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">129 Mount Vernon Street</span>,<br /> +<br /> +February 27, 1881. +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Laura</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>... Mr. Longfellow came to see us yesterday, and +told us his curious dreams. In one of them, he went +to London and found James Russell Lowell <i>keeping a +grocery.</i> In another, people were vituperating the bad +weather, and dear Papa said: "Remember, gentlemen, +who makes it!" This impressed us as very characteristic +of our dear one. My lameness is decreasing very +slowly, and I have now been a week without the splint. +The knee, however, still swells if I attempt to use it, +and my life is still much restricted as to movement....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>February 28....</i> A cloud seems to lift itself from +that part of my mind which concerns, or should concern, +itself with spiritual things. Sometimes a strong +unwillen seizes me in this direction. I feel in myself no +capacity to comprehend any features of the unseen +world. My belief in it does not change, but my imagination +refuses to act upon the basis of the 'things not +seen.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>March 5.</i> Longfellow to dine."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 30.</i> In the evening to the ever-pleasing +Hasty-Pudding Theatrical Play, a burlesque of Victor +Hugo's 'Notre Dame de Paris,' with many saucy interjections. +The fun and spirits of the young men were +very contagious, and must have cheered all present +who needed cheering...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64b" id="Page_64b">[64]</a></span><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"><span class="smcap">129 Mount Vernon Street</span>,<br /> +<br /> +March 24, 1881. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">My darling Laura</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>The March wind blows, and gives me the spleen. +I don't care about anything, don't want my books, +nor my friends, nor nothing. But you, poor child, may +not be in this wicked, not caring condition, and so I +will write you, having oughted to for a considerable +time. Nothing stays put, not even put-ty. Letters +don't stay answered, faces don't stay washed, clothes +don't stay either clean or new. Children won't stay +the youngest. The world won't stay anywhere, anyhow. +Forty years ago was good enough for me. Why +couldn't it stay? Now, I see you undertaking to comfort +me in good earnest, and know just how you would +begin by saying: "Well, it should!"... Nunc Richard<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a> +here yesterday. Remarked nothing in particular, I replying +in like manner. Kept his arm very dark, under +a sort of cloak. We condoled [with] each other upon +our mental stupidity, and parted with no particular +views or sentiments. I have been to-day at a worldly +fashionable lunch. Nobody cared for anything but +what they had on and had to eat. "He! he!" said one: +"ho! ho! ho!" the other. "Is your uncle dead yet?" +"No, but my aunt is." "Grandfather Wobblestick used +to say"—"Why, of course he did!" Which is all that +I remember of the conversation. Now, darling, this is +perfectly hateful of me to turn and snarl at the hand +which has just been putting good morsels into my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65b" id="Page_65b">[65]</a></span> +mouth. But you see, this is a March wind in Boston, +and I can't help it. And I hobbled greatly up the big +staircase, also down. That's all. Auntie and Daisy +and Maud lunched, too, munchingly. D. made a new +capote for Maud. Nobody made nothing new for me. +I had no lace bow under my chin, and looked so neglected! +Maud and Daisy always on the wing, concerts, +theatres, lunches, etc., etc. Auntie and I have +some good evenings at home, in which we refresh the +venerable intelligence with the modern publication, +we do, to wit, "Early Life of Charles James Fox." We +also play Russian backgammon. Big Frank Crawford +has enlargement of 's liver. This P.M. late Mrs. C. C. +Perkins has recep. for Miss Carl Schurz. Girls going, +but going first to X.'s weekly weak tea and weaker +talk. Here again, you spleeny devil, get thee behind +me! I love my fellow-creatures, but, bless you, not in +this month.... Julia Nagnos takes tea round generally, +and finds that it agrees with her.... I regard +you, on the whole, with feeling. Farewell, Laura, I am +your poor old mad March hare Mamma. Love to +Skip and the little ones.</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>April 7.</i> Finished Carlyle's 'Reminiscences' to-day. +Perhaps nothing that he has left shows more +clearly what he was, and was not. A loyal, fervent, +witty, keen man.... His characterizations of individuals +are keenly hit off with graphic humor. But he +could make sad mistakes, and could not find them out, +as in the case of what he calls our 'beautiful Nigger +Agony'!!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66b" id="Page_66b">[66]</a></span>"I went out to the Cambridge Club, having had +chills and fever all the night before. Read my lecture +on Paris, which was well received, and followed by a +good discussion with plenty of differences of opinion. +Evening at home; another chill and fever."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">129 Mount Vernon Street</span>,<br /> + +April 24, 1881. +</div> + +<p>Bad old party, is and was. Badness mostly of +heart, though head has a decided crack in it. Unfeeling +old Beast! Left Laura so long without a word. +Guess 't isn't worth while for her to write anything +more.</p> + +<p>My poor dear little Laura, how miserably you must +have been feeling, I know well by your long silence. +Oh! posterity! posterity! how much you cost, and how +little you come to! Did I not cost as much as another? +And what do I come to? By Jingo!</p> + +<p>Darling, I have got some little miserable mean excuses. +Want 'em? Have had much writing to do, +many words for little money. For "Critic" (N.Y.) +and for "Youth's Companion" and other things. +Then, have kept up great correspondence with Uncle +Sam, who has given me a house in Beacon Street! <i>oh +gonniac!</i><a name="FNanchor_94_94" id="FNanchor_94_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a></p> + +<p>We had lit'ry party last week. Dr. Holmes and +William Dean Howells read original things. James +Freeman Clarke recited and we had ices and punch.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67b" id="Page_67b">[67]</a></span> +Maud thought it frumpy, but others liked it very +much. Have been to church to-day, heard J. F. C. +'Most off crutches now and hobble about the house +with a cane. Use crutches to go up and down stairs +and to walk in the street.... Have heard much music +and have seen Salvini once, in the "Gladiator," and +hope to see him on Thursday, in "Macbeth." How are +the dear children? I do want to see them, 'specially +July Ward....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 27.</i> Soon after 7 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> arrived Uncle Sam with +my dear sister Annie Mailliard from California; the +whole intended as a birthday surprise. My sister is +very little changed; always a most tender, sensitive +woman. Sister Louisa didn't know of this and came +at 11 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> to bring my greetings and gifts, with Mr. +Terry, Daisy, and Uncle Sam. When Sister Annie +appeared, Sister Louisa almost fainted with delight +and astonishment."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 20, Oak Glen</i>, Dear Flossy suffering at 6 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>—about +all day. Her child, a fine boy, born at 3 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> +We are all very happy and thankful. It was touching +to see the surprise and joy of the little children when +they were admitted to a sight of their new relative. +There was something reverent in the aspect of the +little creatures, as if they partly felt the mystery of +this new life which they could not understand. Some +one told them that it came from Heaven. Harry, four +years old, said: 'No, it didn't come from Heaven, for +it hasn't any wings.'"</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68b" id="Page_68b">[68]</a></span><i>To Laura (who, as usual, wanted a letter)</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, July 10, 1881. +</div> + +<p>Yes, she was a little injured, but not so bad as she +pretends. Feelings hurt dreadful? Self-esteem bruised +and swollen? Spleen a little touched? Well, she has +had the doctor, and the doctor said: "Her mother is +a public character, what can we do about it?"</p> + +<p> +Could my ink forever flow,<br /> +Could my pen no respite know.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Well, my darling, it was too bad, so we'll make up, +and kiss and be friends. But now you look here. Besides +all my lit'ry work, which seems to be heaviest in +summer time, I had an awful deal to do in taking care +of Flossy's children and the new baby. The babe is of +the crying sort! When anything is to be done for his +Ma, the nurse expects some one to hold him.... I +returned last night from a journey to Vermont, where +I read a paper before the American Institute of Education, +and also spoke at a suffrage meeting and also at +an outdoor mass meeting, and also at a suffrage meeting +in Montpelier, and came back, after four days' +absence, very tired. (Chorus, Don't tell Maud.)...</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>August 30.</i> My first performance at the Casino +Theatre. It went off very successfully, and I was much +applauded, as were most of the others. Supper afterwards +at Mrs. Richard Hunt's, where I had to appear +in 'plain clothes,' having been unable to accomplish +evening dress after the play. Dear Flossy went +with me."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69b" id="Page_69b">[69]</a></span>Another "performance" of that summer is not noted +in the Journal; an impromptu rendering of "Horatius +at the Bridge," in the "green parlor" at Oak Glen, +with the following cast:—</p> + +<p> +Horatius F. Marion Crawford.<br /> +Spurius Lartius J. W. H.<br /> +Herminius Maud Howe.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The green parlor was an oval grass plot, thickly +screened by tall cedars. Laura recited the ballad, +keeping her voice as she could while the heroes waged +desperate combat, but breaking down entirely when +Horatius "plunged headlong in the tide," and swam +with magnificent action across—the greensward!</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>September 18.</i> Preached in Tiverton to-day. Text: +'The fashion of this world passeth away.' Subject: +Fashion, an intense but transient power; in contradistinction, +the eternal things of God."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 25.</i> Spent much of this day in composing +a poem in commemoration of President Garfield's +death. Spared no pains with this and succeeded better +than I had expected."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 26.</i> The President's funeral. Services +held in most cities of the United States, I should judge. +Solemn services also in London and Liverpool."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Samuel Ward</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">241 Beacon Street</span>,<br /> + +December 22, 1881. +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">Dearest Brother</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>... <i>Your</i> house, darling, was bright and lovely, yesterday. +I had my old pet, Edwin Booth, to lunch—we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70b" id="Page_70b">[70]</a></span> +were nine at table, the poet Aldrich disappointing +us. From three to four we had a reception for Mr. +Booth, quite the <i>crême de la crême</i>, I assure you. +Among others, Dr. Holmes came. The rooms and furniture +were much admired. We gave only tea at the +levee, but had some of your good wine at the luncheon.</p> + +<p>P.S. Mr. Booth in "Lear" last night was sublime!</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote><p>Edwin Booth had sent us his box for the evening. +The play was "Hamlet," the performance masterly. +People's tastes about plays differ, but I am sure that +no one on the boards can begin to do what Booth does. +I saw him for a moment after the play, and he told me +that he had done his best for me. Somehow, I thought +that he was doing his very best, but did not suppose +that he was thinking of me particularly....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>January 29, 1882.</i> Frank [Marion Crawford] had +met Oscar Wilde the evening before at Dr. Chadwick's; +said that he expressed a desire to make my acquaintance. +Wrote before I went to church to invite him to +lunch. He accepted and Maud and Frank, or rather +Marion, flew about to get together friends and viands. +Returning from a lifting and delightful sermon of +J. F. C.'s, I met Maud at the door. She cried: 'Oscar +is coming.' Mrs. Jack Gardner, Madame Braggiotti, +and Julia completed our lunch party. Perhaps ten or +twelve friends came after lunch. We had what I might +call a 'lovely toss-up,' <i>i.e.</i>, a social dish quickly compounded +and tossed up like an omelet."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71b" id="Page_71b">[71]</a></span>During this year and the next, Crawford made his +home at 241 Beacon Street. Here he wrote his first +three books, "Mr. Isaacs," "Dr. Claudius," and "A +Roman Singer." He was a delightful inmate, and the +months he spent under our mother's roof were happy +ones. A tender <i>camaraderie</i> existed between aunt +and nephew. During his first winter in Boston he +thought of going on the stage as a singer, and studied +singing with Georg Henschel. He had a fine voice, a +dramatic manner, full of fire, but an imperfect ear. +This fault Henschel at first thought could be remedied: +for months they labored together, trying to overcome +it. Crawford delighted in singing, and "Auntie" in +playing his accompaniments. At dusk the two would +repair to the old Chickering grand to make music—Schubert, +Brahms, and arias from the oratorios they +both loved. In the evening the three guitars would be +brought out, and aunt and nephew, with Maud or +Brother Harry, would sing and play German students' +songs, or the folk-songs of Italy, Ireland, and Scotland. +Our mother was sure to be asked for Matthias Claudius's +"<i>Als Noah aus dem Kasten war</i>": Crawford would +respond with "<i>Im schwarzen Wallfisch zu Ascalon</i>."</p> + +<p>This was the first of thirty happy years passed at +241 Beacon Street, the house Uncle Sam bought for +her. The day she moved in, a friend asked her the +number of her new house.</p> + +<p>"241," she answered. "You can remember it because +I'm the two-forty one."</p> + +<p>Oscar Wilde was at this time making a lecture tour +through the United States. This was the heyday of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72b" id="Page_72b">[72]</a></span> +his popularity; he had been heralded as the apostle +of the æsthetic movement. At his first lecture, given +at the old Boston Music Hall, he appeared in a black +velvet court suit with ruffles, and black silk stockings, +his hair long and curling on his shoulders. A few moments +after he had taken his place on the platform, a +string of Harvard students filed into the hall, dressed +in caricature of the lecturer's costume, each with a sunflower +in his coat and a peacock feather in his hand. +Our mother, who was in the audience, recognized near +the head of the procession her favorite grand-nephew, +Winthrop Chanler. Wilde took this interruption in +good part, welcoming the lads and turning the laugh +against them. "Imitation is the sincerest flattery," +he said, "though this is a case where I might say, +'Save me from my friends.'"</p> + +<p>Wilde came several times to the house in Boston; +later Uncle Sam brought him to spend a day or two +at Oak Glen, where the household was thrown into a +flutter by the advent of his valet. It was one thing to +entertain the æsthete, another to put up the gentleman's +gentleman. In spite of all the affectation of +the æsthetic pose, Wilde proved a rarely entertaining +guest. He talked amazingly well; in that company +all that was best in the man came to the surface. +He recited his noble poem, "The Ode to Albion," +under the trees of Oak Glen, and told endless stories +of Swinburne, Whistler, and other celebrities of the +day. The dreadful tragedy came later; at this time +he was one of the most brilliant figures in the literary +world.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73b" id="Page_73b">[73]</a></span>"<i>March 4.</i> To Saturday Morning Club with Mrs. +[John] Sherwood; very busy; then with her to Blind +Asylum in a carriage. Drove up to front entrance and +alighted, when the gale took me off my feet and threw +me down, spraining my left knee so badly as to render +me quite helpless. I managed to hobble into the Institution +and to get through Julia's lunch, after which I +was driven home. Sent for Dr. Beach and was convicted +of a bad sprain, and sentenced to six weeks of +(solitary) confinement."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 5.</i> In bed all day."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 6.</i> On the lounge; able to work."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 8.</i> Day of mid-year conference of A.A.W. +Business meeting at the N.E.W.C., where I, of course, +could not be present. Afternoon meeting was in my +room. On the whole satisfactory."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">241 Beacon Street</span>,<br /> + +March 18, 1882. +</div> + +<p>Whereupon, my dearest, let there be no further +pribbles and prabbles, which I conjugate thus: I pribble, +thou prabblest, he, she, or it pribble prabbles. +Maud leaveth on a Tuesday, come thou on that same +Tuesday, taking care to keep thy nose in front of thy +countenance, and not otherwisely, which were neither +wisely nor too well. I hope thou wilt not fail to come +on Tuesday. And pray don't forget the baby, as the +nurse might find it lonesome to be here without her. +During the period of thy visit, I will change my name +to <i>Jinkins</i>, we will have such high Jinks!... Beacon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74b" id="Page_74b">[74]</a></span> +Street looks as though it wanted something. I think +thou beest it....</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Am ever thy lame game <span class="smcap">Mother</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>March 24.</i> Longfellow died at about 3.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> to-day. +He will be much and deservedly lamented. The +last of dear Chev's old set, the Five of Clubs, nicknamed +by Mary Dwight the 'Mutual Admiration +Society.' On hearing of this event, I put off my reception +for the Zuñi chiefs, which should have been on +Monday, when the funeral will probably take place."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 26.</i> Dear Brother Sam came on very unexpectedly +to attend the funeral service held at the +Longfellow [house] for relatives and intimates. I also +was bidden to this, but thought it impossible for me +to go, lame as I am. Sent word out to Julia Anagnos, +who came in, and went in my place with Uncle Sam. +The dear old fellow dined with us. I got downstairs +with great difficulty and fatigue. We had a delightful +evening with him, but he would go back to New York +by the night train."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 30.</i> To-day the Zuñi chiefs and Mr. Cushing, +their interpreter and adopted son, came to luncheon +at 1.45. There were twelve Indian chiefs in full +Indian dress. Reception afterwards."</p> + + +<p><br />The Zuñi Indians live in Arizona. Once in the year +they make a pilgrimage to the seashore, and wading +into the ocean at sunrise, offer prayer to the Great +Spirit, and fill their vessels of woven grass with water +to be used through the year in their religious exercises.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75b" id="Page_75b">[75]</a></span> +This pilgrimage had always been made to the Pacific; +but in the hearts of the tribe lingered a tradition that +once in a hundred years the "Water of Sunrise" should +be visited, and they dreamed of the Eastern ocean. The +tradition was now confirmed, the dream fulfilled, +through the friendly offices of Mr. Cushing.</p> + +<p>The ceremony was one of touching interest; hundreds +of people gathered at City Point to watch it. +Most of the spectators felt the beauty and solemnity +of the service (for such it was), but a few were inclined +to jeer, till they were sternly rebuked by Phillips +Brooks.</p> + +<p>As our mother could not go to see the Zuñis, they +must come to see her, and Mr. Cushing gladly brought +them. They were grave, stalwart men, with a beautiful +dignity of carriage and demeanor. A picture not to +be forgotten is that of her in her white dress, bending +eagerly forward to listen while the chiefs, sitting in a +circle on the floor, told stories, Mr. Cushing interpreting +for her benefit. At parting, each man took her +hand, and raised it to his forehead with a gesture of +perfect grace. The eldest chief, before this salute, held +her hand a moment, and blew across the palm, east +and west. "Daughter," he said, "our paths have +crossed here. May yours be bright hereafter!"</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>April 1.</i> To-day Edward [Everett] Hale brought +me a parting memento of the Zuñis—the basket with +which they had dipped up the water from the 'ocean +of sunrise.' Mr. Cushing sent this. E. E. H. also spoke +about five hymns which should be written corresponding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76b" id="Page_76b">[76]</a></span> +to the five great hymns of the Catholic mass. He +asked me to write one of these and I promised to +try."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 16.</i> Splint off to-day. Waited for Dr. Beach, +so could not go to church. Had an interesting talk with +the Doctor on the Immortality of the Soul, in which +he is a believer."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 27.</i> Made to-day a good start in writing +about Margaret Fuller. This night at 8.50 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> died +Ralph Waldo Emerson, <i>i.e.</i>, all of him that could die. +I think of him as a father gone—father of so much +beauty, of so much modern thought."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 7.</i> To church, going out for the first time +without a crutch, using only my cane.</p> + +<p>"J. F. C.'s sermon was about Emerson, and was +very interesting and delicately appreciative. I think +that he exaggerated Emerson's solid and practical +effect in the promotion of modern liberalism. The +change was in the air and was to come. It was in many +minds quite independently of Mr. Emerson. He was +the foremost literary man of his day in America, philosopher, +poet, reformer, all in one. But he did not +make his age, which was an age of great men and of +great things."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 14.</i> Had a sudden thought in church of a +minister preaching in a pulpit and a fiend waiting +to carry him off to hell. Made some verses out of +this.</p> + +<p>"This is Whitsunday.... I do hope and pray for +a fresh outpouring this year. While I listened to Dr. +Furness, two points grew clear to me: one was, that I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77b" id="Page_77b">[77]</a></span> +would hold my Peace Meeting, if I should hold it alone, +as a priest sometimes serves his mass. The second was, +that I could preach from the text: 'As ye have borne +the image of the earthy, so shall ye bear the image of +the heavenly,' and this sermon I think I could preach +to the prisoners, as I once tried to do years ago when +dear Chev found the idea so intolerable that I had to +give it up. I am twenty years older now, and the +Woman Ministry is a recognized fact.</p> + +<p>"Still Sunday afternoon. I am now full of courage +for this week's heavy work."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 30.</i> Alas! alas! dear Professor Rogers dropped +dead to-day after some exercise at the Institute of +Technology. How he had helped me in the Town and +Country Club! Without his aid and that of his wife, I +doubt whether I could have started it at all: he was +always vice-president as I was president. I cannot +think how I can do without him."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 22.</i> Commemoration of Mr. Emerson at Concord +Town Hall. Several portraits of him and very +effective floral decorations; no music. Prayer by Rev. +Dr. Holland; introductory remarks by F. B. Sanborn +in which he quoted a good part of a poem by W. E. +Channing, R. W. E. its theme. Then came an unmercifully +long paper by Dr. X., much of which was +interesting and some of which was irrelevant. He insisted +upon Mr. Emerson's having been an evolutionist, +and unfolded a good deal of his own tablecloth +along with the mortuary napkin."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 29.</i> Had a studious and quiet day. Was in +good time for the performance [at the Casino]...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78b" id="Page_78b">[78]</a></span>In a letter to "Uncle Sam" she speaks of "the labor +and fatigue of preparing for the theatricals, which are +happily over. We had rehearsals every day last week. +My part was a short one, but I took great pains to +make it as good as I could. Some points which I +thought of on the spur of the moment added greatly +to the fun of the impersonation. We had a fine +house, and an enthusiastic reception. I had a floral +tribute—only think of it!—a basket of beautiful +roses...."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 18.</i> Left Newport to attend Saratoga +Convention, being appointed a delegate from the +Channing Memorial Church, with its pastor, Reverend +C. W. Wendte."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 8.</i> Cousin Nancy Greene, my father's +cousin, enters to-day upon her ninety-ninth year. I +called to see her, going first to town to buy her some +little gift.... Had a very interesting talk with her. +She was nicely dressed in black, with a fresh cap and +lilac ribbon, and a little silk handkerchief. For her +this was quite an unusual toilette. I wished her a good +year to come, but she said: 'Why should I want to live +another year? I can do nothing.' I suggested that +she should dictate her reminiscences to the girl who +waits upon her and who writes, she says, a good hand."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 11.</i> I went to see the old Seventh Day +Baptist Church, now occupied by the Newport Historical +Society, in which my great-grandfather, Governor +Samuel Ward, used to attend service...."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 24, Boston.</i> Spoke at the Home for Intemperate +Women at 6 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> I did my best. Text: +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79b" id="Page_79b">[79]</a></span>'Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth are +named.' Subject: The Christian family; God, its +father, all mankind brothers and sisters.... Afterwards +went to the Christmas 'Messiah.' Felt more +sure than ever that no music so beautiful as this has +ever been written."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80b" id="Page_80b">[80]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>241 BEACON STREET: THE NEW ORLEANS EXPOSITION</h3> + +<h4>1883-1885; <i>aet.</i> 64-66</h4> + +<p> +The full outpouring of power that stops at no frontier,<br /> +But follows <i>I would</i> with <i>I can</i>, and <i>I can</i> with <i>I do it</i>!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><br />The winter of 1882-83 found her once more with a +family of some size, her son and his wife joining forces +with her at 241 Beacon Street. In Harry's college +days, mother and son had made much music together; +now the old music books were unearthed, and the +house resounded with the melodies of Rossini and +Handel. It was a gay household, with Crawford living +in the reception room on the ground floor; play +was the order of the evening, as work was of the day.</p> + +<p>The new inmates brought new friends to the circle, +men of science, the colleagues of her beloved "Bunko," +now Professor Howe of the Institute of Technology, +Italians, and other Europeans introduced by Crawford. +There was need of these new friends, for old +ones were growing fewer. Side by side in the Journal +with the mention of this one or that comes more and +more frequently the record of the passing of some dear +companion on life's journey. Those who were left of +the great band that made New England glorious in +the nineteenth century held closely to each other, and +the bond between them had a touching significance. +Across the street lived Oliver Wendell Holmes; in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81b" id="Page_81b">[81]</a></span> +Cambridge was Thomas Wentworth Higginson; in +Dorchester, Edward Everett Hale.</p> + +<p>In a letter to her brother she speaks of "the constant +'tear and trot' of my Boston life, in which I +try to make all ends meet, domestic, social, artistic, +and reformatory, and go about, I sometimes think, +like a poor spider who spins no web.... Marion +has been very industrious, and is full of good work and +of cheer. His book ["Mr. Isaacs"] has been such a +success as to give him at once a recognized position, +of which the best feature, economically, is that it +enables him to command adequate and congenial +employment at fairly remunerative prices...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><p> +<span class="smcap">My darling Child</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>Your letter makes me say that I don't know anything, +whether I have written or not, or ought to +write, or not. Mammy's poor old head is very much +worse than ever, and I don't get time even to read +letters, some days. I can't tell why, except that there +are many points and people to be reached, in one way +and another, and I rush hither and thither, accomplishing, +I fear, very little, but stirring many stews +with my own spoon. It seems to me that I could not +bear another winter of this stress and strain, which is +difficult to analyze or account for, as "she needn't +have done it, you know." Why she must do it, notwithstanding, +is hard to tell, or what it is in doing it +which so exhausts all nervous energy and muscular +strength. Now, darling, after this prelude in a minor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82b" id="Page_82b">[82]</a></span> +key, let me thank heaven that, after all, I am well in +health, and comfortable.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday, 10th, 2.20</i> <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> I wrote the above at +noon, yesterday, expecting Salvini to lunch.... Mrs. +Appleton came in, and kept me, until 2 minus 20 +minutes, at which time, nearly beside myself with +anxiety, I tumbled upstairs, out of one garment and +into another. Such was my dressing. Salvini came +and was charming. After luncheon came a reception. +Your little girls were there, looking delightfully. Porter +was pleased to say that the little ones, hanging +around the (old) grandmother made a pleasing picture.... +No more from 'fection</p> + +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Mar.</span> +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />In later January she has "a peaceful day at Vassar +College.... In the afternoon met the teachers and +read some poems, to wit, all of the Egyptian ones, and +the poem on the Vestal dug up in Rome. At bedtime +last night I had a thought of ghosts. I spoke of this +to Maria Mitchell to-day. She told me that Mr. Matthew +Vassar's body had been laid in this room and +those of various persons since, which, had I known, +I had been less comfortable than I was."</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>February 18.</i> Young Salvini [Alessandro] and Ventura +to luncheon, also Lizzie Boott and Mrs. Jack +[Gardner]. Salvini is beautiful to look at, having +a finely chiselled Greek head. He is frank, cordial, +and intelligent, and speaks very appreciatively of his +parts, especially of Romeo."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83b" id="Page_83b">[83]</a></span>"To the Intemperate Women's Home where I spoke +from the text, 'Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is +at hand.'"</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +March 17, 1883. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Darling Child</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>Just let drop everything, and take me up on your +lap. I'se very tired, writing, tugging at all sorts of +things. Long silence b'tween us. Growing estrangement, +eh? Richardses are better, eh? Which nobody +can deny.... Have been hard at work upon a memoir +of Maria Mitchell, which is well-nigh finished.... +Am spleeny to-day: the weather being according....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To "Uncle Sam"</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +March 28, 1883. +</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">My darling Brother</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>I owe you two good long letters, and am ashamed +to think how long it is since you have seen my crabbed +chirography. Of course, it is the old story. I have +been dreadfully busy with all sorts of work, in all of +which I take delight, while yet to quote St. Paul, "The +good that I would I do not." To give you a few items, +I have just finished a short memoir of Maria Mitchell, +Professor of Astronomy at Vassar College. This was +an interesting task, but had to be very carefully done. +At the same time, I had to correct Maud's memoir of +me, which is to be published in the same collection of +biographies of <i>eminent</i> women! I think I am eminent +for undertaking ten times more than I can do, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84b" id="Page_84b">[84]</a></span> +doing about one tenth of it. Well—I have given +three Sunday preachments at a sort of Woman's +church which they have here. My themes were: "The +Order of the Natural and the Spiritual," "Tares and +Wheat," and "The Power of Religion in the Life." I +was in New York last Wednesday, to preside over the +mid-year Conference of the Woman's Congress.... +I had a visit from Salvini the other day. He was most +charming, and sent me a box for last evening's performance +of "The Outlaw," in Italian: "Morte Civile." +I went, with my Harry and Laura, I in my best attire. +I had received some very beautiful roses, which I threw +upon the stage, at the recall after the third Act. To-day +I met Wendell Phillips in the street, and made him +come in to see Marion, whose letter on English rule +in India, printed in the New York "Tribune," he had +liked very much. Phillips asked me how I came to +live in this part of the city, and I told him about your +gift of the house.... Marion is sitting by my fire, +with Browning's "Jocoseria" in his hands, from which +he has been reading passages. It sounds strange and +silly....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, May 10, 1883. +</div> + +<p>... —I have been here alone all these days, with +many gentle ghosts of past companionship, and with +a task at which I work steadily every day. This is +a life of Margaret Fuller, rewritten mostly from the +memoirs already published, but also recast in my +own thought. The publisher is in a hurry for it, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85b" id="Page_85b">[85]</a></span> +I have to work without intermission, <i>i.e.</i>, as long as +I can, every day; but with all the diligence in my +power, I cannot get along very rapidly. When I have +finished my stint, I refresh myself with a little Greek, +and also with an Italian novel which I have brought +with me. The place looks lovely, and I sat, this afternoon, +on the western piazza, near that angle where +you and I used to sit, last summer, and enjoyed a bath +of sunshine....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, August 21, 1883. +</div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">My Much Neglected Darling</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>I give you to-day my first hour, or half-hour, as the +case may be, feeling that my long silence has been +abominable, and must be broken, even if you should +feel it to be your duty to throw an inkstand at my +head, in return for my letter. It is partly Backbone's +fault. Backbone has been so scrouged and put upon +by the summer's work that he sometimes cuts up +amazing. Said work is pretty well out of hand at this +moment, the last chapters of "Margaret Fuller" being +ready for the press.... I have so much felt the +shocking uncharity of things in the way of diaries and +letters which have been published within the last few +years. Not the least bad exhibition in this kind has +been made by Carlyle and his wife. I have just finished +reading the three volumes of her letters and +memorials, which were indeed interesting to me by the +mention in them of persons whom I myself have +known. Still, the spirit of the book is painful. It is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86b" id="Page_86b">[86]</a></span> +sad to see how she adopted, at times, her husband's +harsh creed. I should think Froude, the editor, must +be wanting in common taste and decency, to have +allowed the letters to appear in all this crudeness. I +am so glad that I never went near them, after that one +tea-drink, a very bad one, forty years ago. Is this +enough about the Carlyles? And is it strictly charitable? +I dunno; I'm getting very old to know anything....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The "Life of Margaret Fuller" (in Roberts Brothers' +series of "Famous Women") was a small book, yet +it stood for much careful work, and was so recognized +and received. The recognition sometimes took a singular +form, <i>e.g.</i>, a letter from a gentleman styling himself +"Prof. Nat. & Geol.," who desires two copies of +the "Margaret Fuller," and asks her to "accept for +them a choice selection of '<i>Lithological</i>,' Cabinet of +Geological Mineral specimens, representing the Glacial, +and Emptus period, also the Crystalline formation +of the Earth's Strata, in Coolings, Rubbings, and +Scratchings of the Drift Age."</p> + +<p>The exchange was not effected.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To "Uncle Sam"</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +December 15, 1883. +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">Darling Bro' Sam</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>I must write you at once, or my silence will expand +into a broad ocean which I shall be afraid to cross.... +I have had a very laborious year, now screwed to +my desk, and working at <i>timed</i> tasks, now travelling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87b" id="Page_87b">[87]</a></span> +widely, and scattering my spoken words.... Well, +so much for desk-work, now for the witch broomstick +on which I fly. The Congress was held in Chicago, +in mid-October. From this place, I went to Minneapolis.... +Harry and his wife are here, paying handsomely +their share of our running expenses. The little +house looks friendly and comfortable, and I hope, +after a few more flights, to enjoy it very much. These +will now be very short.... Boston is all alive with +Irving's acting, Matthew Arnold's lectures, Cable's +readings, and the coming opera. <i>Père</i> Hyacinthe also +has been here, and a very eminent Hindoo, named +Mozumdar. I have lost many of these doings by my +journeys, but heard Arnold's lecture on Emerson last +evening. I have also heard one of Cable's readings. +Arnold does not in the least understand Emerson, I +think. He has a positive, square-jawed English mind, +with no super-sensible <i>aperçûs</i>. His elocution is pitiable, +and when, after his lecture, Wendell Phillips +stepped forward and said a few graceful words of farewell +to him, it was like the Rose complimenting the +Cabbage....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The year 1883 closed with a climax of triumphant +fatigue in the Merchants' and Mechanics' Fair, in +which she was president of the Woman's Department. +This was to lead to a far more serious undertaking in +the autumn of 1884, that of the Woman's Department +of the New Orleans Exposition. The Journal may +bridge the interval between the two.</p> + +<p>"<i>February 3, 1884.</i> Wendell Phillips is dead.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88b" id="Page_88b">[88]</a></span>"To speak at the meeting in memory of Cheshub +Chunder Sen at Parker Memorial Hall. Heard T. W. +Higginson and Mrs. Cheney. H. spoke at length of +Phillips and said too much about his later mistakes, +I thought, saying nothing about his suffrage work, +of which I took care to speak, when it was my turn. +Several persons thanked me for my words, which +treated very briefly of Phillips's splendid services to +humanity."</p> + +<p>[She spoke of him as "the most finished orator of our +time," and as "the Chrysostom of modern reform."]</p> + +<p>"<i>February 6.</i> Wendell Phillips's funeral. I am invited +to attend memorial services at Faneuil Hall on +Friday evening. I accept."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 9....</i> I was very glad that I had come +to this, the People's meeting, and had been able to +be heard in Faneuil Hall, the place of all others where +the <i>People</i> should commemorate Wendell Phillips. +My task was to speak of his services to the cause of +Woman. Others spoke of him in connection with +Labor Reform, Anti-Slavery, Ireland, and Temperance."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><p>Just so, knowed you'd take advantage of my silence +to write su'thin saucy. Until I got your kammunikation +I felt kind o' penitent like—hadn't +thanked for no Xmas nor nothing. Felt self to be +shabby and piglike in conduct, though perfectly +angelic in intention. Pop comes your letter—pop +goes my repentance. "She's got even with me," I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89b" id="Page_89b">[89]</a></span> +said: "If she went into a tailor's shop to get a cabbage +leaf, to make an apple pie, what does it matter +by what initials she calls herself? Who's going to distress +themselves about the set of her cloak? And she +do boast about it preposterous, and that are a fact."</p> + +<p>Here endeth the first meditation, and I will now fall +back upon the "Dearly beloved," for the rest of the +service....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">241 Beacon Street</span>, February 11, 1884. +</div> + +<p><i>Oh, thou, who art not quite a Satan!</i></p> + +<p>Question is, dost thou not come very near it?...</p> + +<p>I have been very busy, and have <i>orated</i> tremendous, +this winter. I didn't go for to do it, you know, but I +cou'n' avoin it. [A household expression, dating back +to her childhood, when a gentleman with a defect +of speech, speaking of some trouble incurred by her +father, said, "Poor Mr. Warn! he cou'n' avoin it!" +This gentleman was a clergyman, and was once +heard to assure his congregation that "their hens +[heads] wou'n be crownen with glory!"]</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>February 12.</i> Hearing at State House, Committee +of Probate, etc., on the petition of Julia Ward Howe +and others that the laws concerning married women +may be amended in three respects. We had prepared +three separate bills, one providing that the mother +shall have equal rights with the father in their children, +especially in determining their residence and their +education. A second ruling that on the wife's death, +the husband, who now gets all her real estate, may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90b" id="Page_90b">[90]</a></span> +have one half, and the children the other, and that +the widow shall have the same right to half the husband's +real estate after his death. A third bill was +devised to enable husband and wife to contract valid +money obligations toward each other."</p> + + +<p><br />Through the untiring efforts of the Suffragists these +bills were all passed.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>March 27....</i> I heard with dismay of the injury +done to my Newport place by the breaking of Norman's +dam. Was very much troubled about this."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +March 29, 1884. +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Darling</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>Dunno why I hain't wrote you, 'cept that, while I +was lame, the attitude of reclining with my foot extended +was very fatiguing to me. The injury was very +slight. I only knocked my left foot pretty hard (<i>anglicé</i>, +stubbed my toe) hurrying upstairs, but the weak +left knee gave way, and turned, letting me down, and +feloniously puffing itself up, which Charity never does. +It could not be concealed from Maud, and so Beach +was sent for, and a fortnight of <i>stay still</i> ordered and +enforced. On Tuesday last I broke bounds and railed +it to Buffalo, New York, with my crutches, which +were no longer needed. This was for the mid-year +Conference of our Congress. Before I say more under +this head, let me tell you that I returned from Buffalo +this morning, much the better for my trip. I had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91b" id="Page_91b">[91]</a></span> +lovely visit there, in a most friendly and comfortable +house, with carriages at my disposition. A beautiful +luncheon was given to us Congressers and I gave a +lecture on Thursday evening, price $50, and sat in a +high chair, thinking it not prudent to stand so long....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>April 4.</i> In the latter part of the eighteenth century +a Christian missionary, Chinese, but disguised +as a Portuguese, penetrated into Corea, and was much +aided in his work by the courageous piety of Columba +Kang, wife of one of the lesser nobles. She and the +missionary suffered torture and death.... Merchants, +not diplomatists, are the true apostles of civilization.</p> + +<p>"Questions for A.A.W. [<i>i.e.</i>, for the annual Conference +of the Association for the Advancement of +Women]: How far does the business of this country +fulfil the conditions of honest and honorable traffic?</p> + +<p>"What is the ideal of a mercantile aristocracy?"</p> + +<p>"<i>April 7.</i> General Armstrong called last evening. +He spoke of the negroes as individually quick-witted +and capable, but powerless in association and deficient +in organizing power. This struck me as the natural +consequence of their long subjection to despotic power. +The exigencies of slavery quickened their individual +perceptions, and sharpened their wits, but left them +little opportunity for concerted action. Freedom allows +men to learn how to coöperate widely and strongly for +ends of mutual good. Despotism heightens personal +consciousness through fear of danger, but itself fears +nothing so much as association among men, which it +first prohibits and in time renders impossible."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92b" id="Page_92b">[92]</a></span>"<i>April 15.</i> A delightful Easter. I felt this day that, +in my difficulties with the Anti-Suffragists, the general +spread of Christian feeling gives me ground to +stand upon. The charity of Christendom will not +persist in calumniating the Suffragists, nor will its +sense of justice long refuse to admit their claims."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 17.</i> Sam Eliot was in a horse-car, and told +me that Tom Appleton had died of pneumonia in New +York. The last time I spoke with him was in one of +these very cars. He asked me if I had been to the +funeral, meaning that of Wendell Phillips. I was sure +that he had been much impressed by it. I saw him +once more, on Commonwealth Avenue on a bitter day. +He walked feebly and was much bent. I did not stop +to speak with him which I now regret. He was very +friendly to me, yet the sight of me seemed to rouse +some curious vein of combativeness in him. He had +many precious qualities, and had high views of character, +although he was sometimes unjust in his judgments +of other people, particularly of the come-outer +reformers."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 19.</i> To get some flowers to take to T. G. +A.'s house. Saw him lying placid in his coffin, robed +in soft white cashmere, with his palette and brushes +in his hands...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Florence</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +April 20, 1884. +</div> + +<p>... I went yesterday to poor Tom Appleton's funeral. +It is very sad to lose him, and every one says +that a great piece of the old Boston goes with him....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93b" id="Page_93b">[93]</a></span> +I dined with George William Curtis yesterday at Mrs. +Harry Williams's. George William was one of Tom +Appleton's pall-bearers,—so were Dr. Holmes and +Mr. Winthrop....</p> + +<p>Curtis's oration on Wendell Phillips was very fine.</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>April 20.</i> Thought sadly of errors and shortcomings. +At church a penitential psalm helped me much, +and the sermon more. I felt assured that, whatever +may be my fate beyond this life, I should always +seek, love, and rejoice in the good. Thus, even in +hell, one might share by sympathy the heavenly +victory."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 5.</i> I begin in great infirmity of spirit a week +which brings many tasks. First, I must proceed in the +matter of Norman's injury to my estate, either to a +suit or a settlement by arbitration unless I can previously +come to an understanding with N."</p> + + +<p><br />A heavy affliction was soon to drive all other +thoughts from her mind. On May 19, a telegram +arrived from Italy saying, "Samuel Ward expired +peacefully."</p> + +<p>She writes: "Nothing could be more unexpected +than this blow. Dear Bro' Sam had long since been +pronounced out of danger.... Latterly we have +heard of him as feeble, and have felt renewed anxiety, +but were entirely unprepared for his death."</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 20.</i> Dark days of nothingness these, to-day +and yesterday. Nothing to do but be patient and +explore the past."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94b" id="Page_94b">[94]</a></span>"<i>May 21.</i> Had a sitting all alone with dear Uncle +Sam's picture this afternoon. I thought it might be +the time of his funeral. I read the beautiful 90th +Psalm and a number of his bright, sweet lyrics. A +sympathetic visit from Winthrop Chanler."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 27....</i> Dear Brother Sam's death has +brought me well in sight of the farther shore. May I +be ready when it is my turn to cross."</p> + + +<blockquote><p class="center"><i>To her sister Louisa</i></p> + +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Dearest Sister</span>,— +</div> + +<p>I was already in debt to you for one good letter +when this later one arrived, giving me the full, desired +particulars of our dear one's last days on earth. You +and Annie both write as though the loss were heaviest +to me, and I only feel that I cannot feel it half +enough. The pathos of a life of such wonderful vicissitudes! +I cannot half take it in. What must he not +have suffered in those lonely days of wandering and +privation, while I was comfortable in my household!... +God knows, I had every reason to love him, for +he was heroically faithful to his affection for me. +Now, I feel how little I appreciated his devotion, +and how many chimeras, in my foolish wool-gathering +head, crowded upon this most precious affection, which +was worthy of a much larger place in my thoughts. +His death is a severe loss to Maud and me.... We +were always hoping to rejoin him, and to pass some +happy years with him. A great object is withdrawn +from our two lives. Nothing can take his place to +either of us.... As I write, the tears come. Like you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95b" id="Page_95b">[95]</a></span> +I long to sit and talk it all over with the two who are +all I have left of my own generation. To our children, +the event cannot be at all what it is to us. They are +made for the future, and our day is not theirs. I was +comforted, in your first letter, in reading of that +pleasant, quiet talk you had with him, when, among +other things, you read to him the lovely verses from +St. John's Gospel, which have become a classic of +consolation among Christian people. I believe that +he is in the heaven accorded to those who have loved +their fellow-men, for who ever coined pure kindness +into acts as he did? One of the lessons I learn from his +life is that it is very hard for us to judge rightly the +merits and demerits of others. Here was a man with +many faults on the surface, and a heart of pure gold +beneath.... The thought of his lonely funeral and +solitary grave has wrung my heart at times, but sometimes +I think of it as a place where one might be glad +to be at rest.... But now, dear, I have had all the +heart-break I can bear, writing this letter. Let me +now speak of the living and tell you where and how +we are.... I left very unwillingly to come down +here, and try to get my poor wrecked place in order. +You know, of course, that the dam which was built +to cut off my water, and against which I obtained an +injunction, burst this spring, and destroyed my two +ponds, my carriage, and a good part of my barn. I +have tried, in a lumbering way, to get justice, but have +not yet succeeded. I have had, too, a great deal of +trouble in my presidency of the Woman's Congress, +this year. Almost as soon as I open my eyes in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96b" id="Page_96b">[96]</a></span> +morning, these black dogs of worry spring upon me. +I long to be free from them....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>June 28.</i> Senator Bayard to William A. Duncan +about dear Bro' Sam: 'It is just one of those little +kindnesses of which his life was so full. There is no +doubt, as you say, that his later years were his best! +The wine of life fined itself.... He was readily sympathetic, +and did in Rome as Romans did, and kept +time and tune to a great variety of instruments. But +the kind good heart <i>always beat truly</i>, and the array +of good deeds to his credit in the great book of account +is delightful to think of.'"</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Newport</span>, August 15, 1884. +</div> + +<p>Haven't I written to you? I have an idea of some +long letter of mine not answered by you. But this +may be one of those imaginary good actions which +help to puff me up. Life, you see, gallops on to such +a degree with me that I don't know much difference +between what I have intended to do and what I have +done....</p> + +<p>I think novels is humbug. What you think? They +don't leave you anything but a sort of bad taste....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>August 27.</i> Simply good for nothing, but to amuse +the little Hall children. A strange dead level of indifference. +Do not see any difference between one +thing and another. This, I should think, must come +from a vagary of the liver. Worst sort of nervous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97b" id="Page_97b">[97]</a></span> +prostration—to prostrate one's self before one's nerves. +To town in the afternoon, when the dead indifference +and lassitude went off somewhat."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 29.</i> We dined at the Booths' to-day, meeting +Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Jefferson and William Warren. +A rare and delightful occasion. Jefferson talked +much about art. He, Booth, and Warren all told +little anecdotes of forgetfulness on the stage. Jefferson +had told a love-story twice, Booth had twice given +the advice to the players [in "Hamlet"], Warren, in +'Our American Cousin,' should have tried to light a +match which would not light. He inadvertently turned +the ignitable side, which took fire, and so disconcerted +him that he forgot where he was in the play and had to +ask some one what he had last said, which being told +him enabled him to go on."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 25.</i> Finished to-day my Congress paper. +I have written this paper this week instead of going +to the Unitarian Convention, which I wished much +to attend.... I did not go because I thought I ought +neither to leave home unnecessarily, to spend so much +money, nor to put off the writing of the A.A.W. +paper.</p> + +<p>"I shall look a little to see whether circumstances +hereafter will not show that it was best for me to follow +this course. My Dæmon did not say 'go,' but he +sometimes plays me false. I have certainly had the +most wonderful ease in writing this paper which, I +thought, would occupy a number of weary days, and +lo! it has all written itself, <i>currente calamo</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 5.</i> Is the law of progress one of harmony<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98b" id="Page_98b">[98]</a></span> +or of discord? Do the various kinds of progress, moral, +intellectual, political, and economic or industrial, +agree or disagree? Do they help or hinder each +other?"</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Newport, Rhode Island</span>, October 9, 1884. +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">My darling Laura</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>My poor wits, in these days, are like bits of sewing +silk wound on a card. You unwind a little and straightway +come to an end. The wonder is, there are so +many ends. Here is a precise picture of our days as +passed at present. Morning, I wake early, lie and +think over my past life, with little satisfaction. +Bathe. Breakfast. Walk with Maud, Sonny<a name="FNanchor_95_95" id="FNanchor_95_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a> tugging +alongside. Maud goes much further than I do. +Sonny and I return, take a basket and gather dry +twigs to brighten the evening fire. I visit my mare in +her stable—a good custom, as my man is not over-careful +of her stall. Maud comes back, I <i>exercise</i> her +voice. I go to books, she to desk. Study Greek a good +deal, reading Thucydides and Aristophanes. Dinner, +coffee, more reading and writing, unless we go to +town. Evening, music, reading or cards, worrying +about ——, bed. I have not mentioned my own much +writing, because you will understand it. I am trying +to compass a story, but have my fears about it. My +paper for the Woman's Congress is entitled "How to +broaden the Views of Society Women." Darling dear, +what more can I tell you? Isn't this too much already?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99b" id="Page_99b">[99]</a></span> +Now, do spunk up and have some style about +you.... Be cheerful and resolute, my love, life comes +but once, and is soon over....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>October 13.</i> To New Bedford, for the Suffrage +meeting; trains did not connect at Myricks, where, +after some delay and negotiation, I with difficulty persuaded +the conductor of a freight train to take me to +New Bedford in his caboose. This saved me time +enough to go to the Delano Mansion, restore my +strength with food, and put on my cap and ruche. The +Delanos were very kind. I read my Congress paper on +'Benefits of Suffrage to Women.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>November 23.</i> To Louisburg Square to my old +friend's funeral [Hamilton Wilde].... Around and +before me were the friends and associates of the golden +time in which his delightful humor and <i>bonhomie</i> so +often helped me in charades and other high times. It +was ghostly—there were Lizzie Homans and Jerry +Abbott, who took part with him and William Hunt in +the wonderful charade in which the two artists rode a +tilt with theatre hobbies. The gray heads which I had +once seen black, brown, or blond, heightened the effect +of the picture. It was indeed a <i>sic transit</i>. I said to +Charles Perkins—'For some of us, it is the dressing +bell!' Oh! this mystery! So intense, so immense a +fact and force as human life, tapering to this little +point of a final leave-taking and brief remembrance!"</p> + + +<p><br />Now came the New Orleans Exposition, in which +she was to be chief of the Woman's Department.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100b" id="Page_100b">[100]</a></span>It was already late when she received the appointment, +but she lost no time. Establishing her headquarters +at No. 5 Park Street (for many years the +home of the "Woman's Journal" and the New England +Woman's Club), she sent out circulars to every +State in the Union, asking for exhibits, and appealed +to the editors of newspapers all over the country to +send women correspondents for a month or more to +the Exposition. She called meetings in Boston, New +York, Providence, Philadelphia, and Hartford, at all +of which she spoke, imploring the women to bestir +themselves, and, late as it was, to make an effort to get +together a proper showing of women's work for the +great Fair.</p> + +<p>Beside all this, she kept up through the autumn +an active correspondence with the Exposition authorities +at New Orleans.</p> + +<p>The Exposition was scheduled to open on the 1st +of December: it did actually open on the 16th. She +writes:—</p> + +<p>"A steamer had been chartered to convey thither +the officers of the Exposition and their invited guests. +Seated on the deck, the chief of the Woman's Department +and her fellow-workers watched the arrival of +the high dignitaries of the State and city, escorted by +members of the military, and by two bands of music; +one, the famous Mexican Band. All the craft on the +river were adorned with flags and streamers. The +Crescent, which gives the city its familiar designation, +was pointed out, and the 'Father of Waters' was +looked upon with admiring eyes. The steamer brought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101b" id="Page_101b">[101]</a></span> +us to the Exposition grounds, and here a procession +was formed in which the ladies of the Woman's Department +were assigned a place which they had some +difficulty in keeping. The march led to the Main Building. +The opening prayer was made by the Reverend +De Witt Talmage. At a given moment a telegram +was received from the President of the United States, +Chester A. Arthur, declaring the Exposition to be formally +open. Immediately after, the son of the Director-General, +a fine lad of twelve years, touched the electric +button by which the machinery of the Exposition +was set in motion.</p> + +<p>"Returning by land, we found the streets gay with +decorations, in which the colors of the orthodox flag +were conspicuous."</p> + +<p>Maud was with her, and shared her labors, as did +her devoted friend Isabel Greeley. At this time the +floor of the gallery destined for the women's exhibit +was not laid. By December 29 the officers of the department +were able to hold a meeting in "an enclosure +without doors or suitable furniture." When all was +supposed to be ready for the exhibits, it was found +that the roof leaked badly, the timber having so +shrunk under the action of the sun as to tear away the +waterproof felting. Moreover, there was not enough +money to carry on the business of the Department. +Funds had been promised by the Board of Management, +but these funds were not forthcoming, the Board +itself being in difficulties. Our mother had foreseen +this contingency.</p> + +<p>"Ladies," she said, "we must remember that women<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102b" id="Page_102b">[102]</a></span> +have sometimes built churches with no better instruments +than thimbles and a teapot! If the worst comes +to the worst, we must come before the public and +endeavor with its aid to earn the money necessary to +complete our enterprise."</p> + +<p>This foreboding soon became a fact, and early in +January she found herself in rather a "tight corner." +She had sent out the call for exhibits to every State +in the Union; with great effort the women of the +country had responded most generously. She now felt +herself personally responsible for these exhibits, and +determined that, <i>coûte que coûte</i>, they should be well +displayed and the Woman's Department properly installed.</p> + +<p>There was no money: very well! she would earn +some. She arranged a series of entertainments, beginning +with a lecture by herself. There followed a time of +great stress and anxiety, which taxed to the utmost +her mother-wit and power of invention. Faculties +hitherto dormant awoke to meet the task; she devised +practical, hard, common-sense methods, far removed +from her life habit of intellectual labor. She +had moved into a new apartment in the house of life, +one nearer the earth and not quite so near the stars. +She often quoted during these months Napoleon's saying, +on being told that something he wished to do was +impossible, "<i>Ne me dîtes pas ce bête de mot!</i>"</p> + +<p>In spite of endless vexations, it was a time of tremendous +enjoyment; every nerve was strained, every +gift exercised; the cup of life was brimming over, even +if it was not all filled with honey.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103b" id="Page_103b">[103]</a></span>"<i>January 13, 1885.</i> Preparing for my lecture this +evening. Subject, 'Is Polite Society Polite?' Place, +Werlein Hall. I was very anxious—the lecture appeared +to me very homely for a Southern audience +accustomed to rhetorical productions. My reception +was most gratifying. The house was packed and many +were sent away. Judge Gayarré introduced me. Joaquin +Miller came first, reciting his 'Fortunate Isles.' +I said in opening that even if my voice should not fill +the hall, my good-will embraced them all. Every point +in the lecture was perceived and applauded, and I felt +more than usually in sympathy with my audience."</p> + +<p>"The second entertainment devised for the relief +of the Woman's Department was a '<i>Soirée Créole</i>,' +the third and last a 'grand musical <i>matinée</i>' at the +French Opera House, for which we were indebted to +the great kindness of Colonel Mapleson, who granted +us the use of the house, and by whose permission several +of his most distinguished artists gave their services. +Monsignor Gillow, Commissioner for Mexico, +also allowed his band to perform."</p> + + +<p><br />The difficulty of persuading the different artists to +sing, of pacifying their separate agents in the matter +of place on the programme and size of the letters in +which names were advertised, of bringing harmony +out of all the petty rivalries and cabals between the +different members of the troupe, required a patience +worthy of a better cause. Meanwhile there were other +troubles. Most of the women commissioners appointed +by the different States proved loyal comrades to their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104b" id="Page_104b">[104]</a></span> +chief in her great and distressful labor; but there were +others who gave her endless trouble.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>February 6.</i> Our concert. The weather was favorable. +Lieutenant Doyle came to escort me to the +theatre. My box was made quite gay by the uniforms +of several navy officers. The house was packed. We +took $1500 and hope to have more. I particularly enjoyed +the <i>Semiramide</i> overture, which the band gave +grandly. Rossini's soul seemed to me to blossom out +of it like an immortal flower."</p> + + +<p><br />These entertainments brought in over two thousand +dollars. This money enabled the women to install such +exhibits as were ready, to pay for a time the necessary +workmen, and to engage a special police force for the +protection of their goods. The United States ships in +the harbor also espoused the cause, Admiral Jouett, +of the flagship Tennessee, and Captain Kane, of the +Galena, sending experienced craftsmen whose ready +and skilful work soon changed the somewhat desolate +aspect of the gallery.</p> + +<p>The arrangements were as simple as might be, the +greatest expense being the purchase of showcases. The +tables were of rough pine boards covered with cambrics +and flannels, the draperies of the simplest and +cheapest, the luxury of a carpet was enjoyed only here +and there; but the excellence of the exhibits, and the +taste with which they were displayed, made the department +a pleasant place. The winter was cold; the +wooden walls of the Government Building let in many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105b" id="Page_105b">[105]</a></span> +a chilling blast; but there was a stove in the office of +the chief of installation, and with its help the daily cup +of tea was made which kept the workers alive.</p> + +<p>Each State and Territory had a separate opening +day for its exhibit. These days were marked by public +meetings at which compliments were exchanged, +addresses made, and the exhibits turned over to the +management. It was considered obligatory for all +the commissioners to attend these meetings, and the +women spent many weary hours trying to hear the +addresses of distinguished individuals whose voices +contended in vain with the din of the machinery. The +Mexican Band played, and relieved the tedium of the +long sittings; but the women commissioners were upheld +chiefly by the feeling that they were drawn together +from all parts of the country, and were taking +an honored part in a great industrial and peaceful +pageant, whose results would be important to the +country and to mankind at large.</p> + +<p>The Journal tells in February of the "opening of +the colored people's department; very interesting. A +numerous assemblage of them showed a wide range +of types. Music, military, drumming especially good. +Saw in their exhibit a portrait of John A. Andrew +which looked like a greeting from the old heroic +time."</p> + +<p>The Woman's Department was formally opened on +March 3, though it had really been open to the public +since early January. The day was one of the gayest +in the history of the Exposition. The gallery of the +Government Building was bright with flowers and gay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106b" id="Page_106b">[106]</a></span> +with flags. Admiral Jouett had sent the ship's band +as a special compliment; the music was delightful, +the speeches excellent. We quote from Mrs. Howe's +address:—</p> + +<p>"I wish to speak of the importance, in an industrial +point of view, of a distinct showing of women's work +in the great industrial exhibits. There are few manufactures +in which the hand and brain of woman have +not their appointed part. So long, however, as this +work is shown merely in conjunction with that of men, +it is dimly recognized, and makes no distinct impression. +The world remains very imperfectly educated +concerning its women. They are liable to be regarded +as a non-producing class, supported by those to whom, +in the order of nature, their life is a necessary condition +of existence itself.... Exhibits like the present, then, +are useful in summing up much of this undervalued +work of women. A greater moral use they have in +raising the standard of usefulness and activity for +the sex in general. Good work, when recognized, acts +as a spur to human energy. Those who show how +women can excel are examples to shame those who +do not try. They lay upon their sex an obligation to +stronger endeavor and better action, and society gains +thereby.</p> + +<p>"Still more have I at heart the association, in these +enterprises, of women who are not bound to each other +by alliance of blood, or affinity of neighborhood. +Greater and more important than the acquisition of +skill is the cultivation of public spirit. '<i>Pro bono publico</i>' +is a motto whose meaning men should learn from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107b" id="Page_107b">[107]</a></span> +their infancy, and at their firesides. How shall they +learn it unless the women, the guardian spirits of the +household, shall hold and teach, beyond all other doctrines, +that of devotion and loyalty to the public good?</p> + +<p>"I value, then, for the sake of both men and women, +the disinterested association of women for the promotion +of the great interests of society....</p> + +<p>"You were stirred the other day by the bringing +back of a battle-flag whose rents had been carefully +mended. I tell you, sisters, we have all one flag now, +broad and bright enough to cover us all. Let us see +that no rent is made in it.</p> + +<p>"All that the best and wisest men can imagine for +the good of the human race can be wrought if the best +women will only help the best men."</p> + +<p><br />One of her most arduous tasks was the arranging +of a course of twenty-four "Twelve-o'Clock Talks," +which were given every Saturday from the middle +of February till the close of the Exposition. How she +labored over them her companion daughter well remembers: +remembers too what success crowned the +effort. The subjects varied widely. Captain Bedford +Pym, R.N., discoursed on Arctic explorations; Charles +Dudley Warner told the story of the Elmira Reformatory; +the Japanese Commissioner spoke of woman's +work in Japanese literature. These talks were free to +the public, and proved so popular that eight years +later the same plan was carried out in the Woman's +Department of the Chicago World's Fair, and again +proved its excellence and value.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108b" id="Page_108b">[108]</a></span>As if all this were not enough, she must found a +Literary Association among the young people of New +Orleans. She named them the Pans, and among their +number were several whose names have since become +well known in literature. Grace King, Elizabeth Bisland, +and others will remember those evenings, when +their bright youth flashed responsive to the call of +the elder woman of letters.</p> + +<p>In all the stress and hurry, we find this entry:—</p> + +<p>"My dear father's birthday. I left the Exposition +early and walked to visit dear Marion's grave in Girard +Street Cemetery. A lovely place it was. He is +buried above ground in a sort of edifice formed of brick, +the rows of coffins being laid on stone floors, each +single one divided from those on either side of it by +a stone partition. 'Francis Marion Ward, died September +3rd, 1847.' Erected by William Morse, dear +Marion's friend."</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 16.</i> Gave my talk to the colored people, soon +after two in the afternoon in their department. A +pretty hexagonal platform had been arranged. Behind +this was a fine portrait of Abraham Lincoln, with +a vase of beautiful flowers [gladiolus and white lilies] +at its base. I spoke of Dr. Channing, Garrison, Theodore +Parker, Charles Sumner, John A. Andrew, Lucretia +Mott, and Wendell Phillips, occupying about an +hour. They gave me a fine basket of flowers and sang +my 'Battle Hymn.' Afterwards the Alabama cadets +visited us. We gave them tea, cake and biscuits and +I made a little speech for them."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109b" id="Page_109b">[109]</a></span>Winter and spring passed rapidly, each season +bringing fresh interest. The picturesqueness of New +Orleans, the many friends she made among its people, +the men and women gathered from every corner of +the world, well made up to her for the vexations which +inevitably attended her position. Looking back on +these days, she said of them: "It was like having a big, +big Nursery to administer, with children good, bad, +and middling. The good prevailed in the end, as it +usually or always does, and yet I used to say that +Satan had a fresh flower for me every morning, when +I came to my office, and took account of the state of +things."</p> + +<p>The difficulties with which the unfortunate managers +were struggling made it impossible for them to +keep their promises of financial support to the Woman's +Department. Things went from bad to worse. +Finally she realized that she herself must find the +money to pay the debts of her department and to return +the exhibits to the various States. She wrote a +letter to John M. Forbes, of Boston, urging him to +help her and her assistants out of their alarming predicament. +Through Mr. Forbes, the Honorable George +F. Hoar, Senator from Massachusetts, learned the +state of the case. The sum of $15,000 had been named +as that necessary to pay all just claims and wind up +the affairs of the Department. At this time a bill was +before Congress for an appropriation to aid the Exposition. +Thanks to the efforts of Mr. Hoar, a sum of +$15,000 was added to this bill with the express clause, +"For the Relief of the Woman's Department." The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110b" id="Page_110b">[110]</a></span> +bill was passed without discussion. The news was +received with great rejoicing in New Orleans, especially +in the Woman's Department, "where our need +was the sorest." The promise brought new life to the +weary workers; but they were to be far more weary +before the end. The Exposition closed on the last day +of May. Summer was upon them; the Northern women, +unused to the great heats of New Orleans, +longed to close up their business and depart, but the +money had not come from Congress, and they could +not leave their post. Days dragged on; days of torrid, +relentless heat. Our mother must borrow money for +the Department here and there to bridge over the gap +between promise and fulfilment. Worn out by fatigue, +anxiety, and the great heat, she fell seriously ill. Those +nearest her begged her to go home and leave to others +the final settlement of affairs, but she would not hear +of this. She would get well: she <i>must</i> get well! Rallying +her forces, mental and physical, she did get well, +though her illness for a time seemed desperate.</p> + +<p>At long last, when June was nearly half over, the +money came, and with it the end of her long task. +Accounts were audited, checks drawn, exhibits despatched; +and with farewell greetings and congratulations, +"the whole weary matter ended." Her report as +President of the Woman's Department tells the story:</p> + +<p>"The business of the Woman's Department having +thus been brought successfully to a close, it only remains +for its President to resign the office she has +filled, with some pain and much pleasure, for more +than six months,—to thank the officers of her staff<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111b" id="Page_111b">[111]</a></span> +for their able and faithful services, the vice-presidents, +and the lady commissioners in general, for the +friendly support she has had from them almost without +exception....</p> + +<p>"The classification by States she considers to have +justified itself, partly through the more distinct knowledge +thus gained of the work of women in localities +widely distant from each other, partly in the good acquaintance +and good-will developed by this method +of work. The friendly relations growing out of it still +bind together those who are now thousands of miles +apart, but who, we may hope, will ever remain united +in a common zeal for promoting the industrial interests +of women.</p> + +<p>"Finally, she would say that she considers herself +happy in having taken part in an Exposition of so high +and useful a character as that which has latterly made +New Orleans a centre of interest in the civilized world. +She takes leave with regret of a city in which she has +enjoyed much friendly intercourse and hospitality; a +city in whose renewed prosperity she must henceforth +feel a deep and lasting interest."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, July 19, 1885. +</div> + +<p>How I left New Orleans, how I came North, how +I let myself down here, is no doubt known to you thro' +inference. How hot New Orleans was before I left it, +you cannot know, nor how sick I was once upon a +time, nor how I came up upon iced champagne and +recovered myself, and became strong again. Ever since<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112b" id="Page_112b">[112]</a></span> +I came home, I have slaved at my report of the Woman's +Department. Weary pages have I written. Life +seems at last to consist in putting a pen into an inkstand, +and taking it out again, scribble, scribble, +nibble, nibble (meal-times), and go to bed between +whiles....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />So ended one of the most interesting and arduous +experiences of her life. She always held in affectionate +remembrance the city where she had enjoyed and +suffered so much, and the friends she made there.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, November 4, 1885. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">You little hateful thing</span>!</p> + +<p>Herewith returned is the letter you wrote for. I had +a mind to send it to you, beast that you are, without +one word, just to pay you for that postal. Of course, +I meant to write you immediately afterward in a separate +envelope, telling you that I still love you. But +there! I reflected that you could have a bad feeling if +you opened the envelope and found no greeting from +me. For the sake of posterity, Madam, I declined to +give you this bad feeling. I do also retain some proprietorship +in a certain pair of eyes which are like +Sapphira's. Oh! I mean sapphires, and I don't want +to dim them with any tear diamonds. "You flatter +yourself," replies the Good-Natured One,<a name="FNanchor_96_96" id="FNanchor_96_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> "to think +of my shedding tears about anything that you could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113b" id="Page_113b">[113]</a></span> +say or do, or leave unsaid or undone." Just so. All +right. I have got beefsteak for dinner to-day. What +do you think of the weather, and does your husband +know when your blacking is out?</p> + +<p>Now, my sweet darling, your old Mammy is just +back from a <i>tremendous</i> jaunt. I had a beautiful time +in Iowa, and am as well as possible. Only think, travelling +and at work for one calendar month, and not a +finger ache, 'cept one day, when I had a slight headache. +And I brought home over $200 earned by lectures....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"><span class="smcap">The Berkeley Nuisance,<a name="FNanchor_97_97" id="FNanchor_97_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a> New York</span>,<br /> +December 26, 1885. +</div> + +<p>... What have I been doing for the last eight weeks? +Never you mind, my little dear. Mostly putting a +girdle round the earth by correspondence, and some-ly +worrying about my poor relations. Don't you flatter +yourself that I ever thought of you under this head. +But the ——, and the ——, and the ——, taken +together, are enough to give one a turn at the worry-cat +system. Well 'm, I had also to see the distribution +of the whole edition of my New Orleans Report, and +I can only compare this to the process of taking down +a house, and of sending each individual brick somewhere, +labelled with your compliments; supposing +the bricks to be one thousand in number, it would +take some time to distribute them, Harry Richards +will be able to tell you how much time, and how many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114b" id="Page_114b">[114]</a></span> +masculine oaths would go to each hundred of the articles. +Well, that's enough about that. You have had +one of my bricks sent you, and hang me if I believe +you have read it. Sweetison (a new little 'spression +which I have this minute invented), I stayed at Oak +Glen until Monday last, which was the 21st. Then I +came here by the way of Boston, and arrove on Tuesday +evening. Our quarters, or rather eighths, are +small, considering my papers and Maud's clothes. The +food is fine, the style first-rate, the rigs imposing to a +degree, but, ah! I kind of hate it all. New York is too +frightfully dirty! and then so stereotyped and commonplace. +Boston losing its prestige? Not as I am at +present advised....</p></blockquote> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115b" id="Page_115b">[115]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>MORE CHANGES</h3> + +<h4>1886-1888; <i>aet.</i> 67-69</h4> + +<p>GIULIA ROMANA ANAGNOS</p> + +<p> +Giulia Romana! how thy trembling beauty,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That oft would shudder at one breath of praise,</span><br /> +Comes back to me! before the trump of duty<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Had marshalled thee in life's laborious ways.</span><br /> +<br /> +We used to wonder at thy blush in hearing<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy parents praised. We now know what it meant:</span><br /> +A consciousness of their gifts reappearing<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Perchance in thine—to consummation blent.</span><br /> +<br /> +Oh, she was beautiful, beyond all magic<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of sculptor's hand, or pencil to portray!</span><br /> +Something angelical, divinely tragic,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tempered the smile that round her lips would play.</span><br /> +<br /> +Dear first-born daughter of a hero's heart!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pass to perfection, all but perfect here!</span><br /> +We weep not much, remembering where thou art,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet, child of Poesy! receive a tear.</span><br /> + + +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 10em;">T. W. Parsons</span> +</p> + + +<p><br />The years 1886 and 1887 were marked by two events +which changed materially the course of her private life: +the death of Julia, the beloved eldest daughter, and +the marriage of Maud, the house-mate and comrade.</p> + +<p>During the winter of 1885-86 she made her headquarters +in New York. Lecture engagements, conferences, +and sermons took her hither and thither, and +much of the time that should have been "precious" +was passed in trains and boats.</p> + +<p>In the last days of February, Julia was stricken with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116b" id="Page_116b">[116]</a></span> +rheumatic fever, which soon developed into typhoid. +The weather was "direful: bitter cold and furious +wind." Our mother went at once to South Boston, +where "arriving, found my dear child seriously but not +dangerously ill. Her joy at my coming was very +pathetic."</p> + +<p>On the 28th she writes:—</p> + +<p>"I cannot be sure whether it was on this day that +she said to me: 'Mamma, don't you remember the +dream you had when Flossy and I were little children, +and you were in Europe? You dreamed that you saw +us in a boat and that the tide was carrying us away +from you. Now the dream has come true, and the tide +is bearing me away from you.'</p> + +<p>"This saying was very sad to me; but my mind was +possessed with the determination that death was not +to be thought of."</p> + +<p>For a time conditions seemed to improve, and she +hastened to New York, where her presence was imperative; +but a telegram summoned her back: Julia was +not so well, and "a pain as of death" fell on the anxious +mother.</p> + +<p>"Saw by Katie's face when she opened the door +that things were worse. I flew up the stairs and found +my darling little changed, except that her breathing +seemed rather worse. She was so glad to see me!... +About this time I noticed a change come over her +sweet face.... I felt, but would not believe, that it +was the beginning of the end. Julia was presently very +happy, with Michael on one side of her and myself on +the other. Each of us held a hand. She said: 'I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117b" id="Page_117b">[117]</a></span> +very happy now: if one has one's parents and one's +husband, what more can one want?' And presently, +'The angels have charge of me now, mamma and +Mimy.'<a name="FNanchor_98_98" id="FNanchor_98_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a> She said to me: 'What does the Lord want to +kill me for? I am dying.' I said, 'No, my darling, you +are going to get well.' She said: 'Remember, if anything +happens to me, you two must stay together.'... +A little later Michael and I were alone with her. She +began to wander, and talk as if with reference to her +club or some such thing. 'If this is not the right thing,' +she said, 'call another priestess'; then, very emphatically: +'Truth, truth.' These were her last words.</p> + +<p>"My darling should have been forty-two years old +this day...."</p> + +<p>A few days later she writes to Mary Graves:—</p> + +<p>"I am not wild, nor melancholy, nor inconsolable, +but I feel as America might if some great, fair State +were blotted from its map, leaving only a void for the +salt and bitter sea to overwhelm. I cannot, so far, get +any comfort from other worldly imaginings. If God +says anything to me now, he says, 'Thou fool.' The +truth is that we have no notion of the value and beauty +of God's gifts until they are taken from us. Then He +may well say: 'Thou fool,' and we can only answer +to our name."</p> + +<p>The Journal says:—</p> + +<p>"This is the last day of this sorrowful March which +took my dear one from me. I seem to myself only dull, +hard, and confused under this affliction. I pray God +to give me comfort by raising me up that I may be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118b" id="Page_118b">[118]</a></span> +nearer to the higher life into which she and her dear +father have passed. And thou? <i>eleison</i>...."</p> + +<p>"Have had an uplifting of soul to-day. Have written +to Mary Graves: 'I am at last getting to stand +where I can have some spiritual outlook.' The confusion +of 'is not' is giving place to the steadfastness of +'is.' Have embodied my thoughts in a poem to my +dear Julia and in some pages which I may read at the +meeting intended to commemorate her by the New +England Woman's Club."</p> + +<p>The Journal of this spring is full of tender allusions +to the beloved daughter. The dreams of night often +brought back the gracious figure; these visions are +accurately described, each detail dwelt on with loving +care.</p> + +<p>In the "Reminiscences" she tells of Julia's consecrated +life, of her devotion to her father, and to the +blind pupils; describes, too, her pleasure in speaking +at the Concord School of Philosophy (where her "mind +seemed to have found its true level") and in a Metaphysical +Club of her own founding.</p> + +<p>"It was beautiful to see her seated in the midst of +this thoughtful circle, which she seemed to rule with +a staff of lilies. The club was one in which diversity +of opinion sometimes brought individuals into sharp +contrast with each other; but her gentle government +was able to bring harmony out of discord, and to subdue +alike the crudeness of scepticism and the fierceness +of intolerance."</p> + +<p>In the "Reminiscences" we find also the record of +Julia's parting injunction to her husband: "Be kind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119b" id="Page_119b">[119]</a></span> +to the little blind children, for they are papa's children."</p> + +<p>"These parting words," our mother adds, "are inscribed +on the wall of the Kindergarten for the Blind +at Jamaica Plain. Beautiful in life, and most beautiful +in death, her sainted memory has a glory beyond that +of worldly fame."</p> + +<p>She considered Julia the most gifted of her children. +The "Reminiscences" speak of her at some length, +making mention of her beneficent life, and of her published +works, a volume of poems entitled "Stray +Chords," and "Philosophiæ Quæstor," a slender volume +in which she described the Concord School of +Philosophy and her pleasure therein.</p> + +<p>In our mother's house of life, each child had its +special room, though no door was locked to any. In +all things pertaining to philosophy, Julia was her +special intimate. For help and sympathy in suffrage +and club doings, she turned naturally to Florence, an +ardent worker in these fields; with Harry she would +specially enjoy music; with Laura would talk of books; +while Maud was the "Prime Minister" in social and +household matters. So, till the very last, we gray-haired +children leaned on her, clung to her, as in the +days when we were children indeed.</p> + +<p>A few years before Julia's death, our mother wrote +to Mrs. Cheney, who had lost her only daughter: +"This combat of the soul with deadly sorrow is a single-handed +one, so far as human help is concerned. I +do believe that God's sweet angels are with us when +we contend against the extreme of calamity."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120b" id="Page_120b">[120]</a></span>Heavy as this affliction was, it brought none of the +paralysis of grief caused by Sammy's death: rather, as +after the passing of the Chevalier, she was urged by +the thought of her dead child to more and higher +efforts.</p> + +<p>In the quiet of Oak Glen she wrote this summer a +careful study of Dante and Beatrice, for the Concord +School of Philosophy.<a name="FNanchor_99_99" id="FNanchor_99_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> July 20 found her at +Concord, where she and Julia had been wont to go +together. She says, "I cannot think of the sittings +of the School without a vision of the rapt expression +of her face as she sat and listened to the various +speakers."<a name="FNanchor_100_100" id="FNanchor_100_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a></p> + +<p>Spite of her grief in missing this sweet companionship +she found the sessions of the School deeply interesting. +She was "much more nervous than usual" +about her lecture; which "really sounded a good deal +better than it had looked to me. It was wonderfully +well received."</p> + +<p>We are told by the last living representative of the +School of Philosophy, Mr. F. B. Sanborn, that she +was the most attractive, and sometimes the most +profound, of its lecturers; "had the largest audiences, +and gave the most pleasure; especially when she +joined delicate personal criticism or epigrammatic wit +with high philosophy."</p> + +<p>The meetings of the School were always a delight +to her; the papers written for it were among her most +valuable essays; indeed, we may look upon them as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121b" id="Page_121b">[121]</a></span> +the flowering of all her deep and painful toil in the +field of philosophy.<a name="FNanchor_101_101" id="FNanchor_101_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_101_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a></p> + +<p>September finds her planning an "industrial circle" +in each State; a woman's industrial convention hereafter; +and attending a Suffrage Convention at Providence.</p> + +<p>"Spoke of the divine right, not of kings or people, +but of righteousness. Spoke of Ouida's article in the +'North American Review.' It had been reported +that I declined to answer it. I said: 'You cannot +mend a stocking which is <i>all</i> holes. If you hold it up +it will fall to pieces of itself.'</p> + +<p>"In the afternoon spoke about the Marthas, male +and female, who see only the trouble and inconvenience +of reform: of the Marys who rely upon principle."</p> + +<p>After this we have "a day of dreadful hurry, preparing +to go West and also to shut up this house. Had +to work <i>tight</i> every minute...."</p> + +<p>This Western lecture trip was like many others, +yet it had its own peculiar pleasures and mishaps.</p> + +<p>"<i>October 12.</i> Dunkirk, lecture.... No one must +know that I got off at the wrong station—Perrysburg, +a forlorn hamlet. No train that would bring me +to Dunkirk before 6.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Ought to have arrived at +1.30. Went to the 'hotel,' persuaded the landlord to +lend his buggy and a kindly old fellow to harness his +horses to it, and drove twenty miles or more over the +mountains, reaching Dunkirk by 5.10 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> When the +buggy was brought to the door of the hotel, I said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122b" id="Page_122b">[122]</a></span> +'How am I to get in?' 'Take it slow and learn to +pedal,' said my old driver. Presently he said, 'I guess +you ain't so old as I be.' I replied, 'I am pretty well +on toward seventy.' 'Well, I am five years beyond,' +said he. He drives an accommodation wagon between +Perrysburg and Versailles, a small town where a man +once wanted to set up a mill, and to buy land and +water power, and they wouldn't sell either. Whereupon +he went to Tonawanda and made the place. +'Guess they'd have done better to gin him the land +and water, and to set up his mill for him,' said my +man, Hinds."</p> + +<p>On this trip she saw the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky, +taking the seven-mile walk; went as far as +Kansas City; was received everywhere with delightful +warmth.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +December 1, 1886. +</div> + +<p>You see, I was waiting for the winter to begin, in +order to write you, and that you ought to have known. +But bless you, in Gardiner, Maine, you don't know +when real <i>Winter</i> begins, 'cause you have so much sham +winter. Well, better late than never. Here's thanking +you very much for the delightful [tea] cozy. Maud +said, "What are you going to do with it?" sarcastic-like. +I replied, "Put it on my head"; to which she +<i>inquit</i>, "Most natural thing for you to do." The sight +of the monogram gave me real satisfaction and a sense +of inborn dignity. You boil down to your monogram, +after all, and this one was beyond my highest expectations.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123b" id="Page_123b">[123]</a></span> +I am only thinking, dear, whether you would +not have shown more respect by putting the crimson +satin bow on the monogram side, and thus, as it were, +calling attention to the distinguished initials.... I +am grinding now in all of my mills, of which one is a +paper for the "Woman Suffrage Bazaar," which paper +I am doing my best to edit. I cannot in conscience ask +you to send me anything for its columns, because, +poor dear, you have to do so much work on your own +account. At the same time, a trifling overflow into +the hat would be very welcome....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />Winter brought another grave anxiety. Florence +in her turn developed rheumatic fever and became +alarmingly ill. The mother-bird flew to her in terror. +On the way she met Henry Ward Beecher and told +him of her deep distress, made still more poignant by +the thought of the little children who might be left +motherless. She was scarcely comforted by his assurance +that he "had known stepmothers who were very +good to their stepchildren"!</p> + +<p>It was Christmas time, and she divided her time +between the beloved patient and the children who +must not lack their holiday cheer.</p> + +<p>"<i>December 27.</i> The day was a very distressing one +to me. I sat much of the time beside Flossy with a +strange feeling that I could keep her alive by some +effort of my will. I seemed to contend with God, saying, +'I gave up Julia, I can't give up Flossy—she has +children.'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 28.</i> Most of the day with dear Flossy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124b" id="Page_124b">[124]</a></span> +who seems a little better. I sat up with her until 1.30 +<span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, and made a great effort of will to put her to +sleep. I succeeded—she slept well for more than an +hour and slept again for a good while without any +narcotic."