Qass__ 
 
 Book 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT
 
 1 would have all "who love me rememier. that 
 I am absent from the body, present with the ;
 
 LIFE AND LETTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 MRS. JEANETTE H. PLATT 
 
 COMPILED BY 
 
 HER HUSBAND. 
 
 >OFWA? 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 E. CLAXTON & CO., 
 
 930 MARKET STREET. 
 1882.
 
 Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1882, by 
 
 CYRUS PLATT, 
 in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. All rights reserved. 
 
 COLLINS, PRINTER.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 " That she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." 
 
 THERE are those who, though dwelling in the shadow, look ever 
 into the sunshine. Earthly vicissitudes do not disturb their joy. 
 To them decay and death suggest only the burgeoning of a new 
 spring, and the promise of an ever-recurring life. 
 
 Of such was she whose life is commemorated in these pages, 
 illustrating her own words, "We may always see through tears a 
 bow of promise in every cloud that darkens our way." To this 
 happy temperament, united with rare personal attractions, she 
 added an unfaltering trust in her heavenly Father. Thus was 
 formed the substratum of a character and life worthy of all imita- 
 tion. More worthy, more beautiful, perhaps, because found in 
 that sphere of comparative seclusion which is bounded by the 
 domestic and social relations of life. Though her distinguished 
 qualities brought her into intercourse with eminent persons, the 
 fact that her career was not public will render the secrets of her 
 success more welcome to the large majority of women whose lives 
 lie in the retirement of private life. 
 
 After arriving at a responsible age, in the varied relations of 
 daughter, wife, mother, and friend, we find her always the burden- 
 bearer. In these pages those similarly situated will be thankful 
 to learn the way and spirit in which she carried these burdens, and 
 " how she walked beside the sad and weary with words of cheer 
 and of comfort." 
 
 These memorials develop the fact that, while lacking the appli- 
 ances of wealth, a home may be the radiant centre of intelligence, 
 
 (iii)
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 refinement, and happiness. Annoyances and trials become "as 
 steps unto Heaven" in a household administered by one who, like 
 our friend, remembers God as a"" very present help;" or the rule 
 of whose life is, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His 
 righteousness." Obedience to this command was her only method. 
 This released her from that bondage to domestic and social routine 
 by which so many, not apprehending this "secret of the Lord," 
 are oppressed; and these pages will attest to the "all things 
 added" both to herself and family. Referring to what this course 
 enabled her to accomplish, that gifted daughter of the Church, 
 Mrs. E. B. Benjamin, writes, "I am amazed, as I have learned 
 more and more of her extensive correspondence and of her wide- 
 spreading sympathy, amid unceasing family cares, at the power 
 held by one woman, who, in simple, childlike faith, followed the 
 Master whithersoever He led. The very number of her letters tells 
 a story of faithfulness. ' ' 
 
 Among the letters a large number will be found addressed to 
 her nephew, manifesting the great love she bore the sister who 
 was the mother of the young man. 
 
 These letters are so full of interests vital to the young, so over- 
 flowing with love from the mother-heart, so full of glimpses of her 
 beautiful home-life, that a large space is given them. 
 
 One marked feature of her usefulness appears in her constant 
 circulation of such books as are elevating, and particularly such as 
 are aids to religious life. Conscientious, some may think severe, 
 in her discriminations, neither the popularity of a book nor an 
 autHor prevented her protest, if she apprehended immoral or un- 
 spiritual tendencies. In this connection the same may be said of 
 her relation to certain popular amusements and practices. Those 
 who are wavering as to these will be greatly strengthened by her 
 well-defined opinions. In neither word nor conduct was she du- 
 bious or hesitating as to any practice she believed to be detrimental 
 to a pure and earnest Christianity. 
 
 At the present time, when many pious and intelligent Friends
 
 PREFACE. V 
 
 are reopening the question of rejecting the ordinances of Baptism 
 and the Lord's Supper, the reader will be interested to find Mrs. 
 Platt at an early age giving deep and earnest thought to this sub- 
 ject. These investigations resulted in her entrance into that re- 
 ligious communion at whose portals stand these ordinances like the 
 pillars of Jachin and Boaz of old, bringing with her the ardent, 
 spiritual life, and insight of the revered people she left. 
 
 These papers are the memorials of a representative of the true 
 coming woman. Spiritual and intellectual liberty, activity and 
 growth, are now recognized and appropriated by women as never 
 before. These, with a correct and strong intuition, she claimed 
 as her birthright. A faithful daughter of the King, these pages 
 will develop how that relation made royal the lowliest duties of life 
 at the bidding of her loyal heart, and with the touch of her loyal 
 hands. 
 
 H. C. McCABE. 
 
 Giving to this work the spare minutes and hours of the past four 
 years and a half, accumulating the material for it, but failing the 
 promised assistance to arrange it for publication, it seemed inevit- 
 able that it should remain incomplete for a long time, if not for- 
 ever. But at the hour of greatest despondency help providentially 
 came. Two dear and loving friends of the departed one, agreed 
 to assume the difficult task of selecting from the mass of papers at 
 hand, and of arranging- them for publication ; and it is but just 
 that the valuable and timely assistance, so freely and cheerfully 
 given, should here be acknowledged. 
 
 Some may be disposed to criticize this work, and to say that 
 most of the letters herein published were strictly private, and never 
 intended for the public, and to so expose the writer's secret thoughts 
 and expressions of affection is indelicate, and not what she would 
 have approved, that she would have shrunk from such exposure 
 of her inner life.
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 To this we reply : so fully was Mrs. Platt imbued with the spirit 
 of charity, in the most comprehensive Gospel sense of that word, 
 that, if convinced that anything she had ever written or said would 
 give pleasure and do good to others, she would not only willingly, 
 but gladly, consent to have it so used. 
 
 With discreetness in conversation, she combined the utmost fear- 
 lessness and frankness in giving expression to her thoughts and 
 feelings. Her kindly, loving words were always the promptings 
 of her warm, generous heart. 
 
 It may not be inappropriate to say that the compiler's first pur- 
 pose was to prepare a small memorial volume for the use, first, of 
 her children and grandchildren, and so preserve for them her pre- 
 cious letters; and, second, to give a copy to each of her friends 
 who would appreciate such a book. But, as the work progressed, 
 the material increased to such an extent as to make it difficult to 
 decide what to reject, all seeming so excellent. Therefore, following 
 the advice of those whose judgment and correct taste could not be 
 questioned, and whose opinions were that the papers would, if pub- 
 lished, make a contribution to Christian literature too valuable to 
 be lost, and should, by all means, be given to the public, the 
 decision was made to publish the papers as now presented. 
 
 Mrs. Platt's life not being an eventful one, the narrative will be 
 of interest chiefly to her relatives; but it serves the purpose of 
 connecting links between the different periods of her life, and 
 helps to show the stages of development of her bright and beautiful 
 Christian character. 
 
 C. P. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, September, 1882.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 I. 
 
 Introductory Letters from Rev. E. H. Canfield, D.D., and Rev. S. H. 
 Tyng, Sen., D.D 17 
 
 II. 
 
 Parentage Birth Biography of early life Visit to Lancaster and Cincin- 
 nati, O., 1831-32 Baptism Illness of her brother James 
 
 III. 
 
 Letters to Mary H. Christmas, 1839 Devotion to her brother James His 
 death, 1840 Letters from Mrs. Bedell and Rev. Dr. Tyng ... 29 
 
 IV. 
 
 1840-1846 Point Pleasant Letters to her sister Martha My birthday, 
 1843 Clear views of the doctrine of justification by faith Visit to 
 Harrisburgh, Lewisburg, and Blue Hill A literary hermit Letter to 
 E. G. H. Brookfield Rev. D. A. Tyng Death of her parents Let- 
 ters to H. W. B. and Mrs. R. Harrison, "mother" Marriage of her 
 sister Martha a great loss Letters to her sister M. and Rev. Dr. Damon 37 
 
 V. 
 
 Comes to Ohio First impressions Happiness of her sister, Mrs. Canfield, 
 in her New Home. Oct. 1846 March, 1847 
 
 VI. 
 
 New acquaintances Engagement Letters to her husband before mar- 
 riage Strength of religious character Return to Brookfield -via Lake 
 Erie and New York Marriage and return to Ohio. 1847 7 
 
 (vii)
 
 Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 VII. PAGE 
 
 Happiness of her married life Birth of first child Visit to Columbus 
 Rev. D. A. Tyng Rev. Dr. Canfield returns East with his family 
 Birth of second child Pleasant visit from W. A. P. and wife Letters 
 to her sister Martha. March, 1848, to December, 1850 ... 80 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Trip to New York Spends the summer in New York, Philadelphia, and 
 New Jersey Lines fallen in pleasant places Heaven is our home Can- 
 not love each other too much, but must love God supremely. May to 
 September, 1851 89 
 
 IX. 
 
 Letter from Mrs. Canfield describing a visit from Rev. S. C. Damon A 
 valued old friend The love of Christian friends A realization of the 
 heavenly meeting Mrs. Canfield to Rev. S. C. Damon A beautiful 
 prayer Sunnyside Rev. E. H. C. to Mrs. Platt Mrs. Platt to her 
 sister A blessing. 1851101854 99 
 
 X. 
 
 Goes to New York Illness and death of her sister Martha Beautiful ex- 
 amples of sisterly affection A privilege to see a Christian die. August, 
 1855 105 
 
 XI. 
 
 Visit to Gambier Diocesan Convention Pleasant greetings Trip to Mis- 
 souri with her cousin Mrs. Maccracken W. A. P. Gratitude for atten- 
 tion A night of diversion Hurrah for Ohio girls and Iowa develop- 
 ment St. Louis First impressions of Missouri Rose Hill Beau ideal 
 of a country house Her aunt's delightful home Her uncle's missionary 
 work. May, 1856, to Oct. 1858 ill 
 
 XII. 
 
 Letters from Dr. Tyng at Gambier and New York First letter to Rev. 
 S. C. Damon after marriage Pleasant reminiscences A peep at my 
 children Twenty-two years have passed, but friendship remains as fresh 
 and strong as ever. June, 1 860, to September, 1861 . . . .119 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Trip to Philadelphia General E An agreeable travelling com- 
 panion Brookfield Burlington Kindly greeting Not a day older 
 Contentment. September to November, 1863 . . . . .128
 
 CONTENTS. IX 
 
 XIV. PAGE 
 
 A hospitable house Death of her husband's mother Letters to her daugh- 
 ter E. Her husband Rev. Dr. Damon Not a Yankee woman born to 
 command Numerous household duties, sixteen knees and one hundred 
 toes To her son H., on the importance of a godly life To S. C. D. 
 Model friendship, warm, pure, and true Visit from Samuel Damon 
 Letter to Brother John Floating island Pictures of her children Not 
 " book children" A happy family Views of dancing To Rev. S. C. D. 
 Her daughter E. in New York A happy Christmas Attention to Mr. 
 
 P y He becomes interested in the P. E. Church Gift of a Prayer 
 
 Book Birthday letter to her daughter E. Delightful visit from Rev. 
 Dr. Damon, wife, and son, and Rev. Dr. Canfield To L. E. S. Mat- 
 rimony Mistakes and missteps Happiness not the great object of life 
 A fearful venture No true union of hearts and hands without God's 
 blessing. September, 1864, to January, 1872 133 
 
 XV. 
 
 Goes East with Mrs. McC. A loving arrangement Congenial spirits St. 
 Barnabas House, N. Y. Atlantic City The wide, wide ocean De- 
 lightful meeting of friends W. J. Allison The Dewdrop Miss 
 Harland, her former Bible-class teacher Hulmeville Boat ride on the 
 Neshaminy Up the Hudson Mott Farm, Highlands A picture 
 Giving pleasure. June to September, 1872 ...... 162 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Letters to Mrs. Maccracken S. C. D. L. E. S. H. P. Death of her 
 brbther John Our loved ones who have gone before are still near to us 
 Visit to Toledo George Eliot's books Opinion of other authors A 
 happy home Views of marriage A higher school Old Florence dial, 
 " I count the hours that shine." September, 1872, to December, 1874 . 169 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Trip to Philadelphia First grandchild A tiny bud Bishop Jaggar, his 
 consecration Return home with her daughter and child. March to 
 June, 1875 185 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Letters to Dr. Damon Jean P. S. A six months'-birthday, a sixty years' 
 birthday, the happiest, gladdest, brightest of her life A word picture 
 Taine's English literature To F. W. Damon, Mrs. W. B. M. Last letter 
 to her husband Thirtieth anniversary Facing life's sunset To Rev. 
 G. W. D. November, 1875, to July, 1877 19
 
 X CONTENTS. 
 
 XIX. PAGE 
 
 Letters to a nephew J. H. C. Heait-ta-lks Deep interest in the spiritual 
 development of the son of her dearly-loved sister. 1865 to 1874 . . 209 
 
 XX. 
 
 Correspondence with Mrs. E. Bedell Benjamin Valued letters Bright 
 points of light Bible studies Raven's food Pictures A white raven 
 Home pictures. 1871101875. . . ... . . 252 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Letters to Miss Snell Treasures of friendship A Mayflower Afraid of 
 N. E. college air New England greatness Nest robbed The mother's 
 lot. 1873 to 1874 271 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Miscellaneous Christmas eve, Christmas day, a joyous season all over the 
 house A nice long breakfast F. W. D.'s sketch of a Christmas scene 
 in Ohio Letter to Bishop Bedell To President Merrick Autumn of 
 life John S. Hart Questions for the pulpit Criticism of " Middle- 
 march" " Sex in Education" Letters to a godchild, with a tribute to 
 
 her brother * 277 
 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Sympathy for the afflicted Letters from Mrs. Preston, Mrs. C. Todd, Mrs. 
 Merrick Bishop Mcllvaine To Mrs. McC., Mrs. L. C. From Bishop 
 Jaggar, Miss Snell .......... 299 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Correspondence with Mrs. Anne E. Thomson Beloved, sympathetic friends 
 Death of Bishop Thomson of the M. E. Church Oneness in all sor- 
 row Stricken hearts comforted My little comfort; poem by Mrs. T. 
 Mrs. Plait's last letter of sympathy. 1870-77 307 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Obituary Closing days Instructions for burial 1877 Private paper to 
 
 her husband. 1848 315 
 
 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Sympathy Consolation Letters from James C., Dr. Merrick, Mrs. La 
 Croix, Dr. Damon, Rev. C. T. W., Bishop Jaggar .... 320
 
 CONTENTS. XI 
 
 XXVII. PAGE 
 
 Tributes From S. C. D. A sister's tribute, poem From Mrs. R., Mrs. E. 
 V. F., E. H. C. Mrs. A. T., a beautiful picture J. H. C., F. \V. D., 
 music and poetry Her life a lesson and inspiration From a student 
 Deep sorrow A model wife Ladies' Missionary Society, Mrs. J. H. 
 Platt scholarship H. C. M. E. G. H. S. R. B. Reminiscences, 
 strong Christian principle, consideration for the aged Original poem . 328 
 
 4 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 The old parish church The funeral of Dr. Dorr ..... 344
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 17 
 
 I. 
 
 " The memory of the just is blessed." 
 
 Introductory Letters from Rev. E. H. Canfield, D.D., and 
 Rev. S. H. Tyng, Sen., D.D. 
 
 THE idea of perpetuating, in this form, the life of this noble 
 woman, was suggested by the following circumstance : 
 
 The day after she had "entered into rest," two personal friends 
 called to tender their kindly sympathies. They said, "This griev- 
 ous loss is not yours alone, Mr. Platt ; it is our loss ; it is a loss- 
 to the whole community." 
 
 Thence came the thought, " If this be so, do not such rare and 
 beautiful traits of character belong in a certain sense to the church 
 and all who will receive the truth as it is in Jesus, as set forth in< 
 the life of this true * member of Christ and child of God ?' Why 
 not let her ' light so shine before men that they, seeing her good 
 works, may glorify our Father which is in heaven,' to whom she 
 ever ascribed all the glory for all that she possessed of the graces 
 of the Spirit. And how can that better be done than by a memo- 
 rial volume?" 
 
 The more the idea was dwelt upon, the more appropriate it 
 seemed to be to render a memorial of such a life, and when it came 
 to be spoken of, first in the family, and then to the dear friends of 
 the departed one, all gave such cordial approval to the plan as to 
 lead to the resolve to attempt its execution. Then came the ques- 
 tions, "How shall it be done? How can such a character and 
 life as was Mrs. Platt's be even faintly portrayed, and who is com- 
 petent and willing to undertake the difficult task?"
 
 l8 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 Proposals were made to her own sisters and to other relatives and 
 friends of her early days, but all seemed to shrink from it as a 
 subject they did not feel equal to, realizing how impossible it would 
 be to attain a result that should not, after all, prove only shadowy 
 and inadequate. This conviction is well expressed in a letter from 
 one who knew her well, Rev. Dr. Canfield. He writes : 
 
 "Mrs. Mitchell informs me that you contemplate preparing a 
 brief biography of your sainted wife. If her true character, spirit, 
 and life could be set forth even approximately, on paper, no biog- 
 raphy ever written would excel it in bright and wholesome lessons. 
 This, I am persuaded, no pen can do. 
 
 " For six or seven years before you first saw her at my house, I 
 had frequently met her in society and in her home at Burlington 
 and Brookfield. The first time we met (in 1838 or 1839) I felt that 
 she was endowed with rare charms and attractions. My admiration 
 grew with our further acquaintance, and ripened into the most un- 
 reserved confidence and affectionate regard. During her residence 
 with us in Delaware, of over a year before your marriage, I was 
 sick a large part of the time, while her sister was also laid aside 
 from active duty. She was nurse- to both of us and jto the baby, 
 and, at the same time, housekeeper, and the centre of attraction in 
 the parish. I shall never forget her nights of uncomplaining, 
 cheerful watchfulness, and her days of earnest, cheerful sympathy 
 and care. She never tired, never evinced the faintest symptom of 
 selfishness. I have never met, nor heard of, her equal in this 
 respect. And yet, with all this, she contrived to keep up an interest 
 in much of the literature of the day, and to flood every social circle 
 in her way with brightness. It was not a blaze of mirth that marked 
 her presence, but a radiance of just that degree and quality of light 
 which clothes every object in its best color, and gives it its most 
 attractive form. This pervaded her whole life's history. You 
 know what I mean, but none except personal friends can be made 
 to understand it. After you have done all in your power, you 
 must fail of presenting anything like a just portrait of the original." 
 
 Failing to find any one willing to undertake the work, it seemed 
 to devolve upon the writer to do as best he could ; and he deemed 
 it the better plan to make it a work of compilation from her num- 
 erous letters, written to her own loved ones, and to dear, valued
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 19 
 
 friends, and so let her own thoughts thus freely expressed delineate 
 her beautiful character. 
 
 The large number of her letters, returned and in possession, 
 brought with them the realization of the difficulties to be overcome. 
 At the same time, there also came an overwhelming sense of the 
 vast amount of work accomplished by Mrs. Platt during her mar- 
 ried life in the way of correspondence. How she found opportunity 
 for so much letter-writing as she accomplished, and yet neglected 
 no daily household duties, which, with the care of seven children, 
 would seem to have been sufficiently numerous to occupy all her 
 time, one can hardly understand. Her family duties were never 
 slighted, for she lived eminently in the present, and acted upon the 
 injunction, "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy 
 might." 
 
 It may not be inappropriate, in connection with this point, to 
 mention that Mrs. Platt was impressed with the belief that her days 
 upon earth were to be few ; and after marriage she often spoke of 
 it, not, in any sense, with a gloomy foreboding, but as an event 
 to be provided for in all her plans. This seemed strange in one so 
 endowed with physical and mental energy, and whose enjoyment 
 of life was so vivid and intense. 
 
 The following note to her sister, Mrs. Mitchell, with its accom- 
 panying tribute to Mrs. Platt's character, is from the pen of the 
 venerable Dr. Tyng, whose acquaintance began in her childhood 
 days, and who was ever afterward warmly attached to her and 
 deeply interested in the development of her character. 
 
 IRVING COTTAGE HOME, Oct. 4, 1877. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 I have thought much of the best way to do something more in 
 remembrance of our dear Jeanette some tribute which I should 
 have great pleasure in preparing as I may have opportunity. . . . 
 . A small volume might be prepared which would make a handy 
 gift, and, perhaps, a useful book for other rising girls: such ex- 
 amples are very vital and effective, because within the reach of and 
 attainable by all. 
 
 With much regard, 
 
 Your faithful friend, 
 
 STEPHEN H. TYNG.
 
 20 -INTRODUCTORY DR. TYNG. 
 
 Subsequently, in Nov. 1878, Dr. Tyngsent the following: 
 "In my residence and ministry in Philadelphia from 1829, Mrs. 
 Platt was under my observation and pastoral notice and care for 
 some years. She was thirteen years of age at the time of my first 
 personal acquaintance with her. She had a sister very near her 
 own age, subsequently married to Rev. Dr. Canfield. The two 
 sisters were entirely united in mutual affection, and very similar in 
 external character and education. They appeared together in such 
 perfect equality and unity of taste and experience, that they seemed 
 rather as twins than as differing in age. Their place of birth and 
 early education was the quiet and beautiful town of Burlington, in 
 New Jersey, on the Delaware River. Here Jeanette, of whom I 
 now particularly speak, grew up in a happy childhood, active and 
 sprightly in temperament and habit, accustomed to exercise in the 
 open air, and though small in figure, yet full of health and youthful 
 vigor. Her form was remarkable for symmetry and grace; her 
 features were delicate and attractive, and she became in her lively 
 but soft and pleasing manners, welcomed in society, and was en- 
 compassed always with friends. Thus she came under my notice, 
 at the period I have stated, the joy and idol of a large circle who 
 delighted in her society, and were made happy by her presence. 
 
 "Her parents were of the Society of Friends; and the calm and 
 gentle manners of the females of that society were united in her 
 with strong intelligence and agreeable powers of conversation. 
 She was very precocious in mind and character, and, at the period 
 of my first acquaintance with her, appeared in information and de- 
 portment quite in advance of her actual age. Both of these sisters 
 became, quite early, true disciples of Jesus and ' daughters of the 
 Lord Almighty.' Their brother, James Hulme, was a young man- 
 of eminent piety and of unusual intelligence, though having no par- 
 ticular advantages of early literary acquirements. This dear young 
 man consecrated himself to the ministry of the Episcopal Church, 
 and rapidly grew in knowledge and character adapted to the sacred 
 ministry which he desired, but for the public exercise of which his 
 life was not prolonged. Under his personal influence, to a great 
 extent, the religious character of these sisters was formed and their 
 religious intelligence advanced. They constituted a threefold cord 
 which is not quickly broken. Their separation from the religious 
 body to which their parents belonged, and in connection with
 
 DR. TYNG. 21 
 
 which their early years had been spent, was, doubtless, trying to 
 their affection. But there was nothing in the parental care under 
 which they had been nurtured to enhance the difficulty; and brother 
 and sister came forward together to connect themselves with the 
 Protestant Episcopal Church. They were earnestly attached to 
 each other, and in their mutual love and fellowship they found 
 great comfort and support."
 
 22 THE HULME FAMILY. 
 
 II. 
 
 " With my whole heart have I sought Thee. 
 O let me not wander from Thy commandments." 
 
 Parentage Birth Biography of early life Visit to Lancaster and Cincinnati, 
 O., 1831-32 Baptism Illness of her brother James. 
 
 OCTOBER 3, 1782, in the beautiful little city of Burlington, New 
 Jersey, John Hulme, the son of George and Jeanette Hulme, was 
 born. 
 
 George Hulme was a Friend or Quaker, and his wife, Jeanette 
 Neale, a member of the "Church of England"; for those were 
 days when the Episcopal Church of this country was still a recog- 
 nized'part of the mother Church. 
 
 The ancestors of the Hulme family came to this country from 
 Cheshire, England, about 1700, and settled in Middletown town- 
 ship, Bucks County, Pennsylvania. They were possessed of energy 
 and intelligence, and by marriage connected with some of the best 
 families of the country. John Hulme, the elder brother of George 
 Hulme, was a man of much influence socially and politically, a 
 prosperous business man, a member of the Legislature of Pennsyl- 
 vania, the founder of Hulmeville, Bucks County, and for many 
 years the President of the Bucks County Bank. 
 
 George Hulme moved to Burlington, New Jersey, when quite a 
 young man, married, and resided there until his death in 1808. 
 He, while deficient in the business talents of his brother, was a 
 man of marked literary tastes, and though living at a period when 
 the practical duties of life called for constant energy and diligence, 
 he found time to read all the best histories of his day, and stored 
 his memory with the ancient and more modern poets, having the 
 Iliad, Odyssey, Cicero's Orations, Milton's and Young's poems,
 
 BIRTH OF JEANETTE HULME. 23 
 
 so entirely his own, that he would entertain his little family by the 
 hour with his favorite passages. A favorite book for his evening 
 reading was "Hervey's Meditations on the Starry Heavens," to 
 which his two children were required to give patient attention, and 
 to which they learned to listen with especial delight. It was not 
 strange, therefore, that they grew up with tastes similar to those of 
 their parents. 
 
 His wife was a woman of fine sensibilities, intelligence, and 
 deep piety. Her children from their earliest years received from 
 her the most careful religious instruction; and the Bible, even then 
 more than a hundred years old, from which the daily lessons were 
 read, still remains a treasured memento of her faithful teachings. 
 Through years of patient suffering, her lovely Christian character 
 endeared her not only to her two devoted children, but to all who 
 had the privilege of knowing her. 
 
 With such teaching, and such examples, their son John grew to 
 manhood, a man of earnest, conscientious character, intelligent, 
 and energetic, but without especial attachment to either the Church 
 of his mother or to the Society of Friends, until, at the age of 
 twenty-two, he married Martha Craft, of Burlington, a member of 
 the Society, and from that time became in all except actual mem- 
 bership a Quaker. His children were all brought up as members 
 of the "meeting," but as they attained the age to act for them- 
 selves they returned to the Church of their grandmother, becoming 
 earnest Episcopalians. 
 
 From the time of his marriage in 1804 John Hulme's family 
 resided in and near Burlington, where all of their children were 
 born. These were eight in number: Sarah, George, James, John, 
 Jeanette, Martha, Annie, and Ellen, of whom only two survive. 
 
 In the year 1840 the family moved to a beautiful place on the 
 banks of the Delaware River, near to Burlington, known as "Point 
 Pleasant," where they lived happily for five years, until April, 
 1845, when they moved to Brookfield, Pa., of which place, and of 
 the sorrow that came to the family there, more extended informa- 
 tion is given hereafter. 
 
 Their fifth child and second daughter, the subject of these 
 memoirs, was born Feb. 25, 1816, and was named for her sainted 
 grandmother. She was a beautiful, sprightly child, with a sweet
 
 24 SCHOOL-DAYS. 
 
 voice, and a winning joyousness of disposition, which, with an ever 
 overflowing kindness of heart, made her most attractive. 
 
 Her sister, Martha, two years her junior, was quite as remarkable 
 for her gentle, quiet, and studious habits, and the very contrast in 
 their character seemed a bond of union between them. Rarely are 
 found two sisters so unlike, yet so warmly united in tender love 
 as were these. This sister in early life developed a talent .for 
 writing both poetry and prose, and became the author of several 
 books published by the American Sunday School Union ; in one 
 of which she gives this loving and truthful picture of Jeanette 
 when a school-girl: "At school her beauty and sprightlinessmade 
 her the pet of all ; it was she who contrived all our amusements, 
 planned all our excursions into the neighboring country, drew up 
 all our petitions for a holiday or a walk, and, indeed, it was im- 
 possible for any party of pleasure to succeed without her. She was 
 full of life and gayety, and her sparkling and innocent vivacity 
 could enliven the dullest hour. I do not say she always studied 
 when she ought, or did not sometimes disturb our gravity during 
 school hours by her mirth, and thus occasion herself trouble, as 
 well as the rest of us ; but then she was always sorry for her offence, 
 and so anxious that we should not share her punishment that we 
 could not but forgive and love her still. 
 
 "Our teacher was tenderly attached to her light-hearted pupil, 
 and sought most anxiously to implant in her young breast those 
 holy principles of conduct that would give a right direction to the 
 warm impulses of her nature, and make them productive of real 
 good to herself and others. Her prayers and efforts seemed for a 
 time unsuccessful, but such precious seed is never sown in vain. 
 Jeanette left school a gay, attractive girl, still without any founda- 
 tion for happiness but the ' broken cisterns ' of earth. How little 
 could any human eye foresee how peculiarly one so fitted to shine 
 in scenes of pleasure and to win the admiration of a flattering world 
 would need the support that only the Gospel can afford !" 
 
 From a letter written by her old school friend (now Mrs. H. 
 W. B. ), giving some illustrations of Mrs. Plait's character when a 
 school-girl at Trenton (N. J.). After speaking of her lovely quali- 
 ties, she says : " Her compositions were always good and original, 
 displaying at that time her gift for writing, which she improved in 
 after years. When our teacher concluded the week by reading our
 
 VISIT TO OHIO 1831. / 25 
 
 essays on Saturday morning, Jeanette's, racy and entertaining, were 
 always reserved to the last as a special treat." 
 
 In the autumn of 1831 she went in company with Mr. and Mrs. 
 S. F. Maccracken to Lancaster, Ohio, to visit her cousin, Mrs. M., 
 the journey being made in their own private carriage. 
 
 Mrs. M. was a lady of education, strong character, and strict 
 religious principles, and was warmly attached to her young cousin. 
 Under her care and instruction Jeanette remained for some months, 
 when a promised visit to her father's only sister, in Cincinnati, was 
 claimed, and in the following summer she left Lancaster for that 
 city. A daughter of this aunt thus writes about this visit : 
 
 "I shall never forget the day we received notice that she would 
 leave Lancaster, nor the anxiety of my mother about that journey 
 which then took nearly two days. It was at noonday when the 
 distant sound of the horn announced the approach of the stage in 
 which we expected her. Myself and sisters were looking forward 
 with expectations of great pleasure to the arrival of a cousin, 
 daughter of our mother's only and dearly loved brother. It 
 was a lovely June day. Our garden was fragrant with roses that 
 ran in luxuriant beauty over all sides of the house. We stood in 
 the door as our father and mother went out to the garden gate to 
 welcome the young stranger. I well remember how she threw her 
 arms around my mother's neck and their tears flowing together; 
 the one shedding those of warm affection, the other of devout thank- 
 fulness 'that the Lord had brought the dear child' in safety to 
 loving hearts. How beautiful she looked when, throwing off her 
 bonnet and cape, she stood with her dark curls flowing over her 
 neck and shoulders, and her face beaming with smiles.* 
 
 "When the hour for evening prayer came, she knelt by 'dear 
 Auntie;' and my father in his fervent words 'thanked the Lord 
 for his protecting care in the safe arrival of the young stranger 
 who had come for a time to be one of us.' 
 
 "But these days of pleasant intercourse were but few, and the joy- 
 ousness of her spirit was soon subdued, as she joined my mother 
 in watching by my bed of almost fatal illness. What a comfort 
 
 * Her eyes were of a lively blue, which, with her soft complexion, gave one 
 the impression of a blonde, notwithstanding the dark brown color of her hair, 
 which was abundant and curling. She was rather below medium height.
 
 26 CONVERSION. 
 
 she was! Tender, gentle, and loving, ever ready to do anything 
 to aid my mother in her cares. All this was a new life to her, and 
 the words of daily prayer that rose from anxious hearts in that dark 
 hour, seemed to waken new sympathies in her heart, and struck 
 that cord of deep spiritual sensibilities that was to vibrate through 
 all the coming years of that beautiful life. 
 
 " I had hardly regained strength to leave my room, when the 
 angel of death that had passed me by laid his cold hand on bur 
 beloved father, and with only three days' illness took him from us. 
 Jeanette was everything to mother then, and when the time came 
 for her to return home, she left us with new and serious thoughts 
 of woman's true life before her. Some time after her return home 
 she wrote my mother : ' The first really serious thoughts I ever 
 had, dear Auntie, were when with you I learned that there was 
 something else to live for than a life of selfish enjoyment.' In the 
 month of August, 1832, she returned home under the care of some 
 friends of her father." 
 
 And now the blessed teachings of Jeanette's childhood came 
 back, and accompanied by those of the Holy Spirit, not only dis- 
 covered to her the unsatisfactory nature of all earthly joys, but 
 convinced her of her own heart's deep sinfulness, a sense of which 
 caused her to pass through a period of painful depression and suf- 
 fering. When she finally emerged from this sorrowful struggle, it 
 was to enter into the fulness of a light and joy which followed a 
 very marked conversion. And so, while still in life's beautiful 
 springtime, she gladly turned from all that had once so satisfied 
 her, to find Jesus; sat down at his feet, and bent her young neck 
 to receive His yoke, that became ever afterwards as easy to her 
 love as were His burdens light to her soul. 
 
 Her Christian course was onward and upward ever after, as 
 with full consent she consecrated to God all her power of winning 
 notice and affection, her brilliant conversational talents, and those 
 natural gifts that had rendered her so fascinating as a companion 
 and friend. 
 
 It was with a deepening religious experience that she now 
 approached the season of her public consecration of herself to 
 Christ and his Church ; and the occasion to her was one of deep 
 solemnity and much earnest feeling, when, at the age of eighteen, 
 with her brother John, she was baptized, and afterwards with him
 
 BAPTISM^CONFIRMATION. 27 
 
 confirmed by Bishop Doane in St. Mary's Church, Burlington; 
 three members of their family having before united with St. 
 Andrew's Church, Philadelphia, then under the pastoral care of 
 Rev. Dr. G. T. Bedell. 
 
 Something of the deep feeling with which she entered on this 
 public profession of Christ is manifested in the following extract 
 from a letter, requesting her eldest sister to be one of her witnesses 
 on this occasion: "It is my earnest request that, if in the future 
 you should find me in the smallest degree deviating from the right 
 path, you will immediately, with all the faithfulness which as a 
 sister and witness may be expected from you, remind me of the 
 solemn vow, promise, and profession that I have made. I am so 
 surrounded by temptations, and so easily turned aside, that I very 
 much fear you will often be pained by my inconsistencies. May 
 we trust only to that strength which is made perfect in weakness." 
 
 Scarcely had the first question of every renewed heart, " Lord, 
 what wilt Thou have me to do?" passed her lips, before a path of 
 self-denying duty opened before her, and for which her natural 
 powers eminently fitted her. It was not to glorify Him in the 
 midst of the temptations of society, and to "adorn the doctrine of 
 God her Saviour," in the discharge of a public station that the 
 Lord now called his young servant, but placed her instead in the 
 chamber of sickness and death. Affliction followed affliction in 
 the circle of those dear to her, and as she was again and again 
 called to an unusual ministry of sorrow, the bright and cheery love 
 and devotion she brought to this altar of sacrifice, told how true 
 and sincere had been her final dedication to Christ. No hand 
 could now so well smooth the pillow, or administer consolation to 
 the sick and dying as hers. It was to her that the weary eye 
 turned for comfort. It was her voice that, though her own heart 
 was bursting with its suppressed anguish, could still speak in cheer- 
 ful tones the words of consolation. 
 
 Among the sad duties assigned to her during these years was 
 that of enlightening and solacing the weary days of a beloved in- 
 valid brother, who, being laid aside from active duty, passed 
 through months and years of languor and disease, and having "en- 
 dured as seeing Him who is invisible," at length found rest in the 
 bosom of his God. Her elasticity of spirits and vivacity of manner 
 were all brought into use to beguile and support the patient sufferer.
 
 28 FAITHFUL TO DUTIES. 
 
 How much these were to him, springing, as they did, from the 
 never-failing hopes of the Gospel, only those to whom God hath 
 appointed days of weariness and pain can appreciate. In addition 
 to this constant sorrow, the loved mother, by reason of ill' health, 
 became unable to fulfil her duties, and then Jeanette was the 
 burden-bearer in that home. She was beloved by brothers and 
 sisters who were older, and looked up to for direction and affec- 
 tion by those who were younger. 
 
 [This biographical sketch is taken principally from her sister Martha's book 
 before referred to, and from notes furnished by her cousin, Rebecca S. Price.]
 
 LETTERS TO MARY HARRISON. 29 
 
 III. 
 
 " There shall be no more death." 
 
 Letters to Mary H. Christmas, 1839 Devotion to her brother James His death, 
 1840 Letters from Mrs. Bedell and Rev. Dr Tyng. 
 
 TO MARY HARRISON. 
 
 BURLINGTON, Nov. 1838. 
 
 IT is a great secret, dear Mary, that I am writing to you to-night, 
 no one does, no one must know anything about it I am writing 
 just to please myself. To begin with myself as most important, I 
 am in the kitchen seated on my "high stool" by the breakfast 
 table writing to cousin Mary. Father and mother are in the parlor, 
 the former reading newspapers; the latter, perhaps, darning stock- 
 ings. A. and E. are at present making sundry noises upstairs, 
 indicating a preparation for bed. (N. B. "Luce" has just called 
 down for me to "excuse the interruption of her shoe falling down 
 the 'hole,' and begs I will remember to bring it upstairs when I 
 come.") 
 
 James and I went to Philadelphia, as aunt told you; though it 
 was inconvenient to leave home so unexpectedly at this season, I 
 thought it right to go with James. It took me several days to feel 
 at home in Philadelphia, as you know I do so dislike a city; and 
 just as I was beginning to feel comfortable father wrote down to 
 know if one of the other girls could not take my place, as I was 
 wanted at home. Ann brought me the message on Monday, 
 stayed the night, and took me off next morning to the boat before 
 6 o'clock; I say "took," for I am sure I would never have done 
 all this but for her perseverance; she slept with me in a little bed 
 in James's room, and had me bright and early awake, dressed, and
 
 30 SELF-CONDEMNED. 
 
 walking to the boat while the moon and stars were yet shining 
 brightly. Father brought James home on Friday; he had been 
 somewhat better during part of his visit, but that day was quite un- 
 well. . . . Early on Monday morning Eliza (our girl) was taken 
 sick and obliged to leave us ; our washerwoman stayed till noon, 
 and from that time I have been mistress of the kitchen no envia- 
 ble situation, I assure you, in buckwheat-cake times! To, be sure 
 we have a nice little black girl who will run whenever and wherever 
 I wish, but she cannot work. Truly, a woman's life is trying ! so 
 much do we have to do and bear for the "lords of creation!" 
 One poor finger is burnt here, another there my face suffused with 
 a blush too deep and durable to be natural. Oh ! I cannot tell you 
 half my troubles in this way ; suffice it to say, I am cook. But 
 what is worse than all I am cross, selfish, and everything that is 
 unpleasant and wrong, and yet think myself everything that is 
 nice. Of one thing I am assured, I never knew myself before, 
 would never have believed I had such a bad disposition. I do 
 "hope" I shall not feel this way when I am an "old maid." . . . . 
 I am not patient and kind, seeking first to make those around 
 me happy, but selfish, so selfish, I get worried and tired, and sadly 
 out of humor with myself and everybody ; those about me know 
 but little how I feel : dear James said to me to night as I was "fixing 
 him in his bed," " Jeanette, this has been one of my bad, cross 
 days, and yesterday was one of yours." I have often intended to 
 write what I would not say. Will cousin Mary remember me daily? 
 I will not thank, you, can only say, the Lord will repay. May He 
 be our ruler and guide, that we may so pass through things tem- 
 poral, that we finally lose not the things eternal ! We are ignorant, 
 proud, and averse to all that is good.; our only trust is in Him who 
 is "the way, the truth, and the life," who loves us as we are, and 
 who is leading us by ways we know not to Himself. .... 
 Sarah Richards and Matt, left us this morning in early boat ; I am 
 glad I can say my temper rather improved while she was here, and 
 the last few days I have not been so cross ; this is owing, I think, 
 partly to the happy influence of writing to you, dear cousin, and 
 this is another reason why you must let me write to you often. 
 
 I am still mistress of the kitchen, and am considered to have 
 brought the art of cooking almost to perfection this, I believe, is 
 John's testimony, though only borne when he sees I am in a
 
 NINE DEAR COUSINS. 3! 
 
 "bother," which is quite often enough for comfort. Indeed, I 
 despair of ever keeping house like cousin Rebecca, so calm, quiet, 
 and everything that is right, who is not only happy herself but dif- 
 fuses happiness to all around. But it is a great comfort to have 
 such "nice" relations, even if you are not "nice" yourself. You 
 must expect to see me look and act ten years older (quite matronly, 
 etc. etc., now that I have assumed such new responsibilities). It 
 is now high time to call me "our old cousin Jeanette" but re- 
 member, though I am so old and venerable, my young relations 
 are as dear as ever; I am as much interested in their happiness, 
 and hope yet to prove to them how useful and happy old maids 
 can be. 
 
 BURLINGTON, April 3, 1839. 
 
 . . . . Dear Mary, there were nine of us ! Nine dear 
 cousins professed the faith of Jesus, by partaking of the emblems 
 of his broken body and shed blood ! Oh ! may not only these, 
 but all dear to us, all united by the ties of kindred, know the ful- 
 filment of our Saviour's promise, "Whoever shall confess me be- 
 fore men, him will I also confess before my father which is in 
 heaven." .... You ask after James's health? This week 
 he has seemed much better, has been able to go into the garden a 
 few minutes at a time, and yesterday took with John his first walk 
 this year; went about a half square without much fatigue. But, 
 dear, it has been just so all winter; some weeks of comfortable 
 health, and others of suffering and weakness. I do not think I 
 shall leave him this summer. He told me one evening, when 
 quite unwell, that I must try and keep my spirits up, that he de- 
 pended upon me, he said, "I feel more comfortable with you than 
 any one else. You must try and stay with me as much as you 
 can." 
 
 SUNDAY EVE, Nov. 3, 1839. 
 
 . . . . And now, how can I tell you what I wish to? Dear 
 Mary, mother is well. Again her pleasant smile, gentle voice, and 
 all, all she ever was, is with us, bringing joy and gladness to our 
 fireside! How can we express our thankfulness to "Him from 
 whom cometh every good and perfect gift?" She returned from 
 Cousin Patty's on Friday last perfectly well; we had heard she
 
 32 CHRISTMAS A NEW PLAN. 
 
 was better, and were prepared to find her somewhat so but to find 
 her well, perfectly restored! Dear Cousin, it has seemed too, too 
 good to be true, and until to-day I have not fully believed it. It 
 is, I think, just one year since I wrote to you of mother's sickness, 
 told you (who I knew would so kindly listen) all my fears, my 
 griefs and sorrows. I remember I thought at first we never should 
 be happy again, but this was only a transient feeling. I hope I 
 then felt ''All is well." 
 
 CHRISTMAS, 1839. 
 
 I awoke this morning some time before the other girls, and as I 
 watched the morning light grow brighter and brighter, I remem- 
 bered it was the cheerful Christmas day, I thought of all that was 
 to have been, and all that is, of those sources of joy, reasons for 
 joy, that never can be taken away. It must ever be a "cheerful" 
 day ! None other can tell us so of Him who became man ! Who 
 took upon him our nature, that he might not only be all powerful 
 as our God, but all sympathy as man, our " brother !".... 
 I determined before I left my bed that this should be quite a nice 
 sort of Christmas, that I would try a new plan, and see how 
 "things would do." And you don't know-how "nicely" they 
 have done ! I concluded to try and make myself happy by making 
 others so. Now, this is a very fine thing to talk about, but quite 
 another thing to do, at least so says my experience. I only ask 
 credit for the resolution, for I must say, I have been several times 
 very naughty, and I am quite sure I heard some one say something 
 about "her being cross." And "Annie," who dined with me, 
 again and again said, "You are the queerest, the very queerest, 
 girl I ever did see." Indeed, dear Mary, I have made up my 
 mind that "Annie" is right. All that I attempt to say is, that I am 
 to no one more queer than to myself " a contradiction of contra- 
 dictions." .... I send you " Mrs. Breckenridge." There 
 is a something in it, dear Mary, that reminds me of " ourselves." 
 Some say it is a book about nothing, but it is not so to me, "she 
 lived and died." This may be, must be, all that can be said of 
 any one of "us." There is that fear, doubt, and timidity in her re- 
 ligious character that make her seem like a friend. I can say I 
 trembled for her when I found she was passing through the "dark 
 valley," and I never shall forget that her end was "peace." It
 
 JAMES HULME HIS DEATH. 33 
 
 seemed to say to me the weakest, the most fearful, most sinful, 
 shall be more than conquerors through Him who loved us. 
 
 But little is said of her, but to me that little is much. It re- 
 minded me of our long conversation last summer. She, 'tis said, 
 was always afraid to whisper, even to her dearest friend, her re- 
 ligious joys often afraid to tell her sorrow or the joy and peace 
 He had given, lest she should be found offering "strange fire" on 
 His altar. And yet she found there had ever been underneath her 
 the "everlasting arms." 
 
 Jeanette was especially devoted to her brother James. While 
 an invalid at home, and gradually passing away from earth, she 
 was his unwearied nurse, his cheering companion, and trusted 
 counsellor. His frequent depression was in some measure owing 
 to his having been obliged to relinquish his cherished hope of 
 preaching the Gospel of Christ, by reason of failing health. 
 
 One day during his illness (he was confined to his bed but a 
 single day) he spoke of their having been all so happy together, 
 and then, referring to his present weakness, he added, "Jeanette 
 tries to get me to live day by day 'as thy days, so shall thy strength 
 be.' ' She said, " You will find it so, dear; I am sure you will." 
 With the most touching simplicity he replied, "Jeanette tells me I 
 shall." Then preparing to lie down, he said in a tone of the 
 utmost tenderness, "I think we shall know each other hereafter; 
 I know we shall." 
 
 His head rested on that sister's bosom when he passed away, 
 gently as an infant falling to sleep, on the 2pth of February, 1840. 
 
 To MRS. GEORGE HARRISON, on the death of her brother James. 
 
 BRISTOL, Pa., March, 1840. 
 MY OWN DEAR COUSIN : 
 
 . . . We assemble around the table, gather around the 
 hearth, and are almost cheerful. We are not unhappy. Is not 
 our dear one missed ? Oh ! look into each heart, as the vacant 
 seat, the deserted chair, the absent quiet, gentle, and lovely face, 
 all tell the precious one has left us. Left us? No, not left us. 
 God has taken him ! He now rests on the bosom of his Redeemer. 
 Oh, my dearest cousin, we dare not weep ; we do not wish him 
 3
 
 34 LETTER FROM MRS. BEDELL. 
 
 back. Long has he been going home, and now he is safely folded 
 in his Father's arms in that rest which remaineth for the people of 
 God. Not for any righteousness which he has done, not for any 
 merit in himself, but for his Saviour's merit, for the sake of the 
 blood shed, the Lamb slain. This was his only hope. "The 
 blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin." "Blessed are the dead 
 who die in the Lord." 
 
 Thy 
 
 JEANETTE. 
 
 From MRS. BEDELL, widow of Rev. G. T. Bedell, D.D., Rector of St. 
 Andrew's Church, on the death of James Hulme, to his eldest sister. 
 
 March, 1840. 
 
 Still confined to the house by sickness, I assume, my afflicted 
 friend, to express on paper the feelings of a heart that has learned 
 to sympathize in the bitterness of experience. Bitterness did I 
 say? And has the Christian's cup of affliction no ingredient but 
 bitterness? Where are the "everlasting arms?" Where the 
 faith that looks beyond the grave, sees the captive drop his chains 
 of earth, and, washed in the blood of the Lamb, mount higher and 
 higher to mansions prepared in the skies ? A faithful follower of 
 the Lamb, he is not in the grave, but now with robes made white, 
 realizes those ecstatic joys found in the society of saints and angels ; 
 the mere -anticipation of which makes all things worthless to them 
 that remain. 
 
 Your brother's life was a beautiful unbroken consistency, exhibit- 
 ing in death that soft mellow light, which, like the rays of the set- 
 ting sun, we linger and love to look upon. The light is now gone 
 forever ; but far above our world will it rise in resplendent glory. 
 And shall we mourn for this? 
 
 The obituary in the "Recorder," my dear friend, has awakened 
 sad but sweet reminiscences; and having just heard that you had re- 
 turned to the city, I lay it down to give expression to my thoughts 
 as they arise, feeling that we can reciprocate sympathies. One 
 still remains unuttered sweeter than them all ; they have met! Ah, 
 enviable privilege! Pastor and people, one by one. There was 
 "no mourning there!" Our journey, my friend, will soon be over, 
 and we too shall know and be known. Blessed anticipation! Life
 
 REV. DR. TYNG TO JAMES HULME. 35 
 
 the only shadow, the dark valley between ; death and the grave 
 the open door to eternal joys. In faith and hope, my Christian 
 friend, we '11 journey on, in weariness refreshed with Gospel con- 
 solations, till our convoy is sent to bring us, too, to the consumma- 
 tion of the glorious promises. 
 
 With kindest regard to your afflicted sister, I remain yours in 
 bonds of Christian love. 
 
 P. BEDELL. 
 
 A few days before the death of James Hulme the following letter 
 was written to him by the Rev. Dr. Tyng: 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, Feb. 25, 1840. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND AND BROTHER : 
 
 I wrote you a few lines some weeks ago, wishing to do some little 
 thing, by the blessing of God, to encourage and edify you in your 
 time of trial. I have since heard frequently of you and of your con- 
 dition. Painful as it is even for a season to be separated from those 
 we love, I cannot but praise God that you are apparently so near 
 the beholding of Jesus in his glory, and sitting at His feet, to go no 
 more out from him. How happy is the prospect! How precious 
 will be the sight and the possession of that adorable Lord as your 
 own forever! He loved you before the foundation of the world;, 
 and He will love you when the world has ceased to exist. He 
 assumed, in a solemn and everlasting covenant, all your responsi- 
 bilities, both of suffering and obedience, and finished his under- 
 taking with infinite perfection. He sought you when you were 
 lying in your actual guilt, ready to perish, and led you to make a 
 mutual agreement with Him, that you would be His, and He would 
 be yours forever. And though you could bring Him nothing, and 
 could do nothing for him, He entered with you into an everlasting 
 partnership in which His riches of righteousness were to make up 
 for your total insolvency, His power to supply your entire weakness, 
 His wisdom to guide your erring ignorance, and His permanence 
 and unchangeable purpose to overrule and govern your fickleness 
 and unstable spirit. . . . He put into your possession His un- 
 limited atonement, His almighty power, His actual conquests, His 
 eternal habitation. . . . Now, are you not rich? Are you 
 not full? May you not reign in life as a king, by Him, even. 
 Jesus Christ?
 
 36 UNUTTERABLE BLESSEDNESS. 
 
 But does Unbelief ever say, "How can all this be? I have 
 brought Him nothing? I have done nothing for Him?" And 
 does Despondency echo, "Amen, so it is? How can you rejoice 
 in hope of the glory of God?" Let Faith answer, "My blessed 
 partner does not require anything, He finds everything. He ex- 
 pects nothing, He brings the whole. He is the same yesterday, 
 to-day, and forever. What He was when he first loved me, He 
 will remain to me forever, the source and fountain of all that I 
 need, of all that I can desire. And I fly from my sins to Him ; 
 and if I could find excellences in myself, I would fly from them, 
 too, just as certainly, and cast myself, poor and naked, upon Him, 
 that he might do all the work, and have all the glory." Oh, how 
 can I but say to you in such circumstances, not "poor James, I 
 am sorry for you," but "rich James, happy James, I rejoice for 
 you, and rejoice with you." What a portion is yours! The King 
 of angels and saints stands by you, to guard, to keep, to bless, and 
 to perfect you. Oh, my happy, happy brother, to have found this 
 perfect Jesus, or to have been found by Him ! How precious He 
 is now to you ! How inconceivably sufficient for your waiting 
 soul ! Now sing songs of praise in the house of your pilgrimage ; 
 rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great indeed is your portion 
 and your prospect. Forget yourself in person, and think of your- 
 self in partnership. Renounce all that could in any sense be called 
 your own, that you may seek only the things which are Jesus 
 Christ's. Look as simply -as possible to His works as past, as 
 present, and as to come. Will He lose a soul He has loved ? Has 
 He died in vain ? He holds you in the hollow of His hand as a 
 
 jewel of His electing love Be of good cheer, then; the 
 
 Lord is with you. You will soon wear the crown which His 
 righteousness has merited, and which His hand will bestow. And 
 soon some of us will come after you. What glory will open upon 
 you! How affecting is the thought! A thin veil, just ready to 
 drop from its own weakness and decay, is all that hides from you 
 the glory of that countenance that fills the heavens with bliss. How 
 you will wonder! How you will adore! "Is this my Saviour? 
 my Jesus? my own Lord forever? Oh, blessedness unutterable ! 
 What a portion, what a change for my weary, empty, helpless soul !" 
 
 Well, my dear brother, all this is yours. Be of good cheer, 
 then, writes your affectionate friend and pastor, 
 
 STEPHEN H. TYNG.
 
 POINT PLEASANT. 37 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you." 
 
 1840-1846 Point Pleasant Letters to her sister Martha My birthday, 1843 
 Clear views of the doctrine of justification by faith Visit to Harrisburgh, 
 Lewisburg, and Blue Hill A literary hermit Letter to E. G. H. Brookfield 
 Rev. D. A. Tyng Death of her parents Letters to H. W. B. and Mrs. R. 
 Harrison, "mother" Marriage of her sister Martha a great loss Letters to 
 her sister M. and Rev. Dr. Damon. 
 
 FROM HER SISTER MARTHA. 
 
 POINT PLEASANT, May 20, 1840. 
 MY DEAR SISTER JEANETTE : 
 
 . We have missed you much ; it seems as if all the 
 light and life of the house were gone. I do not think there has 
 been a loud laugh heard since you left. Laughter and merriment 
 went with you, and I am about forming the opinion that, as a 
 family, with the exception of yourself, we are remarkably grave. 
 I, at least, am so, who sometimes fear that I am getting wild. But 
 you are the spirit that rules, and, when left alone, there is no 
 danger of levity with me. You are the sunshine, and I the 
 shadow. . . . . 
 
 Point Pleasant looks beautiful this morning so beautiful that it 
 gives me painful feelings. What a coloring the heart can throw 
 over the brightest scenes ! Truly, our own minds make this world. 
 In looking around on all that is so fair, the eye of faith dwells with 
 comfort at least it ought to be with happiness on that bright, 
 fair home above, into which sin and death cannot enter. 
 
 " No sorrow dims the air 
 Breathed by our loved one there." 
 
 But forgive me for this sad strain a shadowing out of some of 
 the many feelings that have oppressed me. 
 
 [This sadness must have been inspired by the recent death of their brother 
 James.]
 
 38 KITCHEN EXPERIENCE. 
 
 TO MARTHA HULME. 
 
 POINT PLEASANT, January 2, 1841. 
 
 Well, dear Primrose, you may be glad enough you were making 
 a visitation to your married sister, instead of a "child at home," 
 for like as not you would have been waked up by this time. Dear 
 me! we have had all sorts of a time to-day. " My sister she took 
 sick, and I was very poorly;" and "auld Robin came a-courting 
 of me." Yes, this is all true, just as you see, only you must make 
 auld Robin come before the people all took sick. Well, just to 
 tell you about it. mother got off to the party in the " harracane" 
 No. i, New Year's day, 1841 (I want to write the 41 very often, for 
 somehow I don't make very good looking 4i's), and left me sole 
 occupant of the spacious kitchen of Point Pleasant for the day. 
 Commencing at 10^ o'clock I made thirty-one pies! Mince pies? 
 Yes, thirty-one mince pies! Was not that enough of itself to make 
 me begin to be " poorly." To be sure, for the sake of exactness, 
 I must say sixteen were little patty-pan pies the size of my thumb. 
 And then I said I was sole occupant of the kitchen. Mary Ann 
 and Phoebe were both there. I had a fine time after all, as I told 
 mother last evening. By begging and bribing I had dry wood cut 
 by Bill to fit the oven, and dry wood cut to fit the stove, and plenty 
 of it, too ! I told mother she could not conceive of the quiet satis- 
 faction, the delightful, aye, joyful feelings I experienced to see the 
 fires "go" as they did ! And then the pork that I never got boiled 
 enough ; ah ! it boiled that day. The stove was hot, so that both 
 oven doors might be left open; and the boiler, with a snug little 
 piece of pork in the bottom, covered with water, with plenty of 
 room to do as it pleased, was cheerfully fixed in its place. Yes, 
 cheerfully, for crack ! crack ! went the dry wood in the stove, bubble, 
 bubble, the boiler of pork, whiz! whiz ! the little sticks of the pie 
 oven. Moreover, your humble servant was warm ! 
 
 And then the thirty-one pies began to make. Miss Jeanette 
 made, rolled, and put the crust in the dish, and then it was handed 
 over to Miss Phcebe (who presided over the ornamental depart- 
 ment), who filled, clipped, picked, and pricked, and landed it 
 safely in the oven. Of course we had no dinner, not having time. 
 John had gone to attend to a goose with Frank, and Miss E., why,
 
 LAST LOOK OF THE PAST. 39 
 
 in the midst of all the "harracanes" she took and went to church! 
 We stopped the rolling and picking about 12 o'clock, and sent 
 for Miss Anne to come and take a "snatch" standing. The blow- 
 ing of the wind, the whirling of the snow, rocking of the trees, etc., 
 being just as they were, all expectation of seeing Miss E. was cut 
 off; when lo ! she was descried on a blow, making to (as the sailors 
 say) the green gate. She had arrived in time to get a piece of 
 "snatch," and declared "the day was fine for walking," "couldn't 
 tell how it made her feel" to hear the hail and snow jostle together, 
 and ring and tingle as it fell on her umbrella. 
 
 We were tired enough by night. In the midst of all, the 
 "country cousins" arrived! By 5 o'clock felt done over, what 
 with one thing and another/ Now, you will hardly believe that 
 new year's day is recorded as one of the most sober of my life. 
 There has been something in the last look of the past, and the first 
 word of the present season, that has found its way even to my feel- 
 ings, long to be remembered. How wisely have our daily crumbs 
 been meted to us! As our old friend passes away forever, his last 
 word is heard: "Behold, I come quickly;" and as we close our 
 eyes with a sense of what we are within, and what may be without, 
 the gentle whisper of him who supplies the place of our departed 
 friend is in our ear: "As thy day so shall thy strength be;" "My 
 grace is sufficient for thee, my strength is made perfect in weak- 
 ness." May these blessed promises speak to two of "the least," 
 even as they should, as they were freely given ! 
 
 Where am I, dear Matt ? My letter is April-like, begun in smiles 
 and likely to end in tears. The name of the author explains all. 
 . . . . 'Tis now ii P. M. ; the day is past, and we had a com- 
 fortable time of it, after all Good night, dear Prim- 
 rose ; have not time to say one word about your letter. 
 
 JEANETTE. 
 
 In concluding a letter to her sister Martha, she writes on Jan. 
 18, 1841. 
 
 DEAR MATT : 
 
 . . . . There are two or three little things I want you to 
 remember, as kind of directions: "Earth has no sorrow that 
 Heaven cannot cure;" "Let patience have her perfect work;"
 
 40 OLD OLNEY HYMN-BOOK. 
 
 "The trial of our faith being much more precious." Aunt Price 
 sent me her old Olney hymn-book ; let me send you a verse or two. 
 
 Through all the various shifting scenes 
 
 Of life's mistaken ill or good, 
 Thy hand, O God, conducts unseen 
 
 The beautiful vicissitude. 
 
 Thy ways, O Lord, with wise design 
 
 Are formed upon thy throne above; 
 And every dark unblending line 
 
 Meets in the centre of thy love. 
 
 It does seem to me you are afraid to enjoy all the privileges of 
 the glorious Gospel. . . Has He not said, " I will never 
 
 leave thee?" You will be able to bear and surfer all that His love 
 for you deems necessary. With every temptation there will you 
 know there will be a way of escape. 
 
 SISTER JEANETTE. 
 
 Mrs. Platt's character, was many sided, each of which in its full 
 development seemed to stand out clear and distinctive and none 
 more so than was the " joyousness" of this nature, as if way down 
 in her heart was some hidden "spring of joy" that, bursting out 
 in childhood's happy years, had been coursing its way all through 
 this checkered life, with waters so bright and sparkling in their flow 
 as to make glad and beautiful all around to her it had become a 
 11 joy to think the best she could of human kind." This playful 
 joyousness is well expressed in two letters written from Point 
 Pleasant to her sister Martha. 
 
 TO MARTHA HULME. 
 
 POINT PLEASANT, May 27, 1841. 
 DEAR PRIM: 
 
 Though quite late to begin to write this evening, with the ex- 
 pectation of being sleepy very soon, I am, nevertheless, once again 
 in my old seat, at the old stand, writing my first letter of the sum- 
 mer of 1841. Right glad am I that it is honored with the dedica- 
 tion of sister M. May it be ominous of good. Surely, dear Prim, 
 you will think I need all the good omens touching this matter. 
 Remember last summer. But never fear; I rather think, unless
 
 HOUSE-CLEANING. 41 
 
 you object, the dedication of this will answer for all the year's 
 epistles. But the future is unread. 
 
 Well, the little basket was handed me by Henry, last evening, 
 saying, "Mrs. Welch desired him to bring it out." I had for- 
 gotten all about the ruffles, and was sure Prim had come, and made 
 quite a fuss, with the basket in my hand, running about to inform 
 father and all interested. Well, pass over the disappointment. It 
 has seemed, to me at least, a most wondrous long time since you 
 all went away. We seem to have had quite a summer. I can 
 only say 'tis now mowing-time, the clover being cut daily on the 
 lawn ; can't say we have thought as much about you as you might 
 suppose, for we have not had time. The day you left (only last 
 Friday), I really had the headache, and thought I felt quite as 
 badly as other people do when they have been doing almost every- 
 thing in one day, and slept but little during the night. Mary was 
 sick, and went to bed. 
 
 I "poked" about awhile, and then thought I would try and 
 see if a little could not be done towards house-cleaning, and took 
 in hand the washing of the Richard-room windows. About 9 
 o'clock Mary joined me, declaring she was well ; and in process 
 of time A. and E. entered upon duty, and things began to go on 
 swimmingly. It was quite funny to see what order was preserved, 
 almost an unbroken silence reigned, disturbed only by the pouring 
 of water, wringing of cloths, rubbing of brushes, etc. This was 
 the more worthy of notice, as the contribution on the part of each 
 individual was a free-will offering to house-cleaning, no one saying 
 to the other, "such and such things will we do," or "shall be 
 done." We worked right merrily till night-fall; with returning 
 health, I suppose, came returning spirits. From Mrs. Richards' 
 room we passed to the entry ; from thence, eastward, down the 
 four steps, by way of the closets (not at all to be forgotten), through 
 the wide entry passing my room ; then, turning to the north, en- 
 tered mother's apartment, and after a thorough amendment and 
 improvement, commenced Anne's, taking up the white-washing 
 branch, Jeanette officiating ; the long entry then followed, and the 
 whole matter came to an end with the southeastern extremity of 
 John's room, at a little before 7 o'clock P. M. What think you? 
 
 I have been thus minute, dear Prim, as the history of one day 
 will tell for all the others since you left. We have been very
 
 42 POWER OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 busy. On Monday I hired a washerwoman, and took Mary to 
 assist with the parlors, and finished all that part of the house, in- 
 cluding the porticos, with the Robber room, that day, the washer- 
 woman helping towards the end. Tuesday morning ironed and 
 tied up flowers and vines. At the dinner-table father announced 
 that he was going to Mt. Holly, and would take any of us. Jeanette 
 went, taking Mary Ann. Stayed to tea a "most nice" visit, quite 
 dusty enough going, but a dear little shower before return. Home 
 10 o'clock a little sleepy last mile or two. 
 
 I can't tell any more now, Dear Prim. . . . My epistle is like 
 the "Brief Reply" as to length, but unlike that production its merit 
 must consist in its truth, You will surely consider it an unexpected 
 and unmerited favor that is, if you can read it. ... My 
 letter might have been a very serious one, and altogether different 
 in its character; but it is the passing hour with JEANETTE. 
 
 TO MARTHA HULME. 
 
 POINT PLEASANT, Monday Eve, March 7, 1842. 
 DEAREST PRIM : 
 
 . . . Tell sister she will not believe how often- one has said 
 to another, "brother and sister are coming up to stay, on the ist of 
 April." Are there any rosebushes (roots, large) in market yet? 
 With every returning spring, every changing circumstance, my en- 
 joyment in these things remains the same, or is, perhaps, greater. 
 If Anne would like to get one for the Point, let it be a climber. 
 The power of association ! what seems to stay its current, or rather 
 causes it to flow with such unmingled sweetness? We cannot tell 
 in word, dearest sister. It is a joy with which even a kindred heart 
 "intermeddleth not;" the constant, abiding, feeling assurance 
 that 
 
 " There everlasting spring abides, 
 And never-withering flowers, 
 
 Where saints immortal reign." 
 
 Is it, beloved sister, that we have not yet learned the deceitful- 
 ness of our hearts, and know not "what manner of spirit we are
 
 CONSECRATION. 43 
 
 of," that makes one feel that you and I do not need to "climb 
 where Moses stood, and view the landscape o'er," to make us feel 
 that there are joys " eye hath not seen, nor ear heard ;" and, look- 
 ing upon Him as the "author and finisher," who declares, "Be- 
 hold, I come quickly," causes us to long, at least, to respond, 
 "Even so, come, Lord Jesus!" 
 
 These feelings cannot be repressed. If I know my own heart, 
 here they are, oh, are they not unto "the praise and glory of His 
 grace?" Is not this a golden period? Is not He passing by? 
 The Lord, the Lord merciful and gracious. Will not the bright- 
 ness of the season gild many a future hour of darkness and de- 
 spondency? Shall not the remembrance be as "songs in the 
 night?" "streams in the desert?" Yes, dearest sister, we will re- 
 member this, through all the way in which the Lord our God shall 
 lead us ; when He shall prove us and try us as silver is tried, that 
 we may receive the crown of life, and be " presented faultless be- 
 fore the presence of His glory with exceeding joy." I feel that I 
 have much yet to learn of the one great lesson, the nothingness of 
 self, the all-sufficiency of Him. Yes, much, much, before I shall 
 see Him as He is, and be "satisfied with His likeness." May the 
 comfort in the views of truth which we have received ever be 
 ours ! 
 
 Your own sister 
 
 JEANETTE. 
 
 In the following we see how truly she felt the need and the 
 worth of consecrating to God that exuberant flow of spirits which 
 enlivened all her conduct, rendering her the delight of her friends 
 by both pen and presence. 
 
 TO MARTHA HULME. 
 
 Tuesday morn, just before father leaves. . 
 
 "Just before father leaves !" Of course you say Jeanette always 
 writes in a hurry, and that is the reason why her letters look and 
 are what they are. How could I help doing so, when father has 
 just told us at the breakfast table that he goes? Now, dear Matt, 
 I am not only ashamed, but grieved, on account of the folly and 
 volatility these said letters manifest. Shall I never be serious?
 
 44 MERCIFULLY ORDERED. 
 
 Why cannot I write at least in the same spirit as Martha? Not like, 
 but as she writes? I was "very high" all last week, though with- 
 out any apparent cause had nothing to worry me, and felt con- 
 tented and happy; and such was the way this happiness was mani- 
 fested, both in conversation and writing ! If my happiness springs 
 from a pure source, would not it be shown by "a meek and quiet 
 spirit?" This is my "besetting sin." I ask not to be other than 
 I am as to natural disposition and faculties given by Him who be- 
 stoweth gifts according to His own will, but I ask that all may be 
 directed, regulated, and controlled by deep, abiding religious 
 principle. Where, well may you ask, is the progress towards this 
 end? If our trust was not in "the tender mercies," where would 
 be our hope? 
 
 TO HER SISTER MARTHA. 
 DEAR MATT : 
 
 . . . Do stay (though we miss you sadly) as long as you 
 can enjoy yourself. I fully accord with you in your estimate of 
 true wisdom in our use of the present. It certainly is your part. 
 Your having at last learned this truth I hope proves that its sister 
 truth is also embraced. Let the morrow care for the things of 
 itself; "sufficient to the day is the evil thereof;" "take no thought 
 for the morrow." If you were a friend instead of sister, I might 
 say your last letter, from some cause, awoke a cord of sympathy 
 between us before untouched. To one who has been led to find 
 her peculiar joy in the Christian walk from the view of her cove- 
 nant God in his "parental character," and ruler of "particular 
 providences," your words could not fail to be understood. You 
 know there are many, and have been many, sorrows and joys of 
 your heart with which I cannot intermeddle. We may sympathize 
 yet not share. It seems to me that this is the first emotion of the 
 heart that has beat so close to mine from childhood, in which I 
 shared. 
 
 You see, dear Prim, what magic power your one little sentence 
 about the Divine condescension has wrought. "Mercifully or- 
 dered" never forget this, and the stream of quiet happiness shall 
 flow with you to life's end. Each little event, joy or sorrow, as 
 well as the whole train, ordered, disposed, and suited to each "son 
 and daughter" as they are brought home to glory! Oh, the riches 
 of the wisdom and mercy of our covenant God !
 
 JACOB'S vow. 45 
 
 MY BIRTHDAY. 
 
 " Daily Food," Job v. 19. 
 
 February 25, 1843. 
 
 "And behold I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places 
 whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land ; for I 
 will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to 
 thee of. 
 
 . . . . "And Jacob vowed a vow, saying, If God will be 
 with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me 
 bread to eat, and raiment to put on, 
 
 " So that I come again to my father's home in peace; then shall 
 the Lord be my God: .... and of all that thou shalt give 
 me, I will surely give the tenth unto thee." Gen. xxviii. 15, 
 20-22. 
 
 My daily reading, my birthday portion ! I know not that I have 
 anything to record this day. Quietness seems to rest upon my 
 heart. The return of this season comes not as it was wont to do, 
 reviving hopes and fears, youth's doubts and anxieties for the un- 
 tried future, which made me feel the preciousness of that Arm on 
 which I might rest as a refuge, that Wisdom infinite in which I 
 might trust, "casting all my care upon Him who careth for me;" 
 and rejoicing in that I could (by grace) say, " My times are in thy 
 hand." But is it not my birthday still? And as my years pass 
 away, is it not more and more a Bethel, on which I see inscribed 
 what "the Lord has done for me?" 
 
 So far as this life is concerned, I seem to have not one desire. 
 My birthday with all my other days is before Thee. Oh, that 
 "the life which I now live in the flesh I might live by the faith of 
 the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me." May 
 Jacob's God be my God I May my portion in this life be as years 
 "few and evil," so that at last I may but come to be a partaker of 
 His inheritance, with "Abraham and Isaac, in the kingdom of our 
 Father." 
 
 I come to Thee, O my Father, through that open door of access 
 which Jacob's vision showed forth Jesus Christ. In Him I may 
 hear Thy voice and live ; yea, find Thee my Covenant God. In 
 Him I come before Thee, "justified from all things;" in Him as
 
 46 BIRTH-DAY ANNIVERSARY. 
 
 my surety I enter into covenant with Thee. Oh, let Thy words, 
 spoken to Jacob, be also to me ! " And, behold, I am with thee, 
 and .will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring 
 thee again into this land ; for I will not leave thee until I have 
 done that which I have spoken to thee of." I would receive it as 
 Thy promise to me in Jesus. It is enough. Every desire of spirit 
 and body is satisfied in this. My soul, my body, I commit anew 
 to Thy hands; and, with Jacob, vow my vow. "If God will be 
 with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me 
 bread to eat, and raiment to put on, so that I come to my Father's 
 house [heavenly Father, John xiv. 2] in peace: then shall the Lord 
 be my God ;" and this, my birthday, shall be as a Bethel, a "stone, 
 which I have set for a pillar;" "and of all that Thou shalt give 
 me, I will surely give the tenth unto Thee." 
 
 This promise is made only in the strength of my Lord God, 
 making mention of His righteousness, His only. In Him every 
 care shall be satisfied, every want supplied, and I shall be with 
 "full salvation blest;" "kept by the power of God through faith 
 unto salvation," i Peter i. 5. 
 
 My Father in heaven, I ask no more on this my birthday, but 
 that Thou wilt, indeed, "be with me, and keep me in all places 
 whither I go," until my feet enter into the New Jerusalem. "Be- 
 cause Thou hast been my helper, therefore, under the shadow of 
 thy wings will I rejoice;" "goodness and mercy have followed 
 me all the days of my life;" "in the multitude of the sorrows I 
 have had in my heart, thy comforts have refreshed my soul." I 
 have never tasted of the cup of sorrow but it has been to my lips as 
 drops from the "fountain of life," the oil of joy for mourning, the 
 garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. 
 
 Oh, what can I say! What can I render for creation, preserva- 
 tion, and all the blessings of this life; but, above all, for Thy in- 
 estimable love in redemption, by Jesus Christ! 
 
 " Angels, and living saints, and dead 
 
 But one communion make : 
 All join in Christ, their living Head, 
 
 And of His love partake. 
 All glory be to Thee, Q Lord most high !" 
 
 Ever may I be Thine, O my Saviour, and one with him who sleeps 
 in Jesus! 
 
 JEANETTE HULME.
 
 JUSTIFICATION. 47 
 
 FROM A LETTER TO HER SISTER. 
 
 This review of her Christian experience shows how clearly the 
 doctrine of justification by faith was revealed to her. 
 
 July 9, 1843. 
 DEAR SISTER: 
 
 The sacred bond that makes us all one in Christ Jesus, is, I be- 
 lieve, pure, deep, and abiding. It rests upon a, foundation above 
 all change. None can boast of higher, purer love. It is sufficient 
 for our hearts to know, " Now we are the sons of God, and it doth 
 not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when He shall 
 appear, we shall be like Him." Compared with this, every other 
 thought and feeling is as nothing. 
 
 It is now eight years since, by the waters of baptism, I was united 
 to the visible Church of Christ, and my name registered in St. 
 
 Mary's Church, Burlington I look back to it as a 
 
 day of days partaker in a transaction which men and angels wit- 
 nessed. Henceforth a member of Christ's Church militant, I was, 
 I trust, taken and sheltered and fed, and my feet guided thus far. 
 Exceedingly ignorant of many things, and but imperfectly ac- 
 quainted with any of the foundation doctrines of the Christian's 
 joy and hope, I only knew that I desired to do that which was 
 right. 
 
 Four years passed with alternate seasons of light and darkness, 
 hope and fear, when the Holy Spirit bade me answer: " What is 
 the foundation of your hope? Are you in Christ Jesus?" Three 
 months (in 1839) that I cannot even now dwell upon known only 
 to Him who, " when our spirit is overwhelmed within us, knoweth 
 our path" found me at their close rejoicing in the triumphant 
 answer: "He that believeth is justified from all things!" and, 
 "Whom he justifies, them will he also glorify." " There is, there- 
 fore, now no condemnation to them which are in Jesus Christ," 
 "heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ," they can "never 
 perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of His hand." 
 
 The doctrine of justification by faith was then, through no human 
 instrumentality, perceived and received in all its richness of com- 
 fort and joy. It is the foundation of the believer's rest in his
 
 48 DR. BETHUNE PREACHES. 
 
 Saviour, the entrance into the glorious liberty of the children of 
 God. This was the Gospel which I then received, in which I have 
 rejoiced without one faltering moment ever since. No darkness, 
 no sorrow, no sinfulness and wretchedness of self can turn the 
 believer's eye from the joy that flows from Him who " abideth 
 faithful."* .... 
 
 That the Lord God of Israel may ever keep us all, is the 
 prayer of 
 
 JEANETTE. 
 
 She goes to Harrisburgh and Lewisburg, Pa., to visit relatives, 
 and from there writes the following letters to her sister Martha: 
 
 HARRISBURGH, PA., May 30, 1844. 
 DEAREST SISTER : 
 
 I well know you will be grateful to hear from us, even if it is 
 only a few lines. Such a gloomy beginning has ended in a bright 
 and pleasant day (how like life!). Mary has not even complained 
 of fatigue, though the latter part of the way was rough. But such 
 a ride! such views bursting upon us of the unsurpassed valley of 
 the Susquehanna! such hills and mountain tops; such bright 
 green fields and dotted corn crops; such mingled rocks and 
 peaceful streams; and and more than the heart can feel or 
 
 words can tell. I enjoyed it all intensely We had 
 
 our dinner soon after we arrived, and then I read a little, and had 
 the snuggest nap, cut out my cape, and prepared to sew perfectly 
 at home. The house is full, a "Sunday Convention" being held. 
 
 Mr. Chester, from B , here, etc. etc. Dr. Bethune preached 
 
 this evening. I made Mr. G take me. Oh, what a sermon ! 
 
 What can we call these showers by the wayside, these unexpected 
 blessings? "Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving 
 the Lord." The cares and duties of life not hindrances but helps, 
 a preparation (to the child of God) for rest in the heavenly seats 
 above. I have not time to speak of it. I rejoice in all those 
 things, in every view and aspect of which he spoke last night. 
 Why do we ever distrust our Father's wisdom? 
 
 . . . . To say that I have wished for you through all the 
 pleasant day, cannot tell how I longed to see through your eyes, 
 or rather by them. But if this communion of spirit among the
 
 RIDE ON CANAL PACKET. 49 
 
 beauties of this perishable world is better not for us, shall we not 
 together wonder and adore in that "better country," at His right 
 hand, where there is "fulness of joy and pleasures for evermore?" 
 What a proof of immortality is the yearning, undying sense of the 
 beautiful and glorious! I have most wondered, and most enjoyed, 
 that I could yet feel all this even more than ever. 
 
 But this will not do; you would rather I would say good-night. 
 
 TO MARTHA HULME. 
 
 LEWISBURG, PA., Monday morning, June 3, 1844. 
 DEAREST SISTER: 
 
 . . . . The canal boat! Did any of you ever go in a canal 
 boat? A home and not a home, a house and not a house. Eating, 
 sleeping, drinking, everything, all in an inch of room, seemingly. 
 Tiny windows with tasselled red curtains, etc., "play-pretense" 
 like. I declare I did not feel myself at home enough to take my 
 bonnet off, though a girl did sit sewing in the corner, as if she had 
 lived there a year. I was too much amused to laugh. Such a 
 baby-house affair I never saw. And yet it was a regular, well-built, 
 handsomely furnished packet. But the scenery! On the deck I 
 went, and on the deck I would stay, save time to enjoy the best supper 
 since I left home. It was almost sunset when we started. It was not 
 a canal, it was a beautiful stream of deep water, along which we 
 glided so softly and quietly that the song of every bird and the 
 rustling of every leaf were distinctly heard. I sat in the bow of the 
 boat, and, of course, forgot that there were freight, passengers, ar 
 anything else behind me. To talk was impossible. You know 
 how even common objects appear in the soft light of sunset. The 
 farm yards, with the chickens getting ready to sleep; cows return- 
 ing from the green fields, across the pretty bridges that here and 
 there were above our heads; barns, houses, rose bushes and trees, 
 woods and openings; villages and towns in the distance; and above 
 all, and behind all, the glorious mountain heights ! And then, 
 the noble river, with its little green islands and jutting rocks, was 
 all the time just at our side; the wash of every wave that turned 
 aside from rocky peaks was easily heard. Would that I could tell 
 you, that you could feel with me all that I felt ! Think I could 
 not, but every now and then I said, "If Matt were only here!" 
 4
 
 50 CLOSE QUARTERS. 
 
 Soon the farm-yards all disappeared, and the wild mountain 
 scenery took their place. But this will not do. Do not talk to me 
 of the North River, Boston, or any other place. Here were not, 
 here and there, the grand and beautiful, but all, all was beauty and 
 loveliness in its highest sense, though ever-changing and various. 
 So slowly, too, we passed along, every object fully enjoyed. Three 
 sunsets and two sunrises we had that evening behind the hills. At 
 last the sun was gone, and the moon with her one bright star, as 
 they never were before, came up from behind the opposite hills. 
 At one time we were in midnight darkness, at the base of frowning 
 rocks, while the outline of some noble hill was pictured for us in 
 
 the sparkling river by our side. I cannot tell you At 
 
 last we were advised to go to bed, and after such a hint I concluded 
 to retire. To bed did I say? to shelving I call it. Such a time ! 
 Two ladies, sisters, under the care of Rev. Mr.ratton, of North- 
 umberland, shared our end of the room. The gentlemen had an- 
 nounced to us that the captain had promoted them to more than 
 half the ladies' drawing room (all was an inch, as 1 told you). 
 Sure enough, inside the door were four shelves, and beyond a so- 
 called curtain, flimsy-flamsy blue worsted, stuck up with forks! 
 separating the end of our shelves from the gentlemen's heads, 
 making a turning-round place called a room. Two of the shelves 
 were just beyond suffocating distance from the ceiling; the other 
 two on the cushioned seats below. Of course ladies and gentlemen 
 were taking off boots and shoes at the same time. I helped the 
 big strange lady to her upper shelf, fixed Mary below mine, and 
 then stood upon a stool to aim at mine. But it would not do at 
 all ; and we all burst out in an unsuppressed fit of laughter, in 
 which, of course, the gentlemen tried not to join. A large woman 
 fromthe chambermaid's room was summoned, who lifted me up. 
 But I had left the shutter open to have a little moonlight in our 
 end, and the ladies said I must not sleep with my head that way, 
 or I should be made sick; and so I prepared to turn round. The 
 strangers opposite insisted it could not be done; but at last it was 
 accomplished, and my head was turned just not to touch the gen- 
 tleman (because of the curtain), when down went one corner of 
 the shelf over poor Mary! crash went the little window! and 
 through the blue curtain I seemed determined to go. Then came 
 peals of laughter from the piles of gentlemen beyond (the room was
 
 BLUE HILL, NORTHUMBERLAND. . 51 
 
 crowded, three rows on either side). But no harm was done. 
 Mary called the maid again, who, half asleep, came loudly scold- 
 ing that if the lady " had only been aisy and not kept frisking so," 
 it would not have happened. But when she found I had to be lifted 
 from the corner in which I had taken refuge, she laughed outright, 
 and set me down in a great hurry. I slept on the floor, and will 
 tell the rest another time. 
 
 TO MARTHA HULME. 
 
 LEWISBURG [PA.], June 27, 1844. 
 DEAREST SISTER : 
 
 . . . The shower seems going up the river, and I find a 
 few moments before dark. If you only could see our beautiful showers 
 hanging along the hill-tops, or spreading in the distance like a veil 
 of mist along the noble river, marking its outlines for miles ! I 
 still enjoy the country so very, very much. On Tuesday morning 
 James and Mary, Mr. Graham, and Jeanette left for a day's ride in 
 the country, particularly to visit the Blue Hill, at Northumberland. 
 I would simply remark that on all such occasions I lose my per- 
 sonal identity. Can you see your primpy (true) old maidy sister 
 seated in an elevated four-wheeled buggy, without a top, one seat,, 
 drawn by two spirited grays, and the driver and companion, the 
 rosy-faced, curly-headed, admired, and respected George Wash- 
 ington Graham! is that your sister Jeanette? I say, no. 
 