</p> + +<p>Throughout the illness she fought against the use +of narcotics.</p> + +<p>The cloud of danger and anxiety passed, and the +year closed in happiness and deep thankfulness. The +last entry reads:—</p> + +<p>"God bless all my dear people, sisters, children, +grandchildren, and cousins. God grant me also to serve +while I live, and not to fail of the high and holy life. +Amen!"</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +Monday, January 31, 1887. +</div> + +<p>Now, you just look here.</p> + +<p>Daughter began her school and music to-day. Nobody's +a-neglecting of her. What you mean? Grandma +took her to Clarke church, prouder than a peacock,—Grandma, +I mean.</p> + +<p>Congregation <i>inquit</i>: "Whose child is that?"</p> + +<p>"Laura's," <i>responsa sum</i>.</p> + +<p>"<i>Id cogitavi</i>" was the general answer. And she's +pop'lar, she is. Little fourteen-year-olds keep a-coming +and a-coming. And I draws her bath, and tucks her +up in bed. And she's having a splendid time. And +I want some more of this paper. And my feelings +won't allow me to say any more. No—my dearest +sweetest pug pie, your darling won't be forgotten for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125b" id="Page_125b">[125]</a></span> +moment. We couldn't get at the lessons before, and +last week, like strong drink, was raging.</p> + +<div class="signature">'Fectionate<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ma</span>. +</div></blockquote> + +<p>Maud was now engaged to John Elliott, a young +Scottish painter, whose acquaintance they had made +in Europe in 1878. The marriage took place on February +7, 1887. Though there were many periods of +separation, the Elliotts, when in this country, made +their home for the most part with our mother. The +affection between her and her son-in-law was deep; +his devotion to her constant. Through the years that +were to follow, the comradeship of the three was hardly +less intimate than that of the two had been.</p> + +<p>The Journal carries us swiftly onward. In place of +the long meditations on philosophy and metaphysics, +we have brief notes of comings and goings, of speaking +and preaching, writing and reading. She works hard +to finish her paper on "Women in the Three Professions, +Law, Medicine, and Theology," for the "Chautauquan." +"Very tired afterwards."</p> + +<p>She speaks at the Newport Opera House with Mrs. +Livermore (who said she did not know Mrs. Howe +could speak so well); she takes part in the Authors' +Reading for the Longfellow Memorial in the Boston +Museum, reciting "Our Orders" and the "Battle +Hymn," with her lines to Longfellow recently composed.</p> + +<p>"I wore my velvet gown, my mother's lace, Uncle +Sam's <i>Saint Esprit</i>, and did my best, as did all the +others."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126b" id="Page_126b">[126]</a></span>The next day she speaks at a suffrage meeting in +Providence, and makes this comment:—</p> + +<p>"Woman suffrage represents individual right, integral +humanity, ideal justice. I spoke of the attitude +and action of Minerva in the 'Eumenides';<a name="FNanchor_102_102" id="FNanchor_102_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> her resistance +to the Furies, who I said personified popular +passion fortified by ancient tradition; her firm stand +for a just trial, and her casting the decisive ballot. I +hoped that this would prefigure a great life-drama in +which this gracious prophecy would be realized."</p> + +<p>In a "good talk with Miss Eddy,"<a name="FNanchor_103_103" id="FNanchor_103_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> she devises a +correspondence and circular to obtain information +concerning art clubs throughout the country. "I am +to draft the circular."</p> + +<p>She makes an address at the Unitarian Club in +Providence.</p> + +<p>"The keynote to this was given me yesterday, by +the sight of the people who thronged the popular +churches, attracted, in a great measure no doubt, by +the Easter decoration and music. I thought: 'What a +pity that everybody cannot hear Phillips Brooks.' I +also thought: 'They can all hear the lesson of heavenly +truth in the great Church of All Souls and of All +Saints; <i>there</i> is room enough and to spare.'"</p> + +<p>She writes a poem for the Blind Kindergarten at +Jamaica Plain.</p> + +<p>"I worked at my poem until the last moment and +even changed it from the manuscript as I recited it. +The occasion was most interesting. Sam Eliot presided,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127b" id="Page_127b">[127]</a></span> +and made a fine opening address, in which he +spoke beautifully of dear Julia and her service to the +blind; also of her father. I was joined by Drs. Peabody +and Bartol, Brooke Herford and Phillips Brooks. +They all spoke delightfully and were delightful to be +with. I recited my poem as well as I could. I think it +was well liked, and I was glad of the work I bestowed +on it."</p> + +<p>She preaches at Parker Fraternity<a name="FNanchor_104_104" id="FNanchor_104_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a> on "The Ignorant +Classes."</p> + +<p>Small wonder that at the Club Tea she finds herself +"not over-bright." Still, she had a "flash or two. The +state of Karma [calmer], orchestral conversation, and +solo speaking."</p> + +<p>She hears the Reverend William Rounceville Alger's +paper on the "Blessed Life." "Very spiritual and in +a way edifying; but marred by what I should call +'mixed metaphysic.' One goes beyond his paper to feel +a deep sympathy with him, a man of intense intellectual +impulse, in following which he undergoes a sort +of martyrdom; while yet he does not seem to me to hit +the plain, practical truth so much as one might wish. +He is an estray between Western and Eastern thought, +inclining a good deal, though not exclusively, to the +latter."</p> + +<p>She goes to conferences of women preachers, to +peace meetings; to jubilee meetings, in honor of Queen +Victoria; she conducts services at the Home for Intemperate +Women, and thinks it was a good time.</p> + +<p>She "bites into" her paper on Aristophanes, "with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128b" id="Page_128b">[128]</a></span> +a very aching head"; finishes it, delivers it at Concord +before the School of Philosophy.</p> + +<p>"Before I began, I sent this one word to Davidson,<a name="FNanchor_105_105" id="FNanchor_105_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a> +<i>eleison</i>. This because it seemed as if he might resent +my assuming to speak at all of the great comedian. +He seemed, however, to like what I said, and in the +discussion which followed, he took part with me, +against Sanborn, who accuses Aristophanes of having +always lent his wit to the service of the old aristocratic +party. Returned to Boston and took train for +Weirs, New Hampshire, where arrived more dead than +alive."</p> + +<p>She is at Newport now, and there are tender notes +of pleasure with the Hall grandchildren, of "reading +and prayers" with them on Sunday, of picnics and +sailing parties.</p> + +<p>Still, in dreams, she calls back the lost daughter; +still records with anxious care each visionary word and +gesture.</p> + +<p>"Dreamed this morning of Charles Sumner and +dearest Julia. She was talking to me; part of the time +reclining on a sort of lounge. I said to some one, 'This +is our own dear Julia, feel how warm she is.'... I +think I said something about our wanting to see her +oftener. She said pathetically, 'Can't you talk of me?' +I said, 'We do, darling.' 'Not very often,' I think was +her reply. Then she seemed to come very near me, and +I said to her, 'Darling, do they let you come here as +often as you want to?' She said, 'Not quite.' I asked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129b" id="Page_129b">[129]</a></span> +why, and she answered almost inaudibly, 'They are +afraid of my troubling people.' I stirred and woke; +but the dear vision remains with me, almost calling +me across the silent sea."</p> + +<p>She writes innumerable letters; date and address of +each is carefully noted, and now and then an abstract +of her words.</p> + +<p>"The bane of all representative action is that the +spur of personal ambition will carry people further +than larger and more generous considerations of good +are apt to do. So the mean-hearted and ambitious are +always forward in politics; while those who believe +in great principles are perhaps too much inclined to let +the principles do all the work...."</p> + +<p>The following extracts hurry the year to its close:—</p> + +<p>"<i>November 7.</i> Left for Boston by 10.20 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> train, +to attend the celebration of Michael's [Anagnos] fiftieth +birthday at the Institution, and the opening +meeting of the N.E.W.C.... Arriving in Boston, +I ran about somewhat, fatiguing myself dreadfully. +Reached the Institution by 4.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>, when, throwing +myself on the bed for necessary rest, the desired +rhymes for Anagnos's birthday flashed upon me, 'all +of a sudden,' and instead of napping, I called for pen +and ink and wrote them. The meeting was very good; +I presided. Dwight and Rodocanachi made speeches, +the latter presenting the beautiful chain given to +Michael by the teachers of the Institution. Michael +was much moved and could not but be much gratified. +I proposed three cheers at the end."</p> + +<p>"I stole half an hour to attend a meeting in memory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130b" id="Page_130b">[130]</a></span> +of Hannah Stephenson [the friend and house-mate of +Theodore Parker] of whom much good was said that +I did not know of. I reproached myself for having always +been repelled by her ugliness of countenance and +tart manner, and having thus failed to come within the +sphere of her really noble influence. The occasion recalled +a whole vision of the early and painful struggle +in Boston; of the martyrdom of feeling endured by +friends of the slave—of Parker's heroic house and pulpit. +It seemed, as it often does, great to have known +these things, little to have done so little in consequence."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 27.</i> Finished my lecture on 'Woman in +the Greek Drama.' It was high time, as my head and +eyes are tired with the persistent strain.... All the +past week has been hard work. No pleasure reading +except a very little in the evening."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 1....</i> Took 2.30 train for Melrose.... +I read my new lecture—'Woman as shown by the +Greek Dramatists': of whom I quoted from Æschylus, +Sophocles, and Aristophanes. A Club Tea followed: +a pleasant one. I asked the mothers present whether +they educated their daughters in hygiene and housekeeping. +The response was not enthusiastic, and people +were more disposed to talk of the outer world, +careers of women, business or profession, than to +speak of the home business. One young girl, however, +told us that she was a housekeeping girl; a very +pleasant lady, Mrs. Burr, had been trained by her +mother, to her own great advantage."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 18.</i> For the [Parker] Fraternity a text<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131b" id="Page_131b">[131]</a></span> +occurs to me, 'Upon this rock I will build my church.' +Will speak of the simple religious element in human +nature, the loss of which no critical skill or insight +could replace. Will quote some of the acts and expressions +of the true religious zeal of other days, and ask +why this means nothing for us of to-day."</p> + +<p>Her first act of 1888 was to preach this sermon before +the Parker Fraternity. It was one of those best liked +by herself and others.</p> + +<p>The great event of this year was her visit to California. +She had never seen the Pacific Coast; the Elliotts +were going to Chicago for an indefinite stay; her +sister Annie, whom she had not seen in many years, +begged earnestly for a visit from the "Old Bird."</p> + +<p>She decided to make the journey, and arranged a +lecture tour to cover its expenses.</p> + +<p>The expedition was throughout one of deepest interest. +It began with "a day of frightful hurry and +fatigue. I had been preparing for this departure for +some time past; yet when the time came, it seemed as +if I could hardly get off. Maud worked hard to help +me. She insisted upon arranging matters for me; went +to the bank; got my ticket. We parted cheerfully, +yet I felt the wrench. God knows whether she will +ever be in my house again, as my partner in care and +responsibility...."</p> + +<p>After an "A.A.W." conference in Boston, and a +Woman's Council in Washington, she took the road. +Her first stop was at Chicago. Here she was "very +busy and not quite well. Divided the day between +Maud and some necessary business. At 3.15 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132b" id="Page_132b">[132]</a></span> +dreadful wrench took place. Maud was very brave, +but I know that she felt it as I did...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Merchants' Hotel</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">St. Paul, Minnesota</span>, April 10. +</div> + +<p>So far, so good, my dear sweet child. I got me off +as well as possible, though we had many complications +and delays as to the ticket. My section was very +comfortable. I had supper in the dining-car, and slept +well, no theatre-troupe nor D. T. being aboard. I +have now got my ticket all straight to 'Frisco, and +won't I frisk oh! when I get there!</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The next stop was at Spokane Falls. Here she had +"a bronchial attack; very hoarse and sore in my throat +and chest. Went over my lecture carefully, leaving +out some pages. Felt absolute need of tea-stimulant, +and went downtown, finding some in a grocer's shop. +The good servant Dora made me a hot cup which +refreshed me greatly. Very hoarse at my lecture. +Opera House a good one enough; for a desk, a box +mounted on a barrel, all covered with a colored paper; +decent enough. Lecture: 'Polite Society'; well +received." The Spokane of to-day may smile at the +small things of yesterday; yet our mother always +spoke with pleasure of her cordial reception there.</p> + +<p>Walla Walla, Walula, Paser. In the last-named +place she "found a tavern with many claimants for +beds. Mrs. Isaacs, who came with me from Walla +Walla for a little change of air, could not have a separate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133b" id="Page_133b">[133]</a></span> +room, and we were glad to share not only a small +room but also a three-quarters bed. I was cramped +and slept miserably. She was very quiet and amiable."</p> + +<p>At Tacoma again (on the way whither she felt as if +her life hung by a thread while crossing the Notch), +there was but one room for the two ladies, but they +occupied it "very peacefully."</p> + +<p>After church at Tacoma "we heard singing in one of +the parlors, and went in quest of it. In the great parlor +of the hotel where hops take place, we found an +assemblage of men and women, mostly young, singing +Gospel hymns, with an accompaniment of grand +piano. The Bishop of New Zealand stood in the middle +of the apartment singing with gusto. Presently he +took his place at the instrument, his wife joining him as +if she thought his situation dangerous for a 'lone hand.' +A little later, some one, who appeared to act as master +of ceremonies, asked me to come over and be introduced +to the Bishop, to which I consented. His first +question was: 'Are you going to New Zealand immediately?' +He is a Londoner. 'Ah, come; with all +your States, you can show nothing like London.' Being +asked for a brief address, he spoke very readily, with +a frank, honest face, and in a genial, offhand manner. +A good specimen of his sort, not fine-brained, nor +over-brained, but believing in religion and glad to +devote his life to it. The Bishop has blue eyes and a +shaggy head of grizzled hair."</p> + +<p>After Tacoma came "hospitable Seattle"; where she +lectured and attended a meeting of the Seattle Emerson +Club; then to Olympia, by a small Sound steamer.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134b" id="Page_134b">[134]</a></span>"A queer old bachelor on board, hearing me say +that I should like to live in Washington Territory, said +he would give me a handsome house and lot if I would +live in Olympia, at which several Olympians present +laughed."</p> + +<p>She left Olympia by train, <i>en route</i> for Portland. +The conductor, "Brown by name," saw the name on +her valise, and claimed acquaintance, remembering +her when she lived in Boylston Place. Soon after, +passing a lovely little mill-stream, with a few houses +near it, by name Tumwater, she consulted him as to +the value of land there, with the result that she bought +several acres of "good bottom land."</p> + +<p>This was one of several small purchases of land made +during her various journeyings. She always hoped +that they would bring about large results: the Tumwater +property was specially valued by her, though +she never set foot in the place. The pioneer was strong +in her, as it was in the Doctor; the romance of travel +never failed to thrill her. Speeding hither and thither +by rail, her eye caught beauty and desirableness in a +flash; the settler stirred in her blood, and she longed to +possess and to develop. Tumwater she fondly hoped +was to bring wealth to the two eldest grandchildren, +to whom she bequeathed it.</p> + +<p>In Portland she spent several days, lectured three +times, and was most hospitably entertained. On her +one disengaged evening she went down into the hotel +parlor, played for the guests to dance, played accompaniments +for them to sing. She spoke to the school +children; "she made slight acquaintance with various<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135b" id="Page_135b">[135]</a></span> +people," most of whom told her the story of their +lives. Briefly, she touched life at every point.</p> + +<p>Finally, on May 5, she reached San Francisco, and a +few hours later the ranch of San Geronimo, where the +Mailliards had been living for some years.</p> + +<p>"Situation very beautiful," she says; "a cup in +the mountains." Here she found her beloved sister +Annie, the "little Hitter" of her early letters; here +she spent happy days, warm with outer and inner +sunshine.</p> + +<p>California was a-tiptoe with eagerness to see and +hear the author of the "Battle Hymn"; many lectures +were planned, in San Francisco and elsewhere. The +Journal gives but brief glimpses of this California visit, +which she always recalled with delight as one of the +best of all her "great good times." In the newspaper +clippings, preserved in a scrapbook, we find the adjectives +piled mountain high in praise and appreciation. +Though not yet seventy, she was already, in the eye +of the youthful reporter, "aged"; her silver hair was +dwelt on lovingly; people were amazed at her activity. +One of the great occasions was the celebration +of Decoration Day by the Grand Army of the Republic +in the Grand Opera House, at which she was the +guest of honor. The house was packed; the stage +brilliant with flowers and emblems. Her name was +cheered to the echo. She spoke a few words of acknowledgment.</p> + +<p>"I join in this celebration with thrilled and uplifted +heart. I remember those camp-fires, I remember those +dreadful battles. It was a question with us women,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136b" id="Page_136b">[136]</a></span> +'Will our men prevail? Until they do they will not +come home.' How we blessed them when they did; +how we blessed them with our prayers when they were +in the battlefield. Those were times of sorrow; this +is one of joy. Let us thank God, who has given us +these victories."</p> + +<p>The audience rose <i>en masse</i>, and stood while the +"Battle Hymn" was sung, author and audience joining +in the chorus.</p> + +<p>After her second lecture in Santa Barbara, she +"sauntered a little, and spent a little money. Bought +some imperfect pearls which will look well when set. +Wanted a handsome brooch which I saw; thought I +had best conquer my desire, and did so."</p> + +<p>At Ventura: "Got so tired that I could hardly dress +for lecture." The next day she proposed to Mrs. S. +at dinner (1 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>) to invite some young people for the +evening, promising to play for them to dance. "She +[Mrs. S.] ordered a buggy and drove about the village. +Her son stretched a burlap on the straw matting and +waxed it. About thirty came. We had some sweet +music, singers with good voices, and among others a +pupil of Perabo, who was really interesting and remarkable."</p> + +<p>At one of the hospitable cities, a gentleman asked +her to drive with him, drove her about for a couple +of hours, descanting upon the beauties of the place, +and afterwards proclaimed that Mrs. Howe was the +most agreeable woman he had ever met. "And I never +once opened my lips!" she said.</p> + +<p>On June 10 she preached in Oakland: "the one sermon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137b" id="Page_137b">[137]</a></span> +which I have felt like preaching in these parts: +'Thou art Peter, and upon this rock.' The house was +well filled.... After service as I leaned over to speak +to those who stopped to greet me, I saw one of our +old church-members, who told me, with eyes full of +tears, that our dear James Freeman Clarke is no +more. This was like an ice-bolt; I could not realize it +at first.</p> + +<p> +"'A very tender history<br /> +Did in your passing fall.'<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Years of sweet converse, of following and dependence, +end with this event."</p> + + +<p><br />So we come to the last day at the ranch, the parting +with the dear sister; the departure for San Francisco, +laden with roses and good wishes.</p> + +<p>On the way eastward she stopped at Salt Lake City, +and went to the Mormon Tabernacle; "an enormous +building with a roof like the back of a turtle; many +tourists present. The Mormons mostly an ill-looking +and ill-smelling crowd. Bishop Whitney, a young man, +preached a cosmopolite sermon, quoting Milton and +Emerson. He spoke of the Christian Church with patronizing +indulgence; insisted upon the doctrine of +immediate and personal revelation, and censured the +Mormons for sometimes considering their families before +their church. Communion, bread in silver baskets +and water in silver cups, handed to every one, children +partaking with the rest; no solemnity."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 26.</i> To visit the penitentiary, where thirty +Mormon bishops are imprisoned for polygamy. Spoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138b" id="Page_138b">[138]</a></span> +with one, Bishop of Provo, a rather canny-looking +man, whom we found in the prison library, reading. +The librarian (four years' term for forgery) told me it +was the result of liquor and bad company. I said a +few motherly words to him and presently proposed +to speak to the prisoners, to which the jailer gladly +assented. I began by saying, 'I feel to speak to you, +my brothers.' Said that all of us make mistakes and +many of us do wrong at times. Exhorted them to +give, in future, obedience to the laws upon which the +existence of society depends. The convict Montrose +sent to me a little chain and ornaments of his own +making. I promised to send one or two books for the +library...."</p> + +<p>So, through "bowery and breezy Nebraska; such a +relief to eyes and nerves!" to Chicago, where Maud +kept and comforted her as long as might be, and sent +her refreshed on her way; finally to Boston, where she +arrived half-starved, and so to Newport.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +July 8, 1888. +</div> +<p>Grumble, grumble—tumble, tumble,<br /> +For something to eat,<br /> +Fast-y fast-y nasty, nasty,<br /> +At last, at last-y,<br /> +Ma's dead beat!<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Oh! the dust of it, and the swirl, in which the black +porter and the white babies all seemed mixed up together. +A few dried and withered old women, like myself, +were thrown in, an occasional smoky gent, and +the gruel 'thick and slab,' was what is called Human<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139b" id="Page_139b">[139]</a></span> +Nature! This is the spleeny vein, and I indulge it to +make you laugh, but really, my journey was as comfortable +as heat and speed would allow. Imagine my +feelings on learning that there was no dining or buffet +car! Do not grieve about this, the biscuits and bananas +which you put up carried me quite a way. We got a +tolerable breakfast at Cleveland, and a bad dinner at +Buffalo, but dry your eyes, the strawberry shortcake +was uncommonly good. And think how good it is that +I have got through with it all and can now rest good +and handsome."</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The summer entries in the Journal are varied and +picturesque. "My cow, of which I was fond, was +found dead this morning.... My neighbor Almy was +very kind.... I feel this a good deal, but complaining +will not help matters."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bancroft [George], historian, brought Dr. +Hedge to call after dinner. Mr. B. kissed me on both +cheeks for the first time in his life. We had a very +pleasant and rather brilliant talk, as might have been +expected where such men meet."</p> + +<p>She writes to Maud:—</p> + +<p>"Mr. Alger seized upon my left ear metaphorically +and emptied into it all the five-syllable words that he +knew, and the result was a mingling of active and +passive lunacy, for I almost went mad and he had not +far to go in that direction."</p> + +<p>And again; apropos of ——: "How the great +world does use up a man! It is not merely the growing +older, for that is a natural and simple process; but it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140b" id="Page_140b">[140]</a></span> +the coating of worldliness which seems to varnish the +life out of a man; dead eyes, dead smile, and (worst +of all) dead breath."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 23</i>. To church in Newport. A suggestive +sermon from Mr. Alger on 'Watching,' <i>i.e.</i>, upon +all the agencies that watch us, children, foes, friends, +critics, authorities, spirits, God himself.</p> + +<p>"As we drove into town [Newport] I had one of +those momentary glimpses which in things spiritual +are so infinitely precious. The idea became clear and +present to my mind that God, an actual presence, +takes note of our actions and intentions. I thought +how helpful it would be to us to pass our lives in a +sense of this divine supervision. After this inward +experience I was almost startled by the theme of Alger's +sermon. I spoke to him of the coincidence, and +he said it must have been a thought wave. The thought +is one to which I have need to cling. I have at this +moment mental troubles, obsessions of imagination, +from which I pray to be delivered. While this idea +of the divine presence was clear to me, I felt myself +lifted above these things. May this lifting continue."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 4.</i> In my prayer this morning I thanked +God that I have come to grieve more over my moral +disappointments than over my intellectual ones. +With my natural talents I had nothing to do: with +my use or abuse of them, everything.</p> + +<p>"I have thought, too, lately, of a reason why we +should not neglect our duty to others for our real or +supposed duty to ourselves. It is this: ourselves we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141b" id="Page_141b">[141]</a></span> +have always with us; our fellows flit from our company, +or pass away and we must help them when and +while we can."</p> + +<p>On December 5 she hears "the bitter news of Abby +May's death. Alas! and alas! for the community, for +her many friends, and for the Club and the Congress in +which she did such great silent service. God rest her +in His sweet peace!"</p> + +<p>On Christmas Day she went to "Trinity Church, +where I enjoyed Phillips Brooks's sermon. Felt much +drawn to go to communion with the rest; but thought +it might occasion surprise and annoyance. Going into +a remote upper gallery I was present at the scene, and +felt that I had my communion without partaking of +the 'elements.' These lines also suggested themselves +as I walked home:—</p> + +<p> +"The Universal bread,<br /> +The sacrificial wine,<br /> +The glory of the thorn-crowned head,<br /> +Humanity divine."<br /> +</p> + +<p>"The last day of the year dawned upon me, bringing +solemn thoughts of the uncertainty of life, and sorrow +for such misuse of its great gifts and opportunities as +I am well conscious of. This has been a good year to +me. It carried me to the Pacific slope, and showed me +indeed a land of promise. It gave me an unexpected +joy in the harmonious feelings toward me and the +members of A.A.W. at the Detroit Congress. It +has, alas! taken from me my dear pastor, most precious +to me for help and instruction, and other dear and valued +friends, notably Sarah Shaw Russell,<a name="FNanchor_106_106" id="FNanchor_106_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> Abby W.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142b" id="Page_142b">[142]</a></span> +May and Carrie Tappan.<a name="FNanchor_107_107" id="FNanchor_107_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> I desire to set my house in +order, and be ready for my departure; thankful to +live, or willing to cease from my mortal life when God +so wills...."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143b" id="Page_143b">[143]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>SEVENTY YEARS YOUNG</h3> + +<h4>1889-1890; <i>aet.</i> 70-71</h4> + +<p> +The seven decades of my years<br /> +I figure like those Pleiad spheres<br /> +Which, thro' the heaven's soft impulse moved,<br /> +Still seek a sister star beloved.<br /> +<br /> +Thro' many sorrows, more delight,<br /> +Thro' miracles in sound and sight,<br /> +Thro' battles lost and battles won,<br /> +These star-spaced years have led me on.<br /> +<br /> +Though long behind me shows the path,<br /> +The future still its promise hath,<br /> +For tho' the past be fair and fond,<br /> +The perfect number lies beyond.<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + +<p><br />She was dissatisfied with herself in these days.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 1, 1889.</i> In my prayer this night I asked +for weight and earnestness of purpose. I am too frivolous +and frisky."</p> + +<p>"On waking I said, 'If God does not help me this +day, I shall not be able to finish my address' [for a +Washington's Birthday celebration at Newport]."</p> + +<p>She thinks He did help her, as she found the vein +of what she wished to say, and finished it to her +"tolerable satisfaction."</p> + +<p>"As I entered the hall in the evening, the thought of +Cinderella struck me, and I used it by comparing the +fashion, of which we make so much account, to Cinderella +with her rat horses and pumpkin carriage, so +resplendent until her hour came; then the horses would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144b" id="Page_144b">[144]</a></span> +not carry her, the golden coach would not hold her, +her illusory grandeur was at an end. Our cause of truth +and justice I compared to the Princess in her enchanted +sleep, who lies spellbound until the true champion +comes to rescue her, and the two go forth together, +to return to sleep and diversion, oh, never more."</p> + + +<p><br />This is the note throughout the Journal; the record +of work, the prayer for strength. Yet the friskiness was +there; no one but herself would have had less of it.</p> + +<p>She had already entered the happy estate of grandmotherhood, +and enjoyed it to the full. New songs +must be made for the little new people, new games invented. +We see her taking a grandchild's hands in +hers, and improvising thus:—</p> + +<p> +"We have two hands,<br /> +To buckle bands!<br /> +We have ten fingers,<br /> +To make clotheswringers!<br /> +We have two thumbs,<br /> +To pick up crumbs!<br /> +We have two heels,<br /> +To bob for eels!<br /> +We have ten toes,<br /> +To match our nose!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>If the child be tired or fretful, "Hush!" says the +grandmother. "Be good, and I will play you the 'Canarybird's +Funeral.'" Off they go to the piano, and the +"Canarybird's Funeral" is improvised, and must be +played over and over, for this and succeeding grandchildren. +For them, too, she composed the musical +drama of "Flibbertigibbet," which she was to play +and recite for so many happy children, and grown folks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145b" id="Page_145b">[145]</a></span> +too. Flibbertigibbet was a black imp who appeared +one day in the market-place, and playing a jig on his +fiddle, set all the people dancing whether they would +or no. She played the jig, and one did not wonder +at the people. Next came Flibbertigibbet's march, +which he played on his way to prison; his melancholy, +as he sat in durance; the cats on the roof of his prison; +finally, entrance of the benevolent fairy, who whisks +him off in a balloon to fairyland. All these, voice +and piano gave together: nobody who heard "Flibbertigibbet" +ever forgot it. She set Mother Goose +to music for the grandchildren; singing of Little Boy +Blue, and the Man in the Moon. She thought these +nursery melodies among her best compositions; from +time to time, however, other and graver airs came to +her, dreamed over the piano on summer evenings, or in +twilight walks among the Newport meadows. Some of +these airs were gathered and published in later years.<a name="FNanchor_108_108" id="FNanchor_108_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a></p> + + +<p><br />In May of this year she notes the closing of a life +long associated with hers.</p> + +<p>"<i>May 24.</i> Laura Bridgman died to-day at about +12 <span class="smcap">M.</span> This event brings with it solemn suggestions, +which my overcrowded brain cannot adequately follow. +Her training was a beautiful out-blossoming from +the romance of my husband's philanthropy. She has +taught a great lesson in her time, and unfortunates of +her sort are now trained, without question of the result. +This was to S. G. H. an undiscovered country in the +first instance. I cannot help imagining him as standing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146b" id="Page_146b">[146]</a></span> +before the face of the Highest and pointing to his +work: happy, thrice happy man, with all his sorrow!"</p> + + +<p><br />The close of her seventieth year was a notable milestone +on the long road. May found her still carrying +full sail; a little more tired after each exertion, a little +puzzled at the occasional rebellion of "Sister Body," +her hard-worked "A.B.,"; but not yet dreaming of +taking in a reef.</p> + +<p>The seventieth birthday was a great festival. Maud, +inviting Oliver Wendell Holmes to the party, had +written, "Mamma will be <i>seventy years young</i> on the +27th. Come and play with her!"</p> + +<p>The Doctor in his reply said, "It is better to be +seventy years young than forty years old!"</p> + +<p>Dr. Holmes himself was now eighty years old. It +was in these days that she went with Laura to call on +him, and found him in his library, a big, bright room, +looking out on the Charles River, books lining the +walls, a prevailing impression of atlases and dictionaries +open on stands. The greeting between the two +was pleasant to see, their talk something to remember. +"Ah, Mrs. Howe," said the Autocrat, "you at +seventy have much to learn about life. At eighty you +will find new vistas opening in every direction!"</p> + +<p>Ten years later she was reminded of this. "It is +true!" she said.</p> + +<p>At parting he kissed her, which touched her deeply.</p> + +<p>He was in another mood when they met at a reception +shortly after this. "Ah! Mrs. Howe," he said, +"you see I still hang on as one of the old wrecks!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147b" id="Page_147b">[147]</a></span>"Yes, you are indeed <i>Rex</i>!" was the reply.</p> + +<p>"Then, Madam," he cried with a flash, "you are +<i>Regina</i>!"</p> + +<p>To return to the birthday! Here are a few of the +letters received:—</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>From George William Curtis</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">West New Brighton, Staten Island, N.Y.</span>, +<br /> +May 9, 1889. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Elliott</span>,—</p> + +<p>I shall still be too lame to venture so far away from +home as your kind invitation tempts me to stray, but +no words of my regard and admiration for Mrs. Howe +will ever limp and linger. I doubt if among the hosts +who will offer their homage upon her accession to the +years of a ripe youth there will be many earlier friends +than I, and certainly there will be none who have +watched her career with more sympathy in her varied +and humane activities. Poet, scholar, philanthropist, +and advocate of true Democracy, her crown is more +than triple, and it is her praise as it may well be +her pride to have added fresh lustre to the married +name she bears.</p> + +<p>I am sincerely sorry that only in this inadequate +way can I join my voice to the chorus of friendly rejoicing +and congratulation on the happy day, which +reminds us only of the perpetual youth of the warm +heart and the sound mind.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Very truly yours, +<br /> +<span class="smcap">George William Curtis</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148b" id="Page_148b">[148]</a></span><i>From W. W. Story</i></p> + +<blockquote><p> +<span class="smcap">My dear Julia</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>(I suppose I may still call you so—we are both so +young and inexperienced) I cannot let this anniversary +of your birth go by, without stretching out my +hands to you across the ocean, and throwing to you all +they can hold of good wishes, and affectionate thought, +and delightful memories. Though years have gone +by since I have seen you, you are still fresh, joyous, +and amusing, and charming as ever. Of this I am fully +persuaded, and often I look into that anxious mirror +of my mind, and see you and wander with you, and +jest with you and sing with you, as I used in the olden +days; and never will I be so faithless as to believe +that you are any older than you were—and I hope +earnestly you are no wiser and that a great deal of +folly is still left in you—as it is, I am happy to say, +in me.</p> + +<p>For, after all, what is life worth when its folly is all +departed? When we have grown wise and sad as +well as old—it is time to say Good-bye. But that +time has not come for us yet. So let us still shout +<i>Evviva</i>!</p> + +<p>I do not mention the fact of your age,—I don't +know it,—but if I should guess, from what I know +I should say twenty-five. I was twenty-eight when +I left America—and that is such a few months ago—and +I know you were born somewhat about the +same time.</p> + +<p>You will receive a great many congratulations and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149b" id="Page_149b">[149]</a></span> +expressions of friendship, but none more sincere than +those of</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Your old friend—I mean<br /> +Your young friend,<br /> +<span class="smcap">W. W. Story</span>. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rome, Palazzo Barberini</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">May</span> 10, 1889. +</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>From James Russell Lowell</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +68 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street</span>,<br /> +13th <span class="smcap">May</span>, 1889. +</div> + +<p>Dear Mrs. Howe,— +</p> + +<p>I shouldn't have suspected it, but if you say so, I +am bound to believe this improbability, as absurd as +Leporello's Catalogue for its numerals. If it be so—I +beg pardon—since it is so, I am glad that you are +going to take it cheerfully as who should say to Time, +"Another turn of the glass, please, my young friend, +I'm writing." But alas, I can't be there to take a glass +with you. You say, "if there be no obstacle." No +less than a couple of thousand miles of water, harder +to get over than the years themselves, which indeed +get behind more swiftly than they ought. I can at +least wish you many happy returns of the day and will +drink to your health on the 27th. I sail on the 18th.</p> + +<p>Pray accept my thanks and regrets and make them +acceptable to your children.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Faithfully yours,<br /> +<span class="smcap">James Russell Lowell</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The Journal thus notes the occasion.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150b" id="Page_150b">[150]</a></span>"My seventieth birthday. A very busy day for all +of us.... My head was dressed at eleven. All my +children were here, with daughter- and sons-in-law. +I had many lovely gifts. The house was like a garden +of costly flowers. Breakfast was at 12.30; was in very +good style. Guests: General Walker, John S. Dwight, +E. E. Hale, Mrs. Jack Gardner, Mmes. Bell, Pratt, +and Agassiz. Walker made the first speech at the +table, H. M. H.<a name="FNanchor_109_109" id="FNanchor_109_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> being toastmaster. Walker seemed to +speak very feelingly, calling me the first citizeness of +the country; stood silent a little and sat down. Dwight +read a delightful poem; Hale left too soon to do anything. +H. introduced J. S. D. thus: 'Sweetness and +light, your name is Dwight.' While we sat at table, +baskets and bouquets of wonderful flowers kept constantly +arriving; the sweet granddaughters brought +them in, in a sort of procession lovely to see. It rained +in the afternoon, but the house was thronged with +visitors, all the same."</p> + +<p>A sober entry, written the next day, when she was +"very tired, with a delightful fatigue": but on the +day itself she was gay, enjoying her "party" to the +full, treasuring every flower, wondering why people +were so good to her.</p> + +<p>The festivities lasted several days, for every one +wanted to "play Birthday" with her. The New England +Woman's Club gave her a luncheon, which she +valued next to the home celebration; the blind children +of the Perkins Institution must hear her speak, +and in return sing some of her songs, and give her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151b" id="Page_151b">[151]</a></span> +flowers, clustering round her with tender, groping fingers +that sought to clasp hers. Moreover, the last week +of May is Anniversary Week in Boston. Suffragists, +women ministers, Unitarians, "uplifters" of every +description, held their meetings (traditionally in a +pouring rain) and one and all wanted Mrs. Howe.</p> + +<p>"I have said to God on every morning of these busy +days: 'Give me this day,' and He has given them all: +<i>i.e.</i>, He has given me power to fulfil the task appointed +for each."</p> + +<p>When she finally got to Newport, she was "dazed +with the quiet after the strain of heart and fatigue."</p> + +<p>The ministry was much in her mind this summer.</p> + +<p>"I take for my guidance a new motto: 'I will ascend'; +not in my ambition, but in my thoughts and +aims."</p> + +<p>"A dry Sunday, <i>i.e.</i>, no church, it being the women's +turn to go. I shelled peas for dinner. Began Rambaud's +'History of Russia.'... I think of two sermons +to write, one, 'A spirit of Power'; one, 'Behold, +I show you a more excellent way.'"</p> + +<p>Suffrage had its meed too in these summer days.</p> + +<p>"Have copied my Call for the Congress. In my +coming suffrage talks will invite women to study the +history of their sex in the past, and its destiny in the +future; inertia and ignorance are the great dangers of +society. The old condition of women largely increased +instead of diminishing these sources of evil. The women +were purposely kept ignorant, in order that they +might be enslaved and degraded. Inertia is largely +fostered by the paralysis of independent action...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152b" id="Page_152b">[152]</a></span>"I feel just now that we ought to try hard to have +all the Far West represented at the Denver Congress."</p> + +<p>"Thought a book or article about 'Fooleries' would +be entertaining and instructive. The need of this element +in human society is shown by the ancient jesters +and court fools.... In Bible times Samson made +sport for the Philistines. People now do their own +dancing and their own fooling: some of it very dull. +Query: What ancient jests have been preserved? 'The +Fools of old and of all time' would not be a bad title."</p> + + +<p><br />In October came the Woman's Congress in Denver; +she was there, "attending all meetings and sessions."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. ——'s paper on 'The Redemptive Power +of Art' was very so-so, and did not touch my conception +of the theme, viz., art made valuable for the +reform of criminals. I spoke of this with warmth."</p> + +<p>After the Congress "the visiting ladies enjoyed a +drive about the city of Denver. I went early to the +High School with A. A. B.<a name="FNanchor_110_110" id="FNanchor_110_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> Found Mrs. Cheney +speaking to the pupils assembled. She did not notice +our entrance and spoke of me very warmly. Presently, +turning round, she saw us and we all laughed. I spoke +to them of my 'drink of youth'; compared the spirits +of youth to steam given to carry them on a celestial +railroad; compared youth to wine in a beautiful vase; +spoke of ancient libations to the gods; our libation to +be poured to the true Divine; urged them not to starve +their studies in order to feed their amusements. 'Two +ways of study, one mean, the other generous.' Told<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153b" id="Page_153b">[153]</a></span> +them not to imitate savages, who will barter valuable +land for worthless baubles; not so to barter their opportunities +for barren pleasures."</p> + +<p>She preached at Unity Church Sunday morning.</p> + +<p>"At Grace Church [Methodist] in the afternoon. +Spoke to the text, 'God hath not left himself without +a witness.' This witness is in every human heart; which, +with all its intense desires, desires most of all, law, +order, religion.... I applied my text to the coming +out into the new territories; a rough Exodus stimulated +by the love of gold; but with the army of fortune-seekers +go faithful souls, and instead of passing +out of civilization, they extend its bounds. 'Praise +waiteth for thee in Zion'—yes, but the Prophet says: +'The solitary places shall be glad for them,' et cetera. +I set this down for future use."</p> + + +<p><br />The Denver people were most friendly, and she +enjoyed the visit greatly. Thence she stepped westward +once more, lecturing and preaching as she went, +everywhere welcomed with cordial warmth, everywhere +carrying her ministry with her.</p> + +<p>"A sweet young mother was dreadfully plagued +with two babies; I helped her as much as I could."</p> + +<p>"A delicate young woman was travelling with her +father, a boy of five years, and a semi-friend, semi-help, +not much of either. This party sat opposite me +in the Pullman, and soon made acquaintance. She is +going for her health from Tacoma to California. An +odd-looking genius, something like —— in his +youth, got in somewhere and attracted my attention<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154b" id="Page_154b">[154]</a></span> +by his restless manner. I took him for no good; a gambler, +perhaps. He seemed to notice me a good deal....</p> + +<p>"Made acquaintance with the odd-looking young +man. He is a timber-land broker. He had noticed me +because I reminded him of his mother. We became +friends. He told me his story. He brought another +gentleman, a man more of society than himself, and +we and Mrs. Campbell played whist. We were quite +gay all day. In the evening a sad, elderly man whom +I had observed, came over and showed me his wife's +photograph as she had looked in health, and then a +photograph of her in her last illness; he holding her +up in his arms. He said he was travelling to help his +sorrow.</p> + +<p>"At Reading my two whist gentlemen cried out, +'<i>Tamales!</i>' and rushed out. They presently returned, +bringing some curious Mexican eatables, corn meal +with chicken and red peppers rolled in corn leaves. +These folk all left at Sacramento at three in the morning."</p> + + +<p><br />California was once more her goal. This second visit +was brief and hurried.</p> + +<p>"Hurry, scurry to dress for the Forefathers' Day +celebration. Oakley was my squire. I was taken down +to dinner by Professor Moore, President of the occasion.... +I was suddenly and unexpectedly called +for, and all were requested to rise, which was a great +honor done me. I spoke of two Congregationalists +whom I had known, Antoinette Blackwell, of whose +ordination I told; then of Theodore Parker, of whom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155b" id="Page_155b">[155]</a></span> +I said, 'Nothing that I have heard here is more Christian +than what I heard from him.' I told of his first +having brought into notice the hymn, 'Nearer, My +God, to Thee,' and said that I had sung it with him; +said that in advising with all women's clubs, I always +urged them to include in their programmes pressing +questions of the day. Was much applauded.... They +then sang the 'Battle Hymn' and we adjourned."</p> + + +<p><br />She spent Christmas with Sister Annie, in great +contentment; her last word before starting for home +is, "Thank God for much good!"</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Boston.</span> +</div> + +<p>I reached Boston very comfortably on Monday +night about eleven o'clock. I was slower than usual +[on the journey] in making friends with those around +me, but finally thought I would speak to the pleasant-looking +woman on my left. She had made acquaintance +with the people who had the two sections behind +mine. I had observed a gaunt young man going back +and forth, with a look on his face which made me say +to my friend in Number Nine: "That man must have +committed a murder." Who do you think he turned +out to be? Lieutenant Ripley, of the Vandalia, U.S.N., +the great ship which went to pieces on the Samoan +reef. I, of course, determined to hear about it from +his own lips, and we had a most interesting talk. He +is very slight, but must be all nerve and muscle. All +the sailors in the top in which he was clinging for his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156b" id="Page_156b">[156]</a></span> +life fell off and were drowned. He held on till the Trenton +came down upon them, when, with the others who +were saved in other parts of the rigging, he crept along +a hawser and somehow reached the Trenton. Fearing +that she would go to pieces, he started with fifteen +sailors to swim ashore—he alone was saved—he says +he is much practised in swimming. I spoke of this all +as a dreadful experience. "Yes," said he, with a twinkle +in his eye, "but the storm cleared out the Germans for +us." He was thrown ashore insensible, but soon recovered +consciousness—had been naked and without +food for thirty-six hours. Took a cup of coffee in one +hand, and a cup of brandy in the other, and swallowed +a little from each alternately, his refection lasting +from nine in the evening till one o'clock at night....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"> +<i>To the same</i> +</p> + +<blockquote><p>We have not seen the sun in some days. I hope that +he has shined upon you. Item, I have almost finished +my anxious piece of work for the N.Y. "Evening +Post," after which I shall say, "Now, frolic, soul, with +thy coat off!"</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />In January, 1890, she "heard young Cram<a name="FNanchor_111_111" id="FNanchor_111_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_111_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> explain +Tristram and Iseult,' and young Prescott execute some +of the music. It seemed to me like <i>broken china</i>, no +complete chord; no perfect result; no architectonic."</p> + +<p>She never learned to like what was in those days +"the new music." Wagner and Brahms were anathema +to her, as to many another music-lover of her time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157b" id="Page_157b">[157]</a></span> +notably John Sullivan Dwight, long-time Boston's +chief musical critic. Many a sympathetic talk they +had together; one can see him now, his eyes burning +gentle fire, head nodding, hands waving, as he denounced +what seemed to him wanton cacophony. She +avoided the Symphony Concerts at which "the new +music" was exploited; but it was positive pain to +her to miss a symphony of Beethoven or Schubert.</p> + +<p>In March of this year the Saturday Morning Club +of Boston gave a performance of the "Antigone" of +Sophocles.</p> + +<p>"In afternoon to the second representation of the +'Antigone.'... On the whole very pathetic and powerful. +Mrs. Tilden full of dramatic fire; Sally Fairchild +ideally beautiful in dress, attitude, and expression. +The whole a high feast of beauty and of poetry. The +male parts wonderfully illusive, especially that of +Tiresias, the seer...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +241 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street, Boston</span>,<br /> + +April 26, 1890. +</div> + +<p>I'se very sorry for unhandsome neglect complained +of in your last. What are we going to do about it? I +have now and then made efforts to reclaim the old +Party, but have long considered her incorrigible. +What shall we say, then? "Where sin doth abound, +Grace shall much more abound," or words to that +effect, are recorded of one Paul, of whom I have no +mean opinion. So, there's Scripture for you, do you +see? As I wrote you yes'day or day before, things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158b" id="Page_158b">[158]</a></span> +have been <i>hoppy</i> here since my return. The elder +Agassiz used to mention in his lectures the <i>Lepidoptera</i>, +and I think that's the creature (insect, I b'lieve) which +infests Boston. What I have hopped for, and whither +to, I cannot in the least remember. Flossy was here, +as you know, and I hop't for her. I also 'tended two +of the festival Oratorios, which were fine, but to me +very fatiguing. I find that I must take public amusements, +when I do take them, in the afternoon, as in +the evening bodily fatigue overmasters even the æsthetic +sense, and it is not worth while to pay a large +price for the pleasure of wishing one's self at home.... +The benefit at Boston Museum for the Vincent Hospital +netted over $1600. It was a brilliant success, +but I caught there the first cold I have had since my +return from the Far West. Maud is very busy with +the flower table, which she has undertaken, <i>having +nothing to do</i>. This is for the Vincent Fair, which +will take place on Tuesday, 29th.... Have got a few +lovely books from Libbie's sale of the Hart collection—among +other things, a fine French edition of "Les +Misérables," which I am at last glad never to have +read, as I shall enjoy it, <i>D.V.</i>, in some of the long +reading days of summer....</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Your ownty donty<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ma</span>. +</div> + +<p>P.S. Before the Libbie sale I wickedly bid $25 upon +a small but very precious missal. It brought $825!!</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />When she reached Oak Glen in mid-June, she felt a +"constant discouragement"; was lonely, and missed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159b" id="Page_159b">[159]</a></span> +the cheerful converse of her club and suffrage friends. +"My work seems to me to amount to nothing at all." +She soon revived, and "determined to fulfil in due +order all the tasks undertaken for this summer; so +attacked the Kappa poem and wrote at a stretch +twenty-two verses, of four lines each, which was +pretty much my day's work. Read in Martineau, in +J. F. C., a little Greek, and the miserable 'Les Misérables.'"</p> + +<p>She decided to hold some conversations in the Unitarian +parsonage, and wrote out the following topics +for them:—</p> + +<p>"Useful undertakings in this city as existing and +needed."</p> + +<p>"How to promote public spirit in American men and +women."</p> + +<p>"How to attain a just average estimate of our own +people."</p> + +<p>"How far is it wise to adopt the plan of universal +reading for ourselves and our young people?"</p> + +<p>"In what respects do the foreign civilizations retard, +in what do they promote the progress of our own +civilization?"</p> + +<p>In August she preached to the women in Sherborn +Prison, choosing a "text of cheer and uplifting: 'Thine +is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory.' Read +part of Isaiah 40th. Said that I had wished to bring +them some word of comfort and exhilaration. Pointed +out how the Lord's Prayer begins with solemn worship +and ascription, aspiring to God's Kingdom, praying +for daily bread and for deliverance from temptation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160b" id="Page_160b">[160]</a></span> +and all evil; at the close it rises into this joyous strain, +'Thine is the kingdom,' et cetera. Tried to show how +the kingdom is God, the great providential order, before +and beyond all earthly government; then the +power, that of perfect wisdom and goodness, the power +to know and rule all things, to be everywhere and ever +present, to regulate the mighty sweep of stars and +planets, and, at the same time, to take note of the +poorest and smallest of us; the glory first of the visible +universe, glory of the day and night, of the seasons, +glory of the redeeming power of truth, glory of the inexhaustible +patience, of boundless compassion and love."</p> + +<p>She enjoyed the visit to the prison and was thankful +for it.</p> + +<p>A few days later, at a meeting in Newport, she heard +a lady demand that the children of genius should be +set apart from others for special education and encouragement, +receiving a pension even in their early +years. She demanded colleges of genius, and a retreat +for people of genius. By thus fostering juvenile promise, +we should produce giants and demigods.</p> + +<p>"I, being called upon, gave the card house a tolerable +shaking, and, I think, brought it down, for which +several people thanked me."</p> + +<p>Vividly as she lived in the present, the past was +never far from her.</p> + +<p>"Had in the morning at first waking a very vivid +mind-picture of my sweet young mother lying dead, +with two or three of us little ones standing about her. +My brother Henry, two years my senior, laid his little +hand upon her forehead and said: 'It is as cold as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161b" id="Page_161b">[161]</a></span> +stone,' or some such comparison. I felt strangely, this +morning, the very pain and agony of that moment, +preceding the tragical vision of a life in which that +central point of nurture, a mother's affection and wisdom, +has been wanting. The scene in my mind was +only a vivid reminiscence of what actually took place, +which I never forgot, but I had not felt it as I did +to-day in many years."</p> + +<p>Perhaps at heart she was always the little child +who used to say to herself at night, "Now I will +stretch out and make myself as long as I can, so that +the robbers will think I am a grown-up person, and +perhaps then they will not touch me!" "Then," she +told us, "I would stretch myself out at full length, +and go to sleep."</p> + +<p>She was reading Martineau's "Study of Religion" +this summer with close attention and deep interest. +His writings gave her unfailing delight. His portrait +hung in her room; on her desk lay always a slender +volume of his "Prayers," her favorite passages marked +in pencil. When Louise Chandler Moulton lay dying, +the best comfort she could devise for her was the loan +of this precious little volume.</p> + +<p>The "Study of Religion" is not light reading. We +find now and then: "Head threatening. Will not +tackle Martineau to-day"; and again: "My head is +possessed with my study of Martineau. Had a moment's +realizing sense this morning of the universe as +created and constantly re-created by the thought of +the will of God. The phrase is common enough: the +thought, vast beyond human conception."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162b" id="Page_162b">[162]</a></span>When her head was clear, she studied the great +theologian eagerly, copying many passages for more +complete assimilation.</p> + +<p>September brought "alarums and excursions."</p> + +<p>"Awoke and sprang at once into the worry saddle."</p> + +<p>Another Congress was coming, another "A.A.W." +paper to be written, beside an opening address for the +Mechanics' Fair, and "1500 words for Bok," on some +aspect of the American woman.</p> + +<p>She went to Boston for the opening of the Mechanics' +Fair, and sat beside Phillips Brooks in the +great hall. "They will not hear us!" she said. "No," +replied Brooks. "This is the place where little children +are <i>seen</i> and not <i>heard</i>."</p> + +<p>"Mayor Hart backed up the Tariff while I praised +Free Trade. My text was two words of God: 'Use +and Beauty.' My brief address was written carefully +though hastily."</p> + +<p>There was no neighborly electric road in Rhode +Island in those days, and the comings and goings were +fatiguing.</p> + +<p>"A hard day.... The rain was pitiless, and I in +my best clothes, and without rubbers. Embraced a +chance of driving to the Perry House, where ... it +was cold and dark. I found a disconsolate couple from +Schenectady who had come to Newport for a day's +pleasuring. Did my best to entertain them, walking +about the while to keep warm."</p> + +<p>She got home finally, and the day ends with her +ordering a warm mash for the horse.</p> + +<p>This horse, Ha'pence, a good and faithful beast,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163b" id="Page_163b">[163]</a></span> +ran a great danger this summer. The coachman, +leaving in dudgeon, poisoned the oats with Paris green, +a diabolical act which the Journal chronicles with +indignation. Fortunately the deed was discovered in +time.</p> + +<p>She was always thoughtful of animals. During the +reign at 241 Beacon Street of the little fox-terrier +Patch, it often fell to her lot to take him out to walk, +and she felt this a grave responsibility.</p> + +<p>One day Patch ran away on Beacon Street, and +would not come back when she called him. At this +instant Dr. Holmes, passing, paused for a friendly +greeting.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Howe," he said, "I trust this fine morning—"</p> + +<p>"<i>Catch the dog!</i>" cried Mrs. Howe. One author flew +one way, one the other; between the two Patch was +caught and brought in triumph home.</p> + +<p>One dog story recalls another. She was in the North +Station one day, about to start for Gardiner, as was +also the setter Diana, crated and very unhappy.</p> + +<p>"Here, Auntie!" said the baggage-master; "you +set here and be company for the dog, and I'll get your +check!"</p> + +<p>She complied meekly, and was found somewhat +later by her escort, "being company" for a much-comforted +Diana.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164b" id="Page_164b">[164]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>A SUMMER ABROAD</h3> + +<h4>1892-1893; <i>aet.</i> 73-74</h4> + +<p> +Methinks my friends grow beauteous in my sight,<br /> +As the years make their havoc of sweet things;<br /> +Like the intenser glory of the light<br /> +When the sad bird of Autumn sits and sings.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ah! woe is me! ah! Memory,</span><br /> +Be cheerful, thanking God for things that be.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + + +<p><br />The longing to revisit England and enjoy another +"whiff" of a London season was gratified in the summer +of 1892. Accompanied by the Elliotts and a +granddaughter, she sailed for Liverpool on the 4th of +June; "a day of almost inconceivable pressure and +labor. I could not waste one minute, yet could not +do some of the simplest things which I intended to do. +Our departure was tolerably decorous and comfortable."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 13.</i> <i>At sea.</i> Have enjoyed some good reading, +and have read one book, 'Bel Ami,' by Guy de +Maupassant, which I found so objectionable that I +had to skip whole passages of mere sensual description. +My loathing of the book and its personages will +keep me from encountering again the filth of this +author...."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 16.</i> <i>Chester.</i> Attended service in the Cathedral. +I first came to Chester as a bride, forty-nine +years ago; then in 1867 with dear Chev, Julia, and +Laura; in 1877 with dear Maud; and now with Maud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165b" id="Page_165b">[165]</a></span> +and her husband and my dear grandchild, Alice Richards. +These three periods in my woman's life gave me +much to think of."</p> + +<p><br />June 18 found the party established in pleasant +lodgings in Albion Street, Hyde Park, where they were +soon surrounded by friends old and new.</p> + +<p>"<i>June 21</i>.... In the afternoon Lady Aberdeen, +Arthur Mills, and Henry Harland visited me. A. M.'s +hair is quite white. It was only iron grey when we last +met, thirteen years ago."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 22.</i> Mrs. Brooke Herford wrote to ask me +to come out this afternoon to meet Mrs. Humphry +Ward. The Albert Hall performance very interesting. +Lord Aberdeen sent his carriage for us. My seat was +next to that of the Countess, who appeared in a very +fine dress of peach-blossom corded silk, with white +lace draperies—on my left was Lord Brooke. Lady +Aberdeen introduced me to Lord Kenmare and Dr. +Barnardo. The singing of the children, a band of +rescued waifs, moved me to tears. The military drill +of the boys and the Maypole dance of the girls were +very finely done. There are more than 4000 of these +children in Barnardo Homes."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 23.</i> To the first view of the Society of English +Portrait Painters. Portraits on the whole well +worth seeing—Herkomers <i>very</i> good, also Mrs. Anna +Lea Merritt's and others. A superb portrait of Cardinal +Manning, in full red and ermine. In the evening +Lady Aberdeen sent her carriage for me and I went +with her to a meeting of the Liberal League, at which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166b" id="Page_166b">[166]</a></span> +she spoke with a pleasant playfulness, dwelling somewhat +upon the position that Home Rule, if given to +Ireland, would do away with the ill-feeling of the Irish +in America towards England. To lunch with Lady +Aberdeen. Lief Jones came into the meeting while +Lady Aberdeen was speaking, and with him Lady +Carlisle. She shook hands with me very cordially. +Presently Lief Jones began his address, which was +quite lengthy, presenting the full platform of the Liberal +Party. He is a brisk, adroit speaker, and made +points in favor of Woman Suffrage, of Home Rule, of +the disestablishment of the Anglican Church in Wales +and Scotland, of the eight-hour labor law, of the purchase +of the waterworks, now owned by eight companies +in the city."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 24.</i> The lunch at Lady Aberdeen's was very +pleasant. Mrs. Eva McLaren<a name="FNanchor_112_112" id="FNanchor_112_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_112_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a> talked with me, as +did Miss Ferguson. The American Minister, Robert +Lincoln,<a name="FNanchor_113_113" id="FNanchor_113_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_113_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> was introduced to me and was very friendly."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 25.</i> Went to Toynbee Hall by Whitechapel +'bus. Had received a note, which I supposed to be +from a lady, offering to show me over the institution. +We were shown into a large room, bare of carpet, but +with some pictures and bric-à-brac. After waiting +half an hour, a young gentleman made his appearance, +a Mr. Ames—the letter had been from him. He +showed me Mr. Charles [not General] Booth's map +of gradations of wealth and poverty in London. The +distinctions are marked by colors and shades of color—criminal +centres designated by black. In the afternoon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167b" id="Page_167b">[167]</a></span> +to Sarasate's concert, all violin and piano-forte, +but very fine."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 26.</i> To hear Stopford Brooke in the morning, +an interesting sermon.... He called the Agnostics +and Nirvanists a type found in many classes, but +not a class...."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 27.</i> To lunch with Mrs. Harland. <i>Very</i> +pleasant. Edmund Gosse was the guest invited to +meet me. He was vivacious, easy, and agreeable. Also +the composer Marzials...."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 28.</i> To Westminster Abbey. To Alice, its interest +seemed inexhaustible. It is so, indeed, had one +time to be 'strewing violets all the time,' as E. B. B. +said. Longfellow's bust has been placed there since +my last visit; the likeness is good. I wandered about +as long as my feet would carry me, thinking sometimes +of Gray's question, 'Can storied urn,' etc. The +Harlands came later and brought the composer of +'Twickenham Ferry.' With Alice to dine at Toynbee +Hall. A pleasant dinner. A bright young man, Bruce +by name, related to Abyssinian Bruce, took Alice in +to dinner—sitting afterwards in Ames's room, where +we met an alderman, a bricklayer, a trades' unionist; +later, we heard a lecture from Commander Gladstone, +on the Norman-Breton churches, with fine stereoscopic +plates. A violent storm came on, but we managed +to ''bus it' home, taking a cab only at Marble +Arch."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 29.</i> To dine with the Greek Minister at eight +o'clock, and to the <i>soirée</i> of the Academy.</p> + +<p>"To Chelsea, to call upon Mrs. Oscar Wilde....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168b" id="Page_168b">[168]</a></span> +He showed me with pride a fine boy of five years. We +had some talk of old times, of his visit to America; +I reminded him of the vermilion balcony at which +he laughed." [Wilde had complained that the usual +pronunciation of these words was prosaic.]</p> + +<p>"<i>June 30....</i> Mrs. Oscar Wilde asks us to take +tea on Thursday; she has invited Walter Pater.... +Have writ to James Bryce."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 2.</i> To see Oscar Wilde's play, 'Lady Windermere's +Fan,' at St. James's Theatre. We went by invitation +to his box, where were Lady Wilde and Mrs. +Oscar. The play was perfectly acted, and is excellent +of its kind, the <i>motif</i> not new, but the <i>dénouement</i> +original in treatment. After the play to call on Lady +Rothschild, then to Constance Flower,<a name="FNanchor_114_114" id="FNanchor_114_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_114_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a> who showed +us her superb house full of treasures of art."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 4.</i> Mrs. [Edmund] Gosse came and took us +to Alma-Tadema's beautiful house and garden. He +met us very cordially. Mrs. Smalley came. She was +Wendell Phillips's adopted daughter. I had a pleasant +talk with her and with Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, +whom I charged with a friendly message to Thomas +himself. After this to Minister Lincoln's Fourth of +July reception. Harry White, Daisy Rutherford's +husband, was introduced."</p> + +<p>Elsewhere she says of this visit to Alma-Tadema:—</p> + +<p>"His charming wife, once seen, explains some of the +features of his works. She has yellow hair of the richest +color; her eyes also have a primrose tint, while her +complexion has a pale bloom of its own, most resembling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169b" id="Page_169b">[169]</a></span> +that of a white rose. She gave us tea from +lozenge-shaped cups, with saucers to match. In the +anteroom below we admired a painting by her own +hand, of yellow jonquils and a yellow fan, on a dark +background. Her husband seemed pleased when we +praised this picture. So these two artists occupy their +golden nest peaceably, and do not tear each other's +laurels.</p> + +<p>"Let me say here that the passion for the golden +color still prevails. In dress, in furniture, in porcelain, +it is the prevailing favorite. Long banished from the +social rainbow, it now avenges itself for years of neglect, +and, as every dog must have his day, we will say +that the yellow dog is now to have his, and that the +dog-star of this coming August will certainly be of his +color."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 6.</i> With Maud to Liberty's, where she beguiled +me, alas! into buying a fine black silk mantle +for six guineas. To Nutt's in the Strand for my Greek +books. He had only the 'Nicomathean Ethics,' a fine +edition which I bought for twelve shillings. Then to +Poole's in Hallowell Street, where bought two editions +of Aristotle's 'Government,' with English notes. At +Poole's found a copy of Schiller's 'Robbers,' which I +bought for threepence."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 7.</i> Afternoon tea with Mrs. Oscar, meeting +an aunt of Mrs. Wilde's, and Mrs. Burne-Jones. The +aunt had been in Japan—she had known Fenollosa +and Professor Morse. Then to Mrs. Louise Chandler +Moulton, who introduced a number of people, among +them William Sharp, a poet."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170b" id="Page_170b">[170]</a></span>"<i>July 8.</i> I had rashly promised to lunch with the +Brooke Herfords at Hampstead, and to take five-o'clock +tea with Mrs. Rebecca Moore at Bedford Place. +The Herfords were delightful, and Hampstead is a +charming suburb. We saw the outside of Mrs. Barbauld's +house. Herford said much good of Cookson, a +farmer's son whom he had known in England from +his beginnings, a dignified, able, excellent man in his esteem. +From this a long distance to Mrs. Moore. We +reached her in good time, however. Found her alone, +in a pleasant little dwelling. Three ladies came to tea, +which was served quite in state—Stepniak<a name="FNanchor_115_115" id="FNanchor_115_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_115_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> came +also."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 9.</i> To lunch with Lady Henry Somerset. +Some talk with Lady H. about Mrs. Fawcett, et al.: +also concerning Mrs. Martin's intended candidacy for +the presidency of the United States, which, however +futile in itself, we deplore as tending to throw ridicule +upon the Woman's Cause. She thought that the Conservatives +would give women the Parliamentary Suffrage +in England on account of the great number of +women who have joined the Primrose League."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 10.</i> To the Temple Church. The organ voluntaries, +strangely, I thought, were first Chopin's +'Funeral March,' second the 'Dead March' in 'Saul.' +A notable sermon from Dr. Vaughan. The discourse +was really concerned with the political situation of the +moment: the strong division of feeling throughout the +country, and the fears of many lest the doctrine in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171b" id="Page_171b">[171]</a></span> +which they believe should be overthrown. He said +that the real Ark of God was the Church Universal, +which has been defined as the whole company of believing +Christian people throughout the world. Many +changes would occur, but the vital principle of religion +would prove itself steadfast—a truly noble sermon, +worthy of Phillips Brooks."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 12.</i> To the New Gallery in which were two +fine portraits by Herkomer, a superb one of Paderewski +by Tadema, and one of Walter Crane by Watts, +also of distinguished excellence. Later, called upon +the Duchess of Bedford, a handsome woman, sister +to Lady Henry Somerset. We talked of her sister's +visit to the United States. I was well able to praise her +eloquence and her general charm. She has known +Lowell well. We talked of the old London, the old +Boston, both past their palmiest literary days. She +had heard Phillips Brooks at Westminster Abbey; +admired him much, but thought him optimistic."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 14.</i> Was engaged to spend the afternoon at +Mrs. Moulton's reception and to dine with Sebastian +Schlesinger.... Many people introduced to me—Jerome, +author of 'Three Men in a Boat'; Molloy, songwriter; +Theodore Watts, poetical critic of the Athenæum.'... +At the dinner I met Mrs. O'Connor, who +turned out to be a Texan, pretty and very pleasant, +an Abolitionist at the age of six...."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 15.</i>... To the Harlands', where met Theodore +Watts again, and had some good talk with him +about Browning and other friends. Also Walter Besant, +whom I greeted very warmly as 'our best friend.'"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172b" id="Page_172b">[172]</a></span>"<i>July 17.</i> A sermon of surpassing beauty and +power from the dear Bishop of Massachusetts [Phillips +Brooks].... The power and spirit of the discourse +carried me quite away. We waited to speak with him. +I had a dear grasp of the hand from him. I shook my +finger at him and said, 'Is this resting?' He laughed +and said, 'This is the last time. I shall not speak again +until I reach Massachusetts.' I wrote some lines on +coming home, only half expressing my thought, which +was that the mother of so brave a son could not have +had one coward drop of blood in her veins—another +little scrap, too, about the seven devils that Christianity +can cast out. General Walker in the afternoon +and the Harlands to dinner."</p> + + +<p><br />They left London to join Mrs. Terry at Schwalbach, +lingering for a little on the way in Holland and +Belgium.</p> + +<p>"<i>July 27.</i> <i>The Hague.</i> To see Mesdag and his pictures. +Found Mesdag a hale man of perhaps fifty +years—perhaps less; a fine house, and, besides his +own paintings of which we saw a number, a wonderful +collection of pictures, mostly modern French, Troyon, +Corot, Rousseau, Daubigny. Some good things by a +Roman artist, Mancini, whom Mesdag praised highly—he +is very poor, but has some excellent qualities. +A picture of a little girl reclining on a pillow with a +few flowers in her hand, pleased me very much—he +also praised it. Much fine tapestry, china, etc., etc. +He was gruffly pleasant and hospitable."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 28.</i> <i>Antwerp.</i> Visited Cathedral and <i>Musée</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173b" id="Page_173b">[173]</a></span> +Saw my picture, Rubens's Elevation of the Cross, +but felt that my eyesight has dimmed since I last saw +it. Found Félu, the armless artist, in the <i>Musée</i> copying +a picture of Godiva. He was very glad to see us. +Much talk with him about Flemish art. A little ramble +after dinner and a nibble at a bric-à-brac shop, which, +however, did not become a bite."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 31.</i> <i>Cologne.</i> A great concourse of people +awaited the arrival of a steamer with the Arion Musical +Society of New York. Köln choral societies were +represented by fine banners and by members in mediæval +costumes, very picturesque. The steamer came +alongside with many flags, foremost among them our +own dear 'Stars and Stripes.' We waved handkerchiefs +vigorously as these last passed by, and were +saluted by their bearers."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 2.</i> Left Cologne by Rhine steamer. I remember +these boats as crowded, dirty, and very comfortless, +but I found this one as well appointed as need +be. Spent the day mostly on deck enjoying the great +beauty and romance of the trip.... I chilled myself +pretty badly on deck, but stayed up until perhaps +half-past seven. A very young Westphalian on board +astonished us all by his powers of drinking and of +smoking. He talked with me; said, '<i>Sie sind deutsch,</i>' +which I denied."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 3.</i> Reached Schwalbach at three. My dear +sister [Mrs. Terry] came out to greet us. The meeting +was a little tearful, but also cheerful. Much has +passed and passed away in these eventful years.... +Presently Louisa and I were as though we had not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174b" id="Page_174b">[174]</a></span> +been parted at all. She is little changed, and retains +her old grace and charm of manner."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 4.</i> Out early with my sister. We have a +regular and restful plan of living. Meet after dinner, +coffee with my sister at half-past four, supper at half-past +seven, in the evening reading aloud and conversation. +I am miserable with pain, probably rheumatic, +in my left hip. Think I must have got a chill on the +Rhine boat. I say nothing about this. Daisy and +Wintie [Mr. and Mrs. Winthrop Chanler] came this +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 7.</i> To Anglican service with my dear sister. +A dull sermon. The service indifferently read—just +the stereotyped Church of England article. My dreadful +hip joint does not ache to-day, and I am ready to +skip about with joy at the relief even if it prove but +temporary. The pain has been pretty severe and I +have said nought about it, fearing treatment."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 9.</i> Read Aristotle, as I have done all these +days. Took up St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, +with a more distinct view than heretofore of his attitude +relative to them, and theirs to him. Walked out +with my sister, and saw at the bric-à-brac booth near +the Stahlbrunnen a ring composed of a fine garnet, +set with fine diamonds, wonderfully cheap, 136 marks—I +foolishly wanted it."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 16.</i> <i>Heidelberg.</i> To the Castle—an endless +walk and climb. I was here in 1843, a bride, with +dear Chev, my dearest brother Marion, and my cousin, +Henry Hall Ward. We went to the Wolfbrunnen +to breakfast—went on ponies to the Castle, where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175b" id="Page_175b">[175]</a></span> +we wandered at will, and saw the mighty tun. Some +French people were wandering there also, and one of +them, a lady with a sweet soprano voice, sang a song +of which the refrain was: '<i>Comme une étoile au firmament</i>.' +H. H. Ward long after found this song somewhere. +His voice has now been silent for twenty years, +dear Marion's for forty-six, and here I come to-day, +with my grown-up granddaughter, whom dear Chev +only knew as a baby. How long the time seems, and +yet how short! Two generations have grown up since +then in our family. My sister Louisa, then a young +beauty, is here with me, a grandmother with grandchildren +nearly grown. 'So teach us to number our +days.'"</p> + + +<p><br />It seemed to the second and third generations that +the two sisters could hardly have been lovelier in that +far-off springtime than now in the mellow beauty of +their autumn. It was a delight to see them together, a +high privilege to sit by and listen to the interchange +of precious memories:—</p> + +<p>"Do you remember—"</p> + +<p>"And do you remember again—"</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>August 24.</i> <i>Sonnenberg.</i>... At breakfast an elderly +lady seemed to look at me and to smile. I supposed +her to be one of my Club ladies, or some one who had +entertained me, so presently I asked her if she were +'one of my acquaintances.' She replied that she was +not, but would be pleased to make my acquaintance. +We met soon after in one of the corridors; having<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176b" id="Page_176b">[176]</a></span> +incautiously mentioned my name, I asked for hers, +she replied, 'Sforza—Duchess Sforza Cesarini.' She +had been attracted by my Breton caps, and especially +by Daisy's beautiful version of this simple adornment. +She is a reader of Rosmini."<a name="FNanchor_116_116" id="FNanchor_116_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_116_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a></p> + + +<p><br />The Duchess confessed afterward that she had requested +her maid to observe and copy the cap, and +had been somewhat troubled in mind lest she had been +guilty of a constructive discourtesy.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>September 3.</i> Received and answered a letter from +Jenkin Lloyd Jones, informing me of my election to +an Advisory Board to hold a World's Unitarian Congress +at Chicago in September, 1893. I have accepted +this."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 4.</i> My last day at Sonnenberg.... Gave +my sister my little old Greek Lexicon, long a cherished +companion. I had thought of reading the family one +of my sermons, but my throat was troublesome and +no one asked me to do anything of the kind. They +wished to hear 'Pickwick,' and a long reading was held +in my room, the fire in the grate helping to cheer us."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 15.</i> Left Montreux for Paris. Reed +brought me a beautiful yellow rose, half-blown, upon +which I needs must exercise my old trick of versification. +Paper I had none—the back of a pasteboard +box held one stanza, the cover of a Tauchnitz the +others."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177b" id="Page_177b">[177]</a></span>"<i>September 18.</i> Heard to-day of the noble poet, +Whittier's death. What a great heart is gone with +him!"</p> + +<p>"<i>September 22.</i> <i>Liverpool.</i> Embarked at about ten +in the morning. Edward Atkinson, wife and daughter +on board, a valuable addition to our resources."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 29.</i> <i>At sea.</i> I said in my mind: 'There is +nothing in me which can redeem me from despair over +my poor life and wasted opportunities. That redemption +which I seek must be in Thee. There is no progress +in the mere sense of ill-desert. I must pass on +from it to better effort beyond, self-reproach is negative: +woe is me that I was born! Amendment must +have positive ground.' I wrote some lines in which a +bit of sea-weed shining in the sun seemed as an illustration +of the light which I hope to gain."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 30.</i> A performance of Jarley's Wax-works +in the evening was much enjoyed. Edward +Atkinson as Mrs. Partington in my witch hat recited +some merry nonsense of Hood's about European +travel."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 2.</i> <i>Boston.</i> In the early morning John M. +Forbes's yacht, the Wild Duck, hovered around us, +hoping to take off his daughter, Mrs. Russell.... +Quite a number of us embraced this opportunity with +gratitude...."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 3.</i> All seems like a dream."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 7.</i> <i>Newport.</i> I begin my life here with a +prayer that the prolongation of my days on earth may +be for good to myself and others, that I may not sink +into senile folly or grossness, nor yet wander into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178b" id="Page_178b">[178]</a></span> +æsthetic conceit, but carry the weight of my experience +in humility, in all charity, and in a loving and serviceable +spirit."</p> + + +<p><br />The last entry in the Journal for 1892 strikes the +keynote of what was to prove the most absorbing +interest of the coming year.</p> + +<p>"<i>December 31.</i> Farewell, dear 1892. You were +the real <i>quattro</i> centenary of Columbus's discovery, +although we have been so behind time as not to be +ready to celebrate this before 1893. 1492 was indeed +a year momentous to humanity."</p> + + +<p><br />To her many cares was added now work for the +Columbian Exhibition at Chicago. The Woman's +Department of the World's Fair was ably administered +by Mrs. Potter Palmer, who consulted her frequently, +her experiences in the New Orleans Cotton Centennial +proving useful in the Columbian Exhibition. The +"Twelve-o'Clock Talks," so successful in the Crescent +City, were, at her suggestion, repeated at Chicago, +and proved most valuable. The Association for the +Advancement of Women and many other associations +were to meet in Chicago this year. She writes +to the Reverend Jenkin Lloyd Jones concerning the +Parliament of Religions and the Unitarian Congress; +to Aaron Powell touching the Congress on Social +Purity. There are letters, too, about the Alliance +of Unitarian Women, the Congress of Representative +Women, and the Association of Women Ministers +and Preachers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179b" id="Page_179b">[179]</a></span>"<i>January 7.</i> [<i>Boston.</i>] To speak to the Daughters +of the American Revolution at the house of Miss Rebecca +W. Brown. I had dreaded the meeting, feeling +that I must speak of suffrage in connection with the +new womanhood, and anticipating a cold or angry reception. +What was my surprise at finding my words, +which were not many, warmly welcomed! Truly, the +hour is at hand!"</p> + +<p>"<i>January 8.</i> To speak for Dr. Clisby at Women's +Educational and Industrial Union. I had dreaded this, +too, fearing not to interest my audience. The occasion +was very pleasant to me, and, I think, to them; Mrs. +Waters endorsed my estimate of Phillips Brooks as a +perfectly disinterested worker. Mrs. Catlin of New +York agreed in my praise of Bishop Henry C. Potter +on the same grounds; both also spoke well in relation +to my most prominent point—emancipation from the +slavery of self."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 23.</i> Oh! and alas! dear Phillips Brooks +died suddenly this morning at half-past six. Alas! for +Christendom, which he did so much to unite by redeeming +his domain in it from superstition, formalism, +and uncharity. Oh! to have such a reputation, and +<i>deserve it</i>!"</p> + +<p>"<i>March 4.</i> To-day have been allowed to visit the +study of the late dear Bishop of Massachusetts. I took +this pin from his pincushion, to keep for a souvenir. +Made Rosalind write down the names of a number of +the books. The library is a very generous one, comprising +a large sweep of study and opinion. A charming +frieze over the large window had been painted by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180b" id="Page_180b">[180]</a></span> +Mrs. Whitman. We entered with a reverent feeling, +as if in a sacred place.... The dining-room, and his +seat thereat, with portraits of his parents and grandfather. +The mother was of his color, dark of eyes and +hair, strong temperament, otherwise no special resemblance. +His father looked substantial but not +remarkable."</p> + + +<p><br />In mid-May she went to Chicago, to take part in the +World's Congress of Representative Women, and in +many of the other congresses and conferences of that +notable year.</p> + +<p>"<i>May 16.</i> <i>Chicago.</i> Was appointed to preside to-day +over a Report Convention [of the above Congress]; +went to Room 6 of the Art Palace and found +no one. Mrs. Kennard came presently, and Mrs. +Clara B. Colby, who stood by me bravely—when +about a dozen had gathered I opened the meeting. +Mrs. Colby read reports for two associations, British, +I think. A German delegate had a long report written +in German, which it would have been useless for her +to read. She accordingly reported as she was able, in +very funny English, I helping her when she was at a +loss for a word. Her evident earnestness made a good +impression. I reported for A.A.W., partly in writing, +partly <i>extempore</i>. In the evening read my paper +on the Moral Initiative as regards Women. The hall +[of Washington] was frightfully cold."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 17.</i> Going to the Art Palace this afternoon I +found an audience waiting in one of the small halls +with no speaker. Madame C. had engaged to speak on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181b" id="Page_181b">[181]</a></span> +musical education. I was requested to fill the breach, +which I did, telling of the Boston Conservatory of +Music, early music in Boston, and down to our time. +Had an ovation afterwards of friendly handshaking."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 19.</i> Meeting of National Alliance of Unitarian +Women."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 27.</i> My seventy-fourth birthday. Thank God +for my continued life, health, and bodily and mental +powers. My prayer to Him is that, whether I am to +have a year, a month, a week, or a day more, it may +be for good to myself and others.</p> + +<p>"Went to the Columbian Exhibition. Thomas's +Orchestra playing for Mrs. Potter Palmer's reception +given to the women of the Press Association. Later I +went into the model kitchen where tea was served by +the Cingalese. Mrs. Palmer asked me to follow her +brief address with a few words. I did this and told of +its being my birthday, at which Mrs. Palmer gave me +her bouquet of carnations, and the ladies present rose +and waved handkerchiefs. Read my sermon for to-morrow +twice and feared it might not strike a keynote +here."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 28.</i> Rather nervous about getting to town in +time for my service at the Unitarian Church,—we +were in good time. My mind was much exercised about +my prayer, I having decided to offer the longer one, +which I did, I hope, acceptably. I don't think that the +sermon <i>told</i> as it did in Boston. The church is not easy +to speak in. Mr. Fenn said a few words very tenderly +about his pleasure in receiving me into his pulpit. The +pulpit roses were given me."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182b" id="Page_182b">[182]</a></span>"<i>May 29.</i> Went to the Exposition, where met Mrs. +Charlotte Emerson Brown. Went with her to her space +in the Organization Room. She will receive and care +for my exhibits. Saw the very fine collection of club +manuals, histories, etc."<a name="FNanchor_117_117" id="FNanchor_117_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_117_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a></p> + +<p>"<i>May 30.</i> Made a little spurt to begin my screed for +Aaron Powell's meeting on Sunday. Went with dear +Maud and Helen Gardner to the Fair. Side-shows as +follows: Cairo Street, Cairo Theatre, Soudanese dancers +(very black savages wearing top tufts of black hair +or wool, clothed in strips of dirty white cotton cloth), +old Vienna, dinner at Vienna restaurant....</p> + +<p>"The Cairo dancing was simply horrid, no touch of +grace in it, only a most deforming movement of the +whole abdominal and lumbar region. We thought it +indecent. The savages were much better, though they +only stamp their bare feet and clap their hands in +rhythm without music. One had a curious smooth +lyre, which seemed to give no sound. Their teeth were +beautifully white and regular. One of them came up to +me and said, 'Mamma,' as if to indicate my age. Then +into a bark hut, to see the Soudanese baby dance—a +dear little child that danced very funnily to a tum-tum."</p> + +<p>Early June found her back in Boston and hard at +work.</p> + +<p>"<i>June 8.</i> Finished my screed for the July 'Forum.' +Subject, 'A Proper Observance of the Fourth of July.' +I have prayed over this piece of work as over all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183b" id="Page_183b">[183]</a></span> +others which have been strung, one after another, in +this busiest of years for me. I have also despaired of it, +and am not yet sure of its acceptance."</p> + +<p>Next day she felt that she "must see the last of +dear Edwin Booth." The Journal describes his funeral +at length; "the sun perfectly golden behind the +trees." She brought away a bit of evergreen from +the grave, and at church, two days later, "had the +sexton slide it in among the pulpit flowers; afterward +brought it home. Perhaps a silly fancy, but an affectionate +one." She wrote a poem in memory of +Mr. Booth, "not altogether to my satisfaction." +She felt his death as a real loss; he remained always +to her a beautiful and heroic figure, connected with +a great time.</p> + +<p>"<i>June 15.</i> 'Thus far the Lord has led me on.' I have +had many pieces of work to accomplish, and when +almost despairing, seemed to have been uplifted right +into my working seat, and so have fulfilled my tasks +as well as I was able. Have still my Fourth of July +poem to write, and wish to write a poem in memory +of Edwin Booth. I'm hungry, oh! how hungry, for +rest and reading. Must work very hard for A.A.W. +this season...."</p> + +<p>She went to Harvard Class Day this summer, her +eldest grandson, Samuel Prescott Hall, being of the +graduating class; drove out to Cambridge in a pouring +rain, and enjoyed the occasion. "I saw my Boy +march with his fellows; when they cheered Weld, I +waved a napkin."</p> + +<p>The summer sped by on wings of study and work;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184b" id="Page_184b">[184]</a></span> +she was lame, but that gave her the more time for +writing. The Journal records many letters; among +other things, "a short screed for the man who asks +to be convinced that there is such a thing as soul." +In September she spread other wings and flew back +to Chicago for the Parliament of Religions, and some +last Impressions of the Dream City of the World's +Fair.</p> + +<p>"<i>September 23.</i> Went to the Parliament of Religions +where Jenkin Lloyd Jones put me on the platform. +Heard Dr. Momery, who gave a pleasant, liberal, and +spirited address, a little <i>elementary</i>, as he closed by +reciting 'Abou Ben Adhem,' which is as familiar to +Americans as A B C. In the evening went to meet, or +rather find, the women ministers. Miss Chapin excused +herself from attending and asked me to run the meeting.... +I read my short screed, briefly narrating my +own efforts to found an association of women ministers. +Miss Putnam and Mary Graves were appointed as +a committee to consult with me as to a plan of organization."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 26.</i> Up early.... Visited the German +village, castle and museum, the mining, agricultural, +shoe and leather buildings for a brief space. Made a +turn in the Ferris Wheel.... Mary Graves came for +me, and we started for the Parliament in good time. +The first speaker was intolerably narrow and out of +place, insisting upon the hostility of Christ to all ethnic +religions. I could not refrain from taking him up a +little, very mildly. I was received with applause and +the Chautauqua salute, and my brief speech (fourteen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185b" id="Page_185b">[185]</a></span> +minutes without notes) was much applauded. I was +very thankful for this opportunity."</p> + + +<p><br />This impromptu speech made a deep impression. +In the newspaper reports great stress was laid on it, +with singular result. She was amazed next day to hear +her name roared out in the Midway Plaisance by a +touter who stood at the gateway of one of the sideshows +where some Orientals were at prayer.</p> + +<p>"Come in, all ye Christian people," the man cried. +"Come in and see these devout Mohammedans at +their devotions. Julia Ward Howe has knocked the +orthodoxy into a cocked hat."</p> + +<p>The quiet little figure, passing in the motley throng, +paused for a moment and looked with astonishment +into the touter's face, which gave no sign of recognition.</p> + +<p>"This," said a friend, who happened to come up at +the moment,—"this is fame!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186b" id="Page_186b">[186]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>"DIVERS GOOD CAUSES"</h3> + +<h4>1890-1896; <i>aet.</i> 71-77</h4> + +<p>A DREAM OF THE HEARTHSTONE</p> + +<p> +A figure by my fireside stayed,<br /> +Plain was her garb, and veiled her face;<br /> +A presence mystical she made,<br /> +Nor changed her attitude, nor place.<br /> +<br /> +Did I neglect my household ways<br /> +For pleasure, wrought of pen or book?<br /> +She sighed a murmur of dispraise,<br /> +At which, methought, the rafters shook.<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> + +<br /> +"Now, who art thou that didst not smile<br /> +When I my maddest jest devised?<br /> +Who art thou, stark and grim the while<br /> +That men my time and measure prized?"<br /> +<br /> +Without her pilgrim staff she rose,<br /> +Her weeds of darkness cast aside;<br /> +More dazzling than Olympian snows<br /> +The beauty that those weeds did hide.<br /> +<br /> +Most like a solemn symphony<br /> +That lifts the heart from lowly things,<br /> +The voice with which she spake to me<br /> +Did loose contrition at its springs.<br /> +<br /> +"Oh, Duty! Visitor Divine,<br /> +Take all the wealth my house affords,<br /> +But make thy holy methods mine;<br /> +Speak to me thy surpassing words!<br /> +<br /> +"Neglected once and undiscerned,<br /> +I pour my homage at thy feet.<br /> +Till I thy sacred law have learned<br /> +Nor joy, nor life can be complete."<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + + +<p><br />In the closing decade of the nineteenth century a +new growth of "causes" claimed her time and sympathy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187b" id="Page_187b">[187]</a></span> +The year 1891 saw the birth of the Society +of American Friends of Russian Freedom; modelled +on a similar society which, with "Free Russia" as its +organ, was doing good work in England.</p> + +<p>The object of the American society was "to aid by +all moral and legal means the Russian patriots in their +efforts to obtain for their country political freedom +and self-government." Its circular was signed by +Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Julia Ward Howe, +John Greenleaf Whittier, James Russell Lowell, George +Kennan, William Lloyd Garrison, Henry I. Bowditch, +F. W. Bird, Alice Freeman Palmer, Charles G. Ames, +Edward L. Pierce, Frank B. Sanborn, Annie Fields, +E. Benjamin Andrews, Lillie B. Chace Wyman, Samuel +L. Clemens, and Joseph H. Twitchell.</p> + +<p>James Russell Lowell, writing to Francis J. Garrison +in 1891, says: "Between mote and beam, I think <i>this</i> +time Russia has the latter in her eye, though God +knows we have motes enough in ours. So you may take +my name even if it be in vain, as I think it will be."</p> + +<p>It was through this society that she made the +acquaintance of Mme. Breschkovskaya,<a name="FNanchor_118_118" id="FNanchor_118_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_118_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a> the Russian +patriot whose sufferings and sacrifices have endeared +her to all lovers of freedom. The two women felt +instant sympathy with each other. Mme. Breschkovskaya +came to 241 Beacon Street more than once, +and they had much talk together. On one of these +occasions our mother was asked to play some of her +own compositions. Her fingers strayed from one thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188b" id="Page_188b">[188]</a></span> +to another; finally, on a sudden impulse, she struck the +opening chords of the Russian National Hymn. Mme. +Breschkovskaya started forward. "Ah, madame!" +she cried, "do not play that! You cannot know what +that air means to us Russians!"</p> + +<p>At a great meeting in Faneuil Hall the two spoke, +in English and Russian respectively, while other addresses +were in Yiddish and Polish. All were frantically +applauded by the polyglot audience which +filled the hall to overflowing. William Dudley Foulke +presided at this meeting. Speaking with our mother +several years later, he reminded her of the occasion, +which he thought might have been of a somewhat +anarchistic tendency. He was not sure, he said, that +they had not made fools of themselves. "One can +afford," she replied, "to make a very great fool of +one's self in such a cause as that of Russian liberty!"</p> + + +<p><br />The year 1891 saw the birth of another society in +which she was deeply interested, the Women's Rest +Tour Association, whose object was "simply to make +it easier for women who need a trip abroad to take +one."</p> + +<p>It was proved "that the sum of $250 was sufficient +to enable a woman of simple tastes to enjoy a summer's +vacation in Europe"; a travelling fund was established +from which women could borrow, or—in certain cases—receive +gifts; a handbook was issued, etc., etc.</p> + +<p>In an unobtrusive way, the Women's Rest Tour +Association did and continues to do much good. She +was its president to the close of her life, and in silent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189b" id="Page_189b">[189]</a></span> +and lovely tribute to her memory the office has since +then remained vacant.</p> + +<p>In the early nineties all Christendom was aroused +by the outrages committed by the Turks in Armenia. +From almost every Christian country rose a cry of +horror: indignation meetings were called; protest, +denunciation, and appeal were the order of the day. +In Boston a meeting was held at Faneuil Hall (November +26, 1894), called together by the Boston +Armenian Relief Committee. She was on the platform, +and spoke from her heart.</p> + +<p>"I could not," she says, "stay away from this meeting. +My heart was here, and I came, not so much to +speak, as to hear what is to be done about this dreadful +trouble. For something must be done. I have to pray +God night and morning that He would find some way +to stay this terrible tide of slaughter....</p> + +<p>"I recall the first action of Florence Nightingale +when she went to take care of the sick and wounded in +the Crimean War. She found many things wanting for +the comfort of the soldiers in the hospitals, but she +could not get at them. Some seal or mandate was +waited for. 'The men are suffering,' Florence Nightingale +said. 'Break in the doors—open the boxes—give +me the blankets and medicines. I must have them!'—and +so she did. Now, the fleets of the Western nations +are waiting for some diplomatic development which +shall open the way for action. I think that we, the +United States of America, are now called upon to play +the part of Florence Nightingale; to take our stand +and insist upon it that the slaughter shall cease. Oh!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190b" id="Page_190b">[190]</a></span> +let us give money, let us give life, but let us stand by +our principles of civil and religious liberty. I am sure +that if we do so, we shall have behind us, and with us, +that great spirit which has been in the world for nineteen +centuries past, with ever-increasing power. Let +us set up in these distant lands the shelter of the +blessed Cross, and of all that it stands for, and let us +make it availing once and forever."</p> + +<p>Soon after this the Friends of Armenia organized as +a society, she being its president. Among its members +were William Lloyd Garrison, Henry Blackwell and +his devoted daughter Alice, and M. H. Gulesian. +Singly or in company they went about, through Massachusetts, +holding meetings, rousing the people to aid +in the protest of Christendom against heathendom, of +mercy against cruelty. "Spoke for Armenia," is a +frequent entry in the Journal of these days.</p> + +<p>In one of these addresses she said:—</p> + +<p>"It may be asked, where is the good of our assembling +here? what can a handful of us effect against this +wicked and remorseless power, so far beyond our reach, +so entrenched in the selfishness of European nations +who are the creditors of the bankrupt state, and who +keep her alive in the hope of recovering the debt which +she owes them? The walls of this old hall should answer +this question. They saw the dawn of our own +larger liberties. They heard the first indignant plea of +Wendell Phillips when, in the splendor of his youth, +he took the field for the emancipation of a despised +race which had no friends. So, on this sacred arena, I +throw down the glove which challenges the Turkish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191b" id="Page_191b">[191]</a></span> +Government to its dread account. What have we for +us in this contest? The spirit of civilization, the sense +of Christendom, the heart of humanity. All of these +plead for justice, all cry out against barbarous warfare +of which the victims are helpless men, tender +women and children. We invoke here the higher powers +of humanity against the rude instincts in which the +brute element survives and rules.</p> + +<p> +"Aid us, paper, aid us, pen,<br /> +Aid us, hearts of noble men!<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Aid us, shades of champions who have led the world's +progress! Aid us, thou who hast made royal the +scourge and crown of thorns!"</p> + +<p>After hearing these words, Frederick Greenhalge, +then Governor of Massachusetts, said to her, "Ah, +Mrs. Howe, you have given us a prose Battle Hymn!"</p> + +<p>The Friends of Armenia did active and zealous service +through a number of years, laboring not only for +the saving of life, but for the support and education +of the thousands of women and orphans left desolate. +Schools and hospitals were established in Armenia, +and many children were placed in American homes, +where they grew up happily, to citizenship.</p> + +<p>Nearly ten years later, a new outbreak of Turkish +ferocity roused the "Friends" to new fervor, and once +again her voice was lifted up in protest and appeal. +She wrote to President Roosevelt, imploring him to +send some one from some neighboring American consulate +to investigate conditions. He did so, and his +action prevented an impending massacre.</p> + +<p>In 1909, fresh persecutions brought the organization<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192b" id="Page_192b">[192]</a></span> +once more together. The Armenians of Boston reminded +her of the help she had given before, and asked +her to write to President Taft. This she promptly did. +Briefly, this cause with so many others was to be +relinquished only with life itself.</p> + +<p>On the fly-leaf of the Journal for 1894 is written: +"I take possession of the New Year in the name of +Faith, Hope, and Charity. J. W. Howe."</p> + +<p>"Head bewildered with correspondence, bills, etc. +Must get out of this or die."</p> + +<p>"A threatening head, and a week before me full of +functions. I feel weak in mind and dazed with confusions, +but will trust in God and keep my powder dry."</p> + +<p>"Hearing on Suffrage, Green Room, 10 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> My +mind was unusually clear for this speaking. I determined +to speak of the two sorts of people, those +who naturally wish to keep the best things for themselves, +and those whose appreciation of these things +is such that they cannot refrain from spreading them +abroad, giving freely as they have received. I was able +to follow and apply this tolerably in my ten-minute +speech...."</p> + +<p>"Annual meeting of Rest Tour Association; a delightful +meeting, full of good suggestions. I made +one concerning pilgrimages in groups.... I had a +sudden glimpse to-day of the unfailing goodness of +God. This and not our merits brings the pardon of +our sins."</p> + +<p>"To hear Irving in 'Louis XI'; a strong play and a +good part for him. Left after Act Fourth to attend +Mrs. Gardner's musicale, at which Busoni pounded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193b" id="Page_193b">[193]</a></span> +fearfully. I said, 'He ought to play with his boots +on his hands.' He played two curious compositions of +Liszt's: St. Francis's Sermon to the Birds and to the +Fishes—much roaring as of old ocean in the second."</p> + +<p>"<i>Boston.</i> Attended Mrs. Mary Hemenway's funeral +in the morning.... A great loss she is, but her life has +been a great gain. Would that more rich men had +such daughters! That more rich women had such a +heart!..."</p> + +<p>"C. G. A. preached a funeral sermon on Mrs. +Hemenway. As he opened his lips, I said to myself, +'What can he teach us that her life has not taught us?' +The sermon, however, was most instructive. Such a +life makes an epoch, and should establish a precedent. +If one woman can be so disinterested and so wise, +others can emulate her example. I, for one, feel that I +shall not forget this forcible presentation of the aspect +of such a character, of such a history. God send that +her mantle may fall upon this whole community, stimulating +each to do what he or she can for humanity."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +241 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street</span>, April 21, 1894. +</div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">My dearest dear Child</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>... Let me tell you of the abolition of the old Fast +Day and of the new holiday, April 19, ordained in its +stead. This, you may remember, is the anniversary of +the Battle of Lexington. The celebration here was +quite on a grand scale. The bells of the old North +Church were rung and the lanterns hung out. A horseman, +personating Paul Revere, rode out to rouse the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194b" id="Page_194b">[194]</a></span> +farmers of Concord and Lexington, and a sham fight, +imitating the real one, actually came off with an immense +concourse of spectators. The Daughters of the +American Revolution had made me promise to go to +their celebration at the Old South, where I sat upon +the platform with Mrs. Sam Eliot, Regent, and with +the two orators of the day, Professor Channing and +Edward Hale. I wore the changeable silk that Jenny +Nelson made, the Gardner cashmere, and the <i>bonnet</i> +which little you made for me last summer. McAlvin +refreshed it a little, and it looked most proud. Sam +Eliot, who presided, said to me, "Why, Julia, you look +like the queen that I said you were, long ago. If I could +do so, I would introduce you as the Queen." I tell you +all this in order that you may know that I was all right +as to appearance. I was to read a poem, but had not +managed to compose one, so I copied out "Our Country" +from "Later Lyrics," and read it as I was never +able to read it before. For the first time, it <i>told</i> upon +the audience. This was because it was especially appropriate +to the occasion....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 11.</i> Opposed the dispensing with the reading +of State Reports. The maker of the motion said that +we could read these at home. I said, 'Yes, and we can +read the Bible at home, but we like to go to church +and hear it read.' Finished my screed for this evening +and licked my Columbus poem into shape, the dear +Lord helping me."</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195b" id="Page_195b">[195]</a></span><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Plainfield, N.J.</span>, May 16, 1894.<br /> +</div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">My dearest Maud</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>... First place, I had a visit from Laura. We threw +the ball daily, and had lunches and punches. We +went to hear de Koven's "Robin Hood," the music of +which is strongly <i>reminiscent</i>, and also saw Mounet-Sully's +"Hamlet," a very wonderful piece of acting. +Flossy and I had three days of conventioning in Philadelphia, +last week. Flossy's little speech was one of +the best at the convention, and was much applauded. +I was received on all hands with affectionate goodwill.... +There seemed to be, among the Eastern +women, a desire to make <i>me</i> president [of the General +Federation of Women's Clubs]. This I immediately +put out of the question and Mrs. Cheney stood +by me, saying that Massachusetts would not see me +killed with work. It would indeed have been out of +the question, as the position is probably one of great +labor and responsibility....</p> + +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Your motherest Mother</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The Seventy-fifth Birthday brought the customary +festivities. The newspapers sent reporters; she had +a word for each. To the representative of the "Advertiser," +she said, "I think that I enjoy the coming +of old age with its peacefulness, like the going down +of the sun. It is very lovely! I am so glad to be remembered +by so many. The twilight of life is indeed a +pleasant season!"</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196b" id="Page_196b">[196]</a></span><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +241 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street</span>, May 31, 1894. +</div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">My dearest Child</span>,— +</p> + +<p>I send you a budget of tributes to my birthday. The +"Springfield Republican" has a bit about it, with a +good and gratifying poem from Sanborn. <i>Really</i>, dear, +between you and me what a old humbug it is! But no +matter—if people will take me for much better than +I am, I can't help it, and must only try to live up to +my reputation.... I received a good letter from you, +"a little scolding at first," but "soft rebukes with +blessings ended," as Longfellow describes the admonitions +of his first wife.... At the Suffrage Festival, +Governor Long presided, and in introducing me waved +a branch of lilies, saying, "In the beauty of the lilies +she is still, at seventy-five." Now that I call handsome, +don't you?...</p> + +<p>Flossy had a very successful afternoon tea while +I was with her. She had three ladies of the <i>Civitas</i> +Club and invited about one hundred of her neighbors +to hear them read papers. It wasn't suffrage, but it +was good government, which is about the same thing. +The parlors looked very pretty. I should think seventy +or eighty came and all were delighted. Did I write +you that at Philadelphia she made the most admired +speech of the occasion? She wore the brocade, finely +made over, with big black velvet top sleeves and +rhinestone comb, and they 'plauded and 'plauded, +and I sat, grinning like a chessy cat, oh! so welly +pleased.</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197b" id="Page_197b">[197]</a></span>"<i>July 1.</i> [<i>Oak Glen.</i>] Despite my severe fatigue went +in town to church; desired in my mind to have some +good abiding thought given me to work for and live +by. The best thought that came to me was something +like this: we are careful of our fortune and of our reputation. +We are not careful enough of our lives. Society +is built of these lives in which each should fit his or her +place, like a stone fitly joined by the builder. We die, +but <i>the life we have lived remains</i>, and helps to build +society well or ill. Later on I thought that it sometimes +seems as if a rope or chain of mercy would be let +down to pull some of us out of sin and degradation, out +of the Hell of passion. If we have taken hold of it and +have been rescued, shall we not work to have others +drawn up with us? At such moments, I remember my +old wish to speak to the prisoners, never fully realized."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 13.</i> Finished my poem for the Bryant +Centenary, of which I have despaired; my mind has +seemed dull of late, and I have had a hard time with +this poem, writing what appeared to me bald-doggerel, +with no uniting thought. In these last three days, I +have hammered upon it, and bettered it, coming in +sight of a better vein and to-day, not without prayerful +effort, I got it about ready, <i>D.G.</i>"</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, August 27, 1894. +</div> + +<p>... An interesting French gentleman has been giving +readings at Mrs. Coleman's. He read us Corneille's +"Cid" last evening with much dash and spirit. It is +a famous play, but the sentiment is very stilted, like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198b" id="Page_198b">[198]</a></span> +going up a ladder to shave one's self. I was at Providence +on Friday to meet a literary club of ladies. I +read to them the greater part of my play, "Hippolytus," +written the summer before Sammy was born, +for Edwin Booth. It seemed very ghostly to go back +to the ambitions of that time, but the audience, a +parlor one, expressed great satisfaction.... I 'fesses +that I did attend the Bryant Centenary Festival at +Cummington, Mass. I read a poem written for the +occasion. Charles Dudley Warner and Charles Eliot +Norton were there, and Parke Godwin presided.</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>August 31.</i> To Newport with Flossy, taking my +screed with me, to the meeting of Colonial Dames, at +the rooms of the Historical Society, one of which is the +old Seventh-Day Baptist Church, which my great-grandfather, +Governor Samuel Ward, used to attend.... +Bishop Clarke made the closing address, full of +good sense, sentiment and wit—a wonderful man for +eighty-two years of age."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, September 6, 1894. +</div> + +<p>Q. What has been your mother's treatment of you +latterly?</p> + +<p>Ans. Quite devilish, thank you.</p> + +<p>Q. Has her conduct this past season been worse +than usual?</p> + +<p>Ans. Much as usual. I regret to say, couldn't be +worse.</p> + +<p class="signature">(Family Catechism for 1894.)</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199b" id="Page_199b">[199]</a></span>Oh! I've got a day to myself, and I've got some +chillen, and I'm going to write to 'em, you bet.</p> + +<p>You see, Laura E., of the plural name of Dick, there +warn't no summer, only one of those patent, boiled-down +contrivances, all shrivelled up, which if you puts +them in water, they swells out, but there warn't no +water (Encycl. Brit., Article "Drought"); and so the +dried-up thing didn't swell, and there warn't no +summer, and that is why you haven't heard from me.... +I'm sorry, anyhow, that I can't allow you the +luxury of one moment's grievance against me, but I +can't; I may, <i>now and then</i>, forget to write ("!!!!" +says L. E. R.), but I 'dores you all the same. I carry +the sweet cheer of your household through all my +life. Am drefful glad that you have been to camp this +season; wish I could go myself. Only think of Celia +Thaxter's death! I can hardly believe it, she always +seemed so full of life....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>September 28.</i> Here begins for me a new period. I +have fulfilled as well as I could the tasks of the summer, +and must now have a little rest, a day or so, and +then begin in good earnest to prepare for the autumn +and winter work, in which A.A.W. comes first, and +endless correspondence."</p> + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">241 Beacon Street</span>, December 19, 1894. +</div> + +<p>Last Sunday evening I spoke in Trinity Church, +having been invited to do so by the rector, Dr. Donald. +Wonders will never cease. The meeting was in behalf<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200b" id="Page_200b">[200]</a></span> +of the colored school at Tuskegee, which we A.A.W.'s +visited after our Congress. I dressed myself with unusual +care. Dr. Donald gave me the place of honor +and took me in and upon the platform in the chancel +where we all sat. Governor Greenhalge was the first +speaker. I came about fourth, and to my surprise was +distinctly heard all over the house. You may easily +imagine that I enjoyed this very much, although it +was rather an anxious moment when I stepped forward +to speak.... We are all much shocked at the death +of dear Robert Louis Stevenson of which you will +have heard before this reaches you. What a loss to +literature!</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>January 1, 1895.</i> I was awake very early and +made the prayer that during this year I might not say +one uncharitable word, or be guilty of one ungenerous +action."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 6</i>.... My afternoon service at the Women's +Educational and Industrial Union.... The day +was very stormy and Mrs. Lee met me at the carriage, +offering to excuse me from speaking to the five persons +who were in attendance. I felt not to disappoint those +five, and presently twenty-three were present, and we +had a pleasant talk, after the reading of the short +sermon."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 8</i>.... Felt much discouraged at waking, +the long vista of work opening out before me, each +task calling for some original brain-work, I mean for +some special thought worth presenting to an audience. +While I puzzled, a thought came to me for this day's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201b" id="Page_201b">[201]</a></span> +suffrage speech: 'The kingdom cometh not with observation.' +The silent, gradual, wonderful growth of +public sentiment regarding woman suffrage, the +spreading sense of the great universal harmony which +Christ delivered to us in the words and acts of a few +years, and which, it seems to me, is only now beginning +to make itself generally felt and to shape the +world's councils increasingly."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 25.</i> I awoke this morning overwhelmed +by the thought of my lecture at Salem, which I have +not written. Suddenly a line of my own came to me, +'Had I one of thy words, my Master,' and this brought +me the train of thought, which I shall endeavor to +present. The one word which we all have is 'charity.' +I wrote quite a screed and with that and some speaking +shall get through, I hope.... Got a good lead of +thought and felt that I could supply <i>extempore</i> what +I had not time to write. Harry and Fanny had a +beautiful dinner for Lady Henry Somerset."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 26.</i> Lunch and lecture in Salem. A dreadful +storm; I felt that I must go. The hackman and I +rolled down the steps of the house, he, fortunately for +me, undermost and quite stout of person; otherwise +the shock would have been severe and even dangerous...."</p> + +<p>[N.B. The terrified hackman, picking himself up, +found her already on her feet.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Mrs. Howe," he cried, "let me help you into +the house!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" was the reply. "I have just time to +catch my train!"]</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202b" id="Page_202b">[202]</a></span><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">241 Beacon Street</span>, February 24, 1895. +</div> + +<p>I lost a good lecture engagement at Poughkeepsie +through a blizzard. Did not start, finding that roads +were badly blocked. My engagement at Brooklyn was +a good one—a hundred dollars. I stayed at Chanler +house, which was Chanleresque as usual. Peter Marié +gave me a fine dinner. Margaret went with me, in +white satin. I wore my black and white which you +remember well. It still looks well enough. I wore some +beautiful lace which I got, through dear sister Annie, +from some distressed lace woman in England. I went +to New York by a <i>five</i>-hour train, Godkin of the +"Nation" taking care of me. He remembers your kind +attentions to him when you met him in the Pullman +with a broken ankle.</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>March 30....</i> I awoke very early this morning, +with a head so confused that I thought my brain had +given out, at least from the recent overstrain.... +Twice I knelt and prayed that God would give me +the use of my mind. An hour in sleep did something +towards this and a good cup of tea put me quite on +my feet...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 8.</i> In the late afternoon Harry, my son, +came, and after some little preparation told me of the +death of my dear sister Annie. I have been toiling +and moiling to keep the engagements of this week, but +here comes the great silence, and I must keep it for +some days at least...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203b" id="Page_203b">[203]</a></span>"<i>April 10....</i> It suddenly occurred to me that this +might be the hour, as this would surely be the day of +dear Annie's funeral. So I found the 90th Psalm and +the chapter in Corinthians, and sat and read them before +her picture, remembering also Tennyson's lines:—</p> + +<p> +"'And <i>Ave</i>, <i>Ave</i>, <i>Ave</i> said<br /> +Adieu, adieu, forever more.'"<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">241 Beacon Street</span>, April 14, 1895. +</div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">Buona Pasqua, dear Child!</span>— +</p> + +<p>... I feel thankful that my darling died in her own +home, apparently without suffering, and in the bosom +of her beloved family. She has lived out her sweet +life, and while the loss to all who loved her is great, +we must be willing to commit our dear ones to God, +as we commit ourselves. The chill of age, no doubt, +prevents my feeling as I should once have done, and +the feeling that she has only passed in a little before +me, lessens the sense of separation.</p> + +<p>12.25. I have been to our Easter service, which +I found very comforting and elevating, though it +brought some tears, of which I have not shed many, +being now past the age at which they flow freely. I +thought a good deal of the desolate Easter at the ranch. +For them, too, let us hope that the blessed season has +brought comforting thoughts.... I went too to a +Good Friday service at the new Old South, at which +Dr. Donald of Trinity, Cuckson of Arlington [Unitarian] +and Gordon, orthodox [Congregational], each +took part. It was such an earnest, a reconciled and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204b" id="Page_204b">[204]</a></span> +unified Christendom as I am thankful to have lived +to see.</p> + +<p>Love and blessings to you and yours, dear child.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Affect.,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mother.</span> +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 20.</i>.Have writ a brief letter to Mary G. Hennessey, +Dixon, Illinois. She intends to speak of me in +her graduation address and wanted me to send her +'a vivid history of my life,' with my 'ideas of literary +work.' I declined the first, but sent a bit under the +last head."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 27.</i>... Suffrage meeting in the evening. I +presided and began with, 'Sixty years ago to-day I was +sixteen years old. If I only knew now what I thought +I knew then'!"</p> + +<p>"<i>June 2.</i>... To communion in afternoon. The +minister asked whether I would speak. I told what I +had felt as I entered the church that afternoon, 'a sort +of realization of the scene in that upper chamber, its +gloom and its glory. What was in that great heart +whose pulsations have made themselves felt down to +our own time, and all over the world? What are its +sorrows? It bore the burthen of the sorrows and distresses +of humanity, and we who pledge him here in +this cup are bound to bear our part of that burthen. +Only thus shall we attain to share in that festival +of joy and of revealed power which followed the days +of doubt and despair.'</p> + +<p>"All this came to me like a flash. I have written it +down from memory because I value the thought."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205b" id="Page_205b">[205]</a></span><i>June 15.</i> Attended the funeral of my old friend +and helper, Dr. Williams, the oculist.... Six stalwart +sons carried the coffin.... I thought this: 'I am glad +that I have at last found out that the battle of life is +an unending fight against the evil tendencies, evil +mostly because exceeding right measure, which we +find in ourselves.' Strange that it should take so +long to find this out. This is the victory which God +gives us when we have fought well and faithfully. +Might I at least share it with the saints whom I have +known.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>July 14.</i>... When I lay down to my rest before +dinner, I had a momentary sense of the sweetness and +relief of the last lying down. This was a new experience +to me, as I have been averse to any thought of death +as opposed to the activity which I love. I now saw it +as the termination of all fight and struggle, and prayed +that in the life beyond I might pay some of the debts +of affection and recompense which I have failed to +make good in this life. Feeling a little like my old +self to-day, I realize how far from well I have been +for days past."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 27.</i> Woke with an aching head.... Prayed +that even in suffering I might still have 'work and worship.' +Alliteration is, I know, one of my weaknesses. +I thought afterwards of a third W—, work, worship, +welcome. These three words will do for a motto of the +life which I now lead, in which these words stand for +my ruling objects, 'welcome' denoting 'hospitality' in +which I should be glad to be more forward than I have +been of late...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206b" id="Page_206b">[206]</a></span>"<i>July 28.</i> Reading Mr. Hedge's review of Historic +Christianity to-day, I felt puzzled by his showing of +the usefulness of human errors and delusion in the +great order of Providence. Lying down for my midday +rest, it became more clear to me that there is truth of +sentiment and also intellectual truth. In Dr. Hedge's +view, the inevitable mistakes of human intellect in its +early unfolding were helpful to the development of +true sentiment. Higher than this, however, must be +the agreement of the two, prefigured perhaps in such +sentences as 'Mercy and truth have kissed each other.' +This thought also came to me: 'Oh, God, no kingdom +is worth praying for but thine.'"</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, August 2, 1895. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dearest Pidge, also Midge</span>,—</p> + +<p>... I will condescend to inform you that I am well, +that Flossy is very faithful in taking care of me, and +that we are reading Bulwer's "Pelham," the stupidest +of novels. We are two thirds through with it, and how +the author of "Rienzi" could have offered the public +so dull a dish, even in his unripe youth, passes my +understanding.</p> + +<p>You must not get too tired. Remember that no one +will have mercy upon you unless you will have mercy +upon yourself. We sit out a good deal, and enjoy our +books, all but "Pelham," our trees, birds, and butterflies.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Affectionate +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ma</span>. +</div></blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207b" id="Page_207b">[207]</a></span>"<i>September 30.</i> My dearest Maud left me this morning +for another long absence; she is to sail for Europe. +She had forbidden me to see her off, but I could not +obey her in this and sat with her at breakfast, and +had a last kiss and greeting. My last words called +after her were: 'Do not forget to say your prayers.' +May God keep my dearest child and permit us to +meet again, if it is best that I should live until her +return, of which at present the prospect seems very +good...."</p> + + +<p><br />The Association for the Advancement of Women +met in New Orleans this year, but first she must go +with Florence to the Council of the General Federation +of Women's Clubs at Atlanta, Georgia, where a +great exposition was also being held. The expedition +began with disaster.</p> + +<p>"<i>October 31.</i> Left Boston by Colonial train at 9 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> +Rolled down my front steps, striking my forehead and +bruising myself generally, in getting to the carriage...."</p> + +<p>After taking her part in the Council and visiting the +Exposition, she proceeded to New Orleans, where a +warm welcome awaited her. A few days after her +arrival, she was driving to some function when a trolley +car ran into the carriage, shaking her up badly and +bruising her lame knee severely. It seemed imperative +that she should rest for a few days, and hostess and +daughter pleaded with her. Florence begged in particular +that she would cancel her engagement to +preach in the Unitarian Church; begged a little too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208b" id="Page_208b">[208]</a></span> +insistently. "I <i>wouldn't</i>, dear mother!" "Flossy," +was the reply, "you are you, and I am I! I shall +preach on Sunday!"</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +241 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street</span>, November 17, 1895. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">My darling Child</span>,—</p> + +<p>... I had a confused and weary time moving up +from Newport, and my Southern journey followed +"hard upon." Mrs. Cheney, Eva Channing, Mrs. +Bethune, and I started on October 31. Flossy joined +us in New York. We reached Atlanta on Friday. Our +meetings were held in the Woman's Building of the +Atlanta Exposition, and were very pleasant, the Exposition +being also well worth visiting. I spoke in the +Unitarian Church on the Sunday following, and on +November 4 we started for New Orleans which we +reached the next morning. We were all to be entertained, +and Mrs. King, our old friend, had written me +a cordial invitation to stay with her. The whole family +turned out to receive us, and we were made at home +at once.... Mrs. King had always been most kind and +loyal to me. Our days in New Orleans, only six in +number, were delightful. I saw most of the old friends.... +After the accident to Mrs. King and myself, I +felt much like seeking my own hearth. You will have +seen or heard that a trolley car upset our carriage.... +All said that it was a wonderful escape. My bruises +are nearly well now, and I am able to go about as +usual. New Orleans has improved much since we +were there. The old mule cars have disappeared, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209b" id="Page_209b">[209]</a></span> +much of the mud. People feel very glad that the +Lottery has been got rid of, but they are bitter against +the sugar trust. Mrs. Walmsley received our A.A.W. +ladies very cordially at her fine house and sent me +beautiful flowers.... I spoke in the Unitarian Church +on Sunday, so I had my heart's desire fulfilled....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +241 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street, Boston</span>, +<br /> +December 18, 1895. +</div> + +<p>'Pon my word and honor, couldn't come at it +before!... Last week I spoke straight along, every +day until Saturday; was dreadfully tired. This week +haven't spoken at all. Oh, I forgot, lecture on "Race +Problems in Europe," before my own Club. Have +sent the Armenians the money for a lecture given at +Nahant last week, $10. Oh! the difficult dollars!...</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>December 28....</i> Mrs. Barrows dined <i>tête-à-tête</i> +with me, and we had much talk about Armenia. I said: +'If we two should go to England, would it do any +good?' I spoke only half in earnest. She said: 'If you +would only go, I would go with you as your henchman.' +This set me thinking of a voyage to England and a +crusade such as I made for Peace in 1872. I am, however, +held forcibly here by engagements, and at my +age, my bodily presence might be, as St. Paul says, +'contemptible.' I must try to work in some other +way."</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210b" id="Page_210b">[210]</a></span><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +241 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street</span>, December 29, 1895. +</div> + +<p>... The mince pie was in the grand style, and has +been faithfully devoured, a profound sense of duty +forbidding me to neglect it.... I went to a fine musical +party at Mrs. Montie Sears's on Thursday evening, +26th. Paderewski played, at first with strings a +Septet or Septuor of Brahms', and then many things +by himself. Somehow, I could not enjoy him much; he +played miraculously, but did not seem to be <i>in it</i>.</p> + +<p>I am more than ever stirred up about the Armenians. +The horrible massacres go on, just the same, +and Christendom stands still. Oh! a curse on human +selfishness!... We are to have a dramatic entertainment +for the Red Cross on Jan. 7th at Boston +Theatre....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>December 29....</i> I determined to-day to try to +work more systematically for the Armenians. Think +I will write to Clara Barton and Senator Hoar, also to +Lady Henry Somerset, an arraignment of Christendom +for its supineness towards the Turks, an allusion to +Cœur de Lion and the ancient Crusaders...."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 30....</i> Clara Barton held a meeting for +the Red Cross.... I was the last speaker and I think +that, as sometimes happens, my few words brought +things to a crisis, for the moment only, indeed, but +even that may help."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 31.</i> Rising early and with a mind somewhat +confused and clouded, I went to my window.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211b" id="Page_211b">[211]</a></span> +As I looked out, the gray clouds parted, giving me a +moment's sight of a star high up in the heavens. This +little glimpse gave me hope for the day and great +comfort. It was like an answering glance to my many +troubled questions...."</p> + +<p>"We have stood for that which was known to be +right in theory, and for that which has proved to be +right in practice. (From my suffrage address at State +House in 1894)."</p> + + +<p><br />In December, 1895, appeared her first volume since +"Margaret Fuller," a collection of essays, published +under the title of the opening one, "Is Polite Society +Polite?" In the preface she says:—</p> + +<p>"I remember, that quite late in the fifties, I mentioned +to Theodore Parker the desire which I began +to feel to give living expression to my thoughts, and +to lend to my written words the interpretation of my +voice.</p> + +<p>"Parker, who had taken a friendly interest in the +publication of my first volumes, 'Passion Flowers' and +'Words for the Hour,' gave his approval also to this +new project. 'The great desire of the age,' he said, 'is +for vocal expression. People are scarcely satisfied with +the printed page alone: they crave for their instruction +the living voice and the living presence.'..."</p> + +<p>Of the title essay she says:—</p> + +<p>"I remember that I was once invited to read this +essay to a village audience in one of the New England +States. My theme was probably one quite remote +from the general thought of my hearers. As I went on,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212b" id="Page_212b">[212]</a></span> +their indifference began to affect me, and my thought +was that I might as well have appealed to a set of +wooden tenpins as to those who were present on that +occasion.</p> + +<p>"In this, I afterwards learned that I was mistaken. +After the conclusion of the evening's exercise, a young +man, well known in the community, was heard to +inquire urgently where he could find the lecturer. +Friends asked, what did he want of her? He replied: +'Well, I did put my brother in the poorhouse, and now +that I have heard Mrs. Howe, I suppose that I must +take him out.'"</p> + +<p>Another personal reminiscence goes back to her +childhood days:—</p> + +<p>"I had a nursery governess when I was a small child. +She came from some country town, and probably regarded +her position in my father's family as a promotion. +One evening, while we little folks gathered about +her in our nursery, she wept bitterly. 'What is the +matter?' we asked; and she took me up in her lap, and +said: 'My poor old father came here to see me to-day, +and I would not see him. I bade them tell him that +he had mistaken the house, and he went away, and as +he went I saw him looking up at the windows so wistfully!' +Poor woman! We wept with her, feeling that +this was indeed a tragical event, and not knowing +what she could do to make it better.</p> + +<p>"But could I see that woman now, I would say to +her: 'If you were serving the king at his table, and +held his wine-cup in your hand, and your father stood +without, asking for you, you should set down the cup,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213b" id="Page_213b">[213]</a></span> +and go out from the royal presence to honor your +father, so much the more if he is poor, so much the +more if he is old.' And all that is really polite in polite +society would say so too."</p> + +<p>On the same page is a memory of later years:—</p> + +<p>"I once heard a lady, herself quite new in society, +say of a Parisian dame who had shown her some attention: +'Ah! the trouble with Madame —— is that +she is too good-natured. She entertains everybody.' +'Indeed,' thought I, 'if she had been less good-natured, +is it certain that she would have entertained you?'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214b" id="Page_214b">[214]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>IN THE HOUSE OF LABOR</h3> + +<h4>1896-1897; <i>aet.</i> 77-78</h4> + +<p>THE HOUSE OF REST</p> + +<p> +I will build a house of rest,<br /> +Square the corners every one:<br /> +At each angle on his breast<br /> +Shall a cherub take the sun;<br /> +Rising, risen, sinking, down,<br /> +Weaving day's unequal crown.<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> +<br /> +With a free, unmeasured tread<br /> +Shall we pace the cloisters through:<br /> +Rest, enfranchised, like the Dead;<br /> +Rest till Love be born anew.<br /> +Weary Thought shall take his time,<br /> +Free of task-work, loosed from rhyme.<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> +<br /> +Measured bread shall build us up<br /> +At the hospitable board;<br /> +In Contentment's golden cup<br /> +Is the guileless liquor poured.<br /> +May the beggar pledge the king<br /> +In that spirit gathering.<br /> +<br /> +Oh! My house is far away;<br /> +Yet it sometimes shuts me in.<br /> +Imperfection mars each day<br /> +While the perfect works begin.<br /> +In the house of labor best<br /> +Can I build the house of rest.<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + + +<p><br />On the fly-leaf of the Journal for 1896 is written:—</p> + +<p>"That it may please Thee, to have mercy upon all +men, we beseech Thee to hear us, Good Lord."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 1.</i> I ask for this year, or for so much of +it as God may grant me, that I may do some service in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215b" id="Page_215b">[215]</a></span> +the war of civilization against barbarism, in my own +country and elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 18.</i>... Re-wrote and finished my Easter +poem, for which <i>gratias Deo</i>! I have had so much small +business that I almost despaired of accomplishing this +poem, of which the conception is good, but the execution +very faulty. I took it all to pieces to-day, kept +the thoughts and altered the arrangement."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 23.</i> Dinner of Sorosis at the Waldorf, at +7 o'clock.</p> + +<p>"Reached New York at 3 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Elizabeth [Mrs. John +Jay Chapman] had sent maid and carriage for me, +which was most kind. Had a good rest and a short +walk and went to Sorosis dinner, which was very +brilliant and fine. I was asked to speak and took for +my topic, 'The Day of Small Things'; the beginning +of Sorosis and the New England Woman's Club, considered +so trifling a matter, yet very important because +it had behind it a very important principle; the +fact that the time had come in which women were +bound to study, assist, and stand by each other. I +quoted Christ's saying about the mustard seed. Miss +Barton's mission to Armenia I called a mustard seed, +and one which would have very important results."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 27....</i> Wrote a few lines to Mrs. Charles +A. Babcock, Oil City, Pennsylvania, for a woman's +issue of a paper called the 'Derrick.' She wishes me +to say what I thought would be the result of the +'women's edition' fad. I said that one result would +be to drive to desperation those who receive letters, +asking contributions to these issues."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216b" id="Page_216b">[216]</a></span>"<i>February 9.</i> Another inspired sermon from C. G. +Ames. Miss Page asked, 'Why is he so earnest? What +does it mean?' I replied, 'He is in one of those waves +of inspiration which come sometimes. The angel has +certainly troubled the pool and we can go to it for +healing.' Returning home, I wrote some lines about +my sister Annie's picture. I had in church a momentary +glimpse of the meaning of Christ's saying, 'I am +the vine and ye are the branches.' I felt how the source +of our spiritual love is in the heavenly fatherhood, +and how departing from our sense of this we become +empty and barren. It was a moment of great comfort...."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 10....</i> Gulesian last evening said that +the Armenians want me to go to England, as a leader +in advocacy of their cause. The thought brought me +a new feeling of energy and enthusiasm. I think I +must first help the cause in Washington, D.C."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 26.</i> Hearing at State House on Suffrage. +Worked at it [her address] somewhat in the early +morning. Was tolerably successful in making my +points. Was rather disappointed because no one +applauded me. Considered that this was a lesson that +we must learn, to do without praise. It comforted +me to take it in this way. Soon the interest of what +the others said put my own matters quite out of my +mind. The hearing was a good one, all except a dreadful +woman, calling herself a Socialist, full of insufferable +conceit and affectation of knowledge. An English +labor man spoke well."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 22....</i> As I left church, Mrs. James Freeman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217b" id="Page_217b">[217]</a></span> +Clarke stopped me, took both of my hands in +hers and said she was sure that the world was better +for my having been in it. This from so undemonstrative +a person moved me a good deal and consoled me +somewhat for my poor deserts and performances in the +past—a burden which often weighs heavily upon +me...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 2.</i> Conservatory of Music, 3 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> I went in +fear and trembling with a violent bronchial cold and +cough, in a miserable storm. I prayed all the way +there that I might be pleasant in my demeanor, and +I think that I was, for my trouble at having to run +such a risk soon went out of my mind, and I enjoyed +the occasion very much; especially meeting pupils from +so many distant States, and one or two from Canada."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 8....</i> I asked in my prayer this morning, +feeling miserably dull and weak, that some deed of +help and love might be given me to accomplish to-day. +At noon came three gentlemen, Hagop Bogigian, Mr. +Blanchard, and Mr. Breed, of Lynn, praying me to +make an appeal to the women of America for their +Armenian sisters, who are destroying themselves in +many instances to avoid Turkish outrage. The funds +subscribed for relief are exhausted and some new stimulus +to rouse the public is much needed.... I felt that +I had had an answer to my prayer...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +241 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street</span>, April 18, 1896. +</div> + +<p>... Let me tell you now, lest you should hear of it in +some other way, that I was urged to go to England<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218b" id="Page_218b">[218]</a></span> +this summer to intercede with Queen Victoria for the +Armenians. I thought of it, but the plan seemed to +me chimerical and futile. I still have them and the +Cretans greatly at heart, but I don't think I could do +any good in the way just mentioned. I should have +been glad to make a great sacrifice for these persecuted +people, but common sense must be adhered to, in all +circumstances....</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To the same</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +241 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street</span>, April 18, 1896. +</div> + +<p>... If you go to Russia, be careful to go as Mrs. +John Elliott, not as Maud Howe Elliott. Your name +is probably known there as one of the friends of "Free +Russia," and you might be subjected to some annoyance +in consequence. You had better make acquaintance +with our minister, whoever he may be. The +Russians seem now to have joined hands with the +Turks. If the American missionaries can only be got +rid of, Russia, it is said, will take Armenia under her +so-called protection, and will compel all Christians to +join the Greek Church. There is so much spying in +Russia that you will have to be very careful what you +talk about. I rather hope you will not go, for a dynamite +country is especially dangerous in times of great +public excitement, which the time of the coronation +cannot fail to be....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>April 20.</i> F. J. Garrison called and made me an +offer, on the part of Houghton, Mifflin & Company, +that they should publish my 'Reminiscences.'... I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219b" id="Page_219b">[219]</a></span> +accepted, but named a year as the shortest time +possible for me to get such a book ready...."</p> + + +<p><br />As a matter of fact, it took three years for her to +complete the "Reminiscences." During these years, +while she made it her principal literary work, it still +had to take its chance with the rest, to be laid down +at the call of the hour and taken up again when the +insistence of "screed" or poem was removed: this +while in Boston or Newport. During the Roman +winter, soon to be described, she wrote steadily day +by day; but here she must still work at disadvantage, +having no access to journals or papers, depending on +memory alone.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 7.</i> Question: Cannot we follow up the Parliament +of Religions by a Pan-Christian Association? I +will try to write about this."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 19.</i> Had sought much for light, or a leading +thought about what I ought to do for Armenia.... +Wrote fully to Senator Hoar, asking his opinion about +my going abroad and whether I could have any official +support."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 28.</i> Moral Education Association, 10 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, +Tremont Temple.</p> + +<p>"I wish to record this thought which came to me +on my birthday: As for individuals, no bettering of +fortunes compares in importance with the bettering +of character; so among nations, no extension of territory +or aggregation of wealth equals in importance +the fact of moral growth. So no national loss is to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220b" id="Page_220b">[220]</a></span> +be deplored in comparison with loss of moral earnestness."</p> + +<p>"<i>Oak Glen, June 30....</i> Finished this afternoon +my perusal of the 'Memoir' of Mr. John Pickering. +Felt myself really uplifted by it into an atmosphere +of culture and scholarship, rarely attained even by +the intelligent people whom we all know...."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 12....</i> I pray this morning for courage to +undertake and fervor to accomplish something in behalf +of Christian civilization against the tide of barbarism, +which threatens to over-sweep it. This may +be a magazine article; something, at any rate, which +I shall try to write.</p> + +<p>"1 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Have made a pretty good beginning in this +task, having writ nine pages of a screed under the +heading: 'Shall the frontier of Christendom be maintained +and its domain extended?'"</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, July 18, 1896. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">My darling Wanderer</span>,—</p> + +<p>Here I am comfortably settled for the summer, +bathed in greenery and good air. I had barely unpacked +my books and papers when Daisy came out on +horseback to insist upon my paying her a visit. I did +this, and went to her on Wednesday, returning home +on the following Monday. On the 4th of July I attended, +by invitation, the meeting of the Cincinnati +in the Old State House here. Cousin Nathanael +Greene presided. Charles Howland Russell read +aloud the Declaration of Independence. Governor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221b" id="Page_221b">[221]</a></span> +Lippitt made an address in which he mentioned Governor +Samuel Ward, my great-grandfather.... I have +a good piano this year. We went on Monday last to +see the furniture at Malbone, all of which has just +been sold at auction. A good deal of it was very +costly and some of it very handsome.... Apropos +of worldly goods, Cornelius Vanderbilt has had a +stroke.</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, July 25, 1896. +</div> + +<p>Oh, yes! you now and then do lend me a daughter, +and so you'd ought to. Which, didn't I profit by +Alice's visit? My good woman (as poor, dear —— +used to say when she was in wrath), I should think so. +Clear comfort the wretch was to me, wretch because +she had such an old miserable to look after. I sometimes +catch myself thinking that, however it may be +with other families, your family, madam, came into this +world for my especial pleasure and comfort. What +do you think of this view? No matter what you think, +dear, it won't make any difference as to facts.... I +miss even the youth in Alice's voice. I would like, +mum, if you please, mum, to enjoy about sixty years +more of grandmotherhood, with fresh crops of grandchildren +coming up at reasonable intervals. Our life +here, this summer, is even unusually quiet. We have +few visitors.... I am, as usual, well content with my +books, and busy with my papers. Flossy reads aloud +Green's "History of the English People" about half +an hour daily, after breakfast. The boys reluctantly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222b" id="Page_222b">[222]</a></span> +submit to listen, fidgeting a good deal. It is less readable +for youth than I supposed it to be. We play whist +in the evening, and had a wood fire last evening, the +weather being suddenly cold. I learned yesterday, +from the "'Tiser," the death of Adolphe Mailliard [her +brother-in-law] which has brought me many sober +thoughts, despite the trifling tone of this letter. I had +waked the day before, thinking that some one said to +me "Mailliard is dying." I recorded it in my Diary, +but had no idea that I should so soon hear of it as a +reality. What a chapter ends with him!</p></blockquote> + + +<p>"<i>August 15.</i> To-day is mercifully cool. I have +about finished my A.A.W. screed, <i>D.G.</i> The great +heats have affected me very much; my brain has +been full of fever fancies and of nonsense. I prayed +earnestly this morning that I might not survive my +wits. I have great hope that I shall not...."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 17.</i> Have read in Minot J. Savage's 'Four +Great Questions,' and in the long biography of my +uncle, Rev. B. C. Cutler. His piety and faithfulness +appear to me most edifying. His theology at the +present time seems impossible. I am sorry that I saw +so very little of him after my marriage, but he was +disposed to consider me as one of the lost, and I could +not have met him on any religious ground. I could do +this better now, having learned something of the value +which very erroneous opinions may have, when they +serve, as in his case, to stimulate right effort and true +feeling."</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223b" id="Page_223b">[223]</a></span><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, August 21, 1896. +</div> + +<p>Being in a spleeny and uncomfortable mood to-day, +what resource so legitimate as to betake myself to my +own family? No particular reason for growling, growly +so much the more. If I only had a good grievance now, +how I would improve it! Well, you see, trouble is +some of us have not any money to speak of, and in +consequence we ain't nobody, and so on. There I hear +the voice of my little mother Laura, saying: "Well, +well!" in her soothing way. The truth is, darling, that +first I was roasted out, and then it "friz horrid," and +my poor old "conshushion" couldn't quite stand +it.... D' ye see? "Well, no," says Laura: "I don't +exactly see." Well, s'pose you don't—what then? +You sweetheart, this is just the way this old, unthankful +sinner was taken, just now. But I've got +bravely over it, and I submit to health, comfort, delightful +books, young company and good friends. +Edifying, ain't it? ...</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>September 15.</i> In the cars, reading the Duke of +Argyll's fine opuscule, 'Our [England's] Responsibilities +for Turkey,' my heart was lifted up in agonized +prayer. I said, 'O God! give me a handwriting on the +wall, that I may truly know what I can do for these +people.' And I resolved not to go back from the purpose +which prompted this prayer.</p> + +<p>"Arrived at St. John [New Brunswick] and was +made very welcome. Reception in the evening by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224b" id="Page_224b">[224]</a></span> +ladies of the Council. Speeches: Rev. Mr. De Wars, +Anglican minister, spoke of our taking A.A.W. to +England. I wondered if this was my handwriting on +the wall."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 10.</i> Wheaton Seminary Club, Vendôme. +Reminiscences of Longfellow and Emerson.... As I +was leaving one lady said to me, 'Mrs. Howe, you +have shocked me very much, and I think that when +you go to the other world, you will be sorry that you +did not stay as you were,' <i>i.e.</i>, Orthodox instead of +Unitarian. Miss Emerson apologized to me for this +rather uncivil greeting. I feel sure that the lady misunderstood +something in my lecture. What, I could +not tell."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 1.</i> The Communion service was very +delightful. I prayed quite earnestly this morning that +the dimness of sight, which has lately troubled me, +might disappear. My eyes are really better to-day. +I seemed at one moment during the service to see +myself as a little child in the Heavenly Father's +Nursery, having played my naughty pranks (alas!) +and left my tasks unperformed, but coming, as bedtime +draws near, to kiss and be forgiven."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Rokeby, Barrytown, N.Y.</span>, December 25, 1896. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">My own Dearest</span>,—</p> + +<p>I am here according to promise to spend Christmas +with Daisy.<a name="FNanchor_119_119" id="FNanchor_119_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_119_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a> I occupy Elizabeth Chanler's room, beautifully +adorned with hangings of poppy-colored silk. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225b" id="Page_225b">[225]</a></span> +... All of us helped to dress the tree, which was really +beautiful. The farm people came in at about six +o'clock, also the old tutor, Bostwick, and the Armstrong +cousins. After dinner, we had a fiddler in the +hall. Alida danced an Irish jig very prettily, and we +had a Virginia reel, which I danced, if you please, with +Mr. Bostwick. Then we snuggled up to the fire in the +library and Wintie read aloud from Mark Twain's +"Huckleberry Finn."...</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The year 1897 brought new activities. The Lodge +Immigration Bill roused her to indignation and protest; +there were "screeds" and letters to the powers +that were.</p> + +<p>In the early spring came another crisis in the East, +Greece and Crete bearing this time the brunt of Turkish +violence. Thirty years had passed since Crete +made her first stand for independence; years of dumb +suffering and misery. Now her people rose again +in revolt against their brutal masters, and this time +Greece felt strong enough to stand openly by her +Cretan brothers.</p> + +<p>Our mother was deeply moved by this new need, +which recalled so many precious memories. The record +of the spring of 1897 is much concerned with it.</p> + +<p>Written on the fly-leaf of the Journal: "The good +God make me grateful for this new year, of which I +am allowed to see the beginning. Thy kingdom come! +I have many wishes, but this prayer will carry them +all. January 1, 1897.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!"</p> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226b" id="Page_226b">[226]</a></span>"<i>January 4....</i> Went in the evening to see the +Smith College girls, Class of '95, play 'Midsummer +Night's Dream.' A most lovely and ideal performance. +Their representation of the Athenian clowns +was incredibly good, especially of Nick Bottom."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 5.</i>... Was grieved and shocked to learn +early this morning that my brilliant neighbor, General +Francis A. Walker, had died during the night. He +always greeted me with chivalrous courtesy, and has +more than once given me his arm to help me homeward, +when he has found me battling with the high +winds in or near Beacon Street...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +241 <span class="smcap">Beacon Street, Boston</span>, January 18, 1897. +</div> + +<p>About the life "<i>à deux seulement</i>," I agree with you +in thinking that it is not good for either party. It is +certainly very narrowing both to the mind and to the +affections, and is therefore to be avoided. A reasonable +amount of outside intercourse is a vital condition of +good living, even in the most sympathetic and intimate +marriages, and the knowledge of this is one of the +strong points in the character of women generally, +who do nine tenths of what is done to keep up social +intercourse....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>April 2.</i> Evening; celebration of twenty-fifth year +of Saturday Morning Club. Have writ draft of an +open letter regarding Greek matters; also finished a +very short screed for this evening...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 18....</i> I determined to work more for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227b" id="Page_227b">[227]</a></span> +Greeks and to try and write something about the craze +prevailing just now for the Eastern religions, which are +rather systems of speculation than of practical religion."</p> + + +<p class="center"> +<i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature">April 18, 1897. +</div> + +<p>... Mrs. Berdan made a visit here, and I gave a +reception for her, and took her to the great occasion +of the Saturday Morning Club, celebrating their +twenty-fifth anniversary. The whole thing was very +beautiful—the reception was in the tapestry room of +the Art Museum. I was placed in a sort of throne chair, +with the president and ex-presidents in a line at my +left, and the cream of Boston was all brought up and +presented to me. In another of the large rooms a +stage had been arranged, and from this I made my +little speech. Then came some beautiful singing by +Mrs. Tebbets, with a small orchestral accompaniment, +and then was given one act of Tennyson's +"Princess" and Browning's "In a Balcony." The +place, the performances, and the guests made this a +very distinguished occasion. I had gone just before +this to see Louisa Cushing's wonderful acting in a +French play of the Commune. She possesses great +tragic power and reminds one of Duse and of Sarah +Bernhardt. I suppose that H. M. H. has written you +of his appointment as Professor of Metallurgy, etc., at +Columbia College, New York. He and Fannie are +much pleased with this, and it is considered a very +important step for him. I shall miss him a good deal,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228b" id="Page_228b">[228]</a></span> +but am glad of it for his sake. Michael<a name="FNanchor_120_120" id="FNanchor_120_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_120_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a> and I went +yesterday to the annual breakfast of the Charity Club. +Greece had been made the topic of the day. Michael +made a splendid speech, and sang three stanzas of the +Greek National Hymn, albeit he cannot sing at all—he +intoned it. I also made a little speech, and some +money was given to aid the Greek cause. Hezekiah +Butterworth was present, and I offered the following +conundrum: "What's butter worth?" Answer, "The +cream of everything." Adieu, my dearest.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Ever your loving +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mother</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>April 26.</i> Received permission to use Faneuil Hall +for a Woman's Meeting of Aid and Sympathy for +Greece...."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 3.</i> Working at sending out notices of the +Faneuil Hall meeting."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 4.</i> The day was auspicious for our meeting. +Although very tired with the preparations, I wrote +my little screed, dressed, and went betimes to the +Hall, where I was expected to preside. I found it +prettily arranged, though at very small expense. I +wore as a badge a tiny Greek flag made of blue and +white ribbon, and brought badges of these colors for +the young ladies who were to take up the collection. +Many whom I had requested to come were present. +Sarah Whitman, Lizzie Agassiz, Mrs. Cornelius Felton, +Mrs. Fields, Mrs. Whitney, besides our Committee and +Mrs. Barrows. M. Anagnos gave us the band of the Institution,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229b" id="Page_229b">[229]</a></span> +which was a great help. They played several +times. I introduced C. G. Ames, who made a prayer. +My opening address followed. Mmes. Livermore and +Woolson, and Anagnos made the most important addresses. +As the band played 'America,' a young Greek +came in, bearing the Greek flag, which had quite a +dramatic effect. The meeting was enthusiastic and +the contribution unusual for such a meeting, three +hundred and ninety-seven dollars and odd cents. +Thank God for this success."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 13.... Head desperately bad in the morning.</i> +... Have done no good work to-day, brain being unserviceable. +Did, however, begin a short screed for my +speech at Unitarian Festival.</p> + +<p>"The Round Table was most interesting. Rev. S. J. +Barrows read a carefully studied monograph of the +Greek struggle for liberty. Mr. Robinson, of the Art +Museum, spoke mostly of the present desperate need. +I think I was called next. I characterized the Turks +as almost '<i>ferae naturae</i>.' Spoke of the low level of +European diplomacy. Said that we must fall back +upon the ethical people, but hope for a general world-movement +making necessary the adoption of a higher +level of international relation—look to the religious +world to uphold the principle that no religion can +henceforth be allowed to propagate itself by bloodshed."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 18.</i> A lecture at Westerly, Rhode Island.... +My lameness made the ascent of steps and stairs very +painful...."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 22.</i> Heard a delightful French Conference<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230b" id="Page_230b">[230]</a></span> +and reading from M. Louis. Had a fit of timidity +about the stairs, which were high and many; finally +got down. Had a worse one at home, where could not +get up the staircase on my feet, and had to execute +some curious gymnastics to get up at all."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 25.</i> My knee was very painful in the night, +and almost intolerable in the morning, so sent for +Wesselhoeft, who examined it and found the trouble +to proceed from an irritation of a muscle, probably +rheumatic in character. He prescribed entire rest and +threatened to use a splint if it should not soon be +better. I must give up some of my many engagements, +and cannot profit by the doings of this week, alas!"</p> + +<p>"<i>May 27.</i> I am to speak at the Unitarian Festival; +dinner at 5 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span></p> + +<p>"This is my seventy-eighth birthday. If the good +God sees fit to grant me another year, may He help +me to fill it with good work. I am still very lame, but +perhaps a little better for yesterday's massage. Gifts +of flowers from many friends began early to arrive, +and continued till late in the evening. The house was +resplendent and fragrant with them. I worried somewhat +about the evening's programme and what I +should say, but everything went well. Kind Dr. Baker +Flynt helped me, cushion and all, into Music Hall, and +several gentlemen assisted me to the platform, where +I was seated between the Chairman of the Festival +Committee and Robert Collyer.... I desired much +to have the word for the occasion, but I am not sure +whether I had."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 2.</i> My first day of 'solitary confinement.'..."</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231b" id="Page_231b">[231]</a></span> +<i>To Laura</i></p> + + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"><span class="smcap">241 Beacon Street,</span> June 2, 1897. +</div> + +<p>As poor Susan Bigelow once wrote me:—</p> + +<p> +"The Buffalo lies in his lonely lair,<br /> +No friend nor agent visits him there."<br /> +</p> + +<p>She was lame at the time, and I had once called her, +by mistake, "Mrs. Buffalo." Well, perfidious William,<a name="FNanchor_121_121" id="FNanchor_121_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_121_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a> +rivalling in tyranny the Sultan of Turkey, has forbidden +me to leave this floor. So here I sit, growly and +bad, but obliged to acquiescence in W.'s sentence....</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Affect.,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Muz-wuz</span>.</div></blockquote> + + +<p class="center"> +<i>To Maud</i></p> + +<blockquote> +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">241 Beacon Street</span>, June 4, 1897. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dearest dear Child</span>,—</p> + +<p>First place, darling, dismiss from your mind the idea +that reasonable people to-day believe that the souls of +men in the pre-Christian world were condemned and +lost. The old religions are generally considered to-day +as necessary steps in the religion of the human race, +and therefore as part of the plan of a beneficent Providence. +The Jews were people of especial religious +genius, producing a wonderful religious literature, and +Christianity, which came out of Judaism, is, to my +belief, the culmination of the religious sense of mankind. +But Paul himself says, speaking to the Athenians, +that "God hath not left himself without a witness," +at any time. I was brought up, of course, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232b" id="Page_232b">[232]</a></span> +the old belief, which I soon dismissed as irreconcilable +with any idea of a beneficent Deity. As for the doctrine +of regeneration, I think that by being born again +the dear Lord meant that we cannot apprehend spiritual +truths unless our minds are earnestly set upon +understanding them. To any one who has led a simple, +material life, without aspiration or moral reflection, +the change by which his attention becomes fastened +upon the nobler aspect of character and of life is really +like a new birth. We may say the same of the love +of high art and great literature. Some people turn +very suddenly from a frivolous or immoral life to a +better and more thoughtful way. They remember this +as a sudden conversion. In most of us, I think the +change is more gradual and natural. The better influences +win us from the evil things to which most of +us are in some way disposed. We have to seek the one +and to shun the other. I, for example, am very thankful +that my views of many things are unlike what they +were twenty or thirty or forty years ago. I attribute +this change mostly to good influences, reading, hearing +sermons and high conversation. These things often +begin in an effort of will to "move up higher." If I +write more about this, I shall muddle myself and you. +Only don't distress yourself about regeneration. I +think it mostly comes insensibly, like a child's +growth....</p> + +<p>I attended the memorial meeting at the unveiling +of the Shaw Monument. You can't think how beautiful +the work is. The ceremonies took place Monday, +beginning with a procession which came through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233b" id="Page_233b">[233]</a></span> +Beacon Street. Governor Wolcott, in a barouche and +four, distinctly bowed to me. The New York Seventh +Regiment came on and marched beautifully; our +Cadets marched about as well. There was also a +squad from our battleships, two of which were in the +harbor. At twelve o'clock we all went to Music Hall +where they sang my "Battle Hymn." The Governor +and Mayor and Colonel Harry Lee spoke. +Willie James gave the oration and Booker Washington +really made <i>the</i> address of the day, simple, balanced, +and very eloquent. I had a visit yesterday from Larz +and Isabel [Anderson]. He told me much about you. +Darling, this is a very poor letter, but much love goes +with it.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Affectionate<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mother</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>June 6.</i>... Have writ a note to little John Jeffries, +<i>aet.</i> six years, who sent me a note in his own +writing, with a dollar saved out of five cents per week, +for the 'poor Armenians.' He writes: 'I don't like +the Turks one bit. I think they are horrid.' Have sent +note and dollar to A. S. B. for the Armenian orphans."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 27, Oak Glen.</i> My first writing in this dear +place. Carrie Hall yesterday moved me down into dear +Chev's bedroom on the first floor, Wesselhoeft having +forbidden me to go up and down stairs. I rebelled +inwardly against this, but am compelled to acknowledge +that it is best so. Carrie showed great energy in +moving down all the small objects to which she supposed +me to be attached. I have now had an exquisite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234b" id="Page_234b">[234]</a></span> +sitting in my green parlor, reading a sermon of dear +James Freeman Clarke's."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 28.</i> Wrote my stint of 'Reminiscences' in +the morning.... At bedtime had very sober thoughts +of the limitation of life. It seemed to me that the end +might be near. My lameness and the painful condition +of my feet appear like warnings of a decline of +physical power, which could only lead one way. My +great anxiety is to see Maud before I depart."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 10.</i> I dreamed last night, or rather this morning, +that I was walking as of old, lightly and without +pain. I cried in my joy: 'Oh, some one has been mind-curing +me. My lameness has disappeared.' Have writ +a pretty good screed about John Brown."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 22.</i>... Dearest Maud and Jack arrived in the +evening. So welcome! I had not seen Jack in two years. +I had begun to fear that I was never to see Maud again."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 26.</i> Had a little time of quiet thought this +morning, in which I seemed to see how the intensity +of individual desire would make chaos in the world of +men and women if there were not a conquering and +reconciling principle of harmony above them all. This +to my mind can be no other than the infinite wisdom +and infinite love which we call God."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 18.</i> I prayed this morning for some direct +and definite service which I might render. At noon a +reporter from the 'New York Journal' arrived, beseeching +me to write something to help the young +Cuban girl, who is in danger of being sent to the +Spanish Penal Colony [Ceuta] in Africa. I wrote an +appeal in her behalf and suggested a cable to the Pope.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235b" id="Page_235b">[235]</a></span> +This I have already written. The Hearsts will send it. +This was an answer to my prayer. Our dear H. M. H. +arrived at 3 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>..."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 29.</i> Had a little service for my own people, +Flossy and her four children. Spoke of the importance +of religious culture. Read the parable of the wise +and foolish virgins. Flossy thought the wise ones +unkind not to be willing to share with the foolish. I +suggested that the oil pictured something which could +not be given in a minute. Cited Beecher's saying, +which I have so long remembered, that we cannot get +religion as we order a suit of clothes. If we live without +it, when some overwhelming distress or temptation +meets us, we shall not find either the consolation +or the strength which true faith gives."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 23.</i> Have just learned by cable from +Rome that my dearest sister Louisa died yesterday +morning. Let me rather hope that she awoke from +painful weakness and infirmity into a new glory of +spiritual life. Her life here has been most blameless, +as well as most beautiful. Transplanted to Rome in +her early youth and beauty, she became there a centre +of disinterested hospitality, of love and of charity. +She was as rare a person in her way as my sweet sister +Annie. Alas! I, of less desert than either, am left, +the last of my dear father's and mother's children. God +grant that my remaining may be for good! And God +help me to use faithfully my little remnant of life in setting +my house in order, and in giving such completeness +as I can to my life-work, or rather, to its poor efforts."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 25.</i> Was sad as death at waking, pondering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236b" id="Page_236b">[236]</a></span> +my many difficulties. The day is most lovely. I +have read two of Dr. Hedge's sermons and feel much +better. One is called 'The Comforter,' and was probably +written in view of the loss of friends by death. +It speaks of the spirit of a true life, which does not +pass away when the life is ended, but becomes more +and more dear and precious to loving survivors. The +text, from John xvi, 7: 'It is expedient for you that +I go away.' Have writ a good screed about the Rome +of 1843-44."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, September 27, 1897. +</div> + +<p>... My dear sister and I have lived so long far apart, +that it is difficult for me to have a <i>realizing sense</i> of +her departure. It is only at moments that I can feel +that we shall meet on earth no more. I grieve most +of all that my life has been so far removed from hers. +She has been a joy, a comfort, a delight to so many +people, and I have had so little of all this! The remembrance +of what I have had is indeed most precious, but +alas! for the long and wide separation. What an enviable +memory she leaves! No shadows to dim its beauty.</p> + +<p>I send you, dear, a statement regarding my relations +with Lee and Shepard. I am much disheartened about +my poems and almost feel like giving up. <i>But I won't.</i></p> + +<div class="signature"> +Affect., +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mother</span>. +</div></blockquote> + +<p><br />In November, 1897, she sailed for Italy with the +Elliotts.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237b" id="Page_237b">[237]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE LAST ROMAN WINTER</h3> + +<h4>1897-1898; <i>aet.</i> 78</h4> + +<p>THE CITY OF MY LOVE</p> + +<p> +She sits among th' eternal hills,<br /> +Their crown, thrice glorious and dear;<br /> +Her voice is as a thousand tongues<br /> +Of silver fountains, gurgling clear.<br /> +<br /> +Her breath is prayer, her life is love,<br /> +And worship of all lovely things;<br /> +Her children have a gracious port,<br /> +Her beggars show the blood of kings.<br /> +<br /> +By old Tradition guarded close,<br /> +None doubt the grandeur she has seen;<br /> +Upon her venerable front<br /> +Is written: "I was born a Queen!"<br /> +<br /> +She rules the age by Beauty's power,<br /> +As once she ruled by armèd might;<br /> +The Southern sun doth treasure her<br /> +Deep in his golden heart of light.<br /> +<br /> +Awe strikes the traveller when he sees<br /> +The vision of her distant dome,<br /> +And a strange spasm wrings his heart<br /> +As the guide whispers: "There is Rome!"<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> +<br /> +And, though it seem a childish prayer,<br /> +I've breathed it oft, that when I die,<br /> +As thy remembrance dear in it,<br /> +That heart in thee might buried lie.<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + + +<p><br />The closing verse of her early poem, "The City of +My Love," expresses the longing that, like Shelley's, +her heart "might buried lie" in Rome. Some memory +of this wish, some foreboding that the wish might be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238b" id="Page_238b">[238]</a></span> +granted, possibly darkened the first days of her last +Roman winter. In late November of the year 1897 +she arrived in Rome with the Elliotts to pass the +winter at their apartment in the ancient Palazzo +Rusticucci of the old Leonine City across the Tiber; +in the shadow of St. Peter's, next door to the Vatican. +The visit had been planned partly in the hope that she +might once more see her sister Louisa. In this we know +she was disappointed. They reached Rome at the beginning +of the rainy season, which fell late that year. +All these causes taken together account for an unfamiliar +depression that creeps into the Journal. She +missed, too, the thousand interests of her Boston life; +her church, her club, her meetings, all the happy business +of keeping a grandmother's house where three +generations and their friends were made welcome. At +home every hour of time was planned for, every ounce +of power well invested in some "labor worthy of her +metal." In Rome her only work at first was the writing +of her "Reminiscences" for the "Atlantic Monthly." +Happily, the depression was short-lived. Gradually +the ancient spell of the Great Enchantress once more +enthralled her, but it was not until she had founded a +club, helped to found a Woman's Council, begun to +receive invitations to lecture and to preach, that the +accustomed <i>joie de vivre</i> pulses through the record. +The sower is at work again, the ground is fertile, the +seed quickening.</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>December 1.</i> The first day of this winter, which +God help me to live through! Dearest Maud is all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239b" id="Page_239b">[239]</a></span> +kindness and devotion to me, and so is Jack, but I +have Rome <i>en grippe</i>; nothing in it pleases me."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 6.</i> Something, perhaps it is the bright +weather, moves me to activity so strongly that I hasten +to take up my pen, hoping not to lapse into the +mood of passive depression which has possessed me +ever since my arrival in Rome."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 7.</i> We visited the [William J.] Stillmans—S. +and I had not met in thirty years, not since '67 +in Athens. Went to afternoon tea at Miss Leigh +Smith's. She is a cousin of Florence Nightingale, +whom she resembles in appearance. Mme. Helbig +was there, overflowing as ever with geniality and +kindness."</p> + + +<p><br />Mr. Stillman was then the Roman correspondent of +the London "Times," a position only second in importance +to that of the British Ambassador. His tall, lean +figure, stooping shoulders,—where a pet squirrel often +perched,—his long grey beard and keen eyes were +familiar to the Romans of that day. His house was a +meeting-place for artists and <i>litterati</i>. Mrs. Stillman +our mother had formerly known as the beautiful Marie +Spartali, the friend of Rossetti and Du Maurier, the +idol of literary and artistic London. A warm friendship +grew up between them. Together they frequented +the antiquaries, gleaning small treasures of ancient +lace and peasant jewels.</p> + +<p>"I bought this by the Muse Stillman's advice": +this explanation guaranteed the wisdom of purchasing +the small rose diamond ring set in black enamel.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240b" id="Page_240b">[240]</a></span>"<i>December 9.</i> Dined with Daisy Chanler. We met +there one Brewster and Hendrik Anderson. After +dinner came Palmer [son of Courtland] and his sister. +He is a pianist of real power and charm—made me +think of Paderewski, when I first heard him...."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 10.</i> Drove past the Trevi Fountain and +to the Coliseum, where we walked awhile. Ladies +came to hear me talk about Women's Clubs. This +talk, which I had rather dreaded to give, passed off +pleasantly.... Most of the ladies present expressed +the desire to have a small and select club of women +in Rome. Maud volunteered to make the first effort, +with Mme. DesGrange and Jessie Cochrane to help +her."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 12.</i> Bessie Crawford brought her children +to see me. Very fine little creatures, the eldest boy<a name="FNanchor_122_122" id="FNanchor_122_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_122_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> +handsome, dark like his mother, the others blond and +a good deal like Marion in his early life."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 14.</i> In the afternoon drove with Jack to +visit Villegas. Found a splendid house with absolutely +no fire—the cold of the studio was tomb-like. A fire +was lighted in a stove and cakes were served, with +some excellent Amontillado wine, which I think saved +my life."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 18.</i> When I lay down to take my nap +before dinner, I had a sudden thought-vision of the +glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. I seemed to +see how the human could in a way reflect the glory +of the divine, giving not a mechanical, but an affectional<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241b" id="Page_241b">[241]</a></span> +and spiritual re-showing of the great unfathomable +glory. I need not say that I had no sleep—I +wish the glimpse then given me might remain in my +mind."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 21.</i> Feeling much better in health, I +determined to take up my 'Reminiscences' again. +Mme. Rose passed the evening with me. She told me +that Pio Nono had endorsed the Rosminian philosophy, +which had had quite a following in the Church, +Cardinal Hohenlohe having been very prominent in +this. When Leo XIII was elected, the Jesuits came +to him and promised that he should have a Jubilee if +he would take part against the Rosminian ideas, and +put the books on the Index Expurgatorius, the which +he promptly did. Hohenlohe is supposed to have been +the real hero of the poisoning described in Zola's +'Rome'—his servant died after having eaten of something +which had been sent from the Vatican."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 25.</i> Blessed Christmas Day! Maud and +I went to St. Peter's to get, as she said, a whiff of the +mass. We did not profit much by this, but met Edward +Jackson, of Boston, and Monsignor Stanley, whom I +had not seen in many years. We had a pleasant foregathering +with him.</p> + +<p>"In St. Peter's my mind became impressed with +the immense intellectual force pledged to the upbuilding +and upholding of the Church of Rome. As this +thought almost overpowered me, I remembered our +dear Christ visiting the superb temple at Jerusalem +and foretelling its destruction and the indestructibility +of his own doctrine."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242b" id="Page_242b">[242]</a></span>On fair days she took her walk on the terrace, feasting +her eyes on the splendid view. In the distance the +Alban and the Sabine Hills, Mount Soracte and the +Leonessa; close at hand the Tiber, Rome's towers and +domes, St. Peter's with the colonnade, the Piazza, and +the sparkling fountains. She delighted in the flowers of +the terrace, which she called her "hanging garden"; she +had her own little watering-pot, and faithfully tended +the white rose which she claimed as her special charge. +From the terrace she looked across to the windows of +the Pope's private apartment. Opposed as she was +to the Pontiff's policy, she still felt a sympathy with +the old man, whose splendid prison she often passed +on her way to St. Peter's, where in bad weather she +always took her walk.</p> + +<p>"<i>December 31.</i> I am sorry to take leave of this year, +which has given me many good things, some blessings +in disguise, as my lameness proved, compelling me +to pass many quiet days, good for study and for my +'Reminiscences,' which I only began in earnest after +Wesselhoeft condemned me to remain on one floor for +a month."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 3, 1898.</i> I feel that my 'Reminiscences' +will be disappointing to the world in general, if it ever +troubles itself to read them,—I feel quite sure that +it has neglected some good writing of mine, in verse +and in prose. I cannot help anticipating for this book +the same neglect, and this discourages me somewhat.</p> + +<p>"In the afternoon drove to Monte Janiculo and +saw the wonderful view of Rome, and the equestrian +statue of Garibaldi crowning the height. We also<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243b" id="Page_243b">[243]</a></span> +drove through the Villa Pamfili Doria, which is very +beautiful."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 6.</i> To visit Countess Catucci at Villino +Catucci. She was a Miss Mary Stearns, of Springfield, +Massachusetts. Her husband has been an officer +of the King's bersaglieri. Before the unification of +Italy, he was sent to Perugia to reclaim deserters from +among the recruits for the Italian army. Cardinal +Pecci was then living near Perugia. Count Catucci +called to assure him with great politeness that he +would take his word and not search his premises. The +Cardinal treated him with equal politeness, but declined +to continue the acquaintance after his removal +to Rome, when he became Pope in 1878."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 12.</i> The first meeting of our little circle—at +Miss Leigh Smith's, 17 Trinità dei Monti. I presided +and introduced Richard Norton, who gave an +interesting account of the American School of Archæology +at Athens, and of the excavations at Athens.... +Anderson to dine. He took a paper outline of my profile, +wishing to model a bust of me."</p> + + +<p><br />The Winthrop Chanlers were passing the winter in +Rome; this added much to her pleasure. The depression +gradually disappeared, and she found herself +once more at home there. She met many people +who interested her: Hall Caine, Björnstjerne Björnson, +many artists too. Don José Villegas, the great +Spanish painter (now Director of the Prado Museum +at Madrid), who was living in his famous Moorish +villa on the Monte Parioli, made a brilliant, realistic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244b" id="Page_244b">[244]</a></span> +portrait of her, and Hendrik Anderson, the Norwegian-American +sculptor, modelled an interesting terra-cotta +bust. While the sittings for these portraits were going +on, her niece said to her:—</p> + +<p>"My aunt, I can expect almost anything of you, but +I had hardly expected a <i>succès de beauté</i>."</p> + +<p>Among the diplomats who play so prominent a part +in Roman society, the Jonkheer John Loudon, Secretary +of the Netherlands Legation, was one of her favorite +visitors; there are frequent mentions of his singing, +which she took pleasure in accompanying.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 15.</i> We had a pleasant drive to Villa +Madama where we bought fresh eggs from a peasant. +Cola cut much greenery for us with which Maud had +our rooms decorated. Attended Mrs. Heywood's reception, +where met some pleasant people—the Scudder +party; an English Catholic named Christmas, who +visits the poor, and reports the misery among them as +very great; a young priest from Boston, Monsignor +O'Connell;<a name="FNanchor_123_123" id="FNanchor_123_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_123_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a> a Mr. and Mrs. Mulhorn, Irish,—he +strong on statistics, she a writer on Celtic antiquities,—has +published a paper on the Celtic origin of the +'Divina Commedia,' and has written one on the discovery +of America by Irish Danes, five hundred years +before Columbus."</p> + + +<p><br />Mr. and Mrs. J. C. Heywood lived a few doors from +the Rusticucci in the Palazzo Giraud Torlonia, one +of the finest Roman palaces. Mr. Heywood held an +office in the Papal Court, and had a papal title which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245b" id="Page_245b">[245]</a></span> +he was wise enough not to use in general society. He +was an American, a Harvard graduate of the class of +1855. His chief occupation, outside of his duties at the +Vatican, was the collection of a fine library. His house +was a rendezvous of Black<a name="FNanchor_124_124" id="FNanchor_124_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_124_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a> society. He lived in much +state and entertained with brilliant formality. Among +the great social events of that winter was his reception +given for Cardinal Satolli, who arrived dressed in +splendid vestments, escorted by his suite. The hostess +courtesied to the ground and kissed the ring on his +finger. All the other Catholic ladies followed suit. +Sitting very straight in her chair, our mother bided her +time; finally the Cardinal was brought to her. He was +a genial, courteous man and very soon they were +deep in friendly talk. Though she disliked the Roman +hierarchy as an institution, she counted many friends +among the priests of Rome.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 18.</i> To St. Peter's. The Festival of St. +Peter's Chair. Vespers in the usual side chapel. Music +on the whole good, some sopranos rather ragged, but +parts beautifully sung. Was impressed as usual by the +heterogeneous attendance—tourists with campstools +and without, ecclesiastics of various grades, students, +friars; one splendid working-man in his corduroys +stood like a statue, in an attitude of fixed attention. +Lowly fathers and mothers carrying small children. +One lady, seated high at the base of a column, put her +feet on the seat of my stool behind me. Saw the gorgeous +ring on the finger of the statue of St. Peter."