 If I could but give you a miniature picture of the extended and 
 truly beautiful view that the Hill presents from its top, where a 
 summer-house has been erected at the expense of an old man,*who' 
 lives, Jimmy Wells-like, hard by! But I cannot. Mr. G. told 
 me the old man was a "woman-hater." But would you believe 
 it ? after admitting us to a dirty, musty, old garret, and unlocking 
 his great boxes of books, containing a most valuable library of 
 histories, etc. etc., as we were turning away he said, " The book 
 you have in your hand I wish you to keep," addressing me. I was 
 
 * This old man and "Blue Hill" added to the celebrity of Northumberland, 
 where the distii.guished Dr. Priestley lived and is buried. 
 
 Blue Hill stands out in bold grandeur where the northern and western branches 
 of the Susquehanna two noble rivers unite and flow into the Chesapeake Bay.
 
 52 . A LITERARY HERMIT. 
 
 amazed ; but, of course, exceedingly gratified. It is a volume of 
 bound " Magazines of European Literature ; or a collection of 
 select and interesting pieces, either original or versions from the 
 Italian, German, and Spanish, Paris, 1802." I asked him to insert 
 my name and date. He took up from a dirty old kind of a desk 
 a pen, and, inquiring the name, wrote under his own beautifully 
 written name "J. Mason, 1804" the following, "Jane Eppy /" 
 What Mr. Graham and I did with our faces, who were looking over 
 his shoulder, .1 cannot tell. My name was then written on a piece 
 of paper and placed before him, and he neatly wrote, " Jeanette 
 Hulme, June 25, '44." But what think you? is there not a secret 
 sympathy between two old folks when thrown together? It seemed 
 
 so to me 
 
 Saturday morning. Beloved sister, the package has just come. 
 Have waited all this time to hear from you so long ! But what 
 shall I say? How deeply I am distressed ! Oh, I can never leave 
 you and home again while I have a father's house on earth ! I 
 cannot do without you, and this must be our last separation. I have 
 suffered so much from excitement since here. Do not distress 
 yourself as to the cause, which is altogether inward. It is not, as 
 in your case, my heart or faith that fails, but the whole nervous 
 system. I become so mentally wretched while morally peaceful 
 and happy. You know you have seen me in times past. If I am 
 a heart to you in your moments of weakness, you are a hero to me, 
 my strength, my wisdom, my unerring guide. Oh, how I have 
 missed you and longed for you ! And yet, the necessities <$f this 
 heart, its weakness and longings, no human eye, not even the 
 nearest my heart, can ever read. Bitter moments have passed in this 
 place and all along my journey here. Brightness and darkness, 
 how, as ever, contrasted ! The sunny side has always been turned 
 to you in my letters, the other waits till I see you. 
 
 TO HER COUSIN, E. G. H., in Philadelphia. 
 
 POINT PLEASANT [N. J.], Dec. 26, 1844. 
 MY DEAR NEDDY: 
 
 It is too late to wish you a "happy Christmas," but not too late 
 
 to say that you have been much in my mind of late 
 
 Do you go to any Bible class? Where? Who is the teacher?
 
 BROOKFIELD. 53 
 
 Will you not try and hear Dr. Tyng as often as you can'? Are 
 there any evenings in the week at your disposal? Could you ever 
 get to his Wednesday evening lectures or Friday night prayer- 
 meetings ? Do you find any time to read ? Is there any library 
 to which you can have access? Tell me all about yourself, what 
 doing, thinking, feeling 
 
 Only live near to Him and you can never fall. It may be that 
 you will soon learn more and more of the weakness and vileness of 
 your heart. Oh, let not this keep you away from Jesus ("Saviour!") 
 It should only drive you the closer to His cross. And when 
 tempted by the enemy to despond, and feel " I cannot be His 
 child how can I go to Him feeling thus?" Oh, turn from the 
 tempter and answer every doubt, yes, every sense of sin and guilt 
 with this one blessed truth : "Jesus hath died !" Ten thousand 
 are now around the throne who have only obtained the victory in 
 this way. They have all come out of "much tribulation," have 
 "washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the 
 Lamb." 
 
 With much affection I am, dear Neddy, as ever, sister 
 
 JEANETTE. . 
 
 Brookfield was the name given to a large estate, beautifully situ- 
 ated in Montgomery County, Pa., twelve miles from Philadelphia, 
 purchased by Mr. Hulme, and where the family removed in April, 
 1845 with bright anticipations of a happy life and an increase of 
 fortune, but where they met the deepest sorrow of their lives in the 
 death of both father and mother. The mother died April, 1845 > 
 the father the July following. It was here that these letters were 
 written to Mrs. H. W. B., of Trenton. The correspondence was 
 voluminous, but only a few extracts are given. 
 
 It was at this beautiful home that that earnest, talented, and much 
 lamented young clergyman, Rev. Dudley A. Tyng, met his death 
 in after years by a painful accident. He was a frequent visitor of 
 the Hulme family and a dear friend of Mrs. Platt. After he came 
 to Ohio she was much interested in his work, and their occasional 
 meetings here were mutually pleasant.
 
 54 LETTERS TO H. W. B. 
 
 TO H. W. B. 
 
 BROOKFIELD, Aug. 27, 1845. 
 
 . . . . "Your visit was so pleasant. We often say our Trenton 
 friends were with us in the one only bright week of this summer. 
 A week between the dark and sorrowful past and coming future. 
 Sometimes I think I don't want you to come again would have 
 your recollections of your school-friend's home only pleasant. 
 You can come and see us now, but not our home. Can we ever 
 have a home again? This question constantly presses itself upon 
 my heart, dear H. you too have lost your father, and with him 
 your childhood's home. Tell me how you live and what you live 
 for now." .... " I am sorry I have spoken as I have in this 
 letter. The darkness of these days I know will pass away ; neither 
 would I call my parents back. Long years of tenderness, though 
 marked with times of heartfelt sorrow, bound our parents together, 
 and in death they have not been divided. Side by side they 
 sleep with their most precious, gifted child, our absent brother 
 James." .... 
 
 " Every one knows I naturally possess no decision and stability 
 of character; and I, this day, fear I am as much the creature of 
 impulse and circumstances as was the school-girl of fourteeen years 
 ago. 1 live by reliance upon others. After brother James, sister 
 Martha made me all I am; rather, all that is seen right about me is 
 
 the effect of their influence or reflection of their qualities 
 
 She is, indeed, all you say, all that woman can be 
 
 And dear H. you will understand something of my feelings when 
 I tell you I am going to lose her by giving herto another." .... 
 
 Again referring to the change wrought by her father's death, she 
 says: "Oh, Hannah, great has been the change, powerful the 
 cause that has made me feel I could not live here now ; all is as beau- 
 tiful, but where is the answer in our own hearts! No, we cannot 
 stay here without our father!" .... 
 
 "I am so much pleased that you like 'Anne Sherwood.' It is 
 my pet of all Martha has written. The temperament, character 
 of the little girl is, indeed, her own. Many of the incidents at school 
 actually occurred Clara Norris's friendship ; she could tell you a 
 long story; and then the brother is our own James his love of
 
 SAD THOUGHTS. 55 
 
 flowers, the hours spent with his young sister in their little garden, all 
 just as they were, true. Anna is not Martha (she says) but another 
 sister (herself). Is it any wonder that she loved flowers? her old 
 'roots,' some of which she even carried here, seem part of her- 
 self; or rather their tender stems and delicate growth speak of one 
 who watched and trained them, while his step grew more feeble 
 and his eye too dim to see beauty in any outward thing besides. 
 In February, when the snow had covered our little garden, just 
 two weeks before we moved to our beautiful home at Point Pleasant 
 (when we almost hoped he would be with us) he fell asleep in per- 
 fect peace." .... 
 
 October, 1845. 
 
 "Your letters are so pleasant and warmly welcomed ; indeed, 
 it seems all a dream that I have met 'Hannah Wilson' again; and 
 then, too, just at this point, this most dark and desolate period of 
 my life. There is a meaning in this to those whose all of earthly 
 happiness is gathered from the 'little things' of passing moments. 
 They do not draw from the past nor borrow from the future. 
 'That which Thou givest them they gather." How, why, or what 
 they live for they hardly know. But, dear Hannah, I did not 
 mean one sad thought should come before you in this letter. You 
 speak of my visit to Trenton to be sure I think of it and hope to 
 go ; and Martha, too, for a short time but I cannot say I expect 
 to be there. It will be another dream, and somehow dreams never 
 do me good. With Ann Imlay, you think 'we three might almost 
 fancy ourselves school-girls again.' I don't need Ann to make 
 me quite do this; whenever we meet, mind and heart seem to run 
 back again the fourteen years to the warm, fresh feelings of girlish 
 days." 
 
 The person addressed in these letters as " Mother," was a very 
 dear Quaker cousin, several years older than Jeanette, and in whose 
 family she was a frequent and welcome visitor. The endearing 
 title of "mother" shows how fondly and lovingly they were at- 
 tached. 
 
 She was the mother of Edmund and Mary Harrison, whose names 
 appear in some of the letters.
 
 56 LETTERS TO COUSIX REBECCA. 
 
 TO MRS. REBECCA HARRISON, after the death of the writer's parents. 
 
 BROOKFIELD, Sept. 25, 1845. 
 DEAR MOTHER: 
 
 Now I want thee here just by me to tell thee all I have to say. 
 I will not thank thee and dear cousin George for the invitation, or 
 rather, welcome, thy letter contained ; nor attempt to say how 
 freely I accept and truly appreciate all this. Cousin Maria, too, 
 insists part of the winter shall be passed with her, and says how 
 very glad her mother will be to have me with them just as long as 
 I can stay. And two weeks, as soon as I am at liberty, my Trenton 
 friend claims. 
 
 I think we are all much happier than when I wrote last. The 
 heaviest clouds, I trust, have passed away, and at times something 
 of our wonted cheerfulness returns. I believe we have all decided 
 to leave as soon as arrangements will permit, after brother and sister 
 
 go to the city Nothing has been settled definitely, 
 
 . and every plan may be changed. Can't thee come and see us, dear 
 mother? I long to see thy quiet face about us again. Is it not 
 time for thee to look after thy vegetable-soup patient? We should 
 all be so glad to see thee here. I really feel sorry that I was not 
 with you all the time of Jeanette's quilting. I quite long to be 
 once more settled among you. I may go away often to other places 
 during the winter, but there will be my home. It is so pleasant to 
 feel I am not to go so far away from all my friends. I want to be 
 with Martha, but at present feel ncx inclination for a western home. 
 It was very different to talk about a year's visit to Martha, and to 
 talk about a home for life. I am too old to enjoy the thought of 
 forming new friendships among those who have never even heard 
 of me. Sometimes I think I shall not go at all. , Oh, my heart 
 has been so desolate, so objectless ! After one, and another, and 
 another were taken from me, my beloved father seemed the one 
 object left for me to live for. I felt I was essential to his happiness 
 and comfort ; I knew he thought so. - But now all is gone, and no 
 one human being needs my love and service. It is vain for dear, 
 dear Martha to tell me I am essential to her happiness, and always 
 shall be. I know this is not so ; in Mr. Canfield she has all. But 
 why talk thus? Dark as the future now is before my eyes there is
 
 THE VALUE OF FRIENDS. 57 
 
 One who can bring light out of darkness, and cause our greatest 
 sorrows and trials to work together for our highest good. I know 
 all is safe in His hands. Oh, that I could always feel this and en- 
 joy that sweet submission which flows from such belief! Pray for 
 me, dear mother, and when you all kneel around the footstool of 
 His grace, remember your lonely orphan child ; and may the 
 prayers offered and the kindness shown be returned fourfold into 
 your own bosom 1 God only can repay. To Him who will soon 
 bring us all to the possession of our one glorious, eternal inheritance, 
 be all honor and glory for all He has done for me, for all He will 
 ever do ! 
 
 With my deepest love to each one, I am, as ever, dear mother, 
 
 thy own 
 
 JEANETTE. 
 
 TO MRS. REBECCA HARRISON. 
 
 BROOKFIELD, Oct. 20, 1845. 
 DEAR MOTHER: 
 
 I cannot tell thee how grateful thy kind letter was to this heart, 
 how often, again and again, its affectionate expressions have come 
 before me, yesterday, and to-day. It seems, to me I never knew 
 the value of friends before, never felt their love. If thee could 
 know how the little circle at Hulmeville seems to me how near; 
 thee would feel and know a daughter's love is indeed thine. I 
 don't know what I should have done through this summer, in this 
 darkest and most desolate period of my life, had I not had thy 
 heart, and the Hulmeville home, and beloved ones to turn to. I 
 knew that, till death should call the last of them away, I should 
 never feel quite alone. Oh, that I could be thankful as I ought 
 for all my mercies left ! I could have wept when thee spoke of 
 wishing "to feel that my stay with Martha was to be a visit, not 
 for life;" just as I feel. I cannot bear the thought of separation 
 from thee and thine perhaps forever in this life. I want to feel 
 that thee wants, yes, needs me back again, and that I can be much 
 to those who have a parent's place in my affections. It is too far 
 away. My desire is, at least, to be near thee till death sepa- 
 rates 
 
 With respect to ourselves I hardly know what to say. As the
 
 58 A FATHER'S HAND DIRECTS. 
 
 season advances we more and more feel how lonely and desolate 
 is our fireside. All seem vacant places, never again to be filled in 
 time. Not one arrangement for the winter has yet been made. 
 We are hurrying our preparations, sewing, quilting, etc., for dear 
 Martha, sewing for John and ourselves, hoping to be able to leave 
 by the last week in November or first in December. As soon as 
 anything definite is known I will let thee know. My home is with 
 you all, and though other friends may call me much away, it will 
 be only visiting. I do not expect now to go out with Martha. 
 She will probably-not go to housekeeping till the ensuing autumn, 
 and I shall not join her till then. This pleases me much. I shall, 
 perhaps, then feel that I can say good-bye. Martha says she is 
 certainly coming to see thee some time before she leaves. We 
 often wish for thy pleasant, cheerful face amongst us. Lonely and 
 dreary are many days. I sometimes wonder if I shall ever be my- 
 self again. 
 
 But this is wrong. A Father's hand has done all this. Oh, that 
 we may "be still, and know that he is God! He is ever faithful 
 to His promises;" "all shall work together for good ;" "heavi- 
 ness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." 
 " His grace is sufficient, His strength is made perfect in weakness." 
 Oh, my dear mother, if I could but feel that my heart, as earthly 
 ties are broken, was drawn nearer to a Saviour's love ! But I never 
 seemed, in myself, so altogether wrong, so far from what I ought 
 to be, as I do now; so selfish, so full of wants, and weaknesses, and 
 unbelief. * May we all at length be taught to suffer and do all His 
 will, and to live only for His glory. 
 
 TO H. W. B. 
 
 January, 1846, from Burlington, when there on a visit. 
 
 " Indeed, dear girls, when Burlington gets in all her beauty next 
 summer you must come. I want to show you your friend's native 
 place. If I will promise you a warm welcome, you will not mind its 
 being a plain one. You would soon get used to Aunt W.'s neat 
 little sitting-room even to be wedged into Aunt A.'s tiny parlor; 
 nothing of these would be so bad if our timid but intelligent warm- 
 hearted Scotch cousin happened to be in her brightest mood. You
 
 TO HER SISTER MARTHA. 59 
 
 would learn from all this what I have always told you, that ours is 
 a plain family, boasting of nothing but its freedom from pretension. 
 Refinement of heart, and cultivation of taste and mind, such as 
 would fit us for any station in life, was our dear father's wish for 
 his children. ' Thy friend and thy father's friend forsake not' 
 enjoins the man of all wisdom, and I cannot tell you how near to 
 orphan hearts these relations of our dear parents have become. 
 Never can I forget when in our beautiful but desolate home their 
 kind urgent invitation came to us last fall to pass the winter with 
 them the delicacy, the love it showed us we three girls when 
 in my room (where you first slept, dear H.) and we sat down and 
 wept long, like very children. Ah, it would ill become us to feel 
 any pride now, with our future uncertain prospects. ' The peace 
 of God which passeth all understanding' I trust will ever be our 
 portion, whatever may be our situation and condition in life. This 
 blessing is enduring riches and perfect happiness ! We know this, 
 and all the future is left without a doubt or fear in His hands. 
 Whoso dwelleth in the defence of the Most High shall abide under 
 the shadow of the Almighty. 
 
 JEANETTE." 
 
 TO MRS. CANFIELD. 
 
 BROOKFIELD, Tuesday afternoon, June 2, 1846. 
 MY EVER PRECIOUS SISTER : 
 
 Soon as I received your last letter I felt I must write immediately; 
 though when I finished my former one I said to E. "I don't know 
 
 that I ever want to write to M again." You know that, by 
 
 constitution, realization of realities is always sudden, deep, and (in 
 mercy) momentary with me. Separation all in the present all 
 in the future our life my life came upon me. Do not blame 
 it could not have been met before, any more than turned aside 
 from then. Blessed be His name, who so early in life bestowed 
 His grace upon me, so that at such times I have ever been taught 
 to "be still, and know that He is God." Merciful, too, that pro- 
 vision of my nature (which some count weakness) that thoughts 
 and emotions so soon pass away; that whenever the spirit is pressed 
 till, to itself, there seems no life in it, it finds the power to rise
 
 60 SUFFERING REMOVED. 
 
 again, and renewed strength and vigor flows into it. I know nature 
 does much, but I trust grace aids in this. 
 
 You will learn from this, dearest, that I have, can have, nothing 
 now to learn from separation* from you; and that all the bitterness 
 of the trial has passed by. I realize all the changes of our position 
 now, but know, too, the character of the deep unquenchable love 
 that will ever, ever continue while life endures. "Like waters 
 that pass away," so soon has the suffering of this period been taken 
 from me; and perfect contentment, quiet, and peace take their 
 place again. But it is all over. I feel assured you are in the path 
 where God has placed you, and where He will take care of you; 
 and if I am His, " The Lord my pasture shall prepare, and feed me 
 with a shepherd's care." Among the thoughts, I was sure you were 
 lost forever; that our own old Martha, my sister, henceforth would 
 be, could only be, some other person. Your letter from Washing- 
 ton forever sets this at rest; you will always be the same. 
 
 TO MRS. CANFIELD, at Delaware, O. 
 
 BROOKFIELD, August 24, 1846. 
 
 . . . . But it will be strange, indeed, if you and I are not 
 happy together. Your marriage has broken me up; may be I 
 shall get back to be myself again with you. I have never for one 
 moment yet realized your new position. This is one reason why 
 I have so seldom written to you, and my letters have been such 
 lifeless things. I was always writing to somebody else ; you were 
 "passing the winter with Mrs. Richards," or "away from home at 
 school," to come back after a while. I have not been able to think 
 about you at all. But I must wipe away these tears, and say, as I 
 have often and truly said, "Never have I spent a happier summer 
 than the past" simple, natural pleasures, such as God can pour 
 into the heart when he takes away care and sorrow, and gives it to 
 feel the quiet joy of country life, when the feet and hands are 
 busy, trying to lose sight of self in thinking of and doing for 
 others 
 
 And now, dear, dear M., when shall we see each other face to 
 face? Oh, I dare not think of it. All, all seems like a dream that 
 
 * Refers to her sister's marriage the month before to Rev. Dr. Canfield.
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 6 1 
 
 you have gone ; that I am going to you; above all that your home 
 is in the far West. We shall be happy, I know ; but, dearest, do 
 not count my happiness by your own. This you must remember. 
 I mention this that you and brother C. may feel I anticipate no 
 great things for myself in this way. I dread, more .than words can 
 tell, having a home among those who know nothing of me stran- 
 gers. You know what you have always been to me, what being 
 with you must be. It was a little thing for one who took all with 
 her to leave old things, sacred and endeared associations. She 
 went to begin life anew. The difference is in the heart. God has 
 made that difference; He, too, will make the happiness, different 
 in kind, perhaps, not in degree; for He is fully able to satisfy and 
 fill the soul. 
 
 TO THE REV. S. C. DAMON, of Honolulu. 
 
 BROOKFIELD, Montgomery County, Pa., Aug. 29, 1846. 
 
 Yes, my dear friend, "S. C. D.," this is now the home of some 
 of those Burlington friends who have never forgotten you. Time, 
 it is said, softens every backward view, so that the further we ad- 
 vance on life's journey the brighter, more precious become scenes 
 left far behind. Then, surely, the converse of mind with mind, 
 the communion of Christian hearts, and the social fellowship of 
 friends in the house of prayer, and at the family fireside can never 
 be forgotten. And if friendship in its purity that power of appre- 
 ciation and understanding, that congeniality of spirit which binds 
 the heart to some who cross our path, while others pass on forgot- 
 ten if this power be of divine origin, come from heaven, then ''to 
 heaven it returneth;" and there will be its fruition of enjoyment, 
 when we "shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob in 
 the kingdom of heaven." The deeper, more sacred gift of the 
 heart, love, is indestructible ; it is here tried and purified, then 
 hath in heaven its perfect rest. And why may not the same be said 
 of friendship? Do not you, and she who shares your distant home, 
 often believe this as your memory dwells upon many left behind? 
 Dear friends, I do feel that heart will blend with kindred heart as 
 we unite in ascriptions of praise to the Lamb who washed us and 
 redeemed us to God with His blood; and deeper will be the notes
 
 62 A BEAUTIFUL HOME SADDENED. 
 
 of joy, sweeter, higher the songs of praise that, saved forever, by 
 our side are those we knew and loved and prayed for here. 
 
 Will there be future recognition? It may be so; it can do no 
 harm to think so (if "Scripture is silent,") while the soul looks for- 
 ward to "that rest" as deriving its source and fullness of joy from 
 the presence of the Lamb slain, the beholding of His face in right- 
 eousness. Many friends our friend, "S. C. D" can never be 
 forgotten. 
 
 Early in the spring your letter was received. Why has it not 
 been answered sooner ? Not because it was not truly appreciated. 
 Brother gave it to me in "the Union," just as we were getting in 
 the carriage to drive home; and if you had seen and heard all that 
 Jeanette and Martha said (occasionally appealing to John, who was 
 with them,) as they rode along, you would know tidings of a distant 
 friend are "good news." But I could not answer it; the thought 
 of it would make my heart swell with emotion too painful. 1 can 
 only say we are orphans. 
 
 In April, 1845, we moved to this more beautiful home than Point 
 Pleasant. Our beloved, patient mother was taken that month ; our 
 father the July following. In the first case there had been feeble 
 health all winter ; in the other agonizing illness for two weeks. 
 We had known sorrow before, but this was a far deeper drinking 
 of the cup, and for a long time our hearts refused to be comforted. 
 Not that the hand of the Lord was not with us; oh, no! His 
 mercy held us up, and never for one moment forsook us. Blessed 
 be His name, we do not sorrow for these as those without hope. 
 We laid them down to rest, we trust, sleeping in Jesus until the 
 resurrection morn. 
 
 The family of relatives with whom you stopped in Hulmeville 
 (the Harrisons as dear to my heart as our own)-^-have also suffered 
 much in the death of the only daughter and a younger son, a youth 
 of seventeen years. This, you know, was to me as the loss of a 
 brother and sister ; for years I had been loved and considered as 
 such. But blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. They were 
 early called, and fitted, we trust, for their Saviour's kingdom. 
 "How grows in paradise our store!" may we well exclaim, as we 
 glance over the six years since you left this country. You, too, 
 dear friend, have begun your treasure there, and have given back 
 to God one precious gift of His love, your first-born little boy. A
 
 LOVES THE CHURCH. 63 
 
 deeper shadow must have been cast over the mother's heart, because 
 separated from her family and nearest friends in the hour of trial. 
 But she had, I doubt not, all that could be given by the watchful 
 love of him for whose sake home and kindred had been forsaken ; 
 and, above all, the support and comfort of a Saviour's love. Let 
 us not murmur under the chastenings of the Lord, nor faint when 
 we are rebuked of Him. If Christ is our portion, " the sufferings 
 of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory 
 which shall be revealed." 
 
 What has become of the prayer-book I gave you ? Do 
 not think that I am less an Episcopalian than in other days. Ex- 
 perience has only more and more taught me the beauty and 
 excellence of the visible church of Christ of which I am an 
 unworthy member. Her liturgy and articles need only to be 
 examined to be respected and loved. Under the protection of 
 the God of salvation she will not be destroyed, -though at times she 
 is cast down by the power of enemies within and without her border. 
 
 How I should like to drop in and sit an evening with you and 
 your little ones. Will' you never come to America again? Your 
 home seems to be one of the far-off, green spots of our world, and 
 I know you fill just the little niche marked out for you by the hand 
 that "chooses the bounds of our habitation." The Lord is with 
 you. I can imagine your ways and manner of doing good to the 
 poor homeless sailors. Nature, as well as, I trust, grace, fits you 
 for your high and useful vocation. Be not weary in well-doing ; 
 the sown seed will spring up, though the blossom and perfected 
 fruit may never be perceived by your eye till you behold them 
 flourishing in the paradise of God. The bread by your hands is 
 literally "cast upon the waters," but it is to be found "after many 
 days." 
 
 But I must come back to our own family circle and tell you 
 something of our dear sister Martha. Her home is in Ohio. Last 
 May (1846) she was married to a clergyman of our church, the 
 Rev. E. H. Canfield, a native of Arlington, Vt. He was for some 
 years connected with Mr. Uobbs' school; taught at Bristol College, 
 opposite Burlington. His church is in Delaware, the county town, 
 north of Columbus. Dear Martha is very happy ; she insists that 
 I shall pass this winter with her. Our little family are willing pro- 
 vided I come back in the spring. I have no desire to go am much
 
 64 LIFE'S SHADOWS FELT, NOT SEEN. 
 
 too old to like new places but I want to be with this dearest sister; 
 though my heart must ever cling to scenes of childhood's days; 
 here my youth has passed, and earthly joys and hopes have passed. 
 
 I have but few family cares, though housekeeper; and, for the 
 first time in my life, know the pleasure of attempting out-door use- 
 fulness. Oh, it is comparatively easy to have the hands and feet 
 busy in well-doing; but who shall order the heart and purify its 
 motives, so that it can always testify "the love of Christ constraineth 
 me?" 
 
 I must say farewell. If we never again speak face to face, it 
 will be but as a day before the morning of eternity shall open upon 
 us. That you and yours, and all dear to us, may be forever in 
 Him, and have part in the first resurrection ever prays 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 JEANETTE HULME. 
 
 Sept. 7, 1846. 
 
 Before closing my package for our distant friends I must say a 
 few more words, though my letter is already long enough to prove 
 I am just the Jeanette of past days. The shadows that have fallen 
 upon my heart through life are felt, not seen. How sure I am that 
 friend "S. C. D.," wife, and I, might again pass hours together of 
 no common social enjoyment. All changes would be forgotten. 
 Oh, how sweet is the hope of that "better country" to which, I 
 trust, we are hastening ! Christ is our hope, may we be found in 
 Him! 
 
 Do write very soon, everything about self, wife, and little ones. 
 Do not address "Miss Jeanette;" though I am an "old maid," 
 I am not particular in demanding respectful titles. You will write 
 to old friends who must learn from your letters they are not for- 
 gotten. Again let me say how I should love to see you and 
 your little family. Do you not remember I promised to join you 
 and wife if I should outlive family claims? Those may prove 
 prophetic words, and my days may close on those distant Islands. 
 Has not the providence of God registered stranger events? My 
 heart is now much divided. John and E. "must have Jeanette 
 here," Martha "must have her in the West." But the days may 
 come when- none may be left to claim my services and love, and
 
 A DIVIDED HEART. 65 
 
 He who has in love and mercy chosen all my changes may appoint 
 me some service amid new and distant scenes. He doeth all things 
 well. Pray that I may be wholly His; then it will matter not 
 whether I have compassed oceans and seas to do His bidding, or 
 only learned to "stand and wait;" I shall be His forever, through 
 the riches of His grace. 
 
 TO MRS. CANFIELD AT DELAWARE, OHIO. 
 
 Sept. 1846. 
 MY OWN DEAREST ONE: 
 
 It is now decided I shall probably leave home early next week. 
 Do not think about our meeting. I do not feel as if I can write one 
 word. Oh, ever since your first letter in the summer, fixing the 
 idea of my being with you this winter, how divided has been this 
 heart ! The last few weeks I cannot describe. Sometimes I thought 
 I should never get to you. Everybody opposed, every one had 
 some objection. John was distressed about the sickness; all said I 
 should be sick, and only increase your trouble. He seems half 
 sick with the thought of separation, and is really much troubled 
 about my leaving him considers his "claims far above any body's 
 else," etc. / have not been afraid of the sickness, but would not, 
 for your sake, seek danger; and so would not take the responsi- 
 bility of deciding contrary to their .wishes. I will come and do 
 what I can. All our lives are in His hand who "chooses all our 
 changes." We are able to say, "This God is our God forever and 
 ever." Happy, blessed is our lot, whatever may be earth's portion 
 measured out to us, while hastening on to our inheritance above. 
 " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee" is our promise. May 
 only His will be done! The thought of all the illness about you 
 has made us very sad, but I hope this will find things much better. 
 
 I am in all things, as ever, 
 
 Your own
 
 66 OHIO COLUMBUS DELAWARE. 
 
 V. 
 
 " In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy paths. The Lord 
 shall guide thee continually." 
 
 Comes to Ohio First impressions Happiness of her sister, Mrs Canfield, in her 
 New Home. Oct. 1846 March, 1847. 
 
 IN the month of October, 1846, Miss Hulme came to Delaware, 
 having for escort Mr. P. B. Wilcox, of Columbus the journey be- 
 ing made by stage coach. Arriving at Columbus she was the guest 
 of Mr. J. W. A.'s family for one night, and often spoke in terms 
 of grateful recollection of the courtesy there extended to her an 
 entire stranger. Her graceful figure and beautiful face encircled, 
 as it then was, by natural curls, with the addition of her entertaining 
 conversation, won the admiration of these new acquaintances, and 
 established them as enduring friends. A gentleman living there 
 afterwards spoke of meeting her on the street at that time, but not 
 knowing who she was, he could not resist the impulse to turn and 
 look at her again, so deeply impressed was he with the beautiful 
 figure and sweet face that had just passed him. 
 
 How it should increase our admiration to know that she had con- 
 secrated these charming gifts to the service of Him, whose faithful 
 servant she was, and whose hand was now guiding her to the place 
 where the happiest days of her life were to be passed. 
 
 Her first letter to home friends from Delaware was to her brother 
 John, which is here given. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., Oct. 19, 1846. 
 
 My first letter was to be to you, dearest brother; now what shall 
 it be about? I would not write last week, because I wanted to be 
 able to see things and people in their true light, and Mattie said, 
 "No, not till after Sunday." 
 
 It needed but one glance as Martha met me at the door, to put 
 all thoughts of sickness and sadness far away. From morning to
 
 A TRIAL HEART LONGINGS. 67 
 
 night her cheerful voice and laughing tone (she laughs all the 
 time, and Mr. C. says no day without a laugh has passed since she 
 left us!) plainly declare she has all her heart can wish. I believe 
 it. Do not think the wealth of the Indies could add one item to 
 her happiness. And (between ourselves) in one sense it would 
 make no difference if every relative and friend lived in the furthest 
 corner of the world. Her husband is the whole of life to her. I 
 have not felt jealous. I knew it must be so, and love this sister of 
 my childhood so much that I cannot but enjoy the sight and thought 
 of her perfect happiness. I say perfect, because she has all this 
 world allows. I mention this more for the sister's sake than to 
 please you. I can imagine your smile. It is well for old maids 
 and bachelors to smile; I smile, too. But the truth remains: the 
 Creator of the heart has ordained its sources of happiness; these 
 neglected, or by the providence of His hand turned aside, its deep- 
 est joys and brightest hopes can never be known. Not in theory, 
 only practically, am I an old maid. 
 
 I have thought of you and dear E. oh, how much ! for the first 
 day or two not without tears that would start. It is all well. But the 
 trial of leaving you, and quiet eastern settled life, with its thousand 
 sacred associations, was more than I can ever tell. My whole 
 journey here, and the heart longings for you the first few days must 
 not be remembered or spoken of .... 
 
 I can't describe this town Delaware; as a county-seat it is much 
 smaller than I expected perhaps as large as Lewisburg or larger 
 but full of business and activity; a mixed population, preaching on 
 
 Sunday in four different languages I feel " all strange," 
 
 and can't tell about the people yet. I found elegant cards of invi- 
 tation to Miss P.'s wedding on Wednesday eve. I had to go. 
 With a bow of white ribbon, white gloves, and a home-heart, I was 
 ushered into the "ladies' room," among a group of laughing faces. 
 I am sorry I cannot describe this evening, but really my feelings 
 made me too much out of place to enjoy or understand anything. 
 . . . . I looked all about to see if there was one looking like 
 a friend for me, gentleman or lady. I saw none. But more of the 
 young folks hereafter, when I get acquainted. I may like many 
 when I know them. 
 
 The church is a beautiful Gothic building, of gray stone, with 
 arched, many-paned windows, etc., in perfect keeping with the
 
 68 LONELINESS COLUMBUS. 
 
 design. The wedding party came into the church after the usual 
 lecture, which we attended. When the sweet rich tones of the 
 organ first struck upon ray ear, there came a rushing recollection 
 of old St. Mary's ("our old choice"), and your place and mine, 
 and many faces never more to be seen on earth. Oh, what loneli- 
 ness! How far from home I seemed! I cannot mingle with 
 strangers. My happiness was found for me in our own quiet 
 neighborhood the past year, and in old tried friends. But I know 
 the same hand can give the same degree of happiness here. I felt 
 sure of this yesterday, when in our most comfortable, well-finished 
 basement a Bible class of intelligent girls was put under my care. 
 Everything about the church pleases me 
 
 You will have to come yourself to take me home, I am sure, 
 dear brother. So contrive this winter to lay by just twice twenty- 
 five dollars, and come for me next May Can I ever 
 
 live in the West? It is no place for old maids with Eastern hearts, 
 though "little women" are much liked. 
 
 The first real frost last night. Saw no country to be compared 
 in point of beauty and attractiveness with our own ; nor one view 
 superior or equal to Prospect Hill. Tell E. to look, ride about, 
 
 and enjoy it while she may Columbus, one of the 
 
 fairest spots ever seen, East and West meet. Refinement, luxury, 
 education, and taste, with independence, activity, and spirit of pro- 
 gress; and New Haven houses, yards, grounds, etc. ! 
 
 It was not long before she became interested in parish work, 
 identifying herself with the rector's plans and rendering efficient 
 service in the Sunday-school and church, and soon, too, became a 
 general favorite with both old and young. 
 
 TO HER SISTER. 
 
 DELAWARE, March 10, 1847. 
 DEAR SISTER : 
 
 Martha, as usual, is sitting by, dressed in "brown striped 
 wrapper," busily engaged with a large volume of Washington 
 Irving's works, open at "Tales of a Traveller." Mr. C. Platt 
 brought this book last evening, with the fifth part of " Dombey and 
 Son"," which he read to me. We did not like tne parts at all, but 
 hearing they were reading it at home made us want to look it over.
 
 DICKENS. 69 
 
 \ 
 
 It is nothing to read to one's self, but is in interest above most 
 other books to listen to in the family circle. Poor little Paul ! 
 How often I thought of brother John's voice and manner of read- 
 ing his sweet, sad story, as the new reader read the many beautiful 
 passages last evening. The whole character of the child has deeply 
 interested us. The longing of his gentle spirit, the quickened sense 
 of the beautiful and undying, the infantile purity of his heart, and 
 all, all that spoke of a spirit too finely tuned for an earthly home 
 brought back with thrilling power one taken from our side our 
 brother. Can it be that a mind can conceive images utterly strange 
 
 to the heart ? It seems as if Dickens must be a better man 
 
 Private boarding cannot be found; no pleasant houses can be 
 rented ; cooks and chambermaids are things unknown by name. But 
 notwithstanding all this a fine hotel is finishing; and if Miss Harland 
 will not stay long with her old Eastern friends we will engage she 
 shall be as comfortable and pleasantly fixed for summer months as 
 she can expect or wish, considering she is in "the West," occupy- 
 ing the place of huts and wigwams, forests, and Indian trails a few 
 years ago. Everybody who can should pass some time in our "far 
 West," and at least glance at this noble portion of our State, and 
 see its moving, working, settling power as plans and people are 
 worked up and moulded into social and civilized life. Are you not 
 all coming this summer? You and brother certainly will; but 
 more of this hereafter.
 
 70 NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 VI. 
 
 " I being in the way the Lord led me." 
 "The days of thy mourning shall be ended." 
 
 New acquaintances Engagement Letters to her husband before marriage 
 Strength of religious character Return to Brookfield via Lake Erie and New 
 York Marriage and return to Ohio. 1847. 
 
 WHETHER to lift the veil that should always sacredly conceal 
 from other eyes that interval between acquaintance, plighting of 
 troth, and marriage, and reveal any part of what then occurred, is 
 a question that has been many times turned over in the mind, 
 doubtful of its propriety. But as the object in this memorial is to 
 set forth the life and character of our loved one as it was a "living 
 epistle," testifying to the truth and power of the religion of our 
 Lord and Saviour, under all circumstances so much of what then 
 passed, as will do this, is here given. 
 
 Her affections were bestowed with all the devotion and sincerity 
 of her earnest nature, fully and freely, with but one condition 
 "My God must be thy God." And this position was inflexibly 
 taken: "Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, could 
 separate her from the love of God." This point decided, there 
 was ever after not for time only, but, as was believed, for eternity, 
 perfect oneness in all things. The strength and depth of this 
 mutual love being made more abiding and endearing through her 
 decision, and the love of God constraining. 
 
 *Her religious convictions and principles were manifested in her 
 letters written previous to marriage; not in any sense obtrusively, 
 but naturally, in simplicity and Godly sincerity. The following 
 extract is from her first letter: 
 
 August, 1847. 
 
 Oh, no ! emotions such as these cannot be told, can only be read 
 by Him whose hand formed the heart "the harp of thousand, 
 thousand strings" who tunes those strings, and ever holds them
 
 MY GOD MUST BE THY GOD. 71 
 
 in His hand, so that no breath can pass upon them, no chord can 
 vibrate, but at His will. Yes, he knows our hearts. Oh, let us 
 give those hearts into His holy keeping. Then earth can have no 
 sorrow that His face cannot brighten, no temptation.that His grace 
 cannot "make a way of escape" for, and no good that He will not 
 freely bestow. Deep, sure, abiding peace through the fleeting days 
 yet yours here, and in your eternal life to come glory and joy ever- 
 lasting. Oh, shall not this be your chosen portion? 
 
 Yes, He knows our hearts, and I trust will guide us in all things 
 as shall be for our best and highest good. Shall we not in all things 
 say, "Be Thou our guide?" Forgive me for saying so much, but 
 should I not speak now? Must not this my first letter tell, as did 
 my first words, "My God must be thy God?" Oh, for one to 
 whose words of love my heart has so strangely, willingly listened ! 
 I seem to have but one desire. May the Spirit of all grace guide 
 that one into all truth ! Think not, when duty is but a task, and 
 the heart seerns to turn blindly, wilfully away from the view of 
 eternal things, that God has turned from you, or that His ear has 
 not heard the faint desires you may have expressed, and the imper- 
 fect resolutions you have formed. Oh, no! "He waits to be 
 gracious." He is only, while holding you in His hand, showing 
 you yet deeper and deeper views of 'what the heart of man is, and 
 how utterly unable to help itself without His grace. That grace is 
 ready to be poured out, that at such a moment, all ruined, dark, 
 and ignorant as he is, man may have a helper. The Son of God 
 suffered and died; He listens; "we are saved through Him." 
 
 Forgive me, I did not want to preach. This is but the expression 
 of my heart. 
 
 [The tenor of these letters to her husband before marriage will be better under- 
 stood when it is known that he had not yet ratified and confirmed the solemn vow 
 that was made in his name at baptism.] 
 
 August, 1847. 
 
 . . . . There are thoughts that will press upon the heart, 
 thoughts of you, of ourselves; and why shall I not tell them? 
 . . . Let us each have this privilege upon all subjects, re- 
 serving only thoughts, the expression of which lessens their sacred- 
 ness or destroys their feeling power. "The rosebud is no sooner
 
 72 A SOCIAL RELIGION. 
 
 unfolded to the glare of day than its perfume is lost." The deep 
 recesses of the heart where the eye of God only can penetrate, the 
 secret workings of the immortal mind, the transactions of the soul 
 of man with its Maker cannot, perhaps, ought not to be exposed to 
 any mortal eye. The depths of the soul are open only to its God. 
 Oh, blessed is the privilege to man when he begins to look within, 
 that he can bow before and pour out his whole soul unto a God 
 that knows and can understand him ! And when this God is re- 
 vealed and we behold Him in "the face of Jesus Christ," "God 
 our Saviour," and learn and believe that with His knowledge of 
 us is joined infinite power to do all for us and in us; oh, has not 
 the soul found its all-sufficient, its satisfying portion? May this be 
 your chosen portion, "Israel's God" your God, Jesus your tried, 
 valued, ever precious Saviour 
 
 The subject of religion can never be put from the lips of those 
 who rightly love each other; "out of the abundance of the heart" 
 the mouth must speak. Its helps, its comforts, its consolations, its 
 power to shield us against the tempter's designs and the corruptions 
 of our own hearts, our secret foes within, the world without, its 
 strength in our hour of weakness, its joys in our moments of sorrow, 
 its peace and blessed hope in darkest days of despondency and 
 want, its strength in life, its power in death, surely of all this the 
 heart must speak. The religion of Jesus is a social religion ; hearts 
 that feel its power must speak of its worth, must say to all about 
 them, "come" (Rev. xxii. 17.) .... 
 
 There are some things that need not, cannot be told. . . . . 
 Thoughts that lose their sacredness when revealed should be known 
 only to God. 
 
 August 22, 1847. 
 
 Is Jennie H. a quiet, thoughtful, reflective being? Then, indeed, 
 she is changed. Does she seem to herself other than a bird of 
 passage through life's scenes of joys and sorrows, daily gathering 
 up the crumbs of happiness let fall for her from a Heavenly hand, 
 and drinking of all the little streams of pleasure that spring up in 
 her path, unquestioning whence they came or how long their con- 
 tinuance? For sorrow, painful thought, and anxious care already 
 known dare not look back ; for experience of all life is, cannot look 
 forward, but who only tries to learn day by day, hour by hour to
 
 NEW, DEEP HAPPINESS. 73 
 
 trust her happiness, her earthly, her eternal all into her heavenly 
 Father's hand, her Saviour's keeping. Such she has been; how 
 is she changed, and why? Oh, will that change cloud that blessed 
 source of happiness that has been her portion since her first child- 
 hood days? Or will emotions stirring the depths, quickening and 
 expanding the immortal nature, but lead that nature yet nearer and 
 nearer to God the eternal source of love ? 
 
 Such, dear friend, is one of the deep questionings which the 
 "old me" permits. How does my heart reply? It knows not 
 how to answer; it can only pray that the good, ever-watchful 
 Shepherd will not suffer His erring, feeblest lamb to wander from 
 His side .and choose any pasture, however fresh and green, that 
 He has not provided for her ; nor drink of any earthly stream un- 
 blessed by His choosing, approving love. Oh, if in His sight our 
 hearts are one. and if hereafter one shall be our path through life, 
 shall not that path lead us to one eternal, heavenly home? When 
 the hour of rest from all earthly things has come, and my spirit 
 waits to take its eternal flight, and life with all its scenes passes 
 before my eyes, how shall this transaction appear? Has it hasted 
 and helped the soul, or has it marred and bound and darkened that 
 spirit in its heavenly journey? The love that you offer, the new, 
 deep happiness which you open before me presses this question 
 upon me. If I am dear to you, if my earthly all of happiness is in 
 your hands, turn not away, the answer is with you not to be made 
 to me, but to be found in your life, to be answered to your God, 
 our God. 
 
 In September, to make preparations for her marriage, she started 
 for Philadelphia, in company with Mr. S. L. and C. H., going via 
 Sandusky and Lake Erie to Buffalo and New York. She writes: 
 
 ON BOARD STEAMBOAT BUFFALO, Sept. 16, 1847. 
 
 . . . We are comfortably fixed for our lake ride, a beau- 
 tiful day, bright sky, and fair winds being given us. The rfde to 
 Mansfield in the stage was uncomfortable, and made me quite un- 
 well from a feeling of faintness and extreme weakness. Mr. H 
 
 was very kind, supporting me with his arm. I can never forget his
 
 74 SOUL LONGINGS HOW SATISFIED. 
 
 kindness. No father could more tenderly have held his daughter. 
 I don't know when little kindnesses have touched me 
 more than those of the Delaware friends of yesterday. Indeed, I 
 dared not think of all, all the goodness, the "loving kindness," 
 which a Heavenly hand has measured out to me through all my 
 past life. The last loving acts: my home among strangers; the 
 many hearts so strangely turned to me; the realization, in its deep- 
 est, fullest sense, of the orphan's sweet promise, "When thy father 
 and thy mother forsake thee, then the Lord will take thee up;" the 
 gift of your love, with its new, strange, immeasurable joys Oh, my 
 pen must stop, I cannot tell you. He who reads our hearts only 
 knows what your love has given to me. I receive it as His gift, 
 am not afraid to use it, not afraid of abusing it, for He holds it in 
 His hand. It is sanctified by his highest blessing, the blessing of 
 His grace. It will bind our hearts to Him ; it is linked with immor- 
 tality. Oh, how can, how does, that heart live that is bounded by 
 earthly hopes and desires; that cannot look beyond and feel the 
 immortality of its love! 
 
 It is not that I "love you so much," so very much, but that the 
 love I do bear you is so filled with yearnings, longings, and depths 
 of spiritual meaning, that prove it belongs to the soul, the immortal 
 part of our nature that nature which can only be fully satisfied 
 when we shall awake in the likeness of God, and mortality shall 
 have put on immortality. Is it not so? .... 
 
 I have just come from the upper deck, where my heart, mind, 
 and quiet thoughts have had deepest enjoyment. I cannot tell you 
 how beautiful this lake appears to me. Your own heart can know 
 how I have watched the clouds, gilded by the setting sun, the 
 spreading sails of the bird-like vessels that seem floating about, the 
 soft moonlight on the sparkling waters, with the glorious wake of 
 light; the twinkling stars above, and the musical splashing of the 
 waters below; all is beautiful. 
 
 Thursday morning. Such a sweet sleep as I had last night ! 
 How was it with thee? .... I must feel that you are happy, 
 I hop*e very happy. The blessing of God, the quiet peace, hope, 
 and loving trust which His grace bestows, the bright dawning of 
 all this is surely yours. Yours, too, dearest, will be the noontide 
 light. Dim, gray morning light must give place to the glories of 
 noon. The sun rises but to continue his shining; so the Sun of
 
 LAKE ERIE A MORNING KISS. 75 
 
 Righteousness, Jesus our Saviour, has never cast one beam of light 
 and hope upon any heart, but that heart was to be made all light, 
 all joy, all peace, through the fulness of His grace. "His sins, 
 which are many, are all forgiven." The cloud of darkness, cold- 
 ness, and ignorance has been taken away from between him and 
 his God. Almighty, sovereign grace has turned his feet, and lifted 
 up his face toward heaven. The dimness of the new light may not 
 make this plain to him, but henceforth his path will be as "the 
 shining light, which shineth brighter and brighter unto the perfect 
 day." Beloved one, this is God's testimony, God's covenant, 
 sealed with the blood of His beloved Son. Surely it is to us a 
 "sure foundation." Trusting here, we shall "never perish, but 
 have everlasting life." 
 
 How beautiful is this morning ! How much I am enjoying this 
 homeward trip homeward? no, my home is only with thee and 
 in thy love. Our boat is very full. After breakfast we enjoyed 
 the charming view for a long time; kind Mr. L. finding me a quiet 
 spot on the forward deck, and then standing a quiet protector at 
 my side, while I indulged my own selfish thoughts and fancies, 
 with my face turned toward the broad, blue lake, with its floating 
 clouds and silvery mists. Soon a little girl who was a night-neighbor 
 (and who somewhat surprised and bothered me for a public morning 
 kiss before breakfast), came to us bringing her father, a pleasant, 
 gentlemanly man from Cleveland. She would come to- "that 
 lady," her mother said, for she "could not like the old people." 
 Now, only see how full of conceit your Jennie is. 
 
 I had better seal my letter or I shall have but little time to give 
 dear Martha. Strange that any one could come between that loved 
 sister and Jennie. But "mysterious is His power" that brings 
 wandering hearts together, and by that sweet sympathy those 
 "nature-links and silken ties" which His own hand forms, binds 
 them together never to be severed by earthly hands. 
 
 "They err who tell us love can die; 
 With life all other passions fly, 
 But love is indestructible; 
 Its holy flame forever burneth, 
 From heaven it came, to heaven returneth."
 
 76 LAKE ERIE PLEASANT THOUGHTS. 
 
 TO MRS. E. H. CANFIELD. 
 
 STEAMBOAT BUFFALO, Thursday Morning, 10 o'clock, Sept. 1847. 
 
 DEAREST SISTER: 
 
 I have folded my other letter, and now promise a few lines to 
 
 you We had a hurried dinner at Mansfield ; and then 
 
 pleasant seats in the most comfortable cars, and a ride through the 
 most interesting part of Ohio. Sandusky plains with their neat 
 farm-houses and pretty villages, crossed at sunset hour, are no 
 common ride. I felt myself again, and enjoyed it much, very 
 much. Too late for a boat at Sandusky; all night at the "Porter 
 House;" pleasant sleep, though in a too small room. After breakfast 
 Will and I strolled up the streets and saw Mr. Campbell's pleasant 
 house; tell "L." I like Sandusky very much. We came on board 
 our boat at 8 o'clock. O, this lake-travelling! I cannot tell you 
 how charmed I am with it ; the lake itself is perfectly beautiful ; 
 and such pleasant company, such beautiful sights and sounds; and 
 oh, such pleasant thoughts and bright, bright hopes ! Dear M. I 
 am another being, live in another world ; and if the glowing pictures 
 were not lighted from heaven, if the bright hopes did not rest on 
 God, my heart would fail with its own new joy. Oh, how can that 
 heart love that cannot look beyond this world and feel the immor- 
 tality of its love! You will be surprised that I am so happy; but 
 I do not feel to be going away from all of you; the home of my 
 heart is forever fixed. Oh, how strange, how mysterious all this 
 for me ! I cannot write to you now, such thronging thoughts will 
 come; I shall soon, very soon be with you; I do, I must feel this; 
 this homeward journey seems but steps onward in the path that will 
 soon put me by your side, dearest sister. Is it strange to say this? 
 I cannot help it. 
 
 Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Wheat, from Nashville, Tenn., are in our 
 company. Mr. Howard introduced me to them ; most pleasant 
 and intelligent people. If it were not for the attractions of my 
 pen I should have had such pleasant long talks with divers young 
 and old folks, who are so kind and friendly to your sister. I am 
 
 just as full of " conceit" as ever, tell brother C . Dear brother 
 
 C ! 'twas too bad not to bid him good-bye. Love, much love 
 
 to him, and a thousand kisses to darling Jamie. I mean to see
 
 BROOKFIELD BEST EARTHLY GIFTS. 77 
 
 him again before he gives you one of those pretty teeth he has 
 been promising us so long, see if I don't. 
 
 Here comes Mr. L . Almost to Buffalo the pleasantest 
 
 trip, the most beautiful scenery, all and everything so pleasant ! 
 
 Much love to dear E and Elmora, and all who ask if you have 
 
 heard from me. Tell Elmora I carried her flowers in my hand all 
 day, and now they lie quietly in one corner of my travelling-bag, 
 with their sweet wishes still echoing in my heart. 
 
 Good-bye, dear, dear sister ! we must meet soon. I have only 
 left you for a little while. God bless you and yours ! 
 
 Your own 
 
 JEANETTE. 
 
 TO MR. PLATT. 
 
 BROOKFIEI.D, 28 Sept. 1847. 
 
 The new sweet happiness that your love gives me, ever causes 
 my heart to tremble with emotion too deep for words. With grate- 
 ful wonder it asks, "Is this your heart, Jeanette Hulme of other 
 days? Is this the heart that 'could not love?' that 'love could 
 never make happy?' that had never been made happy by offered 
 love.?" Oh, I am now- a full believer in the existence and power 
 of love. I now understand all that the poets have ever sung of its 
 sweet influence ; more, all th^t the Sacred Word has declared of 
 its power. Is it not God's highest, holiest, best earthly gift to 
 man? In a dark world ruined by sin, has it not survived "the 
 fall," and lived to bless God's fallen children with the sweetest 
 joys that now this earth can know? Oh, may that love which He 
 has thus, given us for each other, but lead our hearts to Him, the 
 giver of the gift ! Oh, may we day by day remember His favor 
 only can make the gift a blessing ! Together may we seek that 
 favor ! 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 
 BROOKFIELDj Sept. 30, 1847. 
 
 It is very pleasant to be again in the midst of our little circle of 
 dear ones. I enjoy every kind look and word, feel every little 
 pleasure, as never before. My heart seems new-strung and new- 
 tuned for joy. There is a brightness cast over earthly objects such
 
 78 PRECIOUS, GLORIOUS PROMISES. 
 
 as I have never seen before I try to remember and 
 
 look to the First cause of all this joy. I know that God has ordered 
 and ruled all the changes of my life, and would look first to Him, 
 and then, trusting to His approval, hoping for His blessing, cling, 
 as woman's love only can, to the earthly object which He has given 
 
 her. The remainder of my life is bound up in another 
 
 The deep unselfish interest which all around me take in my happi- 
 ness, their pleased willingness that I should let my heart dictate in 
 every future plan, their single desire that their sister should be 
 happy. I must feel this. It is well for Jennie that this is so. Is 
 it not another evidence of the watchful love of Him who knows her 
 heart, and fits all the little circumstances of her daily life in accord- 
 ance with the nature He has given her? This visit home, instead 
 of being, as I feared, painful, from so many causes, is made so 
 comforting, so filled with sweet pleasures. Try to be thankful for 
 me, try to help me to be more thankful. How slowly we- measure 
 the blessings from His hand! How coldly we count them over! 
 How feebly speak their praises ! Blessed is that word of promise 
 that speaks of One who "died for our sins," who knoweth our 
 infirmities, and who "ever liveth to make intercession for us." 
 Surely we need His grace. Without Him we are forever lost; 
 with Him, His grace in our hearts, "there is no more condemna- 
 tion." Our names "are written in the Lamb's book of life," and 
 we "shall never perish, neither shall any man be able to pluck us 
 out of His hand." For time, for eternity, we are saved. Beloved 
 one, is not the one first object of our future life to be, seeking this 
 to be our portion ? Oh, let us now and ever strive, day by day, 
 to know and do His will, who has given us such precious, glorious 
 promises to win our hearts to Him. 
 
 Never think that my happiness will require aught beside my own 
 dear one; or that any sorrow or sickness can make my heart turn 
 away from my chosen home. That home is with thee ; thy people 
 are to be my people, my God thy God ; " whither thou goest, I 
 will go; where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried." 
 I trust this is Jennie's love; she could not love less, she can give 
 no more.
 
 MARRIAGE RETURN TO OHIO. 79 
 
 BROOKFIELD, Oct. 4, 1847. 
 
 Discomfort and petty annoyances we must expect, wherever we 
 may be, under any circumstances. Thorns will grow about the 
 roses; rainbows cannot be made without clouds. Earthly care 
 and sorrow must follow us, increase upon us every step we tread 
 in that new life. Shall we turn back? Yes, beloved one, if we 
 rely on our own strength, far, far better. It is God's grace that 
 must sweeten every care, that must overcome all the evil that is in 
 ourselves, so that our love for each other shall always increase, 
 giving such peace and comfort as outward circumstances cannot 
 disturb. It is the belief that we know and feel this that quiets my 
 trembling heart, that drives away dark doubts, and enables me to 
 continue true to all my love has promised. God's grace assisting, 
 I will try to be to thee all that I ought. But, oh, how many dis- 
 appointments thee will meet ; how many inconsistencies, weak- 
 nesses, and infirmities thee will find in me! 
 
 The marriage took place on Tuesday, the gth of November, at 
 twelve o'clock, in the church of the Epiphany, Philadelphia, the 
 Rector, Rev. J. H. Fowles, officiating. 
 
 The late Dr. John A. Little, then a medical student in the city, 
 accompanied the bridegroom as a friend;, there were no bride's- 
 maids nor groomsmen ; the family assembled in the vestry-room, 
 and all went together into the church, forming a group in front of 
 the chancel. 
 
 The same day they started for Ohio, accompanied by Mrs. 
 Platt's younger sister, going by way of Baltimore and Pittsburg, 
 stopping at the latter city a few days to visit the family of Mrs. 
 Platt's cousin, Jas. S. Craft, Esq., brother of Mrs. Maccracken, 
 of Lancaster. 
 
 When they arrived in Delaware, Mrs. Platt, having turned from 
 the loved and sacred associations of her eastern home, adapted 
 herself with rare grace and wisdom to the scenes and duties in the 
 new life before her. Duties which were to develop the charms 
 and excellencies of her earnest Christian character, as well as to 
 show that the experiences of her early life had eminently fitted her 
 for this new sphere of usefulness.
 
 80 DELAWARE NEW BLESSINGS. 
 
 VII. 
 
 "Lo, children are a heritage of the Lord." 
 
 Happiness of her married life Birth of first child Visit to Columbus Rev. D. 
 A. Tyng Rev. Dr. Canfield returns east with his family Birth of second 
 child Pleasant visit from W. A. P. and wife Letters to her sister Martha. 
 March, 1848, to December, 1850. 
 
 TO MRS. REBECCA HARRISON. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., 25 March, 1848. 
 DEAR MOTHER: 
 
 IT is nearly two months since I said, "I will write to Cousin 
 Rebecca now." We have been housekeeping just that long, and 
 the first thing I wanted to do after we found ourselves in our own 
 cottage, was to write to thee and tell thee how I wanted to have 
 thee here, to See how snugly, comfortably, and nicely we were 
 fixed. I know thee would have a mother's happiness in the home 
 of one thee has so long, so tenderly loved. I can see thy quiet 
 smile in thy assurance of my happiness ; yes, I feel it. The same 
 hand Divine, the same grace that taught us how to sorrow together, 
 would now, does now, enable us to share in each other's joy. 
 Dear mother, if thee has ever asked for me days of quiet peace 
 and happiness, that the gladness of youth might be restored, and 
 care and sorrow pass away, thy wish has been fulfilled. I know 
 thee will recognize the hand that hath done this, and truly rejoice, 
 even though tears will mingle. "He maketh sore, and bindeth 
 up; He woundeth, and His hands make whole." 
 
 We often smile together as we act upon thy well-remembered 
 precept given to me: "Take each pleasure, and enjoy it as it 
 comes." So we have, and few have ever had sweeter daily bless- 
 ings than thy child. When I wrote first to thee, the first excite- 
 ment of my new situation, with all its trembling hopes and fears 
 for untried days and scenes before me, had not passed away. 
 There were so many mingled emotions, I hardly knew how to
 
 CONTENTMENT. 8 1 
 
 speak or feel. All that excitement has gone, and I know how I 
 should and do feel now. 
 
 What about my little home, thee asks? I wish I could send thee 
 a picture of it; not that it is so pretty, but that thee could, by 
 mind's eye, now and then peep in and see us just as we are. It is 
 a Yankee cottage, with parlor, dining-room, kitchen, and little 
 chambers (sleeping rooms, I should say) all arranged on the first 
 floor. The front door opens into a short hall eight or ten feet 
 wide; by its side is my room, bed, etc. ; back of that is the parlor, 
 and a door from that opens into a little guest chamber. Still back 
 of these is a snug little dining-room and a kitchen. In the latter 
 is a pump of hard water, and a cistern with a pump of soft water, 
 with a door opening into the wood-house. So thee sees, though 
 it is a little house, it is very convenient. Oh, how I wish I could 
 see thee at our little table and by our fireside ! I have a good girl 
 young, but so willing and obliging. But what of the husband? 
 I can only say thee ought to see and know him. Thee must some 
 day know him and judge for thyse'lf. He is all that I could ask, 
 that thee, and all who love me, could desire. I felt this the first 
 evening in our own home, as we all bowed at the family altar, and 
 tried to dedicate ourselves and all that we are and have to Him 
 who has so blessed us with His favor. It is in his own family that 
 his true domestic character is seen and felt. 
 
 You may think, dear mother, I dwell too much on present joys 
 and comforts, living in a world of change, where man is born to 
 trouble, sorrow, and death. 
 
 But is not the future with God? And will He not prepare us for 
 all His will? For all that He sees necessary for us? I hope, I 
 trust in Him. 
 
 Affectionately thine 
 
 JEANETTE. 
 
 A LETTER WRITTEN TO HER SISTER, after the Birth of her first 
 Child, while Visiting her Sister Martha. 
 
 Sunday Afternoon, September 7, 1848. 
 MY DEAR SISTER : 
 
 I will begin a letter, but Doll seems to be saying, in the next 
 room, " it will not be finished very soon." Just look round Matt's 
 
 little dining-room. M has come in from a nap up-stairs, and 
 
 6
 
 82 BAPTISM FIRST CHILD. 
 
 is rocking herself, watching Master Jim and his pranks, and talking 
 to her girl, who sits near with the strange baby going to sleep in 
 her lap; that is, if Jimmy's running, driving, and boyish noise will 
 let her. Now he is on the floor with my little girl (nurse), trying 
 for the first time to play with his " builder's blocks," this rainy after- 
 noon. -M is talking baby to him as fast and bright as ever, and 
 
 looks very bright and happy, though she says her old wrapper and 
 uncombed hair are disorderly enough. . . . On Friday, just 
 after dinner, Miss Doll and I arrived with our wardrobe to stay till 
 Monday, husband's business unexpectedly calling him to Co- 
 lumbus for several days. It has been very pleasant, though so 
 strange, to be together again, and with our babies. Our husbands 
 being both absent, I was often reminded of our long baby-house 
 plays, with our dolls and cradles, years, years ago. Especially at 
 night, when Matt, with her boy-baby and crib, had one side of 
 the bed, and Jeanette and basket and baby the other. But, dear 
 sister, these are the light thoughts and fancies that float about these 
 new circumstances. There is deep reality felt, to begin life over 
 again in the life of a little immortal one, to feel all that you should 
 be, all that she must be, your influence linked to her for eternity, 
 these are thoughts that must turn the soul to its resting-place. 
 
 Last evening, about 8 o'clock, brother Canfield returned, 
 driving home husband's horse and buggy, leaving Nell to come 
 on Monday with Mr. Platt. I will leave her to tell you all the 
 Convention matters. Has she written to you of last Sunday and 
 the Bishop's visit? He came on Saturday evening, preached next 
 morning, baptized our little Ellen Hulme in the afternoon, and 
 
 preached and confirmed in the evening. E was anxious the 
 
 baptism should not be postponed, as she wished brother C to 
 
 stand sponsor with mother Lamb and herself. So she arranged 
 matters, and we % rode to church, and returned not much fatigued. 
 Felt as if I must be present in the evening, and went, leaving baby 
 with nurse. My first absence (three hours), and baby not quite 
 five weeks' old ! I have so very much to be thankful for ! My 
 whole sickness seemed a sweet season of new experiences of God's 
 mercies. Why /so favored, so comforted on every side? so 
 undeserving. Oh, my dear sister, whatever the untried future may 
 show me of life's cares and struggles, I must always look back to 
 these past few months as containing for me greater happiness,
 
 COLUMBUS A HAPPY FAMILY. 83 
 
 sweeter joys, than my words can tell. I do not believe that two 
 of Adam's children, with all their sins and infirmities, ever were 
 happier in each other than your sister and her stranger husband 
 have been. 
 
 1849, January 10. TO HER HUSBAND'S MOTHER, at Columbus, 
 on the Birth of F. S. 
 
 . . . As I am the aunty, on the girl side, I write at once 
 to offer heart and hand to my new niece. I bespeak her, for N.'s 
 special friend and confidante : she must depend upon this younger 
 daughter for help in romps and games, etc. 
 
 I cannot be very sorry with those who regret that the " son is a 
 girl." A woman is one of the best gifts that can be given to this 
 world of suffering, though many unworthily bear the name ; so 
 give plenty of welcome to this little girl on our behalf. 
 
 From a Letter to MRS. GANFIELD, written while on a Visit to Columbus. 
 
 
 
 COLUMBUS, November 6, 1849. 
 MY DEAR SISTER : 
 
 I am in sister Fanny's* pleasant quiet chamber, which you, I 
 think, introduced to us before we came to Ohio. Every visit that 
 I make I think she and her whole household the happiest little 
 community. F. is certainly one of the loveliest women I have 
 ever known. 
 
 I remained at home a week after brother C left, expecting 
 
 a visit from niece Helen G. She did not come. E. and I, with the 
 nurse, were packed by husband in the stage for Columbus. He 
 was unable to bring us in the private carriage. 
 
 The weather is the pleasantest I ever knew this season of the 
 year warm sunshine, with autumn's hazy veil, that dimly softens 
 every pretty scene. We have ridden out nearly every day, and 
 " done up" a great.deal of visiting for me. Fanny is such a gen- 
 eral favorite that her friends share in the universal good-will given 
 her 
 
 Last Saturday afternoon we all went to Mr. J. W. A 's to 
 
 * The wife of W. A. P., formerly Fanny A. Hayes, of Delaware, Ohio.
 
 84 COLUMBUS A DISCIPLINED HEART. 
 
 tea, one of the pleasantest, most refined, and intelligent families 
 I have ever been in. In the evening I was with E. (would not 
 send her home, nurse not knowing the way) in the study up-stairs, 
 
 where Mrs. A joined us, saying, "Who do you think is down 
 
 stairs?" Of course I guessed the one I most wished to see. "Yes," 
 she said, and hurried down to send him up. 
 
 Ellie was delighted, and it was all so pleasant. He had, though 
 tired with the week's hard business, ridden down in beau fashion 
 to see his little wife and baby. He went home early yesterday; 
 will come for us the last of this or early next week. 
 
 TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 November 9, 1849. 
 
 . What a truly American family the K.'s are ! the 
 mother a fine specimen of an American gentlewoman, yet knowing 
 how to do and doing all kinds of household work, such as cheese 
 and butter-making, etc. Accordingly, the daughters are thor- 
 oughly indoctrinated in all kinds of kitchen and household duties, 
 an admirable plan for any, especially for a Western family, where 
 "help" is such an uncertain commodity. > 
 
 Tuesday evening we were invited to a tea-party at Mrs. G 's. 
 
 [Here follows a description of the party.] Was much pleased with 
 Miss Lizzie B. A few young ladies came after tea, making our 
 number about thirty. Thursday evening we were invited to a 
 charade party at Mr. H.'s. I will describe this when I get home. 
 Mr. Tyng (Dudley) came and took tea with us that evening. He 
 never appeared to so much advantage before, I thought. I went 
 to see Mrs. Tyng yesterday ; was much pleased with her. 
 
 And now does dear husband think wife has been so very, very 
 happy in the midst of all this round of visiting that her quiet little 
 Delaware home is often out of mind ? Oh, no ; he knows better 
 the heart that is all, all his own. It was not a joyous, girlish heart, 
 that was given him, that could be dazzled by the seeming pleasures 
 of such scenes ; but a heart that had long been disciplined by life's 
 dull cares and heavy sorrows (by the grace of God, I trust, not all 
 in vain). She gave herself to him, that in him she might find all 
 that she gave; in seeking to make him happy, day by day; the 
 full, deep happiness her own heart sought. She has proved her
 
 HOME COMFORTS. 85 
 
 trust, and knows the pure, deep affection, and her own true source 
 of earthly happiness. Oh, that she could ever remember "the Giver 
 of every good and perfect gift!" that her heart had some return 
 of gratitude ! Oh, 'tis but an ungrateful, selfish heart that is all 
 your own, dear husband. 
 
 Thy own 
 
 JENNIE: 
 
 Rev. Mr. Canfield resigned the rectorship of St. Peter's Church, 
 Delaware, in November, 1849. ar >d removed, with his family, to 
 Philadelphia, and afterwards to New York. 
 
 TO E. H. CANFIELD. 
 
 DELAWARE [O.], December 4, 1849. 
 MY DEAR BROTHER: 
 
 . . . . I am now as well and bright as I was sick and cross 
 the weeks you were with us. Must not my health be sound, and 
 my temper pleasant? I had the hard part to bear, however brother 
 and husband may have suffered. That was a bad, bad cold, and 
 I felt miserably enough. Our dining-room is so warm and pleasant 
 from the drum, E. and I have moved in the little settee and rock- 
 ing-chairs, and pass most of our time here. Wish you could see 
 how cheerful and sunny it is, and how happy and playful is E., and 
 pleased and pleasant is her mother, and better and nicer than any- 
 body is her father. Just now it is a pleasant time at "our house." 
 
 From a Letter to MRS. REBECCA HARRISON, written the day before the 
 birth of her second child. 
 
 DELAWARE, Sunday morning, May 12, 1850. 
 
 The sweet tones of our church bell are wafted over the blossomed 
 trees, and bright green dooryards, with their bursting buds and 
 flowers just opening into spring; and the little birds are nestling 
 about, trying their first May-day songs. All nature seems so bright 
 and beautiful to the outward eye, as I sit in my quiet chamber, 
 reminding of that eternal Sabbath of rest, when from all nations 
 and people shall be gathered the Redeemed of the Lord, and all 
 shall together sit. down to "the marriage supper of the Lamb."
 
 86 A SNUG LITTLE DINNER. 
 
 Shall not we be there, beloved one, mother still, ever, in all the 
 kind affections of thy absent relative's heart? My beloved husband 
 has just left me for church, and little daughter has been sent away, 
 that some moments of this quiet hour may be passed with thee. 
 How seldom we by outward means 'converse with each other ! 
 How very long it is since I have heard one word from thee ! Yet 
 I know how often thy affectionate thoughts have crossed these 
 mountains, and rested on me, my husband, and my child. I 
 know, without a doubt, that everything concerning me is dear in 
 
 interest to thee I feel this morning that I am giving 
 
 almost my last time to thee, and yet the "dread and fear" come 
 not with the thought. I seem content to lie in my Heavenly 
 Father's hands, believing all will be well for me, my husband, and 
 
 my child 
 
 Through my Saviour's blood that alone can cover my guilt, and 
 His prevailing righteousness that alone can find me acceptance 
 with God, I trust all will be eternally well with me, whatever may 
 be my Heavenly Father's will. "The blood of Jesus Christ 
 cleanseth from all sin." 
 
 With sincere affection, 
 
 Thy JEANETTE. 
 
 To HER HUSBAND, while he was at Dayton attending the Episcopal 
 Convention. 
 
 Ii P. M., Tuesday, September 24, 1850. 
 
 . The idea that Mr. French can so nicely take a line 
 has just dawned upon my mind. I do not think I shall like keep- 
 ing house without my husband at all William and 
 
 Fanny came at the appointed hour one o'clock. It was one of 
 the brightest, nicest little visits ever had from them only you were 
 not here. W. seemed to regret this much. He drove down to the 
 hotel, leaving his horses and carriage, and returned bringing Mr. 
 Burchard, who happened here on his way to Columbus. He had 
 dined, but sat down with us. A snug little dinner husband's 
 ham and grapes much praised. H. was napping up stairs when 
 Fanny came, did not wake and make his appearance till during 
 dinner; was praised enough to satisfy even me "a noble, lovely 
 boy." But your darling N. was a great object of attraction, "so
 
 THE HAPPIEST WOMAN. 87 
 
 changed, so pretty," "so picture-like, with her little curly head." 
 She took at once to her pretty aunty, and her pretty little baby, 
 and loved "the baby, baby," almost as she does her little brother; 
 sat on Fanny's lap to look at pictures, etc. F.'s baby is one of 
 the brightest little ones for two months I have ever seen a lovely 
 little bud of her pretty mother. 
 
 DELAWARE, September 26, 1850. 
 
 MY OWN DEAR HUSBAND 
 
 i 
 
 Will not complain that he gets letters too often, even if they are 
 not worth much 
 
 N. was tired and sleepy on my lap, when her little brother cried 
 to come, too. We could not make him comfortable with her there. 
 She could not bear to go ; when I told her how it was she slipped 
 down of her own accord, looking so lovely and happy in this her 
 first effort to give up her own comfort for another's good. I have 
 never distinctly seen before the yielding of her selfish nature as 
 was plain there. Oh, that our prayers may daily follow her infant 
 steps, and hallow all the life she is with us! that a heavenly prin- 
 ciple may be even now given her in her first days ! Here, dear 
 husband, is our only strength. When I think of the fountain of 
 wisdom and strength that is ever open to us, for us to draw from, 
 I feel sure that even our children may be brought up, in all things, 
 " in the way they should go." Our very weakness and ignorance 
 in ourselves may be thus our strength in the Lord. 
 
 "The boy," too, is so lovely all the daylong. With such a 
 husband, and such children, surely, surely I should be the happiest 
 woman ! Am not I ? Who is happier? 
 
 TO MRS. CANFIELD. 
 
 [DELAWARE], Sunday Morning, December 22, 1850. 
 
 I have laid down "the little book" and its companion, and 
 have been sitting here in our quiet little parlor, wondering if I 
 should do wrong to write to you to-day, my own precious sister ! 
 " Sweet counsel" we have taken together in years past, talking 
 away many an hour of holy time, and enjoying communion of heart 
 and mind, thought and feeling, as few sisters have done, I think.
 
 88 TURNING A CROOK. 
 
 May we not do so now, though rivers and mountains are between ? 
 We are not separated, only cannot seem to see face to face, that is 
 all. Blessed thought, we can never be separated ! We dwell in 
 the same Father's house, are daily fed and sustained by the same 
 Heavenly hand ; and soon, through the riches of His grace, "equal 
 to the angels," shall dwell together forever and ever 
 
 This is the busiest portion of life I have ever seen. We are turn- 
 ing a little crook, dear husband and I, just now. No doubt better 
 times are beyond, but they are not to be seen as yet. . . . I cannot 
 say that I desire to remove East, for I dare not take the responsi- 
 bility of deciding where it is best for me and my children to dwell. 
 I only pray that we may ever clearly see and follow, as did Israel 
 of old, heavenly counsel; journeying and resting, just as the cloud 
 of God's presence covers us and goes before us (Num. 9). "If we 
 should ever remove to any place, and so clearly see by the com- 
 forts that come upon us that we are right, as may brother C 
 
 and Mattie now," said 1 to Mr. P., when reading your letters; but 
 the words died from my lips, as I remembered that "the sorrow 
 of your life" had met you just there. 
 
 My health is very good I take all the out-door 
 
 exercise I can, though it is but little. He who lays upon us our 
 burdens, fits us for them. 1 should never have thought that I could 
 bear the care and confinement as I have done this winter, indeed 
 
 this whole year, I may say Do not grieve over any- ' 
 
 thing said, knowing the hand that has guided my path only 
 measures out just what we need in infinite love
 
 VISIT TO NEW YORK. 89 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " My presence shall go with thee and I will give thee rest." 
 
 Trip to New York Spends the summer in New York, Philadelphia, and New 
 Jersey Lines fallen in pleasant places Heaven is our home Cannot love each 
 other too much, but must love God supremely. May to September, 1851. 
 
 MAY ayth Mrs. Platt went to New York, in company with Mrs. 
 Judge Williams, taking the two children, E. and H. (three years 
 and one year old), to visit her sister, Mrs. Canfield. Mr. Canfield 
 was then rector of St. Peter's Church, New York. 
 
 FROM HER FIRST LETTER TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 NEW YORK, May 29, 1851. 
 
 Mrs. Williams, I believe, telegraphed to Delaware this morning, 
 so you already have learned of our safe arrival yesterday at 3^ 
 o'clock, instead of early in the morning, as you and we expected. 
 " The Empire" lake boat lost time in giving us a safe trip, through 
 rain and fog, Monday night; so that made us later than usual in 
 reaching Albany. [Here they were detained and had to take a 
 slow boat to New York. The H. R. R. R. was not then built.] 
 
 We drove to Judkin's Hotel, Mrs. Williams sent for Henry B., 
 a carriage was engaged for me, and soon we were driving past the 
 church and parsonage. I knew the church and saw Canfield on 
 the door-plate, so stopped the driver, at the same instant saw E. 
 running down the steps and Martha sitting at the chamber win- 
 dow, having been wild in exclamations that "our poor Jeanette 
 was riding by! stop her! stop her!" I will pass over, dear hus- 
 band, the meeting, the kissing, and all the baby greetings. In all, 
 in everything, how much, how very much, I missed your presence. 
 Mrs. Williams told me plainly I should not say anything of this
 
 90 NEW YORK JENNY LIND. 
 
 to the Canfields, when they would be so rejoiced to see me; so I 
 tried to be good and forget I had "a gude man" far, far away. 
 
 The house is so nice everything is comfortable, brother C. and 
 M. so very kind, Martha full of consideration, as she always was; 
 had a nurse engaged and already in the house, whose work she 
 made it to take the entire charge of me and my children, wash, 
 iron, and keep my room in order. Brother C. said I should have 
 all comfort and freedom in my visit that it was no more than dutv 
 to try to pay back old debts for the baby trottings I had given 
 Master James, etc. etc. So I found there was no use to object to 
 their increased expenses. 
 
 Aunt Peggy is here talks of going home soon. How happy 
 we all are to be thus together I cannot tell. M. says, " tell brother 
 P. I am so much obliged to him for sending Jeanette and babies 
 here." Brother C. went out yesterday morning and purchased 
 tickets to a Jenny Lind concert of sacred music, and took us all to 
 Castle Garden in the afternoon. This is why I did not get my 
 letter off in the first mail after my arrival. You will excuse, I 
 know, for hearing Jenny sing instead of your hearing Jeannie talk, 
 though I hope you will always like the talker best. 
 
 Now, as to the journey how the children behaved, etc. They 
 were as good as children could be under the circumstances. The 
 night we were in the cars will not soon be forgotten. I was so 
 anxious lest H. should have an attack of croup. It rained in tor- 
 rents ; the heat and impure air was stifling insi.de, yet the rain and 
 damps, poured in too much if the least crack was open. But all 
 was "well." E. slept all the time did not even wake up when 
 carried at midnight nearly a square in the rain "changing cars." 
 H., too, was just himself, so good and attractive to every one; and 
 your wife, "if I must say it," won praise all around. I began to 
 think other folks thought she was a "good mother," whatever kind 
 of wife she might be. 
 
 I must tell you: when we were sitting in the cars in the dark 
 depot at Albany, waiting for Mr. W. to come and get us out, in 
 the crowd of passengers that streamed by us, stopped a handsomely 
 dressed old gentleman from one of the front cars, where we had 
 been part 'of the night; "Madam," he said, without turning his 
 face towards us, but stopping at the end of our seat, " I must give 
 commendation." (Speaking slowly and distinctly), "Of all the
 
 A LOVING MOTHER. 9! 
 
 ladies I have ever seen travel with children you excel!" and on 
 he went, before I had time to recover in the least from my surprise. 
 We had never noticed him, and I scarcely know what he meant, 
 unless he thought I was very patient when trying for so long a time 
 to get the babies to sleep. They were worn out with the day's 
 railroad jarring, and would not compose to sleep. I made a bed 
 on two seats facing each other, and sat for hours, indeed all night, 
 on the floor between them, patting first this, and then that one, as 
 they stirred. But I was much too anxious not to feel patient and 
 forgetful of self. There was no sacrifice of feeling at all; I was 
 all the time trying to rest my care upon the Almighty arm beneath 
 us. I was, dear husband, greatly indebted to you for the helps of 
 that night. I took your pennies, as Ellie calls them, and paid for 
 a good supper at Syracuse, when many went without any. I knew 
 I must eat if I would be able to worry with my babies all night, 
 and that you would say this, whatever the cost might be. 
 
 [This was before the comfort of sleeping cars was known.] 
 
 Thursday Evening, June 5, 1851. 
 MY OWN DEAR HUSBAN-D : 
 
 It is, indeed, "cheering news" to say "we have a letter!" 
 Yours came this afternoon, so full of comfort, kindness, and every 
 good thing for your wife. Oh, I do always feel as if I were so 
 much too poor a wife for you to have. May our separation be 
 indeed blessed and sanctified to our souls' health ! Pray for me, 
 that my heart may be kept in "peace" and "quietness" in the 
 midst of the excitement of city life. Pray for me. God bless and 
 keep our beloved children ! I will try to watch over them, feeling 
 that I am to be both father and mother 
 
 It is hard to be from your side, dear love, who are more than 
 all others to me ; but I am not unhappy. It is so very pleasant 
 to be again one of this old sisterhood, and have around me the 
 voices, and see the faces that have looked upon me since my in- 
 fancy. Being married has sobered, more than dampened, the joy 
 
 of being together 
 
 Your not "half good enough" wife, 
 
 JENNIE.
 
 92 REV. DR. TYNG. 
 
 Tuesday Morning. 
 
 . . . . While we are all blessed with perfect health, our 
 separation from each other must not be a subject of complaint, 
 should it, dear husband? Every lot has its "crooks," every 
 family has its troubles, every condition in life its difficulties. Com- 
 pared with all I see and know of others, I must say, "The lines 
 have fallen to us in pleasant places !" Our losses in earthly wealth 
 have never in the least diminished our happiness ; so that, though 
 poor, yet have we been very rich ! Oh, that we could more simply, 
 more singly in all our steps, " seek first the kingdom of God and 
 His righteousness." Then God's blessing, " which maketh rich, 
 and He addeth no sorrow with it," would follow us all our life, 
 and bring us all at last safely to our eternal, heavenly home! Let 
 us, then, try to pray one for the other. Would that I was to you 
 all that I ought to be, my own chosen husband ! All that I should 
 be ! I who have been learning so many, many years, under the 
 Heavenly Teacher. Yet what know I? What am I but a monu- 
 ment of the forbearance and goodness of " the Covenant God." 
 
 NEW YORK, June 16, 1851. 
 