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 19.</i> Have composed a letter to Professor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246b" id="Page_246b">[246]</a></span> +Lanciani, asking for a talk on the afternoon of February +9, proposing 'Houses and Housekeeping in Ancient +Rome,' and 'The Sibyls of Italy.' Mr. Baddeley came +in, and we had an interesting talk, mostly about the +ancient Cæsars, Mrs. Hollins asking, 'Why did the Romans +put up with the bad Cæsars?' He thought the +increase of wealth under Augustus was the beginning +of a great deterioration of the people and the officials."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 21.</i> Went in the afternoon to call upon +Baroness Giacchetti. Had a pleasant talk with her +husband, an enlightened man. He recognizes the present +status of Rome as greatly superior to the ancient +order of things—but laments the ignorance and superstition +of the common people in general, and the +peasantry in particular. A sick woman, restored to +health by much trouble taken at his instance, instead +of thanking him for his benefactions, told him that +she intended to make a pilgrimage to the shrine of a +certain Madonna, feeling sure that it was to her that +she owed her cure."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 26.</i> The day of my reading before the +Club, at Jessie Cochrane's rooms. I read my lecture +over very carefully in the forenoon and got into the +spirit of it. The gathering was a large one, very attentive, +and mostly very appreciative. The paper was +'Woman in the Greek Drama.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>January 31.</i> Have made a special prayer that my +mind may be less occupied with my own shortcomings, +and more with all that keeps our best hope alive. Felt +little able to write, but produced a good page on the +principle '<i>nulla dies sine linea</i>.'"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247b" id="Page_247b">[247]</a></span>"<i>February 4.</i> Hard sledding for words to-day—made +out something about Theodore Parker."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 7.</i> Wrote some pages of introduction for +the Symposium—played a rubber of whist with +L. Terry; then to afternoon tea with Mrs. Thorndike, +where I met the first Monsignor [Dennis] O'Connell, +with whom I had a long talk on the woman question, +in which he seems much interested. He tells me of +a friend, Zahm by name, now gone to a place in Indiana, +who has biographies of the historical women of +Bologna."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 9.</i> Club at Mrs. Broadwood's. I read my +'Plea for Humor,' which seemed to please the audience +very much, especially Princess Talleyrand and Princess +Poggia-Suasa."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 11.</i> Read over my paper on 'Optimism +and Pessimism' and have got into the spirit of it. +Maud's friends came at 3 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>, among them Christian +Ross, the painter, with Björnstjerne Björnson."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 16.</i> To Mrs. Hurlburt's reception.—Talked +with Countess Blank, an American married to +a Pole. She had much to say of the piety of her Arab +servant, who, she says, swallows fire, cuts himself with +sharp things, etc., as acts of devotion!! Met Mr. +Trench, son of the late Archbishop, Rev. Chevenix +Trench. He has been Tennyson's publisher. Did not +like T. personally—said he was often rude—read +his own poems aloud constantly and very badly; said, +'No man is a hero to his publisher.' Told about his +sale of Henry George's book, a cheap edition, one +hundred and fifty thousand copies sold in England."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248b" id="Page_248b">[248]</a></span>"<i>February 18.</i> Have done a good morning's work +and read in the 'Nineteenth Century' an article on +Nelson, and one on the new astronomy. St. Thomas +Aquinas's advice regarding the election of an abbot +from three candidates:—</p> + +<p>"'What manner of man is the first?'</p> + +<p>"'<i>Doctissimus.</i>'</p> + +<p>"'<i>Doceat</i>,' says St. Thomas. 'And the second?'</p> + +<p>"'<i>Sanctissimus.</i>'</p> + +<p>"'<i>Oret!</i> and the third?'</p> + +<p>"'<i>Prudentissimus!</i>'</p> + +<p>"'<i>Regat!</i> Let him rule!' says the Saint."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 20.</i> To Methodist Church of Rev. Mr. +Burt. A sensible short discourse—seems a very sincere +man: has an earlier service for Italians, well +attended. On my way home, stopped at Gargiulo's +and bought a ragged but very good copy of the +'Divina Commedia,' unbound, with Doré's illustrations."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 26.</i> To tea at Mrs. Hazeltine's where met +William Allen Butler, author of 'Nothing to Wear'—a +bright-eyed, conversable man. Have a sitting to +Anderson. When I returned from Mrs. Hazeltine's I +found Hall Caine.... He told much about Gabriel +Rossetti, with whom he had much to do. Rossetti was +a victim of chloral, and Caine was set to keep him +from it, except in discreet doses."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 4.</i> Went to see the King and Queen, returning +from the review of troops. They were coldly +received. She wore crimson velvet—he was on horseback +and in uniform...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249b" id="Page_249b">[249]</a></span>"<i>March 9.</i> Club at Jessie Cochrane's; young Loyson, +son of Père Hyacinthe, gave an interesting lecture on +the religion of Ancient Rome, which he traced back to +its rude Latin beginning; the Sabines, he thought, introduced +into it one element of spirituality. Its mythology +was borrowed from Greece and from the Etruscans—later +from Egypt and the East. The Primitive +Aryan religion was the worship of ancestors. This also +we see in Rome. A belief in immortality appears in +the true Aryan faith. Man, finding himself human, +and related to the divine, felt that he could not die."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 15</i>.... Mme. Helbig gave us an account of +the Russian pilgrimage which came here lately. Many +of the pilgrims were peasants. They travelled from +Russia on foot, wearing bark shoes, which are very +yielding and soft. These Russian ladies deprecated the +action of Peter the Great in building St. Petersburg, +and in forcing European civilization upon his nation, +when still unprepared for it."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 18</i>.... Drove with Maud, to get white +thorn from Villa Madama. Went afterwards to Mrs. +Waldo Story's reception, where met Mrs. McTavish, +youngest daughter of General Winfield Scott. I was +at school with one of her older sisters, Virginia, who +became a nun."</p> + + +<p><br />As the winter wore away and the early Roman +spring broke, the last vestige of the discomfort of the +first weeks vanished. The daily drives to the country +in search of wild flowers were an endless delight, as +well as the trips to the older quarters of the city. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250b" id="Page_250b">[250]</a></span> +found that, while during the first weeks she had lost +the habit of looking keenly about at the sights, the old +joy soon came back to her, and now she was quick to +see every picturesque figure in the crowd, every classic +fragment in the architecture. "The power of seeing +beautiful things, like all other powers, must be exercised +to be preserved," she once said.</p> + +<p>"<i>March 19.</i> I have not dared to work to-day, as I +am to read this afternoon. The reading was well attended +and was more than well received. Hall Caine +came afterwards, and talked long about the Bible. He +does not appear to be familiar with the most recent +criticism of either Old or New Testament."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 24.</i> 'There is a third silent party to all our +bargains.' [Emerson.]</p> + +<p>"I find this passage in his essay on 'Compensation' +to-day for the first time, having written my essay on +'Moral Triangulation of the Third Party' some thirty +years ago."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 26.</i> Dined with Mrs. McCreary—the Duke +of San Martino took me in to dinner—Monsignor +Dennis O'Connell sat on the other side of me. I had +an interesting talk with him. Mrs. McCreary sang my +'Battle Hymn.' They begged me to recite 'The Flag,' +which I did. Mrs. Pearse, daughter of Mario and +Grisi, sang delightfully."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 30.</i> A fine luncheon party given by Mrs. +Iddings, wife of the American Secretary of Embassy +at the Grand Hotel. Mme. Ristori was there; I had +some glimpses of reminiscence with her. I met her +with 'La terribil' Medea,' which I so well remember<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251b" id="Page_251b">[251]</a></span> +hearing from her. I presently quoted her toast in 'La +Locandiera,' of which she repeated the last two lines. +Maud had arranged to have Mrs. Hurlburt help me +home. Contessa Spinola also offered, but I got off +alone, came home in time to hear most of Professor +Pansotti's lecture on the Gregorian music, which, +though technical, was interesting."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 31.</i> I woke up at one, after vividly dreaming +of my father and Dr. Francis. My father came in, +and said to me that he wished to speak to Miss Julia +alone. I trembled, as I so often did, lest I was about +to receive some well-merited rebuke. He said that he +wished my sister and me to stay at home more. I saw +the two faces very clearly. My father's I had not seen +for fifty-nine years."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 6.</i> Went in the afternoon with Mrs. Stillman +to the Campo dei Fiori, where bought two pieces of +lace for twenty <i>lire</i> each, and a little cap-pin for five +<i>lire</i>. Saw a small ruby and diamond ring which I very +much fancied."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 10.</i> Easter Sunday, passed quietly at home. +Had an early walk on the terrace.... A good talk with +Hamilton Aïdé, who told me of the Spartali family. +In the afternoon to Lady Kenmare's reception and +later to dine with the Lindall Winthrops."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 11.</i> In the afternoon Harriet Monroe, of +Chicago, came and read her play—a parlor drama, +ingenious and well written. The audience were much +pleased with it."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 13</i>.... In the evening dined with Theodore +Davis and Mrs. Andrews. Davis showed us his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252b" id="Page_252b">[252]</a></span> +treasures gathered on the Nile shore and gave me a +scarab."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 18.</i>... Went to hear Canon Farrar on the +'Inferno' of Dante—the lecture very scholarly and +good."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 22.</i> With Anderson to the Vatican, to see +the Pinturicchio frescoes, which are very interesting. +He designed the tiling for the floors, which is beautiful +in color, matching well with the frescoes—these +represent scenes in the life of the Virgin and of St. +Catherine...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 24.</i> To Miss Leigh Smith's, where I read my +sermon on the 'Still Small Voice' to a small company +of friends, explaining that it was written in the first +instance for the Concord Prison, and that I read it +there to the convicts. I prefaced the sermon by reading +one of the parables in my 'Later Lyrics,' 'Once, +where men of high pretension,' etc...."</p> + +<p>This was one of several occasions when she read a +sermon at the house of Miss Leigh Smith, a stanch +Unitarian, who lived at the Trinità de' Monti in the +house near the top of the Spanish Steps, held by generations +of English and American residents the most +advantageous dwelling in Rome. On Sunday mornings, +when the bells of Rome thrilled the air with the +call to prayer, a group of exiles from many lands +gathered in the pleasant English-looking drawing-room. +From the windows they could look down +upon the flower-decked Piazza di Spagna, hear the +song of the nightingales in the Villa Medici, breathe +the perfume of violets and almond blossoms from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253b" id="Page_253b">[253]</a></span> +the Pincio. This morning, or another, Paul Sabatier +was among the listeners, a grave, gracious man, a +Savoyard pastor, whose "Life of Saint Francis of +Assisi" had set all Rome talking.</p> + +<p>"<i>April 25.</i> To lunch with the Drapers. Had some +good talk with Mr. D. [the American Ambassador]. +He was brought up at Hopedale in the Community, +of which his father was a member, his mother not +altogether acquiescing. He went into our Civil War +when only twenty years of age, having the day before +married a wife. He was badly wounded in the battle +of the Wilderness. Mosby [guerilla] met the wounded +train, and stripped them of money and watches, taking +also the horses of their conveyances. A young +Irish lad of fourteen saved Draper's life by running to +Bull Plain for aid."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 26.</i> Lunch at Daisy Chanler's, to meet Mrs. +Sanford, of Hamilton, Canada, who is here in the +interests of the International Council of Women. She +seems a nice, whole-souled woman.... I have promised +to preside at a meeting, called at Daisy's rooms for +Thursday, to carry forward such measures as we can +and to introduce Mrs. Sanford and interpret for her."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 27.</i> Devoted the forenoon to a composition in +French, setting forth the objects of the meeting...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 28.</i> Went carefully over my French address. +In the afternoon attended the meeting at Daisy's +where I presided."</p> + +<p>This was the first time the Italian women had taken +part in the International Council.</p> + +<p>"<i>April 30.</i> To Contessa di Taverna at Palazzo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254b" id="Page_254b">[254]</a></span> +Gabrielli, where I met the little knot of newly elected +officers of the Council of Italian Women that is to +be. Read them my report of our first meeting—they +chattered a great deal. Mrs. Sanford was present. +She seemed grateful for the help I had tried to give to +her plan of a National Council of Italian Women. I +induced the ladies present to subscribe a few <i>lire</i> each, +for the purchase of a book for the secretary, for postage +and for the printing of their small circular. Hope to +help them more further on...."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 1.</i>... I gave my 'Rest' sermon at Miss +Leigh Smith's.... Afterwards to lunch with the dear +Stillman Muse. Lady Airlie and the Thynne sisters +were there. Had a pleasant talk with Lady Beatrice.... +Wrote a letter to be read at the Suffrage Festival +in Boston on May 17...."</p> + +<p>Lady Beatrice and Lady Katherine Thynne; the +latter was married later to Lord Cromer, Viceroy of +Egypt. The Ladies Thynne were passing the winter +with their cousin, the Countess of Kenmare, at her +pleasant apartment in the Via Gregoriana. Among +the guests one met at Lady Kenmare's was a dark, +handsome Monsignore who spoke English like an +Oxford Don, and looked like a Torquemada. Later +he became Papal Secretary of State and Cardinal +Merry del Val.</p> + +<p>"<i>May 2.</i> Have worked as usual. A pleasant late +drive. Dined with Eleutherio,<a name="FNanchor_125_125" id="FNanchor_125_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_125_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a> Daisy Chanler, and +Dr. Bull; whist afterwards; news of an engagement +and victory for us off Manila."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255b" id="Page_255b">[255]</a></span> +"<i>May 4</i>.... We dined with Marchese and Marchesa +de Viti de Marco at Palazzo Orsini. Their rooms +are very fine, one hung with beautiful crimson damask. +An author, Pascarello, was present, who has written +comic poems in the Romanesque dialect, the principal +one a mock narrative of the discovery of America by +Columbus. Our host is a very intelligent man, much +occupied with questions of political economy, of which +science he is professor at the Collegio Romano. His +wife, an American, is altogether pleasing. He spoke +of the present Spanish War, of which foreigners understand +but little."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 5.</i> A visit from Contessa di Taverna to confer +with me about the new departure [the International +Council of Women]. She says that the ladies will not +promise to pay the stipulated contribution, five hundred +<i>lire</i> once in five years, to the parent association...."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 8.</i> An exquisite hour with dear Maud on the +terrace—the roses in their glory, red, white, and yellow; +honeysuckle out, brilliant. We sat in a sheltered +spot, talked of things present and to come. Robert +Collyer to lunch. I asked him to say grace, which +he did in his lovely manner. He enjoyed Maud's +terrace with views of St. Peter's and the mountains. +In the afternoon took a little drive.</p> + +<p>"Several visitors called, among them Louisa Broadwood, +from whom I learned that the little Committee +for a Woman's Council is going on. The ladies have +decided not to join the International at present, but +to try and form an Italian Council first. Some good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256b" id="Page_256b">[256]</a></span> +results are already beginning to appear in the coöperation +of two separate charities in some part of their +work."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 9.</i> I must now give all diligence to my preparation +for departure. Cannot write more on 'Reminiscences' +until I reach home. Maud made a dead set +against my going to Countess Resse's where a number +of ladies had been invited to meet me. I most unwillingly +gave up this one opportunity of helping the +Woman's Cause; I mean this one remaining occasion, +as I have already spoken twice to women and have +given two sermons and read lectures five times. It +is true that there might have been some exposure in +going to Mme. R.'s, especially in coming out after +speaking."</p> + +<p>A few years after this, the Association which she +did so much to found, held the first Woman's Congress +ever given in Italy, at the Palace of Justice in Rome. +It was an important and admirably conducted convention. +The work for the uplift of the sex is going +on steadily and well in Italy to-day.</p> + +<p>"<i>May 12.</i> Sat to Villegas all forenoon. Had a little +time on the terrace. Thought I would christen it the +'Praise God.' The flowers seem to me to hold their +silent high mass, swinging their own censers of sweet +incense. Went to Jack's studio and saw his splendid +work.<a name="FNanchor_126_126" id="FNanchor_126_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_126_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a> In the afternoon went with my brother-in-law +to the cemetery to visit dear Louisa's grave. Jack had +cut for me many fine roses from the terrace. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257b" id="Page_257b">[257]</a></span> +dropped many on this dear resting-place of one much +and justly beloved.... Dear old Majesty of Rome, +this is my last writing here. I thank God most earnestly +for so much."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258b" id="Page_258b">[258]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>EIGHTY YEARS</h3> + +<h4>1899-1900; <i>aet.</i> 80-81</h4> + + +<p>HUMANITY</p> + +<p> +Methought a moment that I stood<br /> +Where hung the Christ upon the Cross,<br /> +Just when mankind had writ in blood<br /> +The record of its dearest loss.<br /> +<br /> +The bitter drink men offered him<br /> +His kingly gesture did decline,<br /> +And my heart sought, in musing dim,<br /> +Some cordial for those lips divine.<br /> +<br /> +When lo! a cup of purest gold<br /> +My trembling fingers did uphold;<br /> +Within it glowed a wine as red<br /> +As hearts, not grapes, its drops had shed.<br /> +Drink deep, my Christ, I offer thee<br /> +The ransom of Humanity.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + +<blockquote><p>Though Jesus, alas! is as little understood in doctrine as followed in +example. For he has hitherto been like a beautiful figure set to point out +a certain way, and people at large have been so entranced with worshipping +the figure, that they have neglected to follow the direction it indicates.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The winter of 1898-99 saw the publication of "From +Sunset Ridge; Poems Old and New." This volume +contained many of the poems from "Later Lyrics" +(long out of print), and also much of her later work. +It met with a warm recognition which gave her much +pleasure.</p> + +<p>Late in 1899 appeared the "Reminiscences," on +which she had been so long at work. These were even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259b" id="Page_259b">[259]</a></span> +more warmly received, though many people thought +them too short. Colonel Higginson said the work +might have been "spread out into three or four interesting +octavos; but in her hurried grasp it is squeezed +into one volume, where groups of delightful interviews +with heroes at home and abroad are crowded into +some single sentence."</p> + +<p>The book was written mostly from memory, with +little use of the Journals, and none of the family letters +and papers, which she had carefully preserved through +many years; she needed none of these things. Her past +was always alive, and she went hand in hand with its +dear and gracious figures.</p> + +<p>But we have outstripped the Journals and must go +back to the beginning of 1899.</p> + +<p>"[<i>Boston.</i>] <i>January 1, 1899.</i> I begin this year with +an anxious mind. I am fighting the Wolf, hand to +hand. I am also confused between the work already +done on my 'Reminiscences,' and that still wanting +to give them some completeness. May the All-Father +help me!"</p> + +<p>"<i>January 9.</i> Dined with the Massachusetts Press +Club Association. I made a little speech partly +thought out beforehand. The best bit in it—'Why +should we fear to pass from the Old Testament of our +own liberties, to the New Testament of liberty for all +the world?'—came to me on the spur of the moment...."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 16.</i> ... Dickens Party at the New England +Woman's Club. I despaired of being able to go, +but did manage to get up a costume and take part.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260b" id="Page_260b">[260]</a></span> +Many very comical travesties, those of Pickwick and +Captain Cuttle remarkably good; also Lucia M. Peabody +as Martin Chuzzlewit, and Mrs. Godding in full +male dress suit. I played a Virginia reel and finally +danced myself."</p> + +<p>The part she herself took on this occasion was that +of Mrs. Jellyby, a character she professed to resemble. +At another club party she impersonated Mrs. Jarley, +with a fine collection of celebrities, which she exhibited +proudly. She always put on her best motley +for her "dear Club"; and in those days its fooling +was no less notable than its wisdom. Among other +things, she instituted the Poetical Picnics, picnic suppers +to which every member must bring an original +poem: some of her best nonsense was recited at these +suppers.</p> + +<p>It has been said that she had the gift of the word +in season. This was often shown at the Club; especially +when, as sometimes happened, a question of +the hour threatened to become "burning." It is remembered +how one day a zealous sister thundered so +loud against corporal punishment that some mothers +and grandames were roused to equally ardent rejoinder. +The President was appealed to.</p> + +<p>"<i>Dear</i> Mrs. Howe, I am sure that <i>you</i> never laid a +hand on <i>your</i> children!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said dear Mrs. Howe. "I cuffed 'em a +bit when I thought they needed it!"</p> + +<p>Even "militancy" could be touched lightly by her. +Talk was running high on the subject one day; eyes +began to flash ominously, voices took on "a wire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261b" id="Page_261b">[261]</a></span> +edge," as she expressed it. Again the appeal was +made.</p> + +<p>"Can you imagine, Mrs. Howe, under <i>any</i> circumstances—"</p> + +<p>The twinkle came into the gray eyes. "Well!" she +said. "I am pretty old, but I <i>think</i> I could manage +a broomstick!"</p> + +<p>The tension broke in laughter, and the sisters were +sisters once more.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 23.</i> Worked as usual. Attended the meeting +in favor of the Abolition of the Death Penalty, +which was interesting.... I spoke on the ground of +hope."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 7.</i> ... I hope to take life more easily +now than for some time past, and to have rest from +the slavery of pen and ink."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 28.</i> ... Was interviewed by a Miss X, +who has persevered in trying to see me, and at last +brought a note from ——. She is part editor of a +magazine named 'Success,' and, having effected an +entrance, proceeded to interview me, taking down my +words for her magazine, thus getting my ideas without +payment, a very mean proceeding...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 21.</i> Tuskegee benefit, Hollis Street Theatre.</p> + +<p>"This meeting scored a triumph, not only for the +performers, but for the race. Bishop Lawrence presided +with much good grace and appreciation. Paul +Dunbar was the least distinct. Professor Dubois, of +Atlanta University, read a fine and finished discourse. +Booker Washington was eloquent as usual, and the +Hampton quartet was delightful. At the tea which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262b" id="Page_262b">[262]</a></span> +followed at Mrs. Whitman's studio, I spoke with these +men and with Dunbar's wife, a nearly white woman +of refined appearance. I asked Dubois about the +negro vote in the South. He thought it better to have +it legally taken away than legally nullified."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 17.</i> Kindergarten for the Blind.... I hoped +for a good word to say, but could only think of Shakespeare's +'The evil that men do lives after them; the +good is oft interred with their bones,' intending to +say that this does not commend itself to me as true. +Mr. Eels spoke before me and gave me an occasion +to use this with more point than I had hoped. He +made a rather flowery discourse, and eulogized Annie +Sullivan and Helen Keller as a new experience in +human society. In order to show how the good that +men do survives them, I referred to Dr. Howe's first +efforts for the blind and to his teaching of Laura +Bridgman, upon whom I dwelt somewhat...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 23.</i>... Had a sort of dream-vision of the +dear Christ going through Beacon Street in shadow, +and then in his glory. It was only a flash of a moment's +thought...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 25.</i> To Alliance, the last meeting of the +season. Mrs. —— spoke, laying the greatest emphasis +on women acting so as to <i>express themselves in +freedom</i>. This ideal of self-expression appears to me +insufficient and dangerous, if taken by itself. I mentioned +its insufficiency, while recognizing its importance. +I compared feminine action under the old +limitations to the touching of an electric eel, which +immediately gives one a paralyzing shock. I spoke also<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263b" id="Page_263b">[263]</a></span> +of the new woman world as at present constituted, as +like the rising up from the sea of a new continent. In +my own youth women were isolated from each other +by the very intensity of their personal consciousness. +I thought of myself and of other women in this way. +We thought that superior women ought to have been +born men. A blessed change is that which we have +witnessed."</p> + + +<p><br />As her eightieth birthday drew nigh, her friends +vied with one another in loving observance of the +time. The festivities began May 17 with a meeting of +the New England Women's Press Association, where +she gave a lecture on "Patriotism in Literature" and +received "eighty beautiful pink roses for my eighty +years."</p> + +<p>Next came the "annual meeting and lunch of the +New England Woman's Club. This took the character +of a pre-celebration of my eightieth birthday, +and was highly honorific. I can only say that I do +not think of myself as the speakers seemed to think +of me. Too deeply do I regret my seasons of rebellion, +and my shortcomings in many duties. Yet am I +thankful for so much good-will. I only deserve it +because I return it."</p> + +<p>Between this and the day itself came a memorial +meeting in honor of the ninety-sixth anniversary of +Emerson's birth. Here she spoke "mostly of the ladies +of his family"—Emerson's mother and his wife. Said +also, "Emerson was as great in what he did not say as +in what he said. Second-class talent tells the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264b" id="Page_264b">[264]</a></span> +story, reasons everything out; great genius suggests +even more than it says."</p> + +<p>She was already what she used to call "Boston's +old spoiled child!" All through the birthday flowers, +letters, and telegrams poured into the house. From +among the tokens of love and reverence may be chosen +the quatrain sent by Richard Watson Gilder:—</p> + +<p> +"How few have rounded out so full a life!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Priestess of righteous war and holy peace,</span><br /> +Poet and sage, friend, sister, mother, wife,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Long be it ere that noble heart shall cease!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The "Woman's Journal" issued a special Birthday +number. It was a lovely and heart-warming anniversary, +the pleasure of which long remained with +her.</p> + +<p>Among the guests was the beloved physician of many +years, William P. Wesselhoeft. Looking round on the +thronged and flower-decked rooms, he said, "This is +all very fine, Mrs. Howe; but on your ninetieth birthday +I shall come, and <i>nobody else</i>!" Alas! before +that day the lion voice was silent, the cordial presence +gone.</p> + +<p>Three days later came an occasion which stirred +patriotic Boston to its depths. The veterans of the +Grand Army of the Republic had invited Major-General +Joseph Wheeler to deliver the Memorial Day +oration in Boston Theatre. Our mother was the second +guest of honor. She has nothing to say of this occasion +beyond the fact that she "had a great time in the +morning," and that in the open carriage with her +sat "General Wheeler's two daughters—<i>very</i> pleasing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265b" id="Page_265b">[265]</a></span> +girls"; but pasted in the Journal is the following +clipping from the "Philadelphia Press":—</p> + + +<p class="center">BOSTON WARMED UP</p> + +<blockquote><p>The Major has just returned from Boston, where he was +present at the Memorial Day services held in Boston +Theatre.</p> + +<p>It was the real thing. I never imagined possible such a +genuine sweeping emotion as when that audience began to +sing the "Battle Hymn." If Boston was cold, it was thawed +by the demonstration on Tuesday. Myron W. Whitney +started to sing. He bowed to a box, in which we first recognized +Mrs. Howe, sitting with the Misses Wheeler. You +should have heard the yell. We could see the splendid white +head trembling; then her voice joined in, as Whitney sang, +"In the beauty of the lilies," and by the time he had reached +the words,—</p> + +<p> +"As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,"—<br /> +</p> + +<p>the whole vast audience was on its feet, sobbing and singing +at the top of its thousands of lungs. If volunteers were +really needed for the Philippines, McKinley could have had +us all right there.</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />The same evening she went "to Unitarian meeting +in Tremont Temple, where read my screed about +Governor Andrew, which has cost me some work and +more anxiety. Rev. S. A. Eliot, whom I saw for the +first time, was charmingly handsome and friendly. I +was introduced as 'Saint Julia' and the whole audience +rose when I came forward to read. Item: I had +dropped my bag with my manuscript in the carriage, +but Charles Fox telephoned to the stable and got it +for me."</p> + +<p>The spring of this year saw an epidemic of negro-lynching,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266b" id="Page_266b">[266]</a></span> +which roused deep indignation throughout +the country. On May 20 the Journal records +"a wonderful meeting at Chickering Hall, called by +the colored women of Boston, to protest against the +lynching of negroes in the South. Mrs. Butler M. +Wilson presided, an octoroon and a woman of education. +Her opening address was excellent in spirit and +in execution. A daughter of Mrs. Ruffin also wrote +an excellent address: Mrs. Cheney's was very earnest +and impressive. Alice Freeman Palmer spoke as I +have never before heard her. My rather brief speech +was much applauded, as were indeed all of the others. +Mrs. Richard Hallowell was on the platform and +introduced Mrs. Wilson."</p> + +<p>This brief speech brought upon her a shower of +letters, mostly anonymous, from persons who saw +only the anti-negro side of this matter, so dreadful in +every aspect. These letters were often denunciatory, +sometimes furious in tone, especially one addressed to</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Mrs. Howe, Negro Sympathizer,<br /> +Boston.</i> +</p> + +<p>This grieved her, but she did not cease to lift up her +voice against the evil thing whenever occasion offered.</p> + +<p>"<i>July 7.</i> <i>Oak Glen.</i> ... My son and his wife came +over from Bristol to pass the day. He looks as young +as my grandsons do. At fifty, his hair is blond, without +gray, and his forehead unwrinkled."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 16.</i> ... While in church I had a new thought +of the energy and influence of Christ's teaching. 'Ask +and ye shall receive,' etc. These little series of commands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267b" id="Page_267b">[267]</a></span> +all incite the hearers to action: Ask, seek, +knock. I should love to write a sermon on this, but +fear my sermonizing days are over, alas!"</p> + +<p>"<i>August 7.</i> Determined to do more literary work +daily than I have been doing lately. Began a screed +about dear Bro' Sam, feeling that he deserved a fuller +mention than I have already given him...."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 4.</i> Discouraged over the confusion of +my papers, the failure of printers to get on with my +book, and my many bills. Have almost had an attack +of the moral sickness which the Italians call <i>Achidia</i>. +I suppose it to mean indifference and indolence...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, September 6, 1899. +</div> + +<p>... Here's a question. Houghton and Mifflin desire +to print<a name="FNanchor_127_127" id="FNanchor_127_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_127_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a> the rough draft of my "Battle Hymn," which +they borrowed, with some difficulty, from Charlotte +Whipple, who begged it of me, years ago. I hesitate to +allow it, because it contains a verse which I discarded, +as not up to the rest of the poem. It will undoubtedly +be an additional attraction for the volume....</p></blockquote> + + +<p>"<i>September 7.</i> Have attacked my proofs fiercely...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, September 16, 1899. +</div> + +<p>Yours received, <i>très chère</i>. Why not consult Hays +Gardiner<a name="FNanchor_128_128" id="FNanchor_128_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_128_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a> about printing the original draft of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268b" id="Page_268b">[268]</a></span> +"Hymn"? Win's<a name="FNanchor_129_129" id="FNanchor_129_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_129_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> opinion would be worth having, +also. I think I shall consult E. E. Hale, albeit the +two just named would be more fastidious.<a name="FNanchor_130_130" id="FNanchor_130_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_130_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a></p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>October 21.</i> My last moments in this dear place. +The past season appears to me like a gift of perfect +jewels. I pray that the winter may have in store for +me some good work and much dear and profitable +companionship. I must remember that this may be +my last summer here, or anywhere on earth, but must +bear in mind that it is best to act with a view to prolonged +life, since without this outlook, it is very hard +for us to endeavor or to do our best. Peace be with +you, beautiful summer and autumn. Amen."</p> + +<p>She was never ready to leave Oak Glen; the town +house always seemed at first like a prison.</p> + +<p>"<i>October 23</i>. Boston. A drizzly, dark day. I struggled +out twice, saying to myself: 'It is for your life.'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 24.</i> Have had two days of chaos and discouragement...."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 27.</i> A delightful and encouraging conference +of A.A.W. held in my parlors. The prevailing +feeling was that we should not disband, but should +hold on to our association and lie by, hoping to find +new innings for work. Florida was spoken of as good +ground for us. I felt much cheered and quickened by +the renewal of old friendships...."</p> + +<p>A Western lecture trip had been planned for this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269b" id="Page_269b">[269]</a></span> +autumn, but certain untoward symptoms developed +and Dr. Wesselhoeft said, "No! no! not even if you +had not had vertigo." She gave it up most reluctantly, +confiding only to the Journal the hope that she might +be able to go later.</p> + +<p>"<i>November 9.</i> Celebration of dear Chev's birthday +at the Institution. I spoke of the New Testament +word about the mustard seed, so small but producing +such a stately tree. I compared this little seed to a +benevolent impulse in the mind of S. G. H. and the +Institution to a tree. 'What is smaller than a human +heart? What seems weaker than a good intention? +Yet the good intention, followed by the faithful heart, +has produced this great refuge in which many generations +have already found the way to a life of educated +usefulness.'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 19....</i> Before the sermon I had prayed +for some good thought of God. This came to me in the +shape of a sudden perception to this effect: 'I am in +the Father's house already.'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 30....</i> In giving thanks to-day, I made +my only personal petitions, which were first, that +some of my dear granddaughters might find suitable +husbands, ... and lastly, that I might <i>serve</i> in some +way until the last breath leaves my body...."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 16.</i> I had greatly desired to see the +'Barber.' Kind Mrs. [Alfred] Batcheller made it possible +by inviting me to go with her. The performance +was almost if not quite <i>bouffe</i>. Sembrich's singing +marvellous, the acting of the other characters excellent, +and singing very good, especially that of De Reszke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270b" id="Page_270b">[270]</a></span> +and Campanari. I heard the opera in New York more +than seventy years ago, when Malibran, then Signorina +Garcia, took the part of Rosina."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 31....</i> 'Advertiser' man came with a +query: 'What event in 1899 will have the greatest +influence in the world's history?' I replied, 'The +Czar's Peace Manifesto, leading to the Conference at +The Hague.'"</p> + + +<p><br />November, 1899, saw the birth of another institution +from which she was to derive much pleasure, the +Boston Authors' Club. Miss Helen M. Winslow first +evolved the idea of such a club. After talking with +Mmes. May Alden Ward and Mabel Loomis Todd, +who urged her to carry out the project, she went to +see the "Queen of Clubs." "Go ahead!" said our +mother. "Call some people together here, at my +house, and we will form a club, and it will be a good +one too."</p> + +<p>The Journal of November 23 says:—</p> + +<p>"Received word from Helen Winslow of a meeting +of literary folks called for to-morrow morning at my +house."</p> + +<p>This meeting was "very pleasant: Mrs. Ward, Miss +Winslow, Jacob Strauss, and Hezekiah Butterworth +attended—later Herbert Ward came in."</p> + +<p>It was voted to form the Boston Authors' Club, and +at a second meeting in December the club was duly +organized.</p> + +<p>In January the Authors' Club made its first public +appearance in a meeting and dinner at Hotel Vendôme,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271b" id="Page_271b">[271]</a></span> +Mrs. Howe presiding, Colonel Higginson (whom she +described as her "chief Vice") beside her.</p> + +<p>The brilliant and successful course of the Authors' +Club need not be dwelt on here. Her connection with +it was to continue through life, and its monthly +meetings and annual dinners were among her pet pleasures. +She was always ready to "drop into rhyme" +in its service, the Muse in cap and bells being +oftenest invoked: <i>e.g.</i>, the verses written for the five +hundredth anniversary of Chaucer's death:—</p> + +<p> +Poet Chaucer had a sister,<br /> +He, the wondrous melodister.<br /> +She didn't write no poems, oh, no!<br /> +Brother Geoffrey trained her so.<br /> +Honored by the poet's crown,<br /> +Her posterity came down.<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> +<br /> +Ages of ancestral birth<br /> +Went for all that they were worth.<br /> +Hence derives the Wentworth name<br /> +Which heraldic ranks may claim.<br /> +That same herald has contrived<br /> +How the Higginson arrived.<br /> +<br /> +He was gran-ther to the knight<br /> +In whose honor I indite<br /> +Burning strophes of the soul<br /> +'propriate to the flowing bowl.<br /> +<br /> +Oft the worth I have defended<br /> +Of the Laureate-descended,<br /> +But while here he sits and winks<br /> +I can tell you what he thinks.<br /> +<br /> +"Never, whether old or young,<br /> +Will that woman hold her tongue!<br /> +Fifty years in Boston schooled,<br /> +Still I find her rhyme-befooled.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272b" id="Page_272b">[272]</a></span>Oft in earnest, oft in jest,<br /> +We have met and tried our best.<br /> +Nought I dread an open field,<br /> +I can conquer, I can yield,<br /> +Self from foes I can defend,<br /> +But Heav'n preserve us from our friend!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>She and her "chief Vice" were always making merry +together; when their flint and steel struck, the flash +was laughter. It may have been at the Authors' Club +that the two, with Edward Everett Hale and Dr. +Holmes, were receiving compliments and tributes one +afternoon.</p> + +<p>"At least," she cried, "no one can say that Boston +drops its <i>H's</i>!"</p> + +<p>This was in the winter of 1900. It was the time +of the Boer War, and all Christendom was sorrowing +over the conflict. On January 3 the Journal +says:—</p> + +<p>"This morning before rising, I had a sudden thought +of the Christ-Babe standing between the two armies, +Boers and Britons, on Christmas Day. I have devoted +the morning to an effort to overtake the heavenly +vision with but a mediocre result."</p> + +<p>These lines are published in "At Sunset."</p> + +<p>On the 11th the cap and bells are assumed once +more.</p> + +<p>"... To reception of the College Club, where I was +to preside over the literary exercises and to introduce +the readers. I was rather at a loss how to do this, but +suddenly I thought of Mother Goose's 'When the pie +was opened, the birds began to sing.' So when Edward +Everett Hale came forward with me and introduced me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273b" id="Page_273b">[273]</a></span> +as 'the youngest person in the hall,' I said, 'Ladies +and Gentlemen, I shall prove the truth of what our +reverend friend has just said, by citing a quotation +from Mother Goose ['When the pie was opened,' etc.], +and the first bird that I shall introduce will be Rev. +E. E. Hale.' Beginning thus, I introduced T. W. Higginson +as the great American Eagle; Judge [Robert] +Grant as a mocking-bird; C. F. Adams as the trained +German canary who sings all the songs of Yawcob +Strauss; C. G. Ames said, 'You mustn't call me an +owl.' I brought him forward and said, 'My dear +minister says that I must not call him an owl, and +I will not; only the owl is the bird of wisdom and he +is very wise.' I introduced Mrs. Moulton as a nightingale. +For Trowbridge I could think of nothing and +said, 'This bird will speak for himself.' Introduced +N. H. Dole as 'a bird rarely seen, the phœnix.' At +the close E. E. H. said, 'You have an admirable +power of introducing.' This little device pleased me +foolishly."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 4.</i> Wrote a careful letter to W. F. Savage. +He had written, asking an explanation of some old +manuscript copy of my 'Battle Hymn' and of the theft +perpetrated of three of its verses in 'Pen Pictures of +the War,' only lately brought to my notice. He evidently +thought these matters implied doubt at least +of my having composed the 'Hymn.' To this suspicion +I did not allude, but showed him how the +verses stolen had been altered, probably to avoid +detection...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 3.</i> Count di Campello's lecture, on the religious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274b" id="Page_274b">[274]</a></span> +life in Italy, was most interesting. His uncle's +movement in founding a National Italian Catholic +Church seemed to me to present the first solution I +have met with, of the absolute opposition between +Catholic and Protestant. A Catholicism without +spiritual tyranny, without ignorant superstition, +would bridge over the interval between the two opposites +and bring about the unification of the world-church...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 13....</i> Passed the whole morning at State +House, with remonstrants against petition forbidding +Sunday evening concerts. T. W. H. spoke remarkably +well...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 30....</i> Had a special good moment this +morning before rising. Felt that God had granted me +a good deal of heaven, while yet on earth. So the +veil lifts sometimes, not for long."</p> + + +<p><br />April found her in Minneapolis and St. Paul, lecturing +and being "delightfully entertained."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 8. Minneapolis.</i> Spoke at the University, +which I found delightfully situated and richly endowed. +Was received with great distinction. Spoke, +I think, on the fact that it takes the whole of life to +learn the lessons of life. Dwelt a little on the fact +that fools are not necessarily underwitted. Nay, may +be people of genius, the trouble being that they do +not learn from experience...."</p> + +<p>On leaving she exclaims:—</p> + +<p>"Farewell, dear St. Paul. I shall never forget you, +nor this delightful visit, which has renewed (almost)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275b" id="Page_275b">[275]</a></span> +the dreams of youth. In the car a kind old grandmother, +with two fine little boy grands....</p> + +<p>"The dear old grandmother and her boys got out +at the Soo. Other ladies in the Pullman were <i>very</i> +kind to me, especially a lady from St. Paul, with her +son, who I thought might be a young husband. She +laughed much at this when I mentioned it to her. +Had an argument with her, regarding hypnotism, I +insisting that it is demoralizing when used by a strong +will to subdue a weak one."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 25.</i> [<i>Boston.</i>] Went in the afternoon to Unitarian +meeting at Tremont Temple. S. A. Eliot made +me come up on the platform. He asked if I would give +a word of benediction. I did so, thanking God earnestly +in my heart for granting me this sweet office, +which seemed to lift my soul above much which has +disturbed it of late. Why is He so good to me? Surely +not to destroy me at last."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 3....</i> Before church had a thought of some +sweet spirit asking to go to hell to preach to the people +there. Thought that if he truly fulfilled his office, he +would not leave even that forlorn pastorate...."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 10....</i> Could not find the key to my money +bag, which distressed me much. Promised St. Anthony +of Padua that if he would help me, I would take pains +to find out who he was. Found the key immediately...."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 18....</i> The little lump in my right breast +hurts me a little to-day. Have written Wesselhoeft +about it. 4.50 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> He has seen it and says that it is +probably cancerous; forbids me to think of an operation;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276b" id="Page_276b">[276]</a></span> +thinks he can stop it with medicine. When he +told me that it was in all probability a cancer, I felt at +first much unsettled in mind. I feared that the thought +of it would occupy my mind and injure my health by +inducing sleeplessness and nervous excitement. Indeed, +I had some sad and rather vacant hours, but +dinner and Julia's<a name="FNanchor_131_131" id="FNanchor_131_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_131_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a> company put my dark thought to +flight and I lay down to sleep as tranquilly as usual."</p> + +<p>[Whatever this trouble was, it evidently brought +much suffering, but finally disappeared. We learn of +it for the first time in this record; she never spoke +of it to any of her family.]</p> + +<p>"<i>Oak Glen. June 21.</i> Here I am seated once more +at my old table, beginning another <i>villeggiatura</i>, which +may easily be my last. Have read a little Greek and +a long article in the 'New World.' I pray the dear +Heavenly Father to help me pass a profitable season +here, improving it as if it were my last, whether it +turns out to be so or not."</p> + +<p>[She was not in her usual spirits this summer. She +felt the heat and the burden of years. The Journal is +mostly in a minor key.]</p> + +<p>"<i>July 16.</i> Took up a poem at which I have been +working for some days, on the victims in Pekin; a +strange theme, but one on which I feel I have a word +to say. Wrote it all over...."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 19.</i> Was much worn out with the heat. In +afternoon my head gave out and would not serve me +for anything but to sit still and observe the flight of +birds and the freaks of yellow butterflies...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277b" id="Page_277b">[277]</a></span>"<i>July 26.</i> Have prayed to-day that I may not find +life dull. This prolongation of my days on earth is so +precious that I ought not to cease for one moment to +thank God for it. I enjoy my reading as much as +ever, but I do feel very much the narrowing of my +personal relations by death. How rich was I in sisters, +brothers, elders! It seems to me now as if I had not +at all appreciated these treasures of affection...."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 31.</i> Have writ notes of condolence to Mrs. +Barthold Schlesinger and to M. E. Powel. I remember +the coming of Mrs. Powel's family to Newport sixty-five +years ago. The elders used to entertain in the +simple ways of those days, and my brother Henry +and I used to sing one duet from the 'Matrimonio +Segreto,' at some of their evening parties. In the afternoon +came the ladies of the Papéterie; had our tea in +the green parlor, which was pretty and pleasant...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, August 3, 1900. +</div> + +<p>... I grieve for the death of King Umberto, as +any one must who has followed the fortunes of Italy +and knows the indebtedness of the country to the +House of Savoy. Thus, the horror of this anarchy, +thriving among Italians in our own country. I am so +thankful that the better class among them have come +out so strongly against it! I was present when King +Umberto took the oaths of office, after the death of his +father. He was a faithful man, not quite up to the +times, perhaps, but his reign was beset with problems +and difficulties. I am sure that the Queen greatly respected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278b" id="Page_278b">[278]</a></span> +and honored him, although I believe that she +was first betrothed to his brother Amadeo, whom, it +is said, she loved. Alas, for the tyranny of dynastic +necessity. Their only child was very delicate, and +has no child, or had not, when I was in Rome. As to +the Chinese horror, it is unspeakably dreadful. Even +if the ministers are safe, hundreds of foreigners and +thousands of native Christians have been cruelly +massacred. I cannot help hoping that punishment +will be swift and severe....</p> + +<p>A letter from H. M. H. yesterday, in great spirits. +At a great public dinner recently, the president of the +association cried: "<i>Honneur à Howe!</i>"</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Affect., +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mother</span>. +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>August 17....</i> In the evening I was seized with +an attack of verse and at bedtime wrote a rough draft +of a <i>Te Deum</i> for the rescue of the ministers in Pekin."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 20....</i> Got my poem smooth at some +expense of force, perhaps. I like the poem. I think +that it has been <i>given</i> me."</p> + +<p>This <i>Te Deum</i> was printed in the "Christian +Herald" in September, 1900.</p> + +<p>"<i>Sunday, September 2....</i> I had, before service +began, a clear thought that <i>self</i> is death, and deliverance +from its narrow limitations the truest emancipation. +In my heart I gave thanks to God for all measure +in which I have attained, or tried to attain, this liberation. +It seems to me that the one moment of this +which we could perfectly attain, would be an immortal +joy."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279b" id="Page_279b">[279]</a></span>A week later, she went to New York to attend a +reception given to the Medal of Honor Legion at +Brooklyn Academy. She writes:—</p> + +<p>"Last evening's occasion was to me eminently worth +the trouble I had taken in coming on. To meet these +veterans, face to face, and to receive their hearty +greeting, was a precious boon vouchsafed to me so +late in life. Their reception to me was cordial in the +extreme. The audience and chorus gave me the Chautauqua +salute, and as I left the platform, the girl +chorus sang the last verse of my 'Hymn' over again, +in a subdued tone, as if for me alone. The point which +I made, and wished to make, was that, 'our flag should +only go forth on errands of justice, mercy, etc., and +that once sent forth, it should not be recalled until +the work whereunto it had been pledged was accomplished.' +This with a view to Pekin...."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 13....</i> The Galveston horror<a name="FNanchor_132_132" id="FNanchor_132_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_132_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a> was much +in my mind yesterday. I could not help asking why +the dear Lord allowed such dreadful loss of life...."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 25.</i> My last writing at this time in this +dear place. The season, a very busy one, has also been +a very blessed one. I cannot be thankful enough for +so much calm delight—my children and grandchildren, +my books and my work, although this last +has caused me many anxieties. I cannot but feel as +old John Forbes did when he left Naushon for the last +time and went about in his blindness, touching his +writing materials, etc., and saying to himself, 'Never +again, perhaps.' If it should turn out so in my case,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280b" id="Page_280b">[280]</a></span> +God's will be done. He knows best when we should +depart and how long we should stay...."</p> + +<p>"On the way home and afterwards, these lines of +an old hymn ran in my mind:—</p> + +<p> +'Fear not, I am with thee, oh, be not afraid.<br /> +I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid.'<br /> +</p> + +<p>This comforted me much in the forlorn exchange of +my lovely surroundings at Oak Glen for the imprisonment +of a town house."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 4. 241 Beacon Street.</i> The dear minister +preached on 'All Saints and All Souls,' the double +festival of last week. At Communion he said: 'Dear +Sister Howe, remember that if you are moved to speak, +you have freedom to do so.' I had not thought of +speaking, but presently rose and spoke of the two +consecrated days. I said: 'As I entered this church to-day, +I thought of a beautiful cathedral in which one +after another the saints whom I have known and +loved, appeared on either side; first, the saints of my +own happy childhood, then the excellent people whom +I have known all my life long. The picture of one of +them hangs on these walls.<a name="FNanchor_133_133" id="FNanchor_133_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_133_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a> His memory is fresh in +all our hearts. Surely it is a divine glory which we +have seen in the faces of these friends, and they seem +to lead us up to that dearest and divinest one, whom +we call Master'; and so on. I record this to preserve +this vision of the cathedral of heart saints...."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 25.</i> I was awake soon after five this +morning, and a voice, felt, not heard, seemed to give +me a friendly warning to set my house in order for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281b" id="Page_281b">[281]</a></span> +my last departure from it. This seems to bring in +view my age, already long past the scriptural limit, +suggesting also that I have some symptoms of an +ailment which does not trouble me much, but which +would naturally tend to shorten my life. In my mind +I promised that I would heed the warning given. I +only prayed God to make the parting easy for me +and my dear ones, of whom dear Maud would be the +most to be pitied, as she has been most with me and +has no child to draw her thoughts to the future. After +this, I fell asleep.</p> + +<p>"We had a merry time at breakfast, examining the +Christmas gifts, which were numerous and gratifying...."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 31....</i> Here ends a year of mercies, of +more than my usual health, of power to speak and to +write. It has been a year of work. God be thanked +for it."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282b" id="Page_282b">[282]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>STEPPING WESTWARD</h3> + +<h4>1901-1902; <i>aet.</i> 82-83</h4> + +<blockquote><p>But here the device of the spiral can save us. We must make the round, +but we may make it with an upward inclination. "Let there be light!" is +sometimes said in accents so emphatic, that the universe remembers and +cannot forget it. We carry our problems slowly forward. With all the ups +and downs of every age, humanity constantly rises. Individuals may preserve +all its early delusions, commit all its primitive crimes; but to the +body of civilized mankind, the return to barbarism is impossible.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>January 7.</i> I have had a morning of visioning, +lying in bed. 'Be still and know that I am God,' +seemed to be my sentence. I thought of the Magdalen's +box of spikenard, whose odor, when the box was +broken, filled the house. The separate religious convictions +of the sects seemed to me like so many boxes +of ointment, exceedingly precious while shut up, but I +thought also that the dear Lord would one day break +these separate boxes, and that then their fragrance +would fill the whole earth, which is His house.</p> + +<p>"This is my first writing in this book. From this +thought and the 'Be still,' I may try to make two +sermons.</p> + +<p>"In afternoon came William Wesselhoeft, Sr., and +prescribed entire quiet and rest for some days to come. +Oh! I do long to be at work."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 9.</i> To-day for the first time since January +3, I have opened a Greek book. I read in my Æschylus +["Eumenides"] how Apollo orders the Furies to leave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283b" id="Page_283b">[283]</a></span> +his shrine, to go where deeds of barbarity, tortures, and +mutilations are practised."</p> + +<p>At this time she heard of her son's receiving from +the Czar the cross of the Order of St. Stanislas. She +writes to him:—</p> + +<p>"Goodness gracious me!</p> + +<p>"Are you sure it isn't by mistake? Do you remember +that you are my naughty little imp?... +Well, well, it takes away my breath! Dearest Boy, +my heart is lifted up with gratitude. If your father +were only here, to share our great rejoicing! Joy! +joy!..."</p> + +<p>She had always taken a deep interest in Queen +Victoria, whose age was within three days of her own. +Many people fancied a resemblance between the two; +indeed, when in England as a bride, she was told +more than once: "You look like our young Queen!" +It is remembered how one of her daughters, knocking +at the door of a Maine farmhouse to inquire the way, +was met by a smiling, "I know who you are! You are +the daughter of the Queen of America!"</p> + +<p>The Queen's death, coming as it did during her own +illness, gave her a painful shock.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 23.</i> The news of Queen Victoria's death +quite overcame me for a moment this morning. Instead +of settling to my work, I wrote a very tiny 'bust +of feeling' about her, which I carried to the 'Woman's +Journal' office, where I found a suffrage meeting in +progress. I could only show myself and say that I +was not well enough to remain...."</p> + +<p>"Bust of feeling" was a favorite expression of hers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284b" id="Page_284b">[284]</a></span> +Old Bostonians will recall its origin. "A certain rich +man," seeing a poor girl injured in a street accident, +offered to pay her doctor's bill. This being presented +in due time, he disclaimed all responsibility in the +affair; and when reminded of his offer, exclaimed, +"Oh, that was a bust of feeling!"</p> + +<p>On January 31, she was "in distress of mind all day +lest Maud should absolutely refuse to let me give my +lecture at Phillips Church this evening." Later she +writes: "Maud was very kind and did nothing to +hinder my going to South Boston." She went and +enjoyed the evening, but was not so well after it.</p> + +<p>"<i>February 10.</i> A Sunday at home; unable to venture +out. Wesselhoeft, Jr., called, left medicine, and forbade +my going out before the cough has ceased. Have +read in Cheyne's 'Jewish Religious Life after the +Exile,' finding the places of reference in the Bible. +Afterwards read in 'L'Aiglon,' which is very interesting +but not praiseworthy, as it endeavors to recall the +false glory of Napoleon."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 18.</i> Have been out, first time since February +3, when I went to church and was physically the +worse for it.... Last night had a time of lying awake +with a sort of calm comfort. Woke in the morning +full of invalid melancholy, intending to keep my bed. +Felt much better when in motion. Must make a vigorous +effort now to get entirely well."</p> + + +<p><br />These days of seclusion were hard for her, and every +effort was made to bring the "mountains" to her, +since she could not go to them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285b" id="Page_285b">[285]</a></span>A club was formed among her friends in Boston for +the study and speaking of Italian: this became one of +her great pleasures, and she looked forward eagerly to +the meetings, delighted to hear and to use the beautiful +speech she had loved since childhood.</p> + +<p>"<i>February 22.</i> The new club, <i>Il Circolo Italiano</i>, met +at our house. Count Campello had asked me to say +a few words, so I prepared a very little screed in Italian, +not daring to trust myself to speak <i>extempore</i> in +this language. We had a large attendance; I thought +one hundred were present. My bit was well received, +and the lecture by Professor Speranza, of New York, +was very interesting, though rather difficult to follow. +The theme was D'Annunzio's dramas, from which he +gave some quotations and many characterizations. +He relegates D'Annunzio to the Renaissance when +<i>Virtù</i> had no real <i>moral significance</i>. Compared him +with Ibsen. The occasion was exceedingly pleasant."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><p>I had hoped to go to church to-day, but my Maud +and your Julia decided against it, and so I am having +the day at home. It is just noon by my dial, and Maud +is stretched in my Gardiner chair, comfortably shawled, +and reading Lombroso's book on "The Man of Genius," +with steadfast attention. Lombroso's theory seems to +be that genius, almost equally with insanity, is a result +of degeneration....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>March 1.</i> The first day of spring, though in this +climate this is a <i>wintry</i> month. I am thankful to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286b" id="Page_286b">[286]</a></span> +got on so far in this, my eighty-second year. My +greatest trouble is that I use so poorly the precious +time spared to me. Latterly I have been saying to myself, +'Can you not see that the drama is played out?' +This partly because my children wish me to give up +public speaking."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 4....</i> To New England Woman's Club; +first time this year, to my great regret and loss. I was +cordially welcomed.... A thought suddenly came to +me, namely, that the liberal education of women +would give the death-blow to superstition. I said, 'We +women have been the depositaries of religious sensibility, +but we have also furnished the impregnable +storehouse of superstition, sometimes gracious, sometimes +desperately cruel and hurtful to our race.' No +one noticed this, but I hold fast to it...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 8....</i> To Symphony Concert in afternoon, +which I enjoyed but little, the music being of the +multi-muddle order so much in vogue just now. An +air of Haydn's sounded like a sentence of revelation +in a chatter...."</p> + +<p>It may have been after this concert that she wrote +these lines, found in one of her notebooks:—</p> + +<p> +Such ugly noises never in my life<br /> +My ears endured, such hideous fiddle-strife.<br /> +A dozen street bands playing different tunes,<br /> +A choir of chimney sweeps with various runes,<br /> +The horn that doth to farmer's dinner call,<br /> +The Chinese gong that serves in wealthier hall,<br /> +The hammer, scrub brush, and beseeching broom,<br /> +While here and there the guns of freedom boom,<br /> +"Tzing! bang! this soul is saved!" "Clang! clang! it isn't!"<br /> +And <i>mich</i> and <i>dich</i> and <i>ich</i> and <i>sich</i> and <i>sisn't</i>!<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287b" id="Page_287b">[287]</a></span>Five dollar bills the nauseous treat secured,<br /> +But what can pay the public that endured?<br /> +</p> + +<p>"<i>March 17.</i> Before lying down for a needed rest, I +must record the wonderful reception given to-day to +Jack Elliott's ceiling.<a name="FNanchor_134_134" id="FNanchor_134_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_134_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a> The day was fine, clear sunlight. +Many friends congratulated me, and some +strangers. Vinton, the artist, Annie Blake, Ellen +Dixey were enthusiastic in their commendation of +the work, as were many others. I saw my old friend, +Lizzie Agassiz, my cousin Mary Robeson and her +daughter, and others too numerous to mention.... +This I consider a day of great honor for my family.... +<i>Deo gratias</i> for this as well as for my son's +decoration."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 31....</i> Had a sort of vision in church of +Moses and Christ, the mighty breath of the prophets +reaching over many and dark ages to our own time, with +power growing instead of diminishing. When I say +a vision, I mean a vivid thought and mind picture."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 3.</i> Have writ to Larz Anderson, telling him +where to find the quotation from Horace which I gave +him for a motto to his automobile, 'Ocior Euro.' +Sanborn found it for me and sent it by postal. It +must have been more than thirty years since dear +Brother Sam showed it to me...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 7.</i> A really inspired sermon from C. G. A., +'The power of an unending life.' ... The Communion +which followed was to me almost miraculous. Mr. +Ames called it a festival of commemoration, and it +brought me a mind vision of the many departed dear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288b" id="Page_288b">[288]</a></span> +ones. One after another the dear forms seemed to +paint themselves on my inner vision: first, the nearer +in point of time, last my brother Henry and Samuel +Eliot. I felt that this experience ought to pledge me +to new and more active efforts to help others. In my +mind I said, the obstacle to this is my natural inertia, +my indolence; then the thought, God can overcome +this indolence and give me increased power of service +and zeal for it. Those present, I think, all considered +the sermon and Communion as of special power and +interest. It almost made me fear lest it should prove +a swan song from the dear minister. Perhaps it is I, +not he, who may soon depart."</p> + +<p>Later in April she was able to fulfil some lecture +engagements in New York State with much enjoyment, +but also much fatigue. After her return she +felt for a little while "as if it was about time for her +to go," but her mind soon recovered its tone.</p> + +<p>Being gently reproved for giving a lecture and +holding a reception on the same day, she said, "That +is perfectly proper: I gave and I received: I was +scriptural and I was blessed."</p> + +<p>Asked on another occasion if it did not tire her to +lecture,—"Why, no! it is they [the audience] who +are tired, not I!"</p> + +<p>On April 27 she writes:—</p> + +<p>"I have had a great gratification to-day. Mrs. Fiske +Warren had invited us to afternoon tea and to hear +Coquelin deliver some monologues. I bethought me +of my poem entitled 'After Hearing Coquelin.' Maud +wrote to ask Mrs. Warren whether she would like to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289b" id="Page_289b">[289]</a></span> +have me read it and she assented. I procured a fresh +copy of the volume in which it is published, and took +it with me to this party, which was large and <i>very</i> representative +of Boston's most recognized people. Miss +Shedlock first made a charming recitation in French, +which she speaks perfectly. Then Coquelin gave three +delightful monologues. The company then broke up +for tea and I thought my chance was lost, but after a +while order was restored. M. Coquelin was placed +where I could see him, and I read the poem as well as +I could. He seemed much touched with the homage, +and I gave him the book. People in general were +pleased with the poem and I was very glad and thankful +for so pleasant an experience. Learned with joy +of the birth of a son to my dear niece, Elizabeth +Chapman."</p> + +<p>Another happy birthday came and passed. After +recording its friendly festivities, she writes:—</p> + +<p>"I am <i>very</i> grateful for all this loving kindness. +Solemn thoughts must come to me of the long past +and of the dim, uncertain future. I trust God for His +grace. My life has been poor in merit, in comparison +to what it should have been, but I am thankful that +to some it has brought comfort and encouragement, +and that I have been permitted to champion some +good causes and to see a goodly number of my descendants, +all well endowed physically and mentally, +and starting in life with good principles and intentions; +my children all esteemed and honored for honorable +service in their day and generation."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 30. Decoration Day....</i> In the afternoon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290b" id="Page_290b">[290]</a></span> +Maud and I drove out to Mount Auburn to visit the +dear graves. We took with us the best of the birthday +flowers, beautiful roses and lilies. I could not have +much sense of the presence of our dear ones. Indeed, +they are not there, but where they are, God only +knows."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 31.</i> Free Religious meeting.... The fears +which the bold programme had naturally aroused in +me, fears lest the dear Christ should be spoken of in +a manner to wound those who love him—these fears +were at once dissipated by the reverent tone of the +several speakers...."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 1....</i> To the Free Religious festival.... I +found something to say about the beautiful morning +meeting and specially of the truth which comes down +to us, mixed with so much rubbish of tradition. I spoke +of the power of truth 'which burns all this accumulation +of superstition and shines out firm and clear, so +we may say that "the myth crumbles but the majesty +remains."'..."</p> + +<p>She managed to do a good deal of writing this +summer: wrote a number of "screeds," some to order, +some from inward leading: <i>e.g.</i>, a paper on "Girlhood +Seventy Years Ago," a poem on the death of President +McKinley.</p> + +<p>"<i>October 5.</i> A package came to-day from McClure's +Syndicate. I thought it was my manuscript returned +and rejected, and said, 'God give me strength not to +cry.' I opened it and found a typewritten copy of my +paper on 'Girlhood,' sent to me for correction in lieu +of printer's proof. Wrote a little on my screed about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291b" id="Page_291b">[291]</a></span> +'Anarchy.' Had a sudden thought that the sense +and spirit of government is responsibility."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 6....</i> Wrote a poem on 'The Dead Century,' +which has in it some good lines, I hope."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 8.</i> The cook ill with rheumatism. I made +my bed, turning the mattress, and put my room generally +to rights. When I lay down to take my usual +<i>obligato</i> rest, a fit of verse came upon me, and I had to +abbreviate my lie-down to write out my <i>inspiration</i>."</p> + +<p>The "<i>obligato</i> rest"! How she did detest it! She +recognized the necessity of relaxing the tired nerves +and muscles; she yielded, but never willingly. The +noon hour would find her bending over her desk, writing +"for dear life," or plunged fathoms deep in Grote's +"Greece," or some other light and playful work. +Daughter or granddaughter would appear, watch in +hand, countenance steeled against persuasion. "Time +for your rest, dearest!"</p> + +<p>The rapt face looks up, breaks into sunshine, melts +into entreaty. "Let me finish this note, this page; +then I will go!" Or it may be the sprite that looks out +of the gray eyes. "Get out!" she says. "Leave the +room! I never saw you before!"</p> + +<p>Finally she submits to the indignity of being tucked +in for her nap; but even then her watch is beside her +on the bed, ticking away the minutes till the half-hour +is over, and she springs to her task.</p> + +<p>"<i>November 3. 241 Beacon Street.</i> My room here has +been nicely cleaned, but I bring into it a great heap of +books and papers. I am going to try <i>hard</i> to be less +disorderly than in the past."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292b" id="Page_292b">[292]</a></span>How hard she did try, we well remember. The book +trunk was a necessity of the summer flitting. It carried +a full load from one book-ridden house to the +other, and there were certain books—the four-volume +Oxford Bible, the big-print Horace, the Greek classics, +shabby of dress, splendid of type and margin—which +could surely have found their way to and +from Newport unaided.</p> + +<p>One book she never asked for—the English dictionary! +Once Maud, recently returned from Europe, +apologized for having inadvertently taken the dictionary +from 241 Beacon Street.</p> + +<p>"How dreadful it was of me to take your dictionary! +What have you done? Did you buy a new one?"</p> + +<p>"I did not know you had taken it!"</p> + +<p>"But—how did you get along without a dictionary?"</p> + +<p>The elder looked her surprise.</p> + +<p>"I never use a word whose meaning I do not know!"</p> + +<p>"But the spelling?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer to this, save a whimsical shrug +of the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"<i>November 11.</i> The day of the celebration of dear +Chev's one hundredth birthday. Before starting for +the Temple I received three beautiful gifts of flowers, +a great bunch of white roses from Lizzie Agassiz, a +lovely bouquet of violets from Mrs. Frank Batcheller, +and some superb chrysanthemums from Mrs. George +H. Perkins. The occasion was to me one of solemn joy +and thankfulness. Senator Hoar presided with beautiful +grace, preluding with some lovely reminiscences of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293b" id="Page_293b">[293]</a></span> +Dr. Howe's visit to his office in Worcester, Massachusetts, +when he, Hoar, was a young lawyer. Sanborn +and Manatt excelled themselves, Humphreys did very +well. Hoar requested me to stand up and say a few +words, which I did, he introducing me in a very felicitous +manner. I was glad to say my word, for my heart +was deeply touched. With me on the platform were +my dear children and Jack Hall and Julia Richards; +Anagnos, of course; the music very good."</p> + +<p>Senator Hoar's words come back to us to-day, and +we see his radiant smile as he led her forward.</p> + +<p>"It is only the older ones among us," he said, "who +have seen Dr. Howe, but there are hundreds here who +will want to tell their children that they have seen +the author of the 'Battle Hymn of the Republic.'"</p> + +<p>Part of her "word" was as follows:—</p> + +<p>"We have listened to-day to very heroic memories; +it almost took away our breath to think that such +things were done in the last century. I feel very grateful +to the pupils and graduates of the Perkins Institution +for the Blind who have planned this service in +honor of my husband. It is a story that should be +told from age to age to show what one good resolute +believer in humanity was able to accomplish for the +benefit of his race.... The path by which he led +Laura Bridgman to the light has become one of the +highways of education, and a number of children similarly +afflicted are following it, to their endless enlargement +and comfort. What an encouragement does this +story give to the undertaking of good deeds!</p> + +<p>"I thank those who are with us to-day for their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294b" id="Page_294b">[294]</a></span> +sympathy and attention. I do this, not in the name +of a handful of dust, dear and reverend as it is, that +now rests in Mount Auburn, but in the name of a +great heart which is with us to-day and which will +still abide with those who work in its spirit."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 26. Thursday.</i> A day of pleasant agitation +from beginning to end. I tried to recognize in +thought the many mercies of the year. My fortunate +recoveries from illness, the great pleasures of study, +friendly intercourse, thought and life generally. Our +Thanksgiving dinner was at about 1.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>, and was +embellished by the traditional turkey, a fine one, to +which David, Flossy, Maud, and I did justice. The +Richards girls, Julia and Betty, and Chug<a name="FNanchor_135_135" id="FNanchor_135_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_135_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a> and Jack +Hall, flitted in and out, full of preparation for the +evening event, the marriage of my dear Harry Hall to +Alice Haskell. I found time to go over my screed for +Maynard very carefully, rewriting a little of it and +mailing it in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>"In the late afternoon came Harry Hall and his best +man, Tom McCready, to dine here and dress for the +ceremony. Maud improvised a pleasant supper: we +were eight at table. Went to the church in two carriages. +Bride looked very pretty, simple white satin +dress and tulle veil. Six bridesmaids in pink, carrying +white chrysanthemums. H. M. H.<a name="FNanchor_136_136" id="FNanchor_136_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_136_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a> seemed very boyish, +but looked charmingly...."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 31.</i> The last day of a blessed year in +which I have experienced some physical suffering, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295b" id="Page_295b">[295]</a></span> +also many comforts and satisfactions. I have had +grippe and bronchitis in the winter and bad malarial +jaundice in the summer, but I have been constantly +employed in writing on themes of great interest and +have had much of the society of children and grandchildren. +Of these last, two are happily married, <i>i.e.</i>, +in great affection. My dear Maud and her husband +have been with me constantly, and I have had little +or no sense of loneliness...."</p> + + +<p><br />The beginning of 1902 found her in better health +than the previous year.</p> + +<p>She records a luncheon with a distinguished company, +at which all agreed that "the 'Atlantic' to-day +would not accept Milton's 'L' Allegro,' nor would any +other magazine."</p> + +<p>At the Symphony Concert "the Tschaikowsky +Symphony seemed to me to have in it more noise than +music. Felt that I am too old to enjoy new music."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 24.</i> Suffrage and Anti-Suffrage at the +State House. I went there with all of my old interest +in the Cause. The Antis were there in force: Mrs. +Charles Guild as their leader; Lawyer Russell as their +manager. I had to open. I felt so warm in my faith +that for once I thought I might convert our opponents. +I said much less than I had intended, as is usually the +case with me when I speak <i>extempore</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 7....</i> I went to see Leoni's wonderful +illuminated representation of leading events in our +history; a very remarkable work, and one which ought +to remain in this country."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296b" id="Page_296b">[296]</a></span>"<i>February 11.</i> Dreamed of an interview with a +female pope. I had to go to Alliance Meeting to +speak about Wordsworth. I hunted up some verses +written about him in my early enthusiasm, probably +in 1840 or 1841. This I read and then told of my visit +to him with Dr. Howe and the unpleasantness of the +experience. Spoke also of the reaction in England +against the morbid discontent which is so prominent +and powerful in much of Byron's poetry...."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 12....</i> In my dream of yesterday morning +the woman pope and I were on very friendly terms. +I asked on leaving whether I might kiss her hand. +She said, 'You may kiss my hand.' I found it fat and +far from beautiful. As I left her, methought that her +countenance relaxed and she looked like a tired old +woman. In my dream I thought, 'How like this is to +what Pope Leo would do.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>February 13....</i> Felt greatly discouraged at first +waking. It seemed impossible for me to make a first +move under so many responsibilities. A sudden light +came into my soul at the thought that God will help +me in any good undertaking, and with this there came +an inkling of first steps to be taken with regard to +Sig. Leoni's parchment.<a name="FNanchor_137_137" id="FNanchor_137_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_137_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a> I went to work again on my +prize poem, with better success than hitherto...."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 14.</i> Philosophy at Mrs. Bullard's.... Sent +off my prize poem with scarcely any hope of its obtaining +or indeed deserving the prize, but Mar<a name="FNanchor_138_138" id="FNanchor_138_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_138_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a> has promised +to pay me something for it in any case, and I was bound +to try for the object, namely, a good civic poem...."</p> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297b" id="Page_297b">[297]</a></span>"<i>February 15....</i> A day of great pleasure, profit +and fatigue.... Griggs's lecture.... The address on +'Erasmus and Luther' was very inspiring. Griggs is +in the full tide of youthful inspiration and gives himself +to his audience without stint. He did not quite +do justice to the wonderful emancipation of thought +which Protestantism has brought to the world, but +his illustration of the two characters was masterly. I +said afterwards to Fanny Ames: 'He will burn himself +out.' She thinks that he is wisely conservative of +his physical strength. I said, 'He bleeds at every +pore.' I used to say this of myself with regard to +ordinary social life. Went to the Club, where was +made to preside. Todd and Todkinee<a name="FNanchor_139_139" id="FNanchor_139_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_139_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a> both spoke +excellently. Then to Symphony Concert to hear Kreisler +and the 'Pastoral Symphony.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>February 16....</i> The Philosophy meeting and +Griggs's lecture revived in me the remembrance of my +philosophic studies and attempts of thirty-five years +ago, and I determined to endeavor to revise them and +to publish them in some shape. Have thought a good +deal this morning of this cream of genius in which the +fervent heat of youth fuses conviction and imagination +and gives the world its great masters and masterpieces. +It cannot outlast the length of human life of +which it is the poetry. Age follows it with slow philosophy, +but can only strengthen the outposts which +youth has gained with daring flight. Both are divinely +ordained and most blessed. Of the dear Christ the +world had only this transcendent efflorescence. I said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298b" id="Page_298b">[298]</a></span> +to Ames yesterday, 'I find in the Hebrew prophets +all the doctrine which I find in Christ's teaching.' He +said, 'Yes, it is there seminally.' We agreed that it +was the life which made the difference."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 21</i>.... My dearest Maud left by 1 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> +train to sail for Europe to-morrow. I could not go to +the hearing. Was on hand to think of small details +which might have been overlooked. Gave them my +fountain pen, to Jack's great pleasure. Julia Richards +came to take care of me. I suffered extreme depression +in coming back to the empty house, every corner of +which is so identified with Maud's sweet and powerful +presence. The pain of losing her, even for a short +time, seemed intolerable. I was better in the evening. +Chug amused me with a game of picquet."</p> + +<p>Her spirits soon rallied, and the granddaughters +did their best to fill the great void. She writes to +Laura about this time:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +Not a sign was made, not a note was wrote,<br /> +Not a telegram was wired,<br /> +Not a rooster sent up his warning note,<br /> +When the eggs from your larder were fired.<br /> +<br /> +We swallow them darkly at break of fast,<br /> +Each one to the other winking,<br /> +And "woe is me if this be the last"<br /> +Is what we are sadly thinking.<br /> +<br /> +The egg on missile errand sent<br /> +Some time has been maturing,<br /> +And, with whate'er endearment blent,<br /> +Is rarely reassuring.<br /> +<br /> +But yours, which in their freshness came<br /> +Just when they might be wanted,<br /> +A message brought without a name,<br /> +"Love," we will take for granted. [<i>Copyrighted.</i>]<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299b" id="Page_299b">[299]</a></span>Julia is rather strict with me, but very good, considering +whose grandchild she is.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="signature"> +Affect.,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mother</span>. +</div> + +<p><br />"<i>March 25.</i> I received in one day three notes asking +me regarding the 'Life of Margaret Shepard,' and +'Secret Confessions of a Priest.' One writer had seen +in some paper that she could have the books by applying +to me; Miss —— wrote to the same intent; +Miss —— wrote and enclosed forty cents' worth of +stamps for one of the books. I have replied to all that +I know nothing of the books in question, and that I +am neither agent nor bookseller."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 30.</i> Lunch with Mrs. Fields after church. +Heard a very inspiring sermon from Samuel A. Eliot. +This young man has a very noble bearing and a stringent +way of presenting truth. He has that vital religious +power which is rare and most precious. Before +he had spoken I had been asking in my mind, how can +we make the <i>past present to us</i>? The Easter service +and Lent also seem intended to do this, but our imaginations +droop and lag behind our desires...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 2.</i>... Went in the evening to see 'Ben-Hur' +with kind Sarah Jewett—her treat, as was my attendance +at the opera. The play was altogether spectacular, +but very good in that line...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 3.</i>... Went to the celebration of E. E. +Hale's eightieth birthday, in which the community +largely participated. Senator Hoar was the orator and +spoke finely.... Hale's response was manly, cheery,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300b" id="Page_300b">[300]</a></span> +and devout. He has certainly done much good work, +and has suggested many good things."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 12.</i> Lunch with Mrs. Wheelwright. I found +Agnes Repplier very agreeable. She had known the +wife of Green, the historian, 'very, almost too brilliant.' +Told me something about his life. I enjoyed +meeting her."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><p>Yes, I likes my chilluns better 'n other folkses' chilluns. +P'raps 'tis as well sometimes to let them know +that I do....</p> + +<p>What you write about my little Memoir of your +dear Papa touches me a good deal. I did my best to +make it as satisfactory as the limits imposed upon me +would allow. I don't think that I ever had a word of +commendation for it. Michael killed it as a book by +printing it entire in his Report for the year. Now I am +much gratified by your notice of it. You are most +welcome to use it in connection with the letters.<a name="FNanchor_140_140" id="FNanchor_140_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_140_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a></p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 16.</i> In the evening the Italian supper at the +Hotel Piscopo, North End. I recited Goldoni's toast +from the 'Locandiera,' and also made a little speech +at the end of the banquet. Padre Roberto, a Venetian +priest, young and handsome, sat near me...."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 18</i>.... I had prayed that this might be a +real Whitsunday to me and I felt that it was. Notice +was given of a meeting at which Catholic, Jew, Episcopalian,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301b" id="Page_301b">[301]</a></span> +and Unitarian are to speak regarding the +Filipinos. This seemed like the Millennium. It is the +enlargement of religious sympathy; not, as some may +think, the progress of critical indifferentism.</p> + +<p>"During this morning's service my desire to speak +to prisoners reasserted itself strongly; also my thought +of one of my sermons which I wish to write. One +should be to the text: 'The glory of God in the face +of Jesus Christ,' the reflection of divine glory in God's +saints, like the reflection of the sun's light in the +planets. Another about Adam being placed in Eden +to tend the flowers and water them. This should concern +our office in the land of our birth, into which we +are born to love and serve our country. Will speak of +the self-banished Americans, Hale's 'Man without a +Country,' etc. This day has been so full of thought +and suggestion that I hardly know how to let it go. +I pray that it may bear some fruit in my life, what is +left of it."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 24.</i> The annual Club luncheon in honor of +my birthday. I felt almost overwhelmed by the great +attention shown me and by the constant talk of +speakers with reference to myself.... I don't find in +myself this charm, this goodness, attributed to me by +such speakers, but I know that I love the Club and +love the world of my own time, so far as I know it. +They called me Queen and kissed my hand. When I +came home I fell in spirit before the feet of the dear +God, thanking Him for the regard shown me, and praying +that it might not for one moment make me vain. I +read my translation of Horace's ode, 'Quis Desiderio,'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302b" id="Page_302b">[302]</a></span> +and it really seemed to suit the mention made by Mrs. +Cheney of our departed members, <i>praecipuë</i>, Dr. Zack; +Dr. Hoder [?] of England was there, and ex-Governor +Long and T. W. Higginson, also Agnes Irwin. It was +a great time."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 5</i>.... I wrote to Ethel V. Partridge, Omaha, +a high-school student: 'Get all the education that you +can. Cultivate habits of studious thought with all +that books can teach. The fulfilment of the nearest +duty gives the best education.' I fear that I have +come to know this by doing the exact opposite, <i>i.e.</i>, +neglecting much of the nearest duty in the pursuit of +an intellectual wisdom which I have not attained...."</p> + + +<p><br />Maud and Florence were both away in the early +part of this summer, and various grandchildren kept +her company at Oak Glen. There were other visitors, +among them Count Salome di Campello, a cheery +guest who cooked spaghetti for her, and helped the +granddaughter to set off the Fourth of July fireworks, +to her equal pleasure and terror. During his +visit she invited the Italian Ambassador<a name="FNanchor_141_141" id="FNanchor_141_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_141_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a> to spend a +couple of days at Oak Glen. On July 14 she writes:—</p> + +<p>"Not having heard from the Italian Ambassador, +the Count and I supposed that he was not coming. In +the late afternoon came a letter saying that he would +arrive to-morrow. We were troubled at this late intelligence, +which gave me no time to invite people to +meet the guest. I lay down for my afternoon rest with +a very uneasy mind. Remembering St. Paul's words<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303b" id="Page_303b">[303]</a></span> +about 'Angels unawares,' I felt comforted, thinking +that the Angel of Hospitality would certainly visit +me, whether the guest proved congenial or not."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 15</i>.... The Ambassador arrived as previously +announced. He proved a most genial and +charming person; a man still in the prime of life, with +exquisite manners, as much at home in our simplicity +as he doubtless is in scenes of luxury and magnificence. +Daisy Chanler drove out for afternoon tea, at my +request, and made herself charming. After her came +Emily Ladenberg, who also made a pleasing impression. +Our guest played on the piano and joined in +our evening whist. We were all delighted with +him."</p> + +<p>After the Ambassador's departure she writes:—</p> + +<p>"He gave me an interesting account of King Charles +Albert of Savoia. He is a man of powerful temperament, +which we all felt; has had to do with Bismarck +and Salisbury and all the great European politicians +of his time. We were all sorry to see him depart."</p> + + +<p><br />The Journal tells of many pleasures, among them +"a delightful morning in the green parlor with Margaret +Deland and dear Maud."</p> + +<p>On August 24 she writes:—</p> + +<p>"This day has been devoted to a family function of +great interest, namely, the christening of Daisy and +Wintie's boy baby, Theodore Ward, the President<a name="FNanchor_142_142" id="FNanchor_142_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_142_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a> +himself standing godfather. Jack Elliott and I were +on hand in good time, both of us in our best attire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304b" id="Page_304b">[304]</a></span> +We found a very chosen company, the Sydney Websters, +Owen Wister, Senator Lodge and wife, the +latter standing as godmother. Mr. Diman, of the +School,<a name="FNanchor_143_143" id="FNanchor_143_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_143_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a> officiated, Parson Stone being ill. The President +made his response quite audibly. The Chanler +children looked lovely, and the baby as dear as a +baby can look. His godfather gave him a beautiful +silver bowl lined with gold. I gave a silver porringer, +Maud a rattle with silver bells; lunch followed. President +Roosevelt took me in to the table and seated me +on his right. This was a very distinguished honor. +The conversation was rather literary. The President +admires Emerson's poems, and also Longfellow and +Sienkiewicz. He paid me the compliment of saying +that Kipling alone had understood the meaning of my +'Battle Hymn,' and that he admired him therefor. +Wister proposed the baby's health, and I recited a +quatrain which came to me early this morning. Here +it is:—</p> + +<p> +"Roses are the gift of God,<br /> +Laurels are the gift of fame;<br /> +Add the beauty of thy life<br /> +To the glory of thy name."<br /> +</p> + +<p>"I said, 'Two lines for the President and two for +the baby'; the two first naturally for the President. +As I sat waiting for the ceremony, I called the dear +roll of memory, Uncle Sam and so on back to Grandpa +Ward. I was very thankful to participate in this +beautiful occasion. But the service and talk about +the baby's being born in sin, etc., etc., seemed to me +very inconsistent with Christ's saying that he who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305b" id="Page_305b">[305]</a></span> +would enter into the Kingdom of Heaven must become +'as a little child.' He also said, 'of such is the kingdom +of heaven.'"