 Sister, brother, and I walked over to Dr. Tyng's church. How 
 I want you to go there and hear and see him. Your wife owes 
 much to him ; more instruction than from any other human teacher. 
 His sermon was to the young, and my mind was carried back to 
 years ago, when an uninstructed, light-hearted girl sat before him, 
 receiving (through Divine influence, I trust) with such eagerness 
 the blessed truths of "the glorious Gospel" which he taught. I 
 had not heard him before yesterday for many years. He was just 
 the same, surrounded by one of the most fashionable congregations, 
 and with crowds around him of attentive listeners, as when he was 
 minister of the little flock of Epiphany (Philadelphia), with only 
 twelve communicants. I met him at the door of the vestry-room, 
 and he was very glad to see me. He and every one exclaims, 
 " How well you look; not a day older." So much for the good 
 care taken of your wee wife. He said he would come out and take 
 tea with us Monday evening. 
 
 J. H. P.
 
 A LESSON FULLY LEARNED. 93 
 
 NEW YORK, Friday Morning, June 27, 1851. 
 MY DEAR HUSBAND : 
 
 I feel so very sorry there has been so much delay in my letters, 
 that you have so often to look in vain for them. I trust this will 
 not be again. Yours, mailed June 2jd, came yesterday. I cannot 
 tell how your letters are received, or what your wife thinks of 
 them, their value to her. If you knew all this I am sure you 
 would be fully repaid for sending tlem. She always cries over 
 them, I will tell you that. You ask me, dear love, to tell you all 
 my heart, " all I think" from day to day. It would be such a poor 
 story of one thing over and over: "I miss you, I miss you so 
 much." This is one reason I have written so seldom, and my let- 
 ters have been so lifeless and dull. I have not written all my 
 heart. You were giving up so much home comfort in sparing so 
 long away from you your little ones and wife, that I could not 
 bear to have you know how little of happiness it was procuring for 
 her. And yet you always said this would be so, did you not? 
 'Tis just so, dear husband. I am not, cannot be, happy away from 
 your arms, my own rightful place and home. I cannot. I do try. 
 For your sake, because of your sacrifice, I have tried. 
 
 Now, dear love, do not regret this experiment, as paying out so 
 much for nothing. It is not so. Perhaps none of us would ever 
 have been entirely satisfied if this trial had not been made. It 
 will never have to be repeated. The lesson is fully learned, "Whom 
 God hath joined together let no man put asunder." For my own 
 pleasure, or for the pleasure of others, separation from you will 
 not be asked again. I do not say this to my sisters (I did not wish 
 to say it to you). I want to be just as happy as I can, for they are 
 very kind ; but I know they all guess this, though they cannot 
 know how half-hearted I feel, or how little I enjoy anything I see. 
 . . . . I would rather be with the children, hear our N. 
 prattle, and H. laugh and crow, than see all the sights New York 
 can produce. 
 
 H. has two teeth ! tell grandma. You would be quite satisfied 
 with the admiration he excites, "the noble boy," and the notice 
 Miss N. gets, " the curly-headed wee girl." They seem quite well 
 now, but the heat is getting so great that I am anxious to leave 
 soon. Sister went back to Brookfield yesterday 
 
 Bishop Burgess and Dr. Dyer dined with us yesterday.
 
 94 BURLINGTON DEAR FRIENDS. 
 
 BURLINGTON, N. J., July 7, 1851. 
 
 On Saturday morning last we left New York in the 8 o'clock 
 Amboy cars, and arrived here at noon 
 
 Well, here we are in old Burlington. Oh, how I wished for you ; 
 how I do wish for you, your voice, your heart, your arms, dear 
 love ! Here, amid these old scenes, where your wife romped and 
 played in childish days, and walked, and talked, and lived her 
 girlhood hours. I want the quiet smile, the gentle ways, the loving 
 heart, of my choice. How great would be the pleasure if you were 
 only with me ! It is so pleasant to visit again these old scenes. 
 
 HULMEVILLE, July 13, 1851. 
 
 " I stood up on both feet, and climbed on top of the stool, dear 
 papa," H. would like to say to you, dear husband. This was done 
 to-day, just as I was telling cousin R. that, though he could be 
 stood in a corner, and stand alone, yet he never attempted to use 
 his feet before 
 
 My visit to Mount Holly proved a very pleasant one. They all 
 so much want to know my husband. I have promised them at 
 least a call from him, with his wife. The Burlington visit was so 
 delightful ! everybody so glad to see me. Thee must know these 
 kind and dear relatives. Indeed, dear husband, do let me have 
 some time of thine for thee to see and know my friends, when thee 
 comes. When will that be? How I long to be once more in my 
 old place ! The time seems very long since I left, though it is 
 now passing very happily. 
 
 Sunday Morning. 
 
 . . . . How has passed this Sabbath with you, dear hus- 
 band ? I feel as if in spirit we have been much together. Oh, 
 how blessed is the thought that we are " one" in the faith of the 
 Gospel; that we are one for eternity; that heaven is our home, our 
 eternal home; that our union here is but to help prepare and bring 
 us to that home ! God grant us His grace ! His help be with us 
 through all our earthly days, and safely bring us and ours to 
 heaven at last !
 
 BROOKFIELD NOT A DAY OLDER. 95 
 
 BROOKFIELD, July 23, 1851. 
 
 I have just been sitting in the very parlor in the same spot 
 where we sat side by side four years ago ! with hearts full of hopes 
 and fears, the future all untried, our mutual love all untested, and 
 many tender mercies of our Covenant God all unknown. We 
 were strangers to each other then, dear love, compared with now. 
 What rich blessings were before us 1 How freely have they been 
 measured out to us in our love for each other, and in the gift and 
 enjoyment of our dear children ! God has blessed us ! I will say, 
 we have been, are rich. Happiness is wealth so great, so rare, that 
 few possess it. It is ours. Oh, that "the blessing of the Lord" 
 might, as it is designed, "lead us to repentance." 
 
 I have finished my journey home, and now we are "over the 
 mountains," E. says, "all at Aunt Sarah's house." Both children 
 seem half wild with delight to get where there is so much room. 
 H. creeps around our large room, and Nell races around the 
 house flits about among the trees "like a wee fairy," they say. 
 From the first night she has taken a great fancy to Aunt Sarah. 
 
 On Monday we left Hulmeville with John, and drove to Capt. 
 Hutchinson's beautiful home near Bristol; here we stayed Monday 
 night. Early Tuesday morning John, N., and I went in boat to 
 Trenton, dined with my old schoolmate, Hannah B., and was met 
 by Mr. H. (our host) in the carriage on Bristol wharf at 4.30 P. M. 
 This morning we all came to Philadelphia, dined with Mrs. Char- 
 lotte C., and came up in the 3 o'clock cars, and arrived in this old 
 home once more at 5 o'clock. Charlotte was delighted to see us. 
 
 I begin to think, dear husband* that you have a right good- 
 looking wife; she must be so, from all I hear about her. " Why, 
 Jeanette," Lottie exclaimed, "not a day older, I declare! a bit 
 younger, if anything; age twenty, I should think! I need not ask 
 you if you have been happy in your distant home, away from all 
 your family; your face answers that question fully. And what 
 kind of a husband you have, too." 
 
 Friday morning. Here, dear husband, where you slept, in the 
 guest-chamber of your love-dreams, sits your wife Jennie. The 
 morning is charming. We had a restless night with H., but a ride 
 this morning has cured, almost, the boy, and refreshed greatly the 
 mother. Her heart cannot be fully cheered until its mate, its better
 
 96 TRUE CONJUGAL AFFECTION. 
 
 part, shall come. I feel now that the time is near, is it not, dear 
 husband? We do all so long to see you; not that I want to shorten 
 my visit my friends will not consent to that but cannot you make 
 arrangements to stop all work and recruit awhile? Do try and 
 spare us a good long visit 
 
 I feel as if we must talk together this quiet Sabbath morning. 
 Your letter came to my hand yesterday, dearest. Call it what 
 name you may, it is very precious to your wife, each and every 
 part the "cross" and all other "moods" of its writer, only feel- 
 ingly, thoughtfully showing the devoted love of his heart. You 
 shall not speak lightly of, or scold, these letters. They are mine, 
 are from my husband, who is perfectly understood as he is dearly 
 loved 
 
 H.'s heart will never forget his father, even if his tongue cannot 
 remember his name. It will take but a moment to recall him, I am 
 sure. Mary says he still calls "papa, papa," often 
 
 I try not to anticipate our meeting. This separation is so long, 
 it is so hard to be apart from thee and thy tender, loving heart, my 
 own dear husband. I fear we shall both look forward expecting 
 too much in our longed-for reunion. We cannot love each other 
 too much; I know this. The Bible everywhere sanctions deepest, 
 devoted conjugal affection, comparing such love to that with which 
 "Christ loved the Church" dying for it. But we must love our 
 God supremely, love each other in Him as His, seeking His glory 
 in and through our love. We must never expect too much of 
 earthly happiness. It is here I fear we shall err in our expected 
 meeting. This is never promised the children of God; but they 
 are constantly told of sorrow, disappointments, "tribulations," that 
 shall follow their steps. They must be disturbed and thwarted in 
 every dream and scheme of earthly enjoyment, or else they would 
 never turn with longing eyes to "that better country" they profess 
 to seek. Oh, let us ever remember this. We have all been merci- 
 fully spared in health so far, but the future is only with God, hid 
 from us. In what sorrow might be our meeting! How sweet 
 is dear brother's oft-repeated petition, "Choose for us all our 
 changes." May this be the prayer of our hearts; then shall we 
 be prepared alike for joy or woe. Does this all seem strange to 
 you, dear love? Life has taught me this. I want to try to live 
 day by day, and hour by hour. I have long tried to do this.
 
 A WHOLE WOMAN. 97 
 
 And how many mercies have followed me ! How bright and happy 
 has been my daily path since cheered by your fond love, my dear- 
 est, earthly gift ! 
 
 [Mrs. B., one of the ladies who has rendered, valuable assistance in this work, 
 says of this letter: " I think this is one of the loveliest letters I have ever read."] 
 
 TO MRS. J. MURRAY. 
 
 BROOKFIELD, July 29, 1851. 
 
 I wonder if I shall be believed when I say the quiet speaking, 
 friendly face of one I do love, has flitted before me so very often 
 since I left my Western home. I believe I have compared her with 
 every nice body I have met, and she has not suffered one bit. I think 
 she is the most whole woman among them all. You may think me 
 a poor judge, and so we may not agree. But I shall not yield my 
 opinion even to you. 
 
 Now, after truthfully telling the above, I need not say I have 
 wished often to find a moment to write to you. The moment would 
 not come until we were settled in the house, closets, and drawers 
 of our family home. Is this home, think you? You know well it 
 is only a pleasant resting place for the body. I am less than half 
 here. I cannot help it, cannot help being only half happy when 
 everybody is doing their best to make me altogether so. 
 
 It is delightful, more pleasant than I can tell, much more than I 
 expected, to get back again, and have these dear old family faces 
 around me. I tell them so, not adding what my heart will always 
 say, "If we were only all here." 
 
 How I wish you were here, the country is so beautiful. When 
 will your visiting time come? Come it will, I know. Your whole 
 life is not to be one sowing for others' good without any reaping 
 time for yourself. See if a good time is not coming when you 
 shall be as rich as wise. How? Oh, I cannot tell how. It is 
 only for me to tell I feel it must be so. I mean rich in \\\&poor but 
 convenient kind of riches. You are rich now in the best of riches, 
 I hope. Wealth is not happiness, but is not happiness wealth ? 
 
 When any one asks concerning my Western possessions, I tell 
 the old story, how happy I have been there. I have not seen two 
 people "better off" than Mr. P. and I. 
 7
 
 98 ROCK OF AGES. 
 
 " Do I not wish to live here?" I should like to be near these 
 early friends. In times of sickness who can take the place of fami- 
 liar faces and voices that have spoken about one from infancy ! 
 But so far we have been preserved from sickness, or any real afflic- 
 tion, while the " hand of God has been heavy" upon many of 
 these dear families who have "suffered as Christians." We shall 
 be comforted on every side, and helped in every time of need, if 
 our strength and hope are rightly placed on the " Rock of Ages," 
 live where we may. 
 
 How I wish you could hear the sweet songs these little home 
 birds are giving us. If seems as if the five years' practice had 
 truly made them perfect in the art of song. 
 
 Our old cook says, "Everything and everybody is glad to see 
 you." I tell you this that you may not be sorry for having given 
 yoilr help and kind wishes in getting Jeanette and her children off. 
 
 Very affectionately your friend, 
 
 J. H. P. 
 
 [She returned home with her husband from this visit in Sep- 
 tember, and wrote the following letter to her sister S. : ] 
 
 DELAWARE, September, 1851. 
 
 This is only to tell you we arrived safely on Tuesday afternoon. 
 The journey was extremely fatiguing to me. E. was so good and 
 patient, but H. was all unrest for "Mary! my Mary!" holding 
 up his little hands toward the window, begging to be taken out. 
 Poor baby, how he will miss his own Mary [nurse], and all the loving 
 faces that always smiled on him ! Not more than his mother. Oh, 
 my dear sister, I cannot tell you, you will never know here how 
 sweet will be the pleasure of remembering this visit. I dare not 
 speak. May all the unwearied kindnesses, the patience with my 
 careless, bad ways, the loving words given to the stranger babies, 
 all, all that you have done, and wished to do for me, be rewarded 
 fourfold into your own bosoms. We shall meet where these dread- 
 ful partings will never come. God grant it for Jesus' sake ! I 
 shall soon, I doubt not, feel myself again. I cannot write more 
 now. God bless you ! bless me ! Ever, ever remember in prayer 
 
 SISTER JEANETTE.
 
 FROM MRS. CANFIELD. 99 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Comforted together with you by the mutual faith both of you and me." 
 
 Letter from Mrs. Canfield describing a visit from Rev. S. C. Damon A valued 
 old friend The love of Christian friends A realization of the heavenly meeting 
 Mrs. Canfield to Rev. S. C. Damon A beautiful prayer Sunnyside Rev. 
 E. H. C. to Mrs. Platt Mrs. Platt to her sister A blessing. 1851 fo 1854. 
 
 FROM MRS. CANFIELD. 
 
 NEW YORK, December 12, 1851. 
 MY DEAREST SISTER: 
 
 I feel as if I could settle down to no quiet employment until I 
 have poured out my heart to you, who will more perfectly than 
 any one else understand me. This morning at nine o'clock I actu- 
 ally kissed good-bye to our old friend Mr. Damon ! Last night we 
 entertained him, his wife, and son Samuel under our roof; and the 
 last voice I heard out of my own room was his, sounding so fami- 
 liarly, and yet so strangely, in my house. That sleep was banished 
 you can well imagine. 
 
 A week since, on opening our door to say good-bye to a lady 
 visitor, my eyes fell on a gentleman just about to ring. I forgot 
 where I was, and who I was, when Samuel Damon unchanged in 
 person, voice, or manner; looking as if he had left us only yester- 
 day stood before me. My loud exclamations brought out Mr. 
 C. and Ellie, and there was a general confusion for a time Jem- 
 mie, for some curious reason, clinging round his neck, as if he had 
 been an old friend. He sat an hour with us; and what an hour it 
 was! Oh, how we wished for you! He talked of you constantly, 
 making all manner of inquiries about your appearance, home, hus- 
 band, children, everything. I don't think his interest in us has 
 lessened one jot by ten years' absence. Mrs. Damon says our 
 letters were opened more eagerly than those from his own sisters; 
 and all I have seen of him proves that he really, truly loved us, as 
 Christian friends may love
 
 100 THE HEAVENLY MEETING. 
 
 I went on Friday morning to see Mrs. Damon, 
 hoping they would return with me; but other friends took them 
 from us. He went on Saturday to Washington, stopping at Phila- 
 delphia and Burlington, visiting all his old friends there; and yes- 
 terday afternoon they came to us, and sailed to-day at 2 o'clock. 
 Ten years have left no trace on him. Mrs. Damon has grown 
 pretty, and I liked her very much. She is just the wife he needed. 
 The boy looks very much like him. They left their youngest son 
 of three years in Honolulu, fearing the effects of a change to a cold 
 climate. They like the Islands very much feel that it is home, 
 and would not return on any account to this country. They have 
 never had a day's sickness. The box he sent us, that was lost, 
 contained some very valuable things* coral, native bed-spread, etc. 
 
 Only think, they passed through New York when you were here; 
 but he was sick and did not know we were living here. The only 
 drawback to the pleasure of the visit was your absence. He told 
 me to say to you that it was the only plan he failed in executing in 
 all his life. He had determined to see you, and was disappointed 
 begged me to write to you at once, and send him your answer. 
 He remembered all your funny sayings and doings. Last evening 
 we went to lecture once more together ; not to the session room, 
 but to our church, to hear my husband preach. He was much 
 pleased with the lecture put his arms round me in the old queer 
 way, and told me so. Oh, it was all so natural, so queer, so excit- 
 ing! I scarcely dared to think or feel while they were here, and 
 after they were gone I just gave up, and went to bed for an hour 
 or two. Father, mother, brother, home, girlhood and its scenes, 
 the living and the dead, the past, present, and future, all seemed 
 to mingle in an overwhelming tide, and I almost sank beneath its 
 irresistible force. You, you will understand it; there needs no 
 lengthened explanation. If I could only have had you here! 
 
 To see them all at our table ! Was I not right to kiss him good- 
 bye? He turned, after passing the yard gate, to remind me again 
 to write to you and give you his love. When shall we meet again? 
 Probably no more on earth; but oh, there is one home for us all, 
 when our Master's work is done. This meeting made me realize 
 more than I had ever done, what the heavenly meeting will be, if 
 we are so blessed as to reach that blessed country.
 
 A PLEASANT DREAM. IOI 
 
 MRS. CANFIELD TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 NEW YORK, ST. PETER'S RECTORY, Feb. 7, 1852. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND: 
 
 Your brotherly epistle was most welcome. I wished to write you 
 immediately, and have talked of it again and again, but the many 
 engagements and interruptions of city life have prevented. In my 
 position duties press so upon one another that it is difficult to find 
 time for any claims but those arising from one's immediate family 
 and parish. My distant friends are as dear to my heart as ever, 
 but I seldom find time to tell them so. 
 
 You, I suppose, are safely "at the haven where you would be;" 
 and, I trust, found your little boy well. You did not say one word 
 in your epistle about little Samuel, from which we inferred that he 
 had entirely recovered from his indisposition. Jemmie still remem- 
 bers him and you, and says, "Mother, didn't I cling round his 
 neck?" 
 
 Pray, what do you think? The beautiful prayer in our liturgy 
 prescribed to be used for a family gone to sea, was offered in one 
 of the Episcopal churches in this city the Sunday after you left, for 
 you ! Now, don't let your Congregational scruples be shocked. 
 It was most sincerely offered by some, I know. 
 
 Your visit still seems like a dream to me a very pleasant one, 
 I assure you. From the pleasure it afforded me I seemed to catch 
 a glimpse of the happiness of the world above. For oh, if it be so 
 sweet to meet Christian friends here, in the midst of the painful 
 memories, changes, and conflict of this mortal life, what must it be 
 to sit down with them in the kingdom of our Lord, when death is 
 passed, our warfare ended, our tears forever wiped away, and a 
 cloudless eternity before us ! Jeanette, in a hurried letter, speaking 
 of your vjsit, says, "I cannot talk about it. How very, very pleas- 
 ant it must have been ! I should have been so much delighted to 
 see him. But we shall meet no more for only a hurried interview, 
 but for an eternal day." 
 
 I cannot help regretting still that you did not see her; but, per- 
 haps, it has been for the best. It is very pleasant to feel that we 
 are all laboring for the same Master, though at different posts and 
 in different ways, and are all looking forward to the same home.
 
 102 MRS. CANFIELD TO DR DAMON. 
 
 I am quite sure, if we are so blessed as to reach that home, we shall 
 know and love each other there 
 
 Your ideas with respect to the authorship of " Sunnyside" were 
 not correct. It was written by the daughter of Professor Stuart, 
 of Andover. It has created quite a sensation in our community. 
 I think it ends ajmost too well to be natural, the daughters are 
 married too well, in a worldly point of view. However, it is said 
 to be entirely true. 
 
 Thank you for your kind expressions of interest in my husband. 
 I do not think your estimate of him at all exaggerated. He is a 
 fearless, uncompromising preacher of the truth, *he simple, pure 
 Gospel of our Redeemer; and that, too, in a position where it has 
 been seldom thus proclaimed. I should not be at all surprised if 
 you were to " fall in love with him," for I know one who did it 
 before you. He has a great work to do, and is very busy, heart 
 and soul, in it. It is a work worthy, infinitely worthy of all man's 
 physical and mental energies. 
 
 I want to know how you found all at home ; how your congre- 
 gation has prospered during your long absence ; and what your 
 little boy thought of your return. 
 
 Tell Mrs. Damon, with my love, that I read the Thanksgiving 
 sermon with much interest, and was much pleased with it. I hope 
 she will- send me any other production from the same source that 
 may appear in print. I shall always be interested in seeing them. 
 
 . . . . E. sends her love to you all. Tell Sammie that 
 Jemmie is very busy pasting pictures into a blank book to make a 
 scrap-book. He reads very well now, and is beginning to write 
 in a copy-book. M. still screams at the sight of a gentleman, but 
 is beginning to like her own sex. I hope she may retain some- 
 thing of this aversion when she reaches girlhood It 
 
 is now four o'clock ; my good husband left immediately after 
 breakfast, and has not been home since, visiting the people, I sup- 
 pose. If he were here he would send a message, for he feels much 
 interested in my " friend Damon." Now do let us hear from you 
 soon, and, if I do not prove a good correspondent, do not set it 
 down to the want of inclination. Our wannest love to your good 
 wife.
 
 SISTERLY AFFECTION. 103 
 
 FROM REV. E. H. CANFIELD TO MRS. PLATT. 
 
 BROOKLYN, December 24, 1853. 
 MY DEAR SISTER : 
 
 I am down in our back parlor all alone, writing by gaslight, the 
 
 rest of the family still in bed ; the hour 6 o'clock But 
 
 I do not write to give you news, that others have done better than 
 I can, I write because I must. I have been thinking of the 
 Christmas seasons we were together in Delaware, while lying awake 
 this morning, and my heart has said more than once, "Oh, that you 
 were here now !" There is nothing of an earthly nature that your 
 sister Martha so much longs for as a sight of your face. Sometimes, 
 as we talk about you, she becomes intensely excited, and says she 
 shall fly, or do some unheard-of thing, if she and you are kept at 
 this distance any longer. She often says she would surrender all 
 her comforts here and go back to Delaware for the sake of being 
 where she could have an occasional talk with you. I have been 
 sympathizing strongly with this feeling this morning, and I write 
 merely for the purpose of saying so, and wishing you a truly happy 
 Christmas and New Year 
 
 The past year has been crowned with blessings to me 
 
 The lines have fallen to us in very pleasant places. If you were 
 where we could see you occasionally, we could ask nothing more. 
 Your absence creates a blank in Martha's heart which nothing can 
 fill. But I must stop. I learn that you have promised to come 
 East next spring, if we do not go West. This is some comfort. 
 
 TO MRS. CANFIELD FROM MRS. PLATT. 
 
 August, 1854. 
 
 . . . . This darling girl ! I believe I welcome each new 
 gift for immortality with more and more love., I believe this baby 
 is to be a blessing, a blessing to the world, if her life is long ; a 
 sanctified blessing to her parents, if early called home. 
 
 Wednesday morning. Last evening your very kind letter to Mr. 
 P. came. How sweet is this warm expression of sisterly love and 
 sympathy ! It is a blessing to have a sister ! Dear little M. shall 
 have this baby to call her sister cousin, tell her. I do not know 
 about the name. I think she will not look a bit like
 
 104 A HAPPY CIRCLE. 
 
 any of our family ; for that reason I care less about her being 
 
 Jeanette On Sunday eve I went out to tea with the 
 
 family; was carried by the most willing arms; since then have 
 walked, and joined them at every meal. Nurse takes baby. 
 Grandma is staying this week with us. I wish you could all of 
 you look in upon our happy circle. Has not your distant sister 
 been encompassed by prayers? Have not those prayers been 
 heard? Dear Christian sisters! 
 
 FROM A LETTER TO HER SISTER S., written in the autumn or early 
 
 winter of 1854. 
 
 Wednesday morning. 
 
 I wish, dear sister, you could peep into our cozy little nursery 
 this beautiful morning ! I have turned the "library" into a nurs- 
 ery. The sitting-room, or as the English would say "Living 
 room" with its great bay-window, was much too cold, though 
 the grate is so large. But this little nook of a room is just the 
 thing for winter. In one corner stands J.'s crib darling baby 
 I wish you could know her! But we have to give up this home. 
 It has been sold, and we must leave in April. Do not say a word 
 of sorrow or regret. I know of no family so blessed of God as 
 we; such perfect health and happiness. Having these, shall we 
 be troubled because we have not earthly possessions or a settled 
 home? Our "Inheritance" is above, I trust. 
 
 J. H. P.
 
 ILLNESS OF MRS. CANFIELD. 105 
 
 X. 
 
 " Very pleasant hast thou been unto me, thy love to me was wonderful." 
 
 Goes to New York Illness and death of her sister Martha Beautiful examples 
 of sisterly affection A privilege to see a Christian die. August, 1855. 
 
 IN the month of August, 1855, Mrs. Platt went to Brooklyn, 
 N. Y. , taking with her E., eight years old, and J., one year, to be 
 with her loving sister Martha during an illness, which proved to be 
 her last. She remained until after her death; the following letter 
 was written in her sister's room, where she was in constant attend- 
 ance upon her. 
 
 TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 August 9, 1855. 
 
 I dare not write about our beloved one to-night, and yet I must. 
 Oh, could you have seen her lovely welcome, and the happiness 
 my coming gave her! my precious sister. 
 
 We drove to a friend's house, where we were kindly cared for, 
 opposite the Rectory. John, poor John [her brother], is sitting 
 by me. She does not know he is here. They only let her see 
 me and sister E. She says, "I want quiet, no scenes, no excite- 
 ment; I do not want to see Jemmie [her own son, eight years old]. 
 I am glad Mattie is in Burlington, I do not need to see Dr. Tyng" 
 (he was all afternoon with brother C.); "he can tell me nothing 
 I do not know." 
 
 So the dear one lies wjth her hands peacefully spread, waiting 
 the Lord's will. Brother C. has been over since tea; one after 
 another we have talked together. God giving us strength, we have 
 prayed and resolved that the beloved one's will shall be carried 
 out! No word shall be said! no token shall be given! '"The 
 Angel of the Covenant," even our own Blessed Redeemer, her
 
 106 A GREAT PRIVILEGE. 
 
 God and our God, shall have her all in His own holy keeping. If it 
 is His will to carry her to His bosom, sparing her all earthly agony 
 of one parting, His will be done ! nay more, this is our will. She 
 must leave us, is passing down into "the valley" even now, on 
 her Saviour's arms, we all know. She may live thirty-six hours. 
 
 Dearest, I know your deep anxiety for me and the children. 
 Place yourself in brother C.'s place, and feel was there one to 
 whom you could turn as he did to me? "Oh, Jennie, Jennie, how 
 I have wanted you, you to speak to, to go to!" Oh, I am so 
 thankful, so grateful, to think I was helped here now! I did not 
 think of being any help, with my crying little ones, and wondered at 
 your prayer the morning I left: " May those who go, be a blessing 
 where they are called." 
 
 Friday [August 10], 12 o'clock. 
 
 Our precious one knows all. I have just left her. Calmly, 
 more calm than in health, she asks for each article of her own, and 
 names the loved one she wishes to have them. Oh, what a privi- 
 lege to see a Christian die! "Oh, Jinty darling," said she to 
 me (sending all away but our own two selves), and laying her 
 gentle hand on my face, "Oh, what you have been to me! This 
 face, the sunshine of my life." "Yes, and what you have been 
 to me, my guide and example always ; and now, oh what a bright 
 light at this dark moment for me to follow !" I replied, " I shall 
 soon follow you; you are. now my example. I will do as you do 
 now when I get in the 'dark valley;' for I shall never be able to 
 say more than you now do." " I want, I only want to do right 
 and feel right." 
 
 August 14, 1855. 
 
 I felt last night that I could not go away to sleep out of this house 
 after hearing th t e doctor's opinion, but dreaded that I must for the 
 
 children's sake. Brother C promised to come for me any 
 
 moment, if there was any change Yesterday she was 
 
 much distressed by her "poor mouth" and sore back. Her greatest 
 difficulty now is in her mouth and throat. Here it must end, I 
 suppose. She did not talk much yesterday, except about her poor 
 mouth ; now and then speaking of mother, and father, and brother.
 
 TRUST IN A PERFECT SAVIOUR. 107 
 
 It seemed to us that, unconsciously to herself, she was drawing 
 nigh to those who have "gone before." 
 
 I leaned over and slipped my hand under the nurse's, just as I 
 was going to bid her good night. She exclaimed, without seeing 
 me, "Ah, that's Jinty ! Come around, Jinty ! Have you heard 
 from home ? How is your husband ? Had the chills ? Is he with 
 his mother? Who takes care of him? How are H. and F. ? 
 Good-night." 
 
 This morning, when I first came in her room, with my white 
 wrapper and blue sack, she exclaimed, with an expression of de- 
 light, " Oh, Jinty, what a beautiful color ! You look like a genie, 
 or a fairy." Thus, even in death, the sister of her love and admi- 
 ration was the " delight of her eyes," as she said. 
 
 BROOKLYN, August 23, 1855. 
 
 I did not write yesterday. Our beloved sister has been gradually 
 failing since Sunday night ; still lingers with us, though on the 
 border of "the spirit land." She speaks of father, mother, James, 
 and this morning of "a beautiful little girl," as if already in view 
 of and communion with the "shining land beyond the flood." 
 Yesterday, at noon, there was for a short time a perfect return of 
 reason and mental vigor. She asked for her husband ; and, when 
 all had left the room but him and me, she asked, what was the 
 matter with her? was she very sick ? .was she dying? At once she 
 understood all, and, closing her eyes, she. added, "Well, I am a 
 poor, miserable, utterly worthless sinner; but I perfectly trust in 
 a perfect Saviour. His blood, His righteousness, on these I 
 trust ; and I am not afraid to enter the grave and gate of death. 
 
 " ' I rest my soul on Jesus, 
 The spotless Lamb of God.' 
 
 I know He will never leave me." 
 
 Then, when alone with me, she again requested that I would 
 be a sister to her husband,. and see by every means that her dear 
 children were trained up for the Lord ; ever having kept before 
 them the meeting of their mother in heaven. She thus was per- 
 mitted to comfort us, and left for our help her dying testimony of 
 the power and grace of that Saviour whom she has followed since 
 her eleventh year.
 
 I08 A PEACEFUL DEATH. 
 
 August 24, 1855. 
 
 I finish the letter brother C. sent to you yesterday before it was 
 closed. Our beloved one entered into "rest" at 6 o'clock yester- 
 day evening. Peacefully as an infant falls to sleep in its mother's 
 arms, so our sister passed away on " the Everlasting Arms." The 
 funeral will take place this afternoon in the church. Dr. Tyng 
 (according to her request) performing that portion of the service 
 belonging to the Church, and Dr. Cutler will accompany brother 
 
 C to Burlington to-morrow morning, and finish the service at 
 
 the churchyard of St. Mary's, where sleep our other precious ones. 
 I shall not go to Burlington ; my only desire is for the quiet of my 
 own home. 
 
 August 25, 1855. 
 
 . I want to get home ; I am very sad and lonely. Through 
 all this great trial I have turned in vain to see one familiar face that 
 cared for me. Tell Mrs. Murray how I longed for her quiet, sym- 
 pathizing look ! Many kind friends ministered to our dear one, 
 and stood by us through these long, distressing days; But I felt as 
 if to the parish I was "only Mrs. Canfield's poor little sister from 
 Ohio." I have felt such loneliness as I never knew before. But 
 for these children, what comforts they have been ! Nettie has 
 two teeth lower ones ; has improved every day since we came ; 
 has enjoyed so much being Carried up and down the cool streets 
 in her nurse's arms. She has felt none of the gloom and sadness 
 that poor E. has seen, though I have tried by every means in my 
 power to keep her out of the circle of its influence. Ellie looks 
 badly, and has not been well these few past days. It would have 
 been an unspeakable comfort to me if we could have been to- 
 gether, and I know of no one who could better comfort brother 
 
 C by sympathy than yourself. But this was denied. I hope 
 
 you will write to him a full, private letter of your sympathy and 
 prayers in his great bereavement. He wanders about, hardly 
 knowing what he is doing. I cannot get him to sleep of nights. I 
 have been with him parts of every night, and tried in every way to 
 soothe and comfort. God will comfort him, I know ; and days of 
 brightness, I hope, will again come over his path. But never more 
 can such sister's love be given back to me. The only eye that
 
 NO COMMON LOVE. 1 09 
 
 from infancy my faults had no power to dim, the only heart that 
 has loved as if no imperfection could be mine ! Dearest, it is not 
 that I do not value the deep, true lovfe that God has given to me 
 in you, or that I am not grateful for the happy days that have been 
 found at your side. But this was no common sister ; the love she 
 gave to me was no common love. I feel, oh how I feel her loss ! 
 Think of all the many, many years that our thoughts and feelings 
 blended, and the current of our lives was as one ! Think what she 
 has, what she has not been to me ! Since her eleventh year my ex- 
 ample and guide, the counsellor and comforter of all my youth ! 
 In my faithlessness I have said, "Can I ever get Home without 
 her?" God forgive this sinfulness ! Is she not my example still? 
 "Her memory/' Dr. Tyng said, "could only lead upward and 
 onward every one whose heart had loved her." 
 
 " Jinty, seas cannot divide us." I know it. It is only " Jordan's 
 wave" that now separates us. We are now " one army of the living 
 
 God." 
 
 
 
 " Angels, and living saints and dead, 
 But one communion make." 
 
 Since I have been yours, dear husband, I have kept back not 
 one thought that has been in my heart, which is so wholly yours ; 
 and I must say what I now think not entirely new, for a shadow 
 of it has seemed upon me all this spring, notwithstanding I have 
 been in perfect health. I shall not be very, very long behind my 
 sister. Our family have an organization (some members of it) that 
 was not made for long life. The never-ceasing action of the whole 
 nervous system in power and force that cannot long continue. I 
 would not pain you, darling. We and ours are in His hand. I 
 do not dare say this because I feel the meetness for heaven that 
 has so long been her's. Oh, no, no. May now her spirit, her 
 words, her whole life and death, be sanctified and blessed to me ! 
 In her own loved hymn : t 
 
 " Nearer, my God, to Thee, 
 
 Nearer to Thee ; 
 E'en though it be a cross 
 
 That raiseth me; 
 Still all my song shall be, 
 Nearer, my God, to Thee."
 
 110 HOME. 
 
 RETURNS HOME. 
 
 Friday Morning, August 31, 1855. 
 
 I have just put J. ipto her crib. E. has gone over to bid a littl< 
 friend good-bye. Z. C. has gone over to New York to engage 
 state-rooms on the North River boat, .and I have a moment to give 
 to you Brother W. called again this morning. 
 
 [They go to Vermont and stay a few days, when she leaves for 
 home with W. A. P. Wednesday evening she writes : ] 
 
 I am very sorry to disappoint you, and make our stay from home 
 still longer, though glad to have a little time to see Vermont, and 
 hope to feel the benefit from that fresh, invigorating air, so as not 
 to come home looking quite so badly as I now do. 
 
 The dear boys, how I do want to see their faces ! But not so 
 much as I do their "papa's."
 
 GAMBIER. Ill 
 
 XI. 
 
 " In sure dwellings and in quiet resting places." 
 
 Visit to Gambier Diocesan Convention Pleasant greetings Trip to Missouri 
 with her cousin Mrs. Maccracken W. A. P. Gratitude for attention A night 
 of diversion Hurrah for Ohio girls and Iowa development St. Louis First 
 impressions of Missouri Rose Hill Beau ideal tf a country house Her aunt's 
 delightful home Her uncle's missionary work. May, 1856, to Oct. 1858. 
 
 MRS. PLATT goes to Gambier with the Rev. Mr. McElroy and 
 wife to attend the Diocesan Convention. 
 
 TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 GAMBIER, May 4, 1856. 
 
 Our ride was very pleasant, though long as to time ; we arrived 
 here at 5^ o'clock. I think I never had so long and pleasant a 
 ride. I was not at all sick ! We stopped and ate our lunch under 
 the trees ; afterward stopped an hour at some tavern for the horses 
 to get their dinner and rest. A very pleasant driver, but poor 
 horses you would think, though Mrs. McElroy and I said we were 
 so well satisfied with them so soon as we saw their heads; we like 
 to go slow and sure. 
 
 How constantly you are in my thoughts, connected with the en- 
 joyment of every religious service, and the meeting and greeting 
 of every dear old friend. "Like me, like my husband" my heart 
 seems to say. And Mrs. Day, too, and her beautiful sister, how 
 my heart warmed to them, as they so kindly met me and looked 
 " so disappointed that Mr. P. had not come." 
 
 Everybody (so many, I mean) has met me so kindly, and says, 
 "I am so glad_>w* are here!" I suppose my pale face called for 
 this change, they think. And, oh, // is so very pleasant to see so
 
 112 WESTWARD A LOVING BROTHER. 
 
 many that I know so well, that are dear from associations with 
 those who can never more meet below ! / do feel so grateful to 
 you, darling, for the kind consideration that urged me off, at such 
 a sacrifice. I fear both Marys will have chills, and then how will 
 you get on? Poor Nettie, who will look after her ? Who? God. 
 Is not His eye over you all ? I leave you all in His holy keeping. 
 Pray only that the Blessed Spirit of all Grace may rest upon every 
 member of this Convention, and every visitor in this parish. Miss 
 Battersby and I went to the 6 o'clock prayer-meeting how delight- 
 ful ! Afterwards Mr. French, Mr. Burr, Mr. Roberts, and Mr. 
 Stiirges walked nearly home with me. Mrs. French and all her 
 family are here; I am so glad to see them. 
 
 1858. In the autumn of this year Mrs. Platt went with her 
 cousin, Mrs. Maccracken, of Lancaster, O., to visit an aunt in 
 Missouri, whose husband, a Baptist minister,* had gone there some 
 years before, as a missionary. The journey was made partly for 
 the benefit of her health. 
 
 From letters written to her husband during this trip the follow- 
 ing extracts are" taken: 
 
 COLUMBUS, Sept. 21, 1858. 
 
 I have just laid down "Two Millions," not dollars, but a little 
 poem. My heart and head are full of you, my husband, you 
 your own self has stood out before me at every page by way of 
 strongest contrast. Judge for yourself; I send the book. 
 
 Brother W. met me at the station. No own brother could more 
 tenderly care for me in every little nameless attention the seat in 
 the carriage, the driving, "not too fast, Jemmy" (to the driver), 
 insisting upon almost carrying me up stairs to choose where I would 
 
 sleep, etc. etc I accept all easily, if not gracefully, 
 
 as to your wife. 
 
 . . . . E., H., F., J., H., how they all come about me! 
 I have just one prayer: " Thy almighty arm, oh, keep it continu- 
 ally around these precious little ones 1" "If the Lord keep not 
 the house, the watchmen watch in vain." But He is our "keeper," 
 and I can, and do, perfectly trust Him 
 
 * Rev. Wm. Welch. He was employed by the American S. S. Union for a 
 number of years.
 
 HURRAH FOR OHIO GIRLS. 113 
 
 We have just had a nice long talk about his loneliness. It makes 
 my heart ache to see how solitary in heart he is. [This brother, 
 W. A. P., had but recently lost his wife the Fanny of other let- 
 ters a lady of most superior heart and mind culture.] . . . . 
 I do like him. Take him all in all, he is a superior man. The 
 kindness which God has put in his heart to ever feel towards me 
 only his half brother's wife, I can never forget. 
 
 She went from Columbus to Lancaster via Zanesville, and writes 
 from Lancaster as follows : 
 
 September 23d. 
 
 The hotel at Zanesville was very full, but the landlord said he 
 would do all in his power to make me comfortable. "Would I 
 object to using a room with another lady?" " No, not at all, if 
 she was decent and nice." " She was." So I had a night of as 
 great diversion and entertainment as you ever heard of. 
 
 She was a young Mrs. M., born and brought up in Beverly, 
 Ohio ; married and moved to Iowa. I wish you could have peeped 
 in. This was her first trip home with a baby two years old. She 
 stayed in the room to watch the child, and I went to bed soon after 
 tea, because so tired, with pillows tucked under my head. I 
 perched myself for a life picture of rural Iowa life. I wish you 
 could have seen speaker and listener, and heard the peals of 
 laughter from the top of the straw. She was very young eighteen 
 or twenty; a plain, unhooped, simple country girl ; but, if a speci- 
 men of native Ohio culture, then hurrah for Ohio girls after this, 
 and Iowa development! Their little settlement was log and board 
 houses, with near 200 inhabitants only. She gave a minute de- 
 scription of "our Lyceum," which meets every Wednesday night, 
 in which women take part in debate and write essays. "Why," I 
 said, " how many women have you, out of the 200 men, women, 
 and children, that are able to 'write essays?' ' "About five." 
 "What do you do with your baby when you 'debate' and read 
 your own ' essays ?' ' " Oh, I set her down, or hand her to some- 
 body. " "What kind of questions do you discuss? Give me a 
 specimen, do." "Moral suasion; capital punishment; women's 
 rights. We are all great women's rights folks."
 
 114 RICH IN BLESSINGS. 
 
 But I must leave the rest till I see you. It was certainly the best 
 evening's entertainment I have had for a long time, completely 
 diverted and restored me. I was questioned and talked to sleep, 
 and awoke this morning in time to see " Lilly Doll" take her bath. 
 
 In justice to Mrs. M , of Millersburg, I must say the questioner 
 
 was your wife, as she only asked one question : " Does your hus- 
 band live on a farm ?" 
 
 When I awoke yesterday morning the pain was all gone, and I 
 was much stronger, and so thankful. The ride to Zanesville made 
 me "sea-sick," but still I enjoyed it much. As we drew near to 
 the city memory went back to the first time I saw it, now more 
 than twenty years, then twelve years ago a bride with you. 
 Mind went to and fro over all this space, counting up and com- 
 paring. Shall I tell you the sum I made ? It was this : that, 
 though childhood, with its sunny gayety, and youth with its bright- 
 ness, are no more mine, I am now, with you and our precious 
 children, richer, fuller, happier in earthly stores than I could ever 
 count before. 
 
 But I am very tired and must rest. 
 
 Your own 
 
 JENNIE. 
 
 FROM CINCINNATI. 
 
 September 27, 1858. 
 
 . . . . I feel that your prayers, darling husband, encircle 
 me, and Jesus, our blessed Saviour, has been very near "about 
 my path" all this day. I did so dread the ride, and never felt so 
 "down," as I did last Monday; but I really feel to-night no worse, 
 and hope I shall be held safely in His hand to my journey's end. 
 
 The doctor said the journey was often a tonic and would help. . 
 He did not say, " Don't go on." 
 
 John Maccracken met us at the Broadway House.
 
 MISSOURI ROSE HILL. 115 
 
 TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 ROSE HILL, Mo., October i, 1858. 
 
 I am not sure this will go to the office to-day. " Hickory Grove" 
 (the post-office) is some four miles distant. When Willie learns 
 the way he will be post-boy. 
 
 Our ride to St. Louis was long all day and night to 4 o'clock 
 in the morning of Wednesday. The cars are very wide, and seats 
 comfortable. You know I can curl up like a kitten, and can make 
 a bed of one seat as nicely as on a parlor sofa. Indeed, it seemed 
 that I gathered strength and improved all the way from Lancaster. 
 Monday I could not sit up, but lay down on the seat all the way 
 to Cincinnati ; was carried in and out of the cars ; but I feel better 
 now. 
 
 We went to the "Planters' House," St. Louis, for breakfast, 
 and left by the North Missouri Railroad for Wright City. Here 
 
 Aunt S , and " Sam," with his wagon, met us, and we arrived 
 
 safely at Rose Hill about 5 o'clock P. M. We did not think well 
 of Indiana. Illinois we passed over in the dark. The great prairies 
 in the moonlight reminded me of the ocean and its vastness. There 
 was cultivation everywhere, not unlike passing through Ohio. Some 
 elegant residences in the suburbs of St. Louis, and richly cultivated 
 grounds. But all this was left behind as we went on; crossed the 
 great Missouri River in a steam ferry-boat. The face of the country 
 is most beautiful, such rich pasture lands and beautiful wooded 
 
 spots here and there. Cousin S insists that "Missouri is the 
 
 most beautiful country she has ever seen." But I d.o not quite 
 agree with her. I should put on more hills and add other varieties 
 to suit my taste, though it is greatly superior to anything we have 
 seen yet on this trip. 
 
 Dearly as I wanted to see Aunt Sarah, I had a sort of dread of 
 her Missouri home. This feeling did not lessen as we drove 
 through the woods and over the prairies for six miles, and saw the 
 rude log-houses and rude improvements. Judge, then, of the as- 
 tonishment and delight when, coming through a bit of woods, her 
 home stood before us, the very sweetest, neatest, beau-ideal of a 
 country house ever seen anywhere. Built of wood, painted white, 
 projecting roof, with "curly-cues" all round its edge, a portico
 
 Il6 BEAU IDEAL OF A HOME. 
 
 in front, embowered with honeysuckle and climbing roses, with 
 seats to lounge on after dinner. Green shutters, and all fresh and 
 clean, as if only painted yesterday. A spacious lawn all round, 
 ornamented with the choicest shrubs and evergreens, interspersed 
 with clumps of native forest trees ; the whole inclosed with a neat 
 paling fence, with clean-kept gravel walks leading from the door. 
 In front a little gate leads into the "park," and this spot is the 
 most beautiful of all, a real park of native forest, trimmed out to 
 suit the taste, with here and there some native cedars planted, to 
 give variety and greenness through the winter. Through this the 
 carriage drives to the house from the public road, entering by a 
 large gateway. On one side of the lawn stand old apple-trees 
 loaded with choice fruit, the ground covered with fallen apples. 
 Also peaches, finest " Late Heath," and large red varieties; butter 
 pears, too, luscious, such as I have never seen west of Philadel- 
 phia markets. Oh, how I have wanted to put some to your mouth 
 fill your hands and pockets. 
 
 Behind the house is Aunt S 's well-tilled garden, very large, 
 
 and full of everything, from borders of choicest flowers to musk 
 melons and onions, sage and salsify. There is no house in sight, 
 or sound of a neighbor. Solitude reigns, yet no solitude at all, for 
 the birds and insects, katydids, crickets and grass-hoppers, bumble- 
 bees and yellow-jackets, wasps and butterflies, are jumping, spring- 
 ing, flying, and singing all over and everywhere. (I took a wasp 
 out of my bed last night, not admiring such company, though I 
 am lonely at night.) 
 
 The furniture of the house compares favorably with out door 
 " improvements," having been transported from the Jerseys. You 
 remember aunt's well-kept and even beautiful hair-seat sofa, work- 
 ing chairs, etc. There is a parlor, large dining-room, study, 
 kitchen, pantry, wash-room, with etceteras below, and seven sleep- 
 ing-rooms above, neatly finished and furnished. 
 
 Such is part of the sunny side of this home. The shady side is 
 the condition of the society around. How they all want Cyrus 
 
 Platt to move his family here ! There is a neat farm, Aunt S 
 
 says, she has her "eye on for you." You must certainly all see 
 this spot, dear husband. 
 
 I feel much stronger this morning. I lay down and rested most 
 of yesterday, and talked to uncle and all as fast as tongue could 
 go ! Paper, is full, with much unsaid.
 
 A RIDE ON THE PRAIRIES. 117 
 
 [A sheet is added, dated Saturday morning, in which she regrets 
 the long time we shall have to wait before hearing from her, as 
 they send to the post-office but three times a week ; gives directions 
 about some household affairs, and adds: ] 
 
 I am so grateful for all the deliverances of our journey, and all 
 the health and "well-doing" you and the dear children have en- 
 joyed in my absence. I shall ever feel deeply indebted to cousin 
 Sarah for this trip, so profitable to my health. 
 
 October 4, 1858. 
 
 Uncle tries to be a great tease. He insists that now I am shut 
 up, away in Missouri, you will run away with the babies to Cali- 
 fornia, etc. I only laugh and wonder if any other wife knows the 
 perfect trust, and rest, and love I have in thee. I do so begin to 
 long for my own dear husband, and feel, if God is pleased to spare 
 me to get home, I shall cling closer, and more truly value all I 
 have in thee ! 
 
 I am so thankful the precious children do so well without me 
 dear little J. and baby H: such wee ones to leave so long. "Un- 
 less the Lord keep the house, the watchmen watch in vain." May 
 we both be made truly grateful for His protecting care while thus 
 separated one from the other ! My health still improves. Yester- 
 day I ventured a six-mile ride with uncle and Willie to his churches 
 on the great prairie, and I felt no inconvenience from the twelve- 
 mile ride. 
 
 . . . . I have not selected a farm yet. As a result of all I 
 have seen, Ohio and Ohio people and Delaware have greatly risen 
 in my estimation. Only duty, as in dear aunt Sarah's case, could 
 bring me to place my family among these Missourians. Even such 
 a beautiful home as this could not lure me. 
 
 I can understand how uncle wanted to come and preach the 
 Gospel and close his life among his family kindred (his brothers 
 and sisters are settled all round). As early as 1817 the land of this 
 farm was "entered" for him, without the remotest idea that he 
 should ever live upon it. He and wife went out from Philadel- 
 phia to St. Louis as missionaries about this time. They returned 
 East, and remained till after her mother's death; then, in 1826, 
 came back with family and settled on this farm, and planted these 
 trees that are now so large. Aunt felt that their four children could
 
 Il8 LONGINGS FOR HOME. 
 
 not be properly educated here, so again removed East, and uncle 
 became general agent for the American Sunday-school Union for 
 twenty years, until his age showed it was no longer his duty to be 
 so actively employed and exposed by travel. In 1848 they settled 
 finally at Rose Hill, and everything in and out of the house looks 
 as if they had always lived here. Such order and neatness not a 
 chip or a bit of paper blowing about out of place house, barn- 
 yard, chicken-yard, all the same. I think aunt feels lonely, and 
 longs for company of her own people. How much she seems to 
 enjoy our visit ! I do want to gratify her as long as we can, but 
 think we must talk about turning homeward next week, though we 
 have decided nothing yet, nor spoken to dear aunt. Cousin Sarah 
 is very feeble. I feel that they may never meet below again, and 
 shall wish them to be together as long as they can. I inclose Mrs. 
 Ruffner's letter; is it not kind and friendly? I do hope gousin 
 
 S will be well enough to stop at Louisville and see her on our 
 
 return. 
 
 Aunt S has just come in and asks, " Have you given my love 
 
 to Mr. Platt, and told him to kiss all the babies for me?" Cousin 
 Sarah unites in aunt's message. 
 
 I am pretty well, with kisses for the children*. 
 
 CINCINNATI, Tuesday Evening, Oct. 19, 1858, 
 
 Broadway Hotel. 
 
 We reached this city this morning at 5 o'clock, and found your 
 two letters. My heart was filled with longing to get home, and I 
 felt that I could not put my bonnet off, but go straight through 
 alone. But cousin S. seemed so disturbed, so unwilling, after all 
 her extreme kindness, I did not see how to disappoint her in her 
 plans for here and Columbus, especially as she determined she 
 could not go to Delaware with me, but would see me to Columbus, 
 and stay with me at brother William's all night, and, as a favor, 
 asked me to stay and go with her. How could I refuse ? . . . . 
 
 We took a carriage and drove around the city and the beautiful 
 suburbs; but I can truly say I could only enjoy the ride with my 
 eyes, for I feel so sad and disappointed, and long to get away to you. 
 
 . . . . We shall leave to-morrow at 9 A. M., and stay with 
 cousin until Thursday A. M. She will then go to Lancaster, and 
 your wife to you. The poor children ! I am so sorry to disap- 
 point them so many times.
 
 REV. DR. TYNG. 119 
 
 XII. 
 
 " He that walketh with wise men shall be wise." 
 
 Letters from Dr. Tyng at Gambier and New York First letter to Rev. S. C. 
 Damon after marriage Pleasant reminiscences A peep at my children 
 Twenty-two years have passed, but friendship remains as fresh and strong as 
 ever. June, 1860, to September, 1861. 
 
 REV. DR. TYNG came to Gambier to deliver an address at the 
 Commencement, and while there Mrs. Platt sent him an invitation 
 to make her a visit. This is his reply : 
 
 GAMBIER, June 21, 1860. 
 Mv DEAR JEANETTE : 
 
 I was grateful for your very kind note, received just as I left 
 home, on Friday, last week. I was engaged on Sunday for Cleve- 
 land, but a breaking up of two trains on the road detained us for 
 four hours, and I was obliged to spend Sunday in Pittsburg. I 
 came here on Monday, where I have been lecturing to the students 
 in the seminary, twice a day, through the whole week. To-morrow 
 I have three engagements, and must return home on Monday. I 
 should have great pleasure in visiting you if it were possible. But 
 I find no convenience in getting to you from here, and my engage- 
 ments at home compel my haste. I am e.ven more immersed and 
 overwhelmed in labors as age comes upon me. 
 
 Cares in great numbers come upon me, and though memories of 
 the past are very pleasant, and anticipations of the future are still 
 brighter, I am not without a share in the annoyances and trials of 
 life. I feel always sure, however, that it is resistance which makes 
 affliction, and that perfect submission to God's will is and must be 
 perfect peace. 
 
 Speak of rne kindly to your husband, and teach your children 
 to know me, and do not yourself forget 
 
 Your faithful and loving friend, 
 
 STEPHEN H. TYNG.
 
 120 DR. TYNG A GRATEFUL HEART. 
 
 FROM DR. TYNG. 
 
 NEW YORK, July 21, 1860. 
 MY DEAR JEANETTE : 
 
 Your letter was a great pleasure and comfort to me. Amidst the 
 snows of winter few flowers bloom: for love extended to age the 
 heart is peculiarly grateful. You were always attractive and dear 
 as a girl; but, when we were acquainted, you were encompassed 
 also with friends and family, who were very dear, too. Many have 
 gone; many have changed their relations to us. New scenes and 
 new persons have been thrown around us both. But your tender 
 remembrance of me is the more grateful amidst this revolution. 
 
 I am rejoicing to hear of your contentment and happiness, though 
 God has been pleased apparently to make your circumstances 
 moderate. I pray that your children may have much cause to rise 
 up and call you blessed. To train a family for Christ and glory 
 is no small responsibility. The Lord bless you in all He has 
 given you. 
 
 Your kind notice of my one book in your possession leads me* to 
 add three more of mine, which I have sent by express 
 
 Let us purpose in a simple purpose to live for Jesus, to drink of 
 His cup, and to be baptized with His baptism, as He shall deem 
 best. He is to be honored by us ; the way is of little consequence. 
 He can do us no harm in any way. Let us love to glorify Him. 
 
 Love'to your husband and children. 
 
 Your ever faithful friend, 
 
 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 
 
 HER FIRST LETTER TO MR. DAMON AFTER HER MARRIAGE 
 A RENEWAL OF THE CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, January 14, 1861. 
 REV. S. C. DAMON [HONOLULU.] 
 
 MY DEAR OLD FRIEND: "There is a Providence that shapes 
 our ends." Does not the same guide the pen? prompt it? Or 
 why should I write to you to-day? My heart is not a bit warmer, 
 truer, or more full of interest for you and yours, than it has been 
 these twenty-two years. The desire and intention to write is no
 
 DR. DAMON HISTORY OF HOLDEN. 121 
 
 stronger than for five years, since when your last has been looking me 
 in the face every time my portfolio opened. Here are the "second 
 causes." Delaware, Ohio, a half-country, half-village home; din- 
 ner time; a pattering rain, with January sleet, all over the lawn 
 and old oak trees ; a bright wood fire in the little back bedroom 
 aunty's* room. A dear old aunt in the great focking-chair, with 
 knitting and newspaper on the stand at her elbow. A plate, with 
 knife and half-pared great apple, is brought in from the dinner- 
 table by a little " mother," who fills the small rocking-chair, coax- 
 ing " father" to sit down and eat his apple, too. " No, must get 
 back to business." 
 
 The door closes, and the apple-paring goes on for one minute ; 
 put down to open the door for a three-year old curly head, leading 
 
 in baby F , fourteen months old to-day. The latter, after 
 
 pulling about the tongs, and trying to get the shovel, was sent off 
 to the dining-room to get dinner with his nurse, Mary. The former, 
 never still, climbed up into the rocking-chair, and made piano of 
 mother's back. Then the apple was finished, divided, and handed 
 round with the remark, "Only think, Aunt Clara, that young lady 
 I met the other evening, just from Connecticut, never heard of 
 Holden, Mass., or Oxford! I was hunting up something to say 
 to the Quaker stranger, and spoke of dear old friends coming from 
 these places. Martha's old school friend, Celia Campbell, came 
 from Oxford, and my Honolulu friend, Mr. Damon, from Holden. 
 Do you know anything about Holden? Why, I have a book on 
 
 the shelves that will tell about it! Jump down, H ; let me 
 
 get it, 'History of Holden.' ' Jeanette and Martha, with the 
 author's kind regards, 1841.' You must see the letter he wrote 
 me, June 24, 1846, so very kind and brotherly. It is in my port- 
 folio. I have been always going to answer it." With moistened 
 eyes the letter was read, and then the pen came on this sheet, and 
 would turn words to say, "Just as warm and true is the regard 
 (why not say affection ?) 'Jeanette' retains for her friend, ' S. C. 
 D.,' this day, as when they rambled over the lanes and fields of 
 old Burlington, or knelt together in the little Presbyterian prayer- 
 meeting : just the same." 
 
 The form, the features, and heart of my old friend are before 
 
 * Her husband's Aunt Clara.
 
 122 A PEEP AT MY CHILDREN. 
 
 me, fresh as in daily intercourse. It seems as if he could step in 
 this very afternoon and take that vacant chair. How pleased and 
 interested in this old aunt he would be, to hear her say, as she did 
 to me just now, "Tell him I am just as much interested in his 
 Holden history as if I was a Massachusetts woman." Ah, there 
 are hearts that never grow old ! and this aunty is one of them. Old 
 age is beautiful in her. In the hushed evening hour He spares her 
 to us to show us how full of comfort and support He can make 
 life's close, when from the days of youth the Creator has been 
 remembered. (Here she comes to my table, looking for a pencil 
 to make some extracts from your book.) Twenty years taken down, 
 dusted, and put back, has this little book passed through my hands, 
 scarcely opened ; now it comes fresh with interest, almost hal- 
 lowed with never-dying associations of the past. Yes, never-dying ! 
 My precious sister 1 it seems but yesterday that we three were 
 together. 
 
 You want to take a peep at my children? I wish you could after 
 they are all asleep for the night ; that is the time I most enjoy 
 looking at them. Come up into the boys' room, and see if they 
 are not two fine-looking fellows. No need to step lightly ; school 
 all day, with skating and sliding, and home chores, give sound 
 slumber. Is not that shaggy head big enough for a Webster? 
 Sound-looking enough for a President? I hope not. Their mother's 
 only prayerful wish is, that God will accept her boys ; call and fit 
 them for ambassadors for Christ. This is quiet, thoughtful H. 
 See mirthful, laughter-loving F. ! His face is hardly at rest even 
 when asleep ; arm over his brother's neck, promptings of a heart 
 
 full of affection. His hair is soft and light, with blue eyes. H 
 
 has soft, brown eyes, the gentle expression, some think, of his 
 Aunt Martha. His hair is as brown as his mother's used to be. 
 
 But come across the hall and see our girls. Take them to your 
 heart as your own, too, if God has not lent you any. E., my eld- 
 est, first born ! words can never tell how dear is this child to me. 
 I have from the first hour of taking her to my bosom tried to hold 
 her lightly, as loaned a little while only, to be trained for the 
 Master's service, here or there, as He will. Should her life be pro- 
 longed you may have her as a fellow-worker for Christ in the Sand- 
 wich Islands. Shall she be educated for a teacher? or what post 
 will you assign her? I could not let her go to any other foreign
 
 ANOTHER JEANETTE HULME. 123 
 
 field without much grace being given; but your Islands have seemed 
 very near and very inviting ever since you made home there. And 
 the little fingers have traced out their bearings ever since the 
 geography came into her hands. "O mother, do write that letter 
 to your friend Mr. Damon!" she has said a thousand times. 
 
 This little sister by her side, J. we call her, but she has not a bit 
 of mother about her; very beautiful as a baby, but now baby loveli- 
 ness has given place to a strong-willed, determined, quiet, self- 
 reliant look. "Our oaken twig," I often call her, and wonder 
 what are the storms and tempests that little heart is to brave. With 
 religious principle she will be fully able to bear all that the provi- 
 dence of God lays upon her. Will you have her, too ? 
 
 But here in the nursery come. Here is your old friend herself, 
 with curly head, nestled among the pillows I cannot describe her. 
 In her I see myself as others see me. God sparing her life there 
 will be another Jeanette Hulme. Will you like her? 
 
 And now the crib. Ah, this is the child among them all ! 
 Months of ill health and tedious confinement to the house and 
 couch preceded the birth of this precious baby boy. His mother 
 looks upon him as coming for some special mercy and comfort, 
 and regards him as all the Lord's. I wish you could see him see 
 us all ! Now, my children are just like all other children, doubt- 
 less, only in their mothers' eyes. Remember this, and when you 
 come to see them don't expect too much. You know well just 
 what an impulsive, undisciplined mother they have. 
 
 Twenty-two years! the changes, "sundry and manifold changes 
 of the world," as one of our collects beautifully says what record 
 shall this page bear? "Whoso offereth thanks he honoreth me;" 
 with thanksgiving must begin and end all my testimony of "all 
 the way which the Lord God hath led me these forty years," to 
 humble and prove me. Ah, dear friend, I am the same ; I have 
 only all this time been learning more and more of His long-suffer- 
 ing patience. Oh, the power, the fulness, the preciousness of a 
 Saviour's love ! The thirteen years of married life have been full 
 of blessings, though chequered with care and disappointment in 
 regard to outward prosperity. My husband is not rich; a golden 
 portion is not to be our lot, I often assure him. But that does not 
 belong to happiness. Discipline, trial, must come in some form ; 
 and want of riches is the very least ill earth can know.
 
 124 KENYON COLLEGE. 
 
 What of the outward changes in your old friend Jeanette? She 
 often gives a look, not a sigh, saying, "This is Mrs. Platt, I suppose." 
 Jeanette Hulme has gone, I told you ; you may find her hereafter 
 in her daughter H. I do not know that the mother is sobered a 
 whit; and if the eye is dimmed, so that I hear talk of "spectacles 
 coming," not a sunbeam can stray into her apartment, or flower 
 open at her feet with tint unseen or unfelt. The chestnut curls are 
 gone, turned into thin bands that are marbled over with silver 
 threads. Never mind ; in half an hour's time you would get used 
 to all changes, and have just as pleasant times with her as twenty- 
 two years ago. Come, try it. Is it not time to visit the States 
 again? Does not friend Julia want to see her friend again? Is it 
 not time to bring the boys for school to prepare for college ? Their 
 college is in Ohio, Gambier, Knox County, good for sound learn- 
 ing, better for healthy moral influences, best for the quickening 
 graces of the Holy Spirit that year after year are showered upon 
 that institution. There is a good grammar school connected with 
 it. May I not have your boys to go to school, and spend vacations 
 with me? I will make them Episcopalians? Certainly. Their 
 father ought to have been one.(?) I have learned to value our 
 church more and more, year by year; not others less, but her 
 more. What has become of your prayer-book? Don't you want 
 a new one? Is the "Daily Food" worn out? Mine is now open 
 before me, the daily companion since childhood. This little col- 
 lection from the "exceeding great and precious promises," how 
 enriched and hallowed by associations of the past ! What helpers 
 in time of need ! The Psalms for the day, as appointed in the 
 prayer-book, have made my daily Bible reading now for the last 
 few years. Meet me here with fervent prayer for each other's 
 soul's welfare, and for the families committed to our care. 
 
 I say nothing on the state of our beloved country, so torn with 
 dissensions ; the newspapers can better show you this. God reign- 
 eth. I am, though no longer a Quaker, nor a "peace" woman, 
 yet for peace, and tell my husband we will run away to Canada or 
 the Sandwich Islands. 
 
 But I must stop ; my pen has run freely as if you were at my 
 side. Can you read these outpourings of an old friend's heart?
 
 s. c. D. THE SEAMAN'S CHAPLAIN. 125 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, September 4, 1861. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 It is just three months to-day since you came (for your package 
 was like a visit from yourself). The pleasant picture, so very 
 pleasant to see again, though its original can be no more fresh in 
 recollection than before. I know just how you looked look. 
 There are faces that never grow older in expression, and I am sure 
 Julia says yours is one of these. I see the preacher in my picture, 
 and the echo of his Sabbath duties seems yet on his heart as he 
 rests in the artist's chair. I see no trace of years or care ; only 
 the sober, tranquillized mark of holy work; the seal of Christ's 
 ambassador. It seems to me I never saw you sit still long enough 
 to make a picture ; and if the body rested, the countenance was 
 ever changing, and the lips never quiet in repose. I believe you 
 were almost as great a talker as I. Julia will tell me, "That is 
 just like him now." I know it, am quite sure my picture tells more 
 than the truth about his sobriety. Even in the pulpit, although I 
 never saw him there, I know just how he looks, in spite of the 
 picture's tale. "It is his father!" was the first exclamation, as I 
 took it from the envelope. Not a bit of age about it; every feature 
 just as when I said good-bye, long years ago ; but calm, quiet re- 
 flection, where I had only seen the living, changing light of warm, 
 impulsive thought and action. "The Seaman's Chaplain" ought 
 to be just as the picture tells ! I don't believe he is, in spite of all 
 endeavors. I never saw "the Chaplain!" I know that, I know 
 that, and so am so glad and thankful for your kind thought of 
 
 sending the picture. And now I want the boys, one by one,'S , 
 
 E , F , and W , as you are willing to spare their pic- 
 tures to me. I suspect that I shall find my young companion, 
 " S. C. D.," among them, in parts or as a whole, more than in 
 the calm, reflective Chaplain's face, now before me. Let me see 
 for myself. It is said if children in feature resemble one parent, 
 in character they are like the other. I have a yearning desire to 
 see S , your eldest. I saw his name enrolled among your col- 
 lege youth, and said, " Can it be ? His father seemed but as a 
 college youth the other day !"
 
 126 A NURSERY MOTHER. 
 
 Why have I delayed this answer so long three months ? You 
 have asked that question so many times as I have passed by from 
 my nursery mantel ; but, when I have stopped and looked, I have 
 not seen impatience or reproach, but the same appreciating, sym- 
 pathizing look that would greet me, had you in reality just come 
 in and sat down with my little group. I am a nursery mother ; six 
 little ones keep me very close, and all out-door duty is left for some 
 one else to do. This summer my work has been nursing the sick, 
 first one little one and then another. As I have said, all this you 
 have seen (through your picture), and many a cheering, helping 
 word seemed given by the old friend of youthful days. I tbink I 
 hear you say, "Look not on the things which are seen." "We 
 walk by faith." "We have not an high priest which cannot be 
 touched with the feeling of our infirmities." "Looking unto Jesus," 
 Jeanette, "so let us run." Yes, a glance at the well-remembered 
 face has helped through many a weary hour of nursery duty and 
 indisposition. So you and Julia may learn how even the picture 
 of a Christian brother can do good. 
 
 I seem to see and know all your boys. Never fear for F , 
 
 "the doll-lover." His gentleness will be a shield, and his affec- 
 tionate, domestic disposition make mother and sisters wherever he 
 goes. Our precious brother James was such a child as your boy. 
 I have never met such another character in man as was his, so 
 noble, pure, and manly. "To the pure all things are pure," and 
 I think the world deals kindly by such. I have much more fear 
 for those independent boys who have always seemed above pets. 
 Your family circle seems complete in comfort and happiness. I 
 am sure our island friend is a happy, and ought to be a most thank- 
 ful, man 
 
 I really feel like lingering about this page, as loath to shut the 
 study-door where I have made a call, although I know time is pre- 
 cious, and I have already made a long visit to my friend. I can- 
 not make you know how near to us Honolulu seems since your 
 letter came. If I were rich I know well you should soon see hus- 
 band, six babies, and all at your door. I would just " flee away" 
 from this torn, distracted country, bleeding away her very life- 
 blood. I will not write upon this theme, the newspapers will give 
 you every particular. You will remember your own country on 
 the coming fast-day (September 26), I know.
 
 TWILIGHT PLEASURES. 127 
 
 Nurse has just taken baby F off for a walk to see his grandma. 
 
 He is just beginning to talk the sweetest baby age. H has 
 
 gone, too. J is laughing away under the trees below my win- 
 dow, trying to fix up a great flag of her brother's. E says 
 
 she is going to write herself to you. She is but a careless writer, 
 as you will see, although a good student when in school. 
 
 What are those trees about the Bethel and Sailors' Home? They 
 look like elms. Do you have such beautiful autumns as we ? Such 
 changing verdure ? Do you have any of our out-door sounds, so 
 pleasant to my ear at twilight, seeming to sing of autumn's ap- 
 proach and the past summer's ripe old age? My favorite cricket, 
 and other tiny humming things, do you have them ?
 
 128 PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 " But the very hairs of your head are all numbered." 
 
 Trip to Philadelphia General E An agreeable travelling companion 
 
 Brookfield Burlington Kindly greeting Not a day older Contentment. 
 September to November, 1863. 
 
 THURSDAY, September 17, 1863, Mrs. Platt started for Philadel- 
 phia, taking her son H with her as escort and companion. Her 
 
 health was much impaired, and the trip was made on that account 
 and to visit Eastern friends. The following letters were written to 
 her husband : 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, SPRUCE STREET, September 19, 1863. 
 
 A child's gleeful voice below my window makes me, oh, so 
 hungry for my own home babies ! How I longed for F.'s pattering 
 feet and M.'s calling papa, papa, this morning! And dear N. 's 
 morning face each and all. There is no home without you all ! 
 
 My eye is very weak from the tire of the journey, and I cannot 
 write long. 
 
 We arrived safe and well at five o'clock last evening. John, 
 Anna, and Fred. W. were at the depot. 
 
 At Crestline we went first and selected our seats, which I took 
 while H. went to the ticket office. When he was gone I said to a 
 passenger, " Do we check our baggage in or out of the cars ?" He 
 instantly arose and asked, " Can I do anything for you, Madam?" 
 1 replied, "I am afraid my little boy may forget about the bag- 
 gage." "Let me go, describe him," and away he sprang. In 
 a few moments he was back, and we were off. He had met H. 
 getting in the car without thinking of the baggage, and found the 
 two trunks put away as uncalled-for baggage ! Only by making 
 the porter, with his commanding manner (feather, hat, and officer's 
 uniform), could he get our trunks at all. ' What a silly wife and 
 boy," you will say. Never mind. The almost mishap gave us
 
 AN AGREEABLE COMPANION. 129 
 
 one of the most gentlemanly and kindest escorts I ever had, Gen- 
 eral E , from the command of the fleet on the Mississippi. I 
 
 could fill my letter in telling you of his pleasant attentions and our 
 talks. I showed my colors, of course, and found he had just such 
 "treason" at home in his Philadelphia wife. When a child he 
 lived just below Burlington, on the opposite side of our river. His 
 father was a Quaker! His wife an Episcopalian. When fifteen 
 years old he and his brother went to Illinois, and settled at Bunker 
 Hill. He was now on his way to Philadelphia to see an aged 
 mother, eighty-four, "a most wonderful woman; no son could 
 stay long away from her," as he said. She had lost the staff of 
 her old age in an elder brother, that fell in this war last spring. 
 Yet, though her heart was crushed, she only longed for more sons 
 to battle for their country ! There, that is patriotism enough for 
 you ! 
 
 Before we separated the General asked me to call and see his 
 mother, and said the acquaintance should not end for any fault of 
 his! I thanked him in your stead, and said, "My husband is 
 greatly indebted to you for his wife's comfort and pleasure of this 
 journey." 
 
 He will call here, if possible, but has but a few days three or 
 four and then must go back to duty. He is about forty-five, " a real 
 Western man," he affirms, though so much to and from Philadel- 
 phia, visiting his mother and old-home relations. His wife is a 
 member of Dr. Neville's congregation. They have no church near 
 them, but she can never lose her attachment to her church. He 
 was so simple and unobtrusive in manner, and yet so interesting 
 and entertaining. Was it not pleasant for me ! His home is an 
 hour and a half's ride from St. Louis, and we are to call on our 
 
 way to uncle W 's. The oddest part of the coincidence is, 
 
 that when I came to tell John about him, it proves that John's most 
 
 intimate friend's wife and General E 's wife are sisters. So 
 
 John will call on him this evening, if possible. His mother is a 
 sister of Colonel Davenport's widow, "superior family," sister 
 says. 
 
 But about the journey. We did not get to Pittsburg till 9 o'clock ; 
 
 "missed connection ;" had to go to a hotel and wait till 3 o'clock 
 
 in the morning. But the four hours' rest was so refreshing to me. 
 
 Here the General was so pleasant, getting the room, selecting his 
 
 9
 
 130 MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 
 
 own near, that we might feel his protection, if we needed any- 
 thing ; going with us to our door, and calling for us next morn- 
 ing ; showing H. how to pay his bill, and learn to be "escort to 
 a lady," in such a fatherly way. 
 
 I was so glad we missed connection ; this gave us the mountain 
 scenery by daylight. Ah, I cannot make you know how my eyes 
 feasted on the glorious sight. It rained, forcing down the clouds 
 upon the valleys, hung the mountain -tops with fleecy mist, then 
 dim sunshine painted the clouds above. You must see to under- 
 stand what we enjoyed ! From Harrisburg we had sunshine 
 spreading such beauty over the farming landscape. How H. en- 
 joyed the sight of the "great barns," " big rivers, bridges," etc. ! 
 
 September 25, ... Yesterday we all took tea with cousin 
 Thomas Hayes. How I wanted thee with me, to see the pretty 
 Quaker cap on a young cousin, Elizabeth Hulme, invited to meet 
 us. We are invited to take tea with her next "third day." 
 
 BURLINGTON, October 5, 1863. 
 
 I wished so much to write to you on Saturday, but it was impos- 
 sible in daylight, and I do not use my eyes after. There is so much 
 I shall have to leave to tell " face to face," you are so constantly 
 in my thoughts. When going about old Brookfield, how, how I 
 longed for your presence, to cheer and comfort, under the tide of 
 sad recollections ! The day proved cold and drizzling ; everything 
 seemed in unison. The cloud that fell over the beautiful country 
 home, when our beloved father was borne away, lingers as on that 
 day. The lawn has been beautified in these years ; shrubbery 
 grown, and vines planted by my own hand. Honeysuckles have 
 climbed to the chamber windows, and the ivy to the roof. A hand- 
 some tenement- house stands near " Caroline's kitchen j" but the 
 lady owner met us in mournful dress and tearful eyes, with almost 
 the first words, " Oh, how we want to sell, Mrs. Platt ! we have 
 known so much sorrow I cannot stay." Three times death has 
 entered. So, like our family and Dudley Tyng's, they had found 
 the pressure of sorrow obliging them to leave. 
 
 H. seemed much interested, went by himself, tell N. , to the 
 spring-house, where she watched the butter- making, and all over 
 the great barn, with its " marble sills," etc.
 
 BURLINGTON SO LITTLE CHANGED. 13! 
 
 How beautiful is this dear old place, Burlington, with its great 
 shade-trees and quiet homes ! How I wish you were with me to 
 enjoy the greetings ! Everybody exclaims, " How well you look !" 
 I do believe they think my husband the best care-taker in the 
 world. Indeed, dearest, I am very much better ; every day, for 
 the past week, seemed to add to my strength. Oh, I do so hope 
 to come back and be well enough to pay, in some measure, for all 
 the sacrifice you now make. 
 
 BURLINGTON, October 12, 1863. 
 
 If you do not write often, your letters are worth so much when 
 they do come ! Many thanks for yours of 4th, nine long pages. 
 [Here she writes about Rev. Mr. Noakes' coming to Delaware, and 
 describes his family. Suggests to call Mr. Ufford.] 
 
 How I long to see thee again ! sometimes almost impatient, and 
 want to hurry through the rest of my visit. But it would be a pity 
 not to try to see all who are expecting to see me. You cannot 
 imagine how much pleasure this visit gives. I tell them there is 
 quite a sunny side to staying away so long. And these sixteen 
 years have really passed more lightly over me than any one per- 
 son I have met! (So much in praise of my husband's care.) 
 Notwithstanding all that has been heard of the cares, reverses, 
 and vexations of " Jeanette Hulme's" married life, "out in the 
 West," I hear not one word of all this now. I am surprised to 
 hear all the astonishment expressed at my appearance, "so little 
 changed !" (of course you know that means compared with other 
 people.) 
 
 Poor John's delight is really childish to have me with him 
 again; and no "body about" makes it seem to him "like old 
 times." I have several times bowed to persons (gentlemen, old 
 faces, remember), and they have given a bewildered look, and 
 returned, "Good-morning, Miss Hulme!" 
 
 Saturday evening we took tea with an old friend, and she said, 
 " Put down the curls, and we have her just the same as twenty 
 years ago." 
 
 Now, I have given you all this nonsense just because it is about 
 your wife, and that you may know she has much improved in 
 health by all your privations in sparing her 
 
 How does poor M. get on with no mother? And E., is she 
 most tired out ?
 
 1 32 VACANT CHAIRS. 
 
 PHILADKLPHIA, October 23d, 1863. 
 
 We returned from Pennsylvania to Burlington yesterday, and 
 found yours of Sunday waiting me. Many thanks for its cheer- 
 ful, bright strain, which cheered me so much about home. It does 
 seem so dreadful for a mother to be so far from such a wee, wee 
 baby, as our darling. I sometimes feel I cannot stay from her 
 another moment. 
 
 . . . . Is it worth while to inquire the price of carpets in 
 Philadelphia, or can we get along without any, even if we do 
 move? Darling husband, I think I "hate" a bare floor, ugly 
 house, and shabby furniture, as much as any one can ; yet, so sure 
 am I these things have nothing to do with happiness, I can be 
 thankful, most thankful, without them, and look back and know, 
 " for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse," my lot has been a 
 blessed one with thee. 
 
 I cannot make you understand how this has been again and again 
 impressed upon me, as I have gone from house to house of these 
 cousins. I believe there is not one fireside that has no vacant 
 chair, no home that death has not entered ; and I hear the same 
 story from each, and see the quivering lip and tearful' eye of 
 agony. 
 
 Almost all of these young cousins have beautiful homes of their 
 own, but what care I for this? Would I exchange our unbroken 
 band for houses, or lands, or anything^earth can give? God has 
 blessed my married life above all others I have seen here, though 
 He has withheld wealth. 
 
 WEST PHILADELPHIA, November 7, 1863. 
 
 What a letter was yours of the 4th, so full of comfort and en- 
 couragement ! Just every word I needed better than a thousand 
 "doctors." I have been quiet and resting all the week, and am 
 much better. It was all "over-tax" of strength not fully estab- 
 lished. Your bright, patient, loving letter, will complete the cure. 
 I trust I will not " fix the day" as you say, "Do not" but hope 
 to see you the last of next week 
 
 Aunt Price sends her "love," and says, " Tell him he is the 
 second best husband ever was." How they all want to see you ! 
 
 [She returned home Saturday, November i4th, "looking well, 
 but has not recovered her nervous strength," as my journal has it.]
 
 HOSPITALITY. 133 
 
 XIV. 
 
 "Every wise woman buildeth her house. She openeth her mouth with wisdom, 
 and in her tongue is the law of kindness." 
 
 A hospitable house Death of her husband's mother Letters to her daughter 
 E. Her husband Rev. Dr. Damon Not a Yankee woman born to com- 
 mand Numerous household duties, sixteen knees and one hundred toes 
 To her son H., on the importance of a Godly life To S. C. D. Model 
 friendship, warm, pure, and true Visit from Samuel Damon Letter to 
 Brother John Floating island Pictures of her children Not "book chil- 
 dren" A happy family Views of dancing To Rev. S. C. D. Her daughter 
 E. in New York A happy Christmas Attention to Mr. P y He be- 
 comes interested in the P. E. Church Gift of a Prayer Book Birthday letter 
 to her daughter E. Delightful visit from Rev. Dr. Damon, wife, and son, 
 and Rev. Dr. Canfield To L. E. S. Matrimony Mistakes and missteps 
 Happiness not the great object of life A fearful venture No true union of 
 hearts and hands without God's blessing. September, 1864, to January, 1872. 
 
 MRS. PLATT'S house was ever the home of hospitality, and was 
 not long at a time without one or more guests either her own or 
 her children's friends. She used to say she would much rather 
 entertain than visit her friends. Nothing seemed to give her more 
 real pleasure than to have a house full of guests. Her inexhaustible 
 fund of conversation, her genuine kindness of heart, and her skill 
 in directing all matters pertaining to the culinary art, made it easy 
 on her part, and pleasant and agreeable to her friends to be enter- 
 tained by her. 
 
 During the spring, summer, and fall of this year, she had abund- 
 ant opportunity for the exercise of these gifts and the enjoyment 
 of this privilege, as she regarded it, by entertaining rather an 
 unusual number of her old friends of former days. 
 
 There was a continuous succession of beloved relatives, dear 
 friends, and valued acquaintances throughout the entire season. 
 Among others, the Rev. E. W. S., who had but recently returned 
 from his mission in China, in whom and his work Mrs. Platt felt
 
 134 TI *E CHRISTIAN'S HOME. 
 
 a special interest, and also because he was godfather to one of 
 her daughters. 
 
 These numerous visits made this an unusually busy summer with 
 Mrs. Platt, and left her but little time for letter writing. 
 
 FROM A LETTER TO HER DAUGHTER E., while on a visit at 
 Lancaster, Ohio, September 27, 1864. 
 
 . . You will go out to Mt. Pleasant, and stand where 
 your mother did when a young girl, and thought the view so beau- 
 tiful. All my young companions of that walk are gone from earth, 
 I suppose 
 
 Would you like to write to H., and tell him of the confirmation, 
 and your wishes for yourself and your brother? I merely suggest 
 this, darling; do not think you ought to do it unless you feel like 
 it. I hope and pray, and do believe your decision will be blessed 
 to H. and F., though we may not immediately see the good. Let 
 us pray for them. No prayer is in vain it is always answered, 
 though not always in our own way, in our time. 
 
 How did you spend your Sunday? We had two such good ser- 
 mons; in the morning from "There remaineth, therefore, a rest 
 to the people of God." He said, " No face should wear so bright 
 a smile; no step should be so elastic as the Christian's, who walks 
 with such a hope before him." What if he does have "fears within 
 and foes without?" What nerves the soldier in battle, the mariner 
 in tempest, but the hope of rest and peace at last? The weakest, 
 feeblest child of God has Home and Rest secured to him; his 
 Saviour's gift, bought for him by His precious blood. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF HER HUSBAND'S MOTHER, MRS. HARRIET 
 
 LAMB. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., Sept. 26, 1865. 
 DEAREST SISTER: 
 
 You have been wanting to hear from me, I know, since the few 
 lines before the funeral, but it has seemed as if I had no heart to 
 write. This providence has seemed to come so very near us ; Jesus 
 passed by. It has seemed as if we might touch the hem of His 
 garment, and He healed and strengthened and blessed as never
 
 A FELT LOSS. 135 
 
 before; as if we must listen, must consider, must hear, " Arise, for 
 this is not your rest." 
 
 Not an afflictive bereavement; oh, no; there is too much to 
 bless His holy name for; but a very sorrowful one; a sad, sad loss 
 that it would not be right to be insensible over. The whole of her 
 sickness and death, the whole of her chequered pilgrim-way as it 
 is now laid open before us, seemed to take us with her to the very 
 confines of the " Border Land," so that we must cry, "My Father, 
 the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof!" Oh, as with the 
 Prophet of old, we were permitted to "see" so much, so may a 
 "double portion" of her spirit be upon us evermore. May we 
 henceforth look up continually to " The Hills whence cometh our 
 strength;" and in the full belief, "I am a stranger with Thee, and 
 a sojourner as all my fathers were." All my well-springs are in 
 Thee. Wean us from what is perishable, and as prop after prop 
 which has blessed and gladdened our pilgrimage falls, oh may we 
 more and more "dwell in the secret place of the Most High, and 
 abide under the shadow of the Almighty." 
 
 Here no continuing city, journeying unto the place of which the 
 Lord hath said, "I will give it you." 
 
 I have felt this loss as never a loss before ; not stunning and 
 overwhelming as when one of our own dear parents was taken, but 
 a sense of loss. Then, we were all together; now I am away from 
 you all, alone on the "Ocean of life." In myself so weak, so 
 helpless, so utterly incapable of the great charge given me the 
 leading and guiding these eight immortal beings. Oh, it is a sad, 
 sad loss to lose her ceaseless prayers for me and mine, and that 
 interest that is so akin to a mother's, that love that seems so like 
 the same, which only a grandmother can give. This summer she 
 has been more than ever to us all. I fully believe she acted under 
 the sense that she was living her last days, and doing her last work 
 for us. Pages could not tell you of all the beautiful little acts that 
 in this light are now seen. So touching and so tender was her 
 interest in dear H. when he went into the country; such constant 
 questions and counsel given' about him. I was impressed at the 
 time, and said to his father, "Grandma seems somehow to look 
 back and put H. in your place when you went out to meet the 
 world at fourteen years of age. H. is all the time on her heart." 
 And again and again she made errands to see me just to say she
 
 136 GRANDMOTHER'S BLESSING. 
 
 "feared N. was getting discouraged about going east to school;" 
 would not I try to help her keep in courage ; better days would 
 come, etc. etc. I am so glad she took this little one in her arms, 
 and she too has had a grandmother's blessing. All her papers and 
 letters had been looked over, arranged, and marked, "read Jan. 
 1865." Her three volumes of journals memorandums, she called 
 them from 1828 to within four days of her death, had been all 
 read over last Dec. (31), when she adds: "Sat. 3ist. Clear and 
 cold. The last day of the year. When I look back upon the past 
 year, I see much to be thankful for. My Heavenly Father has 
 seen fit to afflict, has taken from me my eldest sister by death, and 
 I have been brought low by sickness, near death to all human 
 appearances, but God in mercy spared me and crowned me with 
 blessings, so mercifully sparing my children, and so mercifully pro- 
 viding for them. I have attended church thirty- eight times, have 
 read many excellent books; many favors and blessings has He 
 bestowed. I desire this night to record my thankfulness and 
 gratitude to my Heavenly Father for every blessing to me and my 
 children. Oh, may we all begin the new year with an humble 
 dependence on His love, trusting in His mercy and goodness for 
 time and eternity. Amen. 
 
 Have read my Bible through by course (precious Bible), and 
 have read 3030 pages of other reading. 
 
 Saturday evening, loP. M., 1864." 
 
 "1865, Sunday morning. Clear and cold. Attended church, 
 but, oh, the disappointment ! was taken ill and helped out of 
 church. My poor shattered frame seems tottering. May my 
 Heavenly Father spare me for every event of His Providence." 
 
 The remainder of the letter lost. 
 
 [She died on Monday, Sept. 4th, at 3 o'clock P. M.]
 
 GRACIOUS PROTECTION. 137 
 
 TO HER HUSBAND, while on a business trip in New York, Philadelphia, 
 and thence to West Virginia. 
 
 DELAWARE, November 16, 1865. 
 
 You do not know how I did reproach myself for falling asleep 
 just as the omnibus came for you last night. The same heart, but 
 not quite the same body as eighteen years ago ! 
 
 H. and 1 awoke quite early, and had a pleasant little chat about 
 " father." I think he is very much interested and anxious to do 
 in your absence all he can for you in every way. I hope we shall 
 yet have uncommon help and comfort in our boy, notwithstanding 
 all our oft misgivings and sense of our own infirmities. The 
 knowledge of our weakness as parents ought only to bring a bless- 
 ing, for "when we are weak, then are we strong" "in the Lord 
 and in the power of His might." 
 
 Saying good-bye, and locking the door, did not awaken H. 
 How we have followed you! "The angel of the Lord encampeth 
 round about them that fear Him, and delivereth them." Unto 
 His gracious protection we daily commend you. You are safe 
 under his eye, and ever remember "the eye of the Lord is ever 
 upon them who fear Him." 
 
 " The veil of night is no disguise, 
 To screen from Thy all-searching eyes; 
 Through midnight shades Thou find'st Thy way, 
 As in the blazing noon of day." 
 
 So we followed you in your night journeys, feeling you were 
 safe in His holy keeping. May His peace be with you, and save 
 you from all anxiety and fear. 
 
 You will be glad to know we have had prayers this morning. I 
 asked H. if he could not take your place, but "he thought he 
 could not read well enough." I said, then, "but do not you 
 think we ought to have prayers in father's absence?" "Oh, yes," 
 he promptly replied, "certainly." So I took your place.
 
 138 TRUE PROSPERITY. 
 
 TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 DELAWARE, November 17, 1865. 
 
 " He bids His angels pitch their tents 
 Round where His children dwell ; 
 What ills their heavenly care prevents 
 No earthly tongue can tell." 
 
 So it must have been "all for the best" that you were detained 
 at Dunkirk 
 
 Business has been dull ; but never mind ; he has the best pros- 
 perity who rightly enjoys just that success God sends him. "The 
 silver and the gold are mine," He declares. Can He not bestow 
 it just where He pleases? "No good thing does He withhold 
 from them that walk uprightly." So, if wordly prosperity is with- 
 held from us, it must be that it would be an ill to us, and some 
 way a hindrance to us or our children, in the struggle on toward 
 the Heavenly Home. 
 
 November 29, 1865. 
 
 BELOVED HUSBAND: 
 
 Your long, most welcome letter from Baltimore came to-day. 
 How my heart goes with you! "God bless and keep my precious 
 husband!" is ever the prayer. How He has kept you thus far! 
 I know well how much this separation from home has cost you. I 
 could cry over your letter of to-day, so keenly can I feel for you. 
 But with you, I do truly feel you must be "only in the line of 
 duty," and your present steps "ordered by the Lord." 
 
 But I cannot bear to hear of the "ten days more of absence." 
 I, too, should praise the merciful loving-kindness that has softened 
 your absence by causing the voice of joy and health to continue in 
 our household. "To His watchful providence we owe it." la it 
 not only an answer to your prayers that doubtless have gone up un- 
 ceasingly for us? Day by day do we implore, in particular, grace 
 and protection for the beloved absent member of our household. 
 "Direct him in all his ways; defend him from all dangers and 
 adversities; and prosper the work of his hands in the business 
 before him, according to Thy holy will." This is our prayer for 
 you, beloved husband. I hope your mind will be easy about your
 
 NOT A YANKEE WOMAN. 139 
 
 business. Ever remember what a Father we have to trust in. 
 How safe, if He is graciously pleased to take us and all things 
 belonging to us, under His fatherly care and protection. God 
 will "prosper your way," will grant success or disappointment, as 
 
 He knows best for us all I am so sorry you had such 
 
 a cold, forlorn time in old Baltimore. I do not think it a sunny 
 place. It seems, in recollection of "eighteen years ago," a mazy, 
 bewildered sort of city. I would not go back and be the bride of 
 eighteen years ago, rather than the wife of eighteen years, with all 
 their cares and changes. How have these eighteen years tried, 
 tested,, proved the companion, then so new and strange by my side ! 
 How eighteen times dearer is he ! 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON, Honolulu. 
 
 DELAWARE, March 5J 1866. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND: 
 
 One, two, three letters of July, September, and November from 
 you, and not one word of answer written ! But who can tell the 
 unwritten, winged thoughts that have gone to your sunny isle? 
 Just by my side is the sole cause of my silence, wee Clara Thomp- 
 son, sleeping in her crib. I never can do anything with a baby in 
 my arms. You must ever remember / am not a Yankee woman, 
 with the faculty to marshal duties about her, and command her 
 forces so that every duty has its true place, and nothing is left un- 
 done that ought to be done. Some women are born generals for 
 family government, and how splendidly they can rule and reign in 
 their sphere! But alas! that is not /. While I have profound 
 admiration and respect for such, I might as well wish I were the 
 glorious sun, or the gentle moon, or some bright particular star, as 
 to covet their great gift. My duties out-general me completely. 
 Some creep out of sight, and are day by day among the things 
 "left undone that ought to be done." Now this cannot be the 
 sixteen elbows that must be kept in, sixteen knees that must not be 
 let out, or the eighty, no, one hundred, toes that must be covered, 
 etc. etc. So it comes that sisters grieve, and cousin* scold, and 
 friends far over the waters wonder, "Why does not Jeanette 
 write?" With the thermometer marking 11, 12, 15 below zero, 
 it is easy to see what duties must be done.
 
 140 FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY. 
 
 Do you know I celebrated (or the children did) my fiftieth birth- 
 day last week? Now make just as much as you possibly can out of 
 Miss Smith's* romance-description ; I am delighted with it. "'Tis 
 distance lends enchantment to the view;" I am sure not a word 
 of mine shall dispel this enchantment. It is so pleasant to be 
 looked at through her kind, partial eyes. I wonder she could see 
 I was "short and rather stout." Never mind, dear old friend, I 
 guess you and I will know each other even if all Miss Smith's en- 
 chantment falls away, and only a little old lady " short and stout," 
 with spectacles and silver hair, stands before you when we meet 
 face to face. Shall that ever be here? 
 
 The Honolulu Bishop causes ecclesiastical breezes in our beloved 
 church, but I am like the famed bird that seeks to bury her head, 
 and so, of course, I know nothing about these things. If I did, 
 they should not get into my letters to you. They who may next 
 meet in the "happy land," where there are no differences, surely 
 need not fall out by the way, with the great ocean between them. 
 "One faith, one Lord, one baptism," that is enough for common 
 ground between us. 
 
 TO H. P. 
 
 MY DEAR SON: 
 
 As I read the verse of my " Daily Food," this morning, you were 
 so before my mind. It is this, "Whosoever shall confess me before 
 men, him will I confess before my Father which is in heaven." 
 Now, why do not you decide to be on the Lord's side, and 
 "openly renew the solemn promise and vow that was made for 
 you" when a helpless infant you were consecrated to God, and thus 
 confess your Saviour before men, so that at the last great day He 
 will also confess you before His Father and the holy angels? 
 Surely you are not too young? You are not ready? Ah, when 
 will you be more ready? When you are yet nearer manhood? 
 Will you be any nearer God then? God calls you now. The 
 church calls you now. And here your feeble mother's voice calls 
 you to come, "for all things are ready." "Just as you are, 
 without one plea." You can never make yourself better. You 
 
 * From the Sandwich Islands, she visited friends in Delaware, where Mrs. 
 Platt met her.
 
 TO H. P. GODLY COUNSEL. 141 
 
 can never be more ready. My dear boy, the Bishop's visit is a 
 call from God. A call to you. Oh, ask God to help you decide. 
 He never turned away His gracious ear from the feeblest, faintest, 
 cry to Him for help. Say -'Lord, help me to see and do my duty; 
 help me to obey Thy call; wash me and make me clean, and give 
 to me Thy Holy Spirit." 
 
 Long has that blessed Spirit waited at the door of your heart. 
 Many, many times has he spoken in that "still small voice/' "My 
 son, give me thy heart." Oh, listen and follow now as you will 
 wish you had done when you come to die. 
 
 If God spares you to a long life, yet the hour of death will soon 
 come. Then you may look back to this very period of your early 
 youth as the most important moments of your whole life when 
 God set before you Life and Death, and your choice was made 
 forever. 
 
 God will help you. He spared not His own Son, but freely 
 gave Him to die for the chief of sinners. How .He loves you, and 
 longs to take you to His love, and make you truly His own child ! 
 Only be willing; that is all that you can do. Pray to Him in your 
 own room: pray to Him as you "walk by the way;" pray to Him 
 when about your daily work, "Lord, make me to hear and follow 
 Thee." 
 
 You do not need to seek counsel of any earthly friend. God 
 will hear and teach you Himself, and enable you to now so choose 
 Him that "you may continue His forever, and daily increase in 
 His Holy Spirit more and more until you come unto His everlast- 
 ing kingdom." 
 
 MOTHER. 
 
 To MY BELOVED SON H. 
 21 March, 1866. 
 
 TO REV. DR. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, Sunday Afternoon, Jan. 6, 1867. 
 
 MY DEAR OLD FRIEND: 
 
 God has placed dear, loving, sympathizing companions along 
 our pathway, that we may help each other ; and truly it does, as 
 you say, "serve to rest burdens and lift clouds," to sit down 
 and hold converse with them. Distance and time cannot les- 
 sen true friendship ; this is not more trite than true. I also 
 believe people do not jostle together and become friends by
 
 142 S. C. D. MODEL FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 accident. I do love to look back and see His ruling hand in 
 the sweet friendships of my chequered life, always remembering 
 with thankfulness my old friend, "S. C. D." From their ear- 
 liest years my children have heard me speak of this friend of 
 my youth. They are pleased to call it " mother's model friend- 
 ship." Well it is a boon I ask for each of them^ that God will 
 give them just such a friend. Somehow I fancy the present gen- 
 eration cannot find any such friendships warm, pure, and true 
 all the more unselfish and uncommon, because it was without one 
 tinge of "love." My beloved husband and your dear wife can 
 go back and enjoy with us this old friendship of our youth. I say 
 such friendships are rare. I wish S. (Mr. Damon's 'eldest son) had 
 asked me "what kind of relations we are to each other?" I 
 like to answer that question, and am never daunted by the knowing 
 smile that comes to the listener's face. It only proves what I said, 
 that young folks now-a days cannot understand or appreciate such 
 friendships. Perhaps there will never be another " S. C. D.," or 
 " J. H. ;" I guess not. 
 
 How much we all did enjoy S.'s visit ! The children caught 
 the cousinly feeling at the first sight of him. They feel that they 
 shall meet again. I know that he will never come to the States 
 without looking up these " doubtful cousins," as he may consider 
 them. I could not be with him and enjoy his society as I could 
 wish, because my precious babe was so feeble, demanding every 
 thought, filling every moment with such care and sadness, as I can 
 never make you know by words. Only some such experience can 
 show the sorrows, the anxiety, the anguish of my heart over that pre- 
 cious baby's life ! She was never well, never grew, never held up 
 her head, or sat up for a moment ; but lay upon my lap for near thir- 
 teen months, with her tiny hands clasped, as her little sister said, 
 "as if always praying to God." Beautiful folded flower, not to 
 open here, but to bloom and expand in the Paradise of God. "The 
 Lord gave," and I bless Him for His gift. Her feeble, suffering 
 life, only for a moment, had a mission. I trust its sorrows did draw 
 her mother's heart nearer, and yet nearer the one great Sympa- 
 thizer, a link most sweet and blessed. I look back now and 
 wonder how I lived those thirteen months, only as I know His 
 grace was sufficient, and I bless Him for that gift. The Lord gave, 
 the Lord hath taken ; blessed be indeed His holy name. Oh, how
 
 TO S. DAMON. 143 
 
 unceasingly do I rejoice over our tender, helpless lamb, now in 
 the Good Shepherd's bosom. And her precious, beautiful death, 
 with all the household band around her, was made a blessed call 
 to one of the number. "Seek ye my face;" to which his heart, 
 through grace, then responded, "Thy face, Lord, will I seek." 
 
 TO SAMUEL DAMON, SON OF THE REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, January 26, 1867. 
 MY DEAR SAMUEL : 
 
 It seems but the other day since you were with us, and that you 
 may flit back any day. These cousins will ever remember your 
 most pleasant visit, How much you lost in not getting home for 
 the "silver wedding!" My first thought was, "Samuel is not 
 home yet." The account was so pleasantly given, so vivid, we 
 could see it all, and do most heartily join in the kind greetings and 
 best wishes to the honored pair. What a store of shining tokens 
 was showered upon them ! Not more numerous, I trust, than their 
 bright, happy days to come. 
 
 What fine times you and Miss Smith must have in comparing notes 
 of travel over the States ! Please give our love to her ; I hoped 
 to see her relatives here, and ask them for any word for her, but 
 we have been almost snow-bound for several weeks. If you were 
 here now we could give you a taste of one of our sports I guess 
 you cannot enjoy at home, sleighing, sledding, skating, and 
 snow-balling. All over our country there has been more snow 
 than usual, as doubtless you see by the papers. Cousin James, at 
 Williams College, tells us the folks thereabouts have been truly 
 snow-bound, the drifts ten feet high in some places. Your next 
 visit must be in winter. Before the snow the girls and boys had 
 good skating on our river. The mill-pond makes a beautiful skating 
 
 spot. All the cousins mounted skates but little M , and father 
 
 and mother often joined them as lookers-on. I said that was the 
 only thing that made me feel I thought I had lost by being young 
 so many years ago. Girls did not skate then ; I should so have 
 enjoyed that sport. This remark gives the children a look of 
 doubt, but I tell them I was not always such a " fat little woman." 
 
 N , F , J , H , and F are all in school.
 
 144 NOT A PERFECT MOTHER. 
 
 Little M is my constant companion. She says she is in the 
 
 First Reader, and is making a quilt. Cousin F , "the black- 
 eyed charmer," is quite well. She passed the holidays in Cincin- 
 nati with a young friend, on one of those beautiful hills you re- 
 member about that city. She is truly as lovely in mind and heart 
 as she looks, and that is saying a good deal, is it not ? 
 The dinner-bell summons me. 
 
 TO HER BROTHER JOHN HULME. 
 
 Sunday next before Easter, April 14, 1867. 
 
 MY DEAR BROTHER: 
 
 We had "Floating Island" for dinner, and I always call that 
 "Uncle John's dish." We said we wished you could come in and 
 take dinner every Sunday with us, and I laughingly added, "I 
 suppose that is just about as often and as much as he can stand the 
 children" for you must always bear in mind my children are by 
 no manner of means book children, though the youngest wee one 
 can, and at this very moment is saying over the catechism as nicely, 
 almost as if she were fifteen years old, instead, of only five, a month 
 ago. 
 
 I do think you would love them all, yet often be sorely vexed 
 and annoyed with them too. Perfect children have perfect moth- 
 ers. That is what your sister is not. Only think, you have never 
 seen this little M. ! I wish you were sitting with me now, and the 
 door open for you to hear her and her father with the catechism. 
 She is always full of delight when her "turn" comes, and really 
 learns readily. She is such a wee slight child, I often look at her 
 and try to feel the loan may not be for many years. 
 
 F. , the boy you wished "thrown out of the window," is a grand 
 little fellow, as frank and generous by nature as his name implies. 
 His mother's special admiration, as you can see. 
 
 Then comes H., which should be J., for here is the mother all 
 over again. An easy, careless, good natured, unambitious child, 
 just as content at the bottom as at the head of her class. How 
 often she reminds me of my school days at James Taylor's school 
 in the "old Academy," with "M., Lottie," and all the other girls 
 above me, and dear Martha, the youngest, at their head, and I as
 
 RICHES NOT THE BEST BOON. 145 
 
 happy and unconcerned as a butterfly. I do not worry about the 
 ignorant little thing, knowing life may have many sober days for 
 her yet, and some girls do get along without knowing anything 
 scarcely. 
 
 But above her is Miss J., by name but no real "Jeanette" in her. 
 I guess, the prettiest and brightest and may be you would say the 
 worst of the family, with a strong, mighty will for good or evil, 
 and about as comfortable for me to undertake to rear and train as 
 it would be easy for a mouse to "raise" an elephant. Yet she is 
 a wonderful child to depend upon and take comfort in, I assure 
 you when she pleases to be "a good girl." 
 
 F. is "Uncle John," and has developed his musical talents. 
 Just out of babyhood he could keep "time" on a drum most won- 
 derfully, if it deafen his hearers. An old violin fell into his hands, 
 and now he is taking a few lessons, "the best player in town!" and 
 music is the talent of this town. I should observe that this new 
 stranger teacher is very anxious to get a class, and can promise 
 much more, I guess, than he can perform. 
 
 You have drawn "The Admiral." Dear boy, I ask no "promo- 
 tion" for him but the honor that cometh from above. That God 
 may bless and keep him, and "deliver him from evil," and fit him 
 for His work, whatever that may be. 
 
 We were so much pleased and obliged for your kind interest 
 and nice talk with the Bishop about Annapolis, etc. How I do 
 wish you could run down to that old city and see H. Mr. P. 's 
 description of the old houses, quiet streets, old church and church 
 ways, made me think it must be like Burlington some. In this 
 very letter I would put a note big enough to take you there, 
 
 if . Ah, what an "if" that is! It keeps us out of a new 
 
 house a piano for the girls, which they want "so much" "a pony 
 carriage for father" and a host of other things useless to mention. 
 Yet with this great "if" always about us, tell me where there is a 
 happier family? more richly blessed than we? 
 
 Riches is not the best boon man can have; some men can afford 
 to be made rich nit does not ruin or hinder their pilgrim march. 
 But we must know by this time that riches would not do for us. 
 I mean you and me, dear brother, our family. He has withheld 
 it, and hedged us up from it on every side, seemingly, so that it 
 can never come to us. Why is it? "No good thing will he with- 
 10
 
 146 OBERLIN RECTORY. 
 
 hold," we are expressly told. Why is it? Why but that riches, 
 more or less, would be "no good thing," but an evil for us. Ah, 
 that Father's love we cannot doubt, never never never. 
 
 There" is a little book I want you to get and carefully read for 
 my sake because I like it so much "Goulburn's Thoughts on 
 Personal Religion." Do get it. 
 
 What a long scribbling ! I wonder if you will have patience, and 
 can read it. What did I give you all these nieces' and nephews' 
 pictures for? I am sure I do not know. May be it was to let you 
 see how rich a man you really are. Who can tell how many 
 comfortable firesides, with easy chairs, gown, and slippers, may 
 await "Uncle John"? Then only more and more "trust and not 
 be afraid." 
 
 Your loving sister, 
 
 JEANETTE. 
 
 You see I do not name niece N. with the other children. She has 
 slipped away from childhood almost through girlhood into woman- 
 hood still a very busy school girl, but old enough and c6mpanion- 
 able for any Uncle John. 
 
 With her husband and youngest child she went to Cleveland to 
 attend the Diocesan Convention, stopping at Oberlin, to visit the 
 
 family of Rev. W. C. F , from where this letter to her daughter 
 
 E. was written : 
 
 OBERLIN RECTORY, June 2, 1867. 
 DEAREST DAUGHTER: 
 
 I dare say everything is doing well at home. I never can doubt 
 your real heartfelt interest, if you do seem to forget for a moment 
 sometimes. One reason for this is, that God made your childhood 
 so full of heavy care in helping a weak mother in so many ways, 
 with the very sweetest consideration. I can truly say this, and do 
 fervently pray your future, even down to good old age. if God 
 spares you, may be full of the richest blessing of Him who has 
 said, " It is good for a man to bear the yoke in his youth." 
 
 What a delightful home this is ! Father and I are enjoying every 
 
 moment of our visit At Wellington we stopped a few 
 
 moments to see the B.'s. P. was dressing, but came out at once
 
 VIEWS OF DANCING. 147 
 
 to greet us, with the hearty exclamation, "You darling woman, 
 how glad I am to see you !" . . . 
 
 The eight-mile stage ride was shortened by a talk with an old 
 man who used to attend Mr. French's church, now living in Mis- 
 souri. He spoke very highly of Mr. French. Mrs. F. and Fanny 
 met us with the warmest welcome. The little girls came running 
 after them down the walk, the picture of health. 
 
 What a sweet spot this church and rectory is ; all my anticipa- 
 tions are more than realized in everything. 
 
 S. is at home, and goes to Convention to help his father. He is 
 a fine-looking, manly boy. I like W. very much, such a good, 
 true, intelligent boy, seventeen last March. F. is not fifteen yet. 
 I like her much, too ; indeed I like them all. 
 
 HER VIEWS OF DANCING, AS EXPRESSED IN A LETTER TO 
 HER DAUGHTER E. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, August 14, 1867. 
 MY DEAR DAUGHTER: 
 
 I have thought much, and I hope prayerfully, about your danc- 
 ing, since our last conversation, when you said you had thought 
 the whole matter over, and could go from your closet asking God's 
 presence in a dancing party, and that you did not think it wrong 
 for you to dance. You added, "I want to do what is right, and 
 wish to know my duty." Now, if this is honest, and you really 
 desire to know your duty, as I believe you do, then you will be 
 surely guided. No one ever yet asked wisdom of Him who giveth, 
 upbraiding not, and his petition was not heard. No one ever asked, 
 " Lord, teach me," but he was surely directed, and shown the right 
 way. 
 
 After you had told me you had come to the above conclusion, 
 " having thought the whole matter over," on the afternoon of the 
 day, when by faith you had looked again upon the death and pas- 
 sion of our Saviour, Christ, who did humble Himself, even to the 
 death upon the cross, for us miserable sinners, who lay in darkness 
 and the shadow of death, that He might make us children of God, 
 and exalt us to everlasting life, your words seemed impossible, 
 and most deeply pained me, coming from my own child, one whom 
 I had prayed for and sought to influence aright from her earliest
 
 148 OPPOSED TO DANCING. 
 
 years. How imperfect, vain, useless all my mother-life for her ! 
 In bitterness of heart I could say, "As well, perhaps, for her, if 
 she had been these nineteen years without this mother." 
 
 But I have been comforted. At the "great day" of reckoning, 
 when our own stewardship is given up, it may be remembered, not 
 what I have done, but what I sought to do for my children. 
 
 In looking back to that Sunday afternoon of "thought over the 
 whole matter," I must speak plainly, my dear daughter, and say, 
 the subject was not properly "thought over," with your Bible on 
 your knees, the only true way to go to God for His blessing and 
 guidance. Your heart can answer, you had no opportunity nor was 
 time sought to thus think over your duty; that afternoon was spent 
 
 with , who has been taught opposite views from your mother and 
 
 pastor, hearing her views, and being strengthened in what you 
 hoped was right ; was this seeking to learn your duty from God ? 
 
 I did think I would leave you henceforth to the Great Teacher, 
 and never allude to this subject again ; but father and I, after pray- 
 erful consideration, decided that our duty requires us to request 
 you not to dance. We ask that this amusement may be laid aside, 
 cheerfully, we hope, for our sakes, in respect to -our principles, 
 which we cannot give up; only for so long as we shall live, or you 
 shall live with us. It cannot be very long before we shall be done 
 with our counsel, and you are free to follow your own wishes. 
 
 We may be wrong. Another generation wiser and better may 
 see that these convictions of ours are but old-fashioned notions, 
 and not the will of the Lord. 
 
 It would be much easier now to. think this and yield to my chil- 
 dren's wishes but I cannot. From my childhood I have been 
 taught to believe that dancing was an amusement that belonged to 
 the world's people, and was renounced in Baptism for our children 
 as of the "vain pomp and glory of the world." Such a little cross 
 to take up for Jesus' sake ! For Him who gave His life a ransom. 
 
 " As by the light of opening day, 
 The stars are all concealed ; 
 So earthly pleasures fade away, 
 When Jesus is revealed." 
 
 Defend, O Lord, Thy servant with Thy heavenly grace, that she 
 may continue Thine forever, and daily increase in Thy Holy Spirit 
 more and more until she come into Thy everlasting Kingdom.
 
 LIFTS AND HELPS. 149 
 
 TO HER HUSBAND IN NEW YORK. 
 
 October 8, 1867. 
 
 We are getting on surprisingly. I am almost rested. Many 
 little "lifts" and "helps" have come to me in a nice visit on Sat- 
 urday evening from Mrs. K. , and the call on Hattie G., a chat in 
 the street with M. L. and Mrs. T., and a call yesterday upon Mrs. 
 R. She was at my side at the ' Lord's Table" on Sunday, and I 
 felt drawn to tell her how glad I was she was able to get out. She 
 spoke so feelingly of the little book "Loving Clmst" I had 
 given her, and said I could not know how much good that book 
 had done. She had loaned it first to Mrs. C., then to that poor 
 lingering sick youth D., who read it, sent it back, and then went 
 again for it, saying he wanted to commit some of it to memory. 
 I told her he shall have it, and I would get her another. So will 
 you please go to the A. T. S. and get some and send at once, as 
 Mrs. R. goes on her journey soon. And, then, can't you get me 
 a copy of "Words of Jesus" for her? Buy it as a thank-offering 
 for a safe journey, and send it with the others. 
 
 [A few days previous to the date of this letter her husband had gone to New 
 York, taking with him their daughter E., who remained from home one year.] 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., Sunday Afternoon, Nov. 3, 1867. 
 MY DEAR OLD FRIEND: 
 
 I have not " waited a year before answering your scrap," as you 
 asked that I would not, but much longer than I wished, I assure 
 you; for I laid down yours of June z6th with the intention of 
 writing immediately. All these months have passed, and now I 
 am daring to take holy time in talking with you. Won't you 
 listen? Suppose you have gone into your study for an hour of 
 rest between the day's labors, and I have come in unbidden and 
 seated myself at your table by you, determined for a talk, would 
 you turn me out? For years I thought it very wrong to write a 
 letter on Sunday. Do I now love and honor the day less? I hope 
 not. I often write letters now to my dear absent children or hus- 
 band when from home, and feel this is not wrong in His sight who
 
 150 HILLTOP THE OTHER SIDE. 
 
 made the day for man. "Sunday letters," I tell the children, and 
 always try to make them such; just as we should hold Sunday talk 
 if together. 
 
 Now, if with you to-day, I think the very first thing I should tell 
 you would be why I had not written before. I have been in the 
 kitchen all summer more than at my writing-table. A good ser- 
 vant who had been for years with us in that department, went to 
 be with an invalid mother, and we could fill her place only with a 
 "Topsy" of eleven years. I have written scarcely to my sisters. 
 Our Mary comes back next week, so you may answer this imme- 
 diately, and hope for a reply. 
 
 I have never lost sight of you, if I have said nothing; and there 
 is always special remembrance on the holy day that the Lord will 
 refresh you and yours with His grace, and abundantly own and 
 bless your labor of love "making request with joy." Partakers 
 of the common salvation is a living bond time and distance touch 
 not. I do not know how it is with you, but I feel that / have 
 reached the hilltop, and am going down the other side. May be 
 you are only on the top, you speak of such unbroken health and 
 vigor. So I want to tell you this side of the hill is just as pleasant 
 as the other. Morning has its freshness and beauty, but evening 
 has the glory of the day; and this side of the hill has all that sunset 
 glory. Gleams from the Golden Shore, I think it must be. I have 
 always admired old age and everything that was its type. When 
 we reach fifty years I think we can begin to spell out for ourselves 
 the meaning of that period of life, and can guess its joys and sor- 
 rows, its helps and comforts. Slow learners we are of all the les- 
 sons of life, even under such a Teacher. Yet if He be our Master 
 we do learn, "increase in the knowledge of Him." Ah, it is this 
 which shortens the way, that makes the heart warmer and brighter 
 as years increase. In youth we may believe in Him, trust Him ; 
 but we do not know Him as in later years. When the burdens, cares, 
 and sorrows, the sins we find in ourselves, and the imperfection in 
 all about us, have made us lean on Him, and turn to Him for sym- 
 pathy and help then we begin to taste the riches of His grace, as 
 the young pilgrim never can. 
 
 You see in church papers all the church news, and much to make 
 the heart sad. "Ritualism" how sad ! But I am not turned from
 
 PRAYER BOOK APPRECIATED. 151 
 
 my faith in my church; though I would rather, much rather, turn 
 back to Quakerism than go to Ritualism. 
 
 Give my love to Samuel ; tell him he owes me a letter. He said 
 when he became rich he should return and live in the United 
 States; so I may expect to see him again. Indeed, I feel as if I 
 should see you all at my fireside; if not, a little while and we meet 
 on "the other side." 
 
 TO HER DAUGHTER E., WHILE ON A VISIT TO NEW YORK. 
 
 DELAWARE, Christmas week, 1867. 
 DEAREST DAUGHTER : 
 
 Every letter, with its account of your visit, has been enjoyed 
 more than I can tell. I don't really believe you have had more 
 pleasure than I; even your "details" paid three times for sparing 
 you 
 
 And now about our Christmas. F. and S. came Tuesday P. M., 
 and we all went to church in the evening, even F. and M. The 
 church was prettily dressed ; the service, of course, was perfect, 
 
 and Mr. Ufford's sermon was most excellent. Mr. P came a 
 
 few days before, and sat with us the preceding Sunday. On Christ- 
 mas day he was present, and joined us in the communion. He 
 says, that little Prayer Book I gave him after his wife's death was 
 just what he wanted. He had never seen one before, almost all 
 his ancestors being Congregational preachers. He had studied it 
 with the Bible, bought another for his little son of eight years, and 
 in the last three months, lying on his sick bed, had taught him the 
 Creed, Confession, and Collects. In all my life I never heard such 
 intelligent appreciation of our Prayer Book as from this man who 
 had never seen one before, or been in an Episcopal church six 
 months ago. It had been years since he had regularly attended 
 the house of God, nursing his invalid wife, and not fully satisfied 
 with the Congregational Church, of which he was a member ; but, 
 through his wife's death, and that little Prayer Book, the Blessed 
 Spirit has been pleased to awaken him to newness of life and fresh 
 purposes to follow Christ. Away from any ministers or church, he 
 learned what was expected of an Episcopalian, and began to read 
 to his relatives (good Baptist and Presbyterian people) the daily 
 lessons and family prayer, as ordered in the Prayer Book. I was
 
 152 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 
 
 so glad I had never written to him one word about our Church or 
 Prayer Book, but our letters had been touching personal religion 
 only, for it is manifest no human influence has directly moved him; 
 neither can I tell how I came to think of sending that little Prayer 
 Book as a reminder of one who was so much with his departed wife, 
 only that it was the ordering of the Lord. I felt great pity for him, 
 but knew nothing of what I have told you when I said, "Bring 
 
 Mr. , and come to church, and then come home with us and 
 
 pass the rest of Christmas day." He said, " I will ;" so he joined 
 us at dinner, and Mr. G. G., of N. Y., who is so kind to his old 
 mother. He is not quite well, and is on a visit here. Mrs. S. 
 came and cooked our dinner, so I could go to church comfortably. 
 Our party only numbered seventeen to dinner. Mr. C. and Kitty, 
 and all the G.'s, Judge M. and sister joined us at supper, making 
 twenty-one. But F. and A. helped, and with a good cook I have 
 had less care and a more "merry" Christmas day with the little 
 ones. They carried the old folks with them, and you never saw 
 games "go off" as ours did, with Dr. G., Mr. P., and your father 
 and mother in the midst of the fun. J. and I slipped out and fixed 
 the supper table. You know I always call it the " remnant supper," 
 but this time it was made fresh by a splendid basket of grapes in 
 the centre, brought by Kitty C. as her Christmas present. Mrs. 
 I. sent over a beautiful iced citron-cake, which we highly orna- 
 mented with red drops and bits of uncle W.'s candy gift. The 
 cake basket was full of jelly-cake, doughnuts, citron-cake, and fruit- 
 cake, Mrs. I. sent over ; a dish of candy, one of nuts and figs ; 
 custard from dinner, cranberry jelly, etc. etc. ; turkey remnants, 
 
 etc. The table was beautiful Harry M., too, was 
 
 here. And then there was in one corner a table full of right little 
 ones, who did so enjoy the evening. It was a very happy Christ- 
 mas. Somehow you and dear H. did not seem quite away, but 
 present all day; constantly before us in our prayers through all 
 the services, and with us in the home circle too. I seemed to be 
 able to give you both up to His holy keeping, greatly helped 
 through sister E.'s sweet picture, which I first saw at midnight the 
 night before. 
 
 There had not been a moment all day, but as soon as the com- 
 pany had all gone I brought the " little book," and, though it was 
 near n o'clock, even M. stopped to hear cousin F. read it in her
 
 HONOR THE LORD. 153 
 
 rich, sweet voice. It proved too much for M., who sobbed aloud 
 in my lap. Thank Ellen, and tell her I think the children will 
 not forget it. 
 
 The picture is full of high and holy sentiment. It is framed and 
 hangs in our new dining-room 
 
 i r P. M. Mr. P y has been here again this evening. I wish 
 
 you could hear him talk about our church. Just what the Prayer 
 Book has taught him. He seems so full of comfort and satisfaction 
 in all he sees in her spirit and offices. "This I like about your 
 church," said he ; " it cannot matter a rushlight who or what kind 
 of a preacher reads your service, you can worship God just the 
 same." 
 
 Give my love to H., and a mother's best Christmas 
 wishes. I hope, indeed I feel, that you did both meet us on that 
 day at the Lord's table. I give you both to Him and His care, 
 rejoicing in the assurance that "though an host should encamp 
 against you," with God on your side, I fear no evil. 
 
 TO E. WHILE VISITING RELATIVES ON LONG ISLAND. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., May 4, 1868. 
 
 C . Just one little verse seems to run through my mind 
 
 in answer to a portion of your letter: "I would rather be a door- 
 keeper in the House of my God than to dwell in the tents of wick- 
 edness. " It is, no doubt, very unpleasant to go to a church a 
 stranger "without a seat;" but it is infinitely better than to stay 
 away. Indeed, darling, God must have some special object in 
 these little circumstances that He has permitted now to surround 
 your path ; some purpose of love. Now He is proving you and 
 testing just how much His feeble Lamb cares for her Shepherd's 
 voice, and the ordinances of His house. 
 
 "He that honoreth me I will honor," declares our lesson for this 
 morning. If you are only enabled to leave but this testimony: 
 that God's house and law are dearer to you than any earthly good; 
 that you would rather "be a doorkeeper" take the meanest, low- 
 est seat in His courts than ever to be shut out and numbered with 
 those "without." Then my dearest daughter has "Honored" 
 Him, and He will honor that testimony by making it a blessing to 
 those about her eternal good flowing from this visit of her twen- 
 tieth year.
 
 154 GRATITUDE FOR MERCIES. 
 
 BIRTHDAY LETTER TO HER DAUGHTER E. IN NEW YORK. 
 
 DELAWARE, O. (Aug, 9. 
 9th Sunday after Trinity, Aug. 9, 1868. 
 MY OWN DEAR CHILD: 
 
 I cannot make out twenty years since dear grandma first laid my 
 tiny daughter in my arms. Twenty years ! Twenty years of mer- 
 cies so unnumbered, so unacknowledged ! With thanksgiving would 
 I remember the Divine loving One that has so far "brought up" 
 my frail tender babe to woman's estate; for the pain, sorrow, and 
 death she has escaped, for all the evil that has been kept from her; 
 for, above all, beyond all, that I trust He has revealed Himself to 
 her, "called her by His grace," and begun in her His own most 
 blessed work which should be in her as the "shining light which 
 shineth more and more unto the perfect day ;" for the blessing she 
 has been to her mother; for the love and care, the example of 
 patience to her brothers and sisters; for the days of weary care 
 which her unselfish devotion and tender consideration cheered; 
 for the "times of sickness" brightened by her presence; the bur- 
 dened nights shared beyond her strength; for all, all she has been 
 to us, I thank the Giver. 
 
 You have been very much in our hearts, dearest daughter, on 
 this your first birthday away from mother. When the result and 
 meaning of all the appointments of this life shall appear, as it will 
 one day, then may this present separation show a blessing gained ; 
 a blessing from Him who declareth "When thy father and mother 
 forsake thee, then the Lord will take thee up." 
 
 May every lonely feeling have been made the Good Shepherd's 
 call "come to me;" may you have learned more of that "Friend 
 who sticketh closer than a brother," than you ever knew before; 
 telling Jesus everything. The more frequently we go to Him, the 
 more intimately we shall know Him; and the more intimately we 
 know Him, the more we shall love, serve, and become like Him. 
 Oh, whatever leads you to go more to Him, to become more inti- 
 mately confiding with Him, is the blessing of your life. 
 
 We sent a little book as a birthday token, which I hope you have 
 received. Father said after dinner, I must write to N. Of course 
 my full heart was ready for a word with you, as this sheet now 
 
 shows. 
 
 Your loving, grateful 
 
 MOTHER.
 
 COUNTRY COUSINS., 155 
 
 TO HER DAUGHTER E. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., August 23, 1868. 
 nth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 How near you are brought by the collect for the day as your 
 "weekly remembrance" comes round. Not that each child is not 
 daily remembered; how earnestly the petition went up this morn- 
 ing to "Him who declarest his Almighty power chiefly in showing 
 mercy and pity," that He would grant unto our absent child such 
 a measure of His grace, that she, running the way of His com- 
 mandments, may obtain His gracious promises and be made par- 
 taker of His heavenly treasures through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Absent or present, this is the fulness of all we ask for each child. 
 
 When I opened my portfolio, I found this little scrap "At 
 Evening," so pretty and in harmony with your selection from 
 "Each day a little life, fresh from the Master's hand." 
 
 FROM A LETTER TO E. AND J. WHO WERE VISITING 
 FRIENDS IN COLUMBUS. 
 
 DELAWARE, December 28, 1868. 
 
 . . . . It is very pleasant to think of you both as having 
 such a grand time ; a full payment for sparing you. Tell J. I can 
 well imagine the enjoyment of the opera music, and your mother's 
 old song ; ' Robin Adair." That simple air brings back many 
 years of my girlhood. Your Aunt Martha and I sang it up and 
 down the house with hearts as young and gay as yours are now. 
 
 I want you to get a great deal of gladness and cheer to bring 
 back with you from all the bright Columbus cousins. 
 
 Always claim and keep your own true ground as "the country 
 cousins." They are not expected to know "city ways." Remem- 
 bering this will give you ease and comfort wherever you are ease 
 which comes from a mind unruffled and a heart at "Peace." 
 
 In the month of June, 1869, Mrs. Platt had the pleasure of en- 
 tertaining her old and warm-hearted friends, Rev. Dr. Damon and 
 wife, with their son Frank, from Honolulu, and, at the same time, 
 the Rev. Dr. Canfield, her brother-in-law. 
 
 The mutual enjoyment afforded by this visit, the brilliant and 
 deeply interesting conversation, the pleasant reminiscences of past
 
 156 A MOTHER'S MEMENTO. 
 
 years, the genial manners of Dr. Damon, his stories of Sandwich 
 Island life where he had then been for some thirty years, cannot 
 be described, but may be faintly inferred from the correspondence 
 with him. 
 
 So intense was Dr. Damon's enjoyment of this visit, that he would 
 often jump up from his seat and walk around at a lively pace to give 
 vent to his exuberance of feeling; his happiness seemed to be com- 
 plete. 
 
 It was indeed to them "The feast of reason and the flow of 
 soul." 
 
 BIRTHDAY LETTER TO E. 
 
 AT HOME, Aug. 9, 1869. 
 MY DEAREST DAUGHTER: 
 
 In church to day your birthday came many times before me, 
 thought going back and stretching forward twenty-one years! 
 God has been very gracious ! The tiny babe that dear grandma 
 said "you can scarcely hope to rear;" then the very little life 
 began of which I so often thought, "twenty years are so long time 
 to come, I shall not live to ever see her twenty-first birthday;" yet 
 how very gracious has God been. It seems as if He has fulfilled 
 all all my petitions for you! With thanks, then, for all His past, 
 I would leave securely all the future with Him. Whether one or 
 both "wake or sleep" when twenty-one more years shall have been 
 numbered, the same infinite love and power and tenderness shall 
 keep us. . "He is faithful that promised." There is One knows 
 all my thoughts and wishes for you. I wanted to write these few 
 words for you to put away as a little memento of mother and your 
 birthday and this Holy communion Sunday. 
 
 Our dear old honored church is just now passing through a 
 "fiery trial" from foes within and without, and papers are tinged 
 with the bitter controversies; but she has withstood more than this, 
 and if her Great Head is with her, if her doctrines and usages are 
 in accordance with His holy word, then she shall stand, even unto 
 the end. 
 
 The older I grow the more and more I love her ways; I believe 
 no church more clearly holds forth "Jesus Christ and Him cruci-
 
 BEST TO FOLLOW DUTY. 157 
 
 fied;" and the more spiritual a mind becomes the more she is un- 
 derstood and loved. 
 
 As to Baptism. The term "regenerate" I do not care one pin 
 am not the least interested in the matter if weak brothers are 
 offended and stumble at its use, better take it away for them ; it 
 can never hurt me. An old Bible and an old English word, used 
 when the modern meaning was not attached to it. It did not then 
 mean renovation, only a change of state or place. 
 
 The Jewish children were admitted into the "old dispensation" 
 through circumcision, our children into the "new dispensation" 
 through baptism. I see no difference. Then and now children 
 were made members of the visible family of God, and promises 
 were sealed to them and made sure if they kept their part of the 
 covenant promised for them by their sureties. 
 
 TO HER HUSBAND IN NEW YORK. 
 
 August 31, 1869. 
 
 Yours from Canton just come ; so sorry you have had headache 
 to trouble your visit. But better there with H. than among strangers 
 in New York. So a loving Providence arranges all our "changes" 
 for us, giving not one needless pain or trial. The " pitifulnes" of 
 His love how little can we measure it ! How wholly may we trust 
 
 it, and not be afraid How always best it is to follow 
 
 on, step by step, in simple, plain duty, leaving God to provide for 
 all result. 
 
 TO H. P. IN MICHIGAN. 
 
 DELAWARE, Easter Evening, April 9, 1871. 
 MY DEAR H. : 
 
 We followed you, and fixed you in Jonesville, and hope soon, 
 
 very soon, to hear from you I was going to say I 
 
 was anxious to know all about the final arrangements you and Gen- 
 eral G. made. But I cannot be anxious, " remembering the spar- 
 rows," as Miss L. M. says. Just look at it: "Are not five spar- 
 rows sold for two farthings ? Yet not one of them is forgotten 
 before God. 'Ye are of more value than many sparrows." Noth-
 
 158 SPARROW DOCTRINE. 
 
 ing, then, that touches the life of an immortal being can be unno- 
 ticed, uncared for, by the one "our Father." This is simply im- 
 possible ; so, my dear boy, I know God cares for you ; that He 
 is "about your path and about your bed," your never-failing 
 Guardian and Guide. Through all the various propositions that 
 have lately perplexed us, to know what was best for you, the one 
 only prayer has been, " Lead him just where Thou wilt be nearest 
 to him, to keep him from evil !" 
 
 J. has just come in with N. and says, " Do tell him to write to 
 me," and so you must. Always remember father, and I will give 
 way for letters between you children. We want you all to be very 
 much to each other, and, as a family, to stand by each other 
 through all the long years to come, when we are gone. 
 
 Your loving 
 
 MOTHER. 
 
 TO L. E. S. 
 
 "HAPPY NEW YEAR." 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, June 2, 1872. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 I must call you that ; what else can I say of one God has led so 
 close to my lonely brother's life, bringing such freshness and 
 pleasant intercourse to him ? 
 
 Having such faith in the "sparrow doctrine," as I call it, I can 
 see no jostling together by chance of human beings immortal. We 
 are never out of our Father's sight and guidance. Nothing can 
 touch our hearts or life and He not see, permit, and mean to 
 bless, if we simply look to and trust in Him. So your friendship 
 at this time for dear brother is from Him. 
 
 John is one that makes much of his friends ; that rare, pure, 
 single-hearted nature, with youth all past, he still remains "an 
 orphan boy" in so many, many things, and God takes care of him 
 as such, I feel very sure, for " He knoweth our frame" and " re- 
 membereth." Dependent and burdened ones He keeps closest in 
 His care. 
 
 But I want to thank you for your letter, and the frank, free man- 
 ner with which you take me as an old friend. A little, undignified 
 body, as I am, can appreciate no other style.
 
 WOMAN'S LOVE. 159 
 
 Despite the disavowal, I do assume that a young man, right- 
 minded and true-hearted, is, at twenty-five, somewhat concerned in 
 matrimony; for, unless a loving Father has laid some barrier across 
 his path, or filled his hands and heart with care of other loved 
 ones, surely he must be waiting and watching for his Eve. Yes, 
 Eve. Does not God love and care for man's wants now? Re- 
 deemed and brought back to Him by the blood of Jesus, are we 
 not the objects of His tenderest care ? You will smile, but I be- 
 lieve there are Sarahs, Rebekahs, Rachels, and Ruths now upon 
 the earth whom God has selected, fitted, and holds waiting for His 
 bidding, for that state in life to which it shall please God to call 
 them. 
 
 Oh, if woman had not this anchor of trust and faith, could she 
 ever take that one step that seals her happiness or misery for life? 
 For 
 
 " How strong and beautiful is woman's love, 
 That, taking in its hand the joys of home, 
 The tenderest melodies of tuneful years, 
 Yea, and its own life also, lays them all, 
 Meek and unflinching, on a mortal's breast; 
 Reserving naught, save that unspoken hope 
 Which hath its rest in God." 
 
 If you have read "Pink and White Tyranny," I think you will so 
 feel with "John" strong, true, but poor deluded "John" that you 
 will see how a man needs God's help when looking for his Eve. 
 
 The book has its faults, but is, I think, a true picture of married 
 life, where a man has blindly followed his mere fancy the end of 
 many a "falling in love." "Poor John." If you were sitting 
 here I could tell you just where I think he began his mistakes and 
 missteps that led to such dreadful shipwreck. He belonged to 
 "the people of God." Two cannot walk together happily long, 
 unless they are agreed. No woman can be in her homelife all she 
 ought to be, unless God be her helper. It is impossible. It was 
 due John's blessed Master to make sure that " Lillie" loved Him; 
 that was the first duty. How can a man or woman step on heaven- 
 ward, with his closest clinging companion's face turned the other 
 way? Do you say that miserable Lillie would have deceived him 
 and "put on religion" to gain her end ? I cannot think so. John 
 had an unseen Friend too near. One who never permits an ill to
 
 l6o TRUE MARRIAGE. 
 
 come to those who wholly put their trust in Him. Now, I do not 
 say that He never permits a sorrow, or pain, or trial. Remember, 
 He holds our complete history in His hand, and He has placed each 
 one in this brief life on probation for discipline. No doubt many 
 a soul has been prepared for eternal life through the sorrow and 
 pain, the crossed purposes and disappointments of married life. 
 He knows what we each need, what discipline is best, what will be 
 safest, and soonest fit us for our Home above. 
 
 The one great truth golden truth brought out in "Pink and 
 White Tyranny" (would that it were graven upon every young ear- 
 nest heart ! ) is this : The great object of life is not happiness. And 
 when we have lost our own personal happiness, we have not lost 
 all that life is worth living for. No, the very best of life often 
 lies beyond that". When we have learned to let ourselves go, then 
 we may find that there is a better, a nobler, and a truer life for us. 
 
 .Of one thing, "Friend L.," be very sure: There is One who 
 tenderly cares for our happiness here with infinitely more than the 
 most loving mother's care. If we do "acknowledge Him in all 
 our ways, He will direct our paths." This is His own promise 
 that has never failed. Through pain, disappointment, and the 
 darkest earthly trial, our happiness will be safe. He will see to 
 that. 
 
 And when He has brought about your heart and life the circum- 
 stances that seek a close companion, He will "provide," and guide 
 your every step, if you commit all to His hands. And He only 
 can help. Our own or another's wisdom may utterly fail. The 
 "little step" is a fearful venture; with all the light we can, by 
 closest intercourse before marriage, gain, there is, must be, utter 
 ignorance. There may be a few years, perhaps, of "smooth sail- 
 ing," but every life has its stormy days of peril sooner or later, 
 when the one close companion is tested and tried. 
 
 I do not believe any "union of hearts and hands" is truly blessed, 
 that has not God's blessing upon it. So our dear old church en- 
 joins all persons to look at this subject "reverently, discreetly, 
 advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God." True marriage 
 should be the "dwelling together as fellow-heirs of the grace of 
 life." 
 
 Now what can I say, why all this long, long New Year's letter 
 goes to you, so unstudied, so free, as if to a young brother? Again
 
 AN OLD PILGRIM'S WORDS. 161 
 
 I say, God only can help and guide when two seek to put on " that 
 harness which the minister of death alone unlooseth, and whose 
 power doth aid or mar the journey of the soul to heaven." 
 
 If an old pilgrim's words ever can give a gleam of light, do 
 write to 
 
 Your old true friend, 
 
 J. H. PLATT. 
 
 ii
 
 1 62 TRIP TO NEW YORK. 
 
 XV. 
 
 "As in water, face answereth to face, so the heart of man to man." 
 
 Goes East with Mrs. McC. A loving arrangement ^Congenial spirits St. Bar- 
 nabas House, N. Y. Atlantic City The wide, wide ocean Delightful meet- 
 ing of friends W. J. Allison The Dewdrop Miss Harland, her former 
 Bible-class teacher Hulmeville Boat ride on the Neshaminy Up the Hud- 
 son Mott Farm, Highlands A picture Giving pleasure. June to September, 
 1872. 
 
 [MONDAY, June 17, Mrs. Platt started for New York, met 
 Mrs. McCabe at the station, who was also going without an escort. 
 The two were mutually pleased at the happy providence that thus 
 made them companions for the journey. Mr. P. went with them 
 as far as Crestline.] 
 
 TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 NEW YORK, June 20, 1871. 
 
 The night you left me at Crestline I did so want to run after 
 you, and say "a good good-bye" in the hall, and not in kind 
 Mrs. McCabe's presence. If I had been sure that I could find you, 
 I believe I would have tried. We heard the cars go out that car- 
 ried you away. I was so glad you were there, and had kindly 
 waited to see us "all fixed." We did not sleep very much, but 
 rested, and at 3 A. M. were up dressing, and all ready for the 4 
 o'clock cars. The morning was so lovely ! Indeed, that whole 
 day of car ride was beautiful beyond description ! To see sunrise 
 and sunset upon the mountains, those grand old "^everlasting 
 hills !" Was it not a loving arrangement that made one so con- 
 genial as Mrs. McCabe my companion ? There was such perfect 
 unison in our enjoyment of everything. 
 
 We were detained near Wooster two hours, "a freight train off 
 the track." I went into a roadside house and had my tea-bottle
 
 A CHARMING HOME. 163 
 
 filled with milk ; so we had a good breakfast. We supposed the 
 detention would break connection, and give us hours at Pittsburg ; 
 but no, a "special car" took us right on without waiting even for 
 dinner (" twenty minutes"). Mrs. McC. went out and brought in 
 some large strawberries, rolled in sugar ; I never saw finer ones. 
 So our dinner was delicious. 
 
 It was dark when we reached Altoona. By that time our heads 
 
 were tired out looking at beautiful views I kept little 
 
 Kittie such a sweet, good child and Mrs. McCabe went into the 
 supper-room and brought a pitcherful of hot tea, and such biscuits 
 as are only found in that "mountain home." So we were re- 
 freshed, and soon after "settled" for the night 
 
 At 3 A. M. we were awakened by some one asking for New 
 York, or Philadelphia? and the Philadelphia ones were hurried 
 out in the last car, and that was the last I saw of dear little sleeping 
 Kittie and her mother. 
 
 At 6.30 we were in Jersey City, and sister E. stood waiting on 
 the New York side. The last few hours' ride was full of weari- 
 ness; but, with E.'s cheering face, and a good breakfast brought 
 to my bed, I was very much rested, and to-day begin to feel some- 
 what like myself. You may laugh, but I am charmed with sister 
 E.'s home and the whole household arrangements, her wonderful 
 children, her sweet, young helpers, all, everything. I do not 
 wonder N. lost her heart here, at all. Nobody had told me anything 
 about this Home. 
 
 FROM MRS. PLATT TO MRS. McCABE. 
 
 NEW YORK, Saturday, A. M., 304 Mulberry St. 
 
 MY DEAR MRS. McCABE : 
 
 I missed you and dear little Kitty very much. Is it not wonder- 
 ful what one presence, one titled personage, can bring us? Honor 
 and comfort seemed to depart with my friend's separation. The 
 New York conductor was not at all impressed by my "long journey 
 ticket;" and though, I believe, the only lady left, I seemed evi- 
 dently but an ordinary, lonely old person in his august eyes. So 
 I was left to count up just how tired my heart was, until I saw my 
 dear sister's patient face waiting for me on the New York shore, at
 
 164 SEED TIME. 
 
 6 o'clock. I can never think of our brief journey together but 
 as days full of God -sent mercy and comfort, " the sure provision" 
 of Him who knew just my need for heart, soul, and body, out of 
 all the world of human beings, selecting for companion just the one. 
 
 You speak of the cool Philadelphia breezes. What can I say 
 as tribute to this sea-air and night-breeze ? In comparison Ohio 
 nights seem one smother. 
 
 I am much, very much, pleased with this dear sister's work for 
 the Master, such pure, true, unselfish life-work for the "poor 
 always with us." If the heat will permit, cannot you call and look 
 over this institution when in New York ? I may go to New Jersey 
 next week, hoping to return and finish my visit hereafter. What 
 will be your address at the end of four weeks ? With kiss to dear, 
 sweet Kitty, 
 
 Affectionately, 
 
 J. H. PLATT. 
 
 / 
 
 ST. BARNABAS HOUSE, N. Y., June 23, 1872. 
 
 MY OWN DEAR HUSBAND : 
 
 How thought was turned back' to you and each dear child 
 separated from me to-day. May God, our own covenant-keeping 
 God, hold each beloved one in His safe and holy keeping ! 
 
 I suppose you are going over your usual Scripture reading about 
 this time. This morning I had the Old Women's Bible Lesson in 
 the "sewing-room." I think all the work is blessed here. All 
 must bring a blessing upon giver and receiver, if done unto Him 
 and in His name. I have not been out of the house; these have 
 been just days of blessed rest. I love the services with these poor 
 women and children, gathered in to partake of the feast of the 
 " glad tidings." Oh, what sowing of the seed it all seems ! seed 
 that cannot perish, but must spring up, bud, and bloom in many 
 and many a heart to life eternal. God's blessing rest upon this 
 mission of love to His poor ! 
 
 These little children are wonderful ; how they interest me ! I 
 want to send them off some of them are so sweet to those who 
 have no children. How well they behave ! their interest in the 
 service is so heartfelt ; the wee-est ones singing away ; each chant 
 the Te Deum, too, with little, folded hands, with all their might
 
 AN OLD TRUE FRIEND. 165 
 
 their singing so sweet and full ! Some of them only three and a 
 
 half years old A little boy of eight or nine years 
 
 came in from the street this morning and stood just before m 
 during service. Every place did he find, and every chant sing with 
 all his might. 
 
 BURLINGTON, N. J., July i, 1872. 
 MY PRECIOUS HUSBAND : 
 
 I was so glad to get your letter of the 2yth on Saturday eve. 
 . . . My Sunday was very much as the last in Delaware, 
 just resting, my head not able to go to church in the burning sun. 
 Was better toward evening ; went with Jane, and sat in the same 
 little Presbyterian church where Martha and I sat side by side so 
 often, "testifying" against " Puseyism" (Ritualism) 
 
 A good night's sleep has made me myself again this morning. 
 Oh, I was so homesick all yesterday ! Such a heart-longing for 
 you, my own precious husband, and all the dear children. You 
 are ten thousand times more to me than "Eastern friends." Still, 
 I think it was right to come now. God will overrule this sum- 
 mer's visit, and count it among the "all things" that "work 
 together for good." .... 
 
 To-day came this letter from Miss Harland. I think I shall 
 accept her invitation. I long to try the ocean breezes upon this 
 poor head, and is not this present opportunity laid at my door ? 
 
 [Miss Harland was in former days her Sunday-school teacher, 
 and ever after a firm, true friend. The scholar was the first to 
 enter the " heavenly rest," the teacher following soon after. Miss 
 Harland died in Philadelphia. 
 
 Mrs. Platt went to Atlantic City, as the guest of Miss Harland, 
 in company with her sister S. and cousin J. A.] 
 
 ATLANTIC CITY, July 3, 1872. 
 
 Wanting to get a letter to you I have left my bed a little after 3 
 o'clock this morning, hoping, too, to see an ocean sunrise. . . . 
 My room has the sunset sweep. 
 
 A full view of the wide, wide ocean ! . Who can guess its glory, 
 its soulful meaning, its resting power ! . . . . We arrived 
 here at n o'clock. How glad Miss Harland was ! You should
 
 1 66 THE DEWDROP. 
 
 have seen her delight over your wife, so glad, so glad I was not 
 at all like my picture, " not changed one bit ; the same face ; the 
 
 same expression," etc. etc Tell Mrs. Tuttle my old 
 
 friend, W. J. Allison, is here, friend Gurney's guest, who has a 
 cottage. He is only a wreck of my old friend, all from two 
 strokes of paralysis. Jane and I called to see him last evening. 
 What a favor to get here ! How much good has been planned out 
 for this visit ! Our Father's love, who can measure it? 
 
 ATLANTIC CITY, July 7, 1872. 
 
 I began this, so far as date, yesterday, in answer to your good, 
 long letter of last Sunday! I was so delighted to hear all about your 
 Sunday with A. and M. F. How nicely "our girls" do ! I read 
 most of your letter to Miss Harland. She thinks there are not many 
 
 girls equal to ours. We are sure of this fact I can 
 
 imagine Dr. Ufford's good sermon upon " My peace I give unto 
 you." I have heard nothing of preaching, since I left home, at 
 all to be compared to our pasture food at home. I doubt if, in all 
 the country, there are many better preachers than ours 
 
 A little party from Burlington, W. J. Allison and family, joined 
 us here on Saturday. He and wife are "approved preachers" in 
 the Society of Friends. He was brother James's schoolmate and 
 friend; and his wife "the Dewdrop," as he has always called 
 her is a most winning and lovely woman. I remember her as the 
 pretty little Quakeress bride, long years ago. They invited us in 
 to a " reading of the Scriptures," Saturday morning. A chapter 
 was read most beautifully ; and then, after a silence of a few mo- 
 ments, Rebecca (the wife) kneeled by her husband's side (he a 
 great invalid, in an easy chair), and, laying her hand on his, she 
 " poured out her heart in supplication and praise." Miss Harland 
 and J. and others were present. It was "good to be there. '' 
 
 July 8, 1872. 
 
 Yesterday Miss Harland and I went to our church. The service 
 was so pleasant and refreshing. Gathered from all parts of our 
 country, yet all meeting and joining in our common service "with 
 one accord," as if brethren of one household, children of one 
 Father, coming unto Him through the same "household words."
 
 HOMESICK. 167 
 
 [Returned to Burlington, July 9th, with J.] 
 
 I do think the sea-air and bathing helped me, but the expense 
 was too great. If you can find time to go to Martha's Vineyard I 
 would rather save now, that we may go together there, our 
 "silver wedding" trip, you know. And now will try to finish up 
 peeps at old friends. I am so glad and thankful that you all are 
 so good in trying to get on so nicely "without mother." This 
 thought is half the pleasure of my visit. 
 
 HULMEVILLE, July l6, 1872. 
 
 Your letter and dear H 's came last Saturday, just as I was 
 
 leaving for Pennsylvania. Is not the dear boy a comfort? and 
 that is not half a word to tell what he is to us. And, best of all, 
 we cannot see and feel his sense of what he owes his earthly parents, 
 and not believe that the same strength and "help" that have given 
 to him this appreciation, will draw him more and more to his one 
 Eternal Father in heaven 
 
 Yesterday, early after breakfast, Charley, Winnie, and Carrie 
 H. took me a boat-ride up this beautiful creek, Neshaminy, in a 
 little row-boat with white awning over it. We floated along up the 
 stream, under hanging trees, two miles ; then climbed up some rocks, 
 and saw such a miniature cascade as our children never saw. From 
 somewhere a hillside spring comes tumbling down a ravine from 
 broken rock to rock, dashing, splashing, gushing over mossy 
 stones, drooping ferns, and little "teaberry" vines. Always run- 
 ning away, until held still by Jack Frost in midwinter. Now, all 
 this sounds perfect in beauty. But what moment or scene is per- 
 fect in enjoyment ? I hope these dear children the willing, toil- 
 ing rower thought cousin Jeanette did most heartily enjoy her 
 ride ; -and so she did, in a sense, but I never was so wholly home- 
 sick in my longing for some of my own far home ones as I was 
 when gliding up that beautiful stream. I just kept saying, over and 
 over, "How he, my own dear husband, >how they, my own dear 
 children, would have enjoyed this ride !" 
 
 One thing, I think, is very certain, I will never visit alone again. 
 It does not, cannot pay.
 
 1 68 TRUE PLEASURE. 
 
 MOTT FARM, HIGHLANDS, N. J., Aug. 6, 1872. 
 
 . . . . Do you remember my pet "piece," from Appleton's 
 Journal, "Berkshire Glorified?" Well, I have seen it all, and 
 actually "made the picture" that headed the article (a lady re- 
 clining upon her elbow on a couch, looking out upon the loveliest 
 landscape). Never were so beautiful views, as are all over this 
 Highland farm beside the Hudson. But sunshine and shadow go 
 together. The strong breeze upon the boat, coming up the river 
 last Thursday (August i), gave me a cold, and without being, per- 
 haps, actually sick, I have been upon the bed until a few hours 
 ago this evening, and have gone through all the Western and Eastern 
 remedies, closing with quinine 
 
 Well, I am so heart-full of thankfulness to be well again. The 
 very least possible ill was permitted to come to me from such ex- 
 posure ; I am sure of this. And such good, loving nursing as I 
 have had here ! But such thoughts of home ! Yet God has ever 
 kept me peaceful in and through all this separation, in the full 
 belief it was His will, and the ordering of His loving providence, 
 that I could have no one of my own precious flock with me on the 
 journey. It is, must be, "all well." 
 
 It does seem and sound dreadfully self-conceited, but I think it, 
 and so say it (as I have ever said all things to you, dear husband) 
 I think this journey has been so pleasant, given so much pleasure 
 to so many, wherever your wife has. been. Yes, I count this first 
 among the gains. I came to give others pleasure, and have been 
 permitted to do so. 
 
 Expect to go back to New York on Tuesday next. 
 
 [Her husband joined her in New York about the first of September, and they 
 passed some two weeks together visiting friends in New York, New Jersey, and 
 Philadelphia, returning home September I3th.]
 
 AN INVITATION. 169 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " The lips of the righteous feed many." 
 
 Letters to Mrs. Maccracken S. C. D. L. E. S. H. P. Death of her brother 
 John Our loved ones who have gone before are still near to us Visit to 
 Toledo George Eliot's books Opinion of other authors A happy home 
 Views of marriage A higher school Old Florence dial, " I count the hours 
 that shine." September, 1872, to December, 1874. 
 
 TO MRS. S. C. MACCRACKEN. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, September 25, 1872. 
 MY OWN DEAR COUSIN : 
 
 MY first exclamation, when I saw your letter, was, " She is in 
 Columbus now; I shall see her !" I think it must have been that 
 very day I had said to my husband, " I think I must see cousin 
 Sarah, if only for one night, so soon as you can spare me the pen- 
 nies to take me to Lancaster." So, when I read that you were in 
 Columbus, I was sure to see you, I thought. Oh, why did not you 
 come? Only an hour's ride ; an easy carriage always at the depot 
 to carry passengers to their places. Dear cousin, I do so want you 
 to see me in my own home once more (a hired house, to be sure, 
 but my home still, and husband and children all my own). Cannot 
 you come? The weather is so lovely now. Let John or Willie 
 bring you to Columbus, and I will meet you at our depot. The 
 change will do you good. If you cannot possibly, then I must go 
 to you for one night. I cannot stay longer, for only think I left 
 them all for three months, less two days ! And they were all so 
 good in trying to do without me ; but I cannot, ought not to leave 
 them again. Yet next week I may be (Wednesday night) in 
 Columbus, in order to attend the wedding of F. S., our niece. Now, 
 if you write me you cannot possibly come this autumn, then, if I
 
 1 70 DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 can find the spare pennies, I think I must run to Lancaster for one 
 little peep at you. But, indeed, I hardly ought to leave home even 
 for so short a visit ; and you ought to come here, if possible. We 
 have open fires, and you shall have a lower room, where you can lie 
 down all you need. Do come. 
 
 You see I am not telling you by letter all about my visit, for I 
 want to see you and tell this face to face. I did not get back until 
 1 7th of September ! When parting from Miss Harland, of Phila- 
 delphia, the day I left (i6th of September), she said, " If I ever 
 come to Ohio I want to see Mrs. Maccracken. She was so kind 
 to your sister, going to her at once, soon as she heard of her 
 trouble." She sent for me to visit her a week at the seashore 
 (Atlantic City), and she seemed to think I was the same child I 
 was forty years ago ; and I think every moment of the visit was a 
 delight to her. I divided my time among the dear old friends and 
 relations at Hulmeville, Pa., Mount Holly, N. J., Burlington, Tren- 
 ton, Philadelphia, New York, Vermont, and a week among the 
 Highlands, up the Hudson near Peekskill. How much I owe for 
 such a summer ! I was three weeks with Jane, and then we were 
 in Vermont together. She is more lovely than ever. We often 
 talked of you, and again and again I said, " I am going to write 
 cousin Sarah to day." But, indeed, I scarce could write to these 
 dear children half the letters I ought. They would not let me 
 write "the weather was too hot, and I must rest my eyes," they 
 said 
 
 Try a week with me. You shall be quiet as you please. We 
 are in the "Burned House" again. 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., November 6, 1872. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 I am so glad and pleased grateful, too for being thus made 
 one of that little, inner circle to whom family joys and sorrows are 
 told. You knew I should so appreciate your last letter, telling of 
 
 S 's marriage, and I was so glad you spoke out, that you were 
 
 all so happy, and do not hesitate to say so to inner friends. I have 
 not had your experience, but your letter expresses, I am sure, my 
 own testimony, if God shall so bless my children in a " helpmeet."
 
 GOOD OLD BIBLE STORY. . 1 71 
 
 The other day a mother said, "A wedding-day is to parents a sad, 
 tearful day, such a giving-up day !" I could not see it so; and 
 just then your letter came, showing I was right. Believing that all 
 our " earthly steps are ordered," looking at all our children's sur- 
 roundings as of the Lord's planning, when such a gift comes as 
 your letter tells of, surely parents can only rejoice. When the 
 holy estate is " entered into, not unadvisedly or lightly, but rever- 
 ently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God," 
 surely we may count upon His benediction who graced Cana's 
 marriage-feast, and believe that .He will add His grace, "that so 
 living together in this life, in the world to come we may have life 
 everlasting." I believe that "matches are made in heaven" for 
 all who want His help, and, if our children look to Him, we may 
 promise them, as of old, "The Lord God of heaven shall send 
 His angel before thee," and He will truly tell "whom the Lord 
 hath appointed out." "The thing proceedeth from the Lord." 
 I more and more like the good old Bible story, with its holy and 
 comforting suggestions, and I now join with you all in the general 
 
 family joy and welcome to this " our first daughter." To L 
 
 may she be a Rebekah indeed, his continual comforter and joy; 
 and to his parents, " better than seven sons." 
 
 How long it seems since I have talked with you on paper ! Yet, 
 as time rushes on as it does, more and more, faster and faster, after 
 we go beyond fifty years (do not you feel this hurry of time ?), 
 our hearts draw closer to the old, old friends of our youth, and 
 we can never forget them, nor can they seem very distant, so much 
 and so often are they in our thoughts, "even though there be no 
 spoken or written words. Always believe that of me. How often 
 I thought and spoke of you this summer, passing some weeks in 
 
 old Burlington with "Cousin J ," worshipping with her in the 
 
 little Presbyterian church, sitting in the same old pew where sister 
 Martha and I so often sat by her fa'ther, listening to the faithful 
 preaching of the Gospel. 
 
 Mrs. V R is more lovely than when she came to Bur- 
 lington a blushing bride, so young and fair. Such a sweet, hal- 
 lowed look, I never saw before ; and her talk so tender and true 
 of the husband gone before ; so full of the brightness of hope. 
 Her whole heart is absorbed in the work of leading on her children 
 to the same heavenly home.
 
 172 OLDTOWN FOLKS. 
 
 I had a delightful summer, from the igth of June to the i5th of 
 September, away from my own little band of home ones. But our 
 
 darling N was a wonderful mother, and housekeeper, too, 
 
 aided by her willing helpers ; and no one was sick, or suffered from 
 my long absence, and only goodness and mercy followed each 
 member of the divided family. Friends carried me about every- 
 where ; one week I was among the Pennsylvania relatives, then at 
 the seaside, Atlantic City, with a dear old friend, who used to be 
 my Bible-class teacher, and has never lost her interest in me ; some 
 
 weeks with dear sister E in New York, and with her a week 
 
 among the Highlands, with excursions up and down the beautiful 
 Hudson. I met all Mrs. Stowe's " Oldtown Folks" in Arlington, 
 Vt. What a wonderful people are the dwellers in that beautiful 
 Vermont valley ! What scenery is theirs, those Green Mountain 
 views, painted before me in ever-living freshness ! I have heard 
 some people say past pleasures are like a dream. Not so with me, 
 as living present pictures stands this past summer. There was so 
 much to enjoy ; little surprising pleasures at every step ; and that 
 I could still enjoy all, was not too old, that was the most surprising 
 of all. 
 
 Thanks for the sight of the old home-picture, with the mother 
 and brother standing in the yard. The old house looks full of 
 broad hospitality, with rooms to hold children and grandchildren. 
 
 Does your mother still live ? I am just going to write to F ; 
 
 all summer I have had to neglect him, with many other correspond- 
 ents. You may well be proud or thankful over F 's college 
 
 course. May the Good Shepherd keep him very close to His side 1 
 
 I have not half told you of my Eastern trip, or of my very 
 pleasant return home with my dear husband. You need never 
 assure him of your full appreciation of the Episcopal Church ; he 
 knows you almost as well as does his wife, and with almost the 
 same liking. 
 
 TO MR. L. E. S. 
 
 DELAWARE, February 22, 1873. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 You know I thank you for giving to me what no other could. 
 How much we all owe to you! The Lord "will recompense." 
 It was His hand that marked out and led your path into that of our
 
 NEARNESS OF DEPARTED FRIENDS. 173 
 
 dear brother's, and made your fresh young life so much, so very 
 much to him. Again, I say, I know God will repay, and give back 
 to you in happiness all that you were able to give to that dear 
 lonely one. May the memory of this friend, to whom you minis- 
 tered, be ever as a sweet call to trust wholly "our Father which 
 art in heaven." Yes, trust wholly, believing that He " careth for 
 you" with infinite pity and boundless love. 
 
 This dear brother's life its gentle, peaceful, even tenor how 
 God ever "tempered the wind," and sheltered, guided, and 
 guarded ; cared for him with more than a mother's care, supply- 
 ing every want, raising up just such friends as would give joy and 
 comfort, and then crowning all with calling home before one cold 
 evening shadow touched him, taking him into His "presence, 
 where there is fulness of joy, and pleasures for evermore."* 
 
 How I wish you could sit down by me, and let me talk about 
 dear John ! Call him John ; was not that the name you used ? 
 He would like to be remembered* much, and often talked about. 
 You and I do not know how thin may be the separating veil be- 
 tween the seen and unseen worlds; how near freed, blessed spirits 
 are permitted to come ; how closely they watch and wait, and 
 enter into the happiness of the loved ones left behind. I have no 
 theories, am no spiritualist, but I see nothing in the Bible to forbid 
 the thought that our loved ones know and love us still, and may 
 not be far away. Does not this help to make our lives pure, pa- 
 tient? Are not these our friends, "gone before," as- bright links 
 that hold us to the Home above? 
 
 Were you here I would go back to childhood's days, and tell 
 you of your friend. He and I were in the middle of "our eight." 
 In all my life no other heart has so blindly loved me, as if I had 
 no fault, and so foolishly praised and admired. My coming to 
 this Western home was, I doubt not, one of the hardest trials of 
 his life. Heavy cares kept us much apart. How I thank the 
 loving Hand that brought him here, and gave to us and him that 
 delightful visit ! Somehow I felt that he might never come again. 
 I went with him on his homeward route to Columbus, and can 
 never forget the thoughts when parting in the depot. I will tell 
 you some time of this. You see that I look forward to a friend- 
 
 * Her brother John died three weeks before the date of this letter.
 
 174 SAFE FROM ALL EVIL. 
 
 ship " between us as long as life shall last." I wish my home was 
 nearer, so that you could take my dear absent brother's seat at our 
 table and fireside, and see how warm and true a brother's welcome 
 is yours ! 
 
 Our last brother is now gone ! How fast grows the Home- 
 gathering above ! Let me take his place, as far as an elder sister 
 can. You little know how fond and deep was his love for his 
 "young friend L." How much he talked and wrote about you ! 
 It almost made me sad, and I often gently tried to prepare him 
 for changes that I thought must come in time. Not that this friend- 
 ship would dim, but that there would come to the so much younger 
 one a nearer and dearer, a more engaging tie. But he could never 
 see this. His childlike trust, and clinging, dependent, almost as a 
 woman's, nature, would never take in this future trouble, and it 
 was never to come. And he is now shut in forever, safe from all 
 evil ! Sister writes, how gentle, quiet, peaceful came the last, as 
 an infant's slumber oji the mother's bosom. Ah, our Saviour is 
 all in all, everything we need, every moment of our life. And can 
 we believe that, having watched and guarded and guided our slip- 
 pery feet all along the journey of life, the last steps are not most 
 precious in His sight, that He deserts the soul then? Let this 
 calling home of your beloved friend, watched by you, be an un- 
 forgotten, dying testimony, that He is faithful that promised, "I 
 will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." .... 
 
 Again I thank you for your letter, and the little playful note I 
 was just going to answer when the sad tidings came. Cannot you 
 come before summer? How much I want to see one whom I feel 
 that I so well know ! Please accept our home as a sister's house 
 during your yearly vacations, and as often at other times as pos- 
 sible. Warmest welcome awaits you from us all. 
 Your friend's sister, 
 
 JEANETTE H. PLATT.
 
 GOD S WAYS. 175 
 
 [1873. 1 July Mrs. Platt went to Toledo, O., for a ten days' 
 visit to her son and other friends there.] 
 
 TO H. P. 
 
 [TOLEDO] July 8, 1873. 
 
 Sitting in Mrs. W.'s little room, with the sweet "Psalms for the 
 day" open before me, how full of the dear boy I am leaving, are 
 my thoughts (I should be glad to meet you every day in some of 
 the daily Psalter words). May we not all take up David's words, 
 " I waited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined unto me and 
 heard me. He brought me also out of the horrible pit, out of the 
 mire and clay, and set my feet upon the rock, and ordered my 
 goings." " Thou art my helper and Redeemer, O my God." 
 
 Jesus is, indeed, a Rock. The blest one whose feet have 
 been set upon that Rock is everlastingly safe ; sooner or later there 
 will be "put a new song in his mouth, even a thanksgiving unto 
 our God." 
 
 GOD'S WAYS. 
 
 How few, who from their youthful day, 
 
 Look on to what their life may be, 
 Painting the visions of the way 
 
 In colors soft and bright and free ; 
 How few, who to such paths have brought 
 The hopes and dreams of early thought ! 
 For God, through ways they have not known, 
 Will lead His own. 
 
 What matter what the path shall be? 
 
 The end is clear and bright to view; 
 He knows that we a strength shall see, 
 
 Whate'er the day shall bring to do. 
 We see the end, the house of God, 
 But not the path to that abode ; 
 For God, through ways they have not known, 
 Will lead His own. 
 
 " As thy days, so shall thy strength be." 
 
 Your loving 
 
 MOTHER.
 
 176 THE HELPER AND COMFORTER. 
 
 TOLEDO, July, 1873. 
 MY PRECIOUS BOY : 
 
 Mrs. W. is busy, and I take this quiet moment to write good-bye. 
 
 How much comfort and pleasure have come to mother through 
 this little visit, planned and brought about through your kind 
 thoughtfulness and love ! I leave you all in His hands with the 
 one mother-prayer, " Father, bless and keep him, and make every 
 surrounding of his life only more and more to fit and mould him 
 for the Home beyond !" 
 
 Never be "cast down" through manifold temptations. I want 
 you to mark what Goulburn says on this subject (page 208), and 
 all the sweet Bible testimony ; and may Jesus, the one Helper and 
 Comforter, aid and uphold you ! We must give up ourselves to 
 God to be sanctified, Jesus' blood, Jesus' power. " By little and 
 little" that is God's plan He accepts and loves us for His dear 
 Son's sake, not for anything in us. Our "surety" stands for us. 
 God is reconciled to us. He only calls upon us to let Him save 
 us, by our accepting the full "cup of salvation." There may be 
 much, much that you do not now see clearly, or feel deeply ; but, 
 darling boy, the blessed one Teacher " guides into all truth." The 
 feeblest, most ignorant, stumbling lamb, is closest kept beneath the 
 Good Shepherd's eye and care. 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., August 12, 1873. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 My last letter to F , I hope, you took as part answer to 
 
 yours, waiting so long for answer. I have been from home several 
 times this summer, and really can write so little when visiting or 
 under the pressure of home care. Though these dear girls are 
 helpful, still it is, "Mother, mother," much as when they were all 
 wee ones ; and, as you know, I am no geqeral, and cannot marshal 
 about duties and claims as some women can. 
 