</p> + +<p>She had a high admiration for Colonel Roosevelt, +and a regard so warm that she would never allow any +adverse criticism of him in her presence. The following +verses express this feeling:—</p> + +<p> +Here's to Teddy,<br /> +Blythe and ready,<br /> +Fit for each occasion!<br /> +Who as he<br /> +Acceptably<br /> +Can represent the Nation?<br /> +<br /> +Neither ocean<br /> +Binds his motion,<br /> +Undismayed explorer;<br /> +Challenge dares him,<br /> +Pullman bears him<br /> +Swifter than Aurora.<br /> +<br /> +Here's to Teddy!<br /> +Let no eddy<br /> +Block the onward current.<br /> +Him we trust,<br /> +And guard we must<br /> +From schemes to sight abhorrent.<br /> +<br /> +When the tuba<br /> +Called to Cuba<br /> +Where the fight was raging,<br /> +Rough and ready<br /> +Riders led he,<br /> +Valorous warfare waging.<br /> +<br /> +Here's to Teddy!<br /> +Safe and steady,<br /> +Loved by every section!<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306b" id="Page_306b">[306]</a></span>South and North<br /> +Will hurry forth<br /> +To hasten his election.<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">1904.</span> +</p> + +<p>On September 12, a notice of the death of William +Allen Butler is pasted in the Diary. Below it she +writes:—</p> + +<p>"A pleasant man. I met him at the Hazeltines' in +Rome in 1898 and 1899. His poem ["Nothing to +Wear"] was claimed by one or two people. I met his +father [a Cabinet Minister] at a dinner at the Bancrofts' +in New York, at which ex-President Van Buren +was also present, and W. M. Thackeray, who said to +me across the table that Browning's 'How They +Brought the Good News' was a 'good jingle.'"</p> + +<p>On the 29th she spoke at a meeting of the New +England Woman's Club in memory of Dr. Zakrzewska, +and records her final words:—</p> + +<p>"I pray God earnestly that we women may never +go back from the ground which has been gained for +us by our noble pioneers and leaders. I pray that +these bright stars of merit, set in our human firmament, +may shine upon us and lead us to better and +better love and service for God and man."</p> + +<p>"In the afternoon, to hear reports of delegates to +Biennial at Los Angeles. These were very interesting, +but the activity shown made me feel my age, and its +one great infirmity, loss of power of locomotion. I felt +somehow the truth of the line which Mr. Robert C. +Winthrop once quoted to me:—</p> + +<p> +"'Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage.'"<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307b" id="Page_307b">[307]</a></span>Yet a few days later she writes:—</p> + +<p>"I had this morning so strong a feeling of the goodness +of the divine Parent in the experience of my life, +especially of its most trying period, that I had to cry +out, 'What shall I, who have received so much, give +in return?' I felt that I must only show that forbearance +and forgiveness to others which the ever blessed +One has shown to me. My own family does not call +for this. I am cherished by its members with great +tenderness and regard. I thought later in the day +of a sermon to prisoners which would brighten their +thoughts of the love of God. Text from St. John's +Epistle, 'Behold what manner of love is this that we +should be called the sons of God.'"</p> + + +<p><br />This was the year of the coal strike in Pennsylvania, +which made much trouble in Boston. She notes one +Sunday that service at the Church of the Disciples +was held in the church parlors "on account of the +shortage of coal." This recalls vivid pictures of the +time; distracted coal merchants dealing out promises, +with nothing else to deal; portly magnates and +stately dames driving down Beacon Street in triumph +with coals in a paper bag to replenish the parlor fire: +darker pictures, too, of poverty and suffering.</p> + +<p>At 241 Beacon Street the supply was running low, +and the coal dealer was summoned by telephone. "A +load of coal? Impossible, madam! We have no—I +beg your pardon! Mrs. Julia Ward Howe? <i>Mrs. Howe's +house is cold?</i> You shall have some within the hour!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308b" id="Page_308b">[308]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>LOOKING TOWARD SUNSET</h3> + +<h4>1903-1905; <i>aet.</i> 84-86</h4> + +<p>IN MUSIC HALL</p> + +<p><i>Looking down upon the white heads of my contemporaries</i></p> + +<p> +Beneath what mound of snow<br /> +Are hid my springtime roses?<br /> +How shall Remembrance know<br /> +Where buried Hope reposes?<br /> +<br /> +In what forgetful heart<br /> +As in a cañon darkling,<br /> +Slumbers the blissful art<br /> +That set my heaven sparkling?<br /> +<br /> +What sense shall never know,<br /> +Soul shall remember;<br /> +Roses beneath the snow,<br /> +June in November.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + + +<p><br />The year 1903 began with the celebration at Faneuil +Hall of the fortieth anniversary of Lincoln's Emancipation +Proclamation. She was one of the speakers. +"I felt much the spirit of the occasion, and spoke, +I thought, better than usual, going back to the heroic +times before and during the war, and to the first celebration +forty years ago, at which I was present."</p> + +<p>Work of all kinds poured in, the usual steady stream.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 6.</i> Wrote a new circular for Countess."</p> + +<p>Who the Countess was, or what the circular was +about, is not known. By this time it had become the +custom (or so it seemed to exasperated daughters and +granddaughters) for any one who wanted anything in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309b" id="Page_309b">[309]</a></span> +the literary line, from a proverb to a pamphlet, to ask +her for it.</p> + +<p>It is remembered how on a certain evening, when +she was resting after a weary day, a "special delivery" +note was received from a person whom she scarcely +knew, asking for "her thoughts on the personality of +God, by return mail." This was one of the few requests +she ever denied. People asked her to give them +material for their club papers (sometimes to write +them!), to put them through college, to read their +manuscripts, to pay the funeral expenses of their relatives. +A volume of the letters conveying these requests +would be curious reading.</p> + +<p>The petition for a "little verse" was rarely refused. +Her notebooks are full of occasional poems, only a +small proportion of which ever appeared in print. +Many of them are "autographs." She always meant +to honor every request of this kind; the country must +be full of volumes inscribed by her. Here are a few +of them.</p> + +<p><br /><i>For Francis C. Stokes, Westtown School, Pennsylvania</i></p> + +<p> +Auspicious be the rule<br /> +Of love at Westtown School,<br /> +And happy, mid his youthful folks<br /> +The daily task of Master Stokes!<br /> +</p> + +<p>[When this gentleman's note came, she was "tired +to death." The granddaughter said, "You <i>can't</i> do it. +Let me write a friendly note, and you shall sign it!"</p> + +<p>"You're right," she said, "I can't: I am too tired +to think!" But when she saw the note taken away, +"No, no!" she cried, "I can! He is probably a most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310b" id="Page_310b">[310]</a></span> +hard-working man, and a little word may cheer him. +Here, I have a line already!"]</p> + +<blockquote><p>Wealth is good, health is better, character is best.</p></blockquote> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Citizens of the new world,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Children of the promise,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">So let us live!</span><br /><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Love to learn, and learn to love.</span></p> + +<blockquote><p>Remember to forget your troubles, but don't forget to remember +your blessings.</p></blockquote> + +<p>For Mr. Charles Gallup, who had written to her +several times without receiving a reply, she wrote—</p> + +<p> +If one by name Gallup<br /> +Desires to wallop<br /> +A friend who too slowly responds,<br /> +She will plead that her age<br /> +Has attained such a stage<br /> +She is held hand and foot in its bonds.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Here, again, are a few sentences, gathered from +various calendars.</p> + +<blockquote><p>The little girls on the school bench, using or misusing +their weekly allowance, are learning to build their future +house, or pluck it down.</p> + +<p>No gift can make rich those who are poor in wisdom.</p> + +<p>In whatever you may undertake, never sacrifice quality +for quantity, even when quantity pays and quality does not.</p> + +<p>For so long, the body can perform its functions and hold +together, but what term is set for the soul? Nothing in its +make-up foretokens a limited existence. Its sentence would +seem to be, "Once and always."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The verses in the notebooks are by no means all "by +request." The rhyming fit might seize her anywhere, +at any time. She wrote the rough draft on whatever +was at hand, often on the back of note, circular, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311b" id="Page_311b">[311]</a></span> +newspaper wrapper. She could never forget the war-time +days when paper cost half a dollar a pound.</p> + +<p>Nor were people content with writing: they came +singly, in pairs, in groups, to proffer requests, to pay +respects, to ask counsel. The only people she met unwillingly +were those who came to bewail their lot and +demand her sympathy.</p> + +<p>No one will ever know the number of her benefactions. +They were mostly, of necessity, small, yet we +must think they went a long way. At the New England +Woman's Club, whenever a good new cause came up, +she would say, "I will start the subscription with a +dollar!" Many noble and enduring things began with +the "President's dollar." If she had had a hundred +dollars to give, it would have been joyfully given: if +she had had but ten cents, it would not have been withheld. +She had none of the false pride which shrinks +from giving a small sum.</p> + +<p>Beggars and tramps were tenderly dealt with. +A discharged criminal in particular must never be +refused help. Work must be found for him if possible; +if not, it is to be feared that he got a dollar, "to help +him find work"!</p> + +<p>"<i>January 10.</i> At 11.30 received message from 'New +York World' that it would pay for an article sent at +once on 'Gambling among Society People.' Wrote +this in a little more than an hour."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 20....</i> Some little agitation about my +appearance at the Artists' Festival to-night, as one of +the patronesses. I had already a white woollen dress +quite suitable for the prescribed costume. Some benevolent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312b" id="Page_312b">[312]</a></span> +person or persons ordered for me and sent a +cloak of fine white cloth, beautiful to look at but heavy +to wear. A headdress was improvised out of one of my +Breton caps, with a long veil of lawn. Jack Elliott +made me a lovely coronet out of a bit of gold braid +with one jewel of dear Maud's. Arriving, to my surprise, +I found the Queen's chair waiting for me. I sat +thereon very still, the other patronesses being most +kind and cordial, and saw the motley throng and the +curious pageants. Costumes most beautiful, but the +hall too small for much individual effect. Adèle Thayer +wore the famous Thayer diamonds."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 27.</i> Woke early and began to worry about +the hearing.... Dressed with more care than usual +and went betimes to State House. Had a good deliverance +of my paper. The opposition harped upon our +bill as an effort to obtain class legislation, saying also +that they knew it to be an entering wedge to obtain +suffrage for all women; the two positions being evidently +irreconcilable. When our turn for rebuttal came, +I said: 'Many years ago John Quincy Adams presented +in Congress a petition for the abolition of slavery in +the District of Columbia, but none of the Southerners +imagined that this petition was intended to keep the +other negroes of the South in slavery! Are we, who, +for thirty years past, and more, have been coming +here to ask for full suffrage for all women, to be accused +of coming here now with a view to the exclusion of +our former clients from suffrage? How can we be said +to contemplate this and at the same time to be putting +in an entering wedge for universal suffrage?'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313b" id="Page_313b">[313]</a></span>"I thank God for what I did say at the hearing and +for what I did not say. Two of the opposing speakers +were rude in their remarks; all were absurd, hunting +an issue which they knew to be false, namely, our +seeking for class legislation."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 28.</i> Although very tired after yesterday's +meeting, I went in the evening to see 'Julius Cæsar' in +Richard Mansfield's interpretation. The play was +beautifully staged; Mansfield very good in the tent +scene; parts generally well filled...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 3.</i> My dear Maud returned this evening +from New York. She has been asked to speak at to-morrow's +suffrage hearing. I advised her to reflect +before embarking upon this new voyage.... When +she told me what she had in mind to say, I felt that a +real word had been given her. I said: 'Go and say +that!'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 1....</i> A telegram announced the birth of +my first great-grandchild, Harry Hall's infant daughter.<a name="FNanchor_144_144" id="FNanchor_144_144"></a><a href="#Footnote_144_144" class="fnanchor">[144]</a>..."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 11.</i> To Mrs. Bigelow Lawrence's, Parker +House, to hear music. Mrs. [Henry] Whitman called +for me.</p> + +<p>"Delightful music; two quartettes of Beethoven's, +a quintette of Mozart's, which I heard at Joseph Coolidge's +some thirty or more years ago. I recognized it +by the first movement, which Bellini borrowed in a +sextette which I studied in my youth from 'La Straniera,' +an opera never given in these days...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 17.</i> Winchendon lecture.... A day of anguish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314b" id="Page_314b">[314]</a></span> +for me. I was about to start for Winchendon +when my dearest Maud so earnestly besought me not +to go, the weather being very threatening, that I <i>could +not</i> deny her. Words can hardly say how I suffered in +giving up the trip and disappointing so many people.... +As I lay taking my afternoon rest, my heart said +to God, 'You cannot help me in this'; but He did help +me, for I was able soon after this to interest myself in +things at hand. I heard Mabilleau's lecture on French +art in its recent departure. It was brilliant and forcibly +stated, but disappointing. He quoted with admiration +Baudelaire's hideous poem, 'Un Carogne.'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 21.</i> In the afternoon attended anniversary +of the Blind Kindergarten, where I made, as usual, a +brief address, beginning with 'God said, Let there be +light,' a sentence which makes itself felt throughout +the human domain, where great-hearted men are +stirred by it to combat the spirits of darkness. Spoke +also of the culture of the blind as vindicating the dignity +of the human mind, which can become a value and +a power despite the loss of outward sense. Alluded to +dear Chev's sense of this and his resolve that the blind, +from being simply a burden, should become of value +to the community. The care of them draws forth +tender sympathy in those whose office it is to cherish +and instruct them. Spoke of the nursery as one of the +dearest of human institutions. Commended the little +blind nursery to the affectionate regard of seeing +people. The children did exceedingly well, especially +the orchestra. The little blind 'cellist was remarkable."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 2.</i> Dreamed last night that I was dead and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315b" id="Page_315b">[315]</a></span> +kept saying, 'I found it out immediately,' to those +around me...."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 28.</i> My prayer for the new year of my life +beginning to-day is, that in some work that I shall +undertake I may help to make clear the goodness of +God to some who need to know more of it than they +do...."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 22.</i> Mabel Loomis Todd wrote asking me for +a word to enclose in the corner-stone of the new +observatory building at Amherst [Massachusetts]. I +have just sent her the following:—</p> + +<p> +"The stars against the tyrant fought<br /> +In famous days of old;<br /> +The stars in freedom's banner wrought<br /> +Shall the wide earth enfold."<br /> +</p> + +<p>"<i>June 23.</i> Kept within doors by the damp weather. +Read in William James's book, 'Varieties of Religious +Experience.'... Had a strange fatigue—a restlessness +in my brain."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 25....</i> The James book which I finished +yesterday left in my mind a painful impression of +doubt; a God who should be only my better self, or an +impersonal pervading influence. These were suggestions +which left me very lonely and forlorn. To-day, +as I thought it all over, the God of Abraham, Isaac, +and Jacob seemed to come back to me; the God of +Christ, and his saints and martyrs. I said to myself: +'Let me be steeped in the devotion of the Psalms, and +of Paul's Epistles!' I took up Coquerel's sermons +on the Lord's Prayer, simple, beautiful, positive...."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 30.</i> <i>Oak Glen.</i> Rose at 6.15 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> and had good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316b" id="Page_316b">[316]</a></span> +luck in dressing quickly. With dear Flossy took 9 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> +train for Boston. At Middletown station found the +teachers from the West [Denver and Iowa], who +started the 'Battle Hymn' when they saw me approaching. +This seemed to me charming. My man +Michael, recognizing the tune, said: 'Mrs. Howe, this +is a send-off for you!'..."</p> + +<p>She was going to keep a lecture engagement in Concord, +Massachusetts; her theme, "A Century from the +Birth of Emerson." She was anxious about this paper, +and told Mr. Sanborn (the inevitable reporter calling +to borrow her manuscript) that she thought the less +said about the address the better. "I have tried very +hard to say the right thing, but doubt whether I +have succeeded." Spite of these doubts, the lecture +was received with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"<i>September 6.</i> I was very dull at waking and dreaded +the drive to church and the stay to Communion. The +drive partly dissipated my 'megrims'; every bright +object seemed to me to praise God.... The Communion +service was very comforting. Especially did +Christ's words come to me, 'Abide in me,' etc. I felt +that if I would abide in Him, old as I am, I could still +do some good work. 'Yes! my strong friend,' my heart +said, 'I will abide in thee,' and a bit of the old Easter +anthem came back to me, 'He sitteth at the right +hand of God, in the glory of the Father.' No, it is a +verse of the <i>Te Deum</i>."</p> + +<p>In October a lecture in South Berwick gave her the +opportunity, always greatly enjoyed, of a visit to +Sarah Orne Jewett and her sister Mary.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317b" id="Page_317b">[317]</a></span>"<i>November 1.</i> <i>South Berwick.</i> A delightful drive. +Mary Jewett, Annie Fields, and I to visit Mrs. Tyson +in the Hamilton House described by Sarah in her +'Tory Lover.'... Most interesting. Mrs. Tyson very +cordial and delightful.... She came over later to dinner +and we had such a pleasant time! In afternoon +copied most of my screed for the 'Boston Globe.'"</p> + +<p>It surely was not on this occasion that she described +dinner as "a thing of courses and remorses!"</p> + +<p>"<i>November 2.</i> Took reluctant leave of the Jewett +house and the trio, Sarah, Mary, and Annie Fields. +We had a wonderful dish of pigeons for lunch...."</p> + +<p>It was delightful to see our mother and Miss Jewett +together. They were the best of playmates, having a +lovely intimacy of understanding. Their talk rippled +with light and laughter. Such stories as they told! +such songs as they sang! who that heard will ever +forget our mother's story of Edward Everett in his +youth? He was to take three young ladies to drive, +and had but the one horse; he wished to please them +all equally. To the first he said, "The horse is perfectly +fresh now; you have him in his best condition." +To the second he said, "The horse was a little antic +at first, so you will have the safer drive." To the +third he said, "Now that the other two have had +their turn, we need not hasten back. You can have +the longest drive."</p> + +<p>It is recalled that during this visit, when Laura +felt bound to remonstrate in the matter of fruitcake, +"Sarah" took sides with ardor. "You shall have all +you want, Mrs. Howe, and a good big piece to take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318b" id="Page_318b">[318]</a></span> +home besides! Put it somewhere where the girls can't +find it!"</p> + +<p>She nodded. "There is a corner in my closet, which +even Maud dare not explore!"</p> + +<p>The fruitcake was duly packed, transported, and +eaten—we are bound to say without ill effect.</p> + +<p>This recalls the day when, leaving Gardiner, she +was presented with a packet of sandwiches, and +charged to have the Pullman porter bring her a cup of +bouillon. The next day Laura received a postal card.</p> + +<p>"Lunched at Portland on mince pie, which agreed +with me excellently, thank you!"</p> + +<p>Her postal cards were better than most people's +letters. You could almost see them sparkle. The signature +would be "Town Pump" or something equally +luminous. In fact, she so rarely signed her own name +in writing to us that when asked for autographs we +were posed. "Town Pump" was no autograph for the +author of the "Battle Hymn"!</p> + +<p>There was another mince pie, a little, pretty one, +which she saw at a Papéterie meeting, the last summer +of her life; saw, coveted, secreted, with her hostess's aid, +and smuggled home. Always a moderate eater, she +never could be made to see that age demanded a careful +diet. "I have eaten sausages all my life," she would +say. "They have always agreed with me perfectly!" Indeed, +till the very latest years, her digestion had never +failed her. It was in the eighties that she said to one +of us, "I have a singular sensation that I have never +felt before. Do you think it might possibly be indigestion?" +She described it, and it <i>was</i> indigestion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319b" id="Page_319b">[319]</a></span> +We are reminded of a contemporary of hers who, being +gently rebuked for giving rich food to a delicate +grandchild, replied with lofty scorn, "Stuff and nonsense! +<i>Teach his stomach!</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>November 8....</i> In late afternoon some visioning, +<i>i.e.</i>, lying down to rest and asking and answering questions +in my mind:—</p> + +<p>"Question: Can anything exceed the delight of the +first mutual understanding of two lovers?</p> + +<p>"Answer: This has its sacredness and its place, but +even better is the large affection which embraces things +human and divine, God and man.</p> + +<p>"Question: Are Saviour and Saints alive now?</p> + +<p>"Answer: If you believe that God is just, they must +be. They gave all for His truth: He owes them immortality."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 16.</i> Dear Auntie Francis's wedding day. +I think it was in 1828. My sisters and I were bridesmaids, +my brothers groomsmen. Dear father, very +lame, walked up with a cane to give her away. Grandma +Cutler looked much discontented with the match. +Father sent the pair off in his own carriage, with four +horses, their manes and tails braided with white ribbons. +They drove part of the way to Philadelphia."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 28....</i> To Wellesley College.... William +Butler Yeats lectured on the revival of letters in +Ireland. We dined with him afterwards at Miss Hazard's +house. He is a man of fiery temperament, with +a slight, boyish figure: has deep-set blue eyes and dark +hair; reminds me of John O'Sullivan<a name="FNanchor_145_145" id="FNanchor_145_145"></a><a href="#Footnote_145_145" class="fnanchor">[145]</a> in his temperament;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320b" id="Page_320b">[320]</a></span> +is certainly, as Grandpa Ward said of the Red +Revolutionists, with whom he dined in the days of the +French Revolution, 'very warm.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>November 29....</i> This came into my mind, +apropos of reformers generally: 'Dost thou so carry thy +light as to throw it upon <i>thyself</i>, or upon thy <i>theme</i>?' +This appears to me a legitimate question...."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 21.</i> Put the last touches to my verses +for Colonel Higginson's eightieth birthday. Maud went +with me to the celebration held by the Boston Authors' +Club at the Colonial Club, Cambridge. T. W. H. +seemed in excellent condition; I presided as usual. +Bliss Perry, first speaker, came rather late, but made +a very good address. Crothers and Dean Hodges followed, +also Clement. Judge Grant read a simple, strong +poem, <i>very good</i>, I thought. Then came my jingle, intended +to relieve the strain of the occasion, which I +think it did. Maud says that I hit the bull's eye; perhaps +I did. Then came a pretty invasion of mummers, +bearing the gifts of the Club, a fine gold watch and +a handsome bronze lamp. I presented these without +much talk, having said my say in the verses, to which, +by the bye, Colonel H. responded with some comic +personal couplets, addressed to myself."</p> + +<p><br />Here is the "jingle."</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Friends! I would not ask to mingle</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">This, my very foolish jingle,</span><br /> +With the tributes more decorous of the feast we hold to-day;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">But the rhymes came, thick and swarming</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Just like bees when honey's forming,</span><br /> +And I could not find a countersign to order them away.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321b" id="Page_321b">[321]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 4em;">For around this sixteenth lustre</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of our friend's, such memories cluster</span><br /> +Of the days that lie behind it, full of glories and regrets,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Days that brought their toils and troubles,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lit by some irradiant bubbles</span><br /> +Which became prismatic opals in the sun that never sets.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Picnics have we held together</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sailing in the summer weather,</span><br /> +Sitting low to taste the chowder on the sands of Newport Bay,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And that wonderful charade, sir,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">You know well, sir, that you made, sir,</span><br /> +When so many years of earnest did invite an hour of play.<br /> +<br /> +* * * +* * * <br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He shall rank now with the sages</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Who survive in classic pages,</span><br /> +English, German, French and Latin, Greek, so weary to construe;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Did he con his Epictetus</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ere he came to-night to greet us?</span><br /> +He, <i>àoristos</i> in reverence, among the learned few.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He may climb no more the mountain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">But he still employs the fountain</span><br /> +Pen from whose incisive point pure Helicon may flow,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And his "Yesterdays" so cheerful</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Charm the world so wild and tearful,</span><br /> +And the Devil calls for copy, and he never answers "No."<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Do I speak for everybody,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">When I utter this rhapsòdy,</span><br /> +To induce our friend to keep his pace in following Life's incline;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Never slacken, but come on, sir,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Eighty-four years I have won, sir;</span><br /> +Still the olive branch shall bless you, still the laurel wreath entwine!<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">So, you scribbling youths and lasses,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Elders, too, fill high your glasses!</span><br /> +Let the toast be Wentworth Higginson, of fourscore years possest;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">If the Man was good at twenty,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He is four times that now, ain't he?</span><br /> +We declare him four times excellent, and better than his best. +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322b" id="Page_322b">[322]</a></span>The early days of 1904 brought "a very severe blizzard. +Sent tea to the hackmen on Dartmouth Street +corner."</p> + +<p>She never forgot the hackmen in severe weather.</p> + +<p>"They <i>must</i> have something hot!" and tea or coffee +would be despatched to the shivering men. They were +all her friends; the Journal has many allusions to "Mr. +Dan" Herlihy, the owner of the cab stand, her faithful +helper through many a season.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 27, 1904.</i> I was so anxious to attend to-day's +[suffrage] meeting, and so afraid of Maud's opposition +to my going, that my one prayer this morning +was, 'Help me.' To my utter surprise she did not +oppose, but went with me and remained until our part +of the hearing was finished, when she carried me off. I +read my little screed, written yesterday. When I said, +'Intelligence has no sex, no, gentlemen, nor folly +either!' laughter resounded, as I meant it should...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 6.</i> In the evening to hear 'Elijah' finely +given. Some of the music brought back to me the desolate +scenery of Palestine. It is a very beautiful composition.... +The alto was frightened at first, coming +out stronger in 'Woe unto them,' and better still in +'Oh, rest in the Lord.' The audience seemed to me +sleepy and cold. I really led the applause for the alto."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 13.</i>... Wrote to John A. Beal, of Beal's +Island, offering to send instructive literature to that +benighted region, where three mountebanks, pretending +to teach religion, robbed the simple people and +excited them to acts of frenzy."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 17.</i> Mrs. Allen's funeral.... I had a momentary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323b" id="Page_323b">[323]</a></span> +mental vision of myself in the Valley of the +Shadow, with a splendid champion in full armor walking +beside me, a champion sent by God to make the +dread passage easy and safe...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 2....</i> Learned the deaths of X. and Abby +Morton Diaz. Poor X., her conduct made her impossible, +but I always thought she would send flowers to +my funeral. Mrs. Diaz is a loss—a high-strung, public-spirited +woman with an heroic history."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 4.</i> To the carriage-drivers' ball. They sent +a carriage for me and I took Mary, the maid.... Mr. +Dan was waiting outside for me, as was another of the +committee who troubled me much, pulling and hauling +me by one arm, very superfluous. My entrance was +greeted with applause, and I was led to the high seats, +where were two aides of the Governor, Dewey and +White, the latter of whom remembers Governor Andrew. +The opening march was very good. I was taken +in to supper, as were the two officers just mentioned. +We had a cozy little talk. I came away at about 10.30."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 14.</i> Mr. Butcher came to breakfast at nine +o'clock. He told me about the man Toynbee, whom he +had known well. He talked also about Greeks and +Hebrews, the animosity of race which kept them apart +until the flourishing of the Alexandrian school, when the +Jews greedily absorbed the philosophy of the Greeks."</p> + +<p>This was Mr. S. H. Butcher, the well-known Greek +scholar. She enjoyed his visit greatly, and they +talked "high and disposedly" of things classical and +modern.</p> + +<p>"<i>May 28.</i> My meeting of Women Ministers. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324b" id="Page_324b">[324]</a></span> +gathered very slowly and I feared that it would prove +a failure, but soon we had a good number. Mary +Graves helped me very much.... Afterwards I felt +a <i>malignant</i> fatigue and depression, not caring to do +anything."</p> + +<p>In June she received the first of her collegiate honors, +the degree of Doctor of Laws, conferred by Tufts College. +This gratified her deeply, and she describes the +occasion at length, noting that she was "favored with +the Tufts yell twice."</p> + +<p>"Lawrence Evans came, and Harry Hall.... I read +the part of my speech about which I had hesitated, +about our trying to put an end to the Turkish horrors. +It was the best of the speech. Seeking divine aid before +I made my remarks, I suddenly said to myself, +'Christ, <i>my brother</i>!' I never <i>felt</i> it before."</p> + +<p>"<i>June 16.</i> Maud would not allow me to attend +Quincy Mansion School Commencement, to my sincere +regret. The fatigue of yesterday was excessive, +and my dear child knew that another such occasion +would be likely to make me ill. Charles G. Ames came, +from whom I first learned the death of Mrs. Cheney's +sister, Mary Frank Littlehale; the funeral set for to-day.... +Dear E. D. C. seemed gratified at seeing me +and asked me to say a few words.... She thanked +me very earnestly for what I had said, and I at last +understood why I had not been allowed to go to +Quincy. It was more important that I should comfort +for a moment the bruised heart of my dear friend +than that I should be a guest at the Quincy Commencement."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325b" id="Page_325b">[325]</a></span>"<i>June 29.</i> Heard to my sorrow of the death of delightful +Sarah Whitman. Wrote a little screed for +'Woman's Journal' which I sent...."</p> + +<p>In early July, she went to Concord for a memorial +meeting in honor of Nathaniel Hawthorne.</p> + +<p>"<i>July 11....</i> Alice Blackwell, some days ago, wrote +beseeching me to write to President Roosevelt, begging +him to do something for the Armenians. I said +to myself, 'No, I won't; I am too tired and have done +enough.' Yesterday's sermon gave me a spur, and this +morning I have writ the President a long letter, to the +effect desired. God grant that it may have some result!"</p> + +<p>"<i>July 17.</i> I despaired of being able to write a poem +as requested for the Kansas semi-centennial celebration +in October, but one line came to me: 'Sing us a +song of the grand old time!' and the rest followed...."</p> + +<p>This poem is printed in "At Sunset."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 21.</i> Writ ... to Mrs. Martha J. Hosmer, of +Rock Point, Oregon, who wrote me a kindly meant +letter, exhorting me to 'seek the truth and live,' and +to write to a Mrs. Helen Wilman, eighty-five years old +and the possessor of some wonderful knowledge which +will help me to renew my youth...."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 25.</i> I could not go to church to-day, +fearing to increase my cold, and not wishing to leave +my dear family, so rarely united now. Have been reading +Abbé Loisy's 'Autour d'un petit Livre,' which is +an apologetic vindication of his work 'L'Évangile et +l'Église,' which has been put upon the Index [Expurgatorius]. +I feel sensibly all differences between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326b" id="Page_326b">[326]</a></span> +his apologetic <i>wobbly</i> vindication of the Church of +Rome, and the sound and firm faith of Thomas Hill."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 2.</i> Mr. Fitzhugh Whitehouse, having left +here a copy of my 'From Sunset Ridge' for me to furnish +with a 'sentiment,' I indited the following:—</p> + +<p> +From Sunset Ridge we view the evening sky,<br /> +Blood red and gold, defeat and victory;<br /> +If in the contest we have failed or won,<br /> +'Twas ours to live, to strive and so pass on."<br /> +</p> + +<p>"<i>October 5....</i> To Peace Congress, where Albert +Smiley was presiding. A wonderful feature came in the +person of a Hindu religionist, who came to plead the +cause of the Thibetan Llama. He said that the Thibetans +are not fighting people: are devoted to religious +contemplation, prayer, and spiritual life. He +spoke valorously of the religions in the East as by far +the most ancient. 'You call us heathen, but we don't +call you heathen'; a good point. He concluded by +giving to the assemblage a benediction in the fashion of +his own religion. It was chanted in a sweet, slightly +musical strain, ending with the repetition of a word +which he said meant 'peace.' So much was said about +peace that I had to ask leave for a word, and spoke of +justice as that without which peace cannot be had.... +I said:—</p> + +<p>'Mr. President and dear friends, assembled in the +blessed cause of Peace, let me remind you that there +is one word even more holy than peace, namely, justice. +It is anterior in our intellectual perceptions. The +impulse which causes men to contend against <i>in</i>justice +is a divine one, deeply implanted in the human<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327b" id="Page_327b">[327]</a></span> +breast. It would be wrong to attempt to thwart it. +I hope that The Hague Tribunal will bear in mind that +it is sacredly pledged to maintain justice. The brightest +intellects, the most profound study, should be devoted +to the promotion of this end.' The Greek bishop +met me in the ante-room and said, 'We always pray +for you.'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 9.</i> I have felt more strongly than ever of +late that God is the only comforter.... These great +serious things were always present to work for in days +in which I exerted myself to amuse others and myself +too. It is quite true that I have never given up serious +thought and study, but I have not made the serious +use of my powers which I ought to have made. The +Peace Congress has left upon my mind a strong impression +of what the lovers of humanity could accomplish +if they were all and always in earnest. I seem to +hope for a fresh consecration, for opportunities truly +to serve, and for the continuance of that gift of the +word which is sometimes granted me."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 12.</i> I to attend meeting of Council of +Jewish Women; say something regarding education....</p> + +<p>"I was warmly received and welcomed, and recited +my 'Battle Hymn' by special request. This last gave +me an unexpected thrill of satisfaction. The president +said: 'Dear Mrs. Howe, there is nothing in it to wound +us.' I had feared that the last verse might trouble +them, but it did not."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 19.</i> Was busy trying to arrange bills and +papers so as to go to Gardiner to-morrow with my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328b" id="Page_328b">[328]</a></span> +Richards son-in-law, when in the late afternoon Rosalind +told me that dear noble Ednah Cheney had died. +This caused me much distress. My first word was: +'The house of God is closed! Such a friend is indeed a +sanctuary to which one might retire for refuge from +all mean and unworthy things.'</p> + +<p>"A luminous intellect, unusual powers of judgment +and of sympathy as well. She has been a tower of +strength to me. I sent word by telephone to Charles +G. Ames, begging that <i>her</i> hymn might be sung at +church to-morrow...."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 21.</i> Dear E. D. C.'s funeral.... I spoke +of her faith in immortality, which I remember as unwavering. +I said: 'No, that lustrous soul is not gone +down into darkness. It has ascended to a higher light, +to which our best affections and inspirations may +aspire.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>December 25....</i> Got out my dearest little Sammy's +picture and placed it on my mantelshelf. [He +was a Christmas child.] Maud and I went to the +Oratorio, which we enjoyed.... I wondered whether +the heavenly ones could not enjoy the beautiful music."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 31.</i> A little festivity.... At supper I +was called upon for a toast, and after a moment's +thought, responded thus:—</p> + +<p> +"God grant us all to thrive,<br /> +And for a twelvemonth to be alive,<br /> +And every bachelor to wive;<br /> +And many blessings on the head<br /> +Of our dear Presidential Ted.<br /> +</p> + +<p>"We saw the year out; a year of grace to me, if ever +I had one."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329b" id="Page_329b">[329]</a></span>The new year (1905) found her in full health and +activity. On its first day she writes:—</p> + +<p>"I begin this book by thanking God most deeply +that He has permitted me to see the dawn of this New +Year, and by praying that I may not wilfully waste +one of its precious days. I am now about half through +my eighty-sixth year and must feel no surprise if the +mandate to remove should come suddenly or at any +time. But while I live, dear Lord, let me truly live in +energetic thought and rational action. Bless, I pray +Thee, my own dear family, my blessed country, +Christendom, and all mankind. This is my daily +prayer and I record it here. Is it amiss that in this +prayer my own people come first? No! for family +affection is the foundation of all normal human relations. +We begin with the Heavenly Father and open +out to the whole human brotherhood."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 2.</i> Had an anxious time hunting after my +Hawthorne screed to read this afternoon before the +New England Woman's Club. In my perplexity I +said: 'Lord, I do not deserve to have You help me +find it'; but the answer seemed to come thus: 'My +help is of grace and not according to desert'; and I +found it at once where I ought to have looked for it +at first...."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 20....</i> You can't do good with a bad +action." [Apropos of the shot fired at the Czar.]</p> + +<p>"The reason why a little knowledge is dangerous is +that your conceit of it may make you refuse to learn +more."</p> + +<p>She was writing a paper on Mrs. Stowe and "Uncle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330b" id="Page_330b">[330]</a></span> +Tom's Cabin," and worked hard over it. The pace +began to tell.</p> + +<p>She spoke for the friends of Russian freedom, "a +warm speech, almost without preparation. I knew that +I should find my inspiration in the occasion itself. I +had almost a spasm of thankfulness to Almighty God +for the opportunity to speak for such a cause at such +a time."</p> + +<p>At the suffrage hearing soon after, she "spoke of the +force of inertia as divinely ordained and necessary, but +ordained, too, to be overcome by the onward impulse +which creates worlds, life, and civilization. Said it was +this inertia which opposed suffrage, the <i>dread</i> of change +inherent in masses, material or moral, etc., etc."</p> + +<p>Among her winter delights were the "Longy" concerts +of instrumental music. She writes of one:—</p> + +<p>"Was carried away by the delight of the music—all +wind instruments. A trio of Handel for bassoon +and two oboes was most solid and beautiful.... I +could think of nothing but Shakespeare's 'Tempest' +and 'Midsummer Night's Dream.' The thought that +God had set all human life and work to music overpowered +me, and coming home I had a rhapsody of +thanksgiving for the wonderful gift...."</p> + +<p>The next day came an entertainment in aid of Atlanta +University and Calhoun School; she "enjoyed +this exceedingly, especially the plantation songs, which +are of profoundest pathos, mixed with overpowering +humor. It was pleasant, too, to see the audience in +which descendants of the old anti-slavery folk formed +quite a feature. I had worked hard at the screed which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331b" id="Page_331b">[331]</a></span> +was, I think, good. Heard interesting reports of mission +work in our entire South."</p> + +<p>At the Authors' Club she met Israel Zangwill, who +was "rather indifferent" when introduced to her. She +thought he probably knew nothing about her, and +adds,—</p> + +<p>"It is good perhaps to be taken down, now and then."</p> + +<p>In March she attended a hearing in connection with +the School Board. "The chair most courteously invited +me to speak, saying, 'There is here a venerable +lady who will hardly be likely to come here again for +the present discussion, so I shall give her the remaining +time.' Whereupon I leaped into the arena and said +my say."</p> + +<p>She had been for some time toiling over a paper on +the "Noble Women of the Civil War," finding it hard +and fatiguing work. On April 5 she writes:—</p> + +<p>"At 12 <span class="smcap">M.</span> I had finished my screed on the 'Noble +Women of the Civil War' which has been my nightmare +ever since March 24, when I began it, almost despairing +of getting it done.... I have written very +carefully and have had some things to say which may, +I hope, do good. I can now take up many small tasks +which have had to give way to this one...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 9.</i> The Greek celebration. The Greek Papa, +in full costume, intoned the Doxology and the assembly +all sang solemn anthems. Michael introduced me +first. My speech was short, but had been carefully prepared. +At the request of the Papa I said at the end: +'<i>Zeto ton Ellenikon ethnos.</i>' My speech and Greek +sentence were much applauded. A young Greek lady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332b" id="Page_332b">[332]</a></span> +presented me with a fine bouquet of white carnations +with blue and white ribbons, the colors of Greece. +Sanborn read from dear Chev's letters of 1825. Michael +spoke at great length, with great vehemence and +gesticulation. I understood many words, but could +only guess at the general drift. I imagine that it was +very eloquent, as he was much applauded."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 30.</i> Lorin Deland called to talk about the +verses which I am to write and read at his theatre. +The thought of Cassandra seized me. She, coming to +the house of the Atridæ, had a vision of its horrors; I, +coming to this good theatre, have a vision of the good +things which have been enjoyed there and which shall +still be enjoyed. Wrote down some five or six lines, +'lest I forget.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Deland were among her best friends +of the second generation. Indeed, there was such +a sympathy and comprehension between her and +"Margaret" that the latter playfully declared herself +a daughter abandoned in infancy, and was wont to sign +herself, "Your doorstep Brat"!</p> + +<p>"<i>May 5....</i> 'Without religion you will never know +the real beauty and glory of life; you will perceive the +discords, but miss the harmony; will see the defects, +but miss the good in all things.'"</p> + + +<p><br />In these years an added burden was laid upon her, +in the general and affectionate desire for her presence +on all manner of occasions. The firemen must have +her at their ball, the Shoe and Leather Trade at their +banquet, the Paint and Oils Association at their dinner.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333b" id="Page_333b">[333]</a></span> +Their festivities would not be complete without +her; she loved them, went to their parties, had the +right word to say, and came home happy, her arms full +of flowers.</p> + +<p>It was all beautiful and heart-warming, but it had +to be paid for. May 10 brought the punishment for +this season.</p> + +<p>"Annual Woman Suffrage supper. I was to have +spoken at this occasion and to have recited the poem +which I wrote for Castle Square Theatre, but it was +otherwise ordained. I rose as usual, my head a little +misty. A mighty blow of vertigo seized me.... The +elder Wesselhoeft pronounced it a 'brain fag,' not +likely to have serious results, but emphatically a <i>warning</i> +not to abuse further my nervous strength. Got up +in afternoon and finished 'Villa Claudia'; was bitterly +sad at disappointing the suffragists and Deland."</p> + +<p>Dr. Wesselhoeft was asked on this occasion why, at +her age, so severe an attack as this had not resulted +in paralysis. "Because," he replied, "she brought to +receive it the strength of forty years of age!"</p> + +<p>Sure enough, the next day she felt as if her "nervous +balance was very well restored," and in a week she +was at work again.</p> + +<p>"<i>May 18....</i> In the evening had word of a Decoration +Day poem needed. At once tried some lines."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 19.</i> Doubted much of my poem, but wrote +it, spending most of the working hours over it; wrote +and rewrote, corrected again and again. Julia Richards +mailed it at about 4 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>... Just as I went to bed +I remembered that in the third verse of my poem I had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334b" id="Page_334b">[334]</a></span> +used the words 'tasks' and 'erect' as if they rhymed. +This troubled me a good deal. My prayer was, 'God +help the fool.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>May 20.</i> My trouble of mind about the deficient +verse woke me at 6.30 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> I tossed about and wondered +how I could lie still until 7.30, my usual time for +rising. The time passed somehow. I could not think of +any correction to make in my verse. Hoped that I +should find that I had not written it as I feared. When +I came to look at it, there it was. Instantly a line with +a proper rhyme presented itself to my mind. To add +to my trouble I had lost the address to which I had +sent the poem. My granddaughter, Julia Richards, +undertook to interview the Syndicate by long-distance +telephone, and, failing this, to telegraph the new +line for me. So I left all in her hands. When I returned, +she met me with a smile and said, 'It is all +right, Grandmother.' She had gone out, found a New +York directory, guessed at the Syndicate, got the correspondent, +and put her in possession of the new line. +I was greatly relieved. I have been living lately with +work running after me all the time. Must now have +a breathing spell. Have still my 'Simplicity' screed +to complete."</p> + + +<p><br />The Authors' Club celebrated her eighty-sixth birthday +by a charming festival, modelled on the Welsh +Eistedfodd, "at which every bard of that nation +brought four lines of verse—a sort of four-leaved +clover—to his chief."<a name="FNanchor_146_146" id="FNanchor_146_146"></a><a href="#Footnote_146_146" class="fnanchor">[146]</a> Sixty quatrains made what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335b" id="Page_335b">[335]</a></span> +she calls "an astonishing testimonial of regard." Colonel +Higginson, who presided most charmingly, read +many of these tributes aloud, and the Birthday Queen +responded in a rhyme scribbled hastily the day before. +Here are a few of the tributes, together with her +"reply":—</p> + +<p>EISTEDFODD</p> + +<p> +Each bard of Wales, who roams the kingdom o'er<br /> +Each year salutes his chief with stanzas four;<br /> +Behold us here, each bearing verse in hand<br /> +To greet the four-leaved clover of our band.<br /> + +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 10em;"> Thomas Wentworth Higginson.</span> +</p> +<p>FIVE O'CLOCK WITH THE IMMORTALS</p> + +<p> +The Sisters Three who spin our fate<br /> +Greet Julia Ward, who comes quite late;<br /> +How Greek wit flies! They scream with glee,<br /> +Drop thread and shears, and make the tea.<br /> +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 10em;"> E. H. Clement.</span> +<br /> +<br /> +If man could change the universe<br /> +By force of epigrams in verse,<br /> +He'd smash some idols, I allow,<br /> +But who would alter Mrs. Howe?<br /> + +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 10em;"> Robert Grant.</span> +<br /> +<br /> +Dot oldt Fader Time must be cutting some dricks,<br /> +Vhen he calls our goot Bresident's age eighty-six.<br /> +An octogeranium! Who would suppose?<br /> +My dear Mrs. Julia Ward Howe der time goes!<br /> + +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 5em;"> Yawcob Strauss (Charles Follen Adams).</span> +<br /> +<br /> +You, who are of the spring,<br /> +To whom Youth's joys must cling.<br /> +May all that Love can give<br /> +Beguile you long to live—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Our Queen of Hearts.</span><br /> + +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 10em;">Louise Chandler Moulton.</span> + +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336b" id="Page_336b">[336]</a></span>MRS. HOWE'S REPLY<br /> +<br /> +Why, bless you, I ain't nothing, nor nobody, nor much,<br /> +If you look in your Directory, you'll find a thousand such;<br /> +I walk upon the level ground, I breathe upon the air,<br /> +I study at a table, and reflect upon a chair.<br /> +<br /> +I know a casual mixture of the Latin and the Greek,<br /> +I know the Frenchman's <i>parlez-vous</i>, and how the Germans speak;<br /> +Well can I add, and well subtract, and say twice two is four,<br /> +But of those direful sums and proofs remember nothing more.<br /> +<br /> +I wrote a pretty book one time, and then I wrote a play,<br /> +And a friend who went to see it said she fainted right away.<br /> +Then I got up high to speculate upon the Universe,<br /> +And folks who heard me found themselves no better and no worse.<br /> +<br /> +Yes, I've had a lot of birthdays and I'm growing very old,<br /> +That's why they make so much of me, if once the truth were told.<br /> +And I love the shade in summer, and in winter love the sun,<br /> +And I'm just learning how to live, my wisdom's just begun.<br /> +<br /> +Don't trouble more to celebrate this natal day of mine,<br /> +But keep the grasp of fellowship which warms us more than wine.<br /> +Let us thank the lavish hand that gives world beauty to our eyes,<br /> +And bless the days that saw us young, and years that make us wise. +</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>May 27.</i> My eighty-sixth birthday. I slept rather +late, yesterday having been eminently a 'boot-and-saddle' +day.... The Greeks, mostly working-people, +sent me a superb leash of roses with a satin ribbon +bearing a Greek inscription. My visitors were numerous, +many of them the best friends that time has left +me. T. W. H. was very dear. My dear ones of the +household bestirred themselves to send flowers, according +to my wishes, to the Children's Hospital and +to Charles Street Jail."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 28.</i>... A great box of my birthday flowers +ornamented the pulpit of the church. They were to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337b" id="Page_337b">[337]</a></span> +distributed afterwards to the Sunday-School children, +some to the Primary Teachers' Association; a bunch +of lilies of the valley to Reverend Hayward's funeral +to-morrow. I suddenly bethought me of Padre +Roberto, and with dear Laura's help sent him a box +of flowers for his afternoon service, with a few lines of +explanation, to which I added the motto: '<i>Unus deus, +una fides, unum baptisma.</i>' This filled full the cup of +my satisfaction regarding the disposal of the flowers. +They seemed to me such sacred gifts that I could not +bear merely to enjoy them and see them fade. Now +they will not fade for me."</p> + + +<p><br />Among the many "screeds" written this season was +one on "The Value of Simplicity," which gave her +much trouble. She takes it to pieces and rewrites it, +and afterwards is "much depressed; no color in anything." +From Gardiner she "writes to Sanborn" for +the Horatian lines she wishes to quote. ("Whenever," +she said once to Colonel Higginson, "I want to find +out about anything difficult, I always write to Sanborn!" +"Of course!" replied Higginson. "We all do!" +At this writing the same course is pursued, there is +reason to believe, by many persons in many countries.)</p> + +<p>It is remembered that in these days when she was +leaving Gardiner at the last moment she handed Laura +a note. It read, "Be sure to rub the knee thoroughly +night and morning!"</p> + +<p>"Why," she was asked, "did I not have this a week +ago?"</p> + +<p>"I hate to be rubbed!" she said.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338b" id="Page_338b">[338]</a></span>"<i>July 1. Oak Glen</i>.... Found a typed copy of my +'Rest' sermon, delivered in our own church, twelve +years ago. Surely preaching has been my greatest +privilege and in it I have done some of my best work."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 2</i>. Unusually depressed at waking. Feared +that I might be visited by 'senile melancholia' against +which I shall pray with all my might.... Began +Plato's 'Laws.'"</p> + +<p>Plato seems to have acted as a tonic, for on the same +day she writes to her daughter-in-law, expressing her +joy in "Harry's" latest honor, the degree of Doctor +of Laws conferred by Harvard College:—</p> + +<p class="center"><i>To Mrs. Henry Marion Howe</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, July 2, 1905. +</div> + +<p>Thanks very much for your good letter, giving me +such a gratifying account of the doings at Harvard +on Commencement Day. I feel quite moved at the +thought of my dear son's receiving this well-merited +honor from his <i>alma mater</i>. It shows, among other +things, how amply he has retrieved his days of boyish +mischief. This is just what his dear father did. I +think you must both have had a delightful time. How +did our H. M. H. look sitting up in such grave company? +I hope he has not lost his old twinkle. I am +very proud and glad....</p></blockquote> + + +<p>She was indeed proud of all her son's honors; of any +success of child or grandchild; yet she would pretend +to furious jealousy. "I see your book is praised, Sir!" +(or, "Madam!") "It probably does not deserve it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339b" id="Page_339b">[339]</a></span> +H'm! nobody praises <i>my</i> books!" etc., etc. And all the +time her face so shining with pleasure and tenderness +under the sternly bended brows that the happy child +needed no other praise from any one.</p> + +<p>"<i>July 23</i>.... I feel to-day the isolation consequent +upon my long survival of the threescore and ten apportioned +as the term of human life. Brothers and +sisters, friends and fellow-workers, many are now in +the silent land. I am praying for some good work, paying +work, so that I may efficiently help relatives who +need help, and good causes whose demand for aid is +constant...."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 24</i>. To-day Harry and Alice Hall have left +me with their two dear children. I have had much delight +with baby Frances, four months old.... I pray +that I may be able to help these children. I looked forward +to their visit as a kindness to them and their +parents, but it has been a great kindness to me...."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 5</i>. Some bright moments to-day. At +my prayer a thought of the divine hand reaching down +over the abyss of evil to rescue despairing souls!..."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 19</i>. Dear Flossy and Harry left. I shall +miss them dreadfully. She has taken care of me these +many weeks and has been most companionable and +affectionate. My dear boy was as ever very sweet +and kind...."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 22</i>. Have puzzled much about my promised +screed for the 'Cosmopolitan' on 'What would be +the Best Gift to the People of the Country?' As I got +out of bed it suddenly occurred to me as 'the glory of +having promoted recognition of human brotherhood.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340b" id="Page_340b">[340]</a></span> +This must include 'Justice to Women.' I meant to +tackle the theme at once, but after breakfast a poem +came to me in the almost vulgar question, 'Does your +Mother know you're out?' I had to write this, also +a verse or two in commemoration of Frederic L. +Knowles, a member of our Authors' Club, who has +just passed away."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 25</i>.... I must have got badly chilled +this morning, for my right hand almost refuses to +guide the pen. I tried several times to begin a short +note to David Hall, but could not make distinct letters. +Then I forced myself to pen some rough draft +and now the pen goes better, but not yet quite right. +I had the same experience last winter once. I suppose +that I have overtired my brain; it is a warning...."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 5</i>.... I had a moment of visioning, in +which I seemed to see Christ on the cross refusing to +drink the vinegar and gall, and myself to reach up a +golden cup containing 'the love pledge of humanity.' +Coming home I scrawled the verses before lying down +to rest."<a name="FNanchor_147_147" id="FNanchor_147_147"></a><a href="#Footnote_147_147" class="fnanchor">[147]</a></p> + +<p>"<i>October 9</i>. After a week of painful anxiety I learn +to-day that my screed for the 'Cosmopolitan' is accepted. +I felt so persuaded to the contrary that I +delayed to open the envelope until I had read all my +other letters...."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 25</i>. Meeting of Boston Authors' Club.... +Worked all the morning at sorting my letters and +papers.... Laura, Maud, and I drove out to Cambridge.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341b" id="Page_341b">[341]</a></span> +I had worked hard all the morning, but had +managed to put together a scrap of rhyme in welcome +of Mark Twain. A candle was lit for me to read +by, and afterwards M. T. jumped upon a chair and +made fun, some good, some middling, for some three +quarters of an hour. The effect of my one candle +lighting up his curly hair was good and my rhyme +was well received.</p> + +<p> +"<i>Mark</i> the gracious, welcome guest,<br /> +Master of heroic jest;<br /> +He who cheers man's dull abodes<br /> +With the laughter of the gods;<br /> +To the joyless ones of earth<br /> +Sounds the reveille of mirth.<br /> +<br /> +"Well we meet, to part with pain,<br /> +But ne'er shall <i>he</i> and <i>we</i> be Twain."<br /> +</p> + +<p>"<i>December 5. Gardiner, Maine.</i> On coming to +breakfast found a note from dearest Maud, saying that +she would sail this day for Spain. Was much overcome +by this intelligence, yet felt that it was on the whole +best. The day passed rather heavily, the relish seemed +gone from everything."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 6. Boston</i>.... Reaching home I lay +down to rest, but the feeling of Maud's departure so +overpowered me that I got up and went about, crying +out: 'I can't stand it!' I soon quieted down, being +comforted by my dear Laura, Julia, and Betty, but +could not sleep until bedtime, when I slept soundly."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342b" id="Page_342b">[342]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>"THE SUNDOWN SPLENDID AND SERENE"</h3> + +<h4>1906-1907; <i>aet.</i> 87-88</h4> + +<p>HYMN FOR THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF +RELIGIOUS LIBERALS</p> + +<p><i>Held in Boston, 1907</i></p> + +<p> +Hail! Mount of God, whereon with reverent feet<br /> +The messengers of many nations meet;<br /> +Diverse in feature, argument, and creed,<br /> +One in their errand, brothers in their need.<br /> +<br /> +Not in unwisdom are the limits drawn<br /> +That give far lands opposing dusk and dawn;<br /> +One sun makes bright the all-pervading air,<br /> +One fostering spirit hovers everywhere.<br /> +<br /> +So with one breath may fervent souls aspire,<br /> +With one high purpose wait the answering fire.<br /> +Be this the prayer that other prayers controls,—<br /> +That light divine may visit human souls.<br /> +<br /> +The worm that clothes the monarch spins no flaw,<br /> +The coral builder works by heavenly law;<br /> +Who would to Conscience rear a temple pure<br /> +Must prove each stone and seal it, sound and sure.<br /> +<br /> +Upon one steadfast base of truth we stand,<br /> +Love lifts her sheltering walls on either hand;<br /> +Arched o'er our head is Hope's transcendent dome,<br /> +And in the Father's heart of hearts our home.<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + + +<p><br />"I pray for many things this year. For myself, I +ask continued health of mind and body, work, useful, +honorable, remunerative, as it shall please God to +send; for my dear family, work of the same description +with comfortable wages, faith in God, and love to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343b" id="Page_343b">[343]</a></span> +each other; for my country, that she may keep her +high promise to mankind; for Christendom, that it +may become more Christ-like; for the struggling nationalities, +that they may attain to peace and justice."</p> + +<p>"Such a wonderful dream in the early morning. I +was in some rural region alone; the clear blue sky was +over my head. I looked up and said, 'I am fed from +God's table. I am sheltered under His roof.' While +I still felt this joy, a lone man, passing by, broke into +a complaint on the hardness of things. I wanted in my +dream to call him back, but he passed too rapidly. I +still see in my 'mind's eye' that blue sky and the lone +man passing by, I still recall the thrill of that meditation, +literally in Dreamland, as I was quite asleep +when it visited me...."</p> + + +<p><br />The great event of this winter was a trip to Baltimore +for a Woman Suffrage Convention.</p> + +<p>"<i>February 4.</i> I had not been able to think of anything +to say in Baltimore, but this morning it seemed +to come to me. I have just written out my screed, ... +taking a point of view which I do not think I have +presented before, viz.: that inferior education and restricted +activity made women the inferiors of men, as +naturally as training, education, and free agency make +civilized men the superior of the savage. I think that +the dear Lord gave me this screed, which is short and +simple enough, but, I think, convincing...."</p> + +<p>This Convention came near being her last. Tonsillitis +was epidemic in the city; the halls were draughty; +at one meeting a woman with a severe cold, a stranger,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344b" id="Page_344b">[344]</a></span> +kissed her effusively. She took the infection, was prostrated +for some days, and made the return journey +while still too weak to travel. Florence, who was with +her, protested in vain. "I would go," she said, "<i>if the +hearse was at the door!</i>" A serious illness followed on +her return. A month and more passed before she +began to regain strength and spirits.<a name="FNanchor_148_148" id="FNanchor_148_148"></a><a href="#Footnote_148_148" class="fnanchor">[148]</a></p> + +<p>"<i>March 31.</i> Had a happy lighting up when I lay +down for afternoon rest. Felt the immensity of God's +goodness and took heart for the future."</p> + +<p>In April she records "a delightful visit from Robert +Collyer, accompanied by Annie Fields. I asked him: +'Robert, what is religion?' He replied, 'To love God +with all one's heart, Christ helping us.' He began his +prayer last Sunday thus: 'Our Father who art in +heaven, on earth, and in hell!'"</p> + +<p>On April 13, she was "out for the first time since +February 14, when I returned sick from Baltimore...."</p> + +<p>Another week and she was at her church, for the first +time since January 18.</p> + +<p>It had been a long and weary time, yet one remembers +not so much the suffering and confinement as the +gayety of it. There was a sigh for the Journal, but for +the family, and the faithful nurse,—</p> + +<p> +"Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,<br /> +Nods and becks, and wreathéd smiles."<br /> +</p> + +<p>This nurse was known to others as Lucy Voshell, +but her patient promptly named her "Wollapuk."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345b" id="Page_345b">[345]</a></span> +She was as merry as she was skillful, and the two made +much fun together. Even when the patient could +not speak, she could twinkle. As strength gradually +returned, the ministrations of Wollapuk became positively +scenes of revelry; and the anxious guardian +below, warding off would-be interviewers or suppliants, +might be embarrassed to hear peals of laughter +ringing down the stair.</p> + +<p>Early in May she has "young J. W. Hurlburt to +dine; a pleasant young playwright, grandson to General +Hurlburt of the Civil War...."</p> + +<p>"I had lent my play of 'Hippolytus' to young Hurlburt +to read. He brought it back yesterday with so +much praise of parts of it as to revive the pang which +I felt when, Charlotte Cushman and Edwin Booth +having promised to fill the principal parts, the manager's +wife suddenly refused to fill her part, and the +whole fell through. This with much other of my best +literary work has remained a dead letter on my own +shelves. I am glad as well as sad to feel that it deserved +better treatment."</p> + +<p>She had a wheel-chair, and on pleasant days it +was her delight to be wheeled through the Public +Garden, now in full May beauty, to see the flowers +and the children. She was able to attend several meetings, +and to write several papers.</p> + +<p>"<i>May 18.</i> Have read part of the recital of Anna +Ticknor's achievement in her society to encourage +studies at home. Her work is really heroic. I wish that +I had better understood it. Still I did admire it a great +deal, but had little idea of the great benevolence and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346b" id="Page_346b">[346]</a></span> +sympathy developed in her work, which was a godsend +to thousands of women."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 26.</i> My dear son arrived in the evening to +celebrate my birthday. He seems well and happy. I +was thankful to see him. Flowers kept arriving all +day."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 27.</i> Attended church and carried some of +my birthday flowers for the pulpit.... In the +afternoon a beautiful reception which the rain kept +from being the over-crowd which I had rather feared. +Colonel Higginson came and gave me some lovely +verses written for the occasion. William R. Thayer +did likewise. Arthur Upson had already sent me +some. I enjoyed it all very much; dined downstairs +with my dear family, who drank my health standing. +H. M. H., being called upon for a word, said, 'The +dear old girl!' and could not have said better. I +thanked and blessed them all. We passed the evening +together. The Greeks of Boston sent splendid red +roses and ribbons with motto. The Italians sent +flowers."</p> + +<p>After this she wrote an essay on "How to Keep +Young," in which she says:—</p> + +<p>"Try to keep in touch with the best spirits of your +time, with those who are raising instead of lowering +the tone of the atmosphere in which they live.</p> + +<p>"Avoid the companionship of those who deride sacred +things and are inclined to ignore the limits of +refinement and good taste.</p> + +<p>"Remember that ignoble amusements react upon +character.</p> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347b" id="Page_347b">[347]</a></span>"Never forget that we grow like to that we contemplate.</p> +<p> "Keep it always in mind that it must be through +our own efforts that our progress through life shall +bring with it the fulfilment of the best promise of our +youth."</p> + + +<p><br />"<i>July 2. Oak Glen.</i> Nurse Voshell, nicknamed by +me Wollapuk, left this morning. I have become so +dependent upon her that I shall miss her very much. +I have been impatient of having her so long, but now +see how very helpful she has been to me.</p> + +<p>"I began to write a retrospect of my essay on 'Distinctions +between Philosophy and Religion,' but feel +that this will be of little value. Oh! that I had taken +Dr. Hedge's advice and published these papers soon +after they were written. As it is I have lost two of the +best of them, viz.: this one just mentioned and 'Moral +Triangulation of the Third Party,' in obligations and +contrasts."</p> + +<p>In these days she met with a grave loss in the death +of Michael Anagnos.</p> + +<p>"I am deeply grieved at his death, which is a real +loss to me and my family, and almost irreparable to the +Institution which he has served nobly with entire devotion +and disinterest and has enriched by his great +and constant efforts. He built three Kindergartens for +the blind. God rest his soul!</p> + +<p>"I pray that my great pain at the death of my +son-in-law may inspire me to help the blind as I never +have helped them!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348b" id="Page_348b">[348]</a></span>"My strength has failed so much of late that my +strong love of life begins to waver. I should be glad +to live to print some of my studies in Philosophy, and +to have some of my musical compositions taken down +by dictation."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 31....</i> The last day of a summer which +brought a serious grief in the death of Michael Anagnos, +who, ever since my visit to Greece in 1867, has been +an important factor in my life. I am much troubled +in the effort to compose a poem to be read at the memorial +services to be held for him in late October...."</p> + +<p>A photograph taken at this time shows her sitting +in her hooded chair on the piazza, her Greek books +and her canary beside her, a serene and lovely picture. +It was so she used to sit every morning. First she read +her Testament, and a prayer of James Martineau, +or some other good saint; this she called "taking +the altitude"; then she turned to her Æschylus or +Aristotle.</p> + +<p>Before thus settling down, there would be a walk +on the piazza, or along the highway. Sheltered by +a broad hat, the friend of many years, wrapped in +the "passionate pilgrim," as she named a certain +ancient purple cloak, leaning on her ebony stick—who +that passed that way has not seen her? Bits of +her talk, as we strolled together, come back to us; as +when the clouds parted suddenly at the close of a gray +day, then shutting in again. "Oh!" she cried, "it +is like being engaged to the man you love, for five +minutes!"</p> + +<p>"<i>September 16....</i> I had had much hesitation about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349b" id="Page_349b">[349]</a></span> +undertaking to speak at Shiloh Baptist Church [colored] +this afternoon; but it came to me as something +which I ought to do, and so I gave the promise, and, +with some studying, wrote the sermon. The result +fully justified the effort. I spoke to a large and very +attentive congregation, in which a number of white +outsiders were mingled in with the people of the +church.... Mrs. Jeter sang my 'Battle Hymn,' the +congregation joining in the 'Glory Hallelujah.' I then +read my screed, which was heard with profound attention, +one and another crying out at intervals, 'Amen!' +and 'Glory be to God!'... I was very thankful for +the good issue of what had seemed an almost wild +undertaking at eighty-seven years of age."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 23.</i> Have prayed and worked over the +poem for Michael's memorial services—think that I +have made it as good as I can, but not good enough. +Alas! I am too old."</p> + +<p>She went up to Boston for this meeting in Tremont +Temple, which was a most impressive one, Greeks and +Americans uniting to do honor to a good man.</p> + +<p>"<i>October 24....</i> I read my verse, my voice serving +me very well. Bishop Lawrence helped me both to +rise and to return to my seat. He made a most touching +allusion to my dearest dear Julia's devotion to the +blind, and said where a man was engaged in a noble +work there usually rose up a noble woman to help +him."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 26.</i> Had a sudden blessed thought this +morning, viz.: that the 'Tabernacle eternal in the +heavens' is the eternity of truth and right. I naturally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350b" id="Page_350b">[350]</a></span> +desire life after death, but if it is not granted me, I +have yet a part in the eternal glory of this tabernacle."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 29.</i> Dear H. M. H. left us this morning, +after a short but very pleasant visit. He brought here +his decorations of his Russian order to show us; they +are quite splendid. He is the same dear old simple +music- and mischief-loving fellow, very sensitive for +others, very modest for himself, and very dear."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 7....</i> Prayed <i>hard</i> this morning that +my strength fail not."</p> + +<p>During this summer, an electric elevator had been +put into the Boston house, and life was made much +easier for her. From this time we became familiar +with the vision of her that still abides, flitting up or +down in her gilded car. Watching her ascent, clad in +white, a smile on her lips, her hand waving farewell, +one could only think of "The chariot of Israel and +the horsemen thereof."</p> + +<p>Another good gift was a Victor machine. When the +after-dinner reading was over, she would say, "Now +bring my opera-box!"</p> + +<p>The white armchair was wheeled into the passage +between the two parlors. Here she sat in state, while +the great singers poured out their treasures before her, +while violinist and pianist gave her their best. She +listened with keen and critical enjoyment, recalling +how Malibran gave this note, how Grisi and Mario +sang that duet. Then she would go to the piano and +play from memory airs from "Tancredi," "Il Pirata," +"Richard Cœur de Lion," and other operas known to +us only through her. Or she would—always without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351b" id="Page_351b">[351]</a></span> +notes—play the "Barber of Seville" almost from +beginning to end, with fingers still deft and nimble.</p> + +<p>She loved the older operas best. After an air from +"Don Giovanni," she would say, "Mozart must be in +heaven: they could never get on without him!" She +thought Handel's "Messiah" the most divine point +reached by earthly music. Beethoven awed and swayed +her deeply, and she often quoted his utterance while +composing, "<i>Ich trat in der Nähe Gottes!</i>" She thrilled +with tender pleasure over Verdi's "<i>Non ti scordar</i>," or +"<i>Ai nostri monti</i>," and over "Martha." She enjoyed +Chopin "almost too much." "He is exquisite," she +would say, "but somehow—rotten!"</p> + +<p>Among the pleasures of this winter was a visit to +New York. She writes after it:—</p> + +<p>"My last day in my dear son's house. He and +Fannie have been devotedly kind to me. They made +me occupy their room, much to my bodily comfort, +but to the great disquiet of my mind, as I hated +much to inconvenience them. My son has now a very +eminent position.... God bless the house and all in it."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 17.</i> The Old South Chapter of D.A.R.'s +met in the real Old South Church; there was much +good speaking. I recited my 'Battle Hymn' and +boasted my descent from General Marion, the Swamp +Fox, saying also, 'When, eluding the vigilance of children +and grandchildren, I come to such a meeting as +this, without a previous promise not to open my lips, +I think that I show some of the dexterity of my illustrious +relative.' I also had to spring up and tell them +that my grandmother, niece to General Marion, gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352b" id="Page_352b">[352]</a></span> +her flannel petticoat to make cartridges for the soldiers +of the Revolution."</p> + +<p>The path of the guardian (or jailer, as she sometimes +put it) was not always plain. The wayfaring +woman might easily err therein.</p> + +<p>After some severe fatigue, convention or banquet, +she might say, "This is the last time. Never let me do +this again!"</p> + +<p>Thereupon a promise would be exacted and made. +The fatigue would pass and be forgotten, and the next +occasion be joyously prepared for.</p> + +<p>"You told me not to let you go!" the poor jailer +would say.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't mean it!"</p> + +<p>"But you promised!"</p> + +<p>"That was two weeks ago. Two weeks is a long +time for me to keep a promise!"</p> + +<p>If the jailer still persisted, she played her last card +and took the trick.</p> + +<p>"I can't talk about it. You tire my head!"</p> + +<p>Now and then Greek met Greek. One snowy afternoon +she encountered the resident granddaughter, +cloaked and hooded, preparing to brave the storm.</p> + +<p>"Dear child," said the grandmother, "I do not +often use authority with you young people, but this +time I must. I cannot allow you to go out in this +blizzard!"</p> + +<p>"Dearest grandmother," replied the maiden, "<i>where +are you going yourself</i>?"</p> + +<p>There was no reply. The two generations dissolved +in laughter, and started out together.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353b" id="Page_353b">[353]</a></span>She bids farewell to 1906 as "dear Year that hast +brought me so many comforts and pleasures!" and +thus hails the New Year:—</p> + +<p>"I earnestly pray for God's blessing on this year!... +I might possibly like one more European journey +to see the Gallery at Madrid, and the châteaux +of Touraine, but I do not ask it, as I may have more +important occupation for my time and money.... +<i>Du reste</i>, the dear Father has done so much better +for me, in many ways, than I have ingenuity to wish, +that I can only say, 'Thy will be done, only desert me +not.'"</p> + +<p>She determines "at last to be more prompt in response +to letters and bills. I am now apt to lose sight +of them, to my great inconvenience and that of other +people."</p> + +<p>It was pain to her to destroy even a scrap of paper +that bore writing: the drifts of notes and letters grew +higher and higher among the piles of books, new and +old. The books were not all her own choice. Many a +firstling of verse found its way to her, inscribed with +reverent or loving words by the author. Would Mrs. +Howe send a few lines of appreciation or criticism? +She would; mostly she did. She wrote in the autograph +albums, and on the pieces of silk and cotton +for "autograph quilts": she signed the photographs: +she tried to do everything they asked.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 11.</i> Having hammered at some verses for +General Lee, when I lay down to rest a perfect flood +of rhymes seized me. Nonsense verses for to-morrow's +festival; there seemed to be no end to them. I scrawled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354b" id="Page_354b">[354]</a></span> +some of them down as it was late and dark. Sanborn +to dine—unexpected, but always welcome."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 12.</i> Copied and completed my lines for +the evening. Found a large assemblage of members +and invited guests [of the Authors' Club]; a dais and +chair prepared for me, Colonel Higginson standing on +my right. Many presentations—Gilder and Clyde +Fitch, Owen Wister, Norman Hapgood. Aldrich +[T. B.] took me in to dinner and sat on my right, Hon. +John D. Long on my left; next beyond A. sat Homans +Womans.<a name="FNanchor_149_149" id="FNanchor_149_149"></a><a href="#Footnote_149_149" class="fnanchor">[149]</a> I despaired of making my jingle tell in so +large and unfamiliar a company. At last I took courage +and read it, bad as I thought it. To my surprise, it +told, and created the merriment which had been my +object so far as I had any. My 'Battle Hymn' was +sung finely by a male quartette. Colonel Higginson +and I were praised almost out of our senses. A calendar, +got up with much labor, was presented to each +of us."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 13.</i> To church, to take down my vanity +after last evening's laudations...."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 15.</i> Made a final copy of my lines on +Robert E. Lee,—read them to Rosalind—the last +line drew a tear from each of us, so I concluded that +it would do and sent it.</p> + +<p>"To Tuesday Club, where the effort which I made +to hear speakers tired my head badly. Themes: +'Whether and how to teach Ethics in Public Schools'; +also, 'The English Education Bill.' Socrates having +been mentioned as an exemplar, I suddenly cried out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355b" id="Page_355b">[355]</a></span> +that I thought he did wrong to stay and suffer by +unjust laws and popular superstition. A first-class +American would have got away and would have +fought those people to the bitter death. This fiery +little episode provoked laughter, and several privately +told me they were glad of it."</p> + +<p>"<i>January 25....</i> Read Colonel Higginson's account +of me in the 'Outlook.' Wrote him a note of thanks, +saying that he has written beautifully, with much tact +and kindness. It remains true that he has not much +acquaintance with the serious side of my life and character, +my studies of philosophy, etc. He has described +what he has seen of me and has certainly done it with +skill and with a most kind intention."</p> + +<p>She said of the Colonel's paper, "He does not realize +that my <i>life</i> has been here, the four walls of my +room."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 5....</i> Began a sermon on the text, 'I +saw Satan like lightning fall from heaven.'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 6.</i> Wrote a good bit on the sermon begun +yesterday—the theme attracts me much. If I give +it, I will have Whittier's hymn sung: 'Oh! sometimes +gleams upon our sight—'</p> + +<p>"Wrote to thank Higginson for sending me word +that I am the first woman member of the society of +American Authors...."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 14.</i> Luncheon at 3 Joy Street.... My +seat was between T. W. H. and President Eliot, with +whom I had not spoken in many years. He spoke to +me at once and we shook hands and conversed very +cordially. I had known his father quite well—a lover<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356b" id="Page_356b">[356]</a></span> +of music, who had much to do with the early productions +of Beethoven's Symphonies in Boston, collecting +money in aid of the undertaking. President Eliot made +a good speech for Berea; others followed.... When +my name was called, I had already a good thought to +express."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 18.</i> To N.E.W.C., where Colonel Higginson +and I spoke of Longfellow; I from long and intimate +acquaintance, he from a literary point of view. +He said, I thought rightly, that we are too near him +to be able to judge his merits as a poet; time must test +them."</p> + +<p>"<i>February 27....</i> In evening went with the Jewett +sisters to the celebration of Longfellow's Centennial. +I had copied my verses written for the first Authors' +Reading <i>in re</i> Longfellow, rather hoping that I might +be invited to read them. This did not happen. I had +had no reason to suppose that it would, not having +been thereunto invited. Had a seat on the platform +among the poet's friends, myself one of the oldest of +them. It seemed as if I could hardly hold my tongue, +which, however, I did. I remembered that God has +given me many opportunities of speaking my thoughts. +If He withheld this one I am bound to suppose it was +for the best. I sat on the platform, where Sarah Jewett +and I were the only women in the charmed circle.</p> + +<p>"Item. The audience rose and greeted me as I +ascended to the platform at Sanders Theatre."</p> + +<p>She could not bear to be "left out"; indeed, she +rarely was. In this one respect she was, perhaps, the +"spoiled child" that she sometimes called herself.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357b" id="Page_357b">[357]</a></span>March brought a new pleasure, in seeing and meeting +Novelli, the great Italian actor.</p> + +<p>"<i>March 14.</i> The banquet of the Circolo at Lombardy +Inn.... My seat was at the head of the table with +Novelli on my right and Tosti, the consul, on my left. +Had some pleasant talk with each. Then I had a good +inspiration for part of my speech, in which I mentioned +the egg used by Columbus, and made to stand, +to show that things held to be impossible often proved +possible. I said that out of this egg 'was hatched the +American Eagle.' Madame Novelli shed tears at this, +and Novelli kissed my hand. The Italian servants listened +eagerly to all the speaking, and participated in +the applause. President Geddes, Secretary Jocelyn, +and others spoke well and rather briefly. Dear Padre +Roberto was really eloquent."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 16....</i> In the evening to see Novelli in +'Morte Civile'; his personation wonderfully fine, surpassing +even Salvini in the part...."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 17....</i> Went to South Boston to say a +word at the presentation of dear Michael's portrait to +the Perkins Institution by the Howe Memorial Club.... +Also had a wonderful fit of verse—wrote two +sonnets to Dante and a versification of my conceit +about the hatching of the American Eagle from the +egg of Columbus."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 23.</i> A 'boot-and-saddle' day.... I found +that my Authors' Club will meet to-day in Cambridge. +Higginson telephoned, asking me to speak of Aldrich; +I asked permission to leave the College Club after the +speaking. Ordered a carriage at 4.30, sprang into it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358b" id="Page_358b">[358]</a></span> +and reached the Authors' meeting in good time to say +something about Aldrich.... Found a man who has +studied the Berber races in Africa. Had a good talk +with him. Came home dreadfully tired. To bed by +9.30. At the College Club I said that to give women +the vote in this State would not double the illiterate +vote—proposed a census of comparative illiteracy of +the sexes in Massachusetts at least."</p> + +<p><br />We had long besought her to have her musical +compositions written down, and now this was done in +part. Once or twice a week Mr. John M. Loud came +to the house and took down her melodies, she singing +and playing them to him. She always enjoyed the +hour with the young composer. A number of the +melodies thus preserved were published in a "Song +Album" by G. Schirmer some months later.</p> + +<p>"<i>April 8.</i> Great trouble of mind about attending the +Peace Convention in New York, which I have promised +to do. Laura dead against it, reinforced by Wesselhoeft, +Sr., who pronounces it dangerous for me. I at +last wrote to ask my dear minister about it."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 9....</i> A violent snowstorm keeps me at +home. Minister and wife write, 'Don't go to Peace +Convention.' I asked God in my prayer this morning +to make going possible or impossible for me. I took +C. G. A.'s letter as making it impossible, as I had +decided to abide by his decision. Wrote a letter of explanation +to Anna Garlin Spencer. I am much disappointed, +but it is a relief not to cause Laura such painful +anxiety as she would have felt if I had decided to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359b" id="Page_359b">[359]</a></span> +go. She wept with joy when I gave it up. We had a +very pleasant dinner party for the Barrett Wendells +with their friends, Professor Ames, of Berkeley University, +California, 'Waddy' Longfellow, Charles Gibson, +Laura, Betty, and I."</p> + +<p>She sent a letter to the Convention, which was read +by Florence. In this, after recalling her Peace Crusade +of 1872, she said:—</p> + +<p>"Here and there, a sisterly voice responded to my +appeal, but the greater number said: 'We have neither +time nor money that we can call our own. We cannot +travel, we cannot meet together.' And so my intended +Peace Congress of Women melted away like a dream, +and my final meeting, held in the world's great metropolis, +did not promise to lead to any important result.</p> + +<p>"What has made the difference between that time +and this? New things, so far as women are concerned, +viz.: the higher education conceded to them, and the +discipline of associated action, with which later years +have made them familiar. Who shall say how great an +element of progress has existed in this last clause? +Who shall say what fretting of personal ambition has +become merged in the higher ideal of service to the +State and to the world? The noble army of women +which I saw as a dream, and to which I made my appeal, +has now come into being. On the wide field where +the world's great citizens band together to uphold the +highest interests of society, women of the same type +employ their gifts and graces to the same end. Oh, +happy change! Oh, glorious metamorphosis! In less +than half a century the conscience of mankind has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360b" id="Page_360b">[360]</a></span> +made its greatest stride toward the control of human +affairs. The women's colleges and the women's clubs +have had everything to do with the great advance +which we see in the moral efficiency of our sex. These +two agencies have been derided and decried, but they +have done their work.</p> + +<p>"If a word of elderly counsel may become me at +this moment, let me say to the women here assembled: +Do not let us go back from what we have gained. Let +us, on the contrary, press ever forward in the light of +the new knowledge, of the new experience. If we have +rocked the cradle, if we have soothed the slumbers of +mankind, let us be on hand at their great awakening +to make steadfast the peace of the world!"</p> + +<p>She was glad afterward that she had not gone; +but a significant corollary to the matter appears on +April 25:—</p> + +<p>"Providence—a pleasant trip, made possible by +dear Laura's departure."</p> + +<p>(That is, "dear Laura" knew nothing about it till +afterward. How often we recalled the old Quaker's +saying to her, "It was borne in upon me at an early +period that if I told no one what I intended to do, I +should be enabled to do it!")</p> + +<p>In the last week of April ("dear Laura" being still +absent) she spoke four times in public, on four successive +days. These addresses were at the Kindergarten +for the Blind ("I missed the snap which Michael's +presence was wont to give; I spoke praise of him to +the children, as one to be held in dear remembrance; +to the visitors, as having left the public a sacred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361b" id="Page_361b">[361]</a></span> +legacy in these schools, which he created with so much +labor"), at Faneuil Hall, a meeting about Old Home +Week, at the West Newton High School, and at Providence. +On the fifth day she was at the Wintergreen +Club, answering the question, "What is the Greatest +Evil of the Present Day?"—"False estimates of +values, vehement striving for what hinders rather than +helps our spiritual development."</p> + +<p>After this bout she was glad to rest a day or two, +but in another week was ready for the Woman Suffrage +Festival. "I to open it, evening, Faneuil Hall. A day +of rushing. Lady Mary and Professor Gilbert Murray +to breakfast 9 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, which I much enjoyed. Then my +little music man, who took three tunes; then a snatch +at preparation for the evening's exercises. Jack and +Elizabeth Chapman in the afternoon. At 4.45 got a +little rest and sleep. At 5.40 drove to Faneuil Hall, +which I found not so full as sometimes. Thought miserably +of my speech. Light to read it very dim. I +called to order, introduced Mr. White and the ladies' +quartette, then read my poor little scribble.... I was +thankful to get through my part, and my speech in +print wasn't bad at all."</p> + +<p>In May she preached at the Church of the Disciples.</p> + +<p>"A culmination of anxiety for this day, desired +and yet dreaded. My head growled a little at waking, +but not badly. My voice seemed all right, but how +about the matter of my sermon? Was it all worth +while, and on Whitsunday too? I wore my white cashmere +dress. Laura went with me to church. C. G. A. +was there. As he led me to the pulpit, the congregation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362b" id="Page_362b">[362]</a></span> +rose. The service was very congenial and calming to +my anxiety. I read the sermon quite audibly from +beginning to end. It was listened to with profound +attention, if I may say so."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 20....</i> Marion Crawford arrived soon after +three for a little visit. He looks greatly improved in +health since I last saw him. He must have passed +through some crisis and come out conqueror. He has +all his old charm...."</p> + +<p>She was lamenting the death of her cousin and childhood +playfellow, Dr. Valentine Mott Francis, when +"a much greater affliction" fell upon her in the death +of her son-in-law, David Prescott Hall. "This hurts +me," she writes, "like a physical pain."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Florence</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, July 3, 1907. +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest dear Flossy</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p>You are quite right in saying that we greatly need +the consoling belief in a future life to help us bear the +painful separation which death brings. Surely, the +dear Christ believed in immortality, and promised it +to faithful souls. I have myself derived great comfort +from this belief, although I must confess that I know +nothing about it. You may remember what [Downer] +said to your dear father: "I don't know anything about +it, but Jesus Christ certainly believed in immortality, +and I pin my faith on him, and <i>run for luck</i>."... Alice +and her trio of babes came safe to hand this morning. +Frances at once began to spread the gravel from outdoors +on the best staircase, but desisted when forbidden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363b" id="Page_363b">[363]</a></span> +to do so.... Farewell, dearest child. You have +had a grievous loss, and will feel it more and more. +We must trust in God, and take our sorrows believing +in the loving fatherhood. Maud writes me that she +suffers an <i>irreparable</i> loss in dear David's death....