 Your last letter came to me in Springfield, Ohio, when trying 
 to comfort our dear old friend and daughters, lately called to part 
 from his wife, his closest, loving companion for so many years. I 
 think dear F met him at our house. On Friday I returned, in
 
 A BUSY MAN. 177 
 
 time for our two August birthdays N 's and J 's. H 
 
 came home, so we have been again "all, all here," save the little 
 lamb in the Good Shepherd's bosom. Does not old age have its 
 own peculiar joy? far, far more good, true, and beautiful than 
 youth can know. You and dear Mrs. Damon have still another 
 joy, I can only imagine, as yet, that of being grandparents. To 
 look upon one's life renewed, and begun again in children's chil- 
 dren, must wonderfully touch and stir the heart, I am sure. 
 
 I cannot tell how many pictures I have of my old friend's island 
 home, quite perfect in every touch and tint. 
 
 F 's last letter to his " cousins" pictured the rooms, the yard 
 
 with its trees and fountains ; I see it all, and you all only seem just 
 in another street, that is all. Every face, too, seems near to view ; 
 the queenly grandmamma and happy grandpa, and every face, 
 
 seated at the same table, when S , H , and the baby came 
 
 home. If Mr. Platt and I could join you at your pleasant water- 
 ing-place on the beach ! How tempting the spot, from your de- 
 scription ! I think you must be a general, indeed, to order all the 
 reading and work you had in hand, that sunny afternoon, when 
 you held before you "a sermon finishing, the newspapers, a volume 
 of Bushnell's Sermons, and one of George Eliot's novels; also edit- 
 ing the 'Friend,' and watching the inrolling breakers." Surely a 
 picture of a busy man. 
 
 No one beyond his father and mother can so rejoice over your 
 
 dear F 's recovery as I. May He who has formed that beautiful 
 
 nature ever watch and keep him from harm. I feel, dear friend, 
 that the world has so much jar for such a one. But "He knows 
 our frame;" He has bestowed upon your boy the nature that shall 
 best accomplish His holy will and pleasure, to honor and glorify 
 Him here and hereafter. I am so glad that he is now with you. 
 What help, strength, and tone your climate must give! But do be 
 careful about his return to book-work. I could wish that he might 
 have entire rest one year at least. He is so very young, such a 
 critical age. The loss of a year will only tell for good at thirty 
 years. If he could plod over work but this he cannot do. His 
 whole soul will be in his work, and whether he should thus tax and 
 test his strength I much question. I wish he could tramp around 
 on some civil engineering duty, or some not bookish employment, 
 12
 
 178 BOOKS CRITICISED. 
 
 nor preaching duty, either, but just to wait for riper age, and then 
 turn back to study and his chosen blessed life-work. 
 
 Through F I have come to know his Amherst friend, Miss 
 
 S , and she may come to Delaware this autumn. I owe him 
 
 much, for I do so very much admire this sweet, strong, young 
 "Mayflower" girl. I am not afraid of her, though she is a true 
 Yankee girl, with ever so much "faculty," I dare say. . . 
 
 I am not sensible enough, or something, to like George Eliot's 
 books have no sympathy with any character she draws. I have 
 not seen one true woman of her creation. She herself is not a 
 woman as God made and means and helps woman to be. She 
 cannot write of women; she may write of men, perhaps. We have 
 just begun her "Middlemarch," but I read it under protest, and 
 just because it was so praised to me by good judges, and it was 
 
 H 's birthday gift to N . I don't mean to like it! ("There, 
 
 that is silly woman," you say.) She has a work, too, by Miss Al- 
 cott, and the sweet "Songs of Seven," illustrated. 
 
 But let me tell you of two little readable books indeed: "Gra- 
 ham and I," covering, I think, in truth and beauty the ground of 
 "Gates Ajar;" the other is a pretty sparkle (I wish I could hear 
 
 F read it to you all, with S and H ) called " Mrs. 
 
 Jerningham's Diary." I cannot make my good husband believe 
 his wife was cast in the same mould as poor, silly Rosabel Jerning- 
 ham; yet I know she was in some respects in that "to live" was 
 so much to her, and that the sky, grass, and butterflies were a full 
 world to her. I really wish you could see this little book, though 
 
 it is only a sparkle, a bit of spray, or bubble-picture. Tell F 
 
 his "uncle and auntie" are still reading Froude. 
 
 I saw a notice the other day of a book I want much, "Memo- 
 rials of a Quiet Life" (English), by A. J. C. Hare, author of 
 "Walks in Rome." It is said to be "a most charming exemplifi- 
 cation of a true married life," "the depth and sweetness, the 
 perfect union, absence of selfishness, beautifully pictured in this 
 record of real life." Have you seen this book, or "Old Kensing- 
 ton," by Miss Thackeray? F will like all her pleasant Eng- 
 lish stories. F. is deep in Prime's "I go a-fishing," and Howells's 
 ''A Chance Acquaintance." Truly we seem like friends not so 
 far separated, when we so often read the same books with the same 
 taste.
 
 HEDGED IN. 179 
 
 I smiled over your question, " Have you seen Bushnell's Sermons 
 on the New Life?" Why, one of these sermons is on my mind and 
 
 heart never to be forgotten. (F has, I know, my account of 
 
 it; ask him for it on the text, "I girded thee," etc., "God's 
 plan in every man's life.") It was read to me by a young friend; 
 it is wonderfully full of help and comfort, and clear, striking 
 thoughts. 
 
 In a former letter you asked, "Why such a business-like request 
 for our Christmas pictures?" You know, I supposed you were on 
 your way to the States when I wrote, and that Mrs. Damon would 
 open the letter and hand over to your printer the Bequest. They 
 came safely. Who does not rather like his own picture more 
 especially when painted by partial love? 
 
 TO L. E. S. 
 
 Thursday morning, September 2, 1873. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 I am always glad to hear from you, one so near to our own chil- 
 dren now, even as one of them 
 
 You wish you could peep into our happy home? Yes it is a 
 happy, "happy home." And will you always think of this home 
 as showing one fact God is the Father of the family that trusts in 
 Him. So far as they simply, singly cling to Him, they shall be 
 blessed and happy, despite every earthly surrounding of care, 
 anxiety, and pain. God chooses the discipline for each house- 
 hold. He has hedged me and mine about with straitened cir- 
 cumstances. That He saw was necessary and best for these chil- 
 dren. The hedge has been a loving guard to keep off many an 
 evil. It has bound us more and more to each other, and, I trust, 
 turned our eyes more and more up to Him through the riches of 
 His grace. Poverty may become a household blessing, though no 
 young heart can believe this. 
 
 You ask, "What am I to do till next summer?" Almost anything 
 but live in the future. The past and present are enough, and it 
 is impossible to paint domestic happiness; it can only be felt. Im- 
 agination's colors are always borrowed never true. 'Tis as the 
 subtle perfume of a flower held too closely for any sight. I like 
 air castles and pretty bubbles of all kinds except these. How
 
 l8o A HIGHER SCHOOL. 
 
 strange, you say, and wonder why and how all this can be true. 
 It is because true marriage touches our own higher nature. Its 
 happiness comes from an unseen spring and source God's pro- 
 mised blessing upon a true union. His blessing cannot be imag- 
 ined, which He says is that "blessing that maketh rich." It is not 
 a torrent of joy that must flow in upon the life, soon as the tie is 
 made. Oh, no, no. It comes rather like the unseen dew, or little 
 rivulets fed from ten thousand springs hid quite away from sight. 
 It is the joy, peace, rest, and hope that patience gives. Long suf- 
 fering and self sacrifice, self-forgetfulness, consideration, all summed 
 up in loving another better than ourself. Do you wonder that there 
 are but few very happy marriages? Fallen creatures in a fallen 
 world yet every true marriage may be very happy, because God 
 has honored, owned, and blessed this "holy estate." 
 
 Being married is like going into a higher school, of more diffi- 
 cult lessons, with better rewards and honors ; but to be never more 
 alone; with seat-mate to learn out of the same book, stand by us 
 in every lesson, divide every reproof, and share every smile of the 
 Teacher, until both hear the dismissal, "Well done, good and 
 faithful;" "the school is out" forever, and the Eternal Home is 
 gained, to go out no more. 
 
 "To wait till next summer seems so long?" Well, high school 
 lessons are pretty hard, sometimes. Can scholars be too fully pre- 
 pared ? I guess not. They can never fail under such a Teacher, 
 trusting themselves wholly to His care, guidance, and "very present 
 help." Asking Him He will fit you and dear Nellie for each other, 
 and make these long, long months of patient waiting no loss indeed, 
 but a great gain every way. 
 
 She read to me your thought about the master-workman of that 
 beautiful structure erecting in your city. What a faint picture it is 
 of the Mind that has planned out each life ! Not the outline only, 
 but the filling up each shade and touch ; all who shall cross our 
 path, each life that shall touch ours, and every surrounding circum- 
 stance marked out. 
 
 God has a plan in every man's life, Bushnell shows us from the 
 Bible, and I believe He has 
 
 ["L. E. S." was the " friend" of Mrs. Plait's daughter N., and became Mrs. 
 P.'s son-in-law.]
 
 WE GIRLS. l8l 
 
 w 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., March 30, 1874. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND: 
 
 I feared my letter to F , written on the bed, would make 
 
 you anxious to hear again. I am now very much in usual health, 
 and, when the warm days give back the spring birds and blossoms, 
 my strength will all be here, too, I hope. What do you think of 
 your old friend's disregard of your two most kind and considerate 
 letters waiting for answer so long ? It was so thoughtful in you to 
 
 write of F 's health and great success in teaching. How glad 
 
 and thankful we all were ! " Why, then, not write at least one 
 word, and say 'thanks'?" Your two letters stood before me in 
 the open desk all winter ; day after day I was surely going to reply. 
 Will you look back a little with me for the reason (not excuse) of 
 the delay? 
 
 In the first place, you should remember that my head "only 
 can hold one idea at a time," as my dear husband has always de- 
 clared. N.'s friend's visit, and the important result to us, seemed 
 to take away, for a time, all thought of other things. I could not 
 see how I could give away our N. He came in September. Then 
 the neuralgia came to my head and face, and I was too good-for- 
 nothing to write. You know the past winter has been to business 
 men a " panic winter," and our children concluded to help their 
 father by trying Mrs. Whitney's "We Girls" in our house. So 
 our good servant left, and the girls have managed household mat- 
 ters ever since. Of course the home circle was kept as busy as 
 
 bees. H , F , and M were in school, and J going 
 
 on with her German and drawing lessons. Every moment has 
 been brimful of care and hurry ; so day after day letter-writing was 
 
 crowded out. There waits, too, a sweet letter from Miss S , 
 
 for weeks and weeks, for answer. Will you not try to understand 
 and believe the heart true and warm, though the hand stopped, 
 and no word reached you all these weeks and months ? Please do 
 not punish us by doing as you have been done by.
 
 182 SHINING HOURS. 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., December 13, 1874. 
 Third Sunday in Advent. 
 
 MY DEAR OLD FRIEND: 
 
 I come for a few Sunday words, just as I should sit by you and 
 friend Julia in your study, and talk on this holy day. Why not? 
 Are our fingers more holy than our tongues? Well, I should say 
 first, forgive my long silence and seeming neglect. Your three 
 letters, so full of loving interest in us all, were fully appreciated. 
 Never mind the silence; I was wearied and worn out, and cannot 
 write letters, even to dearest friends, when the heart is too full for 
 words. And if I could, I would not would not give one shade of 
 care to my far distant friends through the recital of little passing 
 trouble of mine. 
 
 I like the old Florence dial motto: "I count the hours that 
 shine." But who can tell which are shining hours of our life? A 
 ray from the Eternal Day will so change all earthly reading that 
 our highest joys will be seen to spring from the deepest, darkest 
 
 sorrows of this life, no doubt. I wrote to dear F in August or 
 
 September, and mentioned to him my summer worries. He could 
 better understand, for I think God gave to him something of a 
 woman's heart, or at least the power to understand her, not com- 
 mon to all men. His last letter was so full of loving sympathy and 
 
 interest, so like himself. There is but one " our F " in all the 
 
 world. 
 
 N wants me to promise her a little visit about March or 
 
 April. Her father and J passed last Sunday with her in her 
 
 new home in Philadelphia, and declare she is perfectly happy, 
 "happy as two children," her father said, and added, "I would 
 ask nothing more for her." Yet her surroundings are plain and 
 simple ; she has not married wealth or showy position, only an 
 earnest, loving Christian man, who thinks there never was nor 
 
 will be another such perfect being as his wife N . They attend 
 
 Dr. Bedell's old church, St. Andrew's, where I first went to the 
 Episcopal Sunday-school and Bible-class. When sister Sarah mar- 
 ried, in 1827, she took me to Philadelphia to go to school, and my 
 home was with her for some time. Dr. Bedell baptized her,
 
 THE LITTLE SESSION ROOM. 183 
 
 Martha, and brother James; so you see old St. Andrew's holds for 
 us many sacred associations. 
 
 I wish you could see our H now; you remember the curly- 
 headed, blue- eyed little girl of eleven or twelve? She is now our 
 sunshine, as is no other child. She was one of the nine confirmed 
 in October last, as noticed in the "Standard of the Cross." 
 
 When are you and friend Julia coming to the States again? Are 
 
 we not to meet again here? Since your last visit, and dear F 's, 
 
 your Island home seems so near;' I seem to really see you all, ray 
 
 thoughts visiting you so often. Is not F now quite well? His 
 
 letter spoke of so much comfort in his present work. Please tell 
 us all about him; we all love him so much. 
 
 Lottie C., my old schoolmate, passed two weeks with us in Octo- 
 ber. I tried to get her to begin a letter to you ; I wanted to send 
 you a joint letter. She looks so well ; her face has more expression, 
 v and really I think her as pretty as at sixteen. She has scarcely a 
 gray thread through her soft light hair. (My head is almost snowy.) 
 Cousin Jane A. passed May here. What would Mr. Hodge do 
 without her Bible-class and constant help in the little church in old 
 Burlington? She says Mrs. Van Rensselaer grows more and mote 
 lovely as she gets nearer and nearer her home beyond. It is long 
 since you, Martha, and I used to meet for prayer and praise in that 
 little "Session Room!" Is it long? 
 
 " Now, Lord, what wait we for? 
 
 On Thee alone 
 Our hope is all rested; 
 
 Lord, seal us Thy own! 
 Only Thine own to be, 
 Only to live to Thee; 
 Thine, with each day begun, 
 Thine, with each set of sun, 
 Thine, till our work is done. 
 
 Then, Lord, then bear Thou us 
 
 Safe through the flood ; 
 In Thy courts welcome us 
 
 Bought with Thy blood ; 
 Once prisoners, now unbound, 
 Once lost, and by Thee found, 
 Brought home from sin and fears, 
 Brought home from death and tears, 
 Home, for unnumbered years."
 
 1 84 MY JEWELS. 
 
 Tell dear F we often say, " F was with us this time last 
 
 year." We are in the midst of Christmas hurries; he knows what 
 that means in our household. All my summer distress and fears 
 are gone, and God has wonderfully delivered us from evil. My 
 "jewels" are still all mine; only one has doubled, she says, and 
 one the Good Shepherd is holding in His bosom.
 
 A TINY BUD. 185 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " The Lord shall increase you more and more, you and your children." 
 
 Trip to Philadelphia First grandchild A tiny bud Bishop Jaggar, his conse- 
 cration Return home with her daughter and child. March to June, 1875. 
 
 [MARCH 26, 1875, Mrs. Platt went to Philadelphia. Her daughter 
 E.'s first child was born on the 24th.] 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, March 30, 1875. 
 MY DEAR HOME ONES : 
 
 You must all feel that you are helpers in this time of need by 
 doing without mother's letters. Remember this, you cannot 
 know how glad they are, and how very thankful I am to be 
 " brought" here now, that you were all well enough ; and I, for 
 this that all the sisters are together once more, but one, of the 
 old home band, of the old fireside ! 
 
 I found E. so bright and doing well ; and the wee one, the dear 
 little stranger, waiting for her grandmother's welcome ! Such a 
 tiny, tiny creature as you cannot picture at all ; yet so perfect in 
 her miniature, and her mother so happy, and her father so proud, 
 and grandma, so thankful her little life had been spared thus far. 
 The doctor had no expectation of her life at first, said it was a 
 
 "tiny bud, opened too soon for March winds." L says, "I 
 
 thought, at once, I knew what would please and soothe E in 
 
 this parting from this countless treasure, to have this little one, 
 given to us, enrolled among the fold of the Good Shepherd, wel- 
 comed into church below, and received into our ' Father's House' 
 above, 'to go out no more.' So I went for Dr. Paddock [his min- 
 ister]. ' Too late,' they said, when he came. But he touched the 
 eyelid and said, ' No ; hand the water. What name ?' ' Jeanette 
 Jeanette Platt,' said Anna B. ('for I thought,' she said, 'How 
 pleased C. would be were he standing by')." 
 
 Since the next morning, the doctor tells me, he has had no
 
 1 86 A COMFORT. 
 
 anxiety for the child's life. God grant it may be spared ! I would 
 like to have it given to dear E., to return to her something of that 
 gift God gave me in her mother. But He knows just what is best 
 for us all. It is " immortal till its work be done." One great good 
 her little life has already accomplished, living to greet her grand- 
 mother ; to fill her young mother's heart with such great, sweet, 
 tender joy; and all her future we leave to Him whose "lamb" 
 she is 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, April 13, 1875. 
 
 So much has passed since I wrote, dear husband ! Through all 
 I have been "kept," though often trembling and afraid, dis- 
 couraged, and longing for home. Still, they all say, " It is such 
 a mercy and comfort you are with us." Dear E. said, "I never 
 could have got through all if you had not been here." So you and 
 I must be thankful that I came ; thankful that, though feeling so 
 "good-for-nothing," I can still be of some use. But lam not 
 strong enough to enjoy these changes, 'even with N. and her baby, 
 away from husband and the home children. I feel so alone, like 
 as if in a dream, restless, and wanting to wake up and see you all, 
 and find myself in my own home, with familiar surroundings, and 
 the dear old faces about me. Do not think I am at all unhappy. 
 Oh, no, no. In time, under God's blessing, the old-time feeling 
 will come back, doubtless. 
 
 . . . . I begin to hope the child will live, though to me its 
 life has seemed scarce possible. It sleeps and eats well, and that 
 is all we can ask for now, and must leave it in its Maker's hands. 
 She will live out all her mission here. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, April 21, 1875. 
 MY DEAR HUSBAND: 
 
 Never have we been kept in more entire oneness than through 
 these past weeks of separation, not able to speak to one another ! 
 You can never know what these weeks have been, so thronged with 
 sorrow, pain, and heart loneliness, and longing for you and home, 
 with the quiet routine of my own home life "so feeble, too totter- 
 ing in strength for any such visit." I have thought it again and 
 again, but dear sister E. has so often said, "It is such a great mercy
 
 CHOICEST BLESSINGS. 187 
 
 you are here !" So if I have been of any use let us thank our Father 
 for this, and for His loving " Help" so constantly granted me and 
 you in the trial of this separation. 
 
 I have begun a tonic that has greatly helped me, and, oh, I am 
 so glad to feel the "lifting up," and something of the old self 
 coming back. You do not know how glad. 
 
 Such utter weakness and weariness, head and eye trouble, I could 
 only "look up towards the Hills." Dared not dwell upon home 
 or husband, or the dear ones there. But His mercy was never 
 removed. He has been always mindful of His covenant and pro- 
 mise ! Often feeling too miserable to "cry," my heart could only 
 say "my soul hangeth upon Thee." But I have not been laid by 
 at all, and have gone from day to day through all that came before 
 me; but never in all my life have I so needed the petition in our 
 family prayers, "Grant us patience and minds always contented 
 with present conditions," so homesick have I been, or could have 
 been! I believe this is our last separation "here." I have not 
 the strength. Now, my head and eyes are getting as usual,, so that 
 this morning I sat down with Daily Food and Psalter, like old 
 times. I have read nothing. All this shows, I hope, why, when 
 all the clear home ones have so much cheered and helped me, no 
 responses came to them. Even postal card I dare not write the 
 least effort with my inflamed eye would bring the neuralgia. Could 
 enjoy nothing, only the thought and trust that He who had led and 
 helped me here would hold and keep me to the end. And now 
 all this while, how in sympathy we have been ! Wordless sym- 
 pathy ! You have been so unwell, and suffering so much under all 
 your heavy business cares and anxieties. And I taken from you 
 just then and all alone, "yet not all alone," for I know He who led 
 the wife away eame Himself, and has been The One ever Present 
 Helper in your time of need. Thus being taught what He can be 
 in darkest hours, our present separation may yet be counted among 
 the choicest blessings of our life. Our school life of discipline for 
 our future eternal Home. E. sits by making a bonnet for mother, 
 while dear little "baby Jean" sleeps near us. On the i5th she 
 began to improve, and I could see that she was really growing, and 
 took heart for the little lamb. God would spare her life I knew 
 if He had any mission for her, but such a frail thread that life 
 seemed.
 
 1 88 HEARING PORT. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, May 6, 1875. 
 
 Yours of Monday came this morning, and I hasten a few words 
 by the return mail. We will think over the whole matter, seeking 
 direction from the One "Wonderful Counsellor," and surely we shall 
 then be "led" in "the right way." .... We all owe to her 
 [E.], to the utmost of our power, our personal loving care and 
 attention, this summer of her feeble health, and first experience of 
 baby care. You know it was the sense of this that brought me 
 here, and the help of your frequent words when I was doubting 
 my strength, and battling with my disinclination. " You will have 
 strength given," you would say. And so it has been. Often my 
 heart has failed utterly, but as often risen up again, with the sense 
 of His help and care. This separation was our mutual sacrifice for 
 the child who was our loving helper, our unwearied sympathizer 
 and comforter, from her very earliest years. What she was to her 
 mother only One knows! Our time to repay is shortening Let 
 us then do all we can, and God, our own covenant-keeping God, 
 
 will supply our lack in His fourfold measure E. is 
 
 feeble and needs a mother. God has permittted me to come, and 
 He has helped us both to endure thus far; and now what is His 
 further will? Surely He will make all plain, very plain. I am so 
 sorry for your continued ill health, and I not present; but that, too, 
 He has permitted, I cannot, dare not doubt. Too long has He 
 cared for and planned for us old pilgrims for us to dare to doubt 
 His love and tender care! If He continue to us as a family His 
 richest spiritual blessings, let all things else go ! Yes, all things, 
 and the "letting go" will prove at least to be among the wonderful 
 "working together for good" of our chequered lives. Vessels so 
 near in port care but little for smattering winds and threatened 
 storm ! Dear husband, hold on! steady! steady! behold the Pilot 
 near! Nay, He has His hand upon the helm! All will "be well," 
 soon very soon forever well ! Don't ask of Him why or where- 
 fore. He cannot err. Love is the meaning of all He does or per- 
 mits to come to His children. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, May , 1875. 
 
 Sister Mitchell has sent you to-day Bishop Jaggar [his photo- 
 graph] to look at. You cannot help but like him, and so will all 
 the dear children. (How I want to look into each home-face !)
 
 A HOUSEHOLD WELCOME. 189 
 
 May God lead dear little M. and F., too, unto serious consideration 
 of their duty and blessed privilege to now his first visitation take 
 upon themselves the solemn vows we once promised for them ! His 
 manner is quiet and most winning. I hope all our children will 
 learn to know and love him. .When he met me, he referred to our 
 letter as of so much comfort and, help such a pleasure, for we 
 "promised him a household welcome!" Just when he was hesi- 
 tating over and sorrowing at the thought of all the severed rela- 
 tions here, in his prosperous parish work. He spoke again and 
 again of our letter. Was it not well we followed that "sudden 
 impulse" to write? What little "acts of kindness" may be chosen, 
 like the ravens of old, to carry help and comfort! 
 
 How beautiful was the Consecration Service! and most impres- 
 sive. Mr. Clark, from Colorado, was here (sister saw him). I 
 inclose for Dr. Ufford the notice or programme of the services at 
 Holy Trinity. Please give him my love, and say I would like to 
 write, but my eyes and strength forbid now. 
 
 June zd, Mrs. Platt returned home from Philadelphia, bringing 
 her daughter E. and the grandchild, all three needing rest and re- 
 cuperation. 
 
 The daughter remained all summer, and returned the last of 
 August with her husband.
 
 BISHOP JAGGAR. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " At evening time it shall be light." 
 
 Letters to Dr. Damon Jean P. S. A six months' birthday, a sixty years' birth- 
 day, the happiest, gladdest, brightest of her life A word picture Taine's Eng- 
 lish literature To F. W. Damon, Mrs. W. B. M. Last letter to her husband 
 Thirtieth anniversary Facing Hfe's sunset To Rev. G. W. D. November, 
 1875, to July, 1877. 
 
 MRS. PLATT took a lively interest in Bishop Jaggar from the 
 time he was first spoken of for the office ; and, after his election, 
 wrote him of her interest, thanking him for accepting, and assuring 
 him of a warm welcome to our rural households in Ohio. To this 
 the Bishop was pleased to return this reply : 
 
 DEAR MRS. PLATT : 
 
 I have no words which will convey to you the peculiar pleasure 
 which your letter gave me. It is very hard to break up the ties 
 which bind me to my people here, and enter upon a new and 
 untried field of labor. 
 
 But your thoughtful words, and their promise of a "household 
 welcome," assure me of a sympathy which I shall much need, and 
 create in me already a "home feeling" towards Delaware. 
 
 I shall hope, if permitted to labor in your diocese, that you will 
 count me always your sincere friend. 
 
 THOS. A. JAGGAR. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, February 4, 1875. 
 
 The Bishop made his first visit to Delaware on Saturday and 
 Sunday, October 2d and 3d (1875), at which time Mrs. Platt had 
 the pleasure of entertaining him, and had great enjoyment in the 
 visit.
 
 THE BIRD BOOK. 1 9! 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 Friday morning, November 5, 1875. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 I cannot let Mr. Platt's few lines go to you with no word from 
 me, thanking you for your welcome letter of September I5th. tell- 
 ing of dear F 's restored health and plans. I am so glad and 
 
 thankful. May all the pain and dark of his life have been in the 
 morning the dawn; and in the evening-time may there be light, 
 even the one " shining more and more unto the perfect day." His 
 is a nature to suffer or enjoy to an intensity many cannot know. 
 You can never tell me too much about this dear boy. I do hope 
 much to see him again here. His plans are not fully laid, you say; 
 but he hopes now to have one or two years for rest before completing 
 his studies. How glad I am. Time enough for him to begin life- 
 work at thirty. More and better work for his Master may be his 
 for all these long years of waiting preparation. Let him remember 
 who waited and waited, with such a mission before Him, for the 
 three years of working. 
 
 You cannot know how near Honolulu is to us. Indeed, heart- 
 spirits know nothing of such barriers as oceans and mountains. 
 And now my dear husband .has just lived on your fair islands. He 
 finished the Bird book only last evening, and I can truly say it has 
 been an evening delight now for some weeks' reading to me. I 
 kept it, thinking he might be interested in it, and would like to 
 read it to me, but I did not guess how great would be his quiet 
 pleasure in its descriptions. I have never seen him more interested 
 in a book. I call it the "Bird Book," for I declare the writer 
 seems more birdlike than woman. She sings and soars in her de- 
 scriptions, and floats about among your island glories as if she had 
 no body to tire or feel a pain. I cannot at all understand how she 
 could do all, or a tenth she did, unless her nature, as well as name, 
 be Bird.* Mr. P., last evening, put down the book to open your 
 last "Friend," and said, "Tell him of my pleasure in his notice 
 of the book." So many thanks for the book and papers that come 
 
 * The Hawaiian Archipelago : or, Six Months on the Sandwich Islands," by 
 Miss Bird, an English lady; a very entertaining book, published in England, and 
 given to Mrs. Platt by Mr. Damon.
 
 19 a SWEET SIXTY. 
 
 so duly, telling us of your home ! How much we all owe you ! 
 and like to owe you ! 
 
 N and baby returned to Philadelphia in September, taking 
 
 our H with her for the winter. How we missed our sunny- 
 hearted girl ! But H brought us another daughter, some weeks 
 
 ago, that we love very much. She was an orphan, a sweet, true- 
 hearted, Christian girl. They are as happy as can be. They live 
 in Toledo. 
 
 TO HER GRANDDAUGHTER, JEANETTE P. S. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., Leap-year day, 1876. 
 DEAREST GRANDDAUGHTER: 
 
 I think you would have clapped your hands if you could have 
 seen grandmother's birthday table. Your little picture stood 
 highest, gracing all with the flowing curls and sweetest arch look. 
 It is just a lovely picture, and 1 send herein ever so many kisses 
 and thanks for it. A six months' birthday is a great day ; but 
 grandma's birthday was a sixty years'. When you reach the "sweet 
 sixteen" this will seem like almost living before the flood. But 
 grandmother writes it for you, that this old birthday was the very 
 happiest, gladdest, brightest birthday of her life. " Sweet sixty," 
 as grandfather whispered early in the morning. Oh, it is ever and 
 ever so much brighter and better than "sweet sixteen !" 
 
 All behind lies so quiet and calm ; the rough places passed, all 
 smooth ; the dashing waves all stilled ; the few little ripples re- 
 maining sparkling with the golden light of eternity the eternal 
 day ; floodtide steadily, surely bearing on and on toward the 
 " shining shore," almost insight; the " City which hath founda- 
 tions, whose builder and maker is God." There are so many birth- 
 days in our household year, grandma always thinks may be her's 
 can be passed without remembering ; but this birthday was full of 
 pleasant little surprises, beginning with its eve, which opened a 
 great box from Springfield friends. There were oranges, lemons, 
 Malaga grapes, pine-apples, preserved ginger, etc. etc. If you 
 only could have been in your " high chair" and seen my birthday 
 dinner-table ! Aunt J. made it so beautiful while I went out for a 
 walk on one of our most lovely days, with the birds beginning to 
 sing, all about, on the 2th of February.
 
 A WORD PICTURE. 193 
 
 Just before my plate, on the table-cloth, a device in glowing 
 autumn leaves, "60." These bright leaves and evergreens were 
 all about in vases, etc. The centre pyramid was oranges, lemons, 
 and bunches of beautiful grapes ; while all around my plate 
 stood the pictures of my absent children. Aunt J. can " fix things 
 beautifully." Not a party, only the dear old every day faces. All 
 day long the sitting-room table was piled up with grandma's love 
 tokens. Uncle F. said, " It seems to me sixty is the time only to 
 eat." Not true at all. Have I not your lovely picture, and church 
 and parsonage, sermons and essays, dress, etc., from aunt S. ; and 
 last, but almost first, one grand, big book, "Taine's English Litera- 
 ture," with its fly-leaf inscription, a word-picture (the prettiest pic- 
 ture grandma ever made), which I copy for you to keep, because 
 you may never see the painter : " To my foster-mother. In memory 
 of the winter mornings when, before the open fire, and with cur- 
 tains drawn, we sat with Chaucer, Spenser, Milton, and the king 
 of poets Shakespeare himself." 
 
 But I must close. 
 
 Your loving 
 
 GRANDMOTHER. 
 
 TO F. W. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, Sunday afternoon, May 21, 1876. 
 
 I cannot let this dear young brother go to you, and not carry 
 one word of loving message, dear Frank. We are so glad to hear 
 all he tells of your health, happiness, and great success in your 
 work as a teacher. And now you propose to "rest and study in 
 Europe some months, and then back to old Andover" for prepara- 
 tion for your great life-work, telling the old, old story as preacher 
 of the Gospel. How glad, how thankful "Aunt Jennie" is for 
 you, dear boy, you cannot know. Make Him your all in all, then 
 health, happiness, "all things are yours." 
 
 And this is "the baby* of the family." What a grand man he 
 is going to make ! In voice and face he must be your father all 
 over again, as he was when a boy of nineteen years. How very 
 like him ! in many traits, too, and manner, at times. Tell dear 
 
 * His brother Will, who made Mrs. Platt a visit on his way home to the Islands 
 from Amherst College. 
 
 '3
 
 194 A WHOLE-HEARTED BOY. 
 
 Mrs. Damon I do not wonder she could trust him away so far from 
 home and home influences. He seems to want to do right so sim- 
 ply, as if good principles had been, by Grace, engrafted from ear- 
 liest years ; and yet with so free, full, youthful a nature, gay as a bird, 
 sportive as the spring wind. It is good to see a whole-hearted, 
 out-and-out boy, with such tokens of what the man may be. May 
 the Good Shepherd shield him from all harm! How many times 
 I have smiled and mused over his gay fun with these children, as 
 if they were very cousins indeed. I do not know who likes him 
 best; each teases and bothers him all the time, just as if they had 
 been playmates from earliest childhood. Surely friendships run on 
 and on through all time into the life eternal beyond! 
 
 Now are you planning to slip by us as your father has done? 
 Surely not. Will you want to go to Europe without a peep at 
 Aunt Jennie? She has counted her threescore years; and her life 
 has run on so swiftly, with such fulness, I think already she has 
 lived two lives, two long, full lives. Every year she knows there 
 seems less and less strength, though she is very well. Stop and 
 see us if you can; if not possible, shall we not meet again in our 
 Father's house ? 
 
 A letter from sister E., New York, last week, says, "I had such 
 a nice visit from Dr. Damon. I don't think he is a day older. I 
 told him he must see you before his return home." I think he 
 will, though he persists in saying no, for want of time. He must 
 make time for a little peep in July. 
 
 [Her last letter to her husband, written from Toledo where she was on a visit 
 to H. Written on the anniversary of her marriage.] 
 
 TOLEDO, Nov. 9, 1876. 
 
 This day is very much the same day as when we two went to- 
 gether to the old Epiphany, on this eventful morning, thirty years 
 ago ! But how much nearer we are to each other ! What priceless 
 blessings God had in store for us that day 1 And through all the 
 blessed experiences from His hand, how graciously, through His 
 mercy, has He revealed Himself to us! How tenderly He has 
 cared for our poor, helpless children's wayward, straying feet 
 blessing, guarding, "hedging them in" from the Evil One on every 
 side ! And above all, to one and another, touching their hearts,
 
 FACING LIFE'S SUNSET. 195 
 
 and drawing them to choose the way of Life, so that now only two 
 of all our eight stand without, not yet having taken upon themselves 
 the vows of His service, and entered upon the privileges promised 
 them in baptism. Oh, we have been wonderfully blessed! No 
 matter if silver and gold have been withheld. If we count for 
 anything the domestic peace and truest happiness always ours, and 
 the unseen spiritual blessings of our home, then we two owe Him 
 thanks and love in measure, it seems, above all others. 
 
 And now, having been blessed so far, can we think He will drop 
 us from this help and care? Never, never! The roughest part of 
 our path is passed. We have gained the hill-top, and now we are 
 facing life's sunset, and softer and smoother will be the road to our 
 more and more enfeebled feet ; our hearts growing stronger and 
 stronger in the light of the eternal day just beyond. No matter 
 what He may permit to come as the test and trial of our faith, His 
 word stands sure : " The path of the just is as the shining light, 
 which shineth more and more unto the perfect day." 
 
 TO F. W. DAMON. 
 
 TOLEDO, OHIO, November 18, 1876. 
 MY DEAR FRANK : 
 
 Yours from New York, of 5th of November, found me here ; 
 
 come to welcome a little grandson of five weeks, leaving H 
 
 and M housekeepers at home. It was beginning to seem long 
 
 not to hear from you ; but I knew why you could not write. Yes, I 
 have shut my eyes many, many times to see " rosy pictures," in which 
 you were the central figure, in all these days since you left us. How 
 favored you are ; how happy all the little arrangements of these 
 weeks. I like to look at them as arrangements from our Father's 
 hand. I believe He gives to His children all that is good and beau- 
 tiful ; every earthly good that is safe for them to have ; and never 
 denies or disappoints, except for their highest good. 
 
 You said my words had cheered you ; why I cannot see how that 
 could be, with my " eyes shut." I have never seen any need of Aunt 
 Jennie's words. The charming Damon home, in Philadelphia, that 
 welcomed you and all the Centennial delights for your taste. Then
 
 196 BEST EARTHLY GIFT. 
 
 the New York friends, showing to you the " fairest flower of Chris- 
 tian refinement and culture;" with the ocean all bridged over, 
 through the full, dear letters from home. I have not thought I could 
 say a word that there could be any need of, so rosy and beautiful have 
 been all my "eyes-shut" thoughts of you. No, I do not tremble, 
 and "fear some reverse may come, because this is not Eden," as 
 some would say. All your present seems as a sweet compensation 
 from a Father's hand, according to His own word. " Heaviness 
 may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning" for all 
 who put their trust in Him. I am so glad, so very glad for all 
 your bright present, dear Frank ; and of all your future I read, 
 "Whoso dwelleth under the defence of the Most High shall abide 
 under the shadow of the Almighty." "The Lord shall preserve 
 thy going out, and thy coming in, from this time forth forever- 
 more." 
 
 And now over the sea stand Dr. Bacon's friendship and home- 
 shelter, and dotted all about the world are firesides with loving 
 hearts, for your father's sake, waiting your coming ; and more, 
 and best of all, shrined and hidden it may be, now, there is pre- 
 paring for you that companionship, God's best earthly gift to man, 
 the little hand that shall clasp yours, stepping into your path, that 
 you two may henceforth dwell together " as fellow-heirs of the 
 grace of life." No matter where she is, she may be the fair child 
 who played with you at your father's door ; or the little maiden 
 whose mental development you watched and guided in the school- 
 room ; no matter where or who she is, is she not in His keeping? 
 Enough for you to know Tupper's curious old line holds a beautiful 
 truth, though we smile : "If thou art to have a wife, she is on the 
 earth. Pray for her." 
 
 You are now in dear old Amherst. If you can find leisure for 
 just a word again, before sailing for Europe, I shall be glad to hear 
 how the sorrowing household now are. Though always glad to 
 do so, I do not expect to hear from you often. Through your dear 
 father I may hear sometimes; and the little island "Friend" may 
 tell something of your outside life. Our friendship does not de- 
 pend upon written words, we know. You cannot be so silent, or 
 go so far that love and prayer cannot follow you, dear Frank.
 
 A SPECIAL MISSION. 197 
 
 TO F. W. DAMON IN EUROPE. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, Monday, November 27, 1876. 
 MY DEAR FRANK: 
 
 Your letter came on Saturday, and now here is your pilot-postal; 
 how thoughtful ! And now a few words from the new home, and 
 then I can leave you in His care. I do that now. How very 
 near you were in my thoughts all yesterday, the dear boy on the 
 sea. Our little Litany petition, how you seemed in it: "That it 
 may please Thee to preserve all who travel by land or by water." 
 How cut off from human help in peril, but how secure ! Cradled 
 in His care was my only feeling. I say feeling rather than thought, 
 for is not His tender compassionate care to some natures a sense, a 
 feeling? This sensible nearness to God our Saviour we cannot tell, 
 can only feel its meaning; the relationship of nature-fellowship of 
 humanity with sympathies Divine a mystery baffling description, 
 but an intelligible possession to all who are in Christ Jesus. "And 
 God, even our own God, shall give us His blessing." What rest! 
 And, then, so able to succor. His compassion, his experience, 
 reaching into the darkest nights of the soul, so that He feels for us 
 and knows us as we can make no other friend feel and know. Our 
 lesson yesterday was St. John's beautiful and precious Good-Shep- 
 herd chapter, and it brought back your Sunday with us, and that 
 sermon we heard together. I said, "he has been put forth," but 
 One has gone before. 
 
 F is in New York, so I taught his Sunday-school class. How 
 
 eager and pleased they looked when I mentioned the Island friend 
 who had once taught them, and his letter written just as he was 
 about to sail for Geneva. All knew just where Geneva was, and I 
 rather promised them they should see you again when God brought 
 you back to this country. For will you not try to come to us for a 
 season, think you, in these days while "Aunt Jennie" is here? I 
 feel sure you will want to come. If it be true that "a brother is 
 born for adversity," how true 'tis an auntie may have a special 
 mission. I think I have. All that God has done for me, all that 
 I am, make my vocation, comforter in sickness or sorrow; my 
 affinities are there. I cannot help this. Other homes full of joy 
 and gladness may open to you in all these days of joy, "so sunny
 
 198 MRS. S1GOURNEY. 
 
 and bright," as you say; but let me have the shaded days, when 
 you long most for the dear "own home" far away. (How glad I 
 was, how I thanked Him for inclining your feet to me when sick 
 and suffering in the past.) Promise me this all I ask. 
 
 TO MRS. W. B. M. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, January 28, 1877. 
 
 " How strong and beautiful is woman's love! 
 That, taking in its hand the joys of home, 
 The tenderest melodies of tuneful years, 
 Yea, and its own life also, lays them all, 
 Meek and unblenching, on a mortal's breast, 
 Reserving nought save that unspoken hope 
 Which hath its root in God." 
 
 " A maiden hand, 
 
 Fresh from its young flower-gathering, girding on 
 That harness which the minister of death 
 Alone unlooseth; and whose power doth aid 
 Or mar the journey of the soul to heaven." 
 
 DEAR COUSIN "BESSIE:" 
 
 The above lines have been running through my thoughts ever 
 since my cousin left us yesterday morning. Old-fashioned Mrs. 
 Sigourney's sentiments seem just as sweet, pure, and beautiful as 
 when, a young girl of your age, I pasted them in my old scrap- 
 book ; though now my head is white with sixty summers! 
 
 I want so much to tell you how glad and happy I am for all that 
 you propose to try to do for this dear young cousin whom God has 
 made so lonely, by calling home mother and grandmother, the wife 
 of his bosom, and the invalid father. Surely, having known sorrow 
 so early and in such fulness, he is prepared to appreciate the hap- 
 piness before him, as from the one blessed "Giver of every good 
 and perfect gift." No earthly happiness is true and lasting that 
 does not rest upon the foundation of God's blessing. My cousin 
 tells me you know this; I am so glad. Then you must both be 
 happy, and every pain or care that may be permitted to cross your 
 path will only more and more bind and weld you to each other. 
 Let me assure you that the husband of thirty years is thirty times 
 more, thirty times better and dearer than he was on the wedding-
 
 TO REV. S. C. D. 199 
 
 day. The first year is said to be the hardest in the happiest mar- 
 ried life; no year holds our happiness secure without the divine 
 Helper's aid and blessing. "Willie" has been nurtured as the 
 child of prayer since his grandmother took him, a babe, to her 
 arms. No doubt a rich legacy is his from the young Christian 
 mother so early called away. My home was then in the East, I did 
 not meet her at all, but have heard much of her loveliness; and I 
 want you to know and love her sisters, for "W. B." must be very 
 near their heart the sainted sister's only child. 
 
 And whenever in the future you may feel a longing for an old 
 face, for mother or grandmother, will you not say, " I must go to 
 Delaware, to Cousin Jeanette ?" I do not like to travel at all, even 
 to visit grandchildren. Somehow our whole household feel drawn 
 to you ; so this perhaps too sober letter carries to " Cousin Bessie" 
 our warmest, loving greeting and welcome. 
 
 "Willie's" "Cousin Jeanette." 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 DELAWARE, O., February 15, 1877. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 Thanks for your letter. From hands so busy a letter counts a 
 
 large gift. After sending my letter, written while F was with 
 
 us, I felt almost sorry that I did not wait for more quiet and col- 
 lected thought and feeling about the dear boy; for could any one 
 born under New England skies understand my words? You and 
 Mrs. Damon would smile over the warm, unstudied, impulsive word- 
 ing, " If words had any meaning," etc. Well, I don't care, words 
 are miserable heart-pictures. I could not tell my feelings ; only 
 One knows my joy in seeing for myself that he was quite well 
 again, as He only knew the pain of that visit when he was such a 
 sufferer, and I had so many fears. I knew He heard prayer, the 
 parents', the friends' pleading prayer, and did hope much; but, to 
 see the answer in all its fulness, indeed words could not tell my 
 joy. How very soon the "afterwards" came with its "peaceable 
 fruits of righteousness !" No doubt God meant, through the dark 
 hour and discipline of youth, to lead his soul up into the higher, 
 better, and happier earthly life than he could have found without
 
 200 NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 that pain. Or, better still to say, He chose that way, so it was the 
 best and most blessed. 
 
 You ask, do I often hear from him? No; because I told him 
 my love does not in the least depend upon his frequent letters. 
 How close to you all he keeps ; and what a consolation to his 
 mother to know this, now that "the ocean is bridged over," as he 
 said when he received the first mail from the island loved ones. 
 How much the home-love deepened in the last three years ! I 
 liked to watch him talking of you all ; his love for father and 
 mother is no common love of an absent boy ; and first and closest 
 in his heart are his island friends. 
 
 How could you say those words of " thanks" and " obligation ?" 
 Love brings its own return, does it not ? And you forget that pile 
 of obligation our monthly " Friend" has laid up now for years 
 upon years. And do I ever say a word about thanks and obliga- 
 tion ? Can't you try to be as good as I am ? 
 
 You do not know how near to our home is your roof-tree ; how 
 often we talk of you all, especially when reading a book that we 
 like, and want so much to share with you. The children have read 
 to me lately a sweet Quaker story, "Aftermath; or, a Story of a 
 Quiet People." I wonder if you have it? It is not by a Quaker 
 author, but is about Quakers, leading the reader into the calm, 
 restful atmosphere of a Quaker home, so true to life, as my child- 
 hood knew the dear old Quakers. How I do love and honor 
 them in their calm, peaceful life ! You would like this simple 
 story, I am sure. 
 
 And now of evenings my husband is reading to me the " Life of 
 Norman Macleod." You have read it? I have no words to tell 
 my delight in this man. What a rounded character ! How full 
 of human nature, yet controlled by grace ! I get another lesson 
 from his life not to try to read the future of children while they 
 are being led through their first tottering, uncertain steps. Had I 
 been his mother, when he was in Weimar, I should have lost all 
 heart by disappointment and fear for him. Yet we see how in all 
 he was being led by his Master's hand ; and did not that very 
 ordeal fit him a necessary preparation for that station in life 
 to which God had called him to work for him ? And I do stand 
 with him in his loyal love for the Established Church (you know 
 I would). How strong and noble was his adherence, unselfish,
 
 THOMAS GUTHRIE. 2OI 
 
 and manly! "There is life in the old Church yet," he said. I 
 knew little before; this is the first I have read of the "disruptive 
 controversy." And Norman Macleod held on, parting from such 
 a grand man as Chalmers. Yes, I should have been with him, just 
 as I honor now those who hold on to the dear old English Church, 
 above "Reform;" rather without "Reform." Not that she is 
 perfect, but she holds the truth, and has pointed and trained many 
 sons and daughters for the heavenly Home ; and my Quaker taste 
 loves her old, old paths, as she is. We are not yet through the 
 first volume. Do you know of some book that can tell me just how 
 these parted parties worked since 1843, an< ^ now ^ n J 877? and 
 about the Church in Scotland now? 
 
 Last evening my husband brought in the "Autobiography of 
 Thomas Guthrie." I wonder why I feel (not think) I shall not 
 like him half so well as Norman Macleod? Have only turned the 
 leaves yet ; shall be glad to read it; but guess he is not one of my 
 kind of men. Did he stand with Chalmers and the Free Church? 
 I ought to say here that Norman Macleod has been brother to my 
 heart ever since years ago I read his "Wee Davie." A heart and 
 hand that could give to a simple story of a blacksmith's baby-boy 
 such power to soothe and comfort, are surely worthy of honor and 
 love. 
 
 What a talk over my book ! leaving little room to tell how 
 our "week of prayer" brought your island so close to us. In the 
 Methodist and Presbyterian churches meetings have continued 
 since. Now the evangelist, the Rev. Mr. W., is here for a month, 
 holding meetings daily in the Presbyterian church. I attend when 
 I can. I hope great good may be done. Crowds are drawn to 
 listen, and the old, old story is told in simplicity and earnestness. 
 May the Holy Spirit touch and raise every heart in -our congrega- 
 tions ! 
 
 H.'s baby, Kenneth, and the mother, we hope to have with us 
 as soon as the weather is warm enough. They let grandmother 
 name him, and is not my Scotch name pretty ? If ever another 
 such honor comes to me I mean to count a Norman in our house- 
 hold. How strong are the associations of childhood. The Sun- 
 day-school story-book, that dear Martha and I liked best of all, 
 "Anna Ross," had in it two brothers, Kenneth and Norman Mur- 
 ray, children of a Manse ; and these noble boys have kept their
 
 202 THE ALPS. 
 
 place in my heart all these long years. That story-book, I think, 
 did more for me in its impressions for good than any sermon, per- 
 haps than all the sermons I ever heard. Story-books, prayerfully 
 written, may be chosen channels for great good. Are the story- 
 books of this day prayerfully written ? 
 
 I want to send you some autumn leaves that dear F - , with 
 our children, gathered. 
 
 TO F. W. DAMON IN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, March 8, 1877. 
 
 MY DEAR 
 
 How happy I was to stand by you at your open window, and 
 drink in the mystical, dreamlike scenery of winter in the Alps! 
 Your word-picture gave me all, all, even to the heart-throb of 
 unison as we gazed with feeling, rather than thought, in the noon- 
 tide stillness, glad sunshine, and the air "so full of blessing." I 
 can hear the birds that wake you in the morning, watch the burst- 
 ing buds on the hawthorn hedge, "peopled with busy workers," 
 and count with you daily the fresh flowers opening their eyes to the 
 sun. Surely I am doubly rich in having my spring-time come thus 
 early. 
 
 Is it the words, the feeling, or the air, that makes your Geneva 
 picture all a poem, full of sweetest melody? See "the Alps in 
 snowy beauty, the silver lake mirroring the white-spread sails, 
 under the light and sunshine of the quiet noon; the roofs of 
 Geneva gleaming white all along the mountain base; and over the 
 cathedral towers the mist hovers like incense, and the very air is 
 full of calm and blessing." Now is not this a poem ring and music 
 strain? It is to my ear and heart, dear boy. In silence we stand, 
 with hearts going out far, far beyond and above things seen the 
 beautiful here, from our Father's hand, faintest type and shadow 
 of the glories of that better country eye hath not seen, nor ear 
 heard; and our souls find rest in the words of the little Collect: 
 "O God, who hast prepared for those who love Thee such good 
 things as pass man's understanding, pour into our hearts such love 
 towards Thee, that we, loving Thee above all things, may obtain 
 Thy promises, which exceed all that we can desire ; through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord."
 
 HENRY MARTYN. 203 
 
 You say truly, " Christian friendships are not for this life alone." 
 Indeed, so imperfect and weak are we, so bungling are our words, 
 so hard is it to perfectly understand and read each other's hearts 
 and natures, must we not know true friendship is begun much more 
 for there than here , when we shall see eye to eye, and face to face, and 
 know each other even as we are known? Why should we not often 
 dwell upon, in quiet thought, or in fellowship of words, the unseen 
 world that may lie so very near us? In such moments may not 
 the unseen ministry come very close? that cloud of witnesses, 
 clearing Faith's vision, and touching Hope's wing. Our Elder 
 Brother will be all in all. And shall not congenial spirits find out 
 each other? Friends here are not made, but found, 'tis said. I 
 have thought dear Martha (the sister your father liked best, only 
 liking me because I was her sister) would find Henry Martyn first 
 of all friends, delighting in fellowship with one who had touched 
 her young life, and moulded her spirit, under God. How she 
 loved to repeat his favorite hymn (152, Prayer Book), "The God 
 of Abraham praise!" There was something in the sacrifice his 
 tender, delicate nature endured, in giving up home and friends and 
 the one dearer than life, for Christ's sake, that knit her to him in 
 strongest sympathy. How she longed and prayed that she might 
 be a missionary, too, from her earliest childhood ! I think you told 
 me you had not seen the life of H. Martyn. How I wish you could 
 look over the large English edition that Martha read. "Did I en- 
 joy it as much as she?" No, we were not alike; the great unlike- 
 ness make us the one we were. Naturally I do not like to look up 
 so high to mortals. I would rather an out-and-out angel at my side, 
 or an out-and-out brother man with angel spirit (felt, rather than 
 ever seen or heard). "Dreadful! Aunt Jennie?" No, I don't 
 mean anything dreadful at all. 
 
 My husband has just been reading to me the "Life of Norman 
 Macleod," and /like him ever so much better than Henry Martyn, 
 and I cannot help it. He helps me more. Not through saintliness, 
 but his noble manliness. You are drawn closer and closer to such 
 a life through the magnetism of such a nature; such fulness of 
 sympathy, such broad, grand charities and true unselfishness, so 
 very human, therefore so brother-like ; on all sides the touch of 
 humanity, far from perfection, capable of mistakes, only a frail, 
 mortal, fighting brother-soldier of the church militant at your side;
 
 204 QUIET PEOPLE. 
 
 yet strong in the grace of God, upheld and upholding others, and 
 glorying only in the Cross of Christ. You have time to read only 
 in the line of study, I suppose. Some day you will enjoy Norman 
 as I have, and his noble loyalty to his dear old church. And then- 
 to see how sweetly went out his earthly life; one moment here, the 
 next there, in His presence where there is fulness of joy and pleas- 
 ures for evermore. 
 
 I am glad you are busy with your French, German, and Italian. 
 It is a kind Providence indeed that has led you on to all you have 
 and may possess. I see the great gain coming from a life of travel, 
 a rounded education, taking away all narrowness and implanting 
 true brotherhood of feeling and sympathy with all sorts and condi- 
 tions of men. Years ago we were interested in " Bruse's Home 
 Life in Germany," little thinking I should ever have a boy of mine 
 passing his Christmas-tide in that genial, charming home life, chat- 
 ting with D'Aubigne's wife, and taking sweet counsel with Pere 
 Hyacinthe ! (Now tell me, is he very happy with his wife? a model 
 husband? the envy of every Romish priest? Just "woman's ques- 
 tions;" you will please answer. And do describe his preaching.) 
 And those dear Scotch friends did they know my Norman? And 
 the old church of his love and trust, where stands it now in Scot- 
 land ? I kept with him, though Chalmers and all others went over 
 into the " Free Church." Don't laugh and say, " You don't know 
 anything about those Presbyterian Church matters." Of course I 
 do not ; but my Quakerism likes best old quiet " established" ways 
 and things. By the way, I think you would much enjoy a little 
 English story-book about the "Quiet People" of my childhood, 
 and the going over to the old English Church. It is called "After- 
 math ; a Story of a Quiet People;" just a woman's simple story, 
 but there is a character in it as artless, sweat, and pure, as Shakes- 
 peare's Imogen. I like the atmosphere and interest of the book 
 very much. May I hand it to you some day ? 
 
 Friday, P. M. What a talk about the Scotch minister! but not 
 at "the open window." We had turned our backs upon the fair 
 Geneva scene and were talking face to face, when you could only 
 see Aunt Jennie, faults and all. Can we tell how much we owe to 
 the power of imagination? I asked myself this last evening, rest- 
 ing on the lounge before the open fire ; a dull, rainy evening, hus-
 
 I LIKE EARTHLY PEOPLE. 205 
 
 band at the table by me writing to his Indian friend, the Rev. 
 
 Enmegahbowh, H chatting with a friend in the parlor, M 
 
 gone to an evening meeting at the Methodist church, F k to the 
 
 laymen's prayer-meeting in our own church, and F going to 
 
 sleep over his physiology in the corner. I closed my eyes and was 
 with you. 
 
 Since the "week of prayer" our little city has had evening ser- 
 vices in several churches. Then came an evangelist to the Presby- 
 terian church for a month. Earnest, interceding prayer has gone 
 up for His blessing. Is He not always more ready to hear than we 
 to pray? I think every Christian heart has felt the holy influence 
 of prayer and His fulfilled promise, " My doctrine shall drop as 
 the rain, my speech shall distil as the dew ; as the small rain upon 
 the tender herb, and as the shower upon the grass." 
 
 I should like to hear more about the Armenian Church, where 
 you find work for the blessed Master, all about what you do ; all 
 about "your own self," as the children say. You "have the 
 Episcopal service." I am glad. Now, not only in spirit, but in 
 psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, we cart be often together on 
 the Lord's day. "Don't I think," you ask, you "have a won- 
 derful father and mother?" Indeed I do, and that they have a 
 wonderful boy, too. You see, he in a real sense belongs to me, 
 and is there not always a glamour over all our own possessions ? I 
 don't at all believe he is an angel, but I like him better than if he 
 were more perfect. (That is "dreadful doctrine," too!) I like 
 earthly people so much. Now don't be spoiled by my fine 
 speeches, but soar away high above Aunt Jennie's standard. 
 
 Tell me that you keep quite well ; and do take plenty of exercise 
 daily. Much as I enjoy a letter from you, do not give one when 
 you are pressed for time; never in moments stolen from out-door 
 exercise or sleep. Dear boy, I shall love you all the same with no 
 letters. I' know how busy you are, and all the home letters you 
 have to write; then how much I thank you for these words before 
 me, and the Geneva blossoms from your hand ! I will divide them 
 
 with M , H , and J . She, J , has had a busy, 
 
 happy winter. My tears are hardly dried over my birthday letter 
 from her. What is more beautiful than a daughter's love? 
 
 Daily in my prayers I leave you wholly to the Elder Brother's 
 care and love. Underneath you are " the everlasting arms."
 
 206 SUNBEAMS. 
 
 TO REV. S. C. DAMON her last to him written six weeks before her 
 entrance into life eternal. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, July 6, 1877. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND: 
 
 I wonder if I can answer your kind note of April, with all this 
 
 chatting in the hall close by ? J , M , M , and baby 
 
 Kenneth ; J has found her trunk of old letters and composi- 
 tions, and I hear merry laughter as Martha reads, under old dates, 
 "jolly things." How much, how much we owe to these fresh 
 young hearts buds and blossoms that make fragrant our old lives! 
 Every day I think I do not count up these treasures as I should, 
 
 with return of love and gratitude. H is expected to-morrow 
 
 for a week's vacation from his office ; F and F are at the 
 
 store, Cousin J. is with a book on the parlor lounge below; so you 
 may glance at your distant friends this charming summer afternoon. 
 Daughter H is with a friend in Mt. Vernon, O. Sister Mit- 
 chell has been a month with her stepson in Columbus, also giving 
 me several weeks. Dr. Canfield was here last week. So you see 
 there have been many reunions. 
 
 Thanks for sending to me my dear sister's letter of March, 1853." 
 How like her own heart is this letter! How long it seems since 
 she went away! Oh so very much longer than the time until 
 we meet. When she was called home, what heart-loneliness was 
 mine! I remember saying to Dr. Tyng, " How can I get on with- 
 out this sister!" I did not know what comforters sharers in joys 
 and sorrows, sunbeams all about my path were growing up at my 
 side, these dear children, these daughters, so much more than sis- 
 ters could be. And you and Mrs. Damon are becoming rich in 
 daughters, too. His blessing surely rests upon you and yours, dear 
 friend. 
 
 As for F , does the sun shine upon a more happy fellow ? 
 
 Indeed it seems like dazzling high noon all the time with him. I 
 rejoice for his present golden days with the most cultured, scientific, 
 and earnestly religious minds of our age. Was there ever' a more 
 favored boy? Who can wonder if he become enchanted under 
 some lotus spell? You must please thank him for his joint letter
 
 A MOTHER'S TREASURE. 207 
 
 to "Aunt Jennie" and the " cousins." We shall wait to answer it, 
 should we ever be favored to see him again, and he come down to 
 mortals out of the enchanted land. You ask if we see his letters 
 that are published in the " Friend?" Indeed we do, reading them 
 with delight, as from one whom we dearly love, whose life we 
 believe God will make noble and grand with His blessing, even 
 that blessing that " maketh rich and addeth no sorrow." The 
 "Friend" with letter No. 5 has just been opened. You must tell 
 me from time to time' if you please, of his movements. Where is 
 he now? I am sure these "Friend" letters, and what you may 
 please to say, is all we should expect from him. My only one fear 
 for him is that he may be overcrowded with work or study. He 
 has made Geneva, Switzerland, so near to us. I am trying to per- 
 suade a youth just graduated from the college here to go to that 
 
 beautiful city to complete his education. His father, Mr. G , 
 
 was once an admirer of Mrs. Hyacinthe he tells me, and he is sure 
 she would become his friend. 
 
 H and M have been saying, "I am going to write to 
 
 Cousin Will Damon," for ever so many months. A little while 
 
 a g J' said, "Mother, / will write to Will;". so I now think 
 
 he will get a cousin's letter soon. Oh how glad I am to have this 
 "dear girl back ! She was gone one whole year. But the tears will 
 come at the thought of sparing her again ; yes, though I see all the 
 good, great and lasting good, I trust this year of separation has 
 given. And I see how He has sheltered one so defenceless, guard- 
 ing from every harm amid such danger ; so that I have her returned 
 to me all my own, with no heart-ruler coming between us. You 
 may laugh ; I am willing to spare my dear boys, but want to always 
 keep these daughters, selfish as this sounds. You do not know 
 what it is to own a daughter, read and hold her nature in your 
 hand, know her possibilities for misery or happiness; only a mother 
 can understand what I mean. 
 
 I ought to say, the "Mary and Kenneth" of my letter mean 
 H.'s sweet wife and baby; the " Cousin Jennie" is a young Phila- 
 delphia cousin. N and babies are at Atlantic City.
 
 208 SOUL HYMNS. 
 
 FROM MRS. PLATT TO REV. GEORGE DUBOIS, a young 
 Methodist Minister. 
 
 DELAWARE, July 23, 1877. 
 DEAR MR. DUBOIS: 
 
 I am tardy with my thanks for your two books from the brother- 
 in-law's library. The rich, pure soul-hymns are the more sacred, 
 and filled with more power, from having about them, here and there, 
 the little imprint of what God made them to another soul, one now 
 on " the other side," in His presence, where there is fulness of joy. 
 So many of his marked passages seem perfect. Over and over 
 again I have read this : 
 
 " Man's weakness, waiting upon God, 
 
 Its end can never miss; 
 For men on earth no work can do 
 More angel-like than this." 
 
 And 
 
 " 111 that He blesses is our good, . 
 
 An unblest good is ill ; 
 And all is right that seems most wrong, 
 If it be His sweet will." 
 
 When the books came our house was full, our summer reunion 
 of children and grandchildren giving me no leisure, so I let your 
 other book slip at once into a "mission," I hope. Poor Mr. G. 
 (Rev., I believe) called to return a book of mine by the same 
 author, and I ventured to put into his hand-your book. Was I very 
 wrong? .... , 
 
 Have you ever seen Norman Macleod's "Wee Davie," a tiny 
 book? When Mrs. T returns it I want to send it to you.
 
 WONDERFUL LOVE. 2Op 
 
 XIX. 
 
 "I will surely show thee kindness for Jonathan's sake." 
 
 Letters to a nephew J. H. C. Heart-talks Deep interest in the spiritual devel- 
 opment of the son of her dearly-loved sister. 1865 to 1874. 
 
 The manuscript copies of these letters were sent to her nephew for review. He 
 returned them with the following appreciative note. 
 
 May 27, 1881. 
 MY DEAR UNCLE : 
 
 You have given me such pleasure-pain, such sweet bitterness in 
 the task which you assigned me ! Just at the close of my fourth 
 year here, a year which God has kindly crowned with marked 
 success in a life which has already become an absorbing passion, 
 surrounded by those to whom my heart goes out in such a sincere, 
 tender, helpful, affectionate interest, you place before me the 
 loving words of one who, perhaps, more than all others, except 
 my own parents, would have delighted in this success in the path 
 Which she herself pointed out to me years before it seemed to be 
 among even the possibilities. What a night this has been, as alone 
 in my library, with the evidence of my daily life thrust aside, I 
 have opened my heart to all the influences of her counsel, the sweet 
 words of the days gone by. With all the keenness of my appre- 
 ciation, how far short I fell of the wonderful love for me of this 
 foster-mother. How little did I realize its depth and strength ! As 
 years have broadened and deepened my experience, as I find my 
 own children about me, I begin to see how much we all lost when 
 this pure, earnest, all-loving spirit left us. I wonder now that you, 
 of whose very self she became a part, and whose daily life she ever 
 cheered, did not suspect, long before we lost her, the presence of 
 hidden and angelic wings. 
 
 The compiler was obliged to give up the work of copying per- 
 sonally the following letters of Mrs. Platt to a favorite nephew. 
 He gave them for this purpose into the hands of a beloved friend 
 14
 
 210 A LOVING TRIBUTE. 
 
 of hers. What he says of them is such a fitting preface, and such 
 a loving tribute to their author, I take the liberty of inserting it 
 here: 
 
 "As you read the letters over you will see revealed anew the 
 sweet and lovely character of her who was so unspeakably dear to 
 us. It seems almost as if you could hear her voice, so natural to 
 herself is all the written thought and sentiment. Her letters were 
 always what she herself said genuine letters should be, 'heart- 
 talks.' It islhis that gives them their preciousness. Sometimes it 
 is almost startling, the unreserve with which she speaks. Her brain 
 and heart appeared almost as one, so inseparably were they blended. 
 What one thought the other felt, and both were always visible in 
 her letters. Throughout this entire correspondence what strikes 
 one the most forcibly is the clear, serene faith in God's providence, 
 that nothing could ever darken. Again and again she tries to im- 
 press on her young nephew the lesson which she herself had learned 
 long before, and found so full of consolation and peace. This 
 illimitable faith in God was, I think, the grand attribute of her 
 character. Lying at the very foundation of her being, and per- 
 vading all her life, it was this, perhaps, above all things else, that 
 rendered companionship with her so elevating and inspiring. To 
 live within her influence was to dwell in an atmosphere not alto- 
 gether earthly." 
 
 TO HER NEPHEW, at Williams College, Massachusetts, where he had 
 entered the fall previous. 
 
 DELAWARE, March 12, 1865, 
 
 Wednesday before Easter. 
 
 MY DEAR J. : 
 
 A few hurried lines from sister E., received Monday, informed 
 me of your intention to be confirmed on last Sunday morning in 
 your father's church. The notice came too late for me to be with 
 you in spirit; but I cannot tell you, dear boy, how often since 
 unbidden tears of joy have come. My precious sister's prayers 
 thus fulfilled ! May she not, nay, must she not, have been with 
 that "cloud of witnesses" hovering o'er? In her own sweet 
 words:
 
 A MOTHERS PRAYER. 211 
 
 " O dwellers of the skies ! 
 If from our sight the mist that dims it flee, 
 Angelic forms, bright spirits should we see, 
 Heaven's blessed band, in rapture hovering o'er. 
 Oh ! should the seal that binds our listening ear 
 Melt now away, what music should we hear ! 
 What sounds of joy from every golden lyre, 
 Soft breathing forth the spirit's kindling fire ! 
 New songs of praise to Christ, the Lamb, are given, 
 And lofty strains sound through the court of Heaven. 
 
 Deep, fervent prayer, 
 
 Breathe forth for those thus kneeling there ; 
 
 For they have turned from earth with solemn vow, 
 
 To make the Lord their God their portion now. 
 
 Oh, many foes will seek to lead astray, 
 
 Therefore for these lift up thy heart and pray ! 
 
 A rugged path it may be theirs to tread, 
 
 A bitter cup to drink of anguish dread ; 
 
 A few short years may cloud each youthful brow, 
 
 So brightly fair, so clad in beauty now. 
 
 Oh, therefore pray that to each soul be given 
 
 Strength to endure till rest is gained in Heaven ; 
 
 Hope that may live when earthly pleasures fade, 
 
 Peace that may bless when foes the breast invade." 
 
 These words may be familiar, but I could only speak my heart 
 in her thoughts. There remains yet one other wish unfulfilled; 
 that God will call you by His grace to preach the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ, to stand in her beloved brother's place, who 
 
 Dwells amid the throng 
 That Jesus' praises sing. 
 
 May the Lord bless thee and keep thee, my sister's precious boy, 
 and guide thee into all His holy will ! A mother's prayer en- 
 circles you. 
 
 Lean on your Saviour's arm, youn shield and guide ; 
 Fear not your spirit to His care confide; 
 
 He shall protect you through the years to come, 
 To find at last one rest, one heaven, one home. 
 
 Dear James, these are your aunt's loving thoughts for you, that 
 would thus go to you. I do not expect reply ; you can have but 
 little time for letter-writing, and I have become a real old lady as
 
 212 SEVENFOLD REGRET. 
 
 to correspondence, and very seldom write, amid my sevenfold 
 baby cares. But I expect fully the time will come that Aunt Jennie 
 and thee will know and love each other well. If I am called away, 
 these cousins, children of your mother's nearest, dearest sister, will 
 be dear to you, and you will ever seek their highest good in years 
 to come. 
 
 From a letter to her nephew, written the next day after he had 
 left her house, where, with his father and sister, he had been visit- 
 ing for a few days. The visit was highly enjoyed by Mrs. Platt. 
 It gave her great d.elight to entertain the husband and children of 
 her own dearly-loved sister once more. 
 
 DELAWARE, May 3, 1865. 
 MY DEAR BOY : 
 
 We did, indeed, sadly miss you. Sevenfold regret was ex- 
 pressed in seven different ways by the seven. M wanted to 
 
 go up to "M 's bed" soon as she awoke, and begged her father 
 
 to say no more about such a bad story, when he proceeded to say 
 you were all gone in .the cars. They will never forget your 
 pleasant visit, not one of them. I believe God's blessing will rest 
 t upon it. A bright, brave, manly spirit, joined with an earnest 
 desire to do only right, will ever hereafter be before the boys in 
 their own cousin James. God bless you, dear boy, and everywhere 
 make you His chosen messenger for good ! . . . 
 
 I was so glad you had that talk with N about dancing, on 
 
 your way home from Dr. M 's. You hold just your mother's 
 
 views, and I believe mine are the same, and it seems strange N 
 
 does not think and feel with us. But you can hardly take into 
 account the force of surrounding influence of companions and 
 older church members, not only our own people, but of other 
 denominations, too. When your mother and I came first to Dela- 
 ware we found mothers attending a "female prayer-meeting," with 
 most earnest prayers for their daughters' conversion ; and the next 
 day, perhaps, fixing them for a dancing party! "Could see no 
 more harm in dancing than talking away an evening," etc. I do 
 not know of one here who holds the pure, true, old-fashioned 
 views of "Annie Sherwood." Did you know that "Annie's"
 
 A BLESSED TREAT. 213 
 
 school history and character was a living portrait of your mother? 
 All the characters were drawn from life. 
 
 How very pleasant to look back over your visit, though it was 
 so hurried and confused, of necessity. There are some who always 
 pay for pleasure ; T am one. But a pleasure that is not worth pay- 
 ing for, is to me scarcely worth having. I am almost well again, 
 and am only so glad and thankful that you came. 
 
 DELAWARE, Independence Day, 1865. 
 
 MY DEAR NEPHEW : 
 
 i 
 
 The kittens, chickens, Mary in the kitchen, and I, are keeping 
 house. Uncle, with the seven, has gone a carriage load of the 
 younger, gentler kind, and a wagon-load with provision baskets, 
 F. and F. G., and H. following for a family drive and picnic in 
 the woods, near a beautiful spring some miles "down country." 
 So I am going to make a little visit to Williamstown this very pleas- 
 ant summer morning. 
 
 I have taken the little room by the parlor for my own this sum- 
 mer, so you may drop in at any time and see how much more quiet 
 and orderly and comfortable we seem, now that our yard is made 
 ' comparatively private, sodded and grassed, with the door of my 
 little room opening on the old porch, with its pleasant shade of 
 vine leaves, and clustering bunches of fruit, hanging-baskets, etc. 
 Your visit (in April) was all hurry-flurry, with no quiet moment; 
 but never mind, it was all, every moment, full of enjoyment to me 
 
 and mine. To N especially it was a blessed treat. The warm 
 
 brotherly interest of one older, yet a companion in age, was so new 
 and pleasant] a fresh spring of enjoyment, I guess she never knew 
 before. I believe she is always liked and greatly respected, for her 
 points of character are those of genuine true worth. Hers is a 
 peculiar character, certainly like neither father nor mother. Yet 
 I do not fear for her happiness, even in a temporal view. Her 
 truthfulness, frankness, and want of secretiveness, I consider all as 
 safeguards and warrants. of happiness. Such characters are never 
 renowned for wisdom or power; they may be imposed upon, but 
 they never impose upon others, and may pass along life with heart 
 "void of offence toward God and man ;" so with inward peace and 
 quiet, and far less trial and temptation than fall to the wise and
 
 214 GOOD OLD TRUTHS. 
 
 wary. Observation and experience lead me to think the maker of 
 such characters keeps them under His more especial care. I must 
 look upon your acquaintance as a source of pleasure and supply of 
 need given from His hand 
 
 Wednesday, July 5th. 
 
 I could not but look out with you on the calm Sabbath scene, and 
 hear all the sweet country sounds, with good old "Coronation," 
 that met your ear when you last wrote. My heart home has ever 
 been in the country. "God made the country," and man the 
 busy, smoky, jostling town, sung Cowper ; and so say I. But as 
 we get on and on through life's journey we more and more learn 
 that the soul's happiness and holiness depend so little upon exter- 
 nals, surrounding circumstances. It seems, indeed, that the most 
 favorable periods to the poor pilgrim's view, when he feels just 
 ready to exclaim, "This is the gate of heaven," now I can rest, 
 rest, and hold close communion with God then it is our great 
 enemy, "as an angel of light," is permitted to come especially 
 near, to mar and spoil what is enough like Eden to be his especial 
 hate. It is a long way on the Christian journey before we can 
 fully learn and believe this, and know it is in the fiery furnace, 
 lion's den, or Peter's prison cell, that the soul feels the sweetest 
 peace and closest communion with God our Saviour. God places 
 each child, doubtless, in just those circumstances most favorable 
 for his growth in grace, so that with a cheerful heart and willing 
 feet we have only to daily strive to "do our duty in that slate of 
 life unto which it shall please God to call us," as teaches our in- 
 valuable catechism. 
 
 You must not forget your mother's prayer-book, while feasting 
 on the good old truths of Congregationalism. The more the one 
 is learned and tried and proved, the more strong and pure and 
 true will the other appear, our own old paths. I have not a fear 
 for you, dear boy. God will guide and keep you, and teach you 
 all His holy will. Your whole future is safe with Him. 
 
 Mrs. Platt had written to her nephew asking him to become 
 sponsor for her youngest child. This letter is in reply to his ob- 
 jecting to assuming that responsibility, because of the geographical
 
 A HIGH CALLING. 215 
 
 distance between the families, and the probability that they would 
 never be much nearer. 
 
 The child died in infancy six months afterwards. 
 
 DELAWARE, Day after Christmas, 1865. 
 
 Truly, most deeply, can I enter into all your feelings about "the 
 great responsibility," the "most solemn duty of the Christian guar- 
 dianship" of a child. If another can so estimate, how must this 
 press upon a parent's heart! You can never know, dear boy, until 
 you come to bear that relation to a child the anxious, agonizing 
 moments, sleepless hours, when the care of children can only be 
 borne as it is carried to Him who has said, "casting all your care 
 upon Him." Yet, if only faithful, it is a high calling and most 
 blessed privilege to thus receive these little ones as from Him, 
 simply believing His own word, "Take this child, and nurse it for 
 me, and I will give thee thy wages." 
 
 It is a loving and beautiful provision of our church that provides 
 for parents, helpers, in their children's sponsors. Parents cannot 
 turn aside from their care and duty; God has laid it upon them. 
 Is it not the same voice and leading hand calling to duty when a 
 parent says, "Will you be sponsor to my child?" and a little lamb 
 of His fold is thus carried to you for your prayers and Christian 
 guardianship so far as He enables you ? I think so, and that no 
 Christian has the right to turn away in any case. He can only do 
 for the child all that is in his power. Hindering circumstances are 
 not of his appointment. Personal unfitness can be supplied from 
 Him "who strengthened all." If a child grows up knowing she 
 has her sponsor's prayers, God has cast a shield and blessing about 
 her path, though she may never see that sponsor's face, nor hear 
 one advising word from his lips. Perhaps our loved little one may 
 be early called to the Good Shepherd's sheltering arms, and will 
 need no earthly guardianship or care. Certain it is, dear James, 
 she can have no other sponsor but you besides her father no other 
 godfather. So while I love and honor your motives, and fully 
 "believe you acted in refusing, only in accordance with what 
 seemed duty," "the only course that seemed right," I am not 
 at liberty to accept your refusal. We want some one to be here 
 when we are gone. I was intending to write you, when her father 
 suddenly decided upon the day of leaving for his Eastern trip, and
 
 21 6 OUR NURSERY. 
 
 the baptism we did not wish put off. He might never return. So 
 in the hope you would yield to our request her father stood in your 
 
 place, with her aunt H and sister N . And the baptism 
 
 is entered in the family Bible as above. "Parents shall be admitted 
 as sponsors if it be desired." But we desire you, and no other, 
 dear boy, and so I will it shall stand, for the next five years at 
 least. Then, should this little lamb be spared, and you still 
 continue to urge release from our wishes, we will again consider 
 the subject. Till then, though this may be a point of difference 
 between us, it is not going to do a bit of harm. 
 
 I was very naughty not to tell you (when I wrote to ask you) 
 that the baby had already been baptized, was I? I don't think 
 so. It was only the wisdom of the serpent, and harmlessness 
 of the dove. If I had said, "It is passed, you would, I know, 
 decline at once, without even considering the subject. No one 
 would even an old and mature Christian seek such a responsi- 
 bility, or accept it, unless he felt God, by his providence, called 
 
 him to the duty. N felt even more averse than you do, and 
 
 nothing I could say moved her. But the Rev. Mr. French, a 
 dear family friend, providentially coming, said a few words that 
 helped her much ; and she at last consented, in hope and belief 
 that you would be with her as a helper by your prayers and counsel, 
 in the years and duties to come. Should the parents be called 
 away, I have fullest confidence this, their earnest, prayerful wish, 
 will bind you in these loving Church bonds to this orphan child, 
 and our N will not be alone with her sacred cares and duties. 
 
 I wish you could just peep into our nursery this evening. At 
 
 our left father and F are deep in backgammon. H on 
 
 the right, lost in "Our Young Folks." H is knitting away, 
 
 and J has just come in from putting M to bed, and says 
 
 it is "not near bedtime, she has had so little time to read to-day." 
 
 F sleeps on the lounge close by, and your little C sleeps 
 
 sweetly in her crib. She is the most lovely, though not at all the 
 most beautiful, baby we ever had. I never had such comfort in a 
 little one. 
 
 Monday morning. 
 
 I am always so glad to hear from you. Busy boy, that you are, 
 I cannot expect to hear often ; and then you will have to take a
 
 MY LIFE WORK. 217 
 
 poor, short reply, not an answer at all. Since Christmas I have 
 had no nurse, and baby used up pretty much all the time, as there 
 is no child I am willing to keep from school. So I must just be 
 nurse till one turns up, which, I trust, will be soon ; for, indeed, 
 I do not love to sit all day and rock babies, and answer questions 
 to a noisy group of little ones, who seem to think " mother" 
 means a body to answer questions, tie shoes, and settle differences 
 from morning till night. But yet I do most heartily (if not always 
 most patiently) accept this as my life-work, and feel constantly to 
 count over my treasures and call out, " Who, who is richer than 
 I?" It seems like but poor work, doesn't it? But if I am fit for 
 nothing higher? Well, I am fully persuaded of this: God sur- 
 rounds each child with just those circumstances that, with His 
 blessing, will most surely and safely bring him home at last. 
 
 How I wish you were here to keep the feast of Lent with us. 
 'Tis truly a precious, consecrated season, this yearly "protracted 
 meeting" of our beloved Church. 
 
 Friday, March 23, 1866. 
 
 I hardly know how to lay down baby; yet, as Quakers say, am 
 so "drawn" to say a few words to thee. Just because in a letter 
 
 received lately from sister E she mentions, " J has been 
 
 reading ' Goode's Better Covenant,' and likes it so much ; you 
 know how much his mother loved it." I am so glad you have 
 read this book, so great a favorite of your dear mother and myself. 
 It was one of the books she "drank in" her own expressive 
 phrase. You are almost, if not the only, young person that has 
 been drawn toward this book, as I have heard, for so many years; 
 though I have urged so many, and offered my dear old copy in 
 vain. I began to settle down into the conviction that the taste of 
 young people had changed entirely. I wish you had my old books, 
 with their pencilled margins by your dear uncle's hand.* There 
 were six years that he waited, after he had to put by all hope of 
 entering the ministry. I can see him now that feeble frame, 
 lovely face, in its clear, childlike expression, so full of noble, 
 manly thought, sitting in quiet thought over these books and his 
 little paragraph-Testament. There is another book he liked much, 
 
 * Her brother, James Hulme.
 
 2l8 A MISSION OF LOVE. 
 
 published about the same time with "Goode's Better Covenant," 
 "Russell's Letters, Practical and Consolatory; Designed to Illus- 
 trate the Nature and Tendency of the Gospel." Its motto, "These 
 things we write unto you, that your joy may be full;" with an in- 
 troductory essay by the Rev. H. Boardman, of Philadelphia (Pres- 
 byterian, you know). 
 
 There, I have given most of the title page. If you should like 
 ever to have it, and it is not within reach, let me loan you these 
 dear old volumes. I am so glad you like these old things, dear, 
 dear boy ! It seems as if in you, her own boy, we were again side 
 by side, reading and feasting, as in days never to return. That 
 precious, precious sister ! But who, who would call her back to 
 earth ? No ; rather let us all press on to join her at the marriage 
 supper of the Lamb. 
 
 Darling baby is very unwell, and I have had broken rest for 
 many nights, so cannot be very bright, though with unchanging 
 love. 
 
 DELAWARE, June 10, 1866. 
 Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 MY OWN DEAR J. 
 
 You are never altogether out of sight and mind. Believe this 
 when weeks pass, and no tidings reach you of our loving interest. 
 The past has been a season of unusual care and anxiety, my own 
 and baby's health so poor; the little darling so feeble and back- 
 ward in every respect; now past ten months, yet seeming in strength 
 and intelligence a babe of three or four. The doctor took her en- 
 tirely from my care, and now, weaned, we see improvement; but 
 not in strides, but slow, not quite imperceptible creeps. But I 
 think the conflict, the bitterness of struggle, is past. I trust His 
 peace has come for the darling ; and I have been brought to just 
 leave her in his hands, who doeth all things well. She has been 
 sent to us on some mission of love; I know this. If I cannot 
 wholly read it here, I shall know hereafter. 
 