</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Your loving<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mother</span>. +</div></blockquote> + +<p><br />Much work was on hand this summer: a poem for +Old Home Week in Boston, another for the Cooperstown +Centennial, a paper on the "Elegant Literature +of Fifty Years Since," one for the "Delineator" on +"The Three Greatest Men I Have Known." These +were Ralph Waldo Emerson, Theodore Parker, and +Dr. Howe. She spent much time and pains on this +article. She read Elliot Cabot's "Life of Emerson," +which she thought "certainly a good piece of work, +but deficient, it seems to me, in the romantic sympathy +which is the true interpretation of Emerson and of all +his kind."</p> + +<p>She "hammered" hard on the two poems, with good +results.</p> + +<p>"<i>July 14.</i> I can hardly believe it, but my miserable +verses, re-read to-day, seemed quite possible, if I can +have grace to fill out their sketchiness. Last word ton-ight: +I think I have got a poem. <i>Nil desperandum!</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>July 24.</i> Difficult to exaggerate the record of my +worry this morning. I feel a painful uncertainty about +going to Boston to read my poem for Old Home +Week. Worse than this is my trouble about two +poems sent me while in Boston, with original music,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364b" id="Page_364b">[364]</a></span> +to be presented to the committee for Home Week, +which I have entirely forgotten and neglected. To do +this was far from my intention, but my old head fairly +gave out in the confusion of the various occasions in +which I was obliged to take an active part."</p> + +<p>She yielded to entreaty and stayed at home, and +was rewarded by "a most gratifying letter from Edward +Everett Hale, telling me that Josiah Quincy read +my poem with real feeling, and that it was warmly +received."</p> + +<p>"My prayer is answered. I have lived to see my +dear girl again.... I give thanks earnestly and heartily, +but seem for a time paralyzed by her presence."</p> + +<p>With the early autumn came a great pleasure in a +visit to the new "Green Peace," the house which her +son had built at Bedford Hills, New York. She was +delighted with the house and garden; the Journal tells +of all manner of pleasant gayeties.</p> + +<p>"<i>September 12.</i> Fannie had a luncheon party even +pleasanter than yesterday's. Rev. Mr. Luquer is a +grandson of Dominick Lynch, who used to come to my +father's house in my childhood and break my heart by +singing 'Lord Ullin's Daughter.' I remember creeping +under the piano once to hide my tears. He sang all the +Moore melodies with great expression.... This, his +descendant, looks a good deal like him. Was bred a +lawyer. My good Uncle Cutler twice asked him +whether he would study for the ministry. He said, +'No.' My uncle said the second time, 'What shall it +profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his +own soul?' This word, he told me, came back to him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365b" id="Page_365b">[365]</a></span> +... Worked a good deal on my poem. At least thought +and thought much, and altered a little."</p> + +<p>This was the poem which prefaces this chapter and +which was written for the forthcoming Unitarian Convention +in Boston. She had been at work on it for +some time, first "<i>trying to try for it</i>," and later "hammering" +and polishing with great care. "It came to +me like a flash," she says, "but had to be much thought +over and corrected." And again, "It was given to +me something as was my 'Battle Hymn.'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>October 25.</i> Wrote to a very bumptious child, +thirteen years old, who proffers me her friendship and +correspondence, claiming to have written poems and +magazine contributions praised by 'noted authors.' +I sent her back her letter, with three or four corrections +and a little advice, kindly meant, but which may not +be so taken.... She will probably turn and rend me, +but I really felt it might do her good."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 14. Gardiner.</i> A good meditation. The +sense of God in the universe seems to be an attribute +of normal humanity. We cannot think of our own +personal identity without at the same time imagining +a greater self from which we derive. This idea may be +crude and barbarous, great minds have done much to +make it otherwise; Christ most of all with His doctrine +of divine love, providence, and forgiveness. The idea +of a life beyond this one seems also to appertain to +normal humanity. We had best accept this great endowment +which philosophy seeks to analyze much as +a boy will take a watch to pieces, but cannot put it +together again so that it will work."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366b" id="Page_366b">[366]</a></span>"<i>November 15.</i> Another long sitting and meditation. +What have individual philosophers done for religion? +As I recall what I could learn of the Kantian philosophy, +I think that it principally taught the limitations +of human knowledge, correcting thereby the assumptions +of systems of thought and belief to <i>absolute</i> authority +over the thinker and believer. He calls conscience +'the categorical imperative'; but that term in +no wise explains either the origin or authority of the +moral law. His rule of testing the rectitude of the act +by the way in which, if it were made universal, it would +affect the well-being of society, is useful, but simply +pragmatic, not in William James's sense. The German +idealism, the theory by which we evolve or create all +that occupies our senses and our mind, appears to me +a monstrous expanse of egotism. No doubt, dialectics +serve as mental athletics, and speculative thought may +be useful as an exercise of the mental powers; but processes +which may be useful in this way might be very +unfit to be held as permanent possessions of persuasion. +It occurs to me that it might be more blessed to +help the souls in hell than to luxuriate with saints in +heaven."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 20. Boston.</i> Began my screed on the +'Joys of Motherhood' for the 'Delineator.' Wrote +<i>currente calamo</i>...."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 23.</i> Rather an off day. Found T. W. +Higginson's little volume of verses, presented to me +on my seventieth birthday, and read a good deal in it. +When the Colonel gave it to me, he read a little poem, +'Sixty and Six,' very charmingly. Seems to me that I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367b" id="Page_367b">[367]</a></span> +ought to have read this little book through long before +this time. One of the sweetest poems in it is about +the blue-eyed baby that they lost after some six weeks' +happy possession. I sent a pretty little baby wreath +for it, feeling very sorry for them both."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 28.</i> Much troubled about my Whittier +poem."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 3.</i> Thanks be to God! I have written +my Whittier rhyme. It has cost me much labor, for I +have felt that I could not treat a memory so reverend +with cheap and easy verses. I have tried to take his +measure, and to present a picture of him which shall +deserve to live."<a name="FNanchor_150_150" id="FNanchor_150_150"></a><a href="#Footnote_150_150" class="fnanchor">[150]</a></p> + + +<p><br />Mr. and Mrs. Cobden-Sanderson, the English suffragists, +were in Boston this winter. They dined with +her, and proved "very agreeable. Mrs. Sanderson's +visit ought to help suffrage mightily, she is in such +dead earnest for it. After dinner I proposed that +each one should name his favorite Browning poem. +I named 'Pippa,' Mrs. Sanderson 'Paracelsus,' Mr. S., +'The Grammarian's Funeral,' etc., etc. The talk was +so good that we could not stop it to hear the Victor, +which I regretted."</p> + +<p>Another delightful dinner of this winter was one +given in her honor by her niece, Mrs. Richard Aldrich +(Margaret Chanler), in New York. Among the guests +were Kneisel, the violinist, and Schelling, the pianist. +Mrs. Aldrich demanded "Flibbertigibbet," and our +mother played and recited it in such a manner that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368b" id="Page_368b">[368]</a></span> +two musicians were inspired to play, as the people in +the story were to dance. Kneisel flew home for his +violin, Schelling sat down at the piano, and the two +played Bach for her and to her delight.</p> + +<p>"The occasion was memorable!" she says.</p> + +<p>Returning from New York, she was able to attend +the Whittier Centennial at Haverhill.</p> + +<p>"<i>December 17.</i> ... Sanborn came to take me.... I +have been praying to be well for this occasion, my +last public engagement for some weeks. I am thankful +to have been able, at my advanced age, to read this +poem at the Whittier Celebration and to be assured +by one present that I had never been in better voice, +and by others that I was generally heard without difficulty +by the large audience."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 31.</i> Oh, blessed year 1907! It has been +granted me to write four poems for public occasions, +all of which have proved acceptable; also three fatiguing +magazine articles, which have for the time +bettered my finances. I have lived in peace and goodwill +with all men, and in great contentment with my +own family, to which this year added a promising +little great-grandson, taking away, alas! my dear son-in-law, +David Prescott Hall. I found a very competent +and friendly young musician who has taken down +nearly all my songs.... A word was given me to +speak, namely, 'Thanks for the blessed, wonderful +year just past.'"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369b" id="Page_369b">[369]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>"MINE EYES HAVE SEEN THE GLORY OF THE COMING +OF THE LORD"</h3> + +<h4>1908-1910; <i>aet.</i> 89-91</h4> + +<p> +I have made a voyage upon a golden river,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Neath clouds of opal and of amethyst.</span><br /> +Along its banks bright shapes were moving ever,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And threatening shadows melted into mist.</span><br /> +<br /> +The eye, unpractised, sometimes lost the current,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When some wild rapid of the tide did whirl,</span><br /> +While yet a master hand beyond the torrent<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Freed my frail shallop from the perilous swirl.</span><br /> +<br /> +Music went with me, fairy flute and viol,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The utterance of fancies half expressed,</span><br /> +And with these, steadfast, beyond pause or trial,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The deep, majestic throb of Nature's breast.</span><br /> +<br /> +My journey nears its close—in some still haven<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My bark shall find its anchorage of rest,</span><br /> +When the kind hand, which ever good has given,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Opening with wider grace, shall give the best.</span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J. W. H.</span> +</p> + + +<p><br />The grandchildren were her chief playmates when +Maud was in Europe. To them, the grave tone of the +Journal, the tale of her public work, is almost unbelievable, +recalling, as they do, the household life, so +warm, so rich, so intimate, it seemed enough in itself +to fill the cup to overflowing. She had said of herself +that in social activities she "bled at every pore": but +in these later years it was light and warmth that she +shed around her, kindling whatever she touched. At +her fire, as at Uncle Sam's, we warmed our hands and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370b" id="Page_370b">[370]</a></span> +our hearts. When she entered a room, all faces lighted +up, as if she carried a lamp in her hand.</p> + +<p>Day in, day out, she was the <i>Guter Camerad</i>. The +desire <i>not to irritate</i> had become so much a second +nature that she was the easiest person in the world to +live with. If the domestic calm were disturbed, "<i>Don't +say anything!</i>" was her word. "<i>Wait a little!</i>"</p> + +<p>She might wake with the deep depression so often +mentioned in the Journal. Pausing at her door to +listen, one might hear a deep sigh, a plaintive ejaculation; +but all this was put out of sight before she left +her room, and she came down, as one of the grandchildren +put it, "bubbling like a silver tea-kettle."</p> + +<p>Then came the daily festival of breakfast, never to +be hurried or "scamped." The talk, the letters, some +of which we might read to her, together with the +newspaper. We see her pressing some tidbit on a child, +watching intently the eating of it, then, as the last +mouthful disappeared, exclaiming with tragic emphasis, +"<i>I wanted it!</i>" Then, at the startled face, would +come peals of laughter; she would throw herself back +in her chair, cover her face with her hands, and tap +the floor with her feet.</p> + +<p>"Look at her!" cried Maud. "<i>Rippling with sin!</i>"</p> + +<p>How she loved to laugh!</p> + +<p>"One day," says a granddaughter, "the house was +overflowing with guests, and she asked me to take my +nap on her sofa, while she took hers on the bed. We +both lay down in peace and tranquillity, but after a +while, when she thought I was asleep, I heard her +laughing, until she almost wept. Presently she fell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371b" id="Page_371b">[371]</a></span> +asleep, and slept her usual twenty minutes, to wake +in the same gales of mirth. She laughed until the bed +shook, but softly, trying to choke her laughter, lest I +should wake.</p> + +<p>"'What is it about?' I asked. 'What is so wonderful +and funny?'</p> + +<p>"'Oh, my dear,' she said, breaking again into +laughter, 'it is nothing! It is the most ridiculous +thing! I was only trying to translate "fiddle-de-dee" +into Greek!'"</p> + +<p>This was in her ninety-second year.</p> + +<p>But we are still at the breakfast table. Sometimes +there were guests at breakfast, a famous actor, a travelling +scholar, caught between other engagements for +this one leisure hour.</p> + +<p>It was a good deal, perhaps, to ask people to leave +a warm hotel on a January morning; but it was +warm enough by the soft-coal blaze of the dining-room +fire. Over the coffee and rolls, sausages and +buckwheat cakes, leisure reigned supreme; not the +poet's "retired leisure," but a friendly and laughter-loving +deity. Everybody was full of engagements, +harried with work, pursued by business and pleasure: +no matter! the talk ranged high and far, and the +morning was half gone before they separated.</p> + +<p>Soon after breakfast came the game of ball, played +<i>à deux</i> with daughter or grandchild; the ball was tossed +back and forth, the players counting meanwhile up to +ten in various languages. She delighted in adding to her +vocabulary of numerals, and it was a good day when +she mastered those of the Kutch-Kutch Esquimaux.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372b" id="Page_372b">[372]</a></span>Then came the walk, gallantly taken in every +weather save the very worst. She battled with the +west wind, getting the matter over as quickly as might +be. "<i>It is for my life!</i>" she would say. But on quiet, +sunny days she loved to linger along Commonwealth +Avenue, watching the parade of babies and little children, +stopping to admire this one or chat with that.</p> + +<p>This function accomplished, she went straight to +her desk, and "P. T." reigned till noon. It was a less +rigorous "P. T." than that of our childhood. She could +break off in a moment now, give herself entirely, joyously, +to the question of dinner for the expected guest, +of dress for the afternoon reception, then drop back +into Aristotle or Æschylus with a happy sigh. It was +less easy to break off when she was writing; we might +be begged for "half a moment," as if our time were +fully as precious as her own; but there was none of the +distress that interruption brought in earlier years. +Perhaps she took her writing less seriously. She often +said, "Oh, my dear, I am beginning to realize at last +that I shall never write my book now, my Magnum +Opus, that was to be so great!"</p> + +<p>She practised her scales faithfully every day, +through the later years. Then she would play snatches +of forgotten operas, and the granddaughter would hear +her—if she thought no one was near—singing the +brilliant <i>arias</i> in "a sweet thread of a voice."</p> + +<p>After her practising, if she were alone, she would sit +at the window and play her Twilight Game: counting +the "passing," one for a biped, two for a quadruped, +ten for a white horse, and so on.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373b" id="Page_373b">[373]</a></span>In the evening, before the "Victor" concert, came the +reading aloud: this was one of her great pleasures. +No history or philosophy for the evening reading; she +must have a novel (not a "problem novel"; these she +detested!)—a good stirring tale, with plenty of action +in it. She thrilled over "With Fire and Sword," +"Kim," "The Master of Ballantrae." She could not +bear to hear of financial anxieties or of physical suffering. +"It gives me a pain in my knee!"</p> + +<p>We see her now, sitting a little forward in her +straight-backed chair, holding the hand of the reading +granddaughter, alert and tense. When a catastrophe +appears imminent, "Stop a minute!" she cries. "I +cannot bear it!"—and the reader must pause while +she gathers courage to face disaster with the hero, +or dash with him through peril to safety.</p> + +<p>She would almost be sorry when the doorbell announced +a visitor; almost, not quite, for flesh and +blood were better than fiction. If the caller were a +familiar friend, how her face lighted up!</p> + +<p>"Oh! now we can have whist!"</p> + +<p>The table is brought out, the mother-of-pearl counters +(a Cutler relic: we remember that Mr. Ward did +not allow cards in his house!), and the order for the +rest of the evening is "A clear fire, a clean hearth, and +the rigor of the game!"—</p> + +<p>It was a happy day when, as chanced once or +twice, Mr. Ernest Schelling, coming on from New +York to play with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, +offered to come and play to her, "all by herself, whatever +she wanted, and for as long as she liked." She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374b" id="Page_374b">[374]</a></span> +never forgot this pleasure, nor the warm kindness of +the giver.</p> + +<p>One day Mr. Abel Lefranc, the French lecturer of +the year at Harvard, came to lunch with her. He +apologized for only being able to stay for the luncheon +hour, owing to a press of engagements and work that +had grown overpowering. He stayed for two hours and +a half after luncheon was over, and during all that +time the flow of poignant, brilliant talk, <i>à deux</i>, held +the third in the little company absorbed. She was +entirely at home in French, and the Frenchman talked +over the problems of his country as if to a compatriot.</p> + +<p>A few days afterwards a Baptist minister from +Texas, a powerfully built and handsome man, came +to wait on her. He also stayed two hours: and we +heard his "Amen!" and "Bless the Lord for that!" +and her gentler "Bless the Lord, indeed, my brother!" +as their voices, fervent and grave, mingled in talk.</p> + +<p>She never tried to be interested in people. She <i>was</i> +interested, with every fibre of her being. Little household +doings: the economies and efforts of brave young +people, she thrilled to them all. Indeed, all <i>human +facts</i> roused in her the same absorbed and reverent +interest.</p> + +<p>These are Boston memories, but those of Oak Glen +are no less tender and vivid. There, too, the meals +were festivals, the midday dinner being now the chief +one, with its following hour on the piazza; "Grandmother" +in her hooded chair, with her cross-stitch +embroidery or "hooked" rug, daughters and grandchildren +gathered round her. Horace and Xenophon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375b" id="Page_375b">[375]</a></span> +were on the little table beside her, but they must wait +till she had mixed and enjoyed her "social salad."</p> + +<p>At Oak Glen, too, she had her novel and her whist, +bézique or dominoes, as the family was larger or +smaller. She never stooped to solitaire; a game must +be an affair of companionship, of the "social tie" in +defence of which "Bro' Sam," in his youth, had professed +himself ready to die. Instead of the "Victor" +concert, she now made music herself, playing four-hand +pieces with Florence, the "music daughter," +trained in childhood by Otto Dresel. This was another +great pleasure. (Did any one, we wonder, ever <i>enjoy</i> +pleasures as she did?) These duets were for the afternoon; +she almost never used her eyes in the evening. +They were perfectly good, strong eyes; in the latter +years she rarely used glasses; but the habit dated back +to the early fifties, and might not be shaken.</p> + +<p>We see her, therefore, in the summer afternoons, +sitting at the piano with Florence, playing, "Galatea, +dry thy tears!" "Handel's old tie-wig music," as she +called his operas. Or, if her son were there, she would +play accompaniments from the "Messiah" or "Elijah"; +rippling through the difficult music, transposing +it, if necessary to suit the singer's voice, with ease and +accuracy. Musicians said that she was the ideal accompanist, +never asserting herself, but giving perfect +sympathy and support to the singer.</p> + +<p>We return to the Journal.</p> + +<p>"<i>January, 1908.</i> I had prayed the dear Father to +give me this one more poem, a verse for this year's +Decoration Day, asked for by Amos Wells, of Christian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376b" id="Page_376b">[376]</a></span> +Endeavor belonging. I took my pen and the +poem came quite spontaneously. It seemed an answer +to my prayer, but I hold fast the thought that the +great Christ asked <i>no sign</i> from God and needed none, +so deeply did he enter into life divine. I also thought, +regarding Christ and Moses, that we must be content +that a certain mystery should envelop these heroic +figures of human history. Our small measuring tape +or rod is not for them. If they were not exactly in fact +what we take them to be, let us deeply reverence the +human mind which has conceived and built up such +splendid and immortal ideals. Was not Christ thinking +of something like this when he made the sin against +the Holy Ghost and its manifestations the only unpardonable +error? He surely did not mean to say that +it was beyond the repentance which is the earnest of +forgiveness to every sin."</p> + +<p>A day or two after this she met at luncheon "a +young Reverend Mr. Fitch.... He is earnest and +clear-minded, and should do much good. I spoke of +the cup [of life], but advised him to use the spoon for +stirring up his congregation."</p> + +<p>She was asked for a "long and exhaustive paper on +Marion Crawford in about a week. I wrote, saying that +I could furnish an interesting paper on the elder and +younger Crawford, but without any literary estimate +of Marion's work, saying that family praise was too +much akin to self-praise; also the time allotted much +too short."</p> + +<p>One night she woke "suddenly and something +seemed to say, 'They are on the right tack now.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377b" id="Page_377b">[377]</a></span> +This microscopic and detailed study of the causes of +evil on society will be much forwarded by the direct +agency of women. They too will supply that inexhaustible +element of hopefulness, without which reforms +are a mere working back and forth of machinery. +These two things will overcome the evil of the world +by prevention first, and then by the optimistic anticipation +of good. This is a great work given to +Woman now to do. Then I caught at various couplets +of a possible millennial poem, but feared I +should not write it. Have scrawled these on a large +pad. This line kept coming back to me, 'Living, not +dying, Christ redeemed mankind.'... This my first +day at my desk since Saturday, March 28. I may try +some prose about the present patient analysis of the +evil of society, the patient intelligent women associated +in all this work. To reclaim waste earth is a glory. +Why not a greater to reclaim the moral wastes of +humanity?"</p> + +<p>This midnight vision impressed her deeply, and +through the succeeding days she wrote it out in full, +bit by bit. On the envelope containing it is written, +"An account of my vision of the world regenerated +by the combined labor and love of Men and Women." +In it she saw "men and women of every clime +working like bees to unwrap the evils of society and +to discover the whole web of vice and misery and +to apply the remedies, and also to find the influences +that should best counteract the evil and its attendant +suffering.</p> + +<p>"There seemed to be a new, a wondrous, ever-permeating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378b" id="Page_378b">[378]</a></span> +light, the glory of which I cannot attempt +to put into human words—the light of the newborn +hope and sympathy—blazing. The source of this +light was born of human endeavor...."</p> + +<p>She saw "the men and the women, standing side +by side, shoulder to shoulder, a common lofty and indomitable +purpose lighting every face with a glory +not of this earth. All were advancing with one end +in view, one foe to trample, one everlasting goal to +gain....</p> + +<p>"And then I saw the victory. All of evil was gone +from the earth. Misery was blotted out. Mankind +was emancipated and ready to march forward in a +new Era of human understanding, all-encompassing +sympathy and ever-present help, the Era of perfect +love, of peace passing understanding."</p> + + +<p><br />Mrs. Humphry Ward was in Boston this spring, and +there were many pleasant festivities in her honor.</p> + +<p>A "luncheon with Mrs. Humphry Ward at Annie +Fields'; very pleasant. Edward Emerson there, easy +and delightful...."</p> + +<p>A fine reception at the Vendôme, where she and +Mrs. Ward stood under "a beautiful arch of roses" +and exchanged greetings.</p> + +<p>"A delightful call from Mrs. Humphry Ward. We +had much talk of persons admired in England and +America. She has great personal attraction, is not +handsome, but very '<i>simpatica</i>' and is evidently whole-souled +and sincere, with much 'good-fellowship.' We +embraced at parting."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379b" id="Page_379b">[379]</a></span>In strong contrast to this is her comment on a +writer whose work did not appeal to her. "But she +has merit; yes, she certainly has merit. In fact—" +with a flash—"she is meret-ricious!"</p> + +<p>May brought the Free Religious Banquet, at which +she "compared the difference of sect to the rainbow +which divides into its beauty the white light of truth"; +and the State Federation of Women's Clubs, where +another apt comparison occurred to her.</p> + +<p>"I compared the old order among women to the +juxtaposition of squares set cornerwise to each other; +the intensity of personal feeling and interest infusing +an insensible antagonism into our relations with each +other. 'Now,' I said, 'the comparison being removed, +we no longer stand cornerwise to each other, but so +that we can fit into line, and stand and act in concert.'..."</p> + +<p>"<i>Newport.</i> I begin to feel something of the 'labor +and sorrow' of living so long. I don't even enjoy my +books as I used to. My efforts to find a fit word for +the Biennial [of the General Federation of Women's +Clubs, to meet in Boston, June 22 and 23] are not +successful...."</p> + +<p>She soon revived under her green trees, and enjoyed +her books as much as ever: "got hold of" her +screed, wrote it, went up to Boston to deliver it, came +back to meet an excursion party of "Biennial" ladies +visiting Newport. (N.B. She was late for the reception, +and her neighbor, Bradford Norman, drove her +into Newport in his automobile "at a terrific clip." +On alighting, "Braddie," she said, "if I were ten years<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380b" id="Page_380b">[380]</a></span> +younger, I would set up one of these hell-wagons myself!")</p> + +<p>She enjoyed all this hugely, but the fatigue was followed +by distress so great that the next morning she +"thought she should die with her door locked." (She +<i>would</i> lock her door: no prayers of ours availed against +this. In Boston, an elaborate arrangement of keys +made it possible for her room to be entered; at Oak +Glen there was but the one stout door. On this occasion, +after lying helpless and despairing for some time, +she managed to unlock the door and call the faithful +maid.)</p> + +<p>On June 30 she writes:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, beautiful last day of June! Perhaps my last +June on earth.... I shall be thankful to live as long +as I can be of comfort or help to any one...."</p> + +<p>"<i>July 12....</i> Sherman to Corse [Civil War], 'Can +you hold out till I arrive?' Corse to Sherman, 'I have +lost an arm, my cheekbone, and am minus one ear, +but I can lick <i>all hell</i> yet.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>July 30.</i> Have felt so much energy to-day that +thought I must begin upon my old philosophizing +essays.... Could find only 'Duality of Character.' +What is the lesson of this two-foldness? This, that the +most excellent person should remember the dual member +of his or her firm, the evil possibility; and the most +persistent offender should also remember the better +personality which is bound up with its opposite, and +which can come into activity, if invited to do so."</p> + +<p>"<i>August 28.</i> Wrote an immediate reply to a Mrs. +——, who had written to ask leave to use a part<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381b" id="Page_381b">[381]</a></span> +of my 'Battle Hymn' with some verses of her own. +I replied, refusing this permission, but saying that +she should rewrite her own part sufficiently to leave +mine out, and should not call it the 'Battle Hymn +of the Republic.' The metre and tune, of course, +she might use, as they are not mine in any special +sense, but my phrases <i>not</i>."</p> + +<p>After writing an article for the "Delineator," on +"What I should like to give my Country for a Christmas +Gift," she dreads a failure of her productive +power, but is reassured by Maud's verdict. "I took +much pains with it, but think she overpraises it a little +to raise my spirits." The gift she would choose was +"a more vigilant national conscience." The little essay +counts but seventy lines, but every word tells.</p> + +<p>In early September she performed a "very small +public service," unveiling in Newport a bronze tablet +in honor of Count de Rochambeau. She would have +been glad to speak, but an anxious daughter had +demurred, and at the moment she "only thought of +pulling the string the right way."</p> + +<p>"<i>September 21. Green Peace, New York.</i> A delightful +drive with Mr. Seth Low in his auto. A good talk with +him about the multi-millionnaires and the Hague Conferences +which he has attended. We reached Green +Peace in time for Mr. Frank Potter to sing about half +of my songs. He has a fine tenor voice, well cultivated, +and is very kind about my small compositions. I had +not counted upon this pleasure. I dreaded this visit, for +the troublesome journey, but it has been delightful. +I am charmed to see my son so handsomely and comfortably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382b" id="Page_382b">[382]</a></span> +established, and with a very devoted wife. +Potter brought me some flowers and a curious orchid +from Panama."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 3. Oak Glen.</i> Yesterday and to-day have +had most exquisite sittings in front of my house in the +warm sunshine; very closely wrapped up by the dear +care of my daughters."</p> + +<p>These sittings were on what she called her boulevard, +a grassy space in front of the house, bordering on the +road, and taking the full strength of the morning sun. +Here, with the tall screen of cedars behind her, and a +nut tree spreading its golden canopy over her head, she +would sit for hours, drinking in the sweet air that was +like no other to her.</p> + +<p>A companion picture to this is that of the twilight +hour, when she would sit alone in the long parlor, +looking out on the sunset. Black against the glowing +sky rose the pines of the tiny forgotten graveyard, +where long-ago neighbors slept, with the white rose +tree drooping over the little child's grave; a spot of +tender and melancholy beauty. All about were the +fields she loved, fragrant with clover and wormwood, +vocal with time-keeping crickets. Here she would sit +for an hour, meditating, or repeating to herself the +Odes of Horace, or some familiar hymn. Horace was +one of her best friends, all her life long. She knew +many of the Odes by heart, and was constantly memorizing +new ones. They filled and brightened many +a sleepless or weary hour. Here, when the children +came back from their walk, they would find her, quiet +and serene, but ready instantly to break into laughter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383b" id="Page_383b">[383]</a></span> +with them, to give herself, as always, entirely and +joyously. Now and then she wrote down a meditation; +here is one:—</p> + +<p>"A thought comes to me to-day which gives me +great comfort. This is that, while the transitory incidentals +of our life, important for the moment, pass out +of it, the steadfast divine life which is in our earthly +experience, perseveres, and can never die nor diminish. +I feel content that much of me should die. I +interpret for myself Christ's parable of the tares sown +in the wheat field. As regards the individual, these +tares are our personal and selfish traits and limitations. +We must restrain and often resist them, but we cannot +and must not seek to eradicate them, for they are +important agents not only in preserving, but also in +energizing our bodily life. Yet they are, compared +with our higher life, as the tares compared with the +wheat, and we must be well content to feel that, when +the death harvest comes, these tares will fall from us +and perish, while the wheat will be gathered into the +granary of God.</p> + +<p>"I do not desire ecstatic, disembodied sainthood, +because I do not wish to abdicate any one of the attributes +of my humanity. I cherish even the infirmities +that bind me to my kind. I would be human, and +American, and a woman. Paul of Tarsus had one or +two ecstasies, but I feel sure that he lived in his humanity, +strenuously and energetically. Indeed, the list +he gives us of his trials and persecutions may show us +how much he lived as a man among men, even though +he did once cry out for deliverance from the body of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384b" id="Page_384b">[384]</a></span> +death, whose wants and pains were a sore hindrance +to him in his unceasing labors. That deliverance he +found daily in the service of Truth, and finally once +for all, when God took him.</p> + +<p>"Another thought upholds me. With the recurrence +of the cycle, I feel the steady tramp and tread of the +world's progress. This Spring is not identical with last +Spring, this year is not last year. The predominant +fact of the Universe is not the mechanical round and +working of its forces, but their advance as moral life +develops out of and above material life. Mysterious +as the chain of causation is, we know one thing about +it, viz.: that we cannot reverse its sequence. Whatever +may change or pass away, my father remains my +father, my child, my child. The way before us is open—the +way behind us is blocked with solid building +which cannot be removed. And in this great onward +order, life turns not back to death, but goes forward +to other life, which we may call immortality. If I +would turn backward, I stand still in paralyzed opposition +to the mighty sweep of heavenly law. It must go +on, and if I could resist and refuse to go with it, I +should die a moral death, having isolated myself from +the movement which is life. But, do what I will, I +cannot resist it. I am carried on perforce, as inanimate +rocks and trees are swept away in the course of a +resistless torrent. Shall I then abdicate my human +privilege which makes the forces of nature Angels to +help and minister to me? Let me, instead, take hold +of the guiding cords of life with resolute hands and +press onward, following the illustrious army whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385b" id="Page_385b">[385]</a></span> +crowned chiefs have gone before. They too had their +weakness, their sorrow, their sin. But they are set +as stars in the firmament of God, and their torches +flash heavenly light upon our doubtful way, ay, even +upon the mysterious bridge whose toll is silence. Beyond +that silence reigns the perfect harmony."</p> + +<p>"<i>November 6.</i> Expecting to leave this dear place +to-morrow before noon, I write one last record in this +diary to say that I am very thankful for the season +just at end, which has been busy and yet restful. I +have seen old friends and new ones, all with pleasure, +and mostly with profit of a social and spiritual kind. +I have seen dear little Eleanor Hall, the sweetest of +babies. Have had all of my dear children with me, +some of my grandchildren, and four of my great-grands.</p> + +<p>"Our Papéterie has had pleasant meetings.... I am +full of hope for the winter. Have had a long season +of fresh air, delightful and very invigorating.... +<i>Utinam! Gott in Himmel sei Dank!</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>November 28. Boston.</i> Have been much troubled +of late by uncertainties about life beyond the present. +Quite suddenly, very recently, it occurred to me to consider +that Christ understood that spiritual life would +not end with death, and that His expressed certainty +as to the future life was founded upon His discernment +of spiritual things. So, in so far as I am a Christian, +I must believe in the immortality of the soul, as our +Master surely did. I cannot understand why I have +not thought of that before. I think now that I shall +nevermore lose sight of it.... Had a very fine call<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386b" id="Page_386b">[386]</a></span> +from Mr. Locke, author of the 'Beloved Vagabond,' +a book which I have enjoyed."</p> + +<p>"<i>December 5....</i> I learned to-day that my dear +friend of many years [the Reverend Mary H. Graves] +passed away last night very peacefully.... This is +a heart sorrow for me. She has been a most faithful, +affectionate and helpful friend. I scarcely know +whether any one, outside of my family, would have +pained me more by their departure...."</p> + +<p>This was indeed a loss. "Saint Mouse," as we +called her, was a familiar friend of the household: +a little gray figure, with the face of a plain angel. +For many years she had been the only person who was +allowed to touch our mother's papers. She often came +for a day or two and straightened out the tangle. She +was the only approach to a secretary ever tolerated.</p> + +<p>We used to grieve because our mother had no first-rate +"Crutch"; it seemed a waste of power. Now, +we see that it was partly the instinct of self-preservation,—keeping +the "doing" muscles tense and strong, +because action was vital and necessary to her—partly +the still deeper instinct of giving her <i>self</i>, body +and mind. She seldom failed in any important thing +she undertook; the "chores" of life she often left for +others to attend to or neglect.</p> + +<p>The Christmas services, the Christmas oratorio, +brought her the usual serene joy and comfort. She +insists that Handel wrote parts of the "Messiah" in +heaven itself. "Where else could he have got 'Comfort +ye,' 'Thy rebuke,' 'Thou shalt break them,' and +much besides?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387b" id="Page_387b">[387]</a></span>Late in December, 1908, came the horror of the +Sicilian earthquake. She felt at first that it was impossible +to reconcile omnipotence and perfect benevolence +with this catastrophe.</p> + +<p>"We must hold judgment in suspense and say, 'We +don't and we can't understand.'"</p> + +<p>She had several tasks on hand this winter, among +them a poem for the Centenary of Lincoln's birth. +On February 7 she writes:—</p> + +<p>"After a time of despair about the poem for the +Lincoln Centenary some lines came to me in the early +morning. I arose, wrapped myself warmly, and wrote +what I could, making quite a beginning."</p> + +<p>She finished the poem next day, and on the 12th +she went "with three handsome grandchildren" to deliver +it at Symphony Hall before the Grand Army of +the Republic and their friends.</p> + +<p>"The police had to make an entrance for us. I was +presently conducted to my seat on the platform. The +hall was crammed to its utmost capacity. I had felt +doubts of the power of my voice to reach so large a +company, but strength seemed to be given to me at +once, and I believe that I was heard very well. T. W. +H. [Colonel Higginson] came to me soon after my +reading and said, 'You have been a good girl and +behaved yourself well.'"</p> + +<p>The next task was an essay on "Immortality," +which cost her much labor and anxious thought.</p> + +<p>"<i>March 3....</i> Got at last some solid ground for +my screed on 'Immortality.' Our experience of the +goodness of God in our daily life assures us of His<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388b" id="Page_388b">[388]</a></span> +mercy hereafter, and seeing God everywhere, we shall +dwell in the house of the Lord forever."</p> + +<p>"<i>March 27.</i> I am succeeding better with my 'Immortality' +paper. Had to-day a little bit of visioning +with which I think that I would willingly depart, when +my time comes. The dreadful fear of being buried +alive disappeared for a time, and I saw only the goodness +of God, to which it seemed that I could trust all +question of the future life. I said to myself—'The +best will be for thee and me.'"</p> + +<p>It was in this mood that she wrote:—</p> + +<p>"I, for one, feel that my indebtedness grows with +my years. And it occurred to me the other day that +when I should depart from this earthly scene, 'God's +poor Debtor' might be the fittest inscription for my +gravestone, if I should have one. So much have I received +from the great Giver, so little have I been able +to return."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 5....</i> Heard May Alden Ward, N.E.W.C., +on 'Current Events.' <i>Praecipuë</i> tariff reform. Proposed +a small group to study the question from the +point of view of the consumer. What to protect and +how? American goods cheaper in Europe than here. +Blank tells me of pencils made here for a foreign market +and sold in Germany and England at a price impossible +here. I said that the real bottomless pit is the depth +of infamous slander with which people will assail our +public servants, especially when they are faithful and +incorruptible, apropos of aspersions cast on Roosevelt +and Taft. Mrs. Ward read a very violent attack upon +some public man of a hundred or more years ago.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389b" id="Page_389b">[389]</a></span> +He was quoted as a monster of tyranny and injustice. +His name was George Washington."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 8....</i> My prayer for this Easter is that I +may not waste the inspiration of spring...."</p> + +<p>In these days came another real sorrow to her.</p> + +<p>"<i>April 10.</i> To-day brings the sad news of Marion +Crawford's death at Sorrento. His departure seems to +have been a peaceful one. He comforted his family +and had his daughter Eleanor read Plato's 'Dialogues' +to him. Was unconscious at the last. Poor dear Marion! +The end, in his case, comes early. His father was, +I think, in the early forties when he died of a cancer +behind the eye which caused blindness. He, Thomas +Crawford, had a long and very distressing illness."</p> + +<p>Crawford had been very dear to her, ever since the +days when, a radiant schoolboy, he came and went in +his vacations. There was a complete sympathy and +understanding between them, and there were few +people whom she enjoyed more.</p> + +<p>"I wrote a letter to be read, if approved, to-morrow +evening at the Faneuil Hall meeting held to advocate +the revision of our extradition treaty with the Russian +Government, which at present seems to allow +that government too much latitude of incrimination, +whereby political and civil offences can too easily +be confused and a revolutionist surrendered as a +criminal, which he may or may not be."</p> + +<p>Later in the month she writes:—</p> + +<p>"In the early morning I began to feel that I must +attempt some sort of tribute to my dear friend of +many years, Dr. Holmes, the centenary of whose birth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390b" id="Page_390b">[390]</a></span> +is to be celebrated on Tuesday next. I stayed at home +from church to follow some random rhymes which +came to me in connection with my remembrance of my +ever affectionate friend. I love to think of his beautiful +service to his age and to future ages. I fear that +my rhymes will fail to crystallize, but sometimes a +bad beginning leads to something better...."</p> + +<p>The poem was finished, more or less to her satisfaction, +but she was weary with working over it, and +with "reading heavy books, Max Müller on metaphysics, +Blanqui on political economy."</p> + +<p>"<i>May 10.</i> I began this day the screed of 'Values' +which I mentioned the other day. I have great hopes +of accomplishing something useful, remembering, as +I do, with sore indignation, my own mistakes, and +desiring to help young people to avoid similar ones."</p> + +<p>The ninetieth birthday was a festival, indeed. Letters +and telegrams poured in, rose in toppling piles +which almost—not quite—daunted her; she would +hear every one, would answer as many as flesh and +blood could compass. Here is one of them:—</p> + + +<blockquote><p><br />Most hearty congratulations on your ninetieth birthday +from the boy you picked up somewhere in New +York and placed in the New York Orphan Asylum on +April 6th, 1841. Sorry I have never been able to meet +you in all that time. You [were] one of the Board of +Trustees at that time.</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Respectfully and Thankfully,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Wm. Davidson.</span> +</div></blockquote> + +<p>I was then about five years old, now seventy-three.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391b" id="Page_391b">[391]</a></span>Writing to her friend of many years, Mrs. Ellen +Mitchell, she says:—</p> + +<p>"Your birthday letter was and is much valued by +me. Its tone of earnest affection is an element in the +new inspiration recently given me by such a wonderful +testimony of public and private esteem and goodwill +as has been granted me in connection with my attainment +of ninety years. It all points to the future. I +must work to deserve what I have received. My +dearest wish would be to take up some thread of our +A.A.W. work, and continue it. I rather hope that I +may find the way to do this in the study of Economics +which I am just starting with a small group...."</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>To Mrs. Harriet Prescott Spofford</i></p> + +<blockquote><p> +<span class="smcap">Dear Mrs. Spofford</span>,— +</p> + +<p>You wrote me a lovely letter on my ninetieth birthday. +I cannot help feeling as if the impression expressed +by you and so many other kind friends of my +personal merits must refer to some good work which I +have yet to do. What I have done looks small to me, +but I have tried a good deal for the best I have known. +This is all I can say. I am much touched by your letter, +and encouraged to go on trying. Don't you think +that the best things are already in view? The opportunities +for women, the growing toleration and sympathy +in religion, the sacred cause of peace? I have +lived, like Moses, to see the entrance into the Promised +Land. How much is this to be thankful for! My +crabbed hand shows how Time abridges my working<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392b" id="Page_392b">[392]</a></span> +powers, but I march to the brave music still, as you +and many of the juniors do.</p> + +<p>Wishing that I might sometimes see you, believe me</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Yours with affectionate regard,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Julia Ward Howe.</span> +</div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />Close upon the Birthday came another occasion of +the kind which we—in these later years—at once +welcomed and deplored. She enjoyed nothing so much +as a "function," and nothing tired her so much.</p> + +<p>On June 16, Brown University, her husband's <i>alma +mater</i> and her grandfather's, conferred upon her the +degree of Doctor of Laws. She went to Providence +to receive it in person, and thus describes the commencement +exercises to Mrs. Mitchell:—</p> + +<p>"The ordeal of the Doctorate was rather trying, but +was made as easy as possible for me. The venerable +old church was well filled, and was quite beautiful. +I sat in one of the front pews—two learned people +led me to the foot of the platform from which President +Faunce, with some laudatory remarks, handed me my +diploma, while some third party placed a picturesque +hood upon my shoulders. The band played the air +of my 'Battle Hymn,' and applause followed me as I +went back to my seat. So there!"</p> + +<p>Her companion on that occasion writes:—</p> + +<p>"She sat listening quietly to the addresses, watched +each girl and boy just starting on the voyage of life as +they marched to the platform and received from the +President's hand the scrap of paper, the parchment +diploma, reward of all their studies. Her name was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393b" id="Page_393b">[393]</a></span> +called last. With the deliberate step of age, she walked +forward, wearing her son's college gown over her white +dress, his mortar-board cap over her lace veil. She +seemed less moved than any person present; she +could not see what we saw, the tiny gallant figure bent +with fourscore and ten years of study and hard labor. +As she moved between the girl students who stood up +to let her pass, she whispered, 'How tall they are! It +seems to me the girls are much taller than they used +to be.' Did she realize how much shorter she was than +she once had been? I think not.</p> + +<p>"Then, her eyes sparkling with fun while all other +eyes were wet, she shook her hard-earned diploma +with a gay gesture in the faces of those girls, cast on +them a keen glance that somehow was a challenge, +'Catch up with me if you can!'</p> + +<p>"She had labored long for the higher education of +women, suffered estrangement, borne ridicule for it—the +sight of those girl graduates, starting on their life +voyage equipped with a good education, was like a +sudden realization of a life-long dream; uplifted her, +gave her strength for the fatigues of the day. At the +dinner given for her and the college dignitaries by +Mrs. William Goddard, she was at her best."</p> + +<p>She was asked for a Fourth of July message to the +Sunday-School children of the Congregational Church, +and wrote:—</p> + +<p>"I want them to build up character in themselves +and in the community, to give to the country just so +many men and women who will be incapable of meanness +or dishonesty, who will look upon life as a sacred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394b" id="Page_394b">[394]</a></span> +trust, given to them for honorable service to their +fellow men and women. I would have them feel that, +whether rich or poor, they are bound to be of use in +their day and generation, and to be mindful of the +Scripture saying that 'no man liveth unto himself.' +We all have our part to do in keeping up the character +and credit of our country. For her sake we should +study to become good and useful citizens."</p> + + +<p><br />In the summer of 1909 the Cretan question came up +again. Once more Turkey attempted to regain active +possession of Crete; once more the voice of Christendom +was raised in protest. She had no thought this +time of being "too old." Being called upon for help, +she wrote at once to President Taft, "praying him to +find some way to help the Cretans in the terrible prospect +of their being delivered over, bound hand and +foot, to Turkish misrule." She was soon gladdened by +a reply from the President, saying that he had not +considered the Cretans as he should, but promising to +send her letter to the Secretary of State. "I thank God +most earnestly," she writes, "for even thus much. +To-day, I feel that I must write all pressing letters, +as my time may be short."</p> + +<p>Accordingly she composed an open letter on the +Cretan question. "It is rather crude, but it is from +my heart of hearts. I had to write it."</p> + +<p>Suffrage, too, had its share of her attention this +summer. There were meetings at "Marble House" +[Newport] in which she was deeply interested. She attended +one in person; to the next she sent the second<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395b" id="Page_395b">[395]</a></span> +and third generations, staying at home herself to amuse +and care for the fourth.</p> + +<p>On the last day of August she records once more +her sorrow at the departure of the summer. She adds, +"God grant me to be prepared to live or die, as He +shall decree. It is best, I think, to anticipate life, and +to cultivate forethought.... I think it may have been +to-day that I read the last pages of Martineau's 'Seat +of Authority in Religion,' an extremely valuable book, +yet a painful one to read, so entirely does it do away +with the old-time divinity of the dear Christ. But it +leaves Him the divinity of character—no theory or +discovery can take that away."</p> + +<p>Late September brought an occasion to which she +had looked forward with mingled pleasure and dread; +the celebration of the Hudson-Fulton Centennial in +New York. She had been asked for a poem, and had +taken great pains with it, writing and re-writing it, +hammering and polishing. She thought it finished in +July, yet two days before the celebration she was still +re-touching it.</p> + +<p>"I have been much dissatisfied with my Fulton +poem. Lying down to rest this afternoon, instead of +sleep, of which I felt no need, I began to try for some +new lines which should waken it up a little, and think +that I succeeded. I had brought no manuscript paper, +so had to scrawl my amendments on Sanborn's old long +envelope."</p> + +<p>Later in the day two more lines came to her, and +again two the day after. Finally, on the morning of the +day itself, on awakening, she cried out,—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396b" id="Page_396b">[396]</a></span>"I have got my last verse!"</p> + +<p>The occasion was a notable one. The stage of the +Metropolitan Opera House was filled with dignitaries, +delegates from other States, foreign diplomats in +brilliant uniforms. The only woman among them was +the little figure in white, to greet whom, as she came +forward on her son's arm, the whole great assembly +rose and stood. They remained standing while she +read her poem in clear unfaltering tones; the applause +that rang out showed that she had once more touched +the heart of the public.</p> + +<p>This poem was printed in "Collier's Weekly," unfortunately +from a copy made before the "last verse" +was finished to her mind. This distressed her. "Let +this be a lesson!" she said. "Never print a poem or +speech till it has been delivered; always give the +eleventh hour its chance!"</p> + +<p>This eleventh hour brought a very special chance; +a few days before, the world had been electrified by +the news of Peary's discovery of the North Pole: it +was the general voice that cried through her lips,—</p> + +<p class="center"> +The Flag of Freedom crowns the Pole!<br /> +</p> + +<p>The following letter was written while she was at +work on the poem:—</p> + +<p class="center"><i>To Laura</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, July 9, 1909. +</div> + +<p>Why, yes, I'm doing the best I know how. Have +written a poem for the Hudson and Fulton celebration, +September 28. Worked hard at it. Guess it's only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397b" id="Page_397b">[397]</a></span> +pretty good, if even that. Maud takes me out every +day under the pine tree, makes me sit while she reads +aloud Freeman's shorter work on Sicily. I enjoy this.... +I have just read Froude's "Cæsar," which Sanborn +says he hates, but which I found as readable as +a novel. Am also reading a work of Kuno Fischer on +"Philosophy," especially relating to Descartes. Now +you know, Miss, or should know, that <i>same</i> had great +<i>fame</i>, and sometimes <i>blame</i>, as a philosopher. But +he don't make no impression on my mind. I never +doubted that I was, so don't need no "<i>cogito, ergo +sum,</i>" which is what Carty, old Boy, amounts to. Your +letter, dear, was a very proper attention under the +circumstances. Shouldn't object to another. Lemme +see! objects cannot be subjects, nor <i>vice versa</i>. How do +you know that you washed your face this morning? +You don't know it, and I don't believe that you did. +You might consult H. Richards about some of these +particulars. He is a man of some sense. You are, bless +you, not much wiser than your affectionate</p> + +<div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Ma.</span> +</div></blockquote> + +<p>Returned to Oak Glen, after the celebration, she +writes:—</p> + +<p class="center"><i>To her son and his wife</i></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, October 1, 1909. +</div> + +<p>... I found my trees still green, and everything +comfortable. I did not dare to write to any one yesterday, +my head was so full of nonsense. Reaction +from brain-fatigue takes this shape with me, and everything +goes "higgle-wiggledy, hi-cockalorum," or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398b" id="Page_398b">[398]</a></span> +words to that effect.... We had a delightful visit with +you, dear F. G. and H. M. I miss you both, and miss +the lovely panorama of the hills, and the beauteous +flower parterres. Well, here's for next year in early +Autumn, and I hope I may see you both before that +time. With thanks for kindest entertainment, and +best of love,</p> + +<div class="signature"> +Your very affectionate<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mother and ditto-in-law</span>. +</div></blockquote> + +<p class="center"><i>To George H. Richards</i><a name="FNanchor_151_151" id="FNanchor_151_151"></a><a href="#Footnote_151_151" class="fnanchor">[151]</a></p> + +<blockquote><div class="signature"> +<span class="smcap">Oak Glen</span>, October 1, 1909.</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Uncle George</span>,— +</p> + +<p>I got through all right, in spite of prospective views, +of fainting fits, apoplexy, what not? Trouble is now +that I cannot keep calling up some thousands of people, +and saying: "Admire me, do. I wrote it all my little +own self." Seriously, there is a little reaction from so +much excitement. But I hope to recover my senses in +time. I improved the last two stanzas much when I +recited the poem. The last line read</p> + +<p class="center"> +The Flag of Freedom crowns the Pole!<br /> +</p> + +<p>I tell you, I brought it out with a will, and they all +[the audience] made a great noise....</p></blockquote> + + +<p><br />We doubt if any of the compliments pleased her so +much as that of the Irish charwoman who, mop in +hand, had been listening at one of the side doors of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399b" id="Page_399b">[399]</a></span> +the theatre. "Oh, you dear little old lady!" she cried. +"You speaked your piece <i>real</i> good!"</p> + +<p>Late October finds her preparing for the move to +Boston.</p> + +<p>"I have had what I may call a spasm of gratitude +to God for His great goodness to me, sitting in my +pleasant little parlor, with the lovely golden trees in +near view, and the devotion of my children and great +kindness of my friends well in mind. Oh! help me, +divine Father, to merit even a very little of Thy kindness!"</p> + +<p>In this autumn she was elected a member of the +American Academy of Arts and Letters, and in December +she wrote for its first meeting a poem called +"The Capitol." She greatly desired to read this poem +before the association, and Maud, albeit with many +misgivings, agreed to take her on to Washington. +This was not to be. On learning of her intention, three +officers of the association, William Dean Howells, +Robert Underwood Johnson, and Thomas Nelson +Page, sent her a "round-robin" telegram, begging her +not to run the risk of the long winter journey. The +kindly suggestion was not altogether well taken. +"Ha!" she flashed out. "They think I am too old, +but there's a little ginger left in the old blue jar!"</p> + +<p>She soon realized the wisdom as well as the friendliness +of the round robin, and confided to the Journal +that she had been in two minds about it.</p> + +<p>On Christmas Day she writes:—</p> + +<p>"Thanks to God who gave us the blessed Christ. +What a birth was this! Two thousand years have only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400b" id="Page_400b">[400]</a></span> +increased our gratitude for it. How it has consecrated +Babyhood and Maternity! Two infants, grown to +man's estate, govern the civilized world to-day, Christ +and Moses. I am still thankful to be here in the flesh, +as they were once, and oh! that I may never pass +where they are not!"</p> + +<p>The winter of 1909-10 was a severe one, and she +was more or less housed; yet the days were full and +bright for her. "Life," she cried one day, "is like a +cup of tea; all the sugar is at the bottom!" and again, +"Oh! I must go so soon, and I am only just ready to +go to college!"</p> + +<p>When it was too cold for her to go out, she took her +walk in the house, with the windows open, pacing +resolutely up and down her room and the room opposite. +She sat long hours at her desk, in patient toil. +She was always picking up dropped stitches, trying to +keep every promise, answer every note.</p> + +<p>"Went through waste-paper basket, redeeming some +bits torn to fragments, which either should be answered +or recorded. Wrote an autograph for Mr. Blank. It +was asked for in 1905. Had been <i>put away</i> and forgotten."</p> + +<p>She got too tired that morning, and could not fully +enjoy the Authors' Club in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Higginson and I sat like two superannuated +old idols. Each of us said a little say when the +business was finished."</p> + +<p>It is not recalled that they presented any such +appearance to others.</p> + +<p>She went to the opera, a mingled pleasure and pain.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401b" id="Page_401b">[401]</a></span>"It was the 'Huguenots,' much of which was known +to me in early youth, when I used to sing the 'Rataplan' +chorus with my brothers. I sang also Valentine's +prayer, '<i>Parmi les fleurs mon rêve se ranime</i>,' with obligato +bassoon accompaniment, using the 'cello instead. +I know that I sang much better that night than usual, +for dear Uncle John said to me, 'You singed good!' +Poor Huti played the 'cello. Now, I listened for the familiar +bits, and recognized the drinking chorus in Act +1st, the 'Rataplan' in Act 2d. Valentine's prayer, if +given, was so overlaid with <i>fioritura</i> that I did not feel +sure of it. The page's pretty song was all right, but I +suffered great fatigue, and the reminiscences were sad."</p> + +<p>Through the winter she continued the study of +economics with some fifteen members of the New +England Woman's Club. She read Bergson too, and +now and then "got completely bogged" in him, finding +no "central point that led anywhere."</p> + +<p>About this time she wrote:—</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>"Some Rules for Everyday Life</i></p> + +<p>"1. Begin every day with a few minutes of retired +meditation, tending to prayer, in order to feel within +yourself the spiritual power which will enable you to +answer the demands of practical life.</p> + +<p>"2. Cultivate systematic employment and learn to +estimate correctly the time required to accomplish +whatever you may undertake.</p> + +<p>"3. Try to occupy both your mind and your +muscles, since each of these will help the other, and +both deteriorate without sufficient exercise.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402b" id="Page_402b">[402]</a></span>"4. Remember that there is great inherent selfishness +in human nature, and train yourself to consider +adequately the advantage and pleasure of others.</p> + +<p>"5. Be thankful to be useful.</p> + +<p>"6. Try to ascertain what are real uses, and to follow +such maxims and methods as will stand the test +of time, and not fail with the passing away of a transient +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"7. Be neither over distant nor over familiar in +your intercourse; friendly rather than confidential; +not courting responsibility, but not declining it when +it of right belongs to you.</p> + +<p>"8. Be careful not to falsify true principles by a +thoughtless and insufficient application of them.</p> + +<p>"9. Though actions of high morality ensure in the +end the greatest success, yet view them in the light of +obligation, not in that of policy.</p> + +<p>"10. Whatever your talents may be, consider yourself +as belonging to the average of humanity, since, +even if superior to many in some respects, you will be +likely to fall below them in others.</p> + +<p>"11. Remember the Christian triad of virtues. +Have faith in principles, hope in God, charity with and +for all mankind."</p> + + +<p><br />A windy March found her "rather miserably ailing." +Dr. Langmaid came, and pronounced her +lungs "sound as a bass drum"; nothing amiss save +a throat irritated by wind and dust. Thereupon she +girded herself and buckled to her next task, a poem +for the centenary of James Freeman Clarke.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403b" id="Page_403b">[403]</a></span>"I have despaired of a poem which people seem to +expect from me for the dear James Freeman's centennial. +To-day the rhymes suddenly flowed, but the +thought is difficult to convey—the reflection of heaven +in his soul is what he gave, and what he left us."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 1.</i> Very much tossed up and down about my +poem...."</p> + +<p>"<i>April 2.</i> Was able at last, <i>D.G.</i>, to make the poem +explain itself. Rosalind, my incorruptible critic, was +satisfied with it. I think and hope that all my trouble +has been worth while. I bestowed it most unwillingly, +having had little hope that I could make my figure of +speech intelligible. I am very thankful for this poem, +cannot be thankful enough."</p> + +<p>This was her third tribute to the beloved Minister, +and is, perhaps, the best of the three. The thought +which she found so difficult of conveyance is thus +expressed:—</p> + +<p> +Lifting from the Past its veil,<br /> +What of his does now avail?<br /> +Just a mirror in his breast<br /> +That revealed a heavenly guest,<br /> +And the love that made us free<br /> +Of the same high company.<br /> +These he brought us, these he left,<br /> +When we were of him bereft.<br /><br /> +* * * +* * * +</p> + + +<p><br />She thus describes the occasion:—</p> + +<p>"Coughed in the night, and at waking suffered much +in mind, fearing that a wild fit of coughing might make +my reading unacceptable and even ridiculous. Imagine +my joy when I found my voice clear and strong, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404b" id="Page_404b">[404]</a></span> +read the whole poem [forty-four lines] without the +slightest inclination to cough. This really was the +granting of my prayer, and my first thought about it +was, 'What shall I render to the Lord for all His goodness +to me?' I thought, 'I will interest myself more +efficiently in the great questions which concern Life +and Society at large.' If I have 'the word for the +moment,' as some think, I will take more pains to +speak it."</p> + +<p>A little later came a centenary which—alas!—she +did not enjoy. It was that of Margaret Fuller, and +was held in Cambridge. She was asked to attend it, +and was assured that she "would not be expected to +speak." This kindly wish to spare fatigue to a woman +of ninety-one was the last thing she desired. She +could hardly believe that she would be left out—she, +who had known Margaret, had talked and corresponded +with her.</p> + +<p>"They have not asked me to speak!" she said more +than once as the time drew near.</p> + +<p>She was reassured; of course they would ask her +when they saw her!</p> + +<p>"I have a poem on Margaret!"</p> + +<p>"Take it with you! Of course you will be asked to +say something, and then you will be all ready with +your poem in your pocket."</p> + +<p>Thus Maud, in all confidence. Indeed, if one of her +own had gone with her, the matter would have been +easily arranged; unfortunately, the companion was a +friend who could make no motion in the matter. She +returned tired and depressed. "They did not ask me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405b" id="Page_405b">[405]</a></span> +to speak," she said, "and I was the only person present +who had known Margaret and remembered her."</p> + +<p>For a little while this incident weighed on her. She +felt that she was "out of the running"; but a winning +race was close at hand.</p> + +<p>The question of pure milk was before the Massachusetts +Legislature, and was being hotly argued. An +urgent message came by telephone; would Mrs. Howe +say a word for the good cause? Maud went to her +room, and found her at her desk, the morning's campaign +already begun.</p> + +<p>"There is to be a hearing at the State House on the +milk question; they want you dreadfully to speak. +What do you say?"</p> + +<p>"Give me half an hour!" she said.</p> + +<p>Before the half-hour was over she had sketched out +her speech and dressed herself in her best flowered +silk cloak and her new lilac hood, a birthday gift from +a poor seamstress. Arrived at the State House, she +sat patiently through many speeches. Finally she was +called on to speak; it was noticed that no oath was +required of her. As she rose and came forward on +her daughter's arm,—"You may remain seated, Mrs. +Howe," said the benevolent chairman.</p> + +<p>"I prefer to stand!" was the reply.</p> + +<p>She had left her notes behind; she did not need them. +Standing in the place where, year after year, she had +stood to ask for the full rights of citizenship, she made +her last thrilling appeal for justice.</p> + +<p>"We have heard," she said, "a great deal about the +farmers' and the dealers' side of this case. We want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406b" id="Page_406b">[406]</a></span> +the matter settled on the ground of justice and mercy; +it ought not to take long to settle what is just to all +parties. Justice to all! Let us stand on that. There +is one deeply interested party, however, of whom we +have heard nothing. He cannot speak for himself; I +am here to speak for him: the infant!"</p> + +<p>The effect was electrical. In an instant the tired audience, +the dull or dogged or angry debaters, woke to +a new interest, a new spirit. No farmer so rough, no +middle-man so keen, no legislator so apathetic, but +felt the thrill. In a silence charged with deepest feeling +all listened as to a prophetess, as, step by step, she +unfolded the case of the infant as against farmers and +dealers.</p> + +<p>As Arthur Dehon Hill, counsel for the Pure Milk +Association, led her from the room, he said, "Mrs. +Howe, you have saved the day!"</p> + +<p>This incident was still in her mind on her ninety-first +birthday, a few days later.</p> + +<p>"My parlors are full of beautiful flowers and other +gifts, interpreted by notes expressive of much affection, +and telegrams of the same sort. What dare I ask +for more? Only that I may do something in the future +to deserve all this love and gratitude. I have intended +to deserve it all and more. Yet, when in thought I +review my life, I feel the waste and loss of power thro' +want of outlook. Like many another young person, +I did not know what my really available gifts were. +Perhaps the best was a feeling of what I may call 'the +sense of the moment,' which led a French friend to say +of me: '<i>Mme. Howe possède le mot à un dégré remarquable.</i>'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407b" id="Page_407b">[407]</a></span> +I was often praised for saying 'just the right +word,' and I usually did this with a strong feeling that +it ought to be said."</p> + +<p>Early in June, just as she was preparing for the +summer flitting, she had a bad fall, breaking a rib. +This delayed the move for a week, no more, the bone +knitting easily. She was soon happy among her green +trees, her birds singing around her.</p> + +<p>The memories of this last summer come flocking in, +themselves like bright birds. She was so well, so joyous, +giving her lilies with such full hands; it was a +golden time.</p> + +<p>As the body failed, the mind—or so it seemed to +us—grew ever clearer, the veil that shrouds the spirit +ever more transparent. She "saw things hidden."</p> + +<p>One day a summer neighbor came, bringing her son, +a handsome, athletic fellow, smartly dressed, a fine +figure of gilded youth. She looked at him a good deal: +presently she said suddenly,—</p> + +<p>"You write poetry!"</p> + +<p>The lad turned crimson: his mother looked dumfounded. +It proved that he had lately written a prize +poem, and that literature was the goal of his ambition. +Another day she found a philosopher hidden in +what seemed to the rest of the family merely "a +callow boy in pretty white duck clothes." So she +plucked out the heart of each man's mystery, but so +tenderly that it was yielded gladly, young and old +alike feeling themselves understood.</p> + +<p>Among the visitors of this summer none was more +welcome than her great-grandson, Christopher Birckhead,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408b" id="Page_408b">[408]</a></span><a name="FNanchor_152_152" id="FNanchor_152_152"></a><a href="#Footnote_152_152" class="fnanchor">[152]</a> +then an infant in arms. She loved to hold and +watch the child, brooding over him with grave tenderness: +it was a beautiful and gracious picture of +Past and Future.</p> + +<p>Maud had just written a book on Sicily, and, as +always, our mother read and corrected the galley +proofs. She did this with exquisite care and thoughtfulness, +never making her suggestions on the proof itself, +but on a separate sheet of paper, with the number of +the galley, the phrase, and her suggested emendations. +This was her invariable custom: the writer must be perfectly +free to retain her own phrase, if she preferred it.</p> + +<p>Walking tired her that summer, but she was very +faithful about it.</p> + +<p>"Zacko," she would command John Elliott, "take +me for a walk."</p> + +<p>The day before she took to her bed, he remembers +that she clung to him more than usual and said,—</p> + +<p>"It tires me very much." (This after walking twice +round the piazza.)</p> + +<p>"Once more!" he encouraged.</p> + +<p>"No—I have walked all I can to-day."</p> + +<p>"Let me take you back to your room this way," he +said, leading her back by the piazza. "That makes +five times each way!"</p> + +<p>She laughed and was pleased to have done this, but +he thinks she had a great sense of weakness too.</p> + +<p>Her favorite piece on the "Victor" that summer was +"The Artillerist's Oath." The music had a gallant +ring to it, and there was something heroic about the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409b" id="Page_409b">[409]</a></span> +whole thing, something that suggested the Forlorn +Hope—how many of them she had led! When nine +o'clock came, she would ask for this piece by the +nickname she had given it, taken from one of its odd +lines,—</p> + +<p class="center"> +"I'll wed thee in the battle's front!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>While the song was being given, she was all alert +and alive, even if she may have been sleepy earlier in +the evening. She would get up with a little gesture of +courage, and take leave of us, always with a certain +ceremony, that was like the withdrawing of royalty. +The evening was then over, and we too went to bed!</p> + +<p>As we gather up our treasures of this last summer, +we remember that several things might have prepared +us for what was coming, had not our eyes been holden. +She spoke a great deal of old times, the figures of her +childhood and girlhood being evidently very near to +her. She quoted them often; "My grandma used to +say—" She spoke as naturally as the boy in the +next room might speak of her.</p> + +<p>She would not look in the glass; "I don't like to +see my old face!" she said. She could not see the +beauty that every one else saw. Yet she kept to the +very last a certain tender coquetry. She loved her +white dresses, and the flowered silk cloak of that last +summer. She chose with care the jewels suited to +each costume, the topaz cross for the white, the amethysts +for the lilac. She had a great dread of old people's +being untidy or unprepossessing in appearance, +and never grudged the moments spent in adjusting +the right cap and lace collar.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410b" id="Page_410b">[410]</a></span>There was an almost unearthly light in her face, a +transparency and sweetness that spoke to others more +plainly than to us: Hugh Birckhead saw and recognized +it as a look he had seen in other faces of saintly age, +as their translation approached. But we said joyously +to her and to each other, "She will round out +the century; we shall all keep the Hundredth Birthday +together!" And we and she partly believed it.</p> + +<p>The doctor had insisted strongly that she should +keep, through the summer at least, the trained nurse +who had ministered to her after her fall. She "heard +what he said, but it made no difference." In early +August she records "a passage at arms with Maud, in +which I clearly announced my intention of dispensing +with the services of a trained nurse, my good health +and simple habits rendering it entirely unnecessary."</p> + +<p>She threatened to write to her man of business.</p> + +<p>"<i>I would rather die</i>," she said, "than be an old +woman with a nurse!"</p> + +<p>Maud and Florence wept, argued, implored, but +the nurse was dismissed. The Journal acknowledges +that "her ministrations and Dr. Cobb's diagnosis +have been very beneficial to my bodily health." On +the same day she records the visit of a Persian Prince, +who had come to this country chiefly to see two persons, +the President of the United States and Mrs. +Julia Ward Howe. "He also claims to be a reincarnation +of some remarkable philosopher; and to be so +greatly interested in the cause of Peace that he declines +to visit our ships now in the harbor here, to +which he has been invited."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411b" id="Page_411b">[411]</a></span>Reading Theodore Parker's sermon on "Wisdom +and Intellect," she found it so full of notable sayings +that she thought "a little familiar book of daily +inspiration and aspiration" might be made from his +writings: she wrote to Mr. Francis J. Garrison suggesting +this, and suggesting also, what had been +long in her mind, the collecting and publishing of her +"Occasional Poems."</p> + +<p>In late September, she was "moved to write one or +more open letters on what religion really is, for some +one of the women's papers"; and the next day began +upon "What is Religion?" or rather, "What Sort of +Religion makes Religious Liberty possible?"</p> + +<p>A day or two later, she was giving an "offhand talk" +on the early recollections of Newport at the Papéterie, +and going to an afternoon tea at a musical house, +where, after listening to Schumann Romances and +Chopin waltzes, and to the "Battle Hymn" on the +'cello, she was moved to give a performance of "Flibbertigibbet." +This occasion reminded her happily of +her father's house, of Henry "playing tolerably on the +'cello, Marion studying the violin, Bro' Sam's lovely +tenor voice."</p> + +<p>Now came the early October days when she was +to receive the degree of Doctor of Laws from Smith +College. She hesitated about making the tiresome +journey, but finally, "Grudging the trouble and expense, +I decide to go to Smith College, for my degree, +but think I won't do so any more."</p> + +<p>She started accordingly with daughter and maid, +for Northampton, Massachusetts. It was golden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412b" id="Page_412b">[412]</a></span> +weather, and she was in high spirits. Various college +dignitaries met her at the station; one of these had +given up a suite of rooms for her use; she was soon +established in much peace and comfort.</p> + +<p>Wednesday, October 5, was a day of perfect autumn +beauty. She was early dressed in her white dress, with +the college gown of rich black silk over it, the "mortar-board" +covering in like manner her white lace cap. +Thus arrayed, a wheeled chair conveyed her to the +great hall, already packed with visitors and graduates, +as was the deep platform with college officials and +guests of honor. Opposite the platform, as if hung in +air, a curving gallery was filled with white-clad girls, +some two thousand of them; as she entered they rose +like a flock of doves, and with them the whole audience. +They rose once more when her name was called, last +in the list of those honored with degrees; and as she +came forward, the organ pealed, and the great chorus +of fresh young voices broke out with</p> + +<p> +"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord—"<br /> +</p> + +<p>It was the last time.</p> + +<p>Later in the day the students of Chapin House +brought their guest-book, begging for her autograph. +She looked at Laura with a twinkle.</p> + +<p>"Do you think they would like me to write something?"</p> + +<p>Assured on that point, she waited a moment, and +then wrote after her signature,—</p> + +<p> +Wandered to Smith College<br /> +In pursuit of knowledge;<br /> +Leaves so much the wiser,<br /> +Nothing can surprise her!<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413b" id="Page_413b">[413]</a></span>She reached home apparently without undue fatigue. +"She will be more tired to-morrow!" we said; +but she was not. Her son came for the week-end, and +his presence was always a cordial. Sunday was a +happy day. In the evening we gathered round the +piano, she playing, son and daughters singing the old +German student songs brought by "Uncle Sam" from +Heidelberg seventy years before.</p> + +<p>On the Tuesday she went to the Papéterie, and was +the life and soul of the party, sparkling with merriment. +Driving home, it was so warm that she begged +to have the top of the carriage put back, and so she +enjoyed the crowning pageant of the autumn, the full +hunter's moon and the crimson ball of the sun both +visible at once.</p> + +<p>Wednesday found her busy at her desk, confessing +to a slight cold, but making nothing of it. The next +day bronchitis developed, followed by pneumonia. +For several days the issue seemed doubtful, the strong +constitution fighting for life. Two devoted physicians +were beside her, one the friend of many years, the +other a young assistant. The presence of the latter +puzzled her, but his youth and strength seemed tonic +to her, and she would rest quietly with her hand in his +strong hand.</p> + +<p>On Sunday evening the younger physician thought +her convalescent; the elder said, "If she pulls through +the next twenty-four hours, she will recover."</p> + +<p>But she was too weary. That night they heard her +say, "God will help me!" and again, toward morning, +"I am so tired!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414b" id="Page_414b">[414]</a></span>Being alone for a moment with Maud, she spoke +one word: a little word that had meant "good-bye" +between them in the nursery days.</p> + +<p>So, in the morning of Monday, October 17, her +spirit passed quietly on to God's keeping.</p> + +<p>Those who were present at her funeral will not forget +it. The flower-decked church, the mourning multitude, +the white coffin borne high on the shoulders of +eight stalwart grandsons, the words of age-long wisdom +and beauty gathered into a parting tribute, the bugle +sounding Taps, as she passed out in her last earthly +triumph, the blind children singing round the grave +on which the autumn sun shone with a final golden +greeting.</p> + + +<p><br />We have told the story of our mother's life, possibly +at too great length; but she herself told it in eight +words.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," Maud asked her once, "what is the ideal +aim of life?"</p> + +<p>She paused a moment, and replied, dwelling thoughtfully +on each word,—</p> + +<p>"To learn, to teach, to serve, to enjoy!"</p> + + +<h3><br /><br /><br />THE END</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>INDEX</h2> + + +<p> +Abbott, J., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 214, 215; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 99.<br /> +<br /> +Abdin Palace, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 35, 36.<br /> +<br /> +Abdul Hamid II, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 42.<br /> +<br /> +Abdul Hassan, mosque of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 36.<br /> +<br /> +Aberdeen, Countess of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165, 166.<br /> +<br /> +Aberdeen, J. C. H. Gordon, Earl of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165.<br /> +<br /> +Abolitionists, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 177, 305; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Academy of Fine Arts, French, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 23.<br /> +<br /> +Acroceraunian Mountains, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 272.<br /> +<br /> +Acropolis, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43.<br /> +<br /> +Adamowski, Timothée, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 55, 58.<br /> +<br /> +Adams, Charles Follen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 270, 273;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">verse by, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 335.</span><br /> +<br /> +Adams, Mrs. C. F., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 266.<br /> +<br /> +Adams, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Adams, John Quincy, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 312.<br /> +<br /> +Adams, Nehemiah, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Advertiser, Boston</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 195, 222.<br /> +<br /> +Ægina, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 73.<br /> +<br /> +Æschylus, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 130, 282, 348, 372.<br /> +<br /> +Agassiz, Alexander, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 50.<br /> +<br /> +Agassiz, Elizabeth Cary, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 124, 345, 361; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 228, 287, 292.<br /> +<br /> +Agassiz, Louis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 124, 151, 251, 345; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 150, 158.<br /> +<br /> +Aidé, Hamilton, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 251.<br /> +<br /> +Airlie, Lady, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 254.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alabama</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 108.<br /> +<br /> +Albania, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 272.<br /> +<br /> +Albany, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 342.<br /> +<br /> +Albert of Savoy, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 303.<br /> +<br /> +Albert Victor, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Albinola, Sig., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94.<br /> +<br /> +Alboni, Marietta, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Alcott, A. Bronson, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 285, 290; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 57, 120.<br /> +<br /> +Aldrich, Mrs. Richard, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 367.<br /> +<br /> +Aldrich, T. B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 244, 262; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 70, 354, 357, 358.<br /> +<br /> +Aldrich, Mrs. T. B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 245.<br /> +<br /> +Alger, Wm. R., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 207, 244, 245; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 127, 139, 140.<br /> +<br /> +Allston, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Alma-Tadema, Lady, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Alma-Tadema, Laurence, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168, 169, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Almy, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 139.<br /> +<br /> +Amadeo, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 31, 278.<br /> +<br /> +Amalfi, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 33.<br /> +<br /> +Amberley, Lady, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 266.<br /> +<br /> +Amélie, Queen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 30.<br /> +<br /> +America, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 7, 11, 207, 247, 267, 273, 320, 344; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 18, 21, 189.<br /> +<br /> +American Academy of Arts and Letters, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 399.<br /> +<br /> +American Academy of Science, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 251, 259.<br /> +<br /> +American Authors, Society of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 355.<br /> +<br /> +American Branch, International Peace Society, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 306.<br /> +<br /> +American Civil War, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 176, 186, 219-22; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 253.<br /> +<br /> +American Institute of Education, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 68.<br /> +<br /> +<i>American Notes</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 81.<br /> +<br /> +American Peace Society, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 303.<br /> +<br /> +American Revolution, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +American School of Archæology, Athens, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243.<br /> +<br /> +American Woman Suffrage Association, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 365.<br /> +<br /> +Ames, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 166, 167.<br /> +<br /> +Ames, Charles Gordon, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 392; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187,193, 216, 229, 273, 280, 287, 288, 298, 324, 328, 358, 361.<br /> +<br /> +Ames, Fanny, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 297.<br /> +<br /> +Ames, Mrs. Sheldon, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 22.<br /> +<br /> +Amsterdam, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11.<br /> +<br /> +Anacreon, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 289.<br /> +<br /> +Anagnos, Julia R., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 96, 104, 106, 114, 115, 116, 119, 122, 126, 128, 133, 159-63, 172, 181, 216, 249-51, 264, 265, 267, 297, 349, 350, 352; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 46, 59, 65, 70, 73, 74, 115-20, 123, 127, 128, 129, 164, 349.<br /> +<br /> +Anagnos, Michael, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 273, 281, 288-90, 297, 331, 332; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 116-18, 129, 228, 229, 293, 300, 347, 348, 349, 357, 360.<br /> +<br /> +Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 232.<br /> +<br /> +Anderson, Hendrik, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 240, 243, 244, 248, 252.<br /> +<br /> +Anderson, Isabel, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 233.<br /> +<br /> +Anderson, Larz, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 169; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 233, 287.<br /> +<br /> +Andrew, John A., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 150, 151, 186, 189, 195, 220, 231, 233, 238, 239, 246, 261, 283, 381; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 105, 265, 323.<br /> +<br /> +Andrew, Mrs. J. A., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 186, 231.<br /> +<br /> +Andrews, E. B., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187.<br /> +<br /> +Anniversary Week, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 389; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 151.<br /> +<br /> +Anthony, Susan, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 344.<br /> +<br /> +Antioch College, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Antonayades, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34.<br /> +<br /> +Antwerp, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 279; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Antwerp Cathedral, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Antwerp Musée, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11, 172, 173.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418b" id="Page_418b">[418]</a></span>Ap Thomas, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 266.<br /> +<br /> +Apocrypha, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 317.<br /> +<br /> +Appleton, Fanny. <i>See</i> Longfellow.<br /> +<br /> +Appleton, Maud, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 58.<br /> +<br /> +Appleton, T. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 159, 359; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 92, 93.<br /> +<br /> +Argos, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 275, 277.<br /> +<br /> +Argyll, Elizabeth, Duchess of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267.<br /> +<br /> +Argyll, G. D., Campbell, Duke of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267.<br /> +<br /> +Argyll, ninth Duke of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 223.<br /> +<br /> +Arion Musical Society, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 173.<br /> +<br /> +Aristophanes, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 329; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 98, 128, 130.<br /> +<br /> +Aristotle, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 335; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 7, 169, 174, 348, 372.<br /> +<br /> +Armenia, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 189, 190, 209, 215.<br /> +<br /> +Armenia, Friends of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 190, 191.<br /> +<br /> +Armstrong, S. C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 91.<br /> +<br /> +Army Register, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 344.<br /> +<br /> +Arnold, Benedict, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Arnold, Matthew, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Arthur, Chester A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 101.<br /> +<br /> +Ascension Church, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 70.<br /> +<br /> +Assiout, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 36.<br /> +<br /> +Association for the Advancement of Women, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 361, 373-76, 383, 384; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 29, 58, 73, 84, 90, 91, 95, 97, 98, 131, 141, 152, 162, 178, 180, 183, 199, 200, 207, 209, 268.<br /> +<br /> +Astor, Emily. <i>See</i> Ward.<br /> +<br /> +Astor, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 121.<br /> +<br /> +Astor, Wm. B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 57, 99.<br /> +<br /> +Athens, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 273, 274, 275, 278, 287; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43, 243.<br /> +<br /> +Athens Museum, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43.<br /> +<br /> +Atherstone, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97, 280.<br /> +<br /> +Athol, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 119.<br /> +<br /> +Atkinson, Edward, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 62, 177.<br /> +<br /> +Atlanta, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 207, 208.<br /> +<br /> +Atlantic, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 75.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Atlantic Monthly</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 176, 188; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 295.<br /> +<br /> +Augusta, Empress, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 22.<br /> +<br /> +Austria, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94.<br /> +<br /> +Authors Club, Boston, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 270, 271, 320, 334, 340, 341, 354, 357.<br /> +<br /> +Avignon, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Babcock, Mrs. C. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 215.<br /> +<br /> +Bacon, Gorham, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 49.<br /> +<br /> +Baddeley, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 246.<br /> +<br /> +Baez, Buenaventura, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 323, 325, 328, 329, 334.<br /> +<br /> +Bailey, Jacob, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 37, 52.<br /> +<br /> +Bairam, feast of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34.<br /> +<br /> +Baker, Lady, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267.<br /> +<br /> +Baker, Sir Samuel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 266.<br /> +<br /> +Baltimore, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 169, 240; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 343, 344.<br /> +<br /> +Baluet, Judith. <i>See</i> Marion.<br /> +<br /> +Balzac, Honoré de, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 67.<br /> +<br /> +Bancroft, George, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 46, 209, 230; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 139.<br /> +<br /> +Bank of Commerce, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17, 63.<br /> +<br /> +Bank of England, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 62.<br /> +<br /> +Bank of the United States, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 62.<br /> +<br /> +Banks, N. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Barlow, Gen. Francis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 192; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 61.<br /> +<br /> +Barlow, Mrs. Francis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 192.<br /> +<br /> +Barnardo, T. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165.<br /> +<br /> +Barnstable, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 231, 232, 233.<br /> +<br /> +Barrows, S. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 229.<br /> +<br /> +Barrows, Mrs. S. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 209, 228.<br /> +<br /> +Bartenders' Union, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 391.<br /> +<br /> +Bartol, C. A., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 221, 222, 234, 245, 286, 346; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 127.