 " Sweet to lie passive in His hand, 
 And know no will but His." 
 
 I owe you two or three letters ; it is too bad. N 's school 
 
 will -close in a week or two, then she will write. With school and
 
 A MISSIONARY SPIRIT. 219 
 
 baby care, dear child, she has always a burden large as she can 
 carry. How I wish you could come and see her this summer. Do 
 
 you know you can never do so much for our N in any other 
 
 way? It would cheer and comfort, reward and bless her, in the 
 fullest sense, "so it would," as children say. Now, won't you 
 come? Think how many, many years / went without seeing my 
 precious sister's boy. And now the sweet intercourse seems to 
 bring the mother back. Your letters, I cannot tell you how in 
 spirit they are hers. The often playful manner is all "Aunt 
 Jennie." So you see, these letters in a very sacred, loving, and 
 also in a very selfish, conceited sense, must be uncommonly pleas- 
 ant to me. 
 
 By this time you have heard of your father's unexpected visit. 
 I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed it. He was always a pleas- 
 ant brother to me, and I think this visit he was more as in days 
 past. For, dear boy, the calling away from his side such a spirit 
 as your mother's, left a mark, a loss; a sad, sad loss to him it was. 
 I think the holy influences that were at work about his path this 
 winter have not passed in vain, but left upon him a refreshed, re- 
 vived spirit in his Master's work. No doubt you too are a blessing 
 now to him, a real helper and sharer in his work, unseen, unguessed, 
 but yet direct, powerful influence for good from above; the return 
 of the wife's prayers, through her own boy, upon the best beloved 
 of her heart. 
 
 You like Henry Martyn just with your mother's warmth. I 
 never liked memoirs, as a general thing ; she always did. Per- 
 haps all she became in religious character (so remarkable Dr. 
 Tyng always considered her) was, humanly speaking, formed by 
 this sainted man of God, Henry Martyn. I think she honored and 
 revered him, as she did no other, as the holiest, most truly devoted 
 of men. From the time she knew him (through his memoir) her 
 whole heart glowed with a missionary spirit. To go to Persia, to 
 teach those dark children of Jesus how her heart longed to be 
 permitted to do this! How well, how well I remember! She was 
 then but a child in years. She gave herself up to the Lord for this 
 work, and all her home work, infant-school, Sunday-school, and 
 Bible class, etc. etc., afterward was done with the same burning, 
 loving, consecrated missionary spirit. I must copy for you some 
 day a piece of poetry, her favorite at that early period.
 
 220 HONOR THY GRANDMOTHER. 
 
 Did you ever put upon your shelves "Cecil's Remains"? James's 
 little favorite. I am so sure, from the cast of your mind, that you 
 will like it. And " Payson's Thoughts," that was another of his 
 
 little books 
 
 But I must get my long dozy letter to the mail. 
 
 DELAWARE, December 23, 1866. 
 Fourth Sunday in Advent. 
 
 I had not a moment when I sent off your little book to tell you 
 why I sent it. I do so love to feel that you and M. are grouped 
 with our own little ones this blessed gift-season, and always remem- 
 ber you in some token of no value, only as Aunt Jennie's gift with 
 her true love. A country village is no place for suitable selections. 
 Miss Proctor has written some sweet poetic verses, if she is a Ro- 
 manist; I thought you would think so. Was tempted to send a 
 copy of the "old-fashioned" Poems by Mrs. Hemans, but the copy 
 was so badly bound. Besides, I had not time to trace out in its 
 margin all the pencil-marks made by your dear mother in the whole 
 family copy which was hers and mine, a Christmas gift from our 
 brother James so many, many years ago. This was her favorite 
 book of poetry; "answering spirits" I always thought them. What 
 readings and talks we had over those little volumes ! No one speaks 
 of Mrs. Hemans these days. Nevertheless, some day you shall own 
 a copy (if you have not one already) just for the mother's sake. 
 
 This letter is in reply to one from her nephew telling of his 
 Chistmas vacation, passed at his grandmother's house. 
 
 DELAWARE, February 4, 1867. 
 
 I am always so glad to hear from you. I do believe the older 
 we grow the more we turn to young hearts. I am glad you felt it 
 
 was right to pass your vacation in A . Not until you number 
 
 as many years as they, can you know how much comfort and delight 
 is the boy grandchild and grand-nephew to the grandmother's and 
 old aunty's heart. Next to a mother^are duty and honor due a 
 grandmother. It is but a little way that they can be with us on 
 life's path. Mine were called hence before my remembrance; and 
 my children are without theirs. I well remember your Aunt P.,
 
 SWEET- REST, HOPE AND PEACE. 221 
 
 though all the circumstances of my sorrowful visit to Vermont* are 
 indistinct. Yet her simple kind attentions, our many little chats 
 together as I lay sick upon "the alcove" bed (in her room, I 
 guess) I do well remember. She gave me a tiny Methodist hymn- 
 book, in which I wrote her name, as a parting gift. To do all in 
 your power to cheer and comfort these aged relatives is just what 
 your dear mother would wish. Consideration was, perhaps, the 
 beauty of her character. 
 
 You have indeed been snow-bound all over New England, and 
 everywhere almost. -We have stood 28 below zero one day, the 
 next 32 above! That is Ohio weather; I don't love it, though I 
 do love Ohio. The young folks have had plenty of sleighing, too. 
 
 You seldom get to Episcopal service, do you? How sweetly 
 suggestive of comfort and hope was the Collect for yesterday ! (4th 
 Sunday after Epiphany). It seemed sent to comfort me. Will you 
 not every Sunday remember me and mine, in reading with me the 
 "Collect, Epistle, and Gospel for the day"? 
 
 DELAWARE, March 2, 1867. 
 
 You cannot well understand how I enjoyed your letter ; how it 
 comforted, soothed, and refreshed my fainting heart, being sent 
 to me on a day when I most needed its setting forth of the precious 
 old truths truths the more and more precious the longer tried and 
 tested. Every word I appreciate, and thank you for with all my 
 heart. I believe your letter just lifted my feet, and fixed my eye 
 upon the Helper, and sweet rest and hope came back, and there 
 has only been peace ever since. Help and direction seemed to 
 pour in, whether I looked at God's Word, or opened other books, 
 or tried to read the whispering voice of His providence. All said, 
 " He abideth faithful." " Wherefore doubt, O ye of little faith?" 
 
 Goulburn's "Thoughts on Personal Religion." You will not 
 at all like his views on the sacraments. But, indeed, this does not 
 taint the book, nor make it less wonderful as a practical help and 
 comfort to all earnest Christian people. Since seventeen years of 
 age, when I read (rather studied) Dr. Tyng's "Law and the 
 
 * This refers to Mrs. Plait's visit in September, 1855, immediately after the 
 death of her sister, Mrs. C.
 
 222 TOM BROWN. 
 
 Gospel," I have never met with any book that I thought ought to 
 so benefit me. Everyone may not like it, but I wish you could see 
 it, and read carefully a few chapters at least. I should put " Devo- 
 tional Reading" to be read first, but the author does not. N 
 
 thinks the chapters on prayer the best she ever read upon that sub- 
 ject. "Alms-giving" and "Temptation" I like so much, too. 
 Here and there I meet with a sentence /should not have said. I 
 think it cannot be read without a blessing to an earnest, prayerful 
 mind. 
 
 DELAWARE, March n, 1867. 
 MY OWN DEAR : 
 
 With my foot on the sewing-machine, which I ought to be turn- 
 ing this moment, I am going to say, your good- night sleepy kiss 
 
 just reached me I only sawj^w, in "Tom Brown at 
 
 Rugby." His genial naturalness, his warm whole-heartedness, 
 his above all pretence and shams, his out and out boyishness in 
 his love of all out-door things and doings, in the way he walked 
 into everybody's good graces, and took hearts by storm, because 
 his own unselfish nature made him able to give everybody his own 
 due, and understand and draw out all the good in those about 
 him ; above all, his genuine truthfulness, that could not put on or 
 deceive, even if he wanted to do so ; all his first letters the very 
 words and thoughts seemed as if "our Jeems" wrote them. I 
 declare, Tom went right into our hearts, so much so that I could 
 bear with a good deal from him at Oxford all the first volume. 
 But sad (for him) to say, patience died out in the second, and you 
 disappeared, and I about gave up my pet Tom altogether. My 
 former letter was written before I read the last volume ; yet it is 
 so well written, and contains some excellent sentiments. But some- 
 how I dare to question its usefulness. Such drinking and carousing, 
 and billiard-playing and gambling ! and Tom giving countenance 
 far too much and too often, and he a professedly religious boy, 
 too. I was so sorry, and ashamed of him so often. What do you 
 think about "Oxford" Tom? 
 
 J heard your letter, as I read it to N , and seized a pen 
 
 and scribbled off a letter in a few minutes, saying she " would not 
 let me read it for the world j" so I let her send it just as it is. 
 
 I will remember you to "Delaware friends." You could not
 
 THE RIGHT WAY. 223 
 
 have a more lovely, simple-hearted, cultivated cousin, than our 
 
 F S . She is a lovely girl by nature, and through grace, 
 
 I trust. 
 
 J permits me to put this in her "delicately-tinted" envelope. 
 
 Saturday Morning. 
 MY DEAR BOY: 
 
 (I wonder if you would rather not I should use this address ? 
 Just what your mother would say comes always before me when I 
 am thinking of speaking to you.) I am so glad to have you write 
 
 to N . Our cousins are very much as brothers and sisters, and 
 
 it is something to have such an elder brother come into the family 
 just as character is fixing for life. 
 
 You said something in N 's letter about my not thinking 
 
 your playful "talk very like that which a C should write." 
 
 Now I think a letter is but a free, full, outspoken talk from heart 
 to heart, as though seated side by side. Any way that is perfectly 
 natural is the only right way, and the sure way to gain the reader's 
 heart ; and that must be first done if ever we hope to influence for 
 good, don't you think so? When the influence is gained, then 
 advice and counsel will be received and followed, not till then. 
 It was your cheery, pleasant, unsolemn manner that took the hearts 
 of all these cousins. 
 
 DELAWARE, July 29, 1867. 
 
 . Now I have given you quite a peep into my nursery, 
 for which you must tell me all about yourself and your poor back. 
 Does it pain you all the time? Is it more easy when you lie down? 
 How many weeks and months of your dear mother's life were 
 passed on the sofa! Nearly all her books and bits of poetry were 
 written on her portfolio as she reclined. How her loving heart 
 would mourn over your present trial, if she could now be busy 
 about you ! Ah ! God has not permitted you to know the sooth- 
 ing, helping comfort of a mother's love. But may she not now 
 minister to her precious boy? I know, dear child, she is not 
 troubled about you. On " the other side" she sees'things not as we 
 look at them. Every appointment, every pain from that Father's 
 hand, she knows is sent in love. "Forever with the Lord," 
 "knowing as she is known," that tender mother's heart that was
 
 224 A PURE UNSELFISH WOMAN. 
 
 so torn with anguish when she saw her children suffer here, now 
 trusts them to the Lord. " He doeth all things well." 
 
 Does reading increase the pain in your back ? I wish I knew 
 what kind of books you like. People differ in taste for books as 
 much as taste for food. Surely, in this world of books, everybody 
 can be suited. A new book seldom gets into my hands before it 
 is old. Last week I was charmed with " Memoir of Cousin Alice." 
 She was a woman above women ; yet your mother was high above 
 her. Yes, high above. "Alice B. Haven" was "our Martha" 
 from earliest childhood, in principle too lofty, too pure, too unsel- 
 fish for mortals to appreciate. Yes, that was your mother, lost 
 to you until she welcomes you to her heavenly home. 
 
 For this week's reading on the table is "Catharine," by Adams 
 (author of "Agnes and the Little Key"); you will not like that, 
 but under it is the "Diary of Kitty Trevyllan." I suppose you 
 have read it? If not, I guess you would like the simple, sweet, 
 quaint old English style. I like it so much, even better than the 
 "Chronicles." So far as I have looked into it "Kitty" is sweet 
 and fresh as a primrose; with a heart so unworldly, a real rest to 
 look into in these days of artificial goodness, worldliness, expedi- 
 ency, that cover everything and almost everybody 
 
 "The Bow in the Cloud," by Macduff, is a little book so full of 
 comfort. Ask your father to bring it to you, and look it over for 
 my sake. 
 
 DELAWARE, November 10, 1867. 
 2 1st Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 MY OWN DEAR J. : 
 
 Is it easy to believe a call is thoroughly appreciated and 
 enjoyed, when there is not one outward sign of response? Your 
 letter was so welcome, so son-like in its loving thoughtfulness of 
 my missing the dear elder children, I simply could not answer 
 have not been troubled at my seeming neglect, for I am sure every 
 loving, generous act has its reward from Him who notices every cup 
 of cold water given in His name. Doubtless the reward has re- 
 turned unto your own bosom. It may have been in the sweet 
 peace and "quiet mind" (as the little Collect for to-day has it) 
 "through Jesus Christ our Lord," shed down upon you these past 
 weeks.
 
 LITTLE THINGS. 225 
 
 My good Mary has not come back yet, and with N away it 
 
 has been impossible to write letters. Some days I am a little too 
 tired ; but still we have done wonderfully, and the children have 
 learned much that is useful .... 
 
 When the hour for church came the bed seemed the place most 
 suitable, and I do not know how I got ready and went only as 
 helped and influenced by One who loves and knows what is best for 
 us. How refreshed I came home! with new life, new strength, 
 new hope. Truly "they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their 
 strength." " Who is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and 
 sanctification, and redemption," was the theme. The Lesson was 
 Naaman's story. To "go and wash" seemed such a little thing; 
 so are kneeling in the house of prayer, searching the Word, but 
 little things; yet God has joined unto these little acts His richest 
 blessing. 
 
 Sunday Evening. 
 
 I was interrupted, but will try to finish now, though my eyes 
 do not like lampliht. I did not mean by my "weariness" of this 
 month that the soul was cast down. There are times, after many 
 years have passed, when you will find the body seems to triumph; 
 its needs, wants, weaknesses,, overpower the spirit, but 
 
 All unseen the Master walketh 
 By the toiling servant's side, 
 
 and as the day, so is his strength. 
 
 I have thought a good many times to-day, after the refreshment 
 of the sanctuary, there may have been many others thus helped 
 and blessed through the house of prayer. How great the honor, 
 how unspeakable the privilege, to be made the bearer of these 
 messages of love and mercy ! the position and work that angels 
 might covet. "Beautiful" indeed are their feet. 
 
 It may be as well not to know your future work, while storing 
 your mind and preparing for life's battle; yet my prayer is that 
 the Lord will permit you, and call you to His service. 
 
 The following letter answered one in which was reflected a long, 
 
 trying, though not severe, illness, in the midst of many self-assumed 
 
 duties outside of college work, and in the very busiest part of senior 
 
 year; in every respect the most intense of her nephew's academic 
 
 15
 
 226 SAFELY KEPT. 
 
 life. Impatient at what seemed to him undue dependence on his 
 father's care than which none could be more loving and gen- 
 erous he had already determined to sever his connection with 
 home as soon as he should be graduated ; and, in a half-morbid 
 way, could see nothing but years of drudgery and toil for mere 
 existence. This was the feeling which prompted the expression 
 about another visit to Philadelphia, to which reference is here 
 made, and which colored the entire letter. 
 
 The portion about "early engagements" sprang out of some 
 merry banter in a previous letter of Mrs. Platt's, in which she 
 played upon the expression "heart disease," which her nephew 
 had written her he sometimes feared. 
 
 DELAWARE, January 21, 1868. 
 MY OWN DEAR J : 
 
 If I thought you were all quite over the cold, and the strong 
 well senior was up, I would begin my letter one way, and not as I 
 am going to just as I felt when I laid down your sheet of the i2th. 
 (If there is no kind of chime in your heart, just lay it away until 
 the next cold comes.) 
 
 " Poor, motherless boy!" I said; and before me seemed those 
 yearning, tender, loving, trusting eyes; that only belonged to your 
 mother. What the writer of that letter would have been to her ! 
 the answering heart-beat that would have gone out ; the wrestling 
 prayer for God's best blessing upon him; for His guardianship 
 over his health, outwardly in his body, and inwardly in his soul ; 
 that He would keep his feet, so that every moment of his life, which 
 had been given through her, and counted and loved as part of her 
 very self, should be laid at the Redeemer's feet, used only for 
 His glory. 
 
 Nearly "through college." Oh, what would not that mother 
 be to you now, dear boy! We would not call her back, we need 
 not. More than mother's love, more than mother's sympathy, 
 more than mother's power, encircles you, "about your path, about 
 your bed," keeping you in all your ways. He took her in love from 
 you; for are not all His dispensations only love towards His chil- 
 dren ? And He Himself, therefore, will supply your every want. 
 
 Now you stop and wonder, "What did I write, that brought all 
 this tide of feeling over Aunt Jennie?" Nothing at all; it just
 
 EARLY ENGAGEMENTS. 227 
 
 came. But you are your mother's own child, and, write as you 
 will, your letters always say, "Martha, Martha," to me. 
 
 You speak of your "glowing plans" for vacation five weeks. 
 I was going to say, when fiftieth Christmas holidays are reached, 
 how few glowing plans would come through the tide of past ex- 
 periences that must come over them. But, then, I don't know that 
 the glowing principle ever does get old, does it? Never mind 
 about the Western cousins. What is denied one vacation may be 
 fully granted at another time. This Christmas was not the time, 
 you see. So I think we should try to take all, little and great, 
 " crossed purposes," in the very childlike spirit so often and much 
 enjoined for our feeble imitation ; as the baby, with one look up 
 to his mother's face, forgets the toy forbidden, and takes up an- 
 other to his heart's content. 
 
 I am so glad N is with M , and in good, kind care. 
 
 How shall I repay the ten thousand kindnesses shown her during 
 
 this visit? "Critical" Miss H has written me such pleasant 
 
 words about her; "everywhere leaving pleasant impressions," 
 
 John says, and Dr. B , etc. How does this make her mother 
 
 feel? Humble, grateful to the loving Hand that has so marked 
 this dear child's unselfish devotion, and weary tasks for her mother 
 and little brothers and sisters, and kept it from doing her any harm, 
 and now gives to her this full reward, in which her mother, too, so 
 largely shares. She is now just at the age when, perhaps, young 
 life is fullest. I rejoice for these few months untouched by care. 
 
 Why do you say, " It may be years before I shall be ever able 
 to make even such a hasty trip to Philadelphia again?" I have 
 no faith in " Sheldon water" for a Buckeye boy. What he wants 
 is the old .Delaware spring, with powerful curative properties as 
 Virginia's White Sulphur, from which his auntie daily carried the 
 little "sulphur stones" to bathe his baby face. 
 
 And now about "early engagements." Who said Aunt Jennie 
 doesn't like them ? I do not like long engagements ; I know they 
 seldom have a happy end. I do not want any child of mine, or 
 you, dear J., to try it. I will not trust myself to write upon this 
 theme, pages would have no end. But I am alone by my little 
 open fire, and I suppose you have run away from your books 
 (senior studies never stop, I believe), and close by my chair are 
 trying to gravely listen to what I say upon this " merry theme."
 
 228 PRAYERS ANSWERED. 
 
 Ah, dear boy, is this a " merry theme ?" He who has so wonder- 
 fully strung and tuned these hearts of ours only knows their deep, 
 deep needs. With my fingers in your hair I would lovingly say to 
 you, dear boy, marry young. Never until then will your one great 
 early loss be soothed and supplied, and your heart-longings be 
 stilled. It is God's gift, sweetest, dearest, most 'precious gift, this 
 human love. Yes, with God's blessing, with His favor and friend- 
 ship and love, sweetly intermingled with life's duties, lessening 
 every burden, hallowing every trial, diminishing every cross, every 
 heart must testify, "holy," blessed " estate of matrimony." 
 
 Some natures seem as if they can afford to live alone (not because 
 they have so much heart); some seem to have been called to live 
 alone, and to such He can make good even that which he pro- 
 nounced was not good. I will tell you just what I would do, if I 
 were you ; I would settle it that I was to be married, and leave the 
 whole matter with God. How? Do you ever see a book that has 
 decidedly had its day, " Tupper's Proverbial Philosophy?" Well, 
 somewhere in his own odd way he says this thought (not his words, 
 I guess): " If I am to have a wife she is now upon the earth; I 
 will pray for her." I know of a young maiden who did thus pray 
 for the one who was to be her companion, when there was no desire, 
 thought, or imagination who that one was to be. To-day she looks 
 back over many, many chequered years of " His ways not as our 
 ways," and believes the true deep happiness of her married life is 
 the present answer to those girlish prayers. 
 
 The young Christian should leave all the future with his God. 
 " Give us this day our daily bread" means the soul's needs as well 
 as the body's. He arranges all the events of our pilgrimage for us. 
 Who shall be the closest, nearest companion, the helper.or the hin- 
 derer, can that escape His care? We go on, in our daily work for 
 Him, in "that station of life to which He has called us;" and when 
 His time, His way, has come, surely as was His promise of old, 
 " He will send His angel before," and discover the fair Rebekah, 
 or meditative Isaac. "The thing proceedeth from the Lord." 
 
 And now unto Abraham's God I commend thee. May "the 
 Lord, before whom I walk, send His angel with thee, and prosper 
 all thy wayl"
 
 HANDS FULL. 2 29 
 
 DELAWARE, Whitsunday, May 31, 1868. 
 
 I believe there are as noble, pure, and perfect women now walk- 
 ing the earth as in Bible days, or any period of earth's history. 
 And this is the observation and actual knowledge of a very narrow 
 life, shut up in a secluded home. In such a little, little circle I 
 know of married women and young girls so high, so noble, so un- 
 selfish, so devoted, that no man is able to measure them ! There, 
 that is just my opinion of "woman." Ruined and fallen as she is, 
 "first in the fall," she still holds her heaven-appointed place mid- 
 way between man and angel only as much below angels as man 
 is below her. You laugh? Well, I can afford to let you laugh, 
 as you are only a poor man ! 
 
 Well, let this now truly "merry theme" pass. I did not mean 
 to say half a dozen words, but see how; the pen has run on, in 
 scarcely a Sunday talk; only, to me, this topic has a sacred side. 
 
 But now to the children. N not at home yet! with such 
 
 heart-longings for her. Still her father insists we ought to let her 
 remain for the benefit of a summer in the East, and all my friends 
 here, who know of her close confinement and devotion as a sister 
 and daughter these years, say to me, "O do let her stay longer!" 
 But I am getting homesick for her. Can't you bring her home 
 this month? Dear J., you can do nothing this summer that, I be- 
 lieve, will be so full of real work for the Master as a visit to these 
 
 western cousins. J needs you (what is an own cousin worth, 
 
 if he is not to use?) She is fast getting on out of childhood. 
 What a check, close intercourse with a manly cousin would be to 
 a pretty, wilful girl, who is inclined to feel older than she is ! 
 Ah, my hands are more than full. A poor, weak mother that 
 never was "trained," or touched in character herself by any but 
 heavenly discipline, w.hat can she, does she, know of training chil- 
 dren ? And seven immortals in her charge ! If she could not 
 "go and tell Jesus," if power was not promised to the faint, and 
 strength to them who have no might, she would be without hope 
 
 indeed. M and F , and H (dear "mother's girl"), 
 
 what good seed your visit might drop into their hearts ! a bright, 
 brave Christian cousin's visit, without one word directly spoken to 
 them!
 
 230 MONEY OR LOVE WHICH? 
 
 Her nephew graduated in June, 1868, and in September went to 
 C , Iowa, and accepted a situation with a Railway Construction 
 
 Co. 
 
 This letter is in reply to one received from him at that place. 
 
 DELAWARE, October 16, 1868. 
 MY DEAR J. : 
 
 I had just written my last letter to N , and said, "Bring 
 
 home, be sure, J 's address," when J bounced in with, 
 
 "A curiosity, mother; a letter from cousin J !" Of course I 
 
 opened //. "Particular Nell" would not have said no. I just 
 want to shake you for not telling us at once your whereabouts soon 
 as you reached your quarters. It was shameful. Were you afraid 
 of being flooded with letters from your native town? There is no 
 way to get over this treatment but to take that shaking. When can 
 that be? Now, I do not like plans, so do not say, "Plan a visit 
 to us Christmas holidays;" but I do say, "In your heart deter- 
 mine, D. V., 'I will see dear auntie and cousins before the new 
 year.' " That will be only sensible (very important for a half 
 Yankee), and only loving and right (which is more important for 
 a half Jerseyman). Dear J., I must see you soon. Now I beseech 
 you, don't take a Yankee look over the question "it will cost too 
 much." And, as for wisely laying up, which is worth most, a heap 
 of money or a heap of love? Now I will give till Christmas to 
 solve that question. 
 
 I answer your note to N by return of mail. Don't be 
 
 scared. I write few letters, my eyes are so bad ; and I am getting 
 too old for much letter-writing. And it has been impossible to 
 
 find the time this year past, with dear N away. How I have 
 
 missed N words cannot tell. But her. father had decided a 
 
 summer East for her. It had to be. 
 
 With you we enjoy the daily report of General Convention mat- 
 ters. Ah, our beloved Zion is passing through troublous days, 
 fiery trial. But "He sitteth as a refiner and purifier;" that is the 
 comfort, the hope. In six troubles He has' stood by her, in seven 
 no evil shall touch her. The Lord reigneth. 
 
 I am glad you are West, glad you have this season for waiting 
 upon the Lord. I want you to take full time to " walk about Zion
 
 A QUIET TALK. 23! 
 
 and go round about her; tell the towers thereof, mark well her 
 bulwarks, consider her palaces." 
 
 You are in the Good Shepherd's hands. If He needs you He 
 will call you. And even as St. Paul you will testify (Gal. i. 15, 16). 
 Laid at His feet are the mother's prayers for her darling boy. His 
 eye is upon those prayers. Every desire of them will be answered 
 in His way, His time. 
 
 DELAWARE, January 10, 1869, 
 
 First Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 MY OWN DEAR J. : 
 
 I have not forgotten your letter all this time not at all. Early 
 in November, our faithful servant Mary, who has been with us 
 about four years, was married ; since, a family of eleven, and no 
 " help," has left me no leisure for letter-writing. A peep at yours 
 of November 2&th brings back the old question, " Why did you 
 attempt to change your handwriting?" It was good in itself, and 
 so like your mother's. I cannot, will not, try to like your present 
 style. "Then let it alone!" do you say? So I will. I inclose 
 Mary G.'s card, recommending her as a good teacher to improve 
 your present curious girlish style. I hate back-hand, as I always 
 told her ; but she declares it was born in her, and she never could 
 write any other way. You can't say that. But don't be moved 
 from anything by a woman's words never ! 
 
 Well, you did not come Christmas, as you ought; and I may as 
 well slip by' the precious season, and bring you at my side this very 
 Sunday afternoon, with a peep at each one of us. You and I are 
 at the great dining-table in the dining-room for quiet talk, away 
 
 from the little ones, F and M , who are with their father 
 
 in the nursery. He has just finished reading a library book to 
 them, and has opened his commentaries and books to prepare the 
 usual Sunday afternoon Scripture lesson for the family, which we 
 
 have before church in the evening. N was busy with her book 
 
 when I passed through the parlor, " Goulburn on the Study of the 
 Bible," I think. What comfort I have in her, now I have her back, 
 no words can tell. Her health has never been so good, and her 
 whole character has so matured and strengthened by the discipline 
 of her twelve months' visit. I say discipline, for the dear child 
 saw life in many aspects. There were many shades and lines a
 
 232 A TREASURE. 
 
 mother could not have chosen for her to see. But infinitely more 
 tender love than mother's guided all, and, I trust, brought to her 
 and those visited His own rich blessings, even that blessing "that 
 maketh rich, and no sorrow is added to it." I understand this 
 child now as I never did before. All these years of training she 
 has been almost incomprehensible, with a childhood and girlhood 
 so totally unlike my own. But I see now, she is her father's 
 child. And God has given me in her just what I most needed, 
 and what is best for these brothers and sisters. Such patient thought- 
 fulness and gentleness, what a treasure at the 'head of such a turbu- 
 lent household, under such a mercurial mother ! I would not now 
 alter one trait of disposition, if I could, for all the world. Above 
 all, there seems to have been such a deepening of the religious 
 character, what and all I had so often begged for her. Oh, shall 
 I not tell of His praise, who has done this, with thankfulness, and 
 trust Him more and more wholly ? . . . . 
 
 I greatly enjoyed the "week of prayer," going of evenings into 
 the little Presbyterian meetings (Mr. Ufford has no meetings). I 
 
 suppose it was observed in , and that our prayers often 
 
 mingled. This morning Mr. Ufford's sermon brought you very 
 near, when so touchingly speaking of the great need of laborers in 
 the Lord's vineyard. Oh, that the Lord would call my own dear 
 boys ! that he would accept you for His work ! If He has denied 
 to you those gifts and that grace that would fit you for that service, 
 then I desire to say for myself and for your mother, His will be 
 done! Then be "diligent in business," and consecrate at least 
 one-tenth of your increase to send some other young laborer to do 
 the work not permitted you. I laid by for you, dear, this old letter 
 of your uncle's. May God speak to you through the words of him 
 called to minister in the upper sanctuary ! May his mantle fall 
 upon you his perfect consecration to God ! 
 
 My heart is too full for words upon this theme. 
 
 Mrs. Platt most earnestly and prayerfully desired that her nephew 
 should consecrate his life to the service of our Lord and Saviour in 
 the work of the ministry. She frequently spoke of it, and often 
 mentioned the subject in her letters to him. In a letter, dated 
 Easter Monday, April 18, 1870 (he was still in Iowa), she writes :
 
 HANNAH'S 'PRAYER. 233 
 
 Yes, I want this burden to be laid upon you to the very utmost. 
 "Why, Aunt Jennie !" Yes, I do, dear boy; for I think God is 
 giving you this fulness of business life that your active spirit may be 
 satisfied to come back to a student's quiet, reflective life, with such 
 freshness of joy, such restful comfort, as you have never yet known 
 or guessed. That is what I wish, that is what I believe for you, the 
 precious child of my sainted sister's prayers ! This business portion 
 of your life was necessary training ; part of His plan for fitting you 
 for His highest service. He is preparing you, who called you by 
 His grace, and revealed His Son in you, that you may preach Him 
 among the heathen (Gal. i. 15, 16). /may not live to see it, but 
 I fully believe the time will come when you will testify, with St. 
 Paul, as a preacher of the Gospel, "And they glorified God in 
 me." 
 
 Come and take up your abode in Gambier Seminary. Who can 
 
 tell ? God may draw my own dear F to follow. Do I see any 
 
 present indications in that direction in him? Not any. But "with 
 God all things are possible." Hannah's prayer was heard; her 
 boy was accepted and called to His temple service. Hannah's 
 prayer must ever follow my boys and you as long as I live, joining 
 your own mother's one desire for you ! Oh, I would rather my 
 son should "be a doorkeeper" in the service of the ministry, take 
 the lowest position in earnest work for Jesus, than accept for him 
 the highest place that man can offer. But I leave all to Him who 
 is wonderful in counsel. The call can only come from Him. I 
 do not speak thus to my boys ; but you are now choosing life-work 
 in one sense. May God hold and guide your feet and heart ! 
 
 A BIRTHDAY GIFT. 
 " If we suffer we shall also reign." 
 
 MY DEAR J. : 
 
 I found among my papers the inclosed. It seems as if fresh from 
 your mother's pen. Such a true picture of that heart ! I felt that 
 the child who was, as she said, "a part of myself," ought to have 
 these verses in his keeping. In all the sufferings God may call 
 you to know, you can herein read from whence you derive the 
 capacity of suffering. I will not add my poor words. May she, 
 being dead, yet speak and comfort !
 
 234 POEM. 
 
 THE HOME-CIRCLE. 
 
 They meet once more around the hearth, 
 
 Within their children's home, 
 Where, 'mid their own sweet household mirth, 
 
 Is heard no jarring tone. 
 The lamp sheds down its cheerful light 
 
 On youth and beauty there, 
 On manhood in his conscious might, 
 
 On woman, gentle, fair. 
 
 The father with a smile of pride 
 
 Looks on each form so dear, 
 And strives his tenderness to hide, 
 
 To check the starting tear. 
 Long years of sorrow, toil, and pain 
 
 Are all alike forgot; 
 His home, his loved, his all remain, 
 
 Earth has no happier lot. 
 
 The mother's heart with love o'erflows, 
 
 Sweet tears of rapture rise ; 
 Bliss deep, untold, her bosom knows, 
 
 Bound by these tender ties. 
 She gazes on that happy band, 
 
 And thinks of years to come, 
 And prays that to a brighter land 
 
 The Lord may lead them home. 
 
 And they who thus from childhood's years, 
 
 Have shared one common home, 
 United in their hopes and fears, 
 
 Nor wish from thence to roam. 
 Oh, brightly do their bosoms glow 
 
 With joy, untouched by care, 
 And sweetly do their voices flow, 
 
 So gently mingling there. 
 
 A few short years have winged their flight 
 
 How desolate that hearth ! 
 How lonely is that home, once bright, 
 
 Hushed are the sounds of mirth. 
 There is no form within its walls 
 
 Once seen amid that throng, 
 Deserted are its empty halls, 
 
 Unheard youth's merry song.
 
 POEM THE HOME CIRCLE. 235 
 
 That father's smile, that mother's voice, 
 
 Have passed from earth away; 
 And they who did once here rejoice, 
 
 The young, the fair, the gay, 
 Their joyous meetings now are o'er, 
 
 Around thy hearth, sweet home; 
 Wide-scattered o'er their native shore, 
 
 In distant climes they roam. 
 
 Some 'mid the dreams of youth and love 
 
 Have sunk to peaceful sleep, 
 While lone and sad in heart they rove 
 
 Who, true, their memories keep. 
 Soft eyes that then so brightly shone, 
 
 Arg dimmed by silent tears; 
 So changed those brows, we scarce would own 
 
 The friends of early years. _^ 
 
 And must swift time such changes bring, 
 
 Thus sever strongest ties ? 
 Thus pass away each cherished thing 
 
 We love below the skies ? 
 Yes, 'tis the voice of God doth speak 
 
 To every fainting breast, 
 " In heaven a lasting portion seek, 
 
 This, this is not your rest." 
 
 And shall the loved ne'er meet again, 
 
 That happy, blessed band ? 
 Oh, when the Lord doth come to reign, 
 
 They shall together stand. 
 Tho' severed wide their sleeping dust 
 
 May rest on shore or sea, 
 Earth shall resign its precious trust 
 
 Then shall their meeting be ! 
 
 If by one Lord, one Saviour led, 
 
 They pilgrims dwell below 
 United in one common Head, 
 
 One joy, one hope to know, 
 Then shall all sorrow ever flee 
 
 And gladness, peace, be given; 
 Oh, joyful shall their meeting be, 
 
 All saved, all blest in heaven ! 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, Jan. 25, 1837. MARTHA C. HULME.
 
 236 A YEAR OF TRIAL. 
 
 The severe illness of his father following his withdrawal from 
 his old parish in B. and other changes in family affairs, had com- 
 pelled her nephew to resign his place in what even then seemed 
 the " Far West," that he might be nearer the home family, and at 
 liberty to respond to any call that might come. He had been 
 studying law in the leisure hours since graduating, and in the 
 spring of 1871 entered an office in J., M., to complete this work. 
 The change involved a painful struggle, especially in necessarily 
 deferring his marriage. It is, doubtless, to all this that reference 
 is made in the two following letters. The first was written just after 
 a visit to Delaware, on his way from the East to his new field of 
 labor. 
 
 
 DELAWARE, Sunday afternoon, April 16, 1871. 
 
 Yours of the ^Ifrnade you very near. How often my precious 
 sister's boy is before me ! Your letter gave me much pain sym- 
 pathy, but not sorrow, nor regret, nor doubt; not one shade of 
 doubt as to your plain duty, or as to God's overruling blessing that 
 will surely be the end of all this year of trial. One has placed you 
 in the furnace who ever will sit by. The fire can burn no higher 
 than He wills; -it can rise only to that point necessary for highest 
 good. Do you know, I believe this will be the enviable year of 
 your life! Not only when we can look back over all the way the 
 Lord God has led us, but even here Jesus would never suffer such 
 pain and trouble to come to his young child if He was not holding 
 in His hand some great good He Himself will give as the great 
 gain, the end, the true meaning. For you there is nothing but to 
 "endure as seeing Him who is invisible." Not a distrust should 
 you suffer. For has He not all power? Can He not take care of 
 all that is upon your heart? You should not say, "and if." The 
 future is dead, the past is dead; your duty is now only with God's 
 present. If you nobly battle as a brave soldier of Christ Jesus, 
 swiftly and sweetly will the three hundred and sixty-five days pass 
 away; more and more learning just what the Saviour is in "the 
 time of trouble," the meaning of " a very present help." Forever 
 you will look back upon this one year as the brightest and happiest 
 of your life below. I am sure of this; God's Word is full of this 
 testimony. 
 
 I cannot, will not, think of you as suffering. I will not so doubt
 
 AN ENVIABLE YEAR. 237 
 
 His goodness who has said, "I will not leave you comfortless." 
 He is able to so keep in perfect peace, in the peace which passeth 
 understanding, ever a poor, trembling woman's heart that wholly 
 trusts in Him, that she can "glory in tribulation." I say again, 
 this is an enviable year; a year of walking "not by sight;" a year 
 shut up to but one arm for support, and that the blessed Master's; 
 but one bosom on which to pour out sorrow, and that the dear 
 Redeemer's. How angels must watch ! How they could covet 
 such mortal privilege ! How about your path may hover that 
 mother's spirit ! God bless and help and keep you! I have no 
 fear for you, my precious boy. 
 
 And now God's one way of healing and helping a bleeding 
 heart is through that heart's trying to help others. May He lead 
 you into a year of fulness of work for Him! One little mite in 
 this direction will be, I think, your answer to your young cousins' 
 longing to see you. We are all settled so snugly in our pleasant 
 
 little new home, which N calls "Oak-Tree Lodge." Oh do 
 
 come and see us very soon ! 
 
 V 
 
 DELAWARE, Sunday afternoon. 
 
 " That we may perceive and know what things we ought to do and have grace to 
 perform the same." 
 
 My sister's precious boy, how through and through my heart 
 has been this one prayer for you all this day, and ever since you 
 left! That God will " keep you from all things hurtful," and lead 
 you to follow only His holy will. Then all will, must be forever 
 well. " God has a plan in every man's life (I wish you would 
 borrow from some minister's library Bushnell's sermon upon Isaiah 
 xlv. 5, "I girded thee, though thou hast not known me." You 
 would so surely find such sweet comfort and help in the great 
 thoughts of that sermon). 
 
 You said you should go to church this morning, and you were 
 before me through all the services. The fulness of the sweet 
 Psalter-promises seemed all for you: "My hope is in Him; He 
 only is my strength and salvation ; He is my defence, so that I 
 shall not fall." Did not you mark that promise, " Thy loving- 
 kindness is better than the life itself?" That is, God, our own 
 covenant God, will make up for all losses, all crosses, in the life
 
 238 SUCH A FATHER ! % 
 
 of a soul that simply trusts in Him, and seeks first to do His will. 
 So that we cannot, dare not, say, "this cross-event, this unchosen 
 course will make me miserable." God, our tender-loving Father, 
 with more than mother's love, never led or suffered a child of His 
 to go into a path that would make him miserable; or where he 
 would not be happier than in any other path. For He Himself 
 can make up for all loss. I can only pray for you. May His 
 peace wholly possess your soul ! * His wisdom be a shield and 
 guard about every thought, desire, and purpose, so that you shall 
 not fall. 
 
 I do not write this for any answer, but from the fulness of my 
 love and sympathy. The heart is often too sore for words for 
 mortal" ear. But "when my spirit was overwhelmed within me, 
 Thou knewest my path." It is just here, in and through such 
 experiences, that we come to know and prove our Saviour's tender 
 love and sympathy, as we never knew before. God will direct your 
 steps; I feel so sure of this. He will not "suffer you to fall," 
 and "though you fall you will arise again," for He upholds you 
 with His>Dwn hand. 
 
 Her nephew wrote of the great kindness of his new acquain- 
 tances, and of the warm friends he made among them, especially 
 of the family of the senior partner of the firm with whom he was 
 studying. Their house became a veritable home to him. 
 
 DELAWARE, April 23, 1871, 
 
 Second Sunday after Easter. 
 
 Your letter of last week to J (parts of which she let us share 
 
 with her) was such a comfort to me. It seemed a comment upon 
 these words of our lesson this morning, "I did know thee in the 
 wilderness, in the land of great drought." Your letter seemed to 
 verify this declaration. How God has already shown His loving, 
 ever mindful care over His tried servant ! How many little 
 helps and avenues of refreshment have been opened to you ! 
 Surely from no other's hand than "the Giver of every good and 
 perfect gift." I knew He would care for you; yes, care even for 
 your happiness such a Father as He is ! 
 
 How often you are in my thoughts ! And in church, this morn- 
 ing, how the above words brought you so near ! I am going to
 
 GRAND OLD TRUTH. 239 
 
 mail a little old book for your Sunday meditations, though I sup- 
 pose you can have but few spare moments on that day. I send it 
 for two reasons : because its quaint, old-fashioned style teaching 
 of the grand old truth, " God's sovereignty and wisdom," took 
 possession of my own heart, I think, when I was about your age. 
 
 I had it from our Scotch uncle's library, Cousin J 's father, 
 
 a forlornly printed old leather-bound book ; but what beauty and 
 freshness have again and again come over my path through its les- 
 sons ! It touched my heart and life for help, perhaps, more than 
 any other next the Bible. That is one reason ; and I fancy your 
 long attendance upon good, sound, strong, Congregational preach- 
 ing, while at college,* will prepare you to appreciate Thomas Bos- 
 ton's sermon, or treatise. 
 
 But if you do not happen to fancy it I should better say, 
 have any relish for it consider that a sure, good reason for not 
 reading it, according to Goulburn's theory, which I think good 
 sense and correct. His (Goulburn's) "Thoughts on Personal 
 Religion," and ".Pursuit of Holiness," "written for busy business 
 men;" if you have not yet read them, get them from your good 
 minister, most useful books published for many a day, I think, 
 with many, many who have read them. 
 
 May God ever bless and keep you ! 
 
 Over-work and anxiety brought on an attack of brain fever. 
 Though he quickly rallied, he was obliged to go slowly with his 
 work, and wrote despondingly of future strength and usefulness, 
 and even of prolonged life. The following was part of the reply : 
 
 WHITSUNDAY, May 27, 1871. 
 " Man is immortal till his work is done." 
 
 MY OWN PRECIOUS J. : 
 
 I am not going to answer your last except for a few brief words. 
 My heading is a fact you will not dispute. If premonitions were 
 God's plan for showing and preparing us for His future will con- 
 cerning us, again, again, and again would my life have been closed 
 long years ago. That is not God's usual plan. " Go work in my 
 vineyard; I may call thee in the morning, noon, or midnight." 
 
 * Williams College, Massachusetts.
 
 240 A PREDICTION. 
 
 "As thy day so shall thy strength be ; for my grace is sufficient ; 
 my strength is made perfect in weakness." 
 
 " Foredate the day of woe, 
 Thou alone shall bear the blow." 
 
 " Strength is promised, strength is given, 
 When by God the heart is riven." 
 
 I know, dear boy, that you have no dread ; nor have you the 
 right to look ahead. Life is a wide, wide sea just now, a raging 
 sea to you. What can a poor, tempest-tossed mariner see ahead ? 
 Exhausted and blinded by the storm is he, with no hold but the 
 strong, firm grasp of the Pilot's hand. But, oh, how safe ! 
 
 DELAWARE, Sunday eve. 
 
 . . . . Were you to sit down in a professor's chair, in some 
 Western college, would not this life-work be as much to your taste, 
 and in your line of talent ? Next to preaching comes teaching, as 
 I reckon. An educator of the mind and heart is only one remove 
 from the soul-trainer, soul-seeker, Christ's own ambassador. I 
 cannot think the law just suited to your excitable temperament. 
 But you will, I have not one doubt, follow on to know just what 
 He has for you to do. There is one Eye always upon your path ; 
 can there be a misstep and He not see, not prevent, if it be best ? 
 Any disappointment, pain, or care touch the life of His child, and 
 He not interpose, if it be best ? Away from all second causes, 
 turn ever and only to the one Governor supreme. Be assured your 
 present was part of His plan, and therefore right and best. No 
 matter if you cannot see and understand it now. God is a Father, 
 desiring the happiness of His children ever ; never willingly afflict- 
 ing, or giving or permitting one pain that could be safely spared a 
 child. So, for some reason seen by Him, your highest happiness 
 required the present trial, to be a gain to earthly happiness, as 
 well as eternal gain, I doubt not. 
 
 In a letter to her nephew, under date June 8, 1871, his aunt 
 manifests her anxiety for his health, urging him to take his father's 
 advice, and go abroad and rest from head-work a while. She 
 writes:
 
 OUR FATHER'S LOVE. 241 
 
 I am tempted, if I knew Miss C 's address, to ask her opinion 
 
 and help. In any event, failing or carrying out your present plans, 
 your future needs sound health. No one has a right to take into a 
 family impaired health. Oh what sorrow, care, and wretchedness 
 come from forgetting this ! You have been overtaxed. I am not 
 in the least alarmed. You are not any more excitable in nervous 
 organization than was your mother; and what seasons of wretched- 
 ness and depression of spirit, nights without sleep, etc., did God 
 safely bring her through! So will He uphold you; He knows 
 your frame, He ever " remembereth." "Man is a harp of a 
 thousand strings," and every string has been strung and tuned by 
 God. The Maker's eye is ever upon His instrument; no breath 
 can touch, no chord can vibrate, and He not know, permit nay, 
 more, cause sweetest music for His ear. Love is the meaning of 
 all He does. He who made you is fitting you for His own service 
 here, and your home hereafter, by all these passing trials and 
 crossed purposes. He is satisfied ; He would not change or leave 
 out one trial. So strong, so true His love, " He never spares us 
 for our crying." 
 
 Now / think you should listen to your father, me, and your 
 physician, and go with this little party to Germany for your health. 
 Dr. H. goes in July. I think he wants another gentleman in his 
 party of four. 
 
 [From letters without date.] 
 
 . . . . God has a plan of life mapped out for each of our 
 dear children, if we can only spell out His will and way. 
 
 When did children more need than now to be taught the sanctity 
 and reverence of Christian worship? Who can turn from these 
 crowded popular meetings all about us to the "Cqmmon Prayer" 
 of our dear old church, and not rejoice in the calm and quiet, the 
 patient expectation and rest of her services, and feel her spirituality 
 too deep for noise or surface-ruffling? 
 
 What a gay, easy, light-hearted, sweet-hearted boy is to his 
 
 mamma! Laugh away; you do not know how pleasant to an old 
 heart it is to see life over again through young eyes and feelings. 
 
 And as yet has not tasted one shade of care or crossed pur-\ 
 
 16
 
 242 COMMENCEMENT. 
 
 poses; just can look out upon life from nineteen happy years. But, 
 
 dear J , the untried light that comes before such eyes can be 
 
 but as the cold gray dawn to the noontide sun. The joy, the hope, 
 the rest, the peace of later years so much the better! that joy 
 which comes after sorrow, the rest and peace after conflict. Years 
 only grow golden as they stretch on and on, and begin to catch 
 the gleams of eternal day. 
 
 DELAWARE, June 26, 1871. 
 MY OWN DEAR J. : 
 
 . . . Don't you want to run down to keep "the Fourth" 
 with the children? Come, spend a week. If not a week, then 
 four days ; if not four days, then one day, the Fourth. We always 
 have a family picnic in the woods. Come. 
 
 Tuesday morning. 
 
 To-morrow the maidens are, in all their glory of 
 dress and exhibition and glowing speeches, going processionally 
 into the Opera House, etc. etc. Thursday comes the College 
 day, with grand Commencement doings beneath the College trees. 
 And sprinkled in and through the three or four passing weeks 
 (moonlight, of course with consequences), rides (daylight and 
 moonlight), with divers evening entertainments, etc. etc., until 
 our little town is wholly demoralized in a light but sober sense of 
 that word. I guess one mother will be glad when they are all 
 gone. We are the quietest of villages after Commencement. 
 Come and see; do, dear J. 
 
 Mrs. Platt sent. her photograph to her nephew, that had just been 
 taken. He wrote his appreciation of it, and says: "It is a per- 
 fectly ideal picture." 
 
 The childlike simplicity with which she writes about it is only 
 equalled by the sincerity of her acceptance of this "freshness" as 
 another of God's blessings. 
 
 DELAWARE, September 7, 1871. 
 MY OWN J. : 
 
 I suppose I may call you that for a while longer? I am so glad 
 
 /or your happiness in Miss C . The peace and rest after our 
 
 life-storms, oh how sweet !
 
 MY PICTURE. 243 
 
 I am glad you liked my " picture," for picture it is ; not by the 
 face that the glass mirrors, but of the heart that God has had in 
 His holy keeping, now near fifty-five years. My husband is amused 
 at my " liking so well my own picture." It is true it was a sur- 
 prise and delight to me, as it can be to no other. I did not suppose 
 it possible that a face that has passed through so many old, old 
 days, could ever show forth in this life such young, fresh look ! 
 Features that have so often quivered in untold anguish in moments 
 when, overwhelmed within me, God only knew my path ; eyes 
 that had rained so many tears ; heart that has carried so many cares 
 and burdens, that my old face could thus bear so true, true testi- 
 mony to the unseen, loving One, always my present help, always 
 my comforter, always under me the everlasting Arm, wiping away 
 every tear, carrying for me every burden, soothing every sorrow,, 
 and through and by every step of my earthly life drawing me yet 
 nearer and nearer to the joy and peace and rest of the heavenly 
 home ! Yes, my " picture" is to me a delight and joy in its out- 
 spoken testimony to the love and power of "the God of my life." 
 Lay it away, dear J., (1 cannot endure photograph albums), in your 
 trunk or drawer; and, whenever God sends sorrow or care upon 
 you, look at and read the help and joy God gave me, poor weak 
 woman. God make it a little comforter to you long after I am not 
 here ! With this prayer it goes to all who love me. 
 
 My picture* was taken for N 's " birthday surprise," and was 
 
 addressed " To my first and best." 
 
 Easter, P. M., 1872. 
 MY DEAR J. : 
 
 Many thanks for kind sympathy ! We came through the fire 
 unharmed. | "As, seeing Him who is invisible," we could not for 
 one moment doubt. It was His permission, our Father's, His 
 whom we "had been so long time with," and could not distrust 
 His love 05 His wisdom. In many respects, for many reasons, this 
 
 * The same picture that is alluded to in the correspondence with Mrs. Benja- 
 min. The engraving in this book is a copy of it, but lacking in that radiant ex- 
 pression that is peculiar to the original photograph. 
 
 f Refers to the burning of the family house, that occurred but a short time 
 before.
 
 244 A QUIET REST. 
 
 is a trying dispensation ; but, as I said, from our Father's hand, so 
 wise and good, 
 
 Even crosses, from His sovereign hand, 
 Are blessings in disguise. 
 
 . . . . I think I wrote you our dear J was confirmed 
 
 the fifth Sunday in Lent; to-day her "first communion." Oh, 
 may it be to her as the sight, by faith, of Jesus ; the clasping of 
 His loving hand; never to let go; to be led by him on and on, 
 from strength to strength, until she come unto His everlasting king- 
 dom! 
 
 NEW YORK, 304 Mulberry St. [St. Barnabas], 
 June 24, 1872. 
 
 We owe all you say, the children and I. This season has been 
 such a hurry and press from the " burning-out," my thought to 
 come East, sicknesses, etc. etc. The children will not be satisfied 
 with bits of notes, or even your pictured face; nothing will longer 
 answer but the looking upon you face to face, nothing else. 
 
 Leaving in May for New York, I found J sick in her school- 
 nursery at Cleveland ; brought her home, and waited to settle the 
 dear ones once more in our own home, and came on here last 
 Wednesday. Since then I have had just one long, sweet, quiet 
 rest in the peaceful sanctuary of this Home.* I feel as if no one 
 
 (though my dear N was so wholly captivated) has ever told 
 
 me of this work for the blessed Master. I can only declare my 
 whole assent and heart is with this precious sister and her sweet 
 young helpers. God bless them, and ever make them a blessing ! 
 
 Her nephew was admitted to the bar in June, 1872 ; visited his 
 
 aunt again in September, and went to , where he located 
 
 and commenced the practice of law. 
 
 This letter, from his aunt, refers to his approaching marriage 
 with the " Miss C." of a former letter : 
 
 * St. Barnabas House, one of the missions of the Church in New York, 
 under the management of the Sisterhood of the Good Shepherd, of which Mrs. 
 Plait's younger sister is the Presiding Sister.
 
 SWEET OLD BIBLE STORY. 245 
 
 DELAWARE, October 29, 1872. 
 
 Surely I can take your long, good letter to J , as answer to 
 
 mine. A letter to her child is always the same or better than a 
 letter to the mother. . . . . 
 
 What mother was ever wholly satisfied with a son's decision at 
 first? No girl is quite good enough for her boy. All she can 
 promise is, to take his wife to her heart, and hope and pray and 
 believe all is for the best in God's hands, all in His ordering. My 
 dear boy, again I tell you, your own loving mother's prayers are 
 about your path and about your bed. Never, never will your 
 earthly happiness be forgotten of God. I am sure of this ; sure as 
 was the promise of old, "He shall send His angel before thee," 
 and "with thee, and prosper thy way" (Gen. 24). It maybe that 
 all your need is treasured up in this strange maiden to us all, and 
 she is to become the helper, rest, and comforter, to fill the mother's 
 and aunty's place, even as Rebekah was the appointed "comforter 
 after the mother's death." I love that sweet, old Bible story. I 
 want no one to ever come as new son or daughter into my house- 
 hold unless "sent" by Abraham's God. 
 
 I have great comfort and pleasure in seeing you, as I do, in your 
 sew room. Take care, and do not try to be over-busy. Is the 
 race won always by the swiftest ? 
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR. 
 
 DELAWARE, Sunday eve, January 5, 1873. 
 
 I suppose this will find you back again at your post, in daily 
 round of duty, the happy Christmas meeting all over. How many, 
 many times we all have talked of you, you cannot guess this Christ- 
 mastide; though it has been weeks since we have written you, and 
 
 F 's letter remains yet unanswered. We knew you and she 
 
 were together, and it could not matter what the rest of the world 
 did or said, or whether anybody ever wrote another letter. Well, 
 dear boy, I trust your Christmas week was very happy. Won't 
 you write soon and tell us all about it? I wonder if next Christmas 
 
 we shall not have you and F with us? To be so near as , 
 
 and yet not with us for our Christmas, seems too, too bad. But I 
 hope you were far happier than we could have made you, and the
 
 246 A "LOVE CHRISTMAS." 
 
 Christmas meeting and joy a real foretaste and token of the many 
 long years you are to pass "as fellow-heirs together of the grace 
 of life." 
 
 But why has this long silence come, with no letter written you or 
 
 her? Well, let me try to tell. The first week in December N 
 
 was sick in bed. Of cours'e all our little Christmas preparations had 
 to wait. Then, just as that week closed, came a note from my dear 
 
 old friend's son, F D (of Honolulu), saying he was not 
 
 well, and wanted to come home; and he turned to ours as the 
 home next his own, so far away. He left last Tuesday. How 
 much we all enjoyed his visit ! He seemed somehow in your 
 place. He goes 'home for a year next summer, then hopes for a 
 year in Germany to perfect in languages, then back for a theologi- 
 cal course in a New York seminary (Presbyterian), and then to 
 Japan or China to translate and preach the Gospel. What a 
 marked-out career! Ah, how many tread the path they mark out 
 for .their feet? Seldom do we do just what we think we shall in 
 youth's young dreams! Each soul has the lesson to learn sooner 
 or later, " It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps." . . 
 
 DELAWARE, January 9, 1873. ., 
 
 I have been trying to find the leisure to reply to your welcome 
 letter of December 18. Christmas, always a busy season, this year 
 had added cares and calls upon me. To help through this dull 
 business season the children concluded to give up our faithful ser- 
 vant, and divide all household work among them. With H 
 
 and M in school, and J with her father's books in the 
 
 store, N and I are kept very busy indeed, finishing the odds 
 
 and ends the others leave undone. 
 
 H d came home for Christmas week, and we were "all, all 
 
 here," but the little lamb waiting in the Good Shepherd's bosom. 
 It was, perhaps, the very happiest Christmas of my life, the crown- 
 ing joy being the presence of the four oldest children with me at 
 the Lord's table. Oh, may He keep them unto the end, faithful 
 unto death! Our Christmas-day was quiet; no guest but Uncle 
 . We determined to signalize this "panic winter" by keep- 
 ing a " Love Christmas," our presents to be love only. So under 
 this motto were hung the nine stockings, and he who found the
 
 A ROSY PLAN. 247 
 
 leanest stocking had secured the largest share of love, of course. 
 But despite our best laid plans there seemed no one's stocking full 
 of love, the dear children's busy fingers and loving hearts finding 
 about the usual display of tokens. 
 
 What a charming Thanksgiving you must have had! Indeed, 
 dear J., I can and do readily believe all- you tell me of your pre- 
 sent happiness. God has set His seal of approval and blessing 
 upon "the holy estate," entered into in His fear, looking up to Him 
 for guidance and blessing. Earth sees no purer happiness than 
 they know who are thus bound, " With hands entwined to lift 
 their being higher." 
 
 DELAWARE, January 20, 1873. 
 MY DEAR J. : 
 
 We did chat over your pleasant "whole story," reading and re- 
 reading your letter. Much was said; the last words were your 
 good, quiet uncle's, "Well, tell J. I only hope he may have as 
 much happiness as I have had." Dear boy, we like all your rosy 
 plan but one part, and that must be changed. We will not make 
 any changes now, but if "the best laid plans of mice and men gang 
 aft aglee," of course bad plans will change. So we all believe you 
 
 and F will surely see this aunt, uncle, and cousins before you 
 
 get home from the June festival. June is the time to visit Dela- 
 ware, not cold, dreary December, so much too far off. And then 
 I am in the mother's place, and you must let me see and welcome 
 first of all your bride. s Of course this will come about; I feel sure 
 of it. 
 
 Never mind being poor, that is nothing; "a man 's a man for a' 
 that." Two people, loving truly, can help each other in every 
 way. The "holy estate" has God's blessing. Nevermind how 
 much wise, far-sighted man may grumble over the folly of young 
 people "beginning with nothing." He who watches, caring for 
 the tiny sparrow and her nestlings, so that not one can fall without 
 His will, won't He provide for all the need of His children?
 
 248 AN INVITATION. 
 
 This letter is addressed to Miss C., the " friend" of her nephew: 
 
 DELAWARE, April 20, 1873, First Sunday after Easter. 
 My DEAR F.: 
 
 When you reach where I stand in years and family cares, you 
 will think of Aunt Jennie and say, "Ah, yes, I know now very 
 well why she did not write the letters she wished to." Your sweet 
 letter, so satisfying to my heart in every way, has been just before 
 me ever since it came, its claims, and my desire to reply. I will 
 not cover my paper telling why. ' You will believe me, trust me, 
 love me, just as if I was your good, regular, corresponding auntie ! 
 You may as well learn early that Aunt Jennie does nothing in a 
 regular, proper time or way; and just take her for what she is, 
 trying to forget what she is not. 
 
 I miss our dear N very much. We had to change our home 
 
 this spring, too ; and my hands and heart have been full, indeed. 
 J.'s J. will be here directly, and I had to steal, as you see, some 
 Sunday time, to beg you to assert your right and power over him 
 to change his plans for the day (rather the days following), so that 
 we shall have you both, as our own dear children, with us soon 
 after the marriage as possible. I claim this. He must bring you 
 to rest (for one or two weeks, if possible) with us, as if in his own 
 mother's house. Do convert him to this arrangement, and slip 
 away from your own home right here, without stopping once by 
 the way. 
 
 DELAWARE, May 8, 1873. 
 
 Divers letters from you must have been lost on the way to us, 
 for we cannot pick up the thread of your intentions at present, and 
 make it join where your last letter broke off. Please bind together 
 for us, " My house," " fairly under way," " to be ready by ist of 
 June !" You have found that pot of gold surely, and I am so glad 
 I like the beginning after the good old fashion, standing shoulder 
 to shoulder, accepting every care and burden that comes with 
 "the holy estate." Where there is independence of mind, wil- 
 lingness to live for each other's happiness, just slipping into every 
 circumstance of that "station in life into which it has pleased God 
 to call" us, with all the unselfishness of true love, then almost Eden
 
 PLEASANT SURPRISES. 249 
 
 happiness is found again on earth. Now this is true, for I have 
 tried it. 
 
 God, our covenant-keeping God, bless you and yours more and 
 more, until you come into His heavenly kingdom. 
 
 DELAWARE, June 2, 1873. 
 MY OWN DEAR J. : 
 
 Hurrah ! 
 
 Now I had to begin just that way to get " hurrah !" out of mind, 
 for, I declare, ever since your last letter, with plan for the little 
 house, with "guest-room," "closets," " yard with small fruits," 
 etc., I have just wanted to call out, " Hurrah, J. !" 
 
 How pleasant it all looks ! Dear boy, don't be afraid to look 
 at and dwell upon pleasant things. Life here may be a vale of 
 tears : what are tears but the drops that make the rainbow? There 
 is a smile hid away behind every tear, if man would only learn how 
 to look for it. Life is full of pleasant surprises in our heavenly 
 Father's own keeping. He opens His hand and bestows them 
 upon every prepared heart, wherever He sees good things cannot 
 harm. What good life of joy, peace, and love has been Aunt 
 Jennie's ! Yet have there been no tears? 
 
 I am so glad, so very glad, you are to be no longer the lonely, 
 motherless boy. "For this cause" a wife is more than mother, 
 sister, all. God, our covenant-keeping God, bless and keep you 
 both, and make you only a blessing to each other ! 
 
 DELAWARE, July 28, 1873. 
 MY DEAR J. AND F. : 
 
 Right glad were we all to get a peep at you both, through the 
 lines of i6th July, /believe "honeymoon month" has least sun- 
 shine in it of all the married-life year. So the first year of adjust- 
 ing to each other is the one hardest year. After that, all the ins 
 and outs of each other being fully settled, side by side life runs on 
 and on, more and more a mirror of the rest, peace, and happiness 
 of the life beyond the River. 
 
 Her nephew and Miss C. were married at C. L., Iowa, in June 
 preceding the date of this letter. They resided in , Michi-
 
 250 SUMMER CARES AUTUMN QUIET. 
 
 gan, until June, 1877, when they removed to a more Western 
 State, where he accepted the Chair of History and English Lan- 
 guage and Literature in the State University, thus fulfilling his 
 aunt's second, almost prophetic, choice, of life-work for him, 
 teaching. 
 
 DELAWARE, March i, 1874, 
 Second Sunday in Lent. 
 
 . . . . N wants you all to come to her wedding before 
 
 very long. She has promised to go this spring. You ask how I 
 am to get on without this dear, ministering child ? Ah ! I do not 
 yet see. For a long time I felt too selfish ; but, to see her content 
 and happiness over her new hopes and plans, has fairly driven 
 away every feeling but thankfulness for her joy. Surely, one who 
 has so faithfully "borne the yoke in youth," will be cared for, 
 and blessed with His own best blessing. She wants only the most 
 simple, quiet wedding at home, with only nearest relatives present. 
 
 DELAWARE, Sept. n, 1874. 
 MY DEAR J. : 
 
 This is your dear mother's birthday, and it must not fully close 
 
 before I say a few words about, her grandson, "J. A. C ." 
 
 Why it seems but as yesterday morning that, after a long, very 
 anxious night, waiting and watching for "first tidings" in the little 
 Rectory dining-room, I was at last invited to see the mother and 
 boy baby. So near to death had come the life most precious to 
 me, I almost had hard thoughts toward the baby, and meant to 
 only steal in for a kiss to the mother, with little notice for the new- 
 comer. But before the door, sitting erect on a neighbor's lap, with 
 great brown eyes wide open, fixing themselves upon Aunt Jennie, 
 as if just waiting and watching for her appearance, was your lord- 
 ship. I never shall forget my first sensations ! , 
 
 You wonder why I have so long delayed my thanks for baby's 
 picture. I am fast becoming an old lady, and letter-writing gets 
 crowded out of daily duty easily. The truth is, this summer has 
 been too full of absorbing cares and anxieties. Now autumn quiet 
 has come, and with it the time and inclination for writing. 
 
 Three weeks ago dear N came flitting home "just to see 
 
 mother, because she heard she was not well." Then H
 
 WILLING TESTIMONY. 251 
 
 joined her, and one Sunday we were all together in God's house, 
 and all around the family board and family altar. 
 
 In the confusion incident to moving to a new home most of the 
 letters after this date were lost but to the day of her death not a 
 letter lost its charm or beauty. Her nephew and his wife loved this 
 aunt most sincerely, and the news of her death was a heavy blow. 
 They bear most willing testimony to the wonderful depth and rich- 
 ness of her affectionate sympathy, and to the purity and all-pervad- 
 ing power of her spirituality. " She was not of us though with us," 
 they write, "a child of God who ever walketh with the Father, a 
 spirit among the stars though seemingly mortal. Truly, of such is 
 the Kingdom of Heaven."
 
 252 REV. DR. BEDELL. 
 
 -XX. 
 
 "They that feared the Lord spake often one to another." 
 
 Correspondence with Mrs. E. Bedell Benjamin Valued letters Bright points of 
 light Bible studies Raven's food Pictures A white raven Home pictures. 
 1871 to 1875. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH MRS. E. BEDELL BENJAMIN. 
 
 Parts of this correspondence are wanting, But, as the sense is not 
 impaired, it is given as it now stands. 
 
 Mrs. Benjamin is the daughter of that eminent man of God, the 
 Rev. G. T. Bedell, D.D. His memory is still dear to many yet 
 living, who listened to his earnest, soulful preaching from the pulpit 
 of old St. Andrew's, Philadelphia. Of this church he was the be- 
 loved Rector from May, 1822, until August, 1834, when he entered 
 into rest. He was also the father of Bishop Bedell. 
 
 Mrs. Platt's early associations with Dr. Bedell gave her an espe- 
 cial interest in his daughter. She loved to speak of those early 
 days, when her sisters and brother James were members of St. 
 Andrew's as well as herself, when it was their privilege to be in- 
 structed in Gospel truth, and in the way of holy lives, and to talk 
 together of the words that fell so lovingly, and yet with such clear 
 convincing power. 
 
 FROM MRS. E. B. BENJAMIN in answer to a request for Mrs. Platt's letters. 
 
 MR. CYRUS PLATT: 
 
 DEAR SIR: If I have any of Mrs. Platt's letters they are in Strat- 
 ford, at our country home. We shall return there in a few days, 
 and I will immediately examine my papers, and, if I have preserved 
 the letters, will send them to you without delay. Those that I re- 
 ceived were, I think, during a long illness, and, it is possible, may 
 not have been kept. Of this I cannot be sure till I return. They
 
 PRAYER FOR HELP. 253 
 
 were very gratifying to me, and I remember were placed among 
 papers "to be kept" ; so that I hope I shall find them as I labelled 
 them. 
 
 A memorial of Mrs. Platt will be not only a comfort to her 
 immediate friends, but valuable to the Christian world. You are 
 probably aware that I had never seen Mrs. Platt, at least not to 
 remember her. though she had some recollections of me as a child. 
 But her character as a woman and a Christian is one of the bright 
 points of light in this dark world. It was a privilege to have her 
 so long with you, and a greater one that she will be yours forever. 
 Pardon me for venturing on so sacred a subject, and believe me 
 truly your friend, 
 
 E. BEDELL BENJAMIN. 
 NEW YORK, April 24, 1879. 
 
 FROM MRS. E. B. BENJAMIN. 
 
 STRATFORD, CONN., May 6, 1879. 
 Mv DEAR MR. PLATT: 
 
 As soon as possible after my return I looked for Mrs. Platt's let- 
 ters, as requested, and found them safely preserved. In re-reading 
 them they seem to need some explanation even to you, for the kind, 
 loving, and encouraging tone my dear friend used to me may seem 
 strange; also the calling of herself my "Raven." Perhaps you 
 recall all the circumstances, but as I cannot know that, I will make 
 my story as short as possible. 
 
 I never knew Mrs. Platt, and do not remember to have seen her, 
 though I have a faint memory of a Martha Hulme, who, in my 
 childhood days, stood for my idea of a saint. Your dear wife must 
 have had the same characteristics. I judge this, not only from her 
 letters, but from the exquisite little picture she sent me. I never 
 saw any other photograph with such an illuminated expression. A 
 halo of divine love seemed to rest upon it. 
 
 Our correspondence began in this way : Once on Christmas eve, 
 probably in '71 or '72, I felt weary and discouraged. The Christ- 
 mas work had tired me, and I prayed that night for direct help 
 and for some encouragement, that I could not fail to understand. 
 I do not recall the words, only the feeling. Like many others, I
 
 254 PRAYER ANSWERED. 
 
 forgot my prayer, for I had no direct answer. Three weeks passed ; 
 then I took up the " Standard of the Cross," and in it was the 
 kindest and most satisfactory notice of my " Eleven Months in 
 Horeb," expressing thanks to me for it. I did not know who 
 wrote it; but was transfixed with self-reproach when I read the 
 editor's note : " This was sent seventeen days ago, but was strangely 
 delayed in the mail." It must have been written immediately after 
 my prayer for encouragement, and delayed, perhaps, to try my 
 faith. I expressed my feelings about it in the lines which you may 
 have seen, beginning 
 
 " Not a sparrow falls without your Father," 
 Christian, read that written word ; 
 Say not thy Father hath not heard 
 
 Thy prayer; 
 It is there, there ; 
 And He will answer in His time, 
 Not thjne. 
 
 The lines had no merit, except as expressive of the feeling that 
 had taken such possession of me. I concluded, poor as they were, 
 to send them to the paper through which God had answered me. 
 When I sent them, I asked Mr. French to whom I was indebted 
 for the notice of my book. He sent me Mrs. Platt's name and 
 address. The next mail, after the publication of the notice, brought 
 me thanks for the lines from one of God's people in Ohio, who, 
 too, had been weary and discouraged, and to whom they spoke in 
 her time of need. As soon as another mail could bring me a letter 
 from Wisconsin, another Christian wrote me a similar letter of 
 thanks. Both these writers were strangers to me, and I may never 
 see them till we can talk with unhesitating faith in the land of joy. 
 All these incidents were so remarkable that I think I mentioned 
 them in a letter I at once wrote to Mrs. Platt. To me the fact of 
 a person being a Christian is all the introduction I need. I wrote 
 and talked to her as to a friend, sure of sympathy. Her lovely 
 reply you will find among the letters. From that time she called 
 herself my "Raven." She had brought me the food I needed 
 from the Lord's full treasury. 
 
 Then because, I suppose, of my antecedents in my father and 
 mother dear Mrs. Platt seemed to have very exaggerated views
 
 RAVENS' FOOD. 255 
 
 of my attainments, both as a Christian and a writer. She asked 
 for all I had written. I believe I sent her some leaflets and a 
 child's story. But how far beneath her I felt in her manifest 
 nearness to her Saviour, the life of consecration to Him, her beau- 
 tiful life of care and her ministry of love, as developed naturally 
 in her letters ! During our correspondence I was ill four or five 
 years of illness from the effects of a sudden fright, producing 
 congestion of the brain, etc., so that I could by no means keep 
 up such a correspondence as I desired. But my "Raven" never 
 neglected me ; the Lord's food often came in sweet words of help. 
 
 The news of her death came to me very suddenly. Even now 
 I cannot bear to think of what it must have been to miss her sweet 
 presence. My thoughts were much with you at the time, but I do 
 not remember to have written. Perhaps you feel as I do when a 
 dear Christian goes home; I recall our Lord's words, "If ye 
 loved me, ye would rejoice, because I go to my Father." Ah, it 
 takes great love to rejoice when one has gone, but I try to. Then 
 I always fancy the circle that will gather around father and mother, 
 and give them tidings of their children. And when one has gone 
 whom I have seen recently, I am glad to think how delighted dear 
 mother will be. And now, my friend, as one and another joins 
 the throng of redeemed saints, will you not think how your own 
 bright, beautiful treasure will watch for those who will bring her 
 tidings from her home? Such thoughts seem to bring me nearer 
 to those whose life-work is over. Last winter I hoverd on the very 
 threshold ; I thought I should soon be with them all. It was an 
 experience for which I am thankful. The Lord must have had 
 work for me to do here, as I was brought back again to do a 
 Raven's work to those who need me. 
 
 I had no idea of giving you so much to read. Mrs. Platt's let- 
 ters to me may not be suitable for publication, but you will enjoy 
 reading them. Please remember me to "Nellie," whom I saw once. 
 
 Extract of a letter to MRS. BENJAMIN from MR. PLATT. 
 
 The photograph you allude to has been admired as a picture, 
 more than any other ever taken by the artist, as he informed me, 
 and has been widely sought for. About a week previous to her 
 last sickness, sitting in her place at the table, engaged in animated
 
 256 HEAVENLY BEAUTY. 
 
 conversation, her face shone with a more than usual radiant bril- 
 liancy that seemed to come from above, and I regretted afterwards 
 not having given expression to the thought, "My dear, you are 
 really becoming more beautiful as you grow older." Little did I 
 think the bright and beautiful face before me was so soon to shine 
 with much greater brilliancy in the realms of glory. 
 
 This called from Mrs. B the following response: 
 
 May 26, 1879. 
 MY DEAR MR. PLATT: 
 
 Thank you for your most interesting, double letter! Every 
 word about your wife is of exceeding interest. How wonderful 
 must be the halo that now rests upon her brow ! Our ideas of 
 perfect beauty must fall so far short of the reality that I ask some- 
 times whether the fair for.ms and fair earth that seem so lovely to 
 us, are so also to the on-lookers. 
 
 But I really have no time to-day to let my pen run on in con- 
 verse with a Christian friend. Of course use the letters in any way 
 you see fit. I wrote the long explanation to make them plainer to 
 you. Any part of our intercourse is at your service. I rejoice to 
 think that we shall have some records of so lovely a life 
 
 FROM MRS. BENJAMIN TO MRS. PLATT, in answer to a proposal that 
 she should adopt two children. 
 
 March 10, 1872, 281 4th Ave., N. Y. 
 
 Thank you, dear Raven, I don't want any little boy and girl. 
 I said to Fred just now, " Dear, I 've had an offer of a little boy 
 and girl to bring up; when would you like to have them? "After 
 I'm dead," was the reply; " but excuse me now." I have one 
 darling, precious boy, whom I undertook to so shield from evil 
 and overwhelm with good, that I thought he would be perfect. 
 But I cannot do the same work for the little ones you recommend 
 to my care.
 
 A STORY. 257 
 
 I sent to your daughter to come to me, for I do not leave my 
 sofa. I hope she will come. I cannot write much while lying 
 down. Thank you for your trouble. I have a theory about a 
 deeper meaning to it than I have dared to express, because I do 
 not find sufficient authority. Sometime I hope to develop it. But 
 I will leave it to you, your kind words about the Horeb, and the 
 reception of this, show me that you will find out all that is in it. 
 
 I am going to send you a little package by express; in it you 
 will find a copy of the "Church in the Wilderness," in which I 
 have corrected one or two typographical errors; with the greatest 
 care they crept in. By this copy you can correct those that you 
 use. Then you will also find an old, worn book, which is my copy 
 of Horeb, with the badly written, contracted, confused notes of my 
 study for the class, who reviewed it after it was published. Please 
 do not lose it; I value it as a record of past days. If of no help, 
 do not try to decipher it; but if it will be, in your present teaching, 
 I shall make no farther apologies, only ask you to make use of it 
 and to return when finished, or whenever you can spare it. I have 
 some idea sometime of adding notes to the Horeb, and then shall 
 want these memoranda. 
 
 Also I send a set of questions which I wrote for the Sunday- 
 school of a friend, who wanted something easier and more thorough 
 than the introductory notes of the Horeb; they might help you, as 
 review questions. Lastly, I have a story to tell you confidentially 
 about a few lines which I inclose 
 
 Now for my story. I tell you as one Christian friend may speak 
 to another. Last Christinas eve I was so utterly wearied with the 
 selection and putting up of many presents, that when I tied the 
 last package, I felt, as I suppose all women do sometimes, that life 
 and its tasks were more than I cquld endure, a want of something 
 to help. And so I prayed for some bright, pleasant thing to come 
 to me personally, because I was tired of taking care of everybody. 
 It was a childish thought, but a part of the "story." The next 
 day was a bright and happy Christmas, and I thought perhaps that 
 was my answer; but it did not satisfy me. Then in a day or two 
 I forgot all about it, like other sinners. Nearly three weeks after 
 I took up the "Standard of the Cross," and read your lovely 
 notice of my little Horeb book. That was the sort of help I 
 wanted, the very best kind, to know that I was working for my 
 17
 
 258 COMMUNION OF SAINTS. 
 
 Master. I read that the notice had been seventeen days in the 
 mail ! and I had forgotten to watch for the answer to my prayer ! 
 It must have been written very soon after the weary night when I 
 wanted help. Shall I thank you, or the Holy Spirit, who put it 
 in your heart? I cannot tell you what it was to me, nor how I 
 reproached my faithless heart. " Not a sparrow falls without 
 your Father" came in my mind. I thought of my childish prayer, 
 how it had been cared for and answered, and so the words came 
 to me which I send to you. I wrote many verses, and after a little 
 hesitation selected four, and sent them to the "Standard," which 
 had been the medium of my help. I put E. B. B. as usual, not 
 thinking any one knew of those being my initials. In a few days 
 a letter came from a Christian friend in Ohio, whom, like your- 
 self, I have never seen, thanking me for them; they were just 
 what she needed, so she said. The next day a letter came from 
 Wisconsin, from another Christian friend, also personally a stranger, 
 thanking me for them. 
 
 This is my story, dear friend. When your letter came I deter- 
 mined to tell you, for now I know I have another friend for both 
 worlds. Oh, how wonderful is this communion of saints ! We do 
 not need to see each other here ; the soul-sympathy is founded on 
 our union with the Lord. " Y.e in me, and I in you;" "this is my 
 commandment, that ye love one another." 
 
 You loved mother, too ! dear, precious, faithful mother. I 
 think I will put in the package some lines that I said to her one 
 wakeful night, when the moonlight just enabled me to distinguish 
 her features in a superb portrait I have of her by Huntingdon. 
 
 This is the third sheet, and I must stop. You -will understand 
 all this, I know. 
 
 FROM MRS. BENJAMIN. 
 
 NEW YORK, Nov. 24, 1871. 
 MY DEAR MRS. PLATT: 
 
 I hardly know where to begin to thank you for your kind sym- 
 pathy in my beloved studies. Your second expression of it came to 
 me yesterday, and made me very thankful that the work of my little 
 book has begun. It is such a privilege to help in the study of the 
 Scriptures. It is a duty so delightful, so interesting, so fascinating,
 
 A NEW REVELATION. 259 
 
 that I have a daily thanksgiving that, in my little corner of the 
 vineyard, among the humblest of the laborers, there is a continual 
 feast. When I once begin on my one theme, " Christ Jesus every- 
 where, from Genesis to Revelation," it is hard for me to stop. My 
 second book has been a long time in following the first, because, 
 like the other, it was written in weekly lessons for my Bible-class, 
 printed on single sheets for their use, then revised, corrected, re- 
 written, verbal notes added, and so prepared for publication. It 
 gives a more thorough set of questions, for you see I find out what 
 has been blind, unnecessary, or confused, and what needs expla- 
 nation, but it takes a long time All this accounts for 
 
 the tardy appearance of the " Sequel to the Horeb." It is a more 
 difficult book than the other, because the subjects are more diffi- 
 cult ; but I think that a class who have been through the first one, 
 
 will have no trouble with the second My case is a 
 
 little different; for, thanks to a loving Father, who knows the need 
 others have of my good spirits, I have no depression. I have 
 rarely felt happier than since rest has become a duty. My sofa- 
 life two months now is a new revelation to me ; so many dear 
 friends, so many loving letters, so much tenderness, I do not at 
 all understand it; but simply accept everything, and thank Him. 
 
 I was rather overworked with headwork, which took away my 
 strength. And then in September I had a fright in church a 
 sudden crash just behind me too long a story to tell; it literally 
 finished me. I have never felt able to sit up since, though I strug- 
 gled for four months. In January I sent for my present physician, 
 who said I ought to have "given up" at the time. My neck, which 
 was injured in the accident, is not allowed yet even to try to hold 
 my head up. He expects to cure me; meanwhile I enjoy a great 
 deal. I cannot do anything much, but see a few friends, write a 
 little, read a little, etc. I dare not go into the subjects of your 
 letters. The only photograph extant of past years was taken when 
 I was twenty, and has been photographed from a daguerreotype. 
 It was taken for a friend, whose sister I had been with in her last 
 illness; he wanted to have the two together. 
 
 Then I send a fright, which a travelling photographer took of 
 me, sitting by my desk where my books grew, with back to my 
 balcony window. The bookcase was mother's, and stood in her
 
 260 HOREB SEARCH THE SCRIPTURES. 
 
 room in New York, as also the chair in which I am seated. That 's 
 all I can send no calm, fair St. Andrew's look like yours. 
 
 I carry your little notice in my porte-monnaie, and when I feel 
 faithless I read it. I have often wanted to tell you how much good 
 you did, but hesitated because I had to say so much about myself. 
 You will forgive that part, I know. Mr. French told me who 
 wrote it. 
 
 Now, my dear friend, may our Father have you in his holy 
 keeping, and '' perform all your petitions." 
 
 A copy of Mrs. Platt's notice of Mrs. Benjamin's Question Book 
 herein referred to, from the " Standard of the Cross," January 27, 
 1872. 
 
 "ELEVEN MONTHS IN HOREB." 
 
 To THE EDITOR OF " THE STANDARD OF THE CROSS" : 
 
 In some of the recent issues of your paper is an advertisement of 
 Mrs. Benjamin's Question Book, " Eleven 'Months in Horeb." 
 
 I want to commend this book to other households. For more 
 than a year it has most pleasantly marked our Sunday afternoons. 
 In a family Bible class we have found it all and much more than 
 Bishop Bedell's prefatory note claims, though we used it in the 
 most simple, unstudied manner, making it the text-book for the 
 entire family. We can never forget these pleasant household 
 gatherings with the little learners scarce able to read, and tempo- 
 rary guest and "stranger with us;" so voluntary, too, and seeming 
 full of interest, and all the interest due the book alone, not to the 
 leader at all. 
 