<br /> +<br /> +Barton, Clara, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 210, 215.<br /> +<br /> +Batcheller, Mrs. Alfred, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 269.<br /> +<br /> +Batcheller, Mrs. Frank, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 292.<br /> +<br /> +Battle Abbey, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Battle Hymn</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 9, 173, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 230, 234; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 108, 125, 136, 155, 191, 233, 250, 265, 273, 279, 311, 327, 349, 351, 354, 365, 381, 392, 411, 412.<br /> +<br /> +Baur, F. C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 329, 332, 333, 335, 356.<br /> +<br /> +Bayard, T. F., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 96.<br /> +<br /> +Beach, H. P., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 61, 73, 76, 90.<br /> +<br /> +Beal, J. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 322.<br /> +<br /> +Bedford, Duchess of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Bedford Hills, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 364.<br /> +<br /> +Beecher, Catherine, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 110.<br /> +<br /> +Beecher, H. W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 226, 365; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 123, 235.<br /> +<br /> +Beethoven, L. van, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 19, 157, 351.<br /> +<br /> +Belgium, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 279, 280; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Belknap, Jane, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 128.<br /> +<br /> +Bell, Helen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 150.<br /> +<br /> +Bellini, Vincenzo, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 313.<br /> +<br /> +Bellows, H. W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 57.<br /> +<br /> +Benzon, Mrs., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 265, 266.<br /> +<br /> +Berdan, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 227.<br /> +<br /> +Bergson, Henri, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 401.<br /> +<br /> +Berlin, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 93, 94; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 12, 19.<br /> +<br /> +Bernhardt, Sarah, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 227.<br /> +<br /> +Besant, Walter, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Bethany, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 40.<br /> +<br /> +Bethlehem, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 38.<br /> +<br /> +Bible, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 46, 53, 109, 208, 254, 310, 323, 336, 340, 344, 385; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 95, 174, 231.<br /> +<br /> +Bigelow, Mary, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 145.<br /> +<br /> +Bigelow, Susan, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 145; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 231.<br /> +<br /> +Birckhead, Caroline, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 233.<br /> +<br /> +Birckhead, Christopher, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 407.<br /> +<br /> +Birckhead, Hugh, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 410.<br /> +<br /> +Bird, F. W., Sr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187.<br /> +<br /> +Bishop, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 240, 241.<br /> +<br /> +Bisland, Elizabeth, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 108.<br /> +<br /> +Bismarck, Otto von, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 19, 303.<br /> +<br /> +Björnson, Björnstjerne, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243, 247.<br /> +<br /> +Black, Wm., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Blackstone, Wm., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 73.<br /> +<br /> +Blackwell, Alice, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 190, 233, 325.<br /> +<br /> +Blackwell, Antoinette, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 375; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 152, 154.<br /> +<br /> +Blackwell, Henry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 332; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 190.<br /> +<br /> +Blair, Montgomery, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 238.<br /> +<br /> +Blanc, Louis, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 24.<br /> +<br /> +Blind, work for the, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 73; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 347. <i>See also</i> Perkins Institution <i>and</i> Kindergarten.<br /> +<br /> +Bloomsbury, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4, 7.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boatswain's Whistle</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 210, 211.<br /> +<br /> +Boer War, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 272.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419b" id="Page_419b">[419]</a></span>Bologna, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 27.<br /> +<br /> +Bonaparte, Joseph, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 147, 328.<br /> +<br /> +Bond Street, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 22.<br /> +<br /> +Bonheur, Rosa, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20.<br /> +<br /> +Boocock, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 43, 44.<br /> +<br /> +Booth, Charles, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 166.<br /> +<br /> +Booth, Edwin, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 172, 177, 203-05, 219, 327; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 69, 70, 97, 183, 198, 345.<br /> +<br /> +Booth, J. Wilkes, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 220, 221.<br /> +<br /> +Booth, Mary, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 200, 204.<br /> +<br /> +Boppart, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 133.<br /> +<br /> +Boston, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 67, 70, 74, 75, 102-04, 111, 123, 126, 127, 129, 130, 132, 156, 176, 203, 207, 249, 261, 294; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 60, 87, 92, 130, 168, 171, 181, 363.<br /> +<br /> +Boston Armenian Relief Committee, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 189.<br /> +<br /> +Boston Conservatory of Music, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 181, 217.<br /> +<br /> +Boston Museum, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 166; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 158.<br /> +<br /> +Boston Symphony Orchestra, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 373.<br /> +<br /> +Boston Theatre, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 203, 210, 350; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 210.<br /> +<br /> +Bostwick, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 225.<br /> +<br /> +Bottomore, Billy, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 53, 54.<br /> +<br /> +Bourbon dynasty, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 310.<br /> +<br /> +Bowditch, H. I., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187.<br /> +<br /> +Bowles, Ada C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 318, 390.<br /> +<br /> +Boys' Reform School, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 233.<br /> +<br /> +Bracebridge, C. N., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97, 280.<br /> +<br /> +Bracebridge, Mrs. C. N., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97, 280.<br /> +<br /> +Brahms, Johannes, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 71, 156, 210.<br /> +<br /> +Brain Club, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 201, 202, 215, 257, 264, 281.<br /> +<br /> +Brattleboro, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 118, 119.<br /> +<br /> +Breadwinners' College, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 128.<br /> +<br /> +Breschkovskaya, Catherine, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187, 188.<br /> +<br /> +Bridgman, Laura, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 73, 74, 89, 95, 101, 102, 133; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8, 145, 262, 293.<br /> +<br /> +Bright, Jacob, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 314.<br /> +<br /> +Broadwood, Louisa, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247, 255.<br /> +<br /> +Brontë, Charlotte, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Brooke, Lord, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165.<br /> +<br /> +Brooke, Stopford, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +Brooklyn, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 27; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 202.<br /> +<br /> +Brooks, C. T., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 255; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 56.<br /> +<br /> +Brooks, Phillips, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 75, 126, 127, 141, 162, 171, 172, 179.<br /> +<br /> +Brooks, Preston, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Brown, Anna, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 57.<br /> +<br /> +Brown, Charlotte Emerson, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 182.<br /> +<br /> +Brown, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 151, 177, 179, 187, 381; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 234.<br /> +<br /> +Brown, Mrs. John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 177.<br /> +<br /> +Brown, Olympia, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 389.<br /> +<br /> +Brown University, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 72, 297; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 392.<br /> +<br /> +Browning, E. B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 201, 266; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +Browning, Robert, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 266; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 84, 171, 227, 306, 367.<br /> +<br /> +Bruce, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +Bruce, Mrs. E. M., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 389, 391.<br /> +<br /> +Bruges, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 280.<br /> +<br /> +Brummel, G. B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 316.<br /> +<br /> +Brussels, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 279.<br /> +<br /> +Bryant, W. C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 209, 304; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 197, 198.<br /> +<br /> +Bryce, James, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Buck, Florence, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 391.<br /> +<br /> +Buffalo, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 376; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 90, 139.<br /> +<br /> +Buller, Charles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 82.<br /> +<br /> +Bullock, A. H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Bulwer-Lytton, E., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 262; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 206.<br /> +<br /> +Burne-Jones, Mrs. E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Burns, Robert, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 139.<br /> +<br /> +Burr, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 130.<br /> +<br /> +Burt, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 248.<br /> +<br /> +Busoni, Sig., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 192.<br /> +<br /> +Butcher, S. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 323.<br /> +<br /> +Butler, Josephine, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 21.<br /> +<br /> +Butler, W. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 248, 306.<br /> +<br /> +Butterworth, Hezekiah, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 228, 270.<br /> +<br /> +Byron, G. Gordon, Lord, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 68; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 296.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Cable, G. W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Cabot, Elliot, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 363.<br /> +<br /> +Caine, Hall, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243, 248, 250.<br /> +<br /> +Cairo, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34, 35, 36, 182.<br /> +<br /> +California, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 131, 135, 154.<br /> +<br /> +Calypso, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 272.<br /> +<br /> +Cambridge Club, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 66.<br /> +<br /> +Campagna, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 95, 134.<br /> +<br /> +Campanari, Sig., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 270.<br /> +<br /> +Campbell, Dudley, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Campello, Count Salome di, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 273, 285, 302.<br /> +<br /> +Cardini, Sig., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 43, 44.<br /> +<br /> +Carignan, Prince de, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 31.<br /> +<br /> +Carlisle, Lady, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 85, 87; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 166.<br /> +<br /> +Carlisle, G. W. F. Howard, Earl of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 81, 85, 88.<br /> +<br /> +Carlyle, Thomas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 84, 86, 172; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 65, 85, 86.<br /> +<br /> +Carlyle, Mrs. Thomas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 84; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 85, 86.<br /> +<br /> +Cary, Mrs., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 159.<br /> +<br /> +Casino Theatre, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 54, 68, 77.<br /> +<br /> +Catlin, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 179.<br /> +<br /> +Catucci, Count, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243.<br /> +<br /> +Catucci, Countess, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243.<br /> +<br /> +Century Club, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 258.<br /> +<br /> +Cerito, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87, 88.<br /> +<br /> +Ceuta, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 234.<br /> +<br /> +Chabreuil, Vicomte de, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 257.<br /> +<br /> +Chambrun, Marquis de, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Chamounix, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20.<br /> +<br /> +Chanler, Alida, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 225.<br /> +<br /> +Chanler, Margaret. <i>See</i> Aldrich, Mrs. Richard.<br /> +<br /> +Chanler, Margaret Terry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 55, 57, 60, 65, 67, 174, 176, 202, 220, 224, 240, 243, 244, 253, 254, 303.<br /> +<br /> +Chanler, T. W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 303, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Chanler, Winthrop, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 72, 94, 174, 225, 243, 303.<br /> +<br /> +Channing, Eva, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 208.<br /> +<br /> +Channing, W. E., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 70, 72, 200; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 56, 57, 77, 108, 142.<br /> +<br /> +Channing, W. H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 286; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 57, 194.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420b" id="Page_420b">[420]</a></span>Channing Memorial Church, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 78.<br /> +<br /> +Chapman, Elizabeth, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 215, 224, 289.<br /> +<br /> +Chapman, J. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 361.<br /> +<br /> +Charitable Eye and Ear Infirmary, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 129.<br /> +<br /> +Charity Club, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 228.<br /> +<br /> +Charleston, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 11.<br /> +<br /> +Chase, Jacob, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 57, 58.<br /> +<br /> +Chase, Mrs. Jacob, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 57.<br /> +<br /> +Châtelet, Mme. du, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 23.<br /> +<br /> +Chaucer, Geoffrey, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 271.<br /> +<br /> +Cheney, E. D., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 341, 375; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 88, 119, 152, 195, 208, 266, 302, 324, 328.<br /> +<br /> +Chester, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4, 164.<br /> +<br /> +Chicago, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 374; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 87, 131, 138, 178, 180, 184.<br /> +<br /> +Chickering, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 120.<br /> +<br /> +Chopin, Frédéric, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 55, 170, 351.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Christian Herald</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 278.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Christian Register</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 62.<br /> +<br /> +Church of Rome, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 241.<br /> +<br /> +Church of the Disciples, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 186, 237, 284, 346, 392; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 56.<br /> +<br /> +Cincinnati, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +City Point, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 75.<br /> +<br /> +Clarke, Bishop, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 198.<br /> +<br /> +Clarke, J. F., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 177, 185, 186, 187, 198, 211, 219, 236, 239, 247, 257, 263, 286, 290, 346, 362, 375, 392; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 66, 67, 70, 76, 137, 159, 234, 280, 402, 403.<br /> +<br /> +Clarke, Mrs. J. F., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 217.<br /> +<br /> +Clarke, Sarah, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 237.<br /> +<br /> +Claudius, Matthias, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 67, 68; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 71.<br /> +<br /> +Clay, Henry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 98.<br /> +<br /> +Clemens, S. L., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 50, 187, 341.<br /> +<br /> +Clement, E. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 320;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">verse by, 335.</span><br /> +<br /> +Cleveland, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 365, 377; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 139.<br /> +<br /> +Cleveland, Henry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 74.<br /> +<br /> +Cobb, Dr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 410.<br /> +<br /> +Cobbe, Frances P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 266, 314; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 62.<br /> +<br /> +Cobden-Sanderson, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 367.<br /> +<br /> +Cobden-Sanderson, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 367.<br /> +<br /> +Cochrane, Jessie, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 240, 246, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Coggeshall, Joseph, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 253; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 57.<br /> +<br /> +Cogswell, J. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 46, 104, 184.<br /> +<br /> +Colby, Clara, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 180.<br /> +<br /> +Cole, Thomas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 42.<br /> +<br /> +Colfax, Schuyler, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 378.<br /> +<br /> +Collegio Romano, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 255.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Colliers' Weekly</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 391.<br /> +<br /> +Collyer, Robert, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 62, 230, 255, 344.<br /> +<br /> +Cologne, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 92; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 173.<br /> +<br /> +Colonial Dames, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 198.<br /> +<br /> +Colorado, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 372.<br /> +<br /> +Columba Kang, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 91.<br /> +<br /> +Columbia University, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 227.<br /> +<br /> +Columbian Exposition, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 107, 178, 181, 182, 184.<br /> +<br /> +Columbus, Christopher, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 323; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 178, 194, 244, 357.<br /> +<br /> +Combe, George, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 95.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Commonwealth</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 141, 142.<br /> +<br /> +Concord, Mass., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 152, 177; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 57, 61, 77, 128, 194.<br /> +<br /> +Concord, N.H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Concord Prison, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 252.<br /> +<br /> +Concord School of Philosophy, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 118, 119, 120, 128.<br /> +<br /> +Constantinople, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 345; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 35, 42.<br /> +<br /> +Continental Congress, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Conway, M. D., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 306.<br /> +<br /> +Cook's agency, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34, 41.<br /> +<br /> +Cookson, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Coolidge, Joseph, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 313.<br /> +<br /> +Copperheads, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Coquelin, B. C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 288, 289.<br /> +<br /> +Coquerel, Athanase, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 286; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 315.<br /> +<br /> +Corday, Charlotte, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Cordés, Charlotte, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Corea, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 91.<br /> +<br /> +Corfù, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 272.<br /> +<br /> +Corné, Father, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 53, 54.<br /> +<br /> +Corot, J. B. C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Corse, Gen., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 380.<br /> +<br /> +Cotta, J. F., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 202.<br /> +<br /> +Council of Italian Women, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 254, 255.<br /> +<br /> +Cowell, Mary, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 13.<br /> +<br /> +Crabbe, George, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 13.<br /> +<br /> +Cram, R. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 156.<br /> +<br /> +Cramer, J. B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 43.<br /> +<br /> +Crawford, Annie. <i>See</i> Rabé.<br /> +<br /> +Crawford, Eleanor, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 389.<br /> +<br /> +Crawford, F. Marion, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 130, 254, 255, 362; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 28, 31, 65, 69-71, 80, 81, 84, 240, 362, 376, 389.<br /> +<br /> +Crawford, Mrs. F. M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 240.<br /> +<br /> +Crawford, Harold, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 240.<br /> +<br /> +Crawford, Louisa W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 18, 19, 30, 34, 35, 58, 59, 70, 78, 79, 95, 103, 115, 118, 130, 134.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letters to, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 81, 84, 88, 92, 110, 111, 113-17, 119-22, 125-29, 130, 131, 155-59, 168, 170-72.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>See also</i> Terry, Louisa.</span><br /> +<br /> +Crawford, Thomas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 41, 95, 115; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 55, 389.<br /> +<br /> +Crete, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 260-62, 264, 275-77, 278, 287; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43, 44, 225, 394.<br /> +<br /> +Crimea, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 294.<br /> +<br /> +Crimean War, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 189.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Critic, N.Y.</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 66.<br /> +<br /> +Crothers, S. McC., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 320.<br /> +<br /> +Crusaders, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 15.<br /> +<br /> +Cuba, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 173, 176, 177, 326.<br /> +<br /> +Cuckson, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 203.<br /> +<br /> +Cumberland Lakes, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 92.<br /> +<br /> +Curiel, Señor, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 324.<br /> +<br /> +Curtis, G. W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 143, 159, 160; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 93.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 147.</span><br /> +<br /> +Cushing, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 74, 75.<br /> +<br /> +Cushing, Louisa, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 227.<br /> +<br /> +Cushman, Charlotte, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 204; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 345.<br /> +<br /> +Cutler, B. C., Sr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10, 13, 17.<br /> +<br /> +Cutler, B. C., 2d, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 27, 28, 38, 39, 107; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 222, 364.<br /> +<br /> +Cutler, Eliza. <i>See</i> Francis.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421b" id="Page_421b">[421]</a></span>Cutler, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Cutler, Julia. <i>See</i> Ward.<br /> +<br /> +Cutler, Louisa. <i>See</i> McAllister.<br /> +<br /> +Cutler, Sarah M. H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10, 12, 13, 17, 39, 40, 42; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 319.<br /> +<br /> +Cyclades, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 272.<br /> +<br /> +Cyprus, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 42.<br /> +<br /> +Czerwinsk, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 12, 13, 14.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Dana, R. H., Jr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 226.<br /> +<br /> +D'Annunzio, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 285.<br /> +<br /> +Dante, Alighieri, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 174, 330; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 26, 27, 120,357.<br /> +<br /> +Dantzig, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 15, 18.<br /> +<br /> +Daubigny, C. F., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Daughters of the American Revolution, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 179, 194, 351.<br /> +<br /> +Davenport, E. L., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 204.<br /> +<br /> +Davidson, Thomas, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 128.<br /> +<br /> +Davidson, Wm., letter of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 390.<br /> +<br /> +Davis, James C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 201, 251.<br /> +<br /> +Davis, Jefferson, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 222.<br /> +<br /> +Davis, Mary F., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Davis, Theodore, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 251.<br /> +<br /> +Dead Sea, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 38, 39.<br /> +<br /> +Declaration of Independence, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +DeKoven, Reginald, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 195.<br /> +<br /> +Deland, Lorin, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 332, 333.<br /> +<br /> +Deland, Margaret, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 303, 332.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Delineator</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 381.<br /> +<br /> +DeLong, G. W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 322, 325.<br /> +<br /> +Demesmaker. <i>See</i> Cutler, John.<br /> +<br /> +Denver, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 152, 153.<br /> +<br /> +Descartes, René, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 397.<br /> +<br /> +Desgrange, Mme., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 240.<br /> +<br /> +Detroit, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 141.<br /> +<br /> +Devonshire, Duchess of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Devonshire, Wm. Cavendish, Duke of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +DeWars, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 224.<br /> +<br /> +Diana, Temple of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Diaz, Abby M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 323.<br /> +<br /> +Dickens, Catherine, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 85.<br /> +<br /> +Dickens, Charles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 71, 81, 83, 84, 87, 286.<br /> +<br /> +Diman, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Dirschau, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 14.<br /> +<br /> +Dix, Dorothea, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 73.<br /> +<br /> +Dole, N. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 273.<br /> +<br /> +Donald, Dr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 199, 200, 203.<br /> +<br /> +Doolittle, Senator, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Doré, Gustave, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 248.<br /> +<br /> +Dorr, Mary W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 74, 128, 214.<br /> +<br /> +Downer, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 362.<br /> +<br /> +Doyle, Lt., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 104.<br /> +<br /> +Draper, Gov., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 253.<br /> +<br /> +Dresel, Otto, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 245; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 375.<br /> +<br /> +Dublin, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 88, 90.<br /> +<br /> +Dubois, Prof., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 261, 262.<br /> +<br /> +DuMaurier, George, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Dunbar, P. L., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 261.<br /> +<br /> +Dunbar, Mrs. P. L., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 262.<br /> +<br /> +Duncan, W. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 96.<br /> +<br /> +Dunkirk, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 121.<br /> +<br /> +Duse, Eleanore, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 223.<br /> +<br /> +Dwight, J. S., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 265; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 129, 150, 157.<br /> +<br /> +Dwight, Mary, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 74.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Eames, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 247.<br /> +<br /> +Eames, Mrs., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 238, 246.<br /> +<br /> +Eastburn, Manton, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 70, 107.<br /> +<br /> +Eddy, Sarah, J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 126.<br /> +<br /> +Edgeworth, Maria, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 89, 90.<br /> +<br /> +Edgeworthtown, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 88.<br /> +<br /> +Edward VII, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Eels, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 262.<br /> +<br /> +Egypt, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34, 38.<br /> +<br /> +Eliot, Charles W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 355, 356.<br /> +<br /> +Eliot, Samuel, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 92, 126, 194, 288.<br /> +<br /> +Eliot, Mrs. Samuel, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 194.<br /> +<br /> +Eliot, S. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 265, 275, 299.<br /> +<br /> +Elliott, John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 125, 131, 164, 165, 234, 239, 240, 256, 287, 295, 298, 303, 312, 408.<br /> +<br /> +Elliott, Maud Howe, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 112, 146, 166, 205, 217, 219, 222, 228, 265, 317, 322, 329, 332, 334, 339, 342, 343, 346, 348, 353, 366; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4, 7, 9, 28, 31, 36, 44, 57, 61, 62, 65, 67, 68-71, 73, 83, 90, 94, 98, 101, 113-15, 119, 122, 125, 131, 132, 138, 146, 158, 164, 169, 182, 207, 234, 236, 238, 240, 241, 244, 247, 249, 251, 255, 256, 281, 284, 285, 288, 290, 292, 294, 295, 298, 302-04, 312-14, 318, 320, 322, 324, 328, 340, 341, 363, 369, 370, 381, 397, 399, 404, 405, 408, 410, 414.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letters to, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 132, 138, 139, 155, 156, 193, 195-200, 202, 217, 218, 220, 224, 226, 227, 231.</span><br /> +<br /> +Elmira Reformatory, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 107.<br /> +<br /> +Elssler, Fanny, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Elsteth, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 349; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 57.<br /> +<br /> +Embley, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97.<br /> +<br /> +Emerson, Miss, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 224.<br /> +<br /> +Emerson, Edward, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 378.<br /> +<br /> +Emerson, R. W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 70, 72, 87, 139, 140, 177, 209, 290; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 10, 50, 56, 61, 76, 77, 120, 137, 143, 250, 263, 304, 363.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 139.</span><br /> +<br /> +Emerson, Mrs. R. W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 61, 76, 87.<br /> +<br /> +England, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 85, 93, 312; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9, 10, 21, 164, 296.<br /> +<br /> +England, Church of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 174.<br /> +<br /> +Ephesus, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Europe, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 138; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4, 12, 188.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>See also</i> separate countries.</span><br /> +<br /> +Evangelides, Christy, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 42, 272.<br /> +<br /> +Evans, Lawrence, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 324.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Evening Express, Newport</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 54.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Evening Post, N. Y.</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 156.<br /> +<br /> +Everett, Edward, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87, 168, 210, 211; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 317.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Fairchild, Sarah, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 157.<br /> +<br /> +Faneuil Hall, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 88, 190.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422b" id="Page_422b">[422]</a></span>Fano, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 272.<br /> +<br /> +Farinata, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 174.<br /> +<br /> +Farman, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 36.<br /> +<br /> +Farrar, Canon, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 252.<br /> +<br /> +Fast Day, abolition of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 193.<br /> +<br /> +Faucit, Helen, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Fellows, Sir Charles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 85.<br /> +<br /> +Feltham, Owen, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 13, 40.<br /> +<br /> +Felton, Cornelius, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 74, 120; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 44.<br /> +<br /> +Felton, Mrs. Cornelius, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 124; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43, 228.<br /> +<br /> +Félu, Charles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 279, 280; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 12, 173.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Female Poets of America</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17, 131.<br /> +<br /> +Fenn, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 181.<br /> +<br /> +Fenollosa, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Fern, Fanny, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 48.<br /> +<br /> +Ferney, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 22, 23.<br /> +<br /> +Ferrette, Bishop, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 353.<br /> +<br /> +Fessenden, W. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Fichte, J. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 196, 197, 250, 252, 253, 255-59, 263, 286, 287, 298.<br /> +<br /> +Field, Mrs. D. D., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 134.<br /> +<br /> +Field, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 227.<br /> +<br /> +Field, Kate, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 48.<br /> +<br /> +Fields, Annie, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187, 228, 299, 317, 344, 378.<br /> +<br /> +Fields, J. T., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 137, 143, 262.<br /> +<br /> +Fisher, Dr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 113, 114.<br /> +<br /> +Fiske, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 312, 344.<br /> +<br /> +Fitch, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 376.<br /> +<br /> +Fitch, Clyde, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Fitz, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 62.<br /> +<br /> +Five of Clubs, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 74, 110, 128; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 74.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Flibbertigibbet</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 144, 145, 367.<br /> +<br /> +Florence, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 175.<br /> +<br /> +Florida, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 268.<br /> +<br /> +Flower, Constance, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Flynt, Baker, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 230.<br /> +<br /> +Foley, Margaret, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 227, 237.<br /> +<br /> +Forbes, John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 279.<br /> +<br /> +Forbes, John M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 109, 177.<br /> +<br /> +Foresti, Felice, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94, 104.<br /> +<br /> +Fort Independence, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 346.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Forum</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 182.<br /> +<br /> +Foster, L. S., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 248.<br /> +<br /> +Foulke, Dudley, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 365; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 188.<br /> +<br /> +Foundling Hospital, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Fowler, O. S., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 98, 99.<br /> +<br /> +Fox, Charles, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 265.<br /> +<br /> +France, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 131, 300, 308, 310; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9, 20, 26, 34.<br /> +<br /> +Francis, Eliza C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 18, 25, 26, 27, 31, 42, 103, 150, 230; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 319.<br /> +<br /> +Francis, J. W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 18, 19, 26, 27, 36, 42, 57, 114, 150; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 251.<br /> +<br /> +Francis, V. M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 362.<br /> +<br /> +Franco-Prussian War, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 300; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 13, 20.<br /> +<br /> +Franklin, Benjamin, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Fredericksburg, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 192.<br /> +<br /> +Free Religious Club. <i>See</i> Radical Club.<br /> +<br /> +Freeman, Edward, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 95, 134.<br /> +<br /> +Freeman, Mrs. Edward, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 95, 134.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Fremdenblatt</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 19.<br /> +<br /> +French Revolution, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Fries, Wulf, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 145.<br /> +<br /> +<i>From the Oak to the Olive</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 265, 269.<br /> +<br /> +Frothingham, Octavius, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Froude, J. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 86.<br /> +<br /> +Fuller, Margaret, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 69, 72, 87, 346; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 76, 84, 85, 86, 142, 404, 405.<br /> +<br /> +Furness, W. H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Gainsborough, Lady, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Gallup, Charles, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 310.<br /> +<br /> +Galveston, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 279.<br /> +<br /> +Gambetta, Léon, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 25.<br /> +<br /> +Garcia method, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 43.<br /> +<br /> +Gardiner, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 122, 163, 194, 337.<br /> +<br /> +Gardiner, J. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 267.<br /> +<br /> +Gardner, Mrs. Jack, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 70, 82, 150, 182, 192.<br /> +<br /> +Garfield, J. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 69.<br /> +<br /> +Garibaldi, Giuseppe, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 242.<br /> +<br /> +Garrett, Thomas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 151.<br /> +<br /> +Garrison, F. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187, 218, 411.<br /> +<br /> +Garrison, W. L., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 240, 345, 362; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 45, 108, 187, 190.<br /> +<br /> +Gautier, Señor, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 325, 332.<br /> +<br /> +Gay, Willard, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 298.<br /> +<br /> +Gayarré, Judge, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 103.<br /> +<br /> +Geddes, Pres., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 357.<br /> +<br /> +General Federation of Women's Clubs, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 294, 295, 384; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 182, 195, 207, 379.<br /> +<br /> +Geneva, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 278, 345; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20, 22, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Gennadius, John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +George I, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 44.<br /> +<br /> +George IV, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 262.<br /> +<br /> +George, Henry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247.<br /> +<br /> +Georgetown, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Germany, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 147, 197; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 18, 19.<br /> +<br /> +Gethsemane, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 41.<br /> +<br /> +Gettysburg, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 189.<br /> +<br /> +Giachetti, Baron, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 246.<br /> +<br /> +Giachetti, Baroness, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 246.<br /> +<br /> +Gibbs, Augusta, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 121.<br /> +<br /> +Gilbert, W. S., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Gilder, R. W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 264, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Gillow, Mgr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 103.<br /> +<br /> +Gilmore, P. S., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 223.<br /> +<br /> +Gilmour, J. R., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 254, 255.<br /> +<br /> +Gladstone, Commander, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +Gladstone, W. E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 6, 7.<br /> +<br /> +Gladstone, Mrs. W. E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Glover, Russell, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 54, 55.<br /> +<br /> +Goddard, Mrs. Wm., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 393.<br /> +<br /> +Godiva, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 173.<br /> +<br /> +Godkin, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 202.<br /> +<br /> +Godwin, Parke, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 198.<br /> +<br /> +Goethe, J. W. von, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 67; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 32.<br /> +<br /> +Goldsmith, Mrs. Julian, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Gonfalonieri, Count, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94.<br /> +<br /> +Goodwin, W. W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 47, 48.<br /> +<br /> +Gordon, G. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 203.<br /> +<br /> +Goschen, Edward, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Gosse, Edmund, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423b" id="Page_423b">[423]</a></span>Gosse, Mrs. Edmund, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Graham, Isabella, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17.<br /> +<br /> +Grand Army of the Republic, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 135, 387.<br /> +<br /> +Grant, Robert, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 320.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Verse by, 335.</span><br /> +<br /> +Grant, U.S., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 213, 237, 246, 320; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 25, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Grant, Mrs. U. S., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Granville, G. G. Leveson-Gower, Earl, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Grasshopper, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 382.<br /> +<br /> +Graves, Mary H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 388-90; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 117, 118, 184, 324, 386.<br /> +<br /> +Gray, Thomas, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +Greece, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 72, 73, 246, 248, 262, 263, 267, 272, 275, 278, 297, 308, 364; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 225.<br /> +<br /> +Greek Revolution, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 72, 118, 261.<br /> +<br /> +Greeley, Isabel, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 101.<br /> +<br /> +Green, J. R., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Green, Mrs. J. R., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 300.<br /> +<br /> +Green Peace, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 111-13, 119, 121, 125, 128, 129, 146, 147, 150, 151, 154, 163, 194, 283, 339, 355, 356.<br /> +<br /> +Green Peace, new, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 364, 381.<br /> +<br /> +Greene, Nancy, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 9, 78.<br /> +<br /> +Greene, Nathanael, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Greene, Nathanael, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 220.<br /> +<br /> +Greene, Phœbe, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6, 65.<br /> +<br /> +Greene, Gov. Wm., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Greene, Wm., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Greene, Wm. B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 366.<br /> +<br /> +Greenhalge, Frederick, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 191, 200.<br /> +<br /> +Gregory XVI, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 95.<br /> +<br /> +Griggs, E. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 297.<br /> +<br /> +Grisi, Giulia, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 86, 87, 316; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 250, 350.<br /> +<br /> +Griswold, Rufus, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17, 131.<br /> +<br /> +Groton, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 62.<br /> +<br /> +Guild, Mrs. Charles, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 295.<br /> +<br /> +Guild, Sam, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 124.<br /> +<br /> +Guizot, F. P. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97, 272.<br /> +<br /> +Gulesian, N. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 190, 216.<br /> +<br /> +Gurowski, Count, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 246, 259.<br /> +<br /> +Gustine, Mrs., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 386, 387.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Hague, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 10, 11, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Hague Conferences, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 381.<br /> +<br /> +Hahn, Dr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 272.<br /> +<br /> +Hale, E. E., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 294; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 62, 75, 81, 150, 194, 268, 272, 273, 299, 364.<br /> +<br /> +Hale, Sarah, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 128.<br /> +<br /> +Halifax, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 80.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, Alice, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 294, 339, 362.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, Anne, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 64.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, Caroline. <i>See</i> Birckhead.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, D. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 263, 297; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 294, 340, 362, 363, 368.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, Eleanor, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 385.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, Florence Howe, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 112-17, 119, 122, 126, 128, 133, 147, 161, 163, 169, 170, 196, 201, 202, 216, 222, 237, 238, 263, 265, 277, 279, 297, 340, 341, 343, 349; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 46, 57, 67, 68, 116, 119, 123, 124, 158, 195, 196, 206, 207, 208, 221, 235, 294, 302, 316, 339, 344, 375, 410.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letters to, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 92, 362.</span><br /> +<br /> +Hall, Frances, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 339, 362.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, H. M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 67, 294, 313, 324, 339.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, J. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 67, 68, 98, 293.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, Julia W. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 313.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, Prescott, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 41.<br /> +<br /> +Hall, S. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 340, 341, 343; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 183.<br /> +<br /> +Hallowell, Mrs. Richard, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 266.<br /> +<br /> +Hals, Franz, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 10.<br /> +<br /> +Hampstead, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Handel, G. F., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 351, 386.<br /> +<br /> +Handel and Haydn Society, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 237, 290.<br /> +<br /> +Hapgood, Norman, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Hare, Augustus, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Harland, Henry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165, 171, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Harland, Mrs. Henry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167, 171, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Harrisburg, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 386.<br /> +<br /> +Hart, Mayor, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 162.<br /> +<br /> +Harte, Bret, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 47.<br /> +<br /> +Hartington, S. C. Cavendish, honorary Marquis, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 44.<br /> +<br /> +Harvard, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 237, 297; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 47, 48, 72, 183, 338, 374.<br /> +<br /> +Harvard Medical School, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 72.<br /> +<br /> +Harvard Musical Concerts, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Havana, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 126, 176.<br /> +<br /> +Haven, Gilbert, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 365.<br /> +<br /> +Hawthorne, Nathaniel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 152; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 325.<br /> +<br /> +Hawthorne, Mrs. Nathaniel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 79, 152.<br /> +<br /> +Haydn, Joseph, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 286.<br /> +<br /> +Hayti, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 331.<br /> +<br /> +Hazeltine, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 248.<br /> +<br /> +Healy, G. P. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 25.<br /> +<br /> +Healy, Mrs. G. P. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 25, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Hedge, Frederick, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 207, 236, 290, 346, 347; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 139, 206, 236, 347.<br /> +<br /> +Hegel, G. W. F., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 196, 197, 240, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Heidelberg, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 174.<br /> +<br /> +Helbig, Mme., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 239, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Hemenway, Mary, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 193.<br /> +<br /> +Henderson, L. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 294, 298.<br /> +<br /> +Henschel, Georg, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 71.<br /> +<br /> +Heredity, influence of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 1, 14.<br /> +<br /> +Herford, Brooke, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 127, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Herford, Mrs. Brooke, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Herkomer, Hubert, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Herlihy, Dan, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 322, 323.<br /> +<br /> +Herodotus, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 36, 37.<br /> +<br /> +Heron, Matilda, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 143, 144.<br /> +<br /> +Heywood, J. C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 244, 245.<br /> +<br /> +Heywood, Mrs. J. C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 244.<br /> +<br /> +Higginson, T. W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 227, 286, 362, 364, 365; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 48, 49, 60, 81, 88, 187, 259, 271-274, 302, 320, 335-37, 346, 354-56, 366, 387, 400.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Verse by, 335.</span><br /> +<br /> +Higher education of women, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 361, 362; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 21.<br /> +<br /> +Hill, Arthur D., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 406.<br /> +<br /> +Hill, Thomas, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 326.<br /> +<br /> +Hillard, George, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 71, 74, 120, 128, 151.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424b" id="Page_424b">[424]</a></span><i>Hippolytus</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 203, 204, 205; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 345.<br /> +<br /> +Hoar, G. F., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 109, 210, 219, 292, 293, 299.<br /> +<br /> +Hodges, George, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 320.<br /> +<br /> +Hohenlohe, Cardinal, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 241.<br /> +<br /> +Holland, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 10, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Holland, J. G., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 47, 77.<br /> +<br /> +Holmes, O. W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 140-42, 207-11, 262, 286, 294; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 66, 70, 80, 93, 146, 147, 163, 272, 389.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Verse by, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 140.</span><br /> +<br /> +Homans, Mrs. Charles, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 99, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Home Rule, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4, 166.<br /> +<br /> +Homer, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 323; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Hooker, Joseph, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 192.<br /> +<br /> +Hooper, Ellen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 142.<br /> +<br /> +Hooper, Samuel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Hopedale, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 253.<br /> +<br /> +Horace, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 153, 192; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 374, 382.<br /> +<br /> +Horry, Peter, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10, 11, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Horticulture, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 23, 24.<br /> +<br /> +Hosmer, Harriet G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 271.<br /> +<br /> +Hosmer, Martha, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 325.<br /> +<br /> +Houghton, R. M. Milnes, Lord, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 82, 84, 85; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Howard, Charles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267.<br /> +<br /> +Howard, Lady Mary, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 85.<br /> +<br /> +Howard Athenæum, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 204, 225.<br /> +<br /> +Howe, Senator, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Howe, Fannie, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 298; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 80, 87, 201, 227, 266, 351, 364.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter to, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 338.</span><br /> +<br /> +Howe, Florence. <i>See</i> Hall.<br /> +<br /> +Howe, H. M., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 130, 131, 228, 237, 238, 265, 297, 298; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 71, 80, 84, 87, 119, 150, 201, 202, 227, 235, 266, 278, 283, 338, 346, 350, 351, 413.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter to, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 397.</span><br /> +<br /> +Howe, J. N., Sr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 364.<br /> +<br /> +Howe, J. N., Jr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 258.<br /> +<br /> +Howe, Julia R. <i>See</i> Anagnos.<br /> +<br /> +Howe, Julia Ward, ancestry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 3-17;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">birth, 18;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">childhood, 18-39;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">early verse, 33-35;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">girlhood, 41-60;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">father's death, 61-64;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">first published writing, 65;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">brother Henry's death, 66;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">first philosophical studies, 67-70;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">engagement and marriage, 72-78;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">trip to Europe, 79-100;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">birth of first child, 96;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">settles at South Boston, 102-07;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at Green Peace, 111, 112;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">birth of second daughter, 112;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">brother Marion's death, 130;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">birth of first son, 130,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of third daughter, 133;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">second trip to Europe, 133-35;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">publication of <i>Passion Flowers</i>, 136-44,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of <i>Words for the Hour</i>, 144,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and of <i>The World's Own</i>, 144-45;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">edits paper for her children, 162-64;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">trip to Cuba, 173-76;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">publication of <i>A Trip to Cuba</i>, 176;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Tribune</i> letters, 176;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">birth and death of second son, 178-84;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">writing of <i>Battle Hymn</i>, 186-91;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">visit to the army, 192, 193;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">removal to Chestnut St., 194;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">philosophical studies and essays, 195-202, 206, 208, 213-19, 222, 224, 225, 227, 229-31, 236, 249, 250-53, 259;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">writing of <i>Hippolytus</i>, 203-05;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">edits <i>Boatswain's Whistle</i>, 210-12;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">purchase of Boylston Place house, 231-34;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">publication of <i>Later Lyrics</i>, 233, 237;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death of Uncle John, 242;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">edits <i>Northern Lights</i>, 254, 255, 263;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">trip to Greece, 264-82;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>From the Oak to the Olive</i>, 265;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Radical Club, 284-86;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">takes up study of Greek, 287;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">club life, 291-96;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">removal to Mt. Vernon St., and purchase of Oak Glen, 296;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">marriage of three daughters, 297;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">work for peace, 300-07, 309, 312, 318, 319, 332, 345, 346; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8, 77, 326, 327, 359;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">trip to London and Paris, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 312-17;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">two visits to Santo Domingo, 322-38;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">return to Green Peace, 339;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">forms Saturday Morning Club, 343;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">illness and death of husband, 354-57;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">work for suffrage, 358-73; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 61, 89, 99, 126, 151, 192, 216, 268, 322, 343;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">work for A.A.W. I, 373, 374, 383, 384; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43, 91, 97, 152, 256;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">work for woman ministry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 384-92;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">extended European tour, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 2-34;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Egypt, 34-38;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Palestine, 38-42;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Europe, 43-45;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">return to Oak Glen, 46;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">forms Town and Country Club, 47-52;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and the Papéterie, 52, 53;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">incurs permanent lameness, 59;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">returns to Boston, 60;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">publication of <i>Modern Society</i>, 60;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">settles at 241 Beacon St., 71;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">writes memoir of Maria Mitchell, 83;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">publication of <i>Margaret Fuller</i>, 84-86;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death of brother Samuel, 93-95;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">manages Woman's Department at New Orleans Exposition, 99-112;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death of daughter Julia, 115-19;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">visit to California, 131-38;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">publication of song album, 145, 358;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">second visit to California, 154;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">trip to Europe, 164-77;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">attends Columbian Exposition, 178-82;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">work for Russian Freedom, 187, 330,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and for Armenia, 189-92, 209, 210, 216, 218, 324;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death of sister Annie, 202;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">publication of <i>Is Polite Society Polite?</i>, 211-13;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">writing of <i>Reminiscences</i>, 219;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">work for Greece, 225-29;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death of sister Louisa, 235;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">winter in Rome, 237-57;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">publication of <i>From Sunset Ridge</i>, 258,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and of <i>Reminiscences</i>, 258, 259;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">work for prevention of lynching, 265, 266;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">receives degree from Tufts, 324;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death of Michael Anagnos, 347,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of D. P. Hall, 362,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and of Marion Crawford, 389;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">receives degree from Brown, 392;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">decline of health, 407-10;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">receives degree from Smith, 411, 412;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">illness and death, 413, 414.</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425b" id="Page_425b">[425]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Lectures and readings</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 198-200, 209, 218, 228, 230, 239, 240, 251, 256, 264, 284, 290, 291, 342, 344, 350, 379, 385; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 55-57, 61, 62, 66, 82, 87, 88, 91, 99, 103, 120, 121, 130, 132, 136, 198, 201, 215, 224, 229, 246, 247, 263, 274, 284, 288, 316, 387, 396.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Sermons</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 313, 314, 317, 329-33, 336, 386, 391, 392; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 54, 55, 69, 78, 83, 84, 127, 131, 136, 181, 361.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Religious views</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 21, 29, 34, 35, 66-70, 104, 107-09, 185, 207, 208, 252; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 231, 282.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Home life, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 110, 111, 146-55, 216, 217, 296, 298, 347-49; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 98, 144.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sense of relation to the public, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 98, 195, 299, 300, 358, 359.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Linguistic ability, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 32, 45, 59, 318.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dramatic ability, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 29; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 32, 54, 68, 69, 78.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fondness for study, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 32, 45, 46, 67, 104, 125, 134, 156, 287, 288.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Love for music, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 43, 44, 222-24, 237; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 330;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">compositions, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 147, 148; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 144, 145, 358.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Love of fun, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 145; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 370.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Patriotism, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 186-93, 219-22.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fondness for society, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 49-51.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Grandchildren</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 339, 340, 343; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 67, 68, 98, 128, 294, 339, 352.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Great-grandchildren, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 313, 339, 408.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Journal extracts</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 178, 197-202, 205-09, 214-31, 233, 234, 236-42, 244-67, 269, 271, 272, 276-81, 283-91, 306-18, 328-38, 340-47, 349-56, 373, 374, 386-89; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 6, 8-12, 14-18, 20-26, 28-31, 34-41, 43-45, 47, 54-58, 60-63, 65-71, 73-79, 82, 83, 87, 88, 90-94, 96-99, 101, 103-05, 108, 116-18, 120-46, 150-85, 192-94, 197-207, 209-11, 214-20, 222-30, 233-36, 238-57, 259-63, 265-70, 272-308, 311-17, 319, 320, 322-34, 336-68, 375-82, 385, 390, 395, 399-401, 403, 406.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Extracts from works of</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 3, 8, 13, 15, 19, 23, 24, 41, 46, 48, 49, 56, 59, 64-66, 68, 79, 96, 99-103, 106, 130, 135-37, 142, 144, 145, 162-64, 173-76, 179-87, 189, 191-94, 202, 211, 213, 221, 235, 260, 267-71, 273-76, 281-83, 285, 286, 292, 295, 297, 299, 301-05, 313, 316, 319, 320, 323-28, 330, 335, 339, 348, 349, 357-60, 362, 364, 368-72, 374, 376, 378-85, 389, 390; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 3, 4, 6, 18, 24, 25, 28, 30-33, 41, 46-52, 80, 100, 106, 109-11, 143, 164, 186, 189-91, 211-14, 237, 258, 271, 282, 308-10, 320, 336, 340, 342, 346, 359, 369, 378, 382, 393, 401, 403.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Letters of</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 31, 67, 71, 72, 79-82, 84-93, 107-33, 137, 142, 148, 149, 155-62, 164-72, 184, 196, 303; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 58, 59, 63-70, 73, 78, 81-96, 98, 111-14, 119, 122-25, 132, 138, 155-58, 193, 195-200, 202, 203, 206, 208-10, 217, 218, 220, 221, 223, 224, 226, 227, 231, 232, 236, 267, 277, 285, 298-300, 391-93, 396-98.</span><br /> +<br /> +Howe, Laura E. <i>See</i> Richards.<br /> +<br /> +Howe, Maud. <i>See</i> Elliott.<br /> +<br /> +Howe, S. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 72-83, 85, 86, 88-90, 92-95, 97, 101-06, 110, 111, 113-16, 118, 119, 121-24, 126-28, 130, 131, 133, 138, 139, 141, 146-55, 161, 165, 167-70, 173, 177, 178, 181, 184-86, 195, 203, 206, 208, 217, 220, 222, 227, 231, 243, 245, 246, 248-251, 253, 255, 258, 261-65, 267, 273, 275, 278-80, 283, 287, 288, 292, 296-98, 306, 308, 315, 317, 321-25, 334-40, 343, 345, 350, 353-58, 362, 364, 372, 381; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 3, 6, 23, 43-45, 63, 74, 77, 118, 120, 127, 134, 141, 145, 146, 164, 174, 175, 233, 252, 269, 292, 293, 296, 300, 332, 363.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letters and Journals of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 106, 339.</span><br /> +<br /> +Howe, S. G., Jr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 178-85, 199, 200, 207, 220, 234, 250, 290, 298, 352; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 120, 198, 328.<br /> +<br /> +Howe Memorial Club, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 357.<br /> +<br /> +Howells, W. D., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 244; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 66, 399.<br /> +<br /> +Howells, Mrs. W. D., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 244.<br /> +<br /> +Hudson River, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 18.<br /> +<br /> +Hudson-Fulton Centennial, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 395, 396, 398.<br /> +<br /> +Hughes, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Hughes, Thomas, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Hugo, Victor, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 24, 63.<br /> +<br /> +Huguenots, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Hunt, Helen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 48.<br /> +<br /> +Hunt, Louisa, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 230, 245; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 68.<br /> +<br /> +Hunt, Richard, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 230.<br /> +<br /> +Hunt, Wm., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 227, 237; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 99.<br /> +<br /> +Hurlburt, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247, 251.<br /> +<br /> +Hurlburt, J. W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 345.<br /> +<br /> +Hurlburt, S. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 345.<br /> +<br /> +Hyacinthe, Père, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Hyrne, Dr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 12, 13.<br /> +<br /> +Hyrne, Sarah. <i>See</i> Cutler.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Ibsen, Henrik, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 285.<br /> +<br /> +Idaho, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 372.<br /> +<br /> +Iddings, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 250.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Il Circolo Italiano</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 285, 357.<br /> +<br /> +Index Expurgatorius, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 241.<br /> +<br /> +India, English rule in, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 84.<br /> +<br /> +Indiana Place Church, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 259.<br /> +<br /> +Inglis, R. H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 81, 84, 86.<br /> +<br /> +Innsbrück, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 278.<br /> +<br /> +Institute of France, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 23.<br /> +<br /> +Intemperate Women, Home for, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 78, 83, 127.<br /> +<br /> +International Council of Women, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 253, 255.<br /> +<br /> +Iowa, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 113.<br /> +<br /> +Ireland, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 88, 92; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4, 71, 166, 319.<br /> +<br /> +Irving, Henry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 87, 192.<br /> +<br /> +Irwin, Agnes, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34, 302.<br /> +<br /> +Ismail Pasha, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34, 36.<br /> +<br /> +Italy, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94, 175; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 29, 32, 44, 71, 93, 236, 243, 256.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Jackson, Andrew, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 61.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426b" id="Page_426b">[426]</a></span>Jackson, Edward, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 241.<br /> +<br /> +Jaffa, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 41, 42.<br /> +<br /> +Jamaica, L.I., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 19.<br /> +<br /> +James, Henry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 255; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +James, William, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 233, 315, 366.<br /> +<br /> +Jarvis, Edward, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 133.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Jeannette</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 322.<br /> +<br /> +Jefferson, Joseph, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 97.<br /> +<br /> +Jeffries, John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 233.<br /> +<br /> +Jericho, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 38-40.<br /> +<br /> +Jerome, J. K., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Jerusalem, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 378; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 38, 40-42.<br /> +<br /> +Jeter, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 349.<br /> +<br /> +Jewett, M. R., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 316, 317, 356.<br /> +<br /> +Jewett, Sarah O., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 299, 316, 317, 356.<br /> +<br /> +Jews, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 256, 311.<br /> +<br /> +Jocelyn, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 357.<br /> +<br /> +Johnson, Andrew, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 238, 239, 246, 378.<br /> +<br /> +Johnson, Reverdy, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Johnson, Robert U., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 399.<br /> +<br /> +Jones, J. L., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 176, 178, 184.<br /> +<br /> +Jones, Lief, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 166.<br /> +<br /> +Jordan River, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 39.<br /> +<br /> +Jouett, Admiral, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 104, 106.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Kalopothakis, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43.<br /> +<br /> +Kane, Capt., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 104.<br /> +<br /> +Kansas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 168, 170, 381, 382; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 325.<br /> +<br /> +Kansas City, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 122.<br /> +<br /> +Kant, Immanuel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 196, 214, 217, 218, 222, 223, 225, 227, 229, 240, 241, 249, 250, 253, 255; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 19, 62.<br /> +<br /> +Keller, Helen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 262.<br /> +<br /> +Kenmare, Lady, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 251, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Kenmare, Lord, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165.<br /> +<br /> +Kennan, George, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187.<br /> +<br /> +Kennebec River, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Kensett, J. F., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 159.<br /> +<br /> +Kentucky, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 122.<br /> +<br /> +Kenyon, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 85.<br /> +<br /> +Kindergarten for the Blind, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 119, 126, 314, 360.<br /> +<br /> +King, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 208.<br /> +<br /> +King, Charles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 16, 62; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +King, Grace, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 108.<br /> +<br /> +King, Rufus, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +King Philip's War, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 13.<br /> +<br /> +Kipling, Rudyard, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Kneisel, Herr, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 367, 368.<br /> +<br /> +Knowles, F. L., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 340.<br /> +<br /> +Knowles, James, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Kossuth, Mme., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +Kossuth, Louis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 151.<br /> +<br /> +Kreisler, Franz, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 297.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Lablache, Luigi, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 86, 316.<br /> +<br /> +Ladenberg, Emily, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 303.<br /> +<br /> +La Farge, John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 50.<br /> +<br /> +Lafayette, Marquis de, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 93.<br /> +<br /> +Lambeth Library, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Lanciani, Prof., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 246.<br /> +<br /> +Landseer, Edwin, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Lane, Prof., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 47, 48.<br /> +<br /> +Langmaid, Dr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 402.<br /> +<br /> +Langtry, Lily, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Lansdowne, Marchioness of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Lansdowne, Henry Petty-Fitzmaurice, Marquis of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 86, 87.<br /> +<br /> +La Rochelle, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Later Lyrics</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 233, 237, 251, 283; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 60, 194.<br /> +<br /> +Lawrence, Bishop, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 261, 349.<br /> +<br /> +Lawrence, Mrs. Bigelow, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 313.<br /> +<br /> +Lawrence, S. E., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 287.<br /> +<br /> +Lawton's Valley, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 154, 194, 204, 225-27, 235, 249-51, 254, 296.<br /> +<br /> +Layard, Sir Henry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 44.<br /> +<br /> +Leavenworth, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 382.<br /> +<br /> +Lee, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 200.<br /> +<br /> +Lee, Harry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 233.<br /> +<br /> +Lee, R. E., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 213, 219, 274; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 353, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Lefranc, Abel, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 374.<br /> +<br /> +Leigh Smith, Miss, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 239, 243, 252, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Leland, C. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 328; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 50.<br /> +<br /> +Leo XIII, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 241-43.<br /> +<br /> +Leoni, Sig., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 295, 296.<br /> +<br /> +Lesnian, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18.<br /> +<br /> +Lexington, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 256, 259; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 193, 194.<br /> +<br /> +Libby Prison, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 188, 189.<br /> +<br /> +Lieber, Francis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 240.<br /> +<br /> +Lincoln, Abraham, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 189, 195, 211, 212, 220, 221, 228, 274; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 108, 308, 387.<br /> +<br /> +Lincoln, R. T., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 166, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Lippitt, Gov., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 221.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Listener</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 162-64.<br /> +<br /> +Liszt, Franz, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 270.<br /> +<br /> +Littlehale, M. F., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 324.<br /> +<br /> +Livermore, Mary A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 18, 20, 125, 229.<br /> +<br /> +Liverpool, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 280; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 69, 164.<br /> +<br /> +Livy, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 202, 227, 228.<br /> +<br /> +Loch Katrine, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 92.<br /> +<br /> +Locke, W. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 386.<br /> +<br /> +Lodge, H. C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Lodge, Mrs. H. C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Loisy, Abbé, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 325.<br /> +<br /> +Lombroso, Cesar, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 285.<br /> +<br /> +London, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 81, 265, 312; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4, 45, 164, 166.<br /> +<br /> +Long, J. D., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 196, 302, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Long Island, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 19.<br /> +<br /> +Longfellow, Fanny, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 71, 159, 160.<br /> +<br /> +Longfellow, H. W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 59, 71, 74, 76, 77, 138, 148, 159, 160, 262, 380; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 63, 74, 125, 167, 196, 304, 356.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 76.</span><br /> +<br /> +Longfellow, Wadsworth, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 359.<br /> +<br /> +Longy, M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 330.<br /> +<br /> +Lorne. <i>See</i> Argyll, ninth duke of.<br /> +<br /> +Loud, J. M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 358, 368.<br /> +<br /> +Loudon, John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 244.<br /> +<br /> +Louis XVI, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 7, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Louisville, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Louvre, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 7.<br /> +<br /> +Love, Alfred, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Low, Seth, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 381.<br /> +<br /> +Lowell, J. R., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 156, 210, 262; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 63, 171, 187.<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427b" id="Page_427b">[427]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 149.</span><br /> +<br /> +Loyson, M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Luquer, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 364.<br /> +<br /> +Lynch, Dominick, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 364.<br /> +<br /> +Lyons, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 191.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Mabilleau, M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 314.<br /> +<br /> +McAllister, Julia, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34.<br /> +<br /> +McAllister, Louisa, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 42, 158, 230.<br /> +<br /> +McAllister, M. H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 42.<br /> +<br /> +McAlvin, Miss, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 194.<br /> +<br /> +McCabe, C. C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 188, 189.<br /> +<br /> +McCarthy, Frank, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 61, 62.<br /> +<br /> +McCarthy, Justin, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +McCarthy, Mrs. Justin, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +McCready, Tom, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 295.<br /> +<br /> +McCreary, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 250.<br /> +<br /> +McDonald, Alexander, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +McGregor, Fanny, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 201.<br /> +<br /> +Machiavelli, Niccolo, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 275.<br /> +<br /> +McKaye, Baron, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 258, 267.<br /> +<br /> +McKinley, William, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 265, 290.<br /> +<br /> +McLaren, Eva, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 166.<br /> +<br /> +MacMahon, M. E. P. M. de, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Macready, W. C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +McTavish, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Madrid, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 328; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243, 353.<br /> +<br /> +Maggi, Count Alberto, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 255.<br /> +<br /> +Mailliard, Adolphe, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 117, 135; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 222.<br /> +<br /> +Mailliard, Annie, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 18, 21, 30, 34-36, 54, 58, 60, 78-81, 83-85, 93, 117, 134, 135, 137, 157, 200, 240, 241; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 67, 94, 131, 135, 155, 202, 203, 216, 235.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>Letters to</i>, 107-09, 117, 118, 122-25, 127, 131-33, 137, 142, 159-62, 164-72, 184.</span><br /> +<br /> +Maine, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 392; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 122.<br /> +<br /> +Maine, Sir H. J. Sumner, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 249, 250.<br /> +<br /> +Malibran, Mme. de (Maria Felicita Garcia), <span class="smcap">I</span>, 29; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 270, 350.<br /> +<br /> +Mallock, W. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Mammoth Cave, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 122.<br /> +<br /> +Manatt, E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 293.<br /> +<br /> +Mancini, Sig., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Manhattan, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 243.<br /> +<br /> +Manila, Battle of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Mann, Horace, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 73, 79, 83, 94, 121, 123, 169, 185, 227.<br /> +<br /> +Mann, Mary P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 79, 80, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Manning, H. E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165.<br /> +<br /> +Mansfield, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 378.<br /> +<br /> +Mansfield, Richard, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8, 313.<br /> +<br /> +Mansion House, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Mapleson, Col., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 103.<br /> +<br /> +Margherita, Queen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 30, 248, 277.<br /> +<br /> +Marié, Peter, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 54, 202.<br /> +<br /> +Marienburg, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 14.<br /> +<br /> +Mariette, A. E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 36.<br /> +<br /> +Mario (Marchese di Candia), <span class="smcap">I</span>, 86, 87 316; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 250, 350.<br /> +<br /> +Marion, Benjamin, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10-12.<br /> +<br /> +Marion, Esther, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Marion, Francis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10-14; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 351.<br /> +<br /> +Marion, Gabriel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Marion, Judith, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 11, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Marion, Peter, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Marne, M., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 328.<br /> +<br /> +Marsaba, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 38, 41.<br /> +<br /> +Marseilles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97.<br /> +<br /> +Marshalsea, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 83.<br /> +<br /> +Martin, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Martineau, James, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 159, 161, 348.<br /> +<br /> +Marzials, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +Massachusetts, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 129, 168, 195, 249; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 358.<br /> +<br /> +Massachusetts Institute of Technology, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 297; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 77, 80.<br /> +<br /> +Massachusetts Legislature, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 168, 220, 344, 366, 368; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 405.<br /> +<br /> +Massachusetts Press Club, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 259.<br /> +<br /> +Massachusetts State Federation of Women's Clubs, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 294; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 379.<br /> +<br /> +Massachusetts Woman Suffrage Association, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 369.<br /> +<br /> +Matsys, Quentin, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11.<br /> +<br /> +Maupassant, Guy de, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 164.<br /> +<br /> +May, Abby W., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 287, 368; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 141, 142.<br /> +<br /> +Mayor des Planches, Count, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 302, 303.<br /> +<br /> +Mechanics' Fair, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 162.<br /> +<br /> +Mechlenberg, Herr von, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 18.<br /> +<br /> +Medal of Honor Legion, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 279.<br /> +<br /> +Mediterranean, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 381.<br /> +<br /> +Mendota, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 380.<br /> +<br /> +Mer de Glace, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20.<br /> +<br /> +Merritt, Anna Lea, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165.<br /> +<br /> +Mesday, Herr, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 172.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Messiah</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8, 78.<br /> +<br /> +Metaphysical Club, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 118.<br /> +<br /> +Mexican Band, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 100, 103, 105.<br /> +<br /> +Mexican War, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 129.