 No previous study was enjoined. Each brought his Bible with 
 any book of reference he chose (but the Bible is enough). The 
 author in these "Questions" opens "The Book," " Searches the 
 Scriptures," unfolds the plan of salvation, and brings out to clear 
 view the "Leader of the Hosts of Israel," in a simple, natural 
 manner, level to the comprehension of all. The mere turning of 
 "The Sacred pages" searching for the multiplied "references," 
 familiarity with God's Word, is surely gain. The theme of these 
 Lessons is new, and it is wonderful what freshness and attractive- 
 ness "Eleven Months in Horeb" brings for the unstudied study of
 
 ANOTHER WORLD. 261 
 
 the Bible, and proves that "all Scripture is profitable for doctrine, 
 for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness." 
 
 SUBSCRIBER. 
 SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS, 1871. 
 
 FROM MRS. .PLATT TO MRS. BENJAMIN. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 How worthless a Raven for a correspondent ! Nothing "proper" 
 can be expected. A Dove-friend would have sent a word of thanks 
 for the picture,* if she could' not write a long letter. All this 
 time, from the tenth of March, I have just been hoping for the 
 moment to thank you. With so many sorrowful letters that must 
 be written, promising dear N.'s help in so many ways, the pleasant 
 rest and change that writing to you always is, never came. Your 
 Raven's life has been caged about with many circumstances not of 
 her own choosing, but His that "chooses our changes," and means 
 love in every appointment. Does not God grant to every child of 
 His some loving life-teacher, to walk beside, to check, and guard, 
 and keep from evil? Straitened circumstances he chose for me. 
 This has been, no doubt, a hedge against many an evil (to me), and 
 the bestower of countless good. I can see this even now, without 
 waiting for the hereafter. 
 
 When my eye rested upon the picture "before the desk," with 
 all the beautiful home-surroundings, I said, in delight, "Another 
 world ! Just my beau ideal ! But God arranged for both ; she 
 cannot be happier." I am sorry for the bad taste that calls my 
 picture a " fright." But is it my picture? The " little girl" face, 
 as I remember, has not changed at all ; never a baby face, but 
 earnest and thoughtful as a child, as this other picture of "twenty 
 years." I am delighted with all my pictures; and I have a new, 
 
 fresh one, that you have never seen This glimpse 
 
 came in a note from my dear N. Mr. Benjamin can fill it out, 
 doubtless ; so can I. 
 
 N. wondered I had not told her of my pictures. This is why : 
 I wished her to see ray friend without any preconceived fancy, so 
 I didn't allude to the last letter and pictures. Her call was de- 
 layed ; she was sick. She did not tell me a word about your 
 
 * Mrs. B.'s photograph.
 
 262 A SOFA LIFE. 
 
 health. I hope warm May breezes will greatly help your case, 
 and the " sofa-life" be ended ; yet He knows best. Can one write 
 and do more for Him, say any words more for His honor and 
 glory, than this record of a " sofa-life" ? "I simply accept every- 
 thing, and thank Him." I thank Him, too, for grace so mani- 
 fested. 
 
 You do not need my two poor little children, if you have 
 already "one darling, precious boy." .... Something 
 else I want. Some day, when one of those "dear, good, minis- 
 tering friends" sits by your sofa, asking, "What can I do for you?" 
 say first this : "A lady begs me to tell her of all that I have writ- 
 ten. She knows I ought not to write much, and wants one of my 
 friends to give her the names of my books for children, etc. etc. 
 Take this pencil now, and I will tell you." Dear Mrs. Benjamin, 
 cannot you do this? Do you not often write for the " Parish Visi- 
 tor"? I sometimes think so. 
 
 If all these many weeks have passed without a letter, constantly, 
 almost, are you in my thoughts. Your old "question book" is 
 such a help. The young girls look for " This is Mrs. Benjamin's 
 
 comment 3" "Mrs. B suggests this," etc. etc. It is simply 
 
 that old book His help sent an old teacher, unfit and unable to 
 study for herself. We are only over the 2ist Lesson ! More and 
 more I like the book, its plan of Bible study, bringing the Saviour 
 always before us, opening the whole Bible fresh and full of Him. 
 Even with such a teacher these young learners never tire of this 
 searching the Scriptures. Can you spare the book any longer ? 
 
 Surely, in this very letter I should return the " only photograph 
 extant of past years." 
 
 Your loving, grateful Raven, 
 
 J. H. P. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, May, 1872. 
 
 FROM MRS. PLATT. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, Nov. 18, 1872. 
 DEAR MRS. BENJAMIN : 
 
 I am sure you would be pleased with the family greeting of your 
 "New Question Book" this morning, The advertisement had not 
 been noticed in the " Churchman" yesterday. Without a Bible-
 
 ELIJAH'S RAVENS. 263 
 
 class teacher's gifts or calling (though once your dear mother's 
 pupil), I was induced lately to begin a Bible-class .for young girls, 
 aged eighteen or nineteen. I could think of no question-book so 
 easy and pleasant as "Eleven Months in Horeb." We had tried 
 it in our family in a simple, unstudied way, through a year of de- 
 lightful Sunday afternoons, the father being class-leader, so sorry 
 when through the last lesson, and unable to unite upon any other 
 book to follow it. Again and again it was said, " If only Mrs. 
 Benjamin would write another !" 
 
 Then I began the Sunday-school Bible-class, glad to go back 
 over the book, with some study, if possible. We have had over 
 two months' lessons, and not yet quite finished the fourth lesson, 
 so suggestive is the book, even in a poor, untrained teacher's hand. 
 "The Journeyings of the Children of Israel" has been made such 
 help and comfort to me, I felt that these dear children must stop 
 and understand all I could teach, and not pass along so fast through 
 the introductory lessons. Only yesterday we turned back to the 
 last questions of the fourth lesson, looking at the manifestations of 
 His gracious presence with the journeying people, and comparing 
 Num. ix. , 15-23; Psalms cxxi. , and xlviii., 14, etc. To an old 
 pilgrim what a beautiful and precious picture of truth is Num. ix., 
 
 iS- 2 3 ! 
 
 But I only intended to write one word of our thanks and welcome 
 for "The Church in the Wilderness." When this morning my 
 daughter called out, "Mother, mother, here is a notice of another 
 book like 'Eleven Months in Horeb!'' She was answered, "I 
 am so glad ; I was going to write and beg Mrs. Benjamin to give 
 us a question-book on the Journeyings of the Children of Israel." 
 
 FROM MRS. PLATT. 
 
 DELAWARE, Dec. 10, 1872. 
 DEAR MRS. BENJAMIN: 
 
 How can I thank you for all the kind words said, and the express 
 package? The letter: Elijah's ravens could not know their mis- 
 sion, nor be made glad and thankful that God used them; but then, 
 Elijah saw them, doubtless, and said, "Only ravens!" and they 
 were spared the discomfort of being taken for soaring eagles. 
 Your "old book," full of critical notes and valuable records, all
 
 264 CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 you say of my power of appreciation and "sympathy in your be- 
 loved studies," show you do not know your Raven. While most 
 grateful and thankful, I ought to say, for my own comfort, that I 
 am no teacher, no student am only what an impulsive, untrained, 
 unreflective nature has been taught by all His gracious lessons by 
 "the way," over a path fifty-five years long. Nothing ever learned 
 from study of books, no culture, no wealth, no position but, this 
 is your Raven. 
 
 The glad tears will come when I think what God made that little 
 notice in the "Standard" say to you. Your sweet "story" shows, 
 indeed One is always near to hear and answer, " knowing our 
 frame," ever "remembering," and "touched" with our every 
 want and need. 
 
 You cannot know how your little verses spoke to me. "On my 
 own text!" I exclaimed, when I first saw them in the " Standard" 
 the "sparrow-doctrine," as I called it. Oh, what help and com- 
 fort has not that text been to me ! How many, many times have 
 I tried to show its help to others! Could you spare a few copies 
 to give away? Should not a sparrow-doctrine fly abroad? 
 
 I will be very careful of the "old book." It must greatly help 
 with my class. Please send for it, if needed before we finish 
 "Horeb." Looking to the second volume we can leave "the 
 journeyings," and hasten on now. The "easier questions" would 
 have been such help. Having never taught a Bible-class, nor 
 written questions, I wanted such questions so much. I am tempted 
 to prove the need by showing you (if I can find a page) my 
 "Introductory Questions!" (They must make you smile, indeed.) 
 The questions were to bring to the children's notice what I wanted 
 them to know, no matter how asked tired Saturday evenings' 
 work for the morrow. 
 
 Thanks for the corrected copy of "The Church in the Wilder- 
 ness." just begun in our Sunday afternoon family class. It is, I am 
 sure, just what we need, and we like it so much. How I wish I 
 could say what it is, so as to induce others to try its help. 
 
 Would that little " Standard" notice you like, said over in better 
 words by you, do any good now in the " Churchman"? I know 
 nothing of such matters cannot "write." Sometimes the heart 
 has to speak, not the head. 
 
 The moonlight lines to your sainted mother what a beautiful
 
 EDWARDS'S REDEMPTION. 265 
 
 picture came ! the restless sleeper and the speaking portrait in the 
 moon's soft veiling. And old, old pictures, too, so fresh and bright 
 of other days, so distinctly can I recall that mother's sweet, earnest 
 face, and the face of the little daughter long buried pictures, yet 
 now fresh before me. 
 
 May I again speak of my class? (Shut up to only nursery work 
 for twenty-four years, Sunday-school work seems so full of fresh 
 interest now.) With intelligent Christian mothers several edu- 
 cated in a" church seminary, and communicants in our church yet 
 not one knew of the first promise of a Saviour, and "thought Jesus 
 began His work for man's redemption when born in Bethlehem." 
 There have been so many changes and plans, and "improved"(?) 
 methods in the Sunday-school, but have children been taught the 
 Bible? 
 
 And now, dear Mrs. Benjamin, what are you going to do next? 
 Did not little sparrows once suggest? May I tell the theme for 
 your next book? I want "Edwards's History of Redemption" to 
 suggest all I would say. Could not this be made a question book, 
 showing his views of truth, or portions of his views, so far as sus- 
 tained by Scripture, giving texts and explanatory notes, like your 
 other volumes, with " The Desire of all Nations," or "Shiloh" for 
 the book's name? I am not acquainted with Edwards's works. 
 When a young girl, I read, not studied, this one book of his (pub- 
 lished by the American Tract Society, I think). I had not opened 
 it for thirty years, when I borrowed it from our minister upon be- 
 ginning my class. Since, I have been longing to ask you to try to 
 do something with it for the' young of our day; for a glance at it 
 now shows how its grand, clear views of truth touched, strength- 
 ened, guided, and held my faith through all these long, long, 
 chequered years. I had almost forgotten this old book did not 
 know what it had done for me. It may be that there is already 
 some book for the young, covering this ground, showing His 
 "salvation from generation to generation," "the work of redemp- 
 tion a work carried on from the fall of man to the end of the 
 world," as Edwards- says. Recently a popular young D.D. (a 
 visitor) told us in his sermon, in substance, that "scarcely any- 
 thing of God was taught in the old Dispensation," "that He was 
 almost left vindictive in character," etc., until Jesus came and the
 
 266 MY IDEAL OF HEAVEN. 
 
 apostles preached! As if the glory and "light" of him to come 
 did not flood the Old Testament! 
 
 Now, will you not think over my desire about the old book? 
 And can you excuse all this freedom? (Are Ravens proper 
 birds?) 
 
 There is another kind of work on my heart for you. May I 
 some time tell you of it? 
 
 I trust the winter in the city may be a great restorative. Very 
 tenderly must the blessed Master watch over His tired-out laborers. 
 How closely He comes, what words He whispers to the face 
 "turned to the wall!" So may He ever watch and bless you! 
 
 With grateful love, 
 
 Your Raven friend, 
 
 JEANETTE H. PLATT. 
 
 FROM MRS. BENJAMIN TO MRS. PLATT. 
 
 281 FOURTH AVENUE, NEW YORK, Jan. 3, 1873. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 I can't fancy you quite a Raven, though you did indeed feed 
 me when I cried for food. How often I have thanked you ! Now 
 I thank you again for your kind letter, which I received the day 
 after I had sent the messenger after my book. Such a dreadful- 
 looking old book ! I'm so glad it may help you, and I sent to-day 
 the leaflets which you wanted, with some of another kind. 
 
 Thank you for the picture ! a dear, lovely face, bearing a sort 
 of St. Andrew's impress, with no mark of "twenty-four years of 
 nursery work." I wish I had one to return, but I have not had 
 one taken for years. 
 
 So far I wrote the day after yours came ; then I was called away, 
 and have not been well enough since to write at all. I wish I could 
 follow your suggestions about the questions ; the plan you propose 
 is very interesting, though I am not familiar with the book, and 
 therefore could not follow your idea entirely. But I can do no 
 more until I recover from a sort of nervous prostration, which pre- 
 vents either work or pleasure. I am just to keep still, mind and 
 body. It 's considerably harder than working ; for my ideal of 
 heaven has never been rest, but strength to work. I have not 
 attained the beautiful devotional strength of the wounded soldier :
 
 BIBLE STUDIES. 267 
 
 " I am not eager, bold, 
 
 Nor strong, all that is past; 
 I am ready not to do, 
 At last, at last. 
 
 " My half day's work is done, 
 
 And that is all my part ; 
 I give a patient God 
 My patient heart ; 
 
 "And grasp His banner still, 
 
 Though all its blue be dim ; 
 These stripes, no less than stars, 
 Lead after Him." 
 
 That seems to me the height of patient love. If we only could 
 remember -that God does not really need our work ! He can do 
 without us. 
 
 All I can do at present is to finish a children's story, which was 
 to have been out for Christmas, but which is not yet completed. 
 It is simple, just a happy home-picture. I believe those melan- 
 choly saints of children are monstrosities. Thank you again for 
 all your kindness about my books. I do think a few lines from 
 you in the "Churchman," or in any religious paper, would help 
 very much. Unfortunately the books are, as Rev. Dr. Lundy says, 
 "what teachers call hard." They do not seem so to me, because 
 they can be taught superficially or closely. A friend of mine .often 
 took two or three lessons each Sunday, and galloped through the 
 " Horeb" at railroad speed, saying it was one of the easiest books 
 she had ever seen. 
 
 I liked your questions extremely, but am not quite sure about 
 "When was the term of man's life shortened?" (Gen. vi., 3). After 
 studying that, I remember that I decided that it meant that there 
 should be one hundred and twenty years before the flood, during 
 which, doubtless, offers of mercy were made to the world. I may 
 be wrong, but Methuselah only died the year of the flood. Abram 
 lived one hundred and seventy-five years, Isaac one hundred and 
 eighty, etc. The first redeemed soul, I suppose, was Abel ; and 
 the idea of the interest of the angels is beautiful. You believe, 
 then, that the angels and redeemed souls have intercourse before 
 the final bliss of heaven ? I suppose there is some intercourse, but
 
 268 FRIENDS FOR BOTH WORLDS. 
 
 you know the saints are not yet in full reception of the promise 
 (Heb. xi., 39, 40). 
 
 I have just re-read your letter. It tells a different story of my 
 Raven, different from what she tells of herself. Thank you for 
 it all, dear friend. I will read Edwards's book. But why will not 
 you do the work you propose to me, and which I wish I could do ? 
 What is the other thing? And will anything make question-books 
 pay their expenses ! The plates of my last cost $428 ; when will 
 thirty-five cents a copy pay even for paper and binding? And 
 even if I could afford to pay expenses, would it be the best ex- 
 penditure of so much money? Is it not melancholy to bring dol- 
 lars and cents into notice when one only desires to work for Jesus? 
 
 I must stop. I would gladly hear from you again, though I may 
 not be able to reply ; for I ought really to take all my strength to 
 finish "Brightside : from Christmas to Easter." We shall meet 
 some time and talk it all over, when we shall know why we were 
 held back in this life. 
 
 Very truly your friend for both worlds, 
 
 LILLY B. BENJAMIN. 
 
 FROM MRS. PL ATT. 
 
 DELAWARE, Whitsunday, June I, 1873. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND: 
 
 You often seem very near, and I want to speak with you. To- 
 day, when coming home from Sunday-school, with Bible and the 
 precious old question book in my hand, I felt I must tell you again 
 how much I owe for the loan of this book, .and how much we all 
 owe the author of " Horeb." Suggestions rather than questions 
 a kind of lamp-like power shining upon Scripture truth, giving out 
 to the most thoughtless, unlearned eye that looks, gleams of hidden 
 precious spiritual meaning. 
 
 I have not time to copy, and the notes and comments, etc., seem 
 more the author's right from her own "old book." Shall you 
 mind if the back comes back to you a little more worn and worsted, 
 thus going about doing good in the Master's name? If you could 
 only look in upon and know this little western class of six and their 
 teacher, you might despair of your book, or any book for study 
 helping them: often no previous study, perhaps the question-book
 
 BLESSED WORK. 269 
 
 not opened at home ! bright, intelligent, educated(P) girls of seven- 
 teen and eighteen years. (Western material must be taken as it is.) 
 Now, is not this the question for your comfort, dear Mrs. Benjamin? 
 if this question-book, prepared as loving service for the Master, 
 can interest, help, and bless in such a class, what may it not do 
 when properly used, under favoring circumstances and by skilful 
 teachers? To-day we had the 28th Lesson, "Our Saviour." I 
 wish you could have looked upon the sweet/ young, earnest faces, 
 as their Bibles were searched and the precious references read. 
 Will you not pray for this little class, that the Spirit of all grace 
 may accompany and bless more and more your questions, that the 
 "Eleven Months in Horeb" may be to each one the beginning of 
 a new life of love, joy, peace, and trust in their risen, loving, living 
 Saviour? They are all communicants, of our church. Soon all 
 will be out on life's stream in earnest, immersed in care and re- 
 sponsibility. Only a passing moment are they held through your 
 book in a Sunday-school Bible-class. I cannot but believe these 
 "Horeb Lessons" will go on and on in blessing, the influence 
 descending upon children's children. Yes, I hope all this, for I 
 know the power of early impressions upon the most thoughtless 
 " butterfly nature." It was God who put the plan of this book into 
 your heart, I am sure. Blessed work ! to be the chosen hand to 
 open the Bible, turn its pages, pointing continually to "the Lamb 
 of God which taketh away the sins of the world," to eager, lodging, 
 prepared hearts. This, under God's blessing, I trust, your book 
 is doing here. Our Sunday-school uses the popular "National" 
 questions, but I never want to try to teach through any other books 
 than " Horeb," and its companion, "The Church in the Wilder- 
 ness." Indeed, I am so old these teaching-days seem a kind of 
 "borrowed time." Were not the priests set aside from active 
 temple-service after their fiftieth year? 
 
 You wonder, perhaps, how we like the second volume? Now 
 and then we have been able to have our Sunday afternoon lessons. 
 We hope to begin in earnest after dear N. comes home. She is in 
 Philadelphia now. 
 
 " Brightside" came to us. Many thanks for the book, and still 
 more thanks for what it is, "good children that do not die," and 
 all the beautiful home-pictures, sweet, good, loveJy, yet common 
 enough and life-like to be all true.
 
 270 A WHITE RAVEN. 
 
 Who wrote the ''Pillar of Cloud" verses, "Just what they 
 needed, wonderfully fitted"? 
 
 Thanks, too, for being on my side, and making Henry and Mary 
 not go to Sunday-school. There may be such a shady side to 
 Sunday-schools that good parents may keep their children at home 
 (teach them themselves), and not sin, I think. 
 
 Did you ever see a raven painted white ? Well, here is your 
 Raven, so pictured in her nest by a loving young painter, that did 
 not care to keep true to nature* (son of a dear, old friend of near 
 forty years), passing his Amherst vacation with us last Christmas, 
 his father, editor of the little island paper, "The Friend." " Dis- 
 tance lends enchantment," a white raven ! 
 
 I hope these balmy days are making you so much better. Whither 
 your summer flitting, may. I ask? The Sandwich Islands are "a 
 perpetual May; no heat, no cold, the one blessed sunny spot of 
 this world," my friends think Want to go ? 
 
 With true and grateful love, 
 
 Your 
 
 RAVEN. 
 
 FROM MRS. BENJAMIN. 
 
 , Feb. 7, 1875, 281 Fourth Avenue, N. Y. 
 
 DEAR MRS. PLATT : 
 
 I inclose one of the few efforts I have been able to make^ Al- 
 though the word is not well chosen, for this was no "effort," 
 it simply came to me, and I wrote it down. I am still an invalid, 
 though nearer recovery than ever before. When you have done 
 with that dreadful little note-book, will you please send it to me 
 by express? Have you tried the "Church in the Wilderness" ? 
 I want to know if you like it? My letters are limited to necessi- 
 ties ; so, with love, I am truly yours, 
 
 E. B. BENJAMIN. 
 
 * Refers to a description of herself, by F. W. D., at the time he passed his 
 Christmas vacation with us. See XXII., page 285.
 
 LETTERS TO MISS SNELL. 271 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " The lips of the righteous know what is acceptable." 
 
 Letters to Miss Snell Treasures of friendship A Mayflower Afraid of N. E. 
 college air New England greatness Nest robbed The mother's lot. 1873 
 to 1874. 
 
 THIS correspondence with Miss S. grew out of her interest in F. 
 W. D. the son of Mrs. Platt's Sandwich Island friend, while he 
 was at college in Amherst. There were numerous letters between 
 them, from which these few extracts are taken. 
 
 Mrs. Platt's anticipated pleasure of meeting Miss S., so frequently 
 mentioned, was never gratified. 
 
 AMHERST, MASS., November, 1878. 
 MR. PLATT: 
 
 DEAR SIR: In answer to your request just received I forward 
 with this, those of your wife's letters which I have preserved. It 
 is through these alone that one of my most pleasantly remembered 
 friendships was made. I keep them among the treasures, which 
 keep ever near me friends of the past years, and should dislike to 
 lose one of them. 
 
 If you will return them, when you have obtained what you wish, 
 I shall be truly grateful. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 S. C. SNELL. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, March 17, 1873. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND: 
 
 Surely Amherst must keep a warm, loving place in my heart. 
 I would like to meet you so much. Have you no curiosity to peep 
 at Western people? Next summer when Professor Snell proposes
 
 272 AM H ERST. 
 
 some little trip, can I not persuade you to suggest Ohio, to visit 
 dear Frank's* "Aunt Jennie?" Say yes, and then I will begin to 
 prepare you for the real life we live; not like dear Frank's painted 
 pictures. Do come and see. 
 
 In a former letter you wrote the "Daily Food" text for me 
 (25th February), my own birthday text! This little text-book has 
 been a companion since my sixteenth year. How many, many 
 copies have bound dear friends to the giver; and how many of 
 those dear oiies now are with Him who is the Bread of Life ! So, 
 dear young friend, you came to me filling one vacant place, using 
 my own little book. May He bless this little bond, and let us be- 
 come fellow-helpers on the pilgrim-path Zionward ! 
 
 DELAWARE, April 7, 1873. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND: 
 
 I am so sorry I did not talk to F more about his dear Am- 
 
 herst friends. He so often mentioned them as such dear, good 
 friends as no other college boy ever had. Still, I do not half 
 know them. He read me some Amherst letters. A lovely letter 
 came the day after his arrival in Delaware; it was directed in care 
 of our postmaster. Was not that letter from my Miss S. C. Snell? 
 (I took no notice of the name, though I remember well the spirit 
 of the letter.) 
 
 I do not wonder that he seemed jaded and wearied. Partings 
 with him mean much. I can never forget his good-bye to us ! 
 A tap at my chamber door showed the dear boy had rushed back 
 again, when some distance from the house, once more to say good- 
 bye; and the beseeching words, "Oh, Aunt Jennie! you will not 
 forget to pray for me?" I can well understand the Amherst 
 partings , 
 
 You will smile at my asking to know what is best; but, dear Miss 
 Snell, -I was born out of New England, does not that explain? 
 Please always remember this fact. I feel sure I shall see you in 
 Delaware, and it may be this very summer. You have not yqt 
 asked Professor Snell? He may come West and leave you with 
 us while he goes to the Mammoth Cave in July, who can tell? "In 
 a year or two" your Western tour "may come round?" Ah, I 
 
 * Mr. Frank W. Damon.
 
 NEW ENGLAND CULTURE. 273 
 
 dare not look ahead so far. Please plan to see us as soon as you 
 can. 
 
 DELAWARE, May 13, 1873. 
 MY DEAR MAYFLOWER : 
 
 You cannot help your inheritance of wisdom, and I cannot help 
 liking you in spite of it ! I guess this last fact proves you some- 
 what a degenerate, for I cannot even appreciate "wise people." 
 I am dreadfully afraid of New England college atmosphere. The 
 people of those favored spots seem to live in another world, so far 
 above the common. I have listened with profound reverence, 
 wonder, and admiration to descriptions of their social gatherings, 
 etc.; the kind of family reunions where everybody knew every- 
 thing, where book topics, or the world's passing events of deepest 
 nature, were playfully bandied about, as children would discuss 
 "Mother Goose's Melodies." Dear me, is not that truly another 
 world? Oh to be an unseen listener, with even culture enough to 
 only half comprehend ! Strange to say, after this, / want to go to 
 Amherst; and I shall not feel a bit afraid of Professor Snell's 
 family, not one of them ! I put in my plea of ignorance, and feel 
 sure New England greatness will cover all. 
 
 I made a visit to Arlington, Vermont, last summer; I think I 
 can never go again so near and not try to see Amherst. Many 
 thanks for the kind invitations to your home. Two strong barriers 
 are upon this project: I am too old to love to travel, with poor 
 head for railroad vriear; and have "no money." Western people 
 generally have plenty, so I guess. We do not belong East or West, 
 just a little household all by ourselves. 
 
 I am delighted with the plan of teaching in Minnesota. A New 
 Englander never can half appreciate himself until he stands upon 
 Western soil, is planted, takes root, and grows there. Such room 
 to grow! with God's sunshine, balmy breezes, nutritious earth, as 
 can be found nowhere else. With such room to work for the 
 blessed Master! One single true life lived among these Western 
 people, what unconscious influence, what power for good! I hope 
 you will come; and you- will never dare go by us without stopping, 
 I am sure. 
 
 Where was the fit reply that should at once have thanked you 
 for your last long letter, so very welcome, with the warm invita- 
 18
 
 274 A MAY-FLOWER BLOSSOM. 
 
 tion to our dear N ? We have changed our home, and this 
 
 household has been in such confusion as your eyes never saw. Let- 
 ters, except to absent children, had to wait. How glad I should 
 
 have been for N to see you all, and dear F 's college 
 
 home. But this could not be. She is now in Philadelphia; will- 
 be home early in June, I hope. You speak of N 's visit to the 
 
 Amherst home as "quite a descent from New York palaces !" Her 
 visit in New York was with her dear auntie, whose life-work is the 
 care of helpless women and poor children in a Home, 304 Mul- 
 berry Street, once a grand old house, but now old and forlorn, 
 situated in the midst of want, misery, and sin of all kinds. But my 
 sister is perfectly happy. I wish that you could call and see her 
 work (St. Barnabas House). .... 
 
 DELAWARE, September i, 1873. 
 MY DEAR MAYFLOWER : 
 
 Does not some invisible bond seem to keep you and dear F 
 
 near each other? Your letters keep coming together. Both friends 
 
 greeted me through the same mail last week I hope 
 
 "another moving" is not in the needed discipline of the coming 
 year. A May-flower in March or April would have special wel- 
 come, surely. Do try us. I want these young girls to see and 
 know what a brave New England girl can do when she has a will. 
 Who can tell what inspiration may not corne to us through a May- 
 flower blossom? I suppose a Yankee girl knows exactly what she 
 can and cannot do. (They all have wise mothers, you see.) Here 
 
 are N , J , H , and M , waiting for your inspiring 
 
 visit, dear Mayflower. Not one of them is in any "rut." Could 
 they be put in one, think you ? We do not think Miss Alcott throws 
 much light on "Work" for girls, nor " Other Girls," nor "We 
 Girls." No ; we are all just waiting, as I said, for our one May- 
 flower, to show us all we so much want to know. You will have 
 to come, now I have so clearly shown this western visit a duty, a 
 Bible "opportunity" (Gal. vi. 10). 
 
 DELAWARE, November 24, 1873. 
 MY DEAR MAYFLOWER : 
 
 Don't be frightened ; we will just take you in as " a poor speci- 
 men of a New England girl," and secretly rejoice that you are
 
 WELCOME TO OHIO. , 275 
 
 such, too, for I am dreadfully afraid of New England's "perfect 
 woman, nobly planned." But why has " niece Sabra's" little letter 
 waited so long for reply, ever since 3d October? Because all let- 
 ters have waited. Sickness in the family, and household changes; 
 early, severely cold weather, that always makes me half sick ; all 
 this has kept me from writing many letters. I wanted to respond 
 at once, and say how glad we shall be to welcome you to Ohio. 
 Do tell us where your home is to be, how near us? Tell Mrs. 
 Snell this is to be the home when you want to rest, or if you are 
 sick at all. We are " plain, kind people," that will take good care 
 of you. 
 
 I am glad you know something about "no help," as these panic 
 times and dull business winter the children have sent away our 
 good servant, and for weeks now we have been trying "We Girls" 
 life. Alas, that "we girls" in the book, and "we girls" in Dela- 
 ware, Ohio, should be so unlike ! You have read the book ? Then 
 come and see for yourself the difference. 
 
 I hope "Cousin F." has prepared you for Ohio mud. How you 
 will miss clear, crisp New England winter ! Winter is the most 
 dismal time to see Ohio. But we will try to keep you warm ; 
 though Ohio people never are snugly " fixed up" for winter, and 
 so " freeze up" when the thermometer leaps down to 14 or 28 
 below zero. Then likely the next week, or sooner, we put up our 
 windows to let in the mild air and sunshine ! So we have variety, 
 surely. 
 
 DELAWARE, October 19, 1874. 
 MY DEAR MAYFLOWER : 
 
 What a blossom you are ! You cannot know how pleased I was 
 
 to see your letter of October 8th. I wrote to F this summer, 
 
 "Oh, do not let Miss Snell forget 'Aunt Jennie.' Tell her all 
 this time her letter stands before me, in my open desk, just waiting 
 for hand-time; the heart made response at once, long, long ago. 
 I do want to meet her very much." About the time your letter 
 came an invalid cousin called for all my time. She only lingered 
 a few weeks after her return home. Then I had weeks with neu- 
 ralgia, an old visitor, and the rest of the winter was the trying to 
 get back to my usual strength. 
 
 In April my nest was robbed, and our eldest birdie was carried
 
 276 THE MOTHER'S LOT. 
 
 off! For twenty-five years she had been our household help and 
 comfort. For a long time before, and long after, I had to try hard 
 not to be selfish. Never sweeter song than Jean Ingelow's "Seven 
 Times Six" : 
 
 "The mother's lot, 
 Her lot to bear, to nurse, to rear, 
 To love and then to lose." 
 
 But now the dear girl is so happy in her new home ; her mother 
 is happier, too, for this nest-stealing ! Why do we sit down in dis- 
 couragement when we come to a rough step in our path ? Always 
 there is the Helper's hand ; always the listening heart may hear. 
 "Love is the meaning of all He does or permits." You smile, 
 and wonder I give all these family details. Dear Mayflower, I 
 want you to see just why your letter remained unanswered. Not 
 quite strong for some years, though the past year there has been 
 less and less strength, and letter : writing almost ceased, except to 
 absent children. My "worries" seem all over (New England 
 people don't worry, I know) ; and I hope kind, true friends, will 
 let me write to them, though I have seemed so bad and neglectful ! 
 You are coming to Cleveland ? Now you will come to Delaware, 
 
 if possible ? Would I go near Amherst and not look up F 's 
 
 " dear Miss Sabra?" 
 
 Ever found a Mayflower in October? Was it not a rare, pre- 
 cious blossom? Just so I prize your last; so kind, so very kind 
 to let the little thread of loving interest run on and on, just the 
 same, over all these silent months. Cannot I see and thank you 
 face to face ?
 
 HAPPY CHRISTMAS. 277 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " He that abideth in me and I in him the same bringeth forth much fruit." 
 
 Miscellaneous Christmas eve, Christmas clay, a joyous season all over the house 
 A nice long breakfast F. W. D.'s sketch of a Christmas scene in Ohio 
 Letter to Bishop Bedell To President Merrick Autumn of life John S. Hart 
 Questions for the pulpit Criticism of " Middlemarch" " Sex in Education" 
 Letters to a godchild, with a tribute to her brother. 
 
 CHRISTMAS was for Mrs. Platt the most joyous season of all, and 
 she ever entered into preparations for its observance with all the 
 energy and zest of her active nature prompted by her warm and 
 generous heart to unusual efforts, to make every one happy ; her 
 skilful fingers and inventive genius making ample amends for lack 
 of means, in supplying love-tokens for the children and dear friends 
 whom she wished to have remembered. 
 
 She wanted all to be "happy" at Christmas (she preferred to 
 use the term "happy Christmas" instead of "merry") and they 
 were so; a happier family than hers was not to be found; and it 
 came to be regarded as a favor to be invited to Mrs. Platt's Christ- 
 mas gatherings, where her own bright and joyous spirit diffused 
 happiness and good cheer to all herself the centre of all attrac- 
 tion, because so loving and kind to every one. 
 
 The two following descriptions of Christmas eve and Christmas 
 day were found among her papers and marked, "Because about 
 the family I would like to arrange and copy for these dear chil- 
 dren. Feb. 21, 1877. Mother." 
 
 "FAMILY INSPIRATION." 
 
 OAK GROVE, Christmas Eve, 1859. 
 
 Surely this is the evergreen season ! I had stolen on tip-toe into 
 dear aunty's room, hours before she sent word "Come to my 
 room before you go to sleep." But the curly heads and shaggy
 
 278 "THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS." 
 
 locks, braided bands and first silken threads, blue eyes and brown 
 eyes how they had kept watch, as if sleep was not to come all 
 night. "Mother, I cannot get to sleep,." was repeated from bed, 
 couch, and crib, for baby's wide-open eyes spoke plainly as words 
 could tell, that he knew this was Christmas eve. Then the finish- 
 ing touches that "would take but one minute" but how many 
 " one minutes" did the little time-noter count all unheeded ! Half- 
 score white rabbits waiting for mother "just to finish" pink eyes 
 from the bead string "to go where the pins are stuck," with great 
 ears to find their delicate -lining from the "pink tissue-sheet." 
 Balls wanting "just two more stitches," dolls' shoes and hoods, 
 "all done but bows and tassels." Tiny cloaks and aprons finished 
 "all but buttonholes." 
 
 Twelve-year-old fingers had helped till long past bed-time, and 
 countless little parcels had been tied and marked amid much secrecy 
 and hidings from each other, as six pairs of little fingers collected 
 their offerings for sister Nellie to mark. 
 
 The Christmas tree is wanting this year, but Christmas bower 
 and table, with its snowy cloth and cedar wreaths, stand ready, 
 and now the nursery store is collected and arranged for the eager 
 morning eyes. Who could tell all that there is on and about that 
 table ! 
 
 And the gathering continues until breakfast hour next morning. 
 For this table Hood and Holland sang, Ruskin painted, Taylor 
 saw "Northern Lights," Abbott told inimitable stories, and Mother 
 Goose immortalized herself in "Rhymes." The sewing machine 
 stitched dressing gown, quilted hoods, fastened gauntlets on tiny 
 gloves, bound slippers, and tucked plaits up and down baby aprons. 
 Candlesticks with candles that would do to light fairies to bed. 
 Irons for dolls' laundry-work. Bright cup and spoon god- 
 mother's first gift for "the first Christmas," with its accompany- 
 ing gay rattle, just now held far above more costly gifts. A glit- 
 tering toy tea service and china closet stowed away in box, with 
 its cotton and moss packings. Dolly rolling in great easy chair on 
 one side, dolly in her new curtained bed on the other, with wicker 
 cradle for the third, " Mamma's cup for coffee," Nellie's vase for 
 flowers, aunty's box for matches, cap for grandma, home-made 
 portfolios for artists' efforts that will need direction "this is a 
 horse and this a dog" here a dappled cow on wheels, there a gray
 
 IT WAS ALL A PICTURE. 279 
 
 horse on rollers, and last named, but to be "first in estimation, 
 under the table Howard's skates "for sister," wheelbarrow for 
 Fred, and papa's first Christmas gift to each new-comer the 
 "treasure box" of building blocks. 
 
 No mention- is made of pink-eyed rabbits, or woolly dogs, or 
 furry cats, or the little parcels of kitchen-made cornucopias filled 
 with candy, with their red and blue ribbons hanging out Jane 
 and Bridget's contributions or the great basket of ginger nuts, 
 ginger men, and horses. Above all, nurse has hung the favorite 
 nursery card-picture of the "Infant Redeemer" Joseph and Mary 
 with the babe lying in a manger. 
 
 "Twelve o'clock" said the hurrying timepiece, and now the 
 mother stepped about once more to see that all was ready. One 
 moment at the table, with heart too full for words what a store 
 of heart affections was symbolized there in those "Christmas gifts !" 
 "Hallowed and accepted," she prayed, "through the great heaven- 
 sent gift we and ours; make all these children' Thine; accept 
 this gift to Thee." And then dear old aunty's* room was stealthily 
 visited, that light slumber might not be broken. It would not do 
 on Christmas eve to tell of the thoughts that came and tears that 
 fell as the eye took note about that room ! It was all a picture a 
 picture of the outward decaying life, of the inward never-dying 
 soul the woodfire embers had been covered, the andirons drawn 
 together, crossed with shovel and tongs, as I suppose New England 
 homestead fires were left seventy years ago, when Clara, " our 
 raven-head," was rocked asleep on the mother's knee, and while 
 father laid down newspaper for the pen and paper to plan and draft 
 aircastles and airy fortunes in the "Golden far-off West." The 
 sickly child that mused in the old settle corner while the others 
 talked and planned, and wished only that she might live to see 
 that "Land of promise." That toilsome journey was made at last 
 
 * Her husband's aunt on the maternal side, the oldest child of his grandfather, 
 Judge Wm. Thompson. 
 
 His was one of the " forty families" from New England that first settled in Wor- 
 thington, O., in 1803. 
 
 "Aunt Clara" was a gentlewoman of lovely disposition, who, though so slight 
 in figure and delicate, yet survived all but two of her father's family of nine, living 
 to the age of eighty-one years. 
 
 She was a frequent guest at our house, and a source of much pleasure and com- 
 fort to Mrs. Platt.
 
 280 PEACEFUL SLUMBER. 
 
 with head in mother's lap, while active brothers and sisters climbed 
 the mountain-sides "ahead," and at every stopping-place of rest 
 for the burdened animals returning to the great wagon with hats, 
 hands, and aprons full of wood-trophies for the darling sister. 
 "Backwoods" air and cabin life put fresh vigor in the frame, and 
 the child, so long and unweariedly nursed, was spared to be nurse 
 for all the family, and to return again to her native hills with hus- 
 band's strong arm to lean upon, and to "endure as seeing Him 
 who is invisible" long years of lonely widowhood; spared, yes 
 spared even a little longer to show to us how beautiful, how blessed 
 is old age, when the Creator has been remembered from youth's 
 first days. 
 
 One glance at the pillowed head told all this. 
 
 The rocking-chair stands before the fire ; daily newspapers (al- 
 ways read) ; the daily memorandum-book, where the coldest and 
 the hottest days were always noted ; the well-stored portfolio, ever 
 ready for response to letters from absent friends; the warm wrap- 
 per, with its sober facings ; the drab shawl, so smoothly folded ; 
 everything laid away as if " to-morrow" might never come for the 
 wearer; the Prayer-book, so time-worn ; and the large-print Bible, 
 first and last in the hands each day, all spoke. But the little table, 
 beside the bed, told why I was to come. There had been days of 
 unusual feebleness, when little feet had lovingly carried breakfast, 
 dinner, and supper to that fireside ; and all Christmas preparations 
 had been kept out of sight and sound as much as possible. But 
 the evergreen season could not draw nigh unnoticed by that heart 
 so warm, and fresh, and true to all that is sweet and lovely. The 
 trembling fingers had been busy, too. Cushions and needle-books 
 for all the family who could prize them, with their softened shades 
 of drab and brown, quaint in color and design, with bits of fringe 
 and tassels, and silken cord trimmings, that might have been used 
 for a grandmother's wedding gown, and told many a tale of olden 
 time. Here they lay, each marked for the Christmas table. 
 
 Peaceful slumber ! The snowy head, the deeply furrowed brow, 
 the dimmed eyes, what are these but tokens of the eternal youth 
 soon to be thine ? 
 
 Twice blessed is this Christmas eve, with its two almost angel 
 guests ! The aged pilgrim drawing nigh, and the tiny voyager so 
 lately left the gates of Heaven. Hearts never grow old. Love
 
 CHRISTMAS EVERYWHERE. 281 
 
 cannot die. The joys, the influence, the memories of Christmas, 
 are they not " evergreen ? v 
 
 J. H. P. 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, January 17, 1860. 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 It is Christmas all over the house; Christmas all through the 
 
 town ! Down at , where the inverted breakfast plate covers 
 
 only golden gifts; round at Widow S 's cabin corner, where 
 
 Benny's threadbare stocking holds peanuts and gingerbread ; over 
 at Dr. G.'s, where the good father spares no expense or trouble 
 in helping the children see his fatherland and its Christmas tree ; 
 Christmas candles, and Christmas made merry half the night. 
 What fairy land ! Fairies work, when at last the opened door 
 unlocks a day's mystery, and music bids Christmas eve begin. 
 The enchanted tree, and its moss-side lake below, with magnet 
 swans and ducks floating about in miniature imitations of nature. 
 What do not those children see? 
 
 It is Christmas morning even in Friend Levis's* quiet mansion, 
 where the gentle mother has taken down from the highest shelf 
 the tiny cups and saucers of purest china, with their curious little 
 teapot, a perfect cauliflower, with bright-green leaflets covering 
 all but spout and lid ; the play-table, before the parlor fire, holds 
 all these ; and on each plate, cup, and saucer-picture, are bits of 
 broken candy, nuts, and raisins, grapes that have travelled many 
 a mile from their warm, native clime, with doughnut boys and 
 girls, fresh-made yester eve. Even Quaker schools are closed ; 
 and, although all outward observance is unseemly, the children 
 must have holiday ; and there must be muffins for breakfast, mince 
 pie and cranberry tarts for dinner, and little cousin guests for a 
 "baby tea." 
 
 But here is Christmas in our own hf5me. Baby, your crib will 
 be overturned, I fear, in the general rush to get mother's first 
 Christmas kiss. " Cannot wait to get dressed." 
 
 "Softly! Christmas will last all day." Nurse should have a 
 dozen hands, stockings, shoes, and aprons, all to be again and 
 
 * Of Burlington, New Jersey.
 
 282 BEAUTIFY THY SANCT.UARY. 
 
 again assorted. Baby, you are ready first to claim your papa's 
 kiss. "We meet in aunty's room for prayers this morning; you 
 need not bring the books ; all know this morning's hymn and 
 tune; all can join in the thanksgiving." 
 
 " Hark, the glad sound, the Saviour comes ; 
 
 The Saviour promised long. 
 Let every heart prepare a throne, 
 And every voice a song. 
 
 " Our glad hosannas, Prince of peace, 
 
 Thy welcome shall proclaim ; 
 And Heaven's eternal arches ring 
 With Thy beloved name." 
 
 To our prayers, O Lord, we join our unfeigned thanksgiving, 
 because Thou didst give Jesus Christ, Thine only Son, to be born, 
 as at this time for us, made very man, without spot of sin, to make 
 us clear from all sin. Therefore, with angels and archangels, and 
 all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify Thy glorious 
 name, evermore praising Thee. 
 
 Yes, this is "a nice long breakfast," H. See, that tell-truth face 
 [the clock] from out the ivy wreath, almost time for church ! Never 
 mind snow-shoes; Father has promised a ride to-day. F. has al- 
 ready stationed himself at the lawn gate on the look-out, and H., 
 too, is ready now to join him and give directions. They shout 
 " the omnibus is coming." The boys get in. The old ladies* 
 will be ready, bonnets on, folded handkerchiefs, and prayer- 
 books and crutch in hand. " There is plenty of time; the omni- 
 bus cannot turn in that narrow lane, but must go around and down 
 the other street before it calls again for you." "I will meet you 
 at the church must tie up a box for aunty that the express-man 
 carries to some little ones whose dear father is to-day suffering 
 many, many miles from home." 
 
 The church is beautifully decorated, "the fir tree, the pine tree, 
 and the box together to beautify the place of Thy Sanctuary." 
 How sweetly soothing, how full of joy are these services! How 
 near He comes! In the manger and on the cross 
 
 " Was ever love like Thine." 
 
 * Referring to the Misses Bills, two old ladies well known, members of the 
 church, who lived near to us.
 
 A CHRISTMAS DINNER. 283 
 
 H.'s restlessness is quieted, and J.'s wandering eyes are fixed as 
 though even they could catch to-day something of the blessed 
 spirit of 
 
 " Her sweet communion, solemn vows, 
 Her hymns of love and praise." 
 
 Church is out, and grandma joins the little flock. How they 
 press and crowd about her, each eager to secure her ear and whis- 
 per of "the ride" in store. 
 
 Now grandma, the old ladies [Misses B.], mother, and children 
 are all in, and the "all ready" word is given. Rough roads, rat- 
 tling pannels, and clattering windows, "all the better, a thousand 
 times better than a carriage ride," the majority (the children) de- 
 cide, and the minority look too happy to dissent. The crutch is 
 tightly clasped, and grandma's bonnet is held with both her hands; 
 the young feet, despite all mother's steadying, seem rather dancing 
 than having a Christmas ride. Some, at least, are glad when home 
 is reached. 
 
 Now the bower table is visited, and grandma's cap must be tried 
 on, and packages that have traveled seven hundred miles, and 
 waiting only for her presence, are to be opened. F. has read 
 his name, and with puzzled look begs mother see, and say how 
 could "Sunday last all the week?" N. has found a box of winter 
 buds and flowers that the postman has brought from her dear aunt's 
 garden among the beautiful hills where the Schuylkill takes its wind- 
 ing way. The mother gives one glance at them, and sees again 
 her own old home, close by that spot its Christmas gatherings 
 and old associations clustering around "The Eldest" "Immortal" 
 as are these flowrets' name. 
 
 The dinner is ready, and grandma takes the seat of honor, while 
 mother asks if she is not proud to-day; is sure she may be. Dear 
 Aunt Clara can leave her easy chair, and join - our group at the 
 table. Only one strange guest is present, and he, perchance, may 
 be even now more than a friend to one of the three sisters opposite, 
 dear orphan girls whose home is with loving hearts now beneath 
 our roof [the Misses Franks]. The cottage neighbors our guests 
 to-day [the Misses Bill] have long been as familiar friends, so 
 attractive to our little ones has been their humble home with its 
 canary cage, rare garden flowers, and kind words of welcome; 
 children are never "in the way" there.
 
 284 PRECIOUS MEMORIES. 
 
 Grandma's " boys" are all together, and mother's too, all but 
 baby. The Christmas dinner table will hold all; even playmate 
 Charley has been gathered in. 
 
 One frolic-making uncle and two beloved aunts, who best love 
 Christmas on the eastern side of the "mountain," and one detained 
 by loving friends to grace and cheer a motherless home, we do not 
 count with us to-day. We cannot see them, yet do we not feel 
 them here? And one more; the soft loving eyes looking from 
 that life-like picture [her sister, Mrs. Canfield]. 
 
 " The image of the dead, 
 On whose calm, speaking face 
 The light of heaven is shed ; 
 She seems an angel guest, 
 With eye and brow of love, 
 Sent from the pure, the blest, 
 To lift our hearts above." 
 
 Oh, what memories cling around thee, companion sister ! Child- 
 hood's best loved, most loving friend. The distant mountain home 
 amid the "groves of rustling pines" to-day keeps Christmas for 
 thy beloved motherless ones. How my heart yearns for them. 
 Would that I could count them here. 
 
 " We are all here. 
 
 Each chair is filled we 're all at home, 
 Even they the dead the dead so dear; 
 Fond memory, to her duty true, 
 Brings back their faded forms to view; 
 How lifelike through the mist of years, 
 Each well-remembered face appears ; 
 We see them as in times long past ; 
 From each to each kind looks are cast, 
 We hear their words, their smiles behold, 
 They are round us as they were of old. 
 
 We are all here. 
 
 O then, that wisdom may we have 
 That gives a life of peace below, 
 So in the world to follow this, 
 May each repeat in words of bliss, 
 
 We 're all all here.' "
 
 AN OHIO CHRISTMAS. 285 
 
 The following description of a Christmas at our home, by F. W. 
 Damon, is taken from "The Friend" for February, 1873, pub- 
 lished in Honolulu, by Rev. S. C. Damon. F. W. D. was our 
 guest during the Christmas-tide of 1872-73. 
 
 AMERICAN HOME LIFE AT CHRISTMAS. 
 
 Miss Fredrica Bremer, in her book entitled " The Homes of the 
 New World," has sketched many charming and delightful homes 
 scattered through America, from the Atlantic to the Falls of Min- 
 nehaha, in Minnesota. To understand and appreciate the Ameri- 
 can people, it is requisite to visit them in their quiet rural homes, 
 away from the great centres of business and lines of railroad travel. 
 One of our correspondents has briefly sketched one of these homes 
 situated in Ohio, the very heart of the nation, which may be taken 
 as a type of ten thousand such in other parts of the widely extended 
 country. "Aunt Jennie" and "Little M." are names we shall not 
 erase, because they are too typical, although the characters are not 
 fanciful, for they are like the "Oldtown Folks" of Mrs. Stowe, 
 which are said to be found in every town in New England. If our 
 limits would allow, we might set over against this sketch of a 
 Christmas scene- in Ohio, a New England Thanksgiving sketch. 
 
 The family are busy for the near-coming Christmas-tide: the 
 great Birthday has its meaning here. 
 
 Christmas brought , with a young friend from Columbus. 
 
 They managed to keep the house very lively. The whole family 
 entered with zest into all the Christmas festivities. Christmas eve 
 we went \o service in the prettily decorated church, when the 
 Rector gave us an excellent sermon. Early Christmas morning 
 we heard "Little M." singing carols, in her pure sweet voice, 
 urging us all to hurry for our gifts. Twelve full stockings in a row, 
 with a table brimming over with presents, showing the love of the 
 family in as beautiful a way as I have ever seen manifested. ' The 
 
 stranger within the gates' was not at all forgotten 
 
 Every now and then there would be a ring at the door, and an 
 express- bundle incoming, which would call forth a chorus of de- 
 lighted "Ohs," and "Ahs." We were fairly flooded with pre- 
 sents. 
 
 Christmas morning service again in the church, with a Pastoral
 
 286 TO BISHOP BEDELL. 
 
 letter from the Bishop, who is at present in Europe. We had 
 dressed the parlor and dining-room with greens. Everything 
 said a right " Merry Christmas." The dinner was indeed bounti- 
 ful. "Aunt Jennie" beamed on us all from her lovelit eyes. Her 
 face is wonderfully beautiful and refined, with its soft lines lighted 
 with the beauty of an inner peace and harmorty, set in its framing 
 of natural curls, touched as yet only here and there with the silvery 
 sheen of passing years, and her voice, so sweet and tender, touching 
 one like music. I have rarely known a mother who lived as much 
 in her children. In the evening our games occupied us until the 
 hours were getting small again. 
 
 I know you will forgive my dwelling so much on this home- 
 picture, there is so much of beauty in it. The mother with her 
 girls, as bright and hopeful as the youngest of them. The family 
 group in the fire-light, or busy fingers and bright faces over the 
 home-made Christmas gifts, or the two full pews at morning service. 
 I cant't forget them. 
 
 We have a few moments, now and then, for books and authors. 
 With the business and pleasant homely cares of life, there are such 
 aspirations to take the bright and beautiful things in books and 
 music. The mother-presence at the head, guides and directs all. 
 We are reading aloud Owen Meredith's "Lucille." This morning 
 we have been reading one of Edward Garrett's quiet English 
 stories. 
 
 DELAWARE, December 4, 1868. 
 RT. REV. G. T. BEDELL, D.D. : 
 
 DEAR BISHOP: I hardly, indeed do not know why, in listening 
 to your sermon last evening, the hearing was of the present; the 
 seeing, of the long, long past. A group of young girls, " Phoebe," 
 "Fannie," and Jeanette, round the evening study-table, with its 
 green cover. The "game of spelling" from the box of alphabet, 
 the terrible dread lest the poor speller should be found out, in pre- 
 sence of the learned boy-student, who, not condescending to notice 
 "such little girls," was not so deep in his book that he could not 
 now and then offer a suggestion, or give a smile at some signal 
 failure. Fresh, as yesterday, the people and appointments of the 
 simple, tasteful Christian, home of that beloved pastor, where I
 
 THE BEARER OF GOOD TIDINGS. 287 
 
 first saw my Bishop, near forty years ago ! His father's church, 
 in its never-to-be-forgotten gbrgeousness to young Quaker eyes 
 with the massive columns, and drapery of purple and gold, and the 
 awe-giving inscription over the chancel. Too young and careless 
 to care for sermons, the speaking presence of the preacher, the 
 intonations of that most loving voice, in entreaty and warning, will 
 live forever, "yet speaking," thus showing forth the power and 
 honor the Master sometimes chooses to put upon "earthen ves- 
 sels." 
 
 Dear old Bristol College, in hallowed, buried memories, came 
 again, in the cheerful bustle of commencement-day. The flitting 
 to and fro of the important seniors ; the rustic platform, and the 
 rustic crowd gathered about it ; the speakers and speeches of that 
 day ; the rough little ferry-boat, with its over-load of young folks 
 carrying their picnic dinners, to be eaten under the campus trees, 
 with meetings and greetings; the voices, the faces so soon to pass 
 from earth what calls the echo, but the one old truth, " They e"rr 
 who tell us love can die !" 
 
 So remembering and listening last evening, I saw that G. Thur- 
 ston Bedell of the past was the Bishop before me; and I wondered 
 if the Chief Shepherd always sent with "the feet" made "beauti- 
 ful," bearing "good tidings," a cheering sense of the worth of 
 their high mission? As if He who watches and guides the spar- 
 row's wing, could leave a toiling Bishop's heart without all needed 
 cheer ! 
 
 Coming from church I heard again and again, "the Bishop's 
 very best sermon!"* "He should preach that sermon in every 
 parish." May it carry with it impressions for good, never to pass 
 away ! Must not this be sealed with His promise, " My word shall 
 not return unto me void?" Going about these western parishes, 
 never think to measure the comfort and good dispensed by the 
 courteous greetings and words given back. In the coldest parishes 
 there are many warm hearts that welcome their Bishop's visits, were 
 the signs and words wanting? The Good Shepherd's blessing 
 comes "upon the evil and the good." He directs a bishop's feet 
 to the feeding of many a famishing lamb ; a bishop's reward, when 
 they that be teachers "shall shine as the brightness of the firma- 
 ment ; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for- 
 ever and ever." 
 
 I hardly know how I have dared to say all this to you so freely,
 
 288 AUTUMN OF LIFE. 
 
 dear Bishop. Perhaps because it has been denied me the comfort- 
 able home-appointments that would let us always beg you and Mrs. 
 Bedell to be our guests in Delaware. And I wanted you to be- 
 lieve, in memory of the past, and in fullest appreciation of the 
 present, warmest welcome must be ever yours, from 
 
 J. H. P. 
 
 As the passing breeze, that asks no notice, please look upon these 
 impulsive words. 
 
 Friday, October 20, 1871. 
 DEAR PRESIDENT MERRICK : 
 
 Will you and Mrs. Merrick have this picture? [her photograph]. 
 Please keep it as a reminder of your kindness, the little railroad 
 ride, and our broken talk of Tuesday last. 
 
 Your words about " the autumn rest," so "soft and sweet," as 
 type of the "decline of life's long pilgrimage," found such answer 
 in my own heart, calling up these treasured verses. I do not know 
 who wrote them, but my picture says them, because they are the 
 true expression of my whole heart. 
 
 Gratefully yours, 
 
 JEANETTE H. PLATT. 
 
 [On the back of the note was written : " Not for ' the al- 
 bum' ; please fold them away together," referring to her por- 
 trait and the accompanying poem. 
 
 The verses alluded to are the following : ] 
 
 THE AUTUMN OF LIFE. 
 
 Fling down the faded blossoms of the spring, 
 
 Nor clasp the roses with regretful hand ; 
 The joy of summer is a vanished thing; 
 
 Let it depart, and learn to understand 
 The gladness of great calm, the autumn rest, 
 The peace of human joys the latest and the best ! 
 
 Ah, I remember how, in early days, 
 
 The primrose and the wild flowers grew beside 
 
 My tangled forest paths, whose devious ways 
 
 Filled me with joys of mysteries untried, 
 And terror that was more than half delight, 
 And sense of budding life, and longings infinite.
 
 AUTUMN OF LIFE. 289 
 
 And I remember how, in life's hot noon, 
 
 Around my path the lavish roses shed 
 Color and fragrance, and the air of June 
 
 Breathed rapture; now those summer days are fled, 
 Days of sweet peril, when the serpent lay 
 Lurking at every turn of life's enchanted way. 
 
 The light of spring, the glow, are o'er, 
 
 And I rejoice in knowing that for me 
 The woodbine and the roses bloom no more ; 
 
 The tender green is gone from field and tree ; 
 Brown, barren sprays stand clear against the blue, 
 And leaves fall fast, and let the truthful sunlight through. 
 
 For me the hooded herbs of autumn grow, 
 
 Square-stemmed and sober-tinted ; mint and sage, 
 
 Horehound and balm such plants as healing know; 
 And the decline of life's long pilgrimage 
 
 Is soft and sweet with marjoram and thyme, 
 
 Bright with pure evening dew, nor serpents' glittering slime. 
 
 Around my path the aromatic air 
 
 Breathes health and perfume, and the turfy ground 
 Is soft for weary feet, and smooth and fair, 
 
 While little thornless blossoms that abound 
 In safe, dry places, where the mountain side 
 Lies to the setting sun, and no ill beast can hide. 
 
 What is there to regret ? Why should I mourn 
 
 To leave the forest and the marsh behind ; 
 Or towards the rank, low meadows, sadly turn ? 
 
 Since here another loveliness I find, 
 Safer, and not less beautiful, and blest 
 With glimpses, faint and far, of the long-wished for Rest. 
 
 Is it an evil to be drawing near 
 
 The timeiwhen I shall know as I am known ? 
 Is it an evil that the sky grows clear, 
 
 That sunset light upon my path is thrown ; 
 That truth grows purer, that temptations cease, 
 And that I see afar a path that leads to peace ? 
 
 Is it not joy to feel the lapsing years 
 
 Calm down one's spirit ? as at eventide, 
 After long storm, the far horizon clears, 
 
 The skies shine golden, and the stars subside; 
 Stern outlines soften in the sunlit air; 
 And still, as day declines, the restful earth grows fair. 
 
 19
 
 290 JOHN S. HART. 
 
 And so I drop the roses from my hand, 
 
 And let the thorn-pricks heal, and take my way 
 
 Down hill, across a fair and peaceful land 
 Lapt in the golden calm of dymg day; 
 
 Glad that the night is near; and glad to know 
 
 That, rough or smooth the way, I have not far to go. 
 
 OAK HILL, October 25, 1871. 
 MRS. J. H. PLATT 
 
 Will please accept our thanks for the beautiful picture and the 
 pleasant verses, received through the mail a few days since. Bless- 
 ings on you and your respected husband j and, if your path be 
 "down-hill," may it be 
 
 " across a fair and peaceful land 
 Lapt in the golden calm of dying day." 
 
 Kindly yours, 
 
 F. MERRICK, 
 F. S. MERRICK. 
 
 We first saw the above verses in 1870, in the Sunday School 
 Times, which was then published by the late Hon. John S. Hart, 
 at that time Principal of the State Normal School, at Trenton, N. 
 J. I wrote to him, inquiring if he knew the author, and received 
 the following reply: 
 
 TRENTON, N. J., Nov. 19, 1870. 
 MR. C. PLATT: 
 
 DEAR SIR: Your favor of the i4th is received. The selection, 
 "The Autumn of Life," was made by me. My cousin, Rev. A. 
 M. Morrison, had cut it from some religious paper, and showed it 
 to me. I admired it so much that I published it in the Sunday 
 School Times. None of us know who is the author. We would 
 like to know very much. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 JOHN S. HART. 
 
 Mr. Hart wrote again, under date of December 15, to Mrs. 
 Platt, as follows:
 
 WHAT IS TRUE PREACHING? 2QI 
 
 DEAR MADAM: 
 
 I return the poem as requested. It seems to have given you 
 some surprise that a "man" should have admired these verses. 
 Are we poor masculines, in your eyes, so utterly devoid of taste 
 and judgment? What will you say when I tell you that I have read 
 the poem aloud, at a large dinner-table, as the best way of con- 
 tributing my share to the social enjoyment, and that I have in like 
 manner read it to several other groups of friends ? 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 JOHN S. HART. 
 
 I have the impression that these Questions were written for pub- 
 lication, but do not know that they were published. 
 
 QUESTIONS FOR THE PULPIT. 
 
 March 10, 1873. 
 
 What is preaching the Gospel? What is meant by "And I, if 
 I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me?" (St. 
 John, xii. 32.) What does "attractions" of the Cross mean? 
 Can man be drawn by the preaching of the duty of self-examina- 
 tion,- self-denial, introspection? Are men ever made better by the 
 preaching that they are grievous sinners? Is there not full knowl- 
 edge of this in every heart without feeling of the fact? Is a man 
 saved through looking at himself? A sick man cannot feel his own 
 pulse. Is not Jesus the beginning and all "the way" of the soul's 
 return to God ? What kind of preaching can best lead a ruined 
 man to know himself? Should not all preaching only shut him up 
 to the One Teacher the "Light of Life?" Should not ministers 
 prepare their sermons as "workmen" under the Spirit, remember- 
 ing that He saves lost men by taking of the things of Christ, and 
 showing them unto him. 
 
 " Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God." 
 
 Mrs. Platt was "pure in heart" to an eminent degree. Purity 
 of thought, motive, and desire were leading characteristics; and 
 this made her quick to detect, and prompt and fearless to condemn 
 whatever was impure in books or papers. Acting under this prin- 
 ciple, she was moved to write the following:
 
 2Q2 SOUL LEPROSY. 
 
 July 22, 1874. 
 
 To THE EDITOR OF THE CINCINNATI DAILY GAZETTE : 
 
 As I put away to-day's issue from our children's eyes in sicken- 
 ing disgust, I ask, can there be any possible good wrought out of 
 all this horrible evil? This open outrage upon all decency the 
 disgusting revelations that cover more than one page of our usually 
 most welcome paper. 
 
 I know nothing of "Henry's" philosophy, that Mrs. Woodhull 
 carries out; but has not George Eliot's Middlemarch a taint that 
 if received and followed may develop just such evil? The power 
 of that book every reader admits, but do the young see, though 
 they may forever feel, the subtle evil hid among its thrilling pages? 
 The author thrusts at the sanctity of married life "the holy 
 estate" declared to be " honorable among all men." 
 
 God has so blessed marriage, that no two persons can enter into 
 it "reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of 
 God," that He will not mercifully, with His favor, bless and keep 
 them in harmony and happiness. 
 
 A " Dorothea" and "Casaubon" may exist. The Doctor's and 
 Laura's unhappiness is a possible phase of married life, but which 
 can never come to earnest true natures, fearing God. God always 
 moulds two natures into harmony, or He Himself supplies what is 
 lacking in each other, through His bestowed patience, forbearance, 
 and pitying love, and fills up the measure of household joy in even 
 richer, deeper fulness. 
 
 What is "magnetic affinity," and all that may belong to such 
 things? As I believe Middlemarch to teach, surely this is the 
 theory, "Two natures meeting and finding 'magnetic affinity,' 
 its fascinations and delights," have the seal of their Maker's ap- 
 proval upon their course. Is not this just soul leprosy? To be 
 pointed out and shunned as such? Has not the taint touched the 
 minds of many to the life-long peril of their domestic happiness? 
 It is asked, may not a man find affinity "the electric-thrills" 
 with' a woman not his wife? May not "Dorothea" be miser- 
 able in her husband's society, and yet very happy in the presence 
 of his "young cousin," and still be so good and loving? 
 
 The only answer is No! ntver! Every true wife or husband
 
 SEX IN EDUCATION. 293 
 
 would meet such iniquitous suggestions with the Saviour's words- 
 "Get thee behind me, Satan !" 
 
 J. H. PLATT. 
 
 TO EDWARD H. CLARK, M.D., Author of the little book, Sex in 
 Education." 
 
 DELAWARE, O., Aug. 4, 1874. 
 E. H. CLARK, M.D. : 
 
 DEAR SIR : Your " Sex in Education" has just been read by an 
 unlearned western mother, who wants to tell you that her experi- 
 ence, as the mother of five daughters and three sons, proves to her 
 the truth of the statements, convictions, and conclusions of your 
 book. Surely every true, watchful mother, who has raised daugh- 
 ters to maturity, must agree with you. 
 
 If it is not asking too much, will you please say where can be 
 found the best attempt at reply to your book, by "Yankee wo- 
 men," and the name of their publication. 
 
 MRS. CYRUS PLATT. 
 
 DR. CLARK'S REPLY. 
 
 BOSTON, Aug. 23, 1874. 
 MRS. CYRUS PLATT, DELAWARE, OHIO: 
 
 DEAR MADAM : Accept my thanks for your note of August 24, 
 and for your appreciation of my essay upon " Sex in Education." 
 
 Five or six replies have been published, none of which seemed 
 to me of sufficient force to merit an answer. 
 
 Perhaps the best one is "Sex and Education," edited by Mrs. 
 Julia Ward Howe, and published in Boston. 
 
 " No Sex in Education" has been published in Philadelphia. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 E. H. CLARK. 
 
 Mrs. Platt was very much interested in Kitty C., her godchild, 
 and always remembered her at Christmas and birthdays, sending 
 books or other tokens, with little notes written in her playful, 
 affectionate manner. From some of them these extracts are taken :
 
 294 A SONG OF PATIENCE. 
 
 
 
 DEAR KITTY: 
 
 What can a young girl do with this "Winter Idyl"* of the 
 Quaker poet? so much too dry and old for her; but say over its 
 pretty name, and peep at its pleasant snow-pictures, and believe 
 that it carries to her bright, best, and loving wishes, from heir 
 
 GODMOTHER. 
 
 Christmas, 1875. 
 
 December 23, 1876. 
 DEAR KITTY : 
 
 If only I were a fairy godmother, quickly this little knife would 
 turn into a beautiful book ! The world should be full of books and 
 flowers. 
 
 Poor "Johnny" ! How much he is in our thoughts. It seems 
 so sad to have to suffer in this joyous season. Christmas always 
 brings back past days, and how plainly I see the beautiful baby 
 boy, with fairest face and flowing curls, every one admiring and 
 wanting to caress him. 
 
 Indeed he was a most beautiful baby, and sweetest little boy, and 
 his voice so full of birdlike music. The children had a "singing- 
 school" in those days. " Little Drops of Water" they were trying 
 to learn. " Johnny" was but a wee fellow one Christmas time, and 
 had joined them in the parlor, where they were trying the tune. 
 " Oh, that's not right," he said ; and I called from the next room, 
 "Please, Johnny, you show them how;" and I can never forget 
 the tones of that childish voice, so clear and sweet in " little deeds 
 of kindness, little words of love." What a song of patience and 
 sweetness has been his whole life thus far ! No winter wind or 
 biting frost of suffering has stopped his trust and hope, or. taken 
 the cheer out of his voice, or the smile from his lips for every one. 
 
 I wonder if he calls his a very blessed, happy, useful life? Is 
 not he blessed and happy who ministers to the highest good of 
 those about him ? Surely; your dear brotherf has unconsciously 
 done this, is doing it now, though he may feel all "laid away." 
 
 * Whittier's " Snow Bound." 
 
 f The death of this young man occurred soon after that of Mrs. Platt. One 
 who was intimate in the family, and much with him during his last days, writes : 
 " From early childhood, on through twenty years, his physical sufferings were
 
 A SUPERIOR LETTER. 295 
 
 You can better tell him this that I am trying to say ; won't you 
 please do so ? 
 
 With my love and loving best wishes for yourself, 
 
 J. H. P. 
 
 FROM MRS. DR. McCABE, returning a letter inclosed to her, written by 
 Mrs. Platt to her daughter N , and to her husband, Mr. S 
 
 TUESDAY MORN. 
 MR. PLATT: 
 
 MY DEAR SIR : I do not know that I ever saw a letter from a 
 mother superior to the one inclosed. I have always valued- her 
 little notes and occasional letters; but of all I have seen from her 
 pen, this is the most remarkable. There is not only love and 
 4visdom, but an indescribable power of love and wisdom, as though 
 she were only a conduit, and life directly from Christ, flowing 
 through her to those dear children. Such honor have mothers. 
 
 Evidently her whole being was roused, and her- sanctified mother- 
 heart spoke divinely. While she writes such words of trust and 
 strength, how plainly one hears her cry out of the depth of help- 
 lessness, like an undertone, into the ear of God ! When I see such 
 exhibitions of grace, I "am glad, and rejoice in the Lord." 
 
 The letter of mine .... refers to a deep trial into which 
 the eminent Mr. S. came. I told her that his dear friend said it 
 was " lest his leaf should wither in the sun of his great popularity." 
 
 Most truly, 
 
 H. C. McC. 
 
 constant, and frequently intense. Mrs. Platt watched him and sympathized with 
 him most tenderly. He was wont to relieve days, and even sleepless nights of 
 pain, in exercising his inventive genius, and in gratifying his aesthetic taste, by 
 making articles to bestow upon the objects of his unselfish affection. His patience 
 and cheerfulness, as he saw hope after hope depart, were to many both a wonder 
 and an inspiration. Long before his death he had passed the Jordan of doubt and 
 fear. t Without impatience or repining at such a life of suffering, he fell asleep, 
 a complete victor through the crucified One."
 
 296 BAPTISM OF SUFFERING. 
 
 ' TO MRS. DR. McCABE. 
 
 March 6, 1877. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 Resting on my lounge, listening to daughter's reading the Psalter 
 
 for this morning, poor Mrs. S seemed so present the sacred 
 
 words and thoughts a kind of refrain about the touching story you 
 hinted to me last evening. I never felt a stronger throb of sym- 
 pathy. Next to God, a woman knows her sister-woman ; and a 
 pilgrim nearing home must so know and feel that "Hisways ; " 
 always so "high above our ways," are always most loving and 
 equal. No staggering or bewilderment of head or heart under that 
 touch of anguish the "heaviness for a night" can cast the faintest 
 shadow upon the work for her Master she was trying to do. He 
 would not permit that ; and so soon He sent the " joy in the morn- 
 ing." Thanks to Him, for the sister- voice that testified of His 
 love in sheltering His chosen " from the scorching midday sun. 
 "Hereafter" she would see that act was the fullest, deepest, th 
 crowning love-measure of His hand toward her. Now I think I 
 can listen and try to follow all she may speak or write, as never 
 before, after this baptism of suffering. May not this passage of her 
 life teach as her words and daily walk before never could do? 
 
 We cry, "God forbid that I should glory, save in the Cross !" 
 and he answers us in ways that we know not. Few hearts can 
 safely bear high noon of a successful work, or an exalted position 
 before man! . Then the "staining" comes, self falls, and the 
 Healer, Helper, and Restorer is glorified and exalted all in all. 
 " What is perfected piety but perfected self-renunciation, and per- 
 fected dependence upon the appointed Saviour? The last remnant 
 of a rebellious spirit that is shaken off by man, is self-dependence." 
 
 I want to call last evening's call all my husband's (he proposed 
 it, returning from Prof. W.'s). All winter I* have been hungry to 
 see you. You cannot think this? O yes, you will, when I tell 
 you of the attractions of soul to soul, that come not frorn any 
 earthly bond of fellowship, oneness of work, or any seeing eye to 
 eye, or being often face to face : it is felt, not explained by earthly 
 language ; it hints of the holy communion of the Better Country, 
 where spirits congenial shall know each other even as they are 
 known where those who have been permitted to touch us for
 
 PRECIOUS RECOLLECTIONS. 297 
 
 good here, may, perhaps, become our appointed leaders and guides 
 to heights of knowledge and joy, that " eye hath not seen, nor ear 
 heard," of " the things which God has prepared for them that love 
 Him." 
 
 But I " took my pen" only for a few words, to beg that when 
 you hand about to Christian friends some subject for secret prayer, 
 you will link my name in the sacred circle though I am not with 
 those who work, but those who only "stand and wait." 
 
 Your loving friend, 
 
 J. H. P. 
 
 FROM MRS. DR. McCABE TO MRS. SAYRE AND THE MISSES 
 
 PLATT. 
 
 Sabbath Afternoon, August 26, 1877. 
 
 MY DEAR YOUNG LADIES : 
 
 I have taken an hour on this, your dear mother's first Sabbath 
 in her new home, to express something of my sympathy to those 
 whom she holds dearest. 
 
 It was in the early spring I had some very pleasant hours of com- 
 munion with your mother. She then told me, as though she had 
 it specially to communicate, that her stay here would not be pro- 
 tracted. I endeavored to dissuade her, but her manner was so 
 positive and peculiar, always replying, "No; !/<?<?/it," that, full 
 of surprise and sorrow, I desisted. The last book she sent me was 
 entitled " Memorials of a Quiet Life," an account of a very rare, 
 spiritual woman, whom she greatly admired. In it is a reference 
 to a poem, which, happening to have, I sent to your mother ; and 
 I inclose it to you as the last poem I ever sent to her.* When 
 you are quite through with it I will ask you to return it, as it is one 
 of my treasures. 
 
 Among many precious recollections of the last few years is one 
 of a journey we once made together over the mountains. We 
 enjoyed the scenery ; and after a cheerful supper, having the car 
 all to ourselves, as the twilight drew on, we came together by the 
 
 * " When will He come," a very remarkable poem, author unknown. It is 
 published in many forms elsewhere.
 
 298 WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS. 
 
 lamp, and I read from my Prayer-book the evening Psalms. What 
 a never-to-be-forgotten hour it was ! She was never weary of speak- 
 ing to me of the wonderful Psalms ; and I think I still have a let- 
 ter of hers in which she dwells on the text, " Precious in the sight 
 of the Lord is the death of His saints." 
 
 As we learned each other better, my intercourse with your mother 
 has been to me what the coming in of excellent music and valued 
 things of beauty are to one's life; and it was a sharp pain, when 
 suddenly I found this lost. But now, I am assured, I shall never 
 lose her ; that the bonds of our union are daily strengthening, and 
 will continue to strengthen forever. I feel a thrill of joy when I 
 think of her in her new home. How interested she must be ! how 
 cheerful ! how delighted, and how glad when she thinks of your 
 coming to join her in so much pleasure and interest ! Doubtless 
 God would not have taken her from those who so need her 
 cheer and counsel, could she not do better things for you there 
 than here. And how? Such a loved treasure being forever with 
 the Lord must irresistibly attract you toward Him, and all He 
 prizes; all the spiritual loveliness and true goodness which, more 
 than natural charms, made your mother the rare and much-loved 
 person she was she is. How I long to see more women like her. 
 How much the world needs them, women who grow strong and 
 sweet through the discipline of circumstances, women who dwejl 
 in the atmosphere of love, and, like clouds ever near the sun, are 
 always bright, and become light and comfort to others. I am quite 
 sure I shall yet see these daughters as rarely good and sweet in their 
 own indviduality as was their mother in hers. Any other thought 
 would be a sad disappointment. 
 
 As I reverence and love her, and found, when she was here, so 
 much solace and pleasure in her society, you, her dear daughters, 
 will never cease to be objects of regard, and most earnest and 
 affectionate well-wishing to your mother's 
 
 Ever-loving friend, 
 
 H. C. McC.
 
 . TALENTS EMPLOYED. 299 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " The path of the just is as the shining light that shineth more and more unto 
 
 the perfect day." 
 
 Sympathy for the afflicted Letters from Mrs. Preston, Mrs. C. Todd, Mrs. Mer- 
 rick Bishop Mcllvaine To Mrs. McC., Mrs. L. C. From Bishop Jaggar, 
 Miss Snell. 
 
 MRS. PLATT was ever ready with a kindly word of sympathy for 
 friends in affliction ; and, either by written note or timely visit, 
 would try to minister comfort and consolation. The power to do 
 this seemed to be one of her special gifts. Her success in its exer- 
 cise may be inferred from some of the notes at hand, written in 
 acknowledgment of her Christian sympathy and kindly feeling. 
 The following is from Mrs. Preston, wife of Rev. William Preston 
 (formerly Rector of Trinity Church, Columbus, Ohio), acknowl- 
 edging a letter written on the death of a beloved child : 
 
 BRIDGEPORT, CT., Feb. 23, 1853. 
 
 How can I thank you, my dear Mrs. Platt, for so kindly remem- 
 bering us in our affliction? Sweet is the sympathy of Christian 
 friends. What precious promises you place before us ! At first I 
 could find no comfort even in the Word of God. But now I know, 
 I feel it is in love, in mercy, that we have been so sorely smitten. 
 It is a Father's hand has stricken us, and, though it is a bitter cup, 
 yet there is much to comfort in the early departure of our darling 
 boy to his heavenly home. Ido not ever think of him as in the 
 grave, but as one of the " cherub band," singing the song he loved 
 on earth. Though I rejoice in his happiness, I cannot but weep 
 and mourn over the home on earth made desolate. And should I 
 not? Even "Jesus wept o'er Lazarus dead." He knows our 
 grief.
 
 300 SUNBEAMS. 
 
 I had intended to write you long since, to congratulate you on 
 the addition of another to your little flock, "and also to thank you 
 for your letter received just before we left Columbus. My feeble 
 health, the excitement and fatigue of our removal, and getting set- 
 tled in our new home, must be my apology. Your letter was a 
 real comfort and encouragement in many a dark hour. I could 
 not begin to tell you how often I have repeated the words of your 
 couplet : 
 
 " Bear the burden of to-day," etc. 
 
 My earnest prayers often ascend for you and yours. May you 
 long enjoy your quiet, happy home, as free from the cares and sor- 
 rows of earth as the Christian may be. My husband unites with 
 me in kindest regards to your husband, yourself, and children. 
 
 Most affectionately your friend, 
 
 C. PRESTON. 
 
 FROM MRS. C. TODD TO MRS. PLATT. 
 
 
 
 Mrs. Todd's home was in Hartford, Conn. Her husband was 
 Dr. Eli Todd, Principal of the first Retreat for the Insane in the 
 United States, and for many years the only one. 
 
 She was visiting relatives in Delaware at the time referred to in 
 her note to Mrs. Platt. 
 
 May 13, 1861. 
 
 You give me altogether too much credit, my dear Mrs. Platt, 
 for the slight expression of good-will and interest in your happi- 
 ness. I am sure I did not say half that was in my heart. Don't 
 I remember that you and your good husband were the first to come 
 and see me after my arrival in Delaware last summer, and that 
 without delay ? And, then, didn't you keep sending me little 
 tokens of kind thoughts all along, even to the last day, darting 
 sunbeams into the old lady's pathway? and I insist that you are 
 a " trap to catch sunbeams" for others ; and I only wish they may 
 be reflected back upon yourself in a tenfold degree. The indebt- 
 edness is all on my side 
 
 Where is your sister Ellen now? If with you, give my love to
 
 "THEM THAT HONOR ME i WILL HONOR. 301 
 
 her ; and present my kind regards to your husband. Accept my 
 thanks for all your kind wishes, and believe me truly your friend!, 
 
 C. TODD. 
 
 The inclosed little allegory struck me as being very beautiful ; 
 and, as I think you are one to "create beauty" by perceiving it, I 
 send it to you. [Not found. C. P.] 
 
 DELAWARE, O., January 2, 1871. 
 DEAR MRS. MERRICK : 
 
 I have no right to intrude. I see no reason, only that I so much 
 want to speak with you. Only to-day, from Miss Merrick, have 
 I first heard of the sad care God has permitted to come to you, 
 so shut up in my own home do I live ! Did not know President 
 Merrick was not at his post in college in usual health. Only ex- 
 changed a few words with Miss M., and was so grieved, and yet 
 made so glad, "sorrowful, yet rejoicing-" (you will understand 
 such contradictions?), beseeching God for his healing help in this 
 " time of need," yet offering most hearty thanks for the manifesta- 
 tion of His loving power in sustaining your dear, suffering one. 
 Miss Helen says, you write that, under all his utter prostration, he 
 is enabled to sweetly "rest." How the blessed Master has hon- 
 ored your husband ! thus " choosing him in this furnace of afflic- 
 tion," enabling him thus to "glorify Him in the fires." Assure 
 him, if he is well enough for talking, that no sermon from his lips, 
 no lesson from his past daily life ever so " stood up for Jesus" as 
 does this voice from his feeble health, declaring the all-sufficiency 
 and power of "the everlasting Arm" in this most troubled, soul- 
 discouraging hour of " fiery trial." Can there be greater suffering? 
 
 "Whom the Lord loves," He "chooses" in such trial, and thus 
 sets His own mark upon him. Who but He can count and Compre- 
 hend the weight of each weary moment? "He knoweth our 
 frame," He ever "remembereth." He Himself made that "harp 
 of a thousand strings so wondrous." No touch, not a vibration, 
 and He not see it, and not "touched" also ! His own Everlasting 
 Arms are under "the sufferer," and "ministering spirits" ever 
 press around, desiring to see and adore the grace that can so sus- 
 tain poor, feeble man, "not knowing yet what he shall be."
 
 302 BISHOP M ILVAINE. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Merrick, may God cheer and comfort the comforter, 
 as I know you are to your poor husband ! I fear you cannot make 
 out this unstudied expression of my heart's deepest sympathy. 
 
 With earnest prayers, 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 J. H. PLATT. 
 
 FROM MRS. DR. MERRICK. 
 