<br /> +<br /> +Middletown, R.I., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Milan, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 93; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Mill, J. S., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 304; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 22.<br /> +<br /> +Miller, Joaquin, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 103.<br /> +<br /> +Mills, Arthur, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 99, 266; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165.<br /> +<br /> +Milman, H. M., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267.<br /> +<br /> +Milnes. <i>See</i> Houghton.<br /> +<br /> +Milton, John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 21, 137.<br /> +<br /> +Minneapolis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 378, 379; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 87, 274.<br /> +<br /> +Minnehaha, Falls of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 380.<br /> +<br /> +Minnesota, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 378, 380, 381, 392.<br /> +<br /> +Minturn, Jonas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 22.<br /> +<br /> +Mississippi, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 92.<br /> +<br /> +Mississippi River, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 380; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 100.<br /> +<br /> +Mitchell, Ellen, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 374.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letters to, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 391, 392.</span><br /> +<br /> +Mitchell, Maria, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 343, 373; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 82, 83.<br /> +<br /> +Mitchell, S. Weir, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 50.<br /> +<br /> +Mitchell, Thomas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10, 12.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Modern Society</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 60.<br /> +<br /> +Molloy, J. F., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Moltke, Count Hellmuth, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20.<br /> +<br /> +Momery, Dr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 184.<br /> +<br /> +Money, trade in, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 16.<br /> +<br /> +Monroe, Harriet, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 251.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428b" id="Page_428b">[428]</a></span>Monson, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 250.<br /> +<br /> +Mont Isabel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 322.<br /> +<br /> +Montagu, Basil, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 81, 85.<br /> +<br /> +Montagu, Mrs. Basil, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 85.<br /> +<br /> +Montgomery, Richard, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Montpelier, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 68.<br /> +<br /> +Montreal, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 38.<br /> +<br /> +Montreux, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 176.<br /> +<br /> +Moore, Prof., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 154.<br /> +<br /> +Moore, Rebecca, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Moore, Thomas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Mormon Tabernacle, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 137.<br /> +<br /> +Morpeth. <i>See</i> Carlisle, Earl of.<br /> +<br /> +Morris, Gouverneur, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 7, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Morse, E. S., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Morse, William, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 108.<br /> +<br /> +Mosby, John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 253.<br /> +<br /> +Mothers' Peace Day, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 318, 319, 345.<br /> +<br /> +Mott, Lucretia, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 285, 304; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 108.<br /> +<br /> +Moulton, Louise C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 161, 169, 171, 273.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Verse by, 335.</span><br /> +<br /> +Mounet-Sully, Jean, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 195.<br /> +<br /> +Mt. Auburn, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 183; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 290, 294.<br /> +<br /> +Mt. Holyoke, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 251.<br /> +<br /> +Mozart, W. A., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 45; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 351.<br /> +<br /> +Mozier, Joseph, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 271.<br /> +<br /> +Mozumdar, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Munich, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 278.<br /> +<br /> +Murray, Gilbert, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 361.<br /> +<br /> +Murray, Lady Mary, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 361.<br /> +<br /> +Music, power of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 44.<br /> +<br /> +Musical Festivals, Boston, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 222, 223, 225, 227, 290.<br /> +<br /> +Mycenæ, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 43.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Nantes, revocation of Edict of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 10.<br /> +<br /> +Naples, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 53, 54, 97; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 30.<br /> +<br /> +Napoleon I, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 229, 230, 278; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 102, 284.<br /> +<br /> +Napoleon II, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Napoleon III, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 300, 301, 310.<br /> +<br /> +National American Woman Suffrage Association, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 365.<br /> +<br /> +National Gallery, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 314.<br /> +<br /> +National Peace Society, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 43.<br /> +<br /> +National Sailors' Home, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 210.<br /> +<br /> +National Woman Suffrage Association, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 365.<br /> +<br /> +Nativity, Grotto of the, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 38.<br /> +<br /> +Nauplia, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 275-77.<br /> +<br /> +Nebraska, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 138.<br /> +<br /> +Nelson, Horatio, Lord, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 248.<br /> +<br /> +Nelson, Jenny, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 194.<br /> +<br /> +New Bedford, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 99.<br /> +<br /> +New England, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 168, 173, 290, 324; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 80.<br /> +<br /> +New England Woman's Club, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 190, 291, 292, 294, 305, 310, 311, 341, 353, 365, 369; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 54, 73, 100, 118, 129, 141, 150, 215, 259, 263, 286, 301, 311, 356, 401.<br /> +<br /> +New England Woman Suffrage Association, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 363, 364.<br /> +<br /> +New England Women's Press Association, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 263.<br /> +<br /> +New Gallery, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171.<br /> +<br /> +New Orleans, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 100, 108-11, 113, 178, 207.<br /> +<br /> +New Orleans Exposition, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 87, 99, 100-12.<br /> +<br /> +New York City, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 16, 22, 26, 39, 61, 63, 103, 240, 243; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 114, 115.<br /> +<br /> +New York University, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17.<br /> +<br /> +New Zealand, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 133.<br /> +<br /> +Newport, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4, 24, 34, 38, 39, 52-54, 63, 151, 159, 160, 162, 176, 199, 208, 209, 226, 291, 296, 349; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 46, 47, 49-51, 54-56, 78, 90, 128, 138, 140, 143, 145, 151, 160, 162, 177, 198, 208.<br /> +<br /> +Newport Historical Society, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 78.<br /> +<br /> +Niagara, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 18, 19; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 19.<br /> +<br /> +Nicholas II, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 283.<br /> +<br /> +Nightingale, Florence, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97, 112, 113, 294; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 189, 239.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 112.</span><br /> +<br /> +Nile, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 266; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 35, 36.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Nineteenth Century</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 248.<br /> +<br /> +Norman, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 90, 93.<br /> +<br /> +Norman, Bradford, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 379.<br /> +<br /> +<i>North American Review</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 121.<br /> +<br /> +North Church, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 193.<br /> +<br /> +Northampton, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 251, 259.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Northern Lights</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 254, 255, 263.<br /> +<br /> +Norton, Mrs., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 82, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Norton, Charles Eliot, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 198.<br /> +<br /> +Norton, Richard, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243.<br /> +<br /> +Novelli, E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 357.<br /> +<br /> +Novelli, Mme., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 357.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Oak Glen, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 296, 317, 339, 340, 347, 349; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 46, 67, 69, 72, 114, 120, 158, 374.<br /> +<br /> +Oakland, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 136.<br /> +<br /> +Oakley, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 154.<br /> +<br /> +Oberlin, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 361.<br /> +<br /> +O'Connell, Cardinal, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 244.<br /> +<br /> +O'Connell, Daniel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 90, 91.<br /> +<br /> +O'Connell, Dennis, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247, 250.<br /> +<br /> +O'Connor, F. E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +O'Connor, Mrs. T. P., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Old South Church, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 14; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 194.<br /> +<br /> +Olga, Queen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43.<br /> +<br /> +Olives, Mount of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 38, 40, 41.<br /> +<br /> +Olympia, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 133, 134.<br /> +<br /> +Olympus, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 290.<br /> +<br /> +Osny Effendi, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 37.<br /> +<br /> +O'Sullivan, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 329; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 319.<br /> +<br /> +Otis, Mrs. H. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 123.<br /> +<br /> +Ouida (Louise de la Ramée), <span class="smcap">II</span>, 121.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Outlook</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 355.<br /> +<br /> +Owatonna, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 378.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Pacific, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 75.<br /> +<br /> +Paddock, Mary, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 197, 350.<br /> +<br /> +Paderewski, Ignace, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171, 210, 240.<br /> +<br /> +Page, Miss, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 216.<br /> +<br /> +Page, T. N., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 399.<br /> +<br /> +Pajarita, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 323.<br /> +<br /> +Palestine, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 42, 322.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429b" id="Page_429b">[429]</a></span>Paley's <i>Moral Philosophy</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 32.<br /> +<br /> +Palfrey, J. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 207.<br /> +<br /> +Palmer, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 240.<br /> +<br /> +Palmer, Alice Freeman, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187, 266.<br /> +<br /> +Palmer, Courtland, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 240.<br /> +<br /> +Palmer, Mrs. Potter, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 178, 181.<br /> +<br /> +Panama Canal, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 50.<br /> +<br /> +Pansotti, Prof., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 251.<br /> +<br /> +Papéterie, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 52-54, 277, 385, 411, 413.<br /> +<br /> +Paris, France, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6, 8, 97, 116, 133, 278, 279, 301, 308, 309, 315; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 23-26, 66, 176.<br /> +<br /> +Park Street Church, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 43.<br /> +<br /> +Parker, Theodore, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 33, 87, 106, 107, 143, 151, 170, 172-76, 185, 186, 207, 285; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 36, 108, 130, 154, 211, 247, 363, 411.<br /> +<br /> +Parker, Mrs. Theodore, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 173, 175.<br /> +<br /> +Parker Fraternity, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 218, 385; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 127, 130, 131.<br /> +<br /> +Parkman, Dr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 132, 133.<br /> +<br /> +Parkman, Francis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 379; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 54.<br /> +<br /> +Parliament of Religions, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 178, 184.<br /> +<br /> +Parnell, C. S., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Parnell, Delia, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Parnell, Fanny, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Parsons, verse by, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 115.<br /> +<br /> +Parthenon, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 274.<br /> +<br /> +Pascarello, Sig., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 255.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Passion Flowers</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 59, 106, 135, 137, 142, 162, 251; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 211.<br /> +<br /> +Pater, Walter, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Patti, Adelina, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Paul, Jean, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 67.<br /> +<br /> +Peabody, A. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 210.<br /> +<br /> +Peabody, F. G., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 127.<br /> +<br /> +Peabody, Lucia, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 260.<br /> +<br /> +Peabody, Mary. <i>See</i> Mann.<br /> +<br /> +Peace, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 300-07, 309, 312, 318, 319, 332, 345, 346; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8, 77, 326, 327, 359.<br /> +<br /> +Pearse, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 250.<br /> +<br /> +Peary, R. E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 396.<br /> +<br /> +Pecci. <i>See</i> Leo XIII.<br /> +<br /> +Peekskill, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Pekin, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 276, 278, 279.<br /> +<br /> +Pelosos, Ernest, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 124.<br /> +<br /> +Pennsylvania Peace Society, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 319.<br /> +<br /> +Perabo, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 245, 259; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 136.<br /> +<br /> +Pericles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 274.<br /> +<br /> +Perkins, Charles, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 99.<br /> +<br /> +Perkins, Mrs. C. C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 347; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 65.<br /> +<br /> +Perkins, G. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 292.<br /> +<br /> +Perkins Institution for the Blind, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 73, 74, 102, 103, 105, 109, 111, 112, 128, 167, 249, 273, 283, 354; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 59, 73, 129, 150, 269, 293, 347, 357.<br /> +<br /> +Perry, Bliss, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 320.<br /> +<br /> +Perrysburg, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 121, 122.<br /> +<br /> +Persiani (Fanny Tacchinardi), <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Perugia, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243.<br /> +<br /> +Peter the Great, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Petrarch, Francesco, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 194.<br /> +<br /> +Philadelphia, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 63, 131, 169, 295, 304, 318; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 195, 196.<br /> +<br /> +Philippines, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 265.<br /> +<br /> +Phillips, Wendell, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 261, 286, 362; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 61, 62, 84, 87, 88, 92, 108, 168, 190.<br /> +<br /> +Pickering, John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 220.<br /> +<br /> +Pierce, E. L., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187.<br /> +<br /> +Pierce, J. M., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 251, 346.<br /> +<br /> +Pinturicchio, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 252.<br /> +<br /> +Piræus, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43, 44.<br /> +<br /> +Pitti Palace, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 253.<br /> +<br /> +Pius IX, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 28, 29, 31, 241.<br /> +<br /> +Plato, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 40, 382; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 7, 338, 389.<br /> +<br /> +Plutarch, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 342.<br /> +<br /> +Poe, E. A., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Poggia-Suasa, Princess, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247.<br /> +<br /> +Point-aux-Trembles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Poland, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 13.<br /> +<br /> +Polk, James K., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 129.<br /> +<br /> +Pompeii, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 278.<br /> +<br /> +Pompey's Pillar, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34.<br /> +<br /> +Ponte, Lorenzo da, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 45.<br /> +<br /> +Pope, Alexander, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 13.<br /> +<br /> +Porter, F. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 82.<br /> +<br /> +Portland, Maine, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 76.<br /> +<br /> +Portland, Ore., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 134.<br /> +<br /> +Portsmouth, R. I., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 154.<br /> +<br /> +Portugal, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 30.<br /> +<br /> +Potomac, Army of the, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 192, 366.<br /> +<br /> +Potter, Frank, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 381, 382.<br /> +<br /> +Potter, H. C, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 179.<br /> +<br /> +Poughkeepsie, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 202.<br /> +<br /> +Pourtalés, Count, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 124.<br /> +<br /> +Poussin, Nicolas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 42.<br /> +<br /> +Powel, M. E., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 277.<br /> +<br /> +Powell, Aaron, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 303; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 178, 182.<br /> +<br /> +Powell, Samuel, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 49.<br /> +<br /> +Powers, Henry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Prado Museum, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243.<br /> +<br /> +Press Association, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 181.<br /> +<br /> +Prime, Ward & King, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 16, 55, 62; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Primrose League, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Prison Discipline Society, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 127.<br /> +<br /> +Prison reform, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 127, 315, 316.<br /> +<br /> +Procter, Adelaide, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Providence, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 100, 121, 126, 198.<br /> +<br /> +Provo, Bishop of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 138.<br /> +<br /> +Prussia, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 12.<br /> +<br /> +Puerto Plata, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 322, 331.<br /> +<br /> +Pym, Bedford, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 107.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Quaker denomination, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 224, 365.<br /> +<br /> +Quebec, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 5, 38.<br /> +<br /> +Quincy, Josiah, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 264; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 364.<br /> +<br /> +Quincy, Mrs. Josiah, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 201.<br /> +<br /> +Quincy Mansion School, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 324.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Rabé, Annie von, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 13, 14, 16.<br /> +<br /> +Rabé, Eric von, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 13, 14, 16.<br /> +<br /> +Rabé, Oscar von, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 17.<br /> +<br /> +Rachel, Elisa, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Radical Club, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 284-86, 290, 344; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 290, 379.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430b" id="Page_430b">[430]</a></span>Rainieri, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 43.<br /> +<br /> +Ray, Catherine, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Ray, Simon, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Read, Buchanan, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 131.<br /> +<br /> +Red Bank, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Red Cross, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 210.<br /> +<br /> +Red Jacket, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 19.<br /> +<br /> +Redpath, James, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 388.<br /> +<br /> +Redwood Library, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 52.<br /> +<br /> +Rembrandt (R. H. von Rijn), <span class="smcap">I</span>, 42; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11, 18.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Reminiscences</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 41, 44, 92, 185, 195, 210, 237, 247, 285, 291, 292, 301, 329; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 25, 29, 30, 32, 47, 118, 119, 218, 219, 234, 238, 258, 259.<br /> +<br /> +Repplier, Agnes, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 300.<br /> +<br /> +Representative Women, Congress of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 178, 180.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Republican, Springfield</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 196.<br /> +<br /> +Resse, Countess, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 256.<br /> +<br /> +Reszke, Jean de, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 269.<br /> +<br /> +Revere, Paul, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 193.<br /> +<br /> +Rhine, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 133; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 173, 174.<br /> +<br /> +Rhode Island, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4, 6, 9; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 41, 162.<br /> +<br /> +Rice, Lizzie, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 124.<br /> +<br /> +Richards, Alice, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 339; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 164, 165, 167, 175, 221.<br /> +<br /> +Richards, G. H., letter to, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 398.<br /> +<br /> +Richards, Henry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 297, 339; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 65, 113, 328, 397.<br /> +<br /> +Richards, Julia W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 67, 276, 285, 293, 294, 298, 299, 333, 334, 341.<br /> +<br /> +Richards, Laura E., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 133, 148, 161, 166, 217, 222, 231, 265, 297, 339; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 46, 57-59, 69, 84, 112, 119, 124, 146, 164, 195, 317, 318, 337, 340, 341, 358, 359-61, 412.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letters to, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 58, 59, 63-68, 73, 81-83, 85, 88-91, 96, 98, 111-14, 122-25, 157, 198, 221, 223, 231, 236, 267, 277, 285, 298-300, 396.</span><br /> +<br /> +Richards, Elizabeth, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 294, 341, 359.<br /> +<br /> +Richards, Rosalind, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 179, 328, 354, 403.<br /> +<br /> +Richmond, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 29, 213, 219, 274.<br /> +<br /> +Ridley, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 315.<br /> +<br /> +Ripley, Lt., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 155.<br /> +<br /> +Ristori, Adelaide, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 254, 255; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 32, 250.<br /> +<br /> +Ritterschloss, Marienburg, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 14.<br /> +<br /> +Riverton, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 319.<br /> +<br /> +Robert College, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 42.<br /> +<br /> +Roberto, Father, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 300, 337, 357.<br /> +<br /> +Robeson, Mary, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 287.<br /> +<br /> +Robinson, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 229.<br /> +<br /> +Robinson, Edwin A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 268.<br /> +<br /> +Rochambeau, Comte de, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 381.<br /> +<br /> +Rochester, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 377.<br /> +<br /> +Rodocanachi, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 281; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 129.<br /> +<br /> +Rogers, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 271.<br /> +<br /> +Rogers, Samuel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 81, 84, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Rogers, W. A., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 199; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 49, 77.<br /> +<br /> +Rogers, Mrs. W. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 49, 77.<br /> +<br /> +Rohr, Herr von, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 17.<br /> +<br /> +Rölker, Kitty, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Roman fever, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 31.<br /> +<br /> +Rome, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94-96, 106, 115, 134, 135, 137, 155, 207, 254, 267-71; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 27-29, 32, 55, 82, 235, 237, 238.<br /> +<br /> +Roosevelt, Theodore, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 191, 303-05, 325, 328, 388.<br /> +<br /> +Rose, Mme., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 241.<br /> +<br /> +Rosebery, A. P. Primrose, Earl of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 7.<br /> +<br /> +Rosmini, Serbati, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 176.<br /> +<br /> +Ross, Christian, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 243.<br /> +<br /> +Rossetti, D. G., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 239, 248.<br /> +<br /> +Rossini, G. A., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 104.<br /> +<br /> +Rothschild, Lady, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Round Hill School, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 46.<br /> +<br /> +Rousseau, Jacques, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Royal Geographic Society, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 7.<br /> +<br /> +Rubens, P. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 279; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11, 173.<br /> +<br /> +Rubenstein, Anton, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 346.<br /> +<br /> +Russell, C. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 220.<br /> +<br /> +Russell, George, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 141.<br /> +<br /> +Russell, Sarah S., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 141.<br /> +<br /> +Russia, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 207; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187, 218.<br /> +<br /> +Russian Freedom, Friends of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187, 330.<br /> +<br /> +Rutherford, Louis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 49.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Sabatier, Paul, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 253.<br /> +<br /> +Sacken, Baron Osten, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 256.<br /> +<br /> +St. Anthony, Falls of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 379.<br /> +<br /> +St. Anthony of Padua, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 275.<br /> +<br /> +St. Bartholomew's Hospital, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +St. George, Knights of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 74.<br /> +<br /> +St. Jerome, tomb of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 38.<br /> +<br /> +St. Lawrence River, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +St. Louis, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 169, 170.<br /> +<br /> +St. Paul, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 185, 224, 289, 366; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 157, 231, 383.<br /> +<br /> +St. Paul, Minn., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 379; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 274.<br /> +<br /> +St. Paul's, Antwerp, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11.<br /> +<br /> +St. Paul's School, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 254.<br /> +<br /> +St. Peter's, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 95, 269, 363; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 241, 245.<br /> +<br /> +St. Petersburg, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 249.<br /> +<br /> +St. Stanislas, Order of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 283.<br /> +<br /> +St. Thomas Aquinas, anecdote of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 248.<br /> +<br /> +Salem, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 37, 353; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 201.<br /> +<br /> +Salisbury, Robert Cecil, Marquis of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 303.<br /> +<br /> +Salt Lake City, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 137.<br /> +<br /> +Salvini, Alessandro, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 82, 84.<br /> +<br /> +Salvini, Tomaso, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 350, 351; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 67.<br /> +<br /> +Samana, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 334-38, 352, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Samana Bay Company, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 321, 322, 334, 336, 337.<br /> +<br /> +Samoa, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 155.<br /> +<br /> +San Francisco, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 132, 135, 137.<br /> +<br /> +San Geronimo, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 135.<br /> +<br /> +San Martino, Duke of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 250.<br /> +<br /> +Sanborn, Edward, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 383.<br /> +<br /> +Sanborn, Mrs. Edward, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 383.<br /> +<br /> +Sanborn, F. B., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 77, 120, 128, 187, 196, 287, 293, 332, 337, 354, 368.<br /> +<br /> +Sand, George, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 67.<br /> +<br /> +Sanford, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 253, 254.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431b" id="Page_431b">[431]</a></span>Sanitary Commission, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 186, 190, 192, 195.<br /> +<br /> +Santa Barbara, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 136.<br /> +<br /> +Santerre, A. J., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Santo Domingo, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 320-23, 325, 328, 329, 331, 332, 334, 353, 386; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 56.<br /> +<br /> +Sarasate, Pablo, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167.<br /> +<br /> +Saratoga, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 78.<br /> +<br /> +Satolli, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 245.<br /> +<br /> +Saturday Morning Club, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 342-44, 353; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 73, 157, 226, 227.<br /> +<br /> +Savage, M. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 222.<br /> +<br /> +Savage, W. F., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 273.<br /> +<br /> +Savoy, House of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 277.<br /> +<br /> +Saye and Sele, Lord, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 133.<br /> +<br /> +Scala, Cane Grande della, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Scala, Cane Signoria della, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Schelling, Ernest, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 367, 368, 373.<br /> +<br /> +Schelling, F. W. J. von, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 196.<br /> +<br /> +Schenectady, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 377; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 162.<br /> +<br /> +Schenskowkhan, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 17.<br /> +<br /> +Scherb, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 142.<br /> +<br /> +Schiller, J. C. F. von, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Schlesinger, Mrs. Barthold, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 277.<br /> +<br /> +Schlesinger, Sebastian, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Schliemann, Heinrich, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 43.<br /> +<br /> +Schliemann, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 7, 44.<br /> +<br /> +Schubert, Franz, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20, 71, 157.<br /> +<br /> +Schurz, Miss, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 65.<br /> +<br /> +Schwalbach, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 172, 173.<br /> +<br /> +Scotland, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 88, 91, 92; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 71, 166.<br /> +<br /> +Scott, Virginia, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Scott, Walter, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 13, 91.<br /> +<br /> +Scott, Winfield, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Sears, Mrs. M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 210.<br /> +<br /> +Seattle, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 133.<br /> +<br /> +Seeley, J. R., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 313, 314; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Sembrich, Marcella, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 269.<br /> +<br /> +Severance, Caroline M., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 291; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Seward, W. H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 192, 246.<br /> +<br /> +Sforza Cesarini, Duchess, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 175, 176.<br /> +<br /> +Shakespeare, William, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 262, 330.<br /> +<br /> +Sharp, William, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Shedlock, Miss, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 289.<br /> +<br /> +Shelby, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 377.<br /> +<br /> +Shelley, P. B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 68; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 237.<br /> +<br /> +Shenandoah, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 274.<br /> +<br /> +Shenstone, William, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 13.<br /> +<br /> +Sherborn Prison, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 159.<br /> +<br /> +Sheridan, Philip, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 274.<br /> +<br /> +Sherman, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Sherman, W. T., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 274; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 380.<br /> +<br /> +Sherwood, Mrs. John, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 73.<br /> +<br /> +Siberia, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187.<br /> +<br /> +Sicily, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 408.<br /> +<br /> +Sienkiewicz, Henryk, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Silsbee, Mrs., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 264.<br /> +<br /> +Singleton, Violet Fane, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Siouz, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 380.<br /> +<br /> +Sirani, Elisabetta, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 27.<br /> +<br /> +Sistine Chapel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 269.<br /> +<br /> +Smalley, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Smiley, Albert, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 326.<br /> +<br /> +Smith, Amy, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Smith, Mrs. E., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 45, 46.<br /> +<br /> +Smith, Sydney, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 82.<br /> +<br /> +Smith, Mrs. Sydney, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 85.<br /> +<br /> +Smith College, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 361; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 411, 412.<br /> +<br /> +Smyrna, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 42.<br /> +<br /> +Snyders, Franz, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 42, 147.<br /> +<br /> +Socrates, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 290, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Somerset, Lady Henry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 170, 171, 201, 210.<br /> +<br /> +Sonnenberg, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 175, 176.<br /> +<br /> +Sophocles, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 130, 157.<br /> +<br /> +Sorosis Club, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 373; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 215.<br /> +<br /> +Sorrento, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 389.<br /> +<br /> +Sothern, E. A., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 143.<br /> +<br /> +South Berwick, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 317.<br /> +<br /> +South Boston, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 102, 123, 134, 154, 156, 180; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 116.<br /> +<br /> +South Carolina, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 11, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Spain, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Spanish-American War, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 255.<br /> +<br /> +Speare, William, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 45.<br /> +<br /> +Specie Circular, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 61.<br /> +<br /> +Spencer, Anna G., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 358.<br /> +<br /> +Speranza, Prof., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 285.<br /> +<br /> +Spielberg, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94.<br /> +<br /> +Spinola, Contessa, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 251.<br /> +<br /> +Spinoza, Baruch, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 33, 192, 195, 200, 202, 206, 253.<br /> +<br /> +Spofford, Harriet S., letter to, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 391.<br /> +<br /> +Spokane, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 138.<br /> +<br /> +Stamp Act, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Standigl, Herr, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 86.<br /> +<br /> +Stanley, Mgr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 241.<br /> +<br /> +Stanley, A. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Stanley, Lady, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 266, 267.<br /> +<br /> +Stedman, E. C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 190.<br /> +<br /> +Steele, Thomas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 91.<br /> +<br /> +Stephenson, Hannah, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 163; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 130.<br /> +<br /> +Stepniak, Sergius, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Stevens, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 387.<br /> +<br /> +Stevenson, R. L., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 200.<br /> +<br /> +Stillman, W. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Stillman, Mrs. W. J., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 239, 251, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Stone, C. P., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 34, 37.<br /> +<br /> +Stone, Lucy, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 362, 364, 375.<br /> +<br /> +Story, Mrs. Waldo, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 249.<br /> +<br /> +Story, William, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 124.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 148.</span><br /> +<br /> +Stovin, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 36.<br /> +<br /> +Stowe, Harriet B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 304; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 329.<br /> +<br /> +Stuart, Miss, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 21.<br /> +<br /> +Stuart, Gilbert, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 189.<br /> +<br /> +Sturgis, William, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 142.<br /> +<br /> +Stuyvesant, Peter, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 70.<br /> +<br /> +Stuyvesant Institute, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Success</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 261.<br /> +<br /> +Sue, Eugène, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 135.<br /> +<br /> +Suffrage, equal, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 362-73; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 61, 88, 89, 90, 126, 151, 166, 192, 216, 268, 322, 343.<br /> +<br /> +Sullivan, Annie (Mrs. Macy), <span class="smcap">II</span>, 262.<br /> +<br /> +Sullivan, Sir Arthur, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432b" id="Page_432b">[432]</a></span>Sullivan, Richard, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 64.<br /> +<br /> +Sully, Duc de, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 192.<br /> +<br /> +Sumner, Mrs., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 225.<br /> +<br /> +Sumner, Albert, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 151.<br /> +<br /> +Sumner, Charles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 71, 74-77, 116, 121, 127, 133, 149, 151, 152, 153, 168, 200, 205, 206, 226, 227, 246, 283, 344, 381; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 108, 128.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 75.</span><br /> +<br /> +Sumner, Mrs. Charles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 255, 283.<br /> +<br /> +Sumner, George, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 151.<br /> +<br /> +Sutherland, Duchess of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 82, 85, 95.<br /> +<br /> +Sutherland, Duke of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 87.<br /> +<br /> +Swedenborg, Emanuel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 135.<br /> +<br /> +Swinburne, A. C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 72.<br /> +<br /> +Switzerland, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94, 278; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20.<br /> +<br /> +Syra, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 272.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Tacitus, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 177, 222.<br /> +<br /> +Tacoma, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 133, 153.<br /> +<br /> +Taft, W. H., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 192, 388, 394.<br /> +<br /> +Taglioni, Marie, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 97.<br /> +<br /> +Talbot, Emily, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 287.<br /> +<br /> +Talleyrand, Princess, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247.<br /> +<br /> +Talmage, DeWitt, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 101.<br /> +<br /> +Talmud, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 46.<br /> +<br /> +Tappan, Caroline, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 142.<br /> +<br /> +Tasso, Torquato, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 32.<br /> +<br /> +Taverna, Contessa di, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 253, 255.<br /> +<br /> +Taylor, Father, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 72, 346.<br /> +<br /> +Tebbets, Mrs., 227.<br /> +<br /> +Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 160; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 203, 227, 247.<br /> +<br /> +Terry, Louisa, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267, 268, 352; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 12-14, 16, 28, 29, 32, 55, 60, 65, 67, 172-75, 235, 236, 238, 256.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter to, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 94.</span><br /> +<br /> +Terry, Luther, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 95; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 28, 55, 67, 247, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Terry, Margaret, <i>See</i> Chanler.<br /> +<br /> +Tewfik Pasha, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 36.<br /> +<br /> +Thackeray, W. M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 306.<br /> +<br /> +Thaxter, Celia, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 199.<br /> +<br /> +Thayer, Adèle, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 312.<br /> +<br /> +Thayer, W. R., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 346.<br /> +<br /> +Theseum, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 275.<br /> +<br /> +Thorndike, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247.<br /> +<br /> +Thucydides, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 47, 98.<br /> +<br /> +Thynne, Lady Beatrice, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Thynne, Lady Katherine, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Ticknor, Anna, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 345.<br /> +<br /> +Ticknor & Fields, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 137, 143.<br /> +<br /> +Tilden, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 345.<br /> +<br /> +Tilden, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 157.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Times, London</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 372.<br /> +<br /> +Tiryns, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Tiverton, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 47, 69.<br /> +<br /> +Todd, Prof., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 297.<br /> +<br /> +Todd, Mabel Loomis, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 270, 297, 315.<br /> +<br /> +Tonawanda, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 122.<br /> +<br /> +Torlonia, Princess, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 95.<br /> +<br /> +Törmer, ——, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 95.<br /> +<br /> +Tosti, Sig., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 357.<br /> +<br /> +Touraine, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 353.<br /> +<br /> +Town and Country Club, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 347; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 47, 49-52, 55, 77.<br /> +<br /> +Toynbee, Arnold, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 323.<br /> +<br /> +Toynbee Hall, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 166.<br /> +<br /> +Transcendentalism, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 72.<br /> +<br /> +Trench, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247.<br /> +<br /> +Trench, Chevenix, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Trenton</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 156.<br /> +<br /> +Trevelyan, Lady, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tribune, Chicago</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8, 9, 18, 176.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tribune, N.Y.</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 176, 196, 250, 251; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 84.<br /> +<br /> +Trinity Church, Boston, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 141, 199.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Trip to Cuba</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 173-77, 265.<br /> +<br /> +Trollope, Frances M., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 114.<br /> +<br /> +Trowbridge, J. T., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 273.<br /> +<br /> +Troy, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 298, 308.<br /> +<br /> +Troyon, Constant, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 172.<br /> +<br /> +Trumbull, Senator, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 239.<br /> +<br /> +Trumbull, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 5.<br /> +<br /> +Tschaikowsky, Peter, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 295.<br /> +<br /> +Tuckerman, G. F., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 248.<br /> +<br /> +Tuckerman, H. T., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 231.<br /> +<br /> +Tuesday Club, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Tufts College, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 218; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 324.<br /> +<br /> +Tukey, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 250.<br /> +<br /> +Tumwater, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 134.<br /> +<br /> +Turin, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 24, 26.<br /> +<br /> +Turkey, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 261; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 394.<br /> +<br /> +Tuskegee, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 200.<br /> +<br /> +Tweedy, Mrs., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 227, 231.<br /> +<br /> +Twelve O'Clock Talks, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 107, 178.<br /> +<br /> +Twisleton, Edward, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 133, 314; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Twitchell, Joseph, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tybee</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 322, 334.<br /> +<br /> +Tyndall, William, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 222, 228.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Umberto I, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 29-31, 248, 277.<br /> +<br /> +Unitarian Association, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Unitarian Women, Alliance of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 178, 181.<br /> +<br /> +Unitarianism, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 109, 185, 259, 388.<br /> +<br /> +United States Army, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 15.<br /> +<br /> +Universal Peace Union, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 319.<br /> +<br /> +Upson, Arthur, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 346.<br /> +<br /> +Utah, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 17.<br /> +<br /> +Utica, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 344.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Val, Cardinal Merry del, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 254.<br /> +<br /> +Valley Forge, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Van Buren, Martin, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 306.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Vandalia</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 155.<br /> +<br /> +Vanderbilt, Cornelius, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 221.<br /> +<br /> +Van Dyck, Anthony, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11.<br /> +<br /> +Van Winkle, Judge, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 382.<br /> +<br /> +Vassar, Matthew, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 82.<br /> +<br /> +Vassar College, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 361; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 11, 82, 83.<br /> +<br /> +Vatican, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 28, 252.<br /> +<br /> +Vaughan, Dr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 170.<br /> +<br /> +Velasquez, D. R. de Silva, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 42.<br /> +<br /> +Vendôme, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 62.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433b" id="Page_433b">[433]</a></span>Venice, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 278; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 27.<br /> +<br /> +Ventura, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 136.<br /> +<br /> +Ventura, Sig., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 82.<br /> +<br /> +Vergniaud, P. V., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 7.<br /> +<br /> +Vermont, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 118; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 68.<br /> +<br /> +Verona, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 278; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 26, 27.<br /> +<br /> +Versailles, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 8, 309.<br /> +<br /> +Vibbert, G. H., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 364.<br /> +<br /> +Victor Emanuel I, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 28-30.<br /> +<br /> +Victor Emanuel II, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 30, 278.<br /> +<br /> +Victoria, Queen, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 267; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20, 127, 218, 283.<br /> +<br /> +Victoria, Empress (Frederick), <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20.<br /> +<br /> +Victory, Temple of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 274.<br /> +<br /> +Vienna, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 94; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 182.<br /> +<br /> +Villegas, José, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 240, 243, 256.<br /> +<br /> +Vincent Hospital, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 158.<br /> +<br /> +Vineyard Haven, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 342, 387.<br /> +<br /> +Vinton, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 287.<br /> +<br /> +Virginia, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 29.<br /> +<br /> +Viti de Marco, Marchesa de, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 255.<br /> +<br /> +Viti de Marco, Marchese de, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 255.<br /> +<br /> +Voickoff, Alex, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 350.<br /> +<br /> +Voshell, Lucy, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 344, 345, 347.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Waddington, Mary K., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Waddington, William, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9.<br /> +<br /> +Wade, Benjamin, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 321.<br /> +<br /> +Wadsworth, William, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 86.<br /> +<br /> +Wagner, Richard, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 156.<br /> +<br /> +Wales, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 88; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 166.<br /> +<br /> +Walker, Francis, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 150, 172, 226.<br /> +<br /> +Wallace, H. B., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 134, 271.<br /> +<br /> +Wallack's Theatre, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 143, 352.<br /> +<br /> +Walmsley, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 209.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, name of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Capt., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 8.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Anne, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 19, 22.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Annie. <i>See</i> Mailliard.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Emily A., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 50, 57, 60, 64.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, F. Marion, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17, 22, 30, 46-48, 58, 130, 352; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 108, 174, 175, 411.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Henry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 22, 60.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Henry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 31, 60; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 174, 175.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Henry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17, 46-48, 58, 65, 66, 74, 341; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 160, 277, 288, 411.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Herbert D., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 270.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Mrs. Humphry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 165, 378.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 22, 28, 64-66, 72, 107, 129, 238, 242-45, 258, 351, 352; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 401.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Julia, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17, 18.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Julia Rush, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17-22, 28, 61; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 160, 235.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Louisa. <i>See</i> Crawford <i>and</i> Terry.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Mary. <i>See</i> Dorr.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Mary, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 238.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, May Alden, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 270, 388.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Phœbe, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 19.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Gov. Richard, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Richard, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 242, 351.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Gov. Samuel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 78, 198, 221.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Col. Samuel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 5-9, 15, 16, 19, 21, 22, 37-39; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 304, 320.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Samuel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 16-18, 21, 22, 25, 28, 29, 33-42, 46-52, 58-64, 68, 243, 272, 289, 351; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9, 16, 78, 89, 108, 235, 251, 319, 373.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Samuel, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 17, 30, 42, 46, 48, 51, 56-58, 62, 64, 65, 72, 77, 78, 143, 147, 153, 154, 219, 242; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 7, 55, 60, 66, 67, 71, 72, 74, 78, 93-96, 125, 267, 287, 304, 369, 375, 411, 413.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letters to, 69, 70, 78, 81, 83, 84, 86.</span><br /> +<br /> +Ward, Thomas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, W. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 238, 242.<br /> +<br /> +Ward, Mrs. W. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 238.<br /> +<br /> +Waring, George, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 48.<br /> +<br /> +Warner, C. D., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 107, 198.<br /> +<br /> +Warner, H. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 265.<br /> +<br /> +Warren, Mrs. Fiske, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 288.<br /> +<br /> +Warren, William, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 97.<br /> +<br /> +Warwick, R. I., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 9, 16.<br /> +<br /> +Washington, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 134.<br /> +<br /> +Washington, D.C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 186, 187, 189, 192, 200, 206, 238, 240, 246, 258, 259, 366; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 131.<br /> +<br /> +Washington, Booker, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 233, 261.<br /> +<br /> +Washington, George, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4-6, 12, 13, 111, 189; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 143, 389.<br /> +<br /> +Washington Heights, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 111.<br /> +<br /> +Wasson, Mr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 285, 290.<br /> +<br /> +Waters, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 179.<br /> +<br /> +Watts, Theodore, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Webster, Dr., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 132.<br /> +<br /> +Webster, Sydney, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 304.<br /> +<br /> +Weiss, John, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 284-86.<br /> +<br /> +Wells, Amos R., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 375.<br /> +<br /> +Wendell, Barrett, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 359.<br /> +<br /> +Wendte, C. W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 78.<br /> +<br /> +Wesselhoeft, William, Sr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 230, 231, 242, 264, 269, 275, 282.<br /> +<br /> +Wesselhoeft, William, Jr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 284, 333.<br /> +<br /> +Westminster Abbey, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 6, 167, 171.<br /> +<br /> +Wheeler, Joseph, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 264.<br /> +<br /> +Wheeling, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 169.<br /> +<br /> +Wheelwright, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 300.<br /> +<br /> +Whipple, Charlotte, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 267.<br /> +<br /> +Whipple, E. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 210, 222, 262.<br /> +<br /> +Whistler, J. McN., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 72.<br /> +<br /> +White, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 323, 361.<br /> +<br /> +White, A. D., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 321.<br /> +<br /> +White, Daisy R., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +White, Harry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Whitehouse, Fitzhugh, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 326.<br /> +<br /> +Whitman, Mrs. Henry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 313.<br /> +<br /> +Whitman, Sarah, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 180, 228, 262, 325.<br /> +<br /> +Whitney, Bishop, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 137.<br /> +<br /> +Whitney, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 228.<br /> +<br /> +Whitney, M. W., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 265.<br /> +<br /> +Whittier, J. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 138, 152, 153, 210, 344; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 177, 187, 355, 367, 368.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Letter of, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 138.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434b" id="Page_434b">[434]</a></span>Wild, Hamilton, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 201; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 99.<br /> +<br /> +Wilde, Lady, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Wilde, Oscar, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 70-72, 168.<br /> +<br /> +Wilde, Mrs. Oscar, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 167-69.<br /> +<br /> +Wilderness, Battle of the, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 253.<br /> +<br /> +William I, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +William I (Prussia), <span class="smcap">I</span>, 93, 94; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20.<br /> +<br /> +William II., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 20.<br /> +<br /> +Williams, Dr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 205.<br /> +<br /> +Williams, Mrs. Harry, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 93.<br /> +<br /> +Williams, Roger, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 4.<br /> +<br /> +Williams Hall, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 185.<br /> +<br /> +Willis, N. P., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 262.<br /> +<br /> +Wilman, Helen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 325.<br /> +<br /> +Wilson, Mrs. B. M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 266.<br /> +<br /> +Winchendon, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 314.<br /> +<br /> +Winchester, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 188.<br /> +<br /> +Windermere, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 92.<br /> +<br /> +Winslow, Erving, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 346.<br /> +<br /> +Winslow, Helen M., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 270.<br /> +<br /> +Wintergreen Club, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 361.<br /> +<br /> +Winthrop, Lindall, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 251.<br /> +<br /> +Winthrop, R. C., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 170; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 93, 306.<br /> +<br /> +Winthrop House, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 123, 124.<br /> +<br /> +Wister, Owen, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 304, 354.<br /> +<br /> +Wolcott, Roger, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 233.<br /> +<br /> +Woman Ministry, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 386; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 77.<br /> +<br /> +Woman's Church, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 390.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Woman's Journal</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 353, 359; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 9, 100, 324.<br /> +<br /> +Woman's Liberal Christian Union, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 388.<br /> +<br /> +Woman's Ministerial Conference, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 390.<br /> +<br /> +Woman's Mission, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 388; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 84.<br /> +<br /> +Women Ministers, Association of, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 178.<br /> +<br /> +Women's Educational and Industrial Union, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 179, 200.<br /> +<br /> +Women's Hospital, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 233.<br /> +<br /> +Women's Rest Tour Association, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 188, 192.<br /> +<br /> +Wood, Mr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Wood, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 6.<br /> +<br /> +Woolson, Mrs., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 229.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Words for the Hour</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 135, 143, 233; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 211.<br /> +<br /> +Wordsworth, Mary, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 92, 93.<br /> +<br /> +Wordsworth, William, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 85, 92; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 296.<br /> +<br /> +<i>World, London</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 45.<br /> +<br /> +<i>World, N.Y.</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 311.<br /> +<br /> +<i>World's Own</i>, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 143, 144, 352.<br /> +<br /> +Wright, Silas, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 98.<br /> +<br /> +Wyman, Lillie B. C., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 187.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Xenophon, <span class="smcap">I</span>, 298; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 7, 374.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Yates, Edmund, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 5, 8, 45.<br /> +<br /> +Yeats, W. B., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 319.<br /> +<br /> +Youmans, E. L., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 245.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Youth's Companion</i>, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 66.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Zahm, Father, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 247.<br /> +<br /> +Zakrzewska, Dr., <span class="smcap">II</span>, 302, 306.<br /> +<br /> +Zalinski, ——, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 15, 16.<br /> +<br /> +Zalinski, E. L. G., <span class="smcap">I</span>, 346; <span class="smcap">II</span>, 15.<br /> +<br /> +Zangwill, Israel, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 331.<br /> +<br /> +Zola, Émile, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 241.<br /> +<br /> +Zuñi chiefs, <span class="smcap">II</span>, 74, 75.<br /> +</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Born 1756, died 1832. He graduated in 1771 from Rhode Island +College (now Brown University) with distinguished honors.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Granddaughter of Simon Ray, one of the original owners of the island. +He was "pressed in a cheese-press" on account of his religious opinions.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> See Horry and Weems, <i>Life of Marion</i>. General Horry was a most +zealous and devoted friend; as a biographer his accuracy is questionable, +his picturesqueness never.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> We have not found the date of his death, but Horry gives the principal +features of his will as he got them from the family. He calls Judith +Marion "Louisa," but that is his picturesque way. She may have been +"Judith Louisa"! Women's names were not of much consequence in those +days. +</p><p> +"After having, in the good old way, bequeathed 'his soul to God who +gave it,' and 'his body to the earth out of which it was taken,' he proceeds:— +</p><p> +"'In the first place, as to debts, thank God, I owe none, and therefore +shall give my executors but little trouble on that score. +</p><p> +"'Secondly,—As to the poor, I have always treated them as my brethren. +My dear family will, I know, follow my example. +</p><p> +"'Thirdly,—As to the wealth with which God has been pleased to bless +me and my dear Louisa and children, lovingly have we labored together +for it—lovingly we have enjoyed it—and now, with a glad and grateful +heart do I leave it among them. +</p><p> +"'I give my beloved Louisa all my ready money—that she may never +be alarmed at a sudden call. +</p><p> +"'I give her all my fat calves and lambs, my pigs and poultry—that +she may always keep a good table. +</p><p> +"'I give her my new carriage and horses—that she may visit her +friends in comfort. +</p><p> +"'I give her my family Bible—that she may live above the ill-tempers +and sorrows of life. +</p><p> +"'I give my son Peter a hornbook—for I am afraid he will always be +a dunce.'" +</p><p> +General Horry goes on to say that Peter was so stunned by this squib +that he "instantly quit his raccoon hunting by night and betook himself +to reading, and soon became a very sensible and charming young man."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> On first coming to this country, Johannes Demesmaker settled in +Hingham, Massachusetts. Later he moved to Boston, where he became +known as Dr. John Cutler; married Mary Cowell, of Boston, and served +as surgeon in King Philip's War.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> In later life she added to these the works of Spinoza, and of Theodore +Parker.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 43.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 65.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Longfellow had lent her "Beowulf."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> <i>The Late Samuel Ward</i>, by Mr. Charles King.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 53.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> This manuscript poem was lost, together with many others of the +period, a loss always regretted by our mother.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> George S. Hillard.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Longfellow.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> <i>Letters and Journals of Samuel Gridley Howe.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> <i>Memoir of Dr. Samuel G. Howe</i>, by Julia Ward Howe.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Afterward Mrs. Charles H. Dorr. This lady was of no kin to them. +She had been betrothed to their brother Henry, and was the lifelong friend +of all three sisters.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> William Wadsworth, of Geneseo.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Edward Everett was at that time American Minister to England.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> S. G. H. to Charles Sumner.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Louisa Ward married Thomas Crawford in 1844, and lived thereafter +in Rome.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Before the marriage of the latter to Adolphe Mailliard.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Breakfast.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> The nurserymaid.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Mrs. Harrison Gray Otis.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> She had had a severe attack of scarlet fever during the winter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> The Five of Clubs. See <i>ante</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> James K. Polk.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> <i>Female Poets of America.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Formerly part of the Via Sistina.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> "The Hero." See Whittier's <i>Poems</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> The <i>Commonwealth</i> was a daily newspaper published in the Anti-Slavery +interest. Dr. Howe was one of its organizers, and for some time +its editor-in-chief. She says, "Its immediate object was to reach the body +politic which distrusted rhetoric and oratory, but which sooner or later +gives heed to dispassionate argument and the advocacy of plain issues." +She helped the Doctor in his editorial work, and enjoyed it greatly, writing +literary and critical articles, while he furnished the political part.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> Printed in <i>Words for the Hour</i>, 1857.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> A German scholar, at this time an <i>habitué</i> of the house.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Of Wilmington, Delaware.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> <i>Letters and Journals of Samuel Gridley Howe.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> Near Newport, of which it is really a suburb.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> George William Curtis.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Thomas Gold Appleton.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Vaucluse, at Portsmouth.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> In consequence of the assault upon him in the Senate Chamber by +Preston Brooks of South Carolina.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> This Fair was got up by Mr. Robert C. Winthrop for the benefit of +the poor.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> Her pet name for Theodore Parker. <i>Vide</i> Dante's <i>Inferno</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> The child's faithful nurse.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> "Our Orders."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Miss Mary Paddock, our father's devoted amanuensis: one of the +earliest and best-loved teachers at the Perkins Institution; often our +mother's good helper; the faithful and lifelong friend of us all.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> "Hamlet at the Boston," <i>Later Lyrics</i>, 1866.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> To Mary Devlin, an actress of great charm.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> <i>Lyrical Ventures</i>, by Samuel Ward.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> The mother of Charles Sumner.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> Dr. Howe raised the money for this statue.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> Mrs. Francis and Mrs. McAllister.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> No. 19.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> Sister of James Freeman Clarke. An artist of some note and a beloved +friend of our mother.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Margaret Foley, the sculptor.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> The widow of her uncle, William G. Ward.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> Andrew Johnson.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Dr. Francis Lieber, the eminent German-American publicist.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Mr. Howells, in his <i>Literary Boston Thirty Years Ago</i>, thus speaks of +her (1895): "I should not be just to a vivid phase if I failed to speak of +Mrs. Julia Ward Howe and the impulse of reform which she personified. +I did not sympathize with this then so much as I do now, but I could appreciate +it on the intellectual side. Once, many years later, I heard Mrs. +Howe speak in public, and it seemed to me that she made one of the best +speeches I had ever heard. It gave me for the first time a notion of what +women might do in that sort if they entered public life; but when we met +in those earlier days I was interested in her as perhaps our chief poetess. +I believe she did not care to speak much of literature; she was alert for +other meanings in life, and I remember how she once brought to book a +youthful matron who had perhaps unduly lamented the hardships of housekeeping, +with the sharp demand, 'Child, where is your <i>religion</i>?' After +the many years of an acquaintance which had not nearly so many meetings +as years, it was pleasant to find her, not long ago, as strenuous as ever +for the faith or work, and as eager to aid Stepniak as John Brown. In her +beautiful old age she survives a certain literary impulse of Boston, but a +still higher impulse of Boston she will not survive, for that will last while +the city endures."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> Count Alberto Maggi, an Italian <i>littérateur</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> At the Lexington Lyceum for the Monument Fund.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> This was evidently a meeting of the "Brain Club."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> "Kenyon's Legacy," printed in <i>Later Lyrics</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> Formerly Anagnostopoulos. He dropped the last three syllables soon +after coming to this country.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> The Handel and Haydn Festival.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> 1869-1871. He took the course of geology and mining engineering, +graduating at the head of his class.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> Napoleon III.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> "To suckle fools and chronicle small beer." <i>Othello.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 346.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 362.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> <i>Letters and Journals of Samuel Gridley Howe.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> Mrs. Charles C. Perkins.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> She had a great regard and admiration for Miss Mitchell. Scientific +achievement seemed to her well-nigh miraculous, and roused in her an +almost childlike reverence.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> Of the Redpath Bureau.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, pp. 411 and 412.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> The armless painter. See <i>ante</i>, vol. I, chap. <span class="smcap">xii.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> The Prussian aristocracy.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 423.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 423.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> The present King, Victor Emanuel III.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 425.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> The favorite wife of the Khedive.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> A cousin who was of the party.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> Ismail Pasha.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> A negro attendant.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> A Greek Protestant minister.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> Francis Parkman had written an article opposing woman suffrage.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> Luther Terry, an American painter who had lived long in Rome, and +had been a close friend of Thomas Crawford. He survived his wife by +some years.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> Dr. H. P. Beach.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> The late Richard Sullivan.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_94_94" id="Footnote_94_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Welsh for "glory": a favorite exclamation of hers, learned in childhood +from a Welsh servant.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_95_95" id="Footnote_95_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> John Howe Hall.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_96_96" id="Footnote_96_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> Laura had once been told that she "would not amount to much without +her good nature."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_97_97" id="Footnote_97_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> Berkeley Chambers, where she and Maud spent this winter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_98_98" id="Footnote_98_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> Michael.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_99_99" id="Footnote_99_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> This was a summer school of ten years (1879-88) in which Emerson, +Alcott, and W. T. Harris took part.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_100_100" id="Footnote_100_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 440.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_101_101" id="Footnote_101_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> These essays were published in a volume entitled <i>Is Polite Society +Polite?</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_102_102" id="Footnote_102_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> Cf. Æschylus.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_103_103" id="Footnote_103_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> Miss Sarah J. Eddy, then of Providence, a granddaughter of Francis +Jackson.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_104_104" id="Footnote_104_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> Boston.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_105_105" id="Footnote_105_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> Thomas Davidson, founder of the "New Fellowship" (London and +New York) and of the "Breadwinners' College."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_106_106" id="Footnote_106_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> Mrs. George Russell, widow of the Doctor's friend and college chum.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_107_107" id="Footnote_107_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> Caroline Tappan was Caroline Sturgis, daughter of Captain William +Sturgis, and sister of Ellen (Sturgis) Hooper,—member of the inmost +Transcendentalist circle, and friend of Emerson, Ellery Channing, and +Margaret Fuller.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_108_108" id="Footnote_108_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> <i>Song Album.</i> Published by G. Schirmer & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_109_109" id="Footnote_109_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> Henry Marion Howe.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_110_110" id="Footnote_110_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> The Reverend Antoinette Blackwell.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_111_111" id="Footnote_111_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_111_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> Ralph Adams Cram, architect and <i>littérateur</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_112_112" id="Footnote_112_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_112_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> Author of <i>Civil Rights of Women</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_113_113" id="Footnote_113_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_113_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> Son of Abraham Lincoln.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_114_114" id="Footnote_114_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_114_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> Lady Battersea.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_115_115" id="Footnote_115_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_115_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> Sergius Stepniak, a Russian author, then a political exile living in +England.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_116_116" id="Footnote_116_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_116_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> Rosmini-Serbati, a noted philosopher and founder of the order of +the Brothers of Charity.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_117_117" id="Footnote_117_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_117_117"><span class="label">[117]</span></a> Mrs. Charlotte Emerson Brown was at this time president of the General +Federation of Women's Clubs, and had prepared this exhibit, the first +of its kind in club history.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_118_118" id="Footnote_118_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_118_118"><span class="label">[118]</span></a> Now (1915) a political prisoner in Siberia: she escaped, but was +recaptured and later removed to a more remote place of imprisonment.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_119_119" id="Footnote_119_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_119_119"><span class="label">[119]</span></a> Mrs. Winthrop Chanler.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_120_120" id="Footnote_120_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_120_120"><span class="label">[120]</span></a> Anagnos.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_121_121" id="Footnote_121_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_121_121"><span class="label">[121]</span></a> Dr. Wesselhoeft.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_122_122" id="Footnote_122_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_122_122"><span class="label">[122]</span></a> Harold Crawford, who was killed in the present war (1915), fighting +for the Allies.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_123_123" id="Footnote_123_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_123_123"><span class="label">[123]</span></a> Now Cardinal O'Connell.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_124_124" id="Footnote_124_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_124_124"><span class="label">[124]</span></a> <i>I.e.</i>, Clerical.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_125_125" id="Footnote_125_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_125_125"><span class="label">[125]</span></a> Her brother-in-law, Luther Terry.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_126_126" id="Footnote_126_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_126_126"><span class="label">[126]</span></a> Elliott was at work upon his Triumph of Time, a ceiling decoration +for the Boston Public Library.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_127_127" id="Footnote_127_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_127_127"><span class="label">[127]</span></a> In the <i>Reminiscences</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_128_128" id="Footnote_128_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_128_128"><span class="label">[128]</span></a> The late John Hays Gardiner, author of <i>The Bible as Literature</i>, +<i>The Forms of Prose Literature</i>, and <i>Harvard</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_129_129" id="Footnote_129_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_129_129"><span class="label">[129]</span></a> Edwin Arlington Robinson, author of <i>Captain Craig</i>, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_130_130" id="Footnote_130_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_130_130"><span class="label">[130]</span></a> The facsimile printed in the <i>Reminiscences</i> contains the discarded +stanza.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_131_131" id="Footnote_131_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_131_131"><span class="label">[131]</span></a> Julia Ward Richards.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_132_132" id="Footnote_132_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_132_132"><span class="label">[132]</span></a> A terrible storm and tidal wave which had nearly destroyed the city.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_133_133" id="Footnote_133_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_133_133"><span class="label">[133]</span></a> James Freeman Clarke.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_134_134" id="Footnote_134_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_134_134"><span class="label">[134]</span></a> The Triumph of Time, at the Public Library.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_135_135" id="Footnote_135_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_135_135"><span class="label">[135]</span></a> Dr. Lawrence J. Henderson.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_136_136" id="Footnote_136_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_136_136"><span class="label">[136]</span></a> The bridegroom, Henry Marion Hall.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_137_137" id="Footnote_137_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_137_137"><span class="label">[137]</span></a> That is, to have it bought by some public society.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_138_138" id="Footnote_138_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_138_138"><span class="label">[138]</span></a> An editor.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_139_139" id="Footnote_139_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_139_139"><span class="label">[139]</span></a> Professor Todd, of Amherst, and his wife, Mabel Loomis Todd.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_140_140" id="Footnote_140_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_140_140"><span class="label">[140]</span></a> Letters and Journals of Samuel Gridley Howe.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_141_141" id="Footnote_141_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_141_141"><span class="label">[141]</span></a> Count Mayer des Planches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_142_142" id="Footnote_142_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_142_142"><span class="label">[142]</span></a> Theodore Roosevelt.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_143_143" id="Footnote_143_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_143_143"><span class="label">[143]</span></a> St. George's, Newport.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_144_144" id="Footnote_144_144"></a><a href="#FNanchor_144_144"><span class="label">[144]</span></a> Julia Ward Howe Hall.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_145_145" id="Footnote_145_145"></a><a href="#FNanchor_145_145"><span class="label">[145]</span></a> Hawthorne's friend of the <i>Democratic Review</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_146_146" id="Footnote_146_146"></a><a href="#FNanchor_146_146"><span class="label">[146]</span></a> T. W. Higginson, <i>The Outlook</i>, January 26, 1907.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_147_147" id="Footnote_147_147"></a><a href="#FNanchor_147_147"><span class="label">[147]</span></a> These verses are printed in At Sunset, under the title of "Humanity," +and at the head of chapter <span class="smcap">xi</span> of this volume.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_148_148" id="Footnote_148_148"></a><a href="#FNanchor_148_148"><span class="label">[148]</span></a> It may be noted that this epidemic of tonsillitis was actually fatal to +Miss Susan B. Anthony, who never recovered from the illness contracted +in Baltimore.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_149_149" id="Footnote_149_149"></a><a href="#FNanchor_149_149"><span class="label">[149]</span></a> Mrs. Charles Homans.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_150_150" id="Footnote_150_150"></a><a href="#FNanchor_150_150"><span class="label">[150]</span></a> This poem appears in <i>At Sunset</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_151_151" id="Footnote_151_151"></a><a href="#FNanchor_151_151"><span class="label">[151]</span></a> Her man of business and faithful friend. Though of her children's +generation, she had adopted him as an "uncle."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_152_152" id="Footnote_152_152"></a><a href="#FNanchor_152_152"><span class="label">[152]</span></a> Son of Caroline Minturn (Hall) and the Reverend Hugh Birckhead.</p></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="tn"><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>The footnote on page 127 was unreadable but was +found in another copy. "The Five of Clubs. See _ante_."</p> + +<p>On page 307 there was a footnote marker[2] with no corresponding footnote. +"Never may I escape it to my grave!"[2]</p> + +<p>Index entry for Tebbets, Mrs., 227. gives no volume number. She is +mentioned in Volume II only, on page 227.</p> + +<p>The Table of Contents for Volume II was not found in the original, but +was provided by the transcriber.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Julia Ward Howe, by +Laura E. 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