 CLIFTON SPRINGS, N. Y., Feb. 6, 1871. 
 MY DEAR MRS. PLATT: 
 
 A month since I received a very sweet and sympathizing letter 
 from you. It should have had an earlier answer, which it so richly 
 deserved. I am sorry you felt it in any wise an intrusion to write 
 to me, for surely such kind and sympathizing words as yours could 
 never be an intrusion; and especially in such a time of need they 
 were very welcome. I know you will rejoice with me in the fact 
 that my dear husband is fast recovering his former health. We 
 
 have, I trust, recognized the Hand that has .afflicted 
 
 We have. been sweetly sustained and have often felt we were in a 
 loving Saviour's hands, who was leading us in the path best for us, 
 though mysterious to us. We feel all love and praise are due unto 
 Him, who has so wonderfully kept, sustained, and restored. Many 
 thanks for your loving words of sympathy; may they bring a rich 
 reward to your own heart. May the "blessing of the Lord, that 
 maketh rich and addeth no sorrow with it," be yours. 
 
 My husband joins in kind regards to your husband and yourself. 
 
 Kindly and lovingly yours, 
 
 FIDELIA S. MERRICK. 
 
 Bishop Mcllvaine was a warm personal friend and an admirer of 
 Mrs. Platt's, and was occasionally her guest during the time of his 
 official visits, and when not so, was always gratified by a visit from 
 her. As both were natives of Old Burlington, this formed a bond 
 of sympathy between them, strengthened by congeniality of spirit. 
 
 Perhaps the last time they met was in a railway train not long 
 before the Bishop's last visit to England. As soon as he learned
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPE. 303 
 
 that Mrs. Platt was in the adjoining car, he at once rose up to go 
 and see her. 
 
 Letters passed between them occasionally, but only this from 
 Mrs. Mcllvaine is found among Mrs. Platt's papers. 
 
 FROM MRS. McILVAINE. 
 
 CLIFTON, CIN., May 17, 1870. 
 DEAR MRS.' PLATT: 
 
 Your little note came by the mail of this morning, and I hasten 
 to reply. I am thankful to have it in my power to say that the 
 Bishop seems much improved since his return, which was, indeed, 
 quite unexpected. Though it has been necessary to write very 
 much more than was prudent, his head continues tolerably well, 
 though not quite free from that confusion which is so distressing. 
 Dur nights are so cool and pleasant here that he sleeps very much 
 better than he did, and his appetite is quite good. He naturally 
 has a most vigorous constitution and elastic mind, and these two 
 important elements will, perhaps, enable him to battle with disease 
 more than persons generally. His nerves have been much shat- 
 tered by our dear son's most sudden death, and though we have 
 so many more consolations mingled in our cup of sorrow than 
 parents frequently have in similar circumstances, yet the peculiar 
 tenderness we both felt for our delicate son has made this bereave- 
 ment leave a deep mark upon us both. 
 
 We are both very near our journey's end (my age being just two 
 years younger than my husband's), and our thoughts are continu- 
 ally upon that subject. We speak of death as not a thing to be 
 dreaded, or a subject to be avoided. As we have reason to believe 
 that we have four children with Jesus, there is much in this to 
 attach our hearts above. Jesus will make our heaven, but other 
 things our meeting with dear ones will add, as far as will be 
 good for us to our blessedness. What gratitude should we who 
 hope we are Christians have in the comfort that Jesus has taken 
 the sting from death ! 
 
 I should like to think that this is not the last letter I shall receive 
 from you. 
 
 Most truly and affectionately, 
 
 EMILY MC!LVAINE.
 
 304 A TIME TO WAIT. 
 
 TO MRS. DR. McCABE. 
 
 " Right dear in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." Morning 
 
 Psalter. 
 
 Feb. 24, 1872. 
 MY DEAR MRS. McCABE: 
 
 It may be that you and Dr. McCabe already know of the illness 
 of Mrs. B., and may have visited her. I have heard her speak of 
 you both as her dearest friends, as preferring Dr. McCabe to any 
 other minister, etc. All her family are here but one child, and I 
 am told she peacefully waits her summons home. How sweetly 
 this morning's Psalms bear upon her case ! How such "dying grace 
 seems to seal the blessed promises!" The "yea and amen" to 
 fellow-pilgrims behind, that " His merciful kindness is ever more 
 and more towards us" the Lord our help, strength, and song, and 
 our full salvation. 
 
 I wonder if you can "receive" this truth, that your kind little 
 note of November has, in will and unwritten words, been answered 
 many, many times through the winter? Winter to me is only a 
 waiting-time. Not sick, and not well, the cold touches and holds 
 the spring of all power and will. Sometimes not able to get to 
 church, yet not sick at all. Can your organization understand 
 this? 
 
 The refreshing sunshine and warmth of yesterday seemed like 
 taking breath again ! I hope very soon to see you. Will you put 
 this little volume* on your shelf and let me keep A Kempis? The 
 title may sound like "laying again the foundations;" but old 
 truths are herein presented in fresh, clear, practical light. I am 
 sure here and there you will glean golden thoughts. The chaff, 
 you see, is easily blown aside. The chapters on Intercessory 
 Prayer, Devotional Reading, Interruptions in our Work, Tempta- 
 tion, Suffering, etc., are full of good, helpful suggestions. 
 
 * Imitation of Christ, by Goulbourne.
 
 THE LOVING PILOT. 30$ 
 
 TO MRS. E. C...AT THE TIME OF HER MOTHER'S LAST 
 SICKNESS. 
 
 "Are they not all ministering spirits?" 
 
 DEAR MRS. C. : 
 
 I feel as if yoilr sick-room were filled with unseen ministry! 
 " About her bed," even as He has been ever "about her path." 
 All our times of sickness are arranged by Him, all the attending 
 circumstances the supports which are to animate, and the discour- 
 agements which are to depress the sufferer; and He cannot measure 
 out one pain too much. 
 
 Surely the loving Pilot who has guided and directed the whole 
 voyage, saving from the rocks, the tempest, and the waves, will 
 "never, no never forsake," when the frail vessel seems nearing the 
 haven. No, "precious" right dear in His sight, must be the 
 sick bed of His children ! Infinitely more than mother's tender 
 love hovers about them ! No sign of weariness, no moan of pain 
 escapes His ear, and though we cannot see or* know, yet "under- 
 neath are the Everlasting Arms." 
 
 May His peace and rest be with you all. 
 
 Affectionately, 
 
 J. H. P. 
 
 TO MRS. PLATT, FROM BISHOP JAGGAR. 
 
 CINCINNATI, March 14, 1877. 
 DEAR MRS. PLATT: 
 
 Thanks for your comforting and sympathetic letter. God only 
 knows how dark the path through which four bereaved children 
 have been led these past few weeks. Our mother was home to us, 
 and when she faded away there was no home left. I do not think 
 the home which we make for our children can ever take the place 
 fully of our own childhood's home. But my mother fell asleep, 
 as she lived, in Jesus; her last words, "Jesus Christ and Him cru- 
 cified." We rejoice that she has entered into rest; but the vacant 
 place is a dreary void. We can only press forward, forgetting the 
 things which are behind. 
 20
 
 306 KIND WORDS APPRECIATED. 
 
 Your words have done me good. It is very pleasant to be thus 
 thought of. 
 
 Sincerely your friend, 
 
 THOS. A. JAGGAR. 
 
 FROM MISS SNELL, ON THE DEATH OF HER FATHER, PROF. 
 SNELL, OF AMI! ERST. 
 
 AMHERST, MASS., April 12, 1877. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 Your kind words of sympathy have been a long time unan- 
 swered, but were none the less appreciated 
 
 I wish you could have seen my father here in his home, and 
 known him in his home-life ; he always seemed to me very re- 
 markable in it ; and many of our friends, when visiting here, have 
 spoken with surprise of it. We miss him everywhere, and all the 
 time ; but it was so exactly as he would wish to go, right from the 
 midst of his work, that I cannot but be glad for him that there 
 were no long years of weary waiting when he could not labor. 
 Nothing could have been more trying to him ; and I think it would 
 have been harder to me than parting with him to have seen my 
 bright, active father, losing his powers year after year. During 
 the last year of his life he had a few ill turns, similar to this last 
 sickness, which were a little warning to us of what might be coming; 
 so that, when the telegram reached me in Philadelphia of his ill- 
 ness, I was immediately prepared for the result. 
 
 I shall love to hear from you, should you ever have time to write. 
 Yours, with very much love, 
 
 SABRA C. SNELL.
 
 MRS. BISHOP THOMSON. 307 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 "In their death they were not divided." 
 
 Correspondence with Mrs. Anne E. Thomson Beloved, sympathetic friends 
 Death of Bishop Thomson of the M. E. Church Oneness in all sorrow 
 Stricken hearts comforted My little comfort; poem by Mrs. T. Mrs. Platt's 
 last letter of sympathy. 1870-77. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH MRS. ANNE E. THOMSON, WIDOW OF 
 BISHOP THOMSON OF THE M. E. CHURCH. 
 
 The following is probably the last of those notes of love and 
 sympathy that flowed so freely from Mrs. Platt's pen. 
 
 It refers to the death of Mrs. Thomson, which occurred July 
 29, 1877, three weeks before that of Mrs. Platt. 
 
 This letter is addressed to Mrs. Thomson's sister. 
 
 August 6, 1877. 
 MY DEAR MRS. WHITLOCK : 
 
 I need not try to tell how my thoughts have been with you in 
 your "house of mourning" all these days. I know more restful, 
 quiet, peaceful feelings have come come from Him who has never 
 failed His own. "/ will not leave you comfortless" and he has 
 not, I am very sure. 
 
 We should lose the meaning of his touch, its ministry would fail, 
 were there not sharp pain in the first "not joyous but grievous" 
 moments. But there is always sooner or later an "afterward" of 
 peace and rest, and an abiding nearness to Him who is the soul's 
 all in all. 
 
 If this be your first family bereavement, you will learn that when 
 the pall of sorrow is let down over a family, and to the observer 
 only darkness and gloom is beneath, then to them it is not " the 
 darkest day," for One is with the afflicted band whose presence is
 
 308 BISHOP THOMSON. 
 
 eternal day, and there is "light in the dwelling" the world knows 
 not of. 
 
 I send her last note. All the summer her words have lingered, 
 and I have thought of the " homesickness of the soul" so sweetly 
 mentioned by her. Then no matter the last shrinkage of the poor, 
 shattered nervous system the desire to wait longer here to fulfil 
 her Master's will, and train her boy for His high service the 
 body's thraldom of the spirit no matter : we know He had long 
 been making her meet for His presence, and her soul stood all 
 ready to flee away, "to dwell," as she said, "amid the permanent 
 joys of the ' Beautiful Beyond.' ' 
 
 May God bless and keep you all. 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 J. H. PLATT. 
 
 For some years there existed a warm friendship between Mrs. 
 Platt and the late Mrs. Anne Thomson, who preceded her to the 
 heavenly home only three short weeks. This lady, the wife of 
 Rev. Bishop Thomson, of the M. E. Church, survived the death of 
 her husband seven years. The first of these letters, it will be seen, 
 is one of sympathy at the time of Bishop Thomson's death. 
 
 Different but equally beautiful types of womanhood, they were 
 most congenial in heart and mind. Mrs. Thomson's poetic tem- 
 perament flowed readily in verse, much of which found its way to 
 the journals of the day. Her poems were marked with tenderness, 
 and with much sweetness and purity of spirit. 
 
 It is unfortunate that only a fragment of this correspondence can 
 be found. 
 
 Bishop Thomson died in March, 1870. The following note of 
 sympathy is from Mrs. Platt to Mrs. Thomson: 
 
 April 4, 1870. 
 
 " He giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might He increaseth 
 strength." 
 
 Mv BELOVED FRIEND: 
 
 Again and again I have said over this little verse, thanking God 
 for seeing its truth so verified in you. So it has ever been so it 
 will ever be. Not one word of Promise "hath failed of all the 
 Lord" our "Covenant Keeping God has spoken!"
 
 THY MAKER IS THY HUSBAND. 309 
 
 He will never forsake you. He can He does He will fill 
 every void. 
 
 I trust the bright sunshine of this morning has come to you as a 
 sweet, sure token from Him that His presence will go with you 
 through the sorrowful journey, now laid before your feet. Yes, 
 laid before you. For if it is your duty, it is His will, and your 
 present work for Him, and He will never leave you alone one 
 moment. "Like as a father pitieth" You have been permitted 
 to see the workings of our Father's heart in tenderest solicitude, 
 most loving care, and watchfulness over His children? God is that 
 Father over you. "As the apple of an eye" He watches and 
 guards. 
 
 " Five tiny sparrows sold for a farthing," yet their every want 
 provided by Him ! so that not one of them can fall to the ground 
 before its death-warrant has been signed by Him ! Surely then, 
 we know the minutest event of this crushing sorrow has been 
 planned and arranged by Infinite Love. All in the very best 
 way for His glory, and the highest happiness of all whom this great 
 bereavement touches. He Himself will bear you safely through. 
 " For" He, " Thy maker is thy husband, the Lord of Hosts is His 
 name, and thy Redeemer the Holy one of Israel." 
 
 It is the feeble, burdened ones that are ever "carried in His 
 bosom." 
 
 I have gathered up for you these little books telling of stricken 
 hearts " comforted of God." For there is oneness in all sorrow 
 over " only a baby," or the greatest loss earth can know. There 
 may come one little word of comfort meant for you in them some- 
 how. Just keep them, when I want them I will get them. 
 
 Almost every friend, in kind love, will send some book. One 
 good man says, "books, like a table spread with good food, have 
 dishes prepared to suit and nourish different tastes and wants." So 
 in your feeble, weary state, after Godjs Word, only touch those 
 you "like." 
 
 I only meant to say a word this morning. Excuse the trespass 
 that true love and deepest sympathy have made. 
 
 "The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the Ever- 
 lasting Arms." 
 
 "He hath said I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."
 
 310 MY LITTLE COMFORT. 
 
 "I, even I, am He that comforteth you." -The Lord ever com- 
 fort, bless, and keep you! 
 
 Your true and loving friend, 
 
 J. H. P. 
 
 One year after her husband's death, Mrs. Thomson sent Mrs. 
 Platt the following original poem: 
 
 MY LITTLE COMFORT. 
 BY MRS. BISHOP THOMSON. 
 
 All weary with his merry play 
 
 My little child has sought my breast, 
 
 And here on love's soft pillow prest 
 Has sunk to peaceful dreams away. 
 
 How lovely in my arms he lies ! 
 
 His face so innocent and fair, 
 
 The firelight goldening his hair, 
 And sleep's soft dew upon his eyes. 
 
 I press fond kisses on his brow 
 
 His father's brow, so pure and calm ; 
 
 And peace, her soothing, healing balm 
 Diffuses o'er my spirit now 
 
 So worn, so faint, so sad before, 
 Beneath the shadows sitting dumb; 
 As if it were God's angel come 
 
 With tidings from the other shore; 
 
 i 
 That shore to which my spirit turns 
 
 With longings that 'twere vain to chide; 
 
 To stem affliction's swelling tide 
 Is something which it slowly learns. 
 
 And often in irty quiet dreams 
 
 The faces of my loved I see, 
 
 And hear sweet voices calling me 
 So near the hill of glory seems. 
 
 Yet earth has still its charms for me ; 
 
 A Father's love hath sweetly smiled, 
 
 In giving me this little child, 
 A star to cheer life's troubled sea.
 
 MY LITTLE COMFORT. 3! I 
 
 The music of his pattering feet, 
 
 E'en when my soul is mute with pain, 
 
 Oft woos me back to life again, 
 As something yet, all fair and sweet. 
 
 His voice like song bird's sweetest note 
 
 Falls joyfully upon my ear, 
 
 And griefs, like clouds, when May is here, 
 Beyond a far horizon float. 
 
 And when my gloom gives way to tears, 
 
 His laugh, like brooklet's silvery tone 
 
 In autumn woods when birds have flown, 
 Brings sunlight that both warms and cheers. 
 
 And climbing on my knees so oft 
 
 He lisps, as if he guessed my pain, 
 
 " Don't cry, dear papa '11 come again ;" 
 And checks my tears with fingers soft. 
 
 His father often said to me, 
 
 " Dear wife, when life with me is done, 
 
 This babe our darling little one 
 What comfort he will be to thee!" 
 
 What comfort! when the coffin lid 
 
 Shut out that loved and saintly face 
 
 That gave to life its crowning grace, 
 I only asked that I be hid 
 
 Within the grave's cold bosom too, 
 
 Since earth held nothing for me here. 
 
 My babe's soft voice smote on my ear, 
 In grief's dark sky a rift of blue. 
 
 And though " my days go on and on" 
 
 Beneath the shadow of a tomb, 
 
 He breathes the freshness and the bloom 
 Of joys that are forever gone. 
 
 I tremble lest so rich a boon , 
 
 Should dwell too largely in my love, 
 
 And I forget the things above, 
 And angels claim it all tox> soon. 
 
 Blest Father, if thy will it be 
 
 That thou by stripes my spirit heal, 
 
 Give me some other woe to feel 
 But spare my one sweet babe to me ;
 
 312 THE SPARROW'S VOICE. 
 
 This dove here nestled on my breast, 
 Whose little cares with day were done; 
 So like the dear departed one 
 
 Who left me for the purer rest; 
 
 My little comfort in the way 
 
 That 's grown so strangely dark to me : 
 And I will consecrate to Thee 
 
 My life and all I have and may. 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, March n, 1871. 
 
 The following note was in acknowledgment of a little poem sent 
 by Mrs. Thomson, called "The Sparrow's Voice." 
 
 DELAWARE, OHIO, Jan. 6, 1875. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 I cannot touch your " Sparrow's Voice" without starting tears 
 grateful, loving, soothing tears so sweetly did your little missive 
 minister to a burdened heart. 
 
 I wanted to tell you this long ago, but this is the first opportu- 
 nity. "Little acts of kindness" do not fly about our world "at 
 random sent," but at "the dear Lord's" bidding, who ever " knoweth 
 when one little sparrow falls to the ground." Ah ! yes, yes, well 
 may we " fold our wings wherever we happen to be at twilight, for 
 the Father is always watching !" 
 
 So I took the tiny book and little sparrow's song as coming 
 straight from " the dear Lord caring for me." Many loving thanks 
 to the kind heart through whom He sent it. 
 
 Matt, x., 29. If there is one verse of God's word that has been 
 made more precious than another, more as the guiding star of hope 
 to my life, it is the above.* The sparrow doctrine, as I have 
 always called it I think the blessed Master meant the lowly, feeble, 
 and the not mighty ones, to take such comfort fr*om His words 
 about the sparrows. "Two sold for a farthing;" "all over the 
 world are found." 
 
 * This little poem, " The Sparrow's Voice," was found somewhere by Bishop 
 Thomson, and Mrs. Thomson had it published in tract form. 
 
 Mrs. Platt was very fond of it, and she used to distribute them (the tracts) 
 wherever she thought they would do good.
 
 GIVE ME THE MIND OF CHRIST. 313 
 
 God's intimate knowledge, His loving care how clearly told ! 
 
 In grateful love, 
 
 J. H. P. 
 
 FROM MRS. THOMSON TO MRS. PLATT. 
 
 July 12, 1876. 
 
 MRS. C. PLATT: 
 
 DEAR FRIEND : I have to-day finished reading your most de- 
 lightful book, and, with many grateful thanks, return it. 
 
 I believe that I can truly say I have never before read a book 
 with more intense and delighted interest ; nor one, except the 
 " Book of books," from which I humbly and sincerely trust I have 
 derived more pure, spiritual good. 
 
 What an indescribable charm there is in a beautiful, consecrated 
 life ! There is nothing that I desire in life more ; but oh ! how 
 very, very far I am from possessing it. That four years of wedded 
 happiness ; the charming home-life in Alton ; the death of the 
 beloved husband ; the silent dropping away of nearly every one 
 that she loved on earth ; her prayers, her devotedness ; her perfect 
 trust in, and submission to, her blessed Father's will; and, at last, 
 her own going home to the beautiful beyond ; how inexpressibly 
 touching and beautiful, even wonderful it all is ! I could not read 
 a number of lines for weeping ; and oh ! how many, many prayers 
 I breathed for just such a spirit as hers ; and, last night, in the soli- 
 tude of my own home, I besought God to implant within me the 
 mind of his dear Son, the same that actuated every motive and 
 deed of her life ; and promised that, henceforth, my life, my 
 strength, and whatever talent I may possess, should be devoted 
 more freely to His service. Oh ! that I may have strength given 
 me, divine strength, to enable me to keep this promise ; I so often 
 fail in my good resolutions, and promise of future good, that I am 
 often quite discouraged. I think that I have never needed the 
 lesson that this sweet life-story has taught me more than now. As 
 the "days go on and on," it seems more difficult for me to walk 
 alone, and the end of the road so far away. I had hoped it would 
 be different, but I have never shed more tears of heartfelt loneliness 
 than within the past few months. Each burden seems heavier, and
 
 314 SPIRIT LONGINGS FOR JOY. 
 
 I 
 
 each time more severe ; and I am often -so hungry for the tender, 
 beautiful affection that was mine but four short years. I premise, 
 though, if I had more of the love of Him who is all love and 
 compassion, I might suffer, and yet " learn how sublime a thing it 
 is to suffer and grow strong." Pray for me, dear friend, that His 
 grace may be given me ; and every other gift and grace that may 
 give me, if even but a faint resemblance to her whose memorial I 
 have read with the purest, sweetest pleasure. 
 
 Again, and yet again, I thank you for the pleasure you have 
 given me in this precious book ;* and may you yet witness some of 
 its fruits in my own life. 
 
 Affectionately, 
 
 MRS. A. E. THOMSON. 
 
 DELAWARE, May 30, 1877. 
 MY DEAR MRS. PLATT: 
 
 At last I am glad to return to your possession your most beautiful 
 
 book. I fear you may have needed it. Mrs. B , for whom I 
 
 borrowed it, being a teacher in the Female College, finds but little 
 time for reading; and, as this is a large volume, she was not able 
 to finish it sooner. Hence the delay to return it. She expresses 
 herself as delighted with the story, and desires to possess a copy 
 of her own. 
 
 I trust it may fall with such a blessing on others' lives as it has 
 on mine. Its sweet, pure influence is about me day by day. 
 
 I trust that you are well, and able to drink in the inspiration 
 afforded by these perfect days. 
 
 It is strange, while yet so sweet ; they, too, are saddening. Some 
 one has beautifully said, that these longings, that steal over our 
 spirits in these lovely spring days, are the desires the spirit feels to 
 dwell amid the permament joys of the "beautiful beyond." I 
 believe it. 
 
 Affectionately, 
 
 MRS. ANNE E. THOMSON. 
 
 * " Memorials of a Quiet Life," by Augustus L. C. Hare.
 
 OBITUARY. 315 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " If ye loved me ye would rejoice, because I go to my Father." 
 
 
 
 Obituary Closing days Instruction for burial 1877 Private papers to her 
 husband. 1848. 
 
 THE closing days of Mrs. Platt's life are well described in the 
 obituary notice prepared by a dear and loving friend, from which 
 we make the following extracts : 
 
 The early advantages she enjoyed, both in her home 
 and under such ministries as those of Drs. Bedell and Tyng, were 
 improved by her in a very beautiful culture of both mind and 
 heart ; and the channels of thought, then cut deep, have ever 
 since flowed out with a richness and beauty that have charmed, as 
 well as made better, all with whom she has associated. She held 
 an easy, graceful pen ; and if, with her clear perceptions of truth, 
 and the power of rich and abundant language with which she was 
 endowed, her path had led out into literary fields, she could have writ- 
 ten her name there, too, in no unenvied place. But it was with very 
 marked and rare grace that she turned from all this, to wear even 
 more proudly the crown of wife and motherhood. Her virtues 
 many, like a string of valued pearls worn gracefully through life, 
 have been left to her children undimmed dnd without one tarnish. 
 
 Her sickness was of little more than a week's duration ; at first 
 not regarded serious, but, four days before her death, assuming 
 dangerous symptoms. She seemed to know from the first she 
 would not survive ; but death held in it no alarm for one so ripe 
 for heaven, and she calmly talked of it to her weeping husband 
 and children, as if she were only going a little before to some new 
 home, where she expected soon to welcome them all so gladly once 
 more ; and while her enjoyment of life, with its innocent pleasures,
 
 316 HOME AT LAST. 
 
 was intense, and her attachment to family and friends stronger 
 than words could express, yet so clear and comprehensive were 
 her conceptions of the inexpressible joys and pleasures of life with 
 Christ in the glory beyond, that she was ever ready to go when 
 He should call. This was beautifully evidenced during her later 
 hours, when, with radiant face, she raised up and said, "O, I 
 should so dearly love to stay with you all a little longer, but I am 
 willing to go; I am ready." 
 
 Soon after this her eyes were fixed intently upward for some 
 moments, as if permitted a view of the beautiful and glorious home 
 awaiting her, giving no heed to the question, "What do ypu see, 
 my dear?" There then burst forth from her lips, as if by inspira- 
 tion, " Shekinah ! Shekinah ! Shekinah !" These were her last ; 
 she had no " parting words" of admonition, they were faithfully 
 given all along the path of life. 
 
 This community, with her family, stand to-day bereaved ; and 
 in homes all over our city, where this ministry of her love has been 
 felt in the past, an answering chord of sympathy has been struck, 
 which tells of other hearts that ache, and that will miss in the 
 future the beautiful friendship that was ever fully worthy of a place 
 beside her home-loves. Yes ! sweet friend, we will miss you ; the 
 hand we have just laid down was joined in such a close fellowship 
 of joys and sorrows that the years will seem long in which we will 
 wait for you. 
 
 And thus passed away this beautiful life at eleven o'clock on the 
 morning of Tuesday, August 21, 1877. 
 
 Thursday, 23. 
 
 The body of our precious one was gently laid in the grave by 
 loving hands at that still and quiet hour 
 
 " When shadows lengthen, and the sun 
 
 Is parting from the sky;" 
 there to 
 
 " Rest from labors wrought from dawn lo set of sun, 
 From work that only ended when another was begun," 
 
 and there to await the resurrection in the last day, when it shall 
 come forth a more beautiful a glorified body.
 
 INSTRUCTIONS FOR BURIAL. 317 
 
 The burial services were conducted in accordance with her own 
 wishes, as expressed in a paper written by her several years ago 
 indorsed on the outside " Private paper for my husband concerning 
 burial. JEANETTE PLATT." A copy of it is here given: 
 
 PRIVATE PAPER. 
 
 Sunday, July 25, 1852. 
 
 I have been spared from expected sickness another week. What 
 more does m y soul desire this day but in the holy words, "My 
 soul cleaveth unto the dust; quicken Thou me according to thy 
 word." 
 
 How every moment, even some midnight hours, have been filled 
 with anxiety to set my earthly house in order before my confine- 
 ment, to have every want of my beloved husband and precious 
 children anticipated and supplied. Now, when the Sabbath comes, 
 where is the same peal, where the " lifting up of the head unto the 
 hills" for heavenly aid to set my spiritual house in order! Ah, 
 "my soul cleaveth unto the dust, but quicken thou me, O Lord !" 
 
 In my Daily Food for yesterday was the confession of David's 
 hope, "I said, I will confess my transgression unto the Lord; and 
 Thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin." Here is my hope through 
 Jesus Christ my Lord. 
 
 Rev. vii., 14, 15. This verse for to-day is the one I have often 
 thought I should wish used in mentioning me as "absent from the 
 body." I should wish no honor paid to my perishing body, only 
 in the constant remembrance that soon it shall be made a "glorious 
 body," "like His." I would have every one who loves me re- 
 member that I am absent from the body, present with the Lord. 
 I would wish no funeral hymns sung to speak of the grave and 
 death; but let the life and light of the Glorious Resurrection swell 
 every heart with praise and heavenly hope, as joyful voices in joy- 
 fulness sing 
 
 " Who are these in bright array, 
 This innumerable throng, 
 Round the altar night and day 
 Tuning their triumphant song?" 
 
 Hymn 201.
 
 31 8 HELPED AND COMFORTED. 
 
 MY CHOSEN TEXT. 
 
 " They have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the 
 Lamb. Therefore afe they before the throne of God." Rev. vii., 14, 15. 
 
 I would wish no service of any kind at the house. In silence 
 let my friends meet and bear the body to God's house. Follow 
 the freed spirit. 
 
 J. HULME PLATT. 
 
 This paper was inclosed in another, on which was written as 
 follows: 
 
 May 19, 1873. 
 
 I have opened to-day this "Private paper." Wonderfully has 
 God helped me and comforted me on every side since penning 
 those words nearly twenty-one years ago ! 
 
 I indorse what I then said every word concerning my burial, 
 whenever it shall please God to call me hence. 
 
 "Absent from the body, present with the Lord," I trust through 
 His abounding grace in Jesus Christ our loving Lord. 
 
 JEANETTE H. PLATT. 
 
 I want nothing upon my stone but 
 
 " JEANETTE PLATT, 
 WIFE OF CYRUS PLATT." 
 
 In the summer of 1848, Mrs. Platt placed in my hands a sealed 
 letter, with this inscription written on the envelope : 
 
 "Not to be opened till earth's deepest sorrow rests upon Cyrus 
 or Jeanette. 
 
 SUNNY COTTAGE, DELAWARE, O., 
 May 1 8, 1848." 
 
 It was carefully laid away, and not opened until some weeks after 
 she had entered into rest. It was written three months previous to 
 the birth of her eldest child, and reads as follows:
 
 PRAYER. 319 
 
 " SUNNY COTTAGE," Friday afternoon, May 18, 1848. 
 
 I have opened this package of my letters [probably letters to her 
 husband previous to marriage], and my eye has again, for the first 
 time, glanced upon that written those months ago. Words can 
 never tell the rush of feelings. Before our Father's throne, in that 
 Ear that alone can hearken to the heart's inmost depths, I have 
 poured out my burdened soul Lord, bless us, yet further bless us'; 
 sanctify us, all that we are, all that we shall ever have to Thy own 
 glory ! Spare us to each other this precious gift of mutual, earthly 
 love ; Thy gift, yet more and more binding our souls to Thee. But, 
 Father, not our will, but Thine be done ! Separated at thy call, 
 one to enter into that glory prepared for those who love Thee 
 above ; the other to more glorify Thee below, meekly bearing the 
 cross given by a Saviour's loving hand. God bless that one ! 
 Bless him as I know Thou canst bless the bleeding, broken heart ! 
 He that taketh one can, will uphold the other. Yes, can abun- 
 dantly supply "all need." Oh, how thou hast blessed us ! Sweet- 
 est, deepest, purest wedded love, sanctified by every spiritual bless- 
 ing Thou hast given us, making us one in Thee. Thine we are ; 
 Thine be all we shall ever have ! Our babe unborn Thine before 
 its birth, the workmanship of Thy hand oh, take it to Thyself 
 before I know a mother's love, or give it to me to behold Thy 
 saving love upon it through each of its earthly years. It is, oh 
 make it, wholly Thine. 
 
 JEANETTE PLATT.
 
 320 SYMPATHY. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " That ye may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble." 
 
 Sympathy Consolation Letters from James C., Dr. Merrick, Mrs. La Croix, 
 Dr. Damon, Rev. C. T. W., Bishop Jaggar. 
 
 FROM numerous letters, expressive of sympathy, received after 
 our dear one had entered into rest, the following are selected for 
 their valuable testimony to her true Christian character : 
 
 FROM JAMES CANFIELD. 
 
 LAWRENCE, KAN., Aug. 21, 1877. 
 MY DEAR UNCLE : 
 
 What can I say how can I write? Were I with you I could do 
 no more than let the grasp of the hand and tearful eyes tell their 
 own story of sympathy and affection, of which I know you do not 
 need assurance. And now, eight hundred miles away, with but 
 this poor medium of ink and paper, my pen falters over words 
 that must seem only too formal and cold. 
 
 I feel as though I could never open another telegram. So sud- 
 den so most entirely removed from any thought or dream of 
 mine it came like a flash from a clear sky. Aunt Jennie's fresh- 
 ness and vivacity, her heart-youth, her very loveliness of nature 
 
 and character, which so drew all to her, and which must have been 
 
 
 
 the great comfort and inspiration of your own life in many a trying 
 hour, all these seemed perennial, as though they could never 
 cease to be with us and for us. It seems like the "untimely" end, 
 rather than the gathering in of the ripened sheaf. 
 
 Yet the precious legacy of her life and death ! So pure, so 
 trusting, so faithful, so unselfish ; such continual reliance on Him 
 who alone can now comtort and strengthen you ; such devotion to 
 His service and His truth ; such an earnest striving to follow the
 
 AN IRREPARABLE LOSS. 321 
 
 dear Masfer ; such perfect and childlike faith ; such a quiet resting 
 on His promises ; such unmurmuring submission to His will ; rare, 
 indeed, almost unequalled. The longer I live without her, the 
 more I think of her; the more her whole character grows upon 
 me ; the more does the loss of my own dear mother grow upon 
 me. Can I say more or better than to write how much alike these 
 two dear sisters seem to me, and how keenly this later loss recalls 
 
 the first 
 
 You are constantly in our mind and prayers. We send most 
 sorrowful, yet loving, greetings to you all. May God bless, com- 
 fort, and keep you ; lift up the light of His countenance upon you ; 
 and give you peace, both now and evermore. Amen, (r Thess. 
 iv. 13). 
 
 From one who was a member of our family for a few weeks while 
 attending college. 
 
 August 24, 1877. 
 
 9 
 
 I have just learned of your great bereavement, and hasten to 
 send a line of sympathy, though it amounts to so little in your 
 deep grief. I deeply regret I did not get around to see Mrs. Platt 
 when I was last in town. Meeting so many old students at Com- 
 mencement absorbed what little time I had. 
 
 Every one will bear testimony to the rare charms of person, 
 mind, and heart, which characterized Mrs. Platt. Her spirit was 
 
 like a poem May God bless you, and temper the 
 
 stroke, as He only can. 
 
 Affectionately, 
 
 J. M. DE C . 
 
 FROM DR. AND MRS. MERRICK. 
 
 DELAWARE, August 24, 1877. 
 MR. CYRUS PLATT AND FAMILY : 
 
 VERY DEAR FRIENDS: We hesitate to obtrude ourselves upon 
 your notice at such a time of deep and sacred sorrow, and yet we 
 desire to express our sincere sympathy with you in your irreparable 
 loss. God has taken from you the light of your eyes and the joy 
 of your hearts. But it is the Lord, and shall He not be allowed 
 
 21
 
 322 COMFORT. 
 
 to do what seemeth to Him good ? If earth is less to you hence- 
 forth, heaven will be all the dearer. You have an additional 
 motive to live for that better world. God comfort you in this your 
 great trial, and sanctify it to your highest good. 
 Most sincerely yours, 
 
 F. AND F. S. MERRICK. 
 
 FROM REV. C. T. WOODRUFF. 
 
 NEW YORK, Aug. 30, 1877. 
 MY DEAR MR. PLATT : 
 
 My thoughts and prayers are continually of and for you and 
 your desolate family, for I feel myself a large share in your grief, 
 and mourn for Mrs. Platt as one might do for an only sister. With 
 the exception of my loved wife, no person living could, by departure, 
 cause such a void as she has made. Such a combination of rare 
 excellences I never saw among all my' friends and acquaintances ; 
 *and she realized my ideal of all that human nature is capable of being 
 in the sphere of her life. Seeing and knowing what I did of her, of 
 yourself, of your children, I have often fancied what the joy and love 
 of the family circle must have been, and have longed to look in 
 upon you and enjoy it with you. And now I would fain come to 
 you in your bereavement, and pour into your bleeding hearts some 
 drops of precious consolation. It is comfort that you need, I 
 know ; comfort, that lays her gentle hand upon the quivering 
 chords of the torn heart, and hushes them to peace, taking away 
 the sting of death. Our God is "the God of all comfort;" "a 
 very present help in trouble." He does not keep trouble from us, 
 but He is ever present to help, and therein is abundant comfort. 
 And then it comes to pass that the loss of our loved ones gives us 
 a deeper sense of the value of the Gospel I mean the Gospel as 
 a whole. It is found, at such times, to possess attractions, and 
 to yield consolations which the world cannot offer. When a gloom 
 rests upon all surrounding things, and a sense of want almost op- 
 presses us ; when the house is desolate, though full of friends ; 
 when the life of the house has departed, and darkness hangs over 
 the vacant seat, then the fulness of the Gospel is realized ; then it 
 is seen that the heart, though torn open as by violence, cannot be 
 opened too wide for the grace of God to fill. Then its precious
 
 PRECIOUS GOSPEL PROMISES. 323 
 
 truths break upon our vision with all the freshness and power of a 
 new revelation. It is wonderful how the Gospel adapts itself to all 
 conditions of our life, so that we find something written, as it were, 
 expressly for us, in the very circumstances of the moment. We 
 seem not to know the exceeding richness of the promises till, in 
 the hour of sorrow, they fill us with inexpressible comfort. Take 
 the one sweet promise, that " they who sleep in Jesus, God will 
 bring with Him at the last day;" " and so shall they be ever with 
 the Lord." It assures us that, if we are of that happy number, we 
 and they shall live with each other, and all together with Him. 
 It is God's comfort. His way, among others, of cheering our 
 bruised and sorrowing spirits, of banishing every feeling of sad- 
 ness, and making us joy even in the presence of death in our loved 
 circle ! Blessed be God for comfort ! 
 
 I would not weary you, but hearts are alike, and what has been 
 a source of comfort to me may be such to you, only I cannot say 
 a tithe of what is in my heart. The event has come to us " like a 
 bolt from a clear sky," and we are almost benumbed by it yet. I 
 am, indeed, a mourner with you ; and yet I am comforted, and, 
 as I said, I would fain bring you sweet comfort, so that you shall 
 say, "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be 
 the name of the Lord !" Lift up your heads, dear heart- friends; 
 the loved one has only fallen asleep in Jesus; and, " if she sleep, 
 she shall do well." Let us press on to join her when she wakes, 
 and enter with her into the fulness of heaven's eternal joy. 
 With kindest sympathy and love, truly yours, 
 
 . C. T. WOODRUFF, 
 
 FROM MRS. LACROIX. 
 
 Wednesday, A. M., August, 1877. 
 MR. PL ATT : . 
 
 In her endeavor to console others in affliction, your dear wife 
 sent me this little book* only a few days ago. It accomplished for 
 my heart, in a great measure, that which she hoped it would. 
 Although, on first hearing of her sickness, and then of her death, 
 it pained me to think that I had not acknowledged her kindness 
 
 * "Agnes and the Little Key."
 
 324 A MEMENTO OF COMFORT. 
 
 before it was too late for her to know my appreciation of it ; yet 
 now I am glad to bring to your desolated heart the fact that, among 
 her last acts, was this one of consoling one who was just passing 
 under the rod. 
 
 She has gone to the world of consolation, or, perhaps, it were 
 better said, to the world where they need no consolation ; and this, 
 for the same reason, that they need no light of the sun. I never 
 met her much, but I met her most years ago, around the death- 
 cradle of a poor little brain-suffering babe, in an old upper chamber 
 of the very poor. Both of our hearts were wrung for that little 
 sufferer and for its mother. The three babes, and one of the 
 mothers at least, are safe. I rejoice to think she now has the sweet 
 privilege of solving the mysteries that surrounded her little one 
 gone before. 
 
 This inclosed note of hers to me I had laid away among my 
 mementos of comfort, on laying away our " angel of the house- 
 hold ;" but I feel now that it belongs to you, as perhaps the last 
 words she penned. For a close to this, may I refer you to the last 
 paragraph in her note to me ? It is more valuable for being written 
 with her own hand, to you. We should be comforted, since she 
 has awakened in the likeness that satisfies. 
 
 Yours in sympathy, 
 
 C. A. LACROIX. 
 
 This is the note referred to by Mrs. Lacroix : 
 
 
 
 Wednesday, A. M. 
 DEAR MRS. LACROIX: 
 
 Are not the sacred words true, when " one member suffers, all 
 the members suffer with it" ? So my sympathy has been with you 
 in your present sorjow, very near; for have I not, too, one little 
 babe waiting for me in the arms of Jesus, "the Good Shepherd"? 
 I take the liberty of sending this old book, "Agnes," because 
 its words had great comfort for me once. 
 
 May our covenant-keeping God sustain and comfort you with 
 His own precious comfort. 
 
 In Christian fellowship, Yours, 
 
 J. H. PLATT.
 
 WITHIN THE VEIL. 325 
 
 FROM REV. S. C. DAMON. 
 
 HONOLULU, Sept. 20, 1877. 
 MR. PLATT: 
 
 MY DEEPLY AFFLICTED FRIEND : 
 
 By yesterday's mail we received the two newspapers announcing 
 the most unexpected intelligence of the death of your dearly 
 beloved and highly gifted wife. I hardly know with what words 
 to express my own sympathy and that of Mrs. Damon to you and 
 your deeply afflicted family of sons and daughters. 
 
 The long story of our acquaintance is, as you know, peculiar. 
 It is now just thirty-nine years since I became acquainted with 
 Jeanette and Martha Hulme; and with both of them it was my 
 privilege to carry forward a correspondence almost to the very day 
 of their resting from their earthly toils and labors. Their frequent 
 and choice letters have often gladdened my heart, and cheered 
 me forward amid the duties and cares- of life. They were both to 
 me all that two dear sisters could have been ; and I can hardly 
 realize that both have passed within the veil. 
 
 As your dear wife survived her sister Martha so many years, of 
 course our correspondence has been more recent and fresh ; and 
 yet, in the very last letter, dated only 6th of July last, she alludes 
 to that sister in the most tender manner. You recollect I sent her 
 one of her sister Martha's old letters. She thanked me for that 
 letter of 1833. adding: "How like her own heart this letter! 
 How long it seems since she went away ! O how very much longer 
 than the time until we meet ! When she was called home, what 
 heart-loneliness was mine ! I remember saying to Dr. Tyng, 
 " How can I get on without this sister? I did not know what 
 comfort-sharers in joys and sorrows sunbeams all about my path 
 were growing up at my side. These dear children, these daughters, 
 so much more than sisters could be ! And you and Mrs. Damon 
 are becoming rich in daughters." 
 
 Jeanette and Martha have passed onward and within the veil, 
 and are now enjoying what they anticipated with so much joy for 
 so many years. I shall never repeat, or hear repeated, the old 
 Hebrew word, Shekinah, without having the scene around the 
 dying bed of your sainted wife recalled to mind. She is now in 
 the presence of her and our Saviour.
 
 326 KINDLY REMEMBRANCE. 
 
 
 
 Already the notice cut from the " Standard of the Cross" is 
 inclosed in a letter to my son Frank, to whom your dear wife 
 alluded most tenderly in her last letter. She loved him and he 
 loved her. They understood and sympathized with each other. 
 His last visit to Delaware will long be remembered by him, and I 
 am sure he will be a true mourner, and I shall be disappointed if 
 he does not write you or your daughters, and convey his sentiments 
 in language more choice and tender than mine. 
 
 Your daughters and sons will regard themselves as jointly ad- 
 dressed in this letter, in which Mrs. Damon and Willie join 
 with me. 
 
 Should any more extended notice be ever published relating to 
 your dear companion, I hope you will not fail to send it to my 
 address. 
 
 I want especially to be remembered to your two daughters, whom 
 it was my privilege to accompany down the Delaware River the 
 morning I visited Philadelphia for the last time. My first visit to 
 that city of "Brotherly Love" is associated with Jeanette and 
 Martha in 1839, and my last in 1876, with your two daughters, so 
 much resembling the former, in years long gone past. 
 
 It will always afford me great pleasure to receive letters from 
 you or any of your family. Do not imagine my interest in your 
 family will cease now that the one is removed who formed the 
 centre of attraction, esteem, and love. 
 
 As a mail leaves to-morrow, I have hastened to tender to you 
 and your family my warmest expression of sympathy in this season 
 of your very great affliction. 
 
 FROM BISHOP JAGGAR. 
 
 CINCINNATI, Jan. 8, 1878. 
 MY DEAR MR. PLATT : 
 
 I have had you in mind and heart ever since I learned of your 
 noble wife's departure. The first tidings only reached me in Bos- 
 ton, and surprised me greatly. I tried to see Mrs. Mitchell and 
 failed. Since then, hoping to see you in person, I have delayed 
 writing. But, as I must now defer my visit to Delaware until spring, 
 I cannot forbear writing you, not in formal condolence, but to
 
 ENTERED INTO REST. 327 
 
 
 
 let you know how much I have felt for you, and how much I have 
 thought of your wife's pure face, winning ways, intelligent and 
 sympathetic nature. She was the first to welcome me to Ohio, and,, 
 through her, I received pleasant impressions of my new work and 
 field. Her kind letters I shall keep with special interest. Her last 
 one was full of motherly sympathy, and showed her peculiar intel- 
 ligence. The article in the " Standard" was a true picture of her. 
 I cannot realize that I shall not see her when I go to Delaware. I 
 have but few friends who really enter into, and understand with a 
 personal interest, my trials and perplexities. I always felt that 
 Mrs. Platt was one of the few. 
 
 We know that she has entered into rest. You do not need con- 
 solation from human friends, for you know who can be "touched 
 with the feeling of our infirmities." But I felt that I must testify 
 to you of my own sense of loss, though I have been reluctant to 
 do it by letter, hoping to do it personally. 
 
 I met your daughter in Cincinnati, and had mingled sorrow and 
 joy in seeing her. You must miss her especially now. 
 I am sincerely your friend, 
 
 THOS. A. JAGGAR.
 
 328 JEANETTE AND MARTHA. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " Them that honor me I will honor, saith the Lord." 
 
 Tributes from S. C. D A sister's tribute, poem From Mrs. R., Mrs. E. V. F., 
 E. H. C. Mrs. A. T., a beautiful picture J. H. C., F. W. D., music and 
 poetry Her life a lesson and inspiration From a student Deep sorrow A 
 model wife Ladies' Missionary Society, Mrs. J. H. Platt scholarship H. C. 
 M. E. G. H. S. R. B Reminiscences, strong Christian principle, consid- 
 eration for the aged Original poem. 
 
 TRIBUTES TO THE EXCELLENCES OF MRS. PLATTS 
 CHARACTER. 
 
 THE Rev. S. C. Damon, D. D., of Honolulu, sent this tribute 
 to the memory of Mrs. Platt, and her loving and devoted sister : 
 
 "In paying this tribute to the memory of Mrs. Platt, of Dela- 
 ware, I am naturally led to make a passing allusion to her sisters, 
 but especially to Mrs. Canfield, of Brooklyn. These two sisters, 
 Jeanette and Martha, were nearly of the same age, and pre-emi- 
 nently attached to each other even as sisters. As I recall the Hulme 
 family, as it existed nearly forty years ago in Burlington, New 
 Jersey, these two sisters were most charming ornaments to the 
 Quaker household, in which thee and thou characterized the de- 
 lightful social intercourse, and which, to the young theological 
 student, I confess, had a peculiar .charm and attraction. Jeanette 
 was the older of the two sisters, talented and vivacious, less poet- 
 ical and ideal, but rather more practical ; hence the leading genius 
 in domestic affairs, usually presiding at the tea-table. It was a rare 
 privilege to the comparative stranger to enjoy the society of such 
 a refined, religious, and cultured family. The sisters often re- 
 minded me of the two once dwelling in Bethany, respecting whom 
 the Apostle John records this significant testimony and touching 
 tribute: 'Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister and Lazarus.'
 
 JOY OF OUR HEARTS. 329 
 
 "Thus reflecting upon the lives and accomplishments of these 
 noble women, the saying of Luther does not appear overdrawn or 
 untruthful : ' There is nothing sweeter on earth than the heart of a 
 woman in which piety dwells.' " 
 
 TO JEANETTE, A SISTER'S TRIBUTE, FEBRUARY 25, 1841, 
 
 Thine is no envied lot in princely hall, 
 
 No name of high renown ; 
 No cringing slaves before thy presence fall, 
 
 Nor courtly heads bow down. 
 Yet on thy fair, young brow, doth shine 
 
 A crown more rich, more dazzling bright, 
 Than ever fame's proud hand could twine 
 
 For glorious prince or valiant knight, 
 For hearts, love's priceless gems, are thine ! 
 
 Joy of our hearts ! Light of our happy home ! 
 
 Gladness departs with thee ; . 
 And smiles grow sad when thy gay, laughing tone 
 
 Bids not our sorrows flee. 
 Thy voice, like some sweet, soothing strain, 
 
 From each fond brow doth banish care ; 
 The stricken soul forgets its pain, 
 
 Thy winning words, thy smile to share, 
 Bound with a mighty, magic chain. 
 
 Flower of our household band ! Charm of our hearth ! 
 
 What memories round thee cling 
 Of childhood's sunny hours and careless mirth, 
 
 Untouched by sorrow's sting. 
 Of girlhood's glowing dreams of joy, 
 
 The young heart's deep, unshaken trust, 
 That time's rude hand doth soon destroy, 
 And lay its idols in the dust, 
 
 Dimming each hope with stern alloy. 
 
 Nor these alone a holier tie doth bind 
 
 Our loving hearts to thee; 
 The memory of the dead is linked with thine, 
 
 The early called, the free. 
 Pale watcher ! To thy love was given 
 
 A power to cheer the hours of pain, 
 To point the fainting soul to heaven ; 
 
 The meek, pure spirit to sustain, 
 \Vhile earthly bonds were gently riven.
 
 330 ENVIABLE HAPPINESS. 
 
 Blessings be on thy head, companion dear, 
 
 My cherished one, my own ! 
 Thy smile, thy voice another home may cheer, 
 
 From our sad fireside flown. . 
 Bright be thy hearth, unknown to care, 
 
 True love and peace thy steps attend ! 
 Thy joys a kindred spirit share, 
 
 Till, seeking bliss that cannot end, 
 Ye rise to heaven, and find it there ! 
 
 MARTHA C. HULME. 
 
 FROM A FRIEND, MRS. R., TO HER DAUGHTER, REFERRING 
 TO THE DEATH OF MRS. PLATT. 
 
 WASHINGTON, D. C., August 29, 1877. 
 
 . . . . Words cannot express how heart-broken I am at the 
 sad news your letter brought me. I cannot believe it yet ; I say 
 it over to myself again and again. I go over all my years of friend- 
 ship; how she came like a ministering angel in that dark hour when 
 
 we first heard of M 's death ; how, day after day, in the midst 
 
 of all her cares, she came in to brighten and cheer your father, 
 when he was ill so long. She could do it so easily, so lovingly, 
 in such a Christ-like spirit. What a wonderful, blessed gift it was ! 
 and I am sure many will rise up now, like myself, and call her 
 blessed. "Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." 
 In His*name she always came, and with His name upon her lips. 
 
 Oh, I almost envy her the happiness she now enjoys ! I could 
 have wished that she might have been spared to us longer, and to 
 enjoy her children, now grown ; yet we know no happiness earth 
 can give can compare with that she has entered into in Paradise. 
 These words are often said when a friend dies ; but, in her case, 
 they are peculiarly true. Her memory will always be blessed to 
 me, as her life was. 
 
 FROM MRS. E. V. F. 
 
 5 ARLINGTON COURT, CLEVELAND, Aug. 31, 1877. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 . . For her I know all is joy; but, for myself, it came 
 upon me so unexpectedly that, when I think I cannot see her again ; 
 can never more have those pleasant, helpful, cheery talks that so
 
 GLORIOUS TE DEUMS. 331 
 
 often cheered and refreshed me, I feel as if I c.ould not have it so. 
 She took such a keen interest in everything ; entered so fully, as 
 no one else has ever seemed to, into all one's joys and sorrows. I 
 am constantly thinking of her. When about some household duty 
 I find myself saying, "Mrs. Platt has done with this," etc. etc. 
 When in church I think of her as singing the songs of heaven, 
 joining in the glorious Te Deums of the "blessed." It seems to 
 me no one ever entered heaven before with such a joyous, happy, 
 
 rapturous spirit 
 
 Your feelings, my dear friend, must be so mingled ; in your 
 great love for her you joy with her joy, while tears of anguish and 
 deepest grief fall for yourself and children. How you must miss 
 her ever ready words of comfort, cheer, and counsel; her dear, 
 dear presence ! . . . . Believe me, if our pens have been 
 silent, our hearts have mourned and remembered. I have thought 
 more than once, if we had experienced the loss, how quickly her 
 pen would have dictated precious words of sympathy and conso- 
 lation. 
 
 FROM REV. E. H. C. 
 
 SPRINGFIELD, O., Oct. 20, 1877. 
 
 I have received the very excellent letters you inclosed. What a 
 power of gifts and graces, both natural and bestowed by the Spirit. 
 of her Lord aad Saviour, your precious wife possessed, to win the 
 good to her, and to establish them as enduring friends. 
 
 FROM S. C. DAMON. 
 
 HONOLULU, Sept. 29, 1877. 
 MR. PLATT : 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : By a mail leaving last week I wrote you a 
 hasty letter in reply to the announcement of your dear wife's death. 
 I can hardly realize that she has passed away, and that our delight- 
 ful correspondence of more than thirty years must now close. Her 
 last letter to me was written July 6th, only the month before her 
 death. It was one of her most cheery and characteristic letters. 
 I was about to reply, when I received the papers you so kindly
 
 332 SISTERS IN CHRIST. 
 
 sent. I shall hope to receive letters from you, or your daughters, 
 informing me more particularly about her sickness and death. At 
 least anything published I am confident you will send me. 
 
 As Mrs. Damon and myself have talked over this matter, 
 spoken of the pleasant correspondence which has existed for so 
 many years, and of our visits to Delaware, Mrs. Damon has ad- 
 vanced the idea that an interesting memoir of your wife, or sketch 
 of her life, might be written, if some one could be found who was 
 in sympathy with her, and appreciated her many excellences. 
 
 . I have many of her letters, which, if needed, I would 
 
 gladly return ; or, if not needed for that purpose, I would return 
 
 . them to you and your daughters that is, if you wish them. . . . 
 
 Her letters were always fresh and delightful, pervaded, as they 
 
 were, with so genuine a Christian sentiment. 
 
 Jeanette and Martha Hulme were to me sisters in the purest and 
 best meaning of that term. They were very sisters in Christ (Mark 
 iii., 35) ; and, in all our correspondence, not a line or Word but of 
 the purest and noblest type of Christian fellowship. I have felt the 
 inspiration of their noble Christian friendship. I esteem it a great 
 privilege and blessing of my life to have been permitted for so 
 many years to have corresponded with two such women, and that 
 our correspondence was continued until death caused its cessation. 
 
 We often speak of the great loss sustained by each member of 
 your family. I hardly ever knew a mother who lived so much in 
 her children. 
 
 Remember us most kindly to your sons and daughters. 
 
 FROM MRS. A. THOMSON, acknowledging the receipt of a Portrait of 
 
 Mrs. Platt. 
 
 DEAR MR. PLATT : 
 
 I am again indebted to you for a very great pleasure. I think 
 no face of earthly friend could have come to me bringing such 
 sweet pleasure as did the one that looked out on me that anniver- 
 sary morning. I thank you, and appreciate the beautiful gift that 
 came to me then with such a flow of tender memories and sacred 
 thoughts, memories that travelled quickly back over the twenty- 
 five years of ouf sweet and uninterrupted communing as friends; 
 sacred thoughts, that reached out into the " beyond," as those
 
 PRESENT AND FUTURE BLENDED. 333 
 
 dearly remembered eyes seemed to again speak to me from out the 
 "more excellent glory" into whose inheritance she had already 
 come- 
 Just before sitting down to make this acknowledgment to you, 
 while enjoying another look at this picture, it became quite a study 
 to me. Was it imagination, or is there not something a little re- 
 markable about the shading of that face? A soft and beautiful 
 light, as if from above, seems to be falling upon and bathing the 
 upper and farther side of it ; a light so clear and transparent as 
 even to soften and hallow the lingering shadow of earth that still 
 rests on this side. As she sat for that last picture did the two states, 
 ever so near, sweetly mingle and overlap each other in it ? The 
 bright sheen of the spiritual, so nearly perfected in her then, ming- 
 ling with the last faint shadows of earth, then passing away ; the 
 upper windows of the soul all opening to the light that comes 
 "from afar;" the lower ones closing to the damps and dark of 
 earth ? 
 
 [DELAWARE,] December 3, 1877. 
 
 FROM J. H. CANFIELD. 
 
 LAWRENCE, KAN., April 17, 1878. 
 
 DEAR UNCLE : 
 
 I have wondered if it were possible to write a life of this dear 
 aunt. It seems to me not. Could you write the life of a ray of 
 sunlight, or' a summer's shower, or a fragrance celestial? Would 
 it be possible to detail the hearts gladdened by the one, the droop- 
 ing hopes and withered lives refreshed and revived by the other, 
 or the fainting souls wafted heavenward by the third ? Will utter 
 unselfishness, modest worth, and thoughts for the welfare and hap- 
 piness of others only, leave behind them a record which can be 
 expressed in type? Can the printed page make us feel the kindly 
 grasp of the hand ; or see again the loving, soulful eyes ; or bring 
 to our hours of sorrow the sympathetic heart ; or to our gladsome 
 days the quick, responsive nature ? Can words express that never- 
 failing interest, that all-embracing anxiety and care; that devoted- 
 ness to all but self; that loyalty to friendship; that eager showing
 
 334 A LIFE WRITTEN IN LIVING LETTERS. 
 
 of all good ; that silent bearing of many a burden, which create 
 well-springs of joys in the arid desert of this life ? Can anything but 
 the life itself even faintly shadow forth that complete consecration 
 and childlike faith and confidence which marks one who so pecu- 
 liarly " walks with God" ? 
 
 If no, then you cannot write Aunt Jennie's life, though you 
 may gladden and refresh us with h^r words. But her life is written 
 in living letters in the many hearts which, like mine, thank God 
 for the blessing bestowed on them in her intercourse and love, and 
 which will ever keep her memory green. 
 
 FROM A LETTER FROM F. W. DAMON. 
 
 39 BEHREN STRAUSSE, BERLIN, GERMANY, June 5, 1878. 
 
 MY DEAR MR. PLATT : 
 
 . . . . I shall always feel that, among the most rare and 
 beautiful things of my life, was the friendship which your dear wife 
 showed me in the seasons I was privileged to meet her, and which 
 was continued so pleasantly in our correspondence. I have been 
 enabled to meet many earnest, cultured Christian men and women 
 in many parts of the world, and in many ranks of life, but most 
 truly can I say saying it also thoughtfully and sincerely that 
 never have I met with any one who impressed me more by the 
 sweetness, earnestness, and beauty of their "daily walk and con- 
 versation" than did dear Mrs. Platt. Never have I known a life 
 more infused with the spirit of Christianity, and animated by a 
 sweeter and deeper trust than hers. And I am sure all those who 
 have known her, who have watched her in her daily life, and list- 
 ened to her in her written words, must have been impressed by 
 the delicate, exquisite, poetic spirit, which found utterance and 
 expression in all the experiences of life. I feel peculiarly reminded 
 of this, thinking of the last visit I made at .your home in the fall 
 of 1876. Delicate as her perceptions of the beautiful always seemed 
 to me, there seemed at that time something wonderfully striking in 
 all she said, her words, as well as her face, being luminous with 
 a radiant hopefulness, as if gazing on life, and the mysteries of life ; 
 she saw them all with a clearer vision than was given to those about 
 her ; and, as if beneath the jar and noise and confusion of the present,
 
 BRIGHT HOPEFUL WORDS. 335 
 
 she was listening quietly, restfully, peacefully, to a melody which 
 we could not hear. 
 
 I recall one conversation in particular, in which she seemed 
 desirous of showing me how she had invested the most practical 
 experiences of life with poetry ; how she had found music often- 
 times in seeming discord, and seen the real in the light of the ideal. 
 What a lesson and inspiration her daily life was for us all in this 
 respect ! And then, too, the sympathy, subtle and refined, which 
 she seemed to have with the world of nature about her. I recall, 
 oh so vividly, her 'bright, hopeful words, in reference to the joy 
 and inspiration which, she said, she found in the calm waiting of 
 the leafless trees in winter for the glory of the spring, seeing, in 
 their seeming death and awakening, a symbol of a higher truth, 
 the picture of a higher resurrection. I would fain talk with you 
 of her who was so dear to you and to us all, but it is but poorly 
 that we can put into words the melody of such a life. I shall 
 cherish in coming years the beautiful picture which I have of 
 "Aunt Jennie" as I saw her last. You will remember, perhaps, 
 how beautiful the autumn was ; how radiant everything seemed to 
 be in the outer world ! But, in looking back, all this seems, as it 
 were, a frame for the sweet, earnest, glorified face and life which 
 seemed even then lighted with the coining of the Heavenly Spring- 
 time. 
 
 I long to hear, if it be only in a few words, for you all have so 
 much to do, of your welfare and life. J. I know is married, and 
 I am so truly glad to know that so beautifully and fittingly the 
 comfort and strength of a new joy came to help her in the time of 
 your general sorrow and bereavement. Please remember me most 
 kindly to her, and say for me that I hope to write her very soon, 
 and trust that my congratulations will be welcome, though, in time, 
 they may be a little late. And please, dear Mr. Platt, give my 
 warm and hearty love to all the "cousins." I hope to write M. 
 and H. ; and if in any way I can be of service to you or yours in 
 the coming years, I trust you will grant me the privilege. 
 
 It has given me the greatest pleasure to learn that you were gath- 
 ering together the letters of Mrs. Platt into a memorial volume. 
 Most truly can I echo the sentiment of Dr. Canfield, whicji you 
 copied in your letter to my father. I feel that the world should 
 know something of her rare and beautiful life, and yet how diffi-
 
 336 OUR BEAUTIFUL ISLANDS. 
 
 cult it is to portray it as it was in reality ! I think I have several 
 letters received from Mrs. Platt since I have been in Europe. They 
 are with my trunk in Geneva, Switzerland, which I left there some 
 time since, and which, owing to my rather migratory life of travel 
 during the past year, I have never sent for. As I trust I a.m set- 
 tled for some time in Berlin, I hope to send for it, and will for- 
 ward the letters to you. Though, perhaps, you have now more 
 than enough material for the memorial volume, yet I am sure you 
 would be interested in seeing them. 
 
 As you may have learned from my father, I have been, during 
 the present year, attached to the Hawaiian Legation. Our work, 
 during the past winter, having been the negotiating of a treaty of 
 friendship, commerce, and navigation between our little Hawaiian 
 kingdom and the German empire. I have been enabled to see 
 many instructive things in connection with German life, and the 
 winter has been most delightfully spent. I hope to remain in Ger- 
 many for some time to come. I am pursuing my studies at the 
 University here, one of the first in this land of celebrated schools 
 of learning, in the department of philology and history, hoping 
 ultimately to devote myself to teaching as a professor in some col- 
 lege. I am most delightfully situated, and find many interesting 
 friends, so that I have come to feel very much at home in Ger- 
 many. My health is excellent, and my studies and duties most 
 agreeable. 
 
 From my parents you have, perhaps, heard how, well they are, 
 and how the little grandchildren are fast coming to enlarge our 
 family circle. I trust that it may yet be possible for our family to 
 welcome some member of yours to our beautiful islands, in which 
 you have always taken so kindly an interest, and which are so 
 truly worthy of all the praise they have received. 
 
 Please, in addition to my kind remembrances to the girls, give 
 my most cordial "aloha" to your sons, whom, I trust, I may have 
 the pleasure of again meeting; also to " Cousin N.," her husband, 
 and little ones. 
 
 Trusting that I may have the pleasure of hearing from you, and 
 with most earnest wishes for your health and happiness, 
 ! remain, as ever, dear Mr. Platt, 
 
 Most truly and sincerely yours, 
 
 FRANK WILLIAMS DAMON.
 
 A FRIEND'S LOSS. 337 
 
 From a student in college, who was a frequent guest at her house, and in 
 whom Mrs. Platt became warmly interested. 
 
 August 20, 1878. 
 
 . . How you have survived the stroke I cannot tell ; 
 you whom she loved with a -reverent, holy, profound, and un- 
 wavering love, such as God has permitted few men here on earth 
 to know. But there must have been some mitigation of the pang 
 in the fact that there have been sympathizing hearts to help you 
 bear your sorrow. I have borne mine alone in such solitude and 
 desolation of heart as only One has understood. All the dark 
 events of her death, too, fell on me like a thunderbolt ; one day 
 the tidings of her illness, the next the announcement of her death ! 
 No last words, no farewell message from those sweet lips ! 
 
 Oh, how I needed her ! No one knew what she was to me; and 
 surely no one can know what my loss is now, when I never hear 
 her voice any more, nor see her dear face. I had so many things 
 
 to tell her concerning my stay in B , which I could not write, 
 
 and other little matters that I had copied with pen and ink, think- 
 ing she would like to see them. And when, in my disappointment, 
 
 I came away from B , with my hopes all unrealized, it was the 
 
 thought of seeing her that robbed that parting of much of its pain. 
 But I never saw her again. What I had to tell must remain forever 
 untold ; and the little papers lie in my trunk, I know not where. 
 If I say so little about the memorial volume, I hope you will not 
 misinterpret the reason of my reticence. Her letters to me, to- 
 gether with her precious little relics and mementoes, remain un- 
 touched and unlocked at. 
 
 Though she left no .message for me, I must tell you the one she 
 left for yourself. It is only a few words, but they embrace much. 
 I do not recall her exact expression, but its purport I remember 
 well; we were speaking of you: "After I am gone, W.," said 
 she, "tell him how I loved him !" And if ever there was a woman 
 whose whole existence was merged in that of her husband and 
 children, surely it was she. I cannot describe the quiet, gentle 
 pride, the tender reverence, the deep, unchangeable affection with 
 which she always mentioned your name. I thank God that I ever 
 saw such a wife. Though any language must fail to embody our 
 conception of her character, I wish you would take down from 
 
 22
 
 338 A GRATIFYING TRIBUTE. 
 
 the shelf the volume of Wordsworth I once gave her (the poet she 
 loved so much), and turn to the stanzas in which Wordsworth cele- 
 brated his own wife, beginning, "She was a phantom of delight." 
 Some of the dear "foster-mother's" characteristics are certainly 
 there recorded. 
 
 The Ladies' Missionary Society of St. Peter's Church, Delaware, 
 endqwed a scholarship in Bishop Penick's school in Africa, and 
 paid the gratifying tribute to Mrs. Platt's memory of conferring 
 her name upon it, as explained in the following note from their 
 Secretary : 
 
 DELAWARE, O., April 8, 1879. 
 MR. PLATT : 
 
 Perhaps it would be a gratification to you and your children to 
 have farther information of the circumstances connected with the 
 naming of the scholarship mentioned to you last Snnday. We had 
 sent the amount necessary for a scholarship at Cape Mount, Africa, 
 under Bishop Penick, without remembering at the time that it was 
 customary to name them. 
 
 At our last missionary meeting, when the matter was brought up, 
 the thought of your wife was instantly present in every heart, and, 
 on motion, the name of "Mrs. Jeanette H. Platt" was unanimously 
 chosen. 
 
 A few feeling words were added by Mrs. B. (who was presiding) 
 in memory of Mrs. Platt's active part in the formation of our So- 
 ciety, her unfailing interest in all its doings, and of her having been 
 the only one, thus far, called from our midst, where we still sadly 
 miss her cheery, bright presence, and lovely Christian spirit. 
 
 Sincerely, 
 
 MRS. C. H. MCELROY. 
 
 FROM MRS. DR. McCABE. 
 
 AT HOME, May [25], Sabbath evening, 1879. 
 MR. PLATT: 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : I really hoped I had kept Mrs. Platt's little 
 notes, but I deeply regret that I find only these.* Hope, when 
 
 * See letters from Mrs. P. to Mrs. McC., in preceding chapters.
 
 COMING LIGHT. 339 
 
 I have leisure, I may find others. She usually wrote when any- 
 thing of interest occurred in which we might both participate, a 
 pleasant, little neighborly act, which I always very greatly appre- 
 ciated. It has not, for some years, been my habit to preserve let- 
 ters, even unusual ones, my time has been so short, and my duties 
 so numerous. All such, I have persuaded myself, entered into the 
 building of my soul as a precious stone at the time, and scarcely 
 needed, therefore, to be retained. Such were hers, always em- 
 bodying some useful or beautiful sentiment, a moral to refresh 
 a fellow-traveller by the way, served with dainty grace and good 
 cheer. 
 
 I remember quite a number of the last year of her life; a little 
 longer, and more detailed than before, regarding herself and 
 friends; not without sorrow, but still cheery with the surely com- 
 ing light. It is one of my luxuries to imagine, sometimes for a 
 moment, listening to what she may say in the interesting future, 
 when I shall be there to hear. 
 
 FROM MR. E. G. H., TO MR. PLATT. 
 
 HULMEVILLE, PA., May 19, 1879. 
 
 The life of our dear cousin is too precious to be allowed to fade 
 from the memory of those of our family, who only knew her through 
 our conversations, and did not know her personally. T9 us, who 
 knew her personally, her memory will never fade. You can see, by 
 these letters, why she was so precious to us. She, by her conversa- 
 tion, her letters,* and her devoted Christian life, brought practical 
 religion into our family, and was continually promoting a spiritual 
 growth of grace among us. I feel that I cannot fully express my 
 gratitude to God that she was permitted to become one almost of 
 our own household. .It was she who first made me realize a Saviour's 
 love, and caused me to daily pray, "Lord, what wilt Thou have 
 me to do?" 
 
 * Refers to letters of Mrs. Platt returned.
 
 340 NOT A DOUBTFUL RELIGION. 
 
 This beautiful tribute to the memory of Mrs. Platt and her sister, 
 Mrs. Canfield, is by one to whom they were familiarly known in 
 girlhood days, a devout Methodist. 
 
 ASBURY PARK, N. J., Sept. 9, 1880. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND: 
 
 . . . . Memory does for us many precious services. It 
 summons persons and experiences to inspire strength to our faith, 
 motive to duty, and purpose in its pursuit. It was among the 
 blessings of my youth to know and appreciate the domestic and 
 Christian character of your excellent wife. Her wit was the 
 diamond-sparkle of soul and sunshine; it never bore a trace of 
 sarcastic severity, as is too often the case with those thus gifted. 
 It was ever on the surface of her good nature; and, under the halo 
 of its rippling, radiant waves, the household was held in joyous 
 consciousness of her presence. To say she was its brightness 
 expresses only a meagre moiety of the truth 
 
 Her religion was not the decision of an hour, or the emotion of 
 a moment; it was the movement of the soul to a life-long service. 
 Among her young companions it wore no doubtful aspect. She 
 was known as a Christian who, in accordance with her solemn 
 baptismal vows, renounced "the pomp and vanities of the world;" 
 and did in verity find her happiness, not in worldly amusements, 
 but in the service of Christ. Her younger sister, Martha, who 
 experienced this change of heart and purpose long before her, at 
 the very early age of eight years, was accustomed to associate her 
 little companions in meetings in an upper room, where she read 
 and talked to them of Jesus and His love, and knelt and prayed 
 with them, was in deepest sympathy with her eldest sister at this 
 critical period. She was trained, in her youthful, Christian expe- 
 rience, by that man of God, to whom so many thousands are 
 immediately or instrumentally indebted, Rev. G. T. Bedell, then 
 Rector of St. Andrew's Church, Philadelphia, where the power of 
 his efficient ministry is felt to this day 
 
 I recall, with great pleasure, the visits of these young ladies to 
 my childhood's home, at Gloucester Furnace, New Jersey; their 
 help in the Sunday-school, and in our prayer and temperance 
 meetings in the school-house, where my father's workmen assem-
 
 A RICH INHERITANCE. 341 
 
 bled for teaching and worship ; all are held in grateful remem- 
 brance. It was our custom, at the close of these summer inter- 
 views, to go to this school-room (sacred to us because of our 
 childhood efforts there to work for Jesus) and sing, ere we separated, 
 
 " Blest be the tie that binds 
 Our hearts in Christian love." 
 
 God accepted these services, honestly, though timidly offered, 
 and we had our reward. These, and all the later efforts in our 
 Christian work, are rolled up, the record is sealed, and, to these 
 precious friends of my youth, "it is eternal day." 
 
 S. R. B. 
 
 REMINISCENCES. 
 
 Memory recalls many incidents manifesting her interest in the 
 spiritual development of her husband's character, as well as the 
 strength and support she was to him. When their own household 
 was first set up, she suggested the Christian duty of commencing 
 with family worship, and overcame his timidity by her strong faith. 
 
 Not unfrequently, when at his place of business, and oppressed 
 with cares and anxieties, a sealed envelope would be placed in his 
 hands by a messenger, which, on opening, would prove to be a 
 loving : cheery note from his wife, with a selection of choice Scrip- 
 ture promises, exactly suited to the occasion. She seemed gifted 
 with a spirit of divining and ministering to his wants. No richer 
 inheritance could descend upon the daughters of our country than 
 this faculty of ministering to the spiritual needs of their husbands 
 or brothers. 
 
 A beautiful trait in Mrs. Platt's character was her love for, and 
 heartfelt interest in, old people, those who had " gained the 
 hill-top, and were facing life's sunset." She seemed to have a 
 special mission to them, which it gave her great delight to fill, 
 either by the bright, cheery visit and loving words that were so 
 natural to her, or by the kindly written letter. Often it would be 
 the well-filled plate of Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, carried 
 by her own hands to some poor neighbor, in ministering to whom 
 she took as much real pleasure as in the social enjoyments of life.
 
 342 ORIGINAL POEM. 
 
 An aged colored woman, yet living, was often the thankful re- 
 cipient of these favors. 
 
 So quietly were these little deeds of kindness done that very often 
 her own family knew nothing of them until she would be missed, 
 and the inquiry made, "Where is mother?" The answer revealed 
 an errand of mercy to some needy or dependent neighbor. 
 
 Pages could be filled with the recital of these missions, illustrat- 
 ing her characteristic unselfishness. 
 
 " To bestow attentions upon the aged of the neighborhood, is it 
 not a special Christian duty too little thought of? Without needing 
 the attention given the sick, their infirmities exclude them from the 
 places and pursuits which once claimed and interested them. They 
 sit alone in the midst of a younger generation, necessarily more or 
 less desolate in the happiest homes." 
 
 ORIGINAL POEM TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. PLATT. 
 Contributed by one who knew her intimately. 
 
 These verses, though no worth they claim 
 Such as befits the poet's art, 
 I write with reverent hand and heart, 
 
 And consecrate them to her name ; 
 
 Yet cannot rest my faith in song, 
 
 But tremble, lest my words should prove 
 But hollow echoes of our love, 
 
 And thus should do her memory wrong. 
 
 I wandering, too, amid the eclipse 
 
 Where Death has passed, am lost to speech; 
 A hand seems evermore to reach 
 
 From out the dark to seal my lips. 
 
 The world is changed and backward borne, 
 Now she is gone who wrought our dream, 
 And shed upon our paths the gleam 
 
 And freshness of perpetual morn. 
 
 But is she gone? Is not this pain 
 That baffles tongue to be defined 
 But some distemper in the mind, 
 Delusion of a clouded brain?
 
 A VITAL PRESENCE. 343 
 
 .We pause, and turn, and mutely gaze, 
 
 To see her glide before our view 
 
 In light and music to renew 
 The ministries of other days. 
 
 But vain the dear-sought evidence ! 
 
 Immutable is the decree : 
 
 She ne'er shall manifested be 
 To these dim instruments of sense ; 
 
 And rushing with impetuous roll 
 
 The tides of grief their barriers mock, 
 
 And with one wild, tumultuous shock, 
 Break up the fountains of the soul. 
 
 Oh, Thou to whom we lift our prayer, 
 
 Give us resigned this cup to drink, 
 
 Nor let our sacred sorrow sink 
 Into the gloom of chill despair. 
 
 But that we upward may be led 
 
 To win bereavement's destined gains 
 
 Believing that Thy love ordains 
 The holy mission of the dead, 
 
 Let Thou the influence that survives 
 
 Of her white-souled existence here 
 Flow on a vital presence clear, 
 
 Around, beneath, and through our lives ; 
 
 That she may still with us abide 
 
 In spirit, as the years proceed, 
 
 Commingling in our thought and deed, 
 And walking ever by our side, 
 
 The radiant source of self-same powers, 
 
 And gentle attributes divine, 
 That, hallowed as the gifts of Thine, 
 
 Celestialized this earth of ours.
 
 344 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 THE. talent for ready writing in the Hulme family was not limited 
 to the two sisters Jennette and Martha. Their brother John excelled 
 in the power of graphic description. He made no pretensions to 
 any merit in this direction, but several of his articles were published 
 in New York, Philadelphia, and Burlington papers, and were favor- 
 ably received. He wrote one entitled "The Old Parish Church," 
 which was published first in the " New York Church Journal" in 
 1863 and copied by others. 
 
 In a letter Mrs. Platt wrote to him she says of this story, " I do 
 not know which I like best, your picture or ' The Old Parish 
 Church.' Never try another story never you cannot equal this 
 if you try again ever so much. I think it one of the prettiest things 
 we ever wrote that is, any of the family ever wrote. I have a 
 wonderful pride in it, consider it a kind of family, not personal 
 affair as if not at all your own genius, but only the family inspira- 
 tion that happened to light upon you at that time ! Please never 
 try again. ' The Old Parish Church'* will do for reputation made 
 now. But I do not feel one of its faults if it had a thousand. 
 Head, heart, and eyes are completely blinded by the old memories 
 called up from the buried past as I read it." 
 
 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 
 
 In a pleasant rural city, situated on the banks of the noble Del- 
 aware, and on a broad and beautiful street, stands the Old Parish 
 Church. It is one of the oldest in the Diocese, and owes its foun- 
 dation and nursing care to the "Venerable Society for Propagating 
 the Gospel in Foreign Parts." The corner-stone of this old church 
 
 * Old St. Mary's, Burlington, N. J., of which the Rev. Dr. Wharton was the 
 " Old Rector."
 
 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 345 
 
 was laid on the 25th of March, 1703, the feast of the Annunciation, 
 by that godly and zealous missionary of the Church of England, 
 the Rev. John Talbot. The first sermon in it was preached on 
 Whitsunday, 1703, by the Rev. Mr. Keith, another devoted mis- 
 sionary from the same Venerable Society. Mr. Talbot was its 
 faithful minister from 1702 till 1724. He reports daily Morning 
 and Evening Prayer, with preaching every Sunday morning, and 
 catechizing in the afternoon. Several other ministers succeeded 
 Mr. Talbot, among whom were Messrs. Heath and Odel, till 1795, 
 when the " Old Rector" (who preceded the late and last Rector) 
 was called by the vestry to the rectorship. He was only required 
 to give one service on Sunday morning, but generally the church 
 was open for evening service on Sunday afternoon. On July 4, 
 1797, an oration was delivered in the church by the Hon. William 
 
 G , at which the Jersey Blues attended, commanded by Capt. 
 
 Mel . A stage was erected over the chancel rails, on which 
 
 the orator stood, while behind .him a man held aloft our glorious 
 flag, which he waved over the orator's head during the whole 
 speech. In 1799 there was a funeral procession to the old church, 
 where an eulogy was delivered on the death of Washington by 
 
 the Hon. William G . The church (with governor's pew) 
 
 was draped in mourning, and the choir performed an anthem called 
 the " Dying Christian," our igist hymn. In 1814 (in the evening) 
 a Thanksgiving service was held in honor of the declaration of 
 peace. The church was crowded to suffocation. The governor's 
 pew was a large, square pew, in the centre of the church, sur- 
 mounted by a canopy. The massive silver communion service was. 
 a royal gift of England's good Queen Anne ; and the rich crimson 
 damask hangings for the pulpit, reading-desk, and communion- 
 table, the gift of the lady of Governor Franklin, England's last 
 colonial governor. 
 
 The old church (as I first remember it) stood parallel with Broad 
 street, with the chancel at the east end, and only one door at the 
 west end, opening to the one long narrow aisle, on each side of 
 which were the old-fashioned, high-backed pews. There was a 
 narrow gallery at the west end over the door, in the centre of 
 which, and projecting from the wall, in the form of a half circle, 
 was the organ gallery, inclosing the small, but sweet-toned organ; 
 and on each side of the organ were pews and seats for the Sunday-
 
 34^ THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 
 
 school. The open belfry, containing the honored old bell, was 
 then on the west end of the church ; and often have I stood, on a 
 calm Sunday morning, looking up to it, as it swung to and fro, 
 giving forth its solemn invitation to all the inhabitants: "This is 
 the day the Lord hath made, prepare ye to come up to worship in 
 His holy temple." For generations has the old bell sounded forth, 
 and for generations it was the only bell. How applicable to it is 
 the song of the " Old Church Bell" : 
 
 " For full five hundred years I've swung 
 
 In my old gray turret high, 
 And many a different theme I've sung, 
 
 As the time went stealing by ! 
 I've pealed the chant of a wedding morn, 
 
 Ere night I have sadly tolled, 
 To say that the bride was coming, love-lorn, 
 To sleep in the churchyard mould ! 
 
 Ding, dong ! my ceaseless song ! 
 
 Merry and sad, but never long." 
 
 In the old rector's time there was no announcement of the ser- 
 vices, but the bell regulated them ; for instance, if the bell did not 
 ring at eight o'clock in the morning of Sunday, there was no ser- 
 vice. If it did not ring while the people were leaving the church 
 after morning service, there was no evening service. The bell, in 
 those days, could be heard not only over the town, but at the dis- 
 tance of four miles in the country. In the winter the church was 
 warmed by two old-fashioned ten-plate stoves for wood, one at 
 each end of the building, with the pipe protruding through the 
 window, and from which, early on Sunday morning, dense vol- 
 umes of smoke might be seen issuing. At the time of the tolling, 
 or "the people's bell," as it was called, at twenty minutes past 
 ten, the old sexton might be seen hurrying to and from the stove 
 to the pews, with little square boxes, pierced on the top with small 
 holes, and which contained in a vessel inside hot ashes and coals 
 to warm the feet of dainty ladies. Then he ascends to the gallery, 
 takes hold of the bell-rope, and fixes his eyes upon the rectory, 
 which is in view from either of the large, old-fashioned windows in 
 the gallery. At this time the lady organist perches herself upon 
 the high musical stool, the boy is at the bellows handle, and all 
 await the old rector. And soon the venerable-looking man ap-
 
 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 347 
 
 peared ; short in stature, with a firmly-knit frame, his small, well- 
 turned head, thinly covered by his silvered locks, with a pleasant 
 and genial face, and a smile which spoke only love to all. He is 
 first seen issuing from the rectory, and approaching the church 
 with his peculiar, quick, short step. Just when he is opposite the 
 old academy (upon whose site now stands the new cathedral) the 
 Sunday-school children come rushing forth, and the sexton begins 
 the last, or minister's bell. The old rector has a smile for each 
 of the teachers, puts his hand upon the head, and blesses all the 
 children within reach ; but on the boys and girls go, rushing up 
 the one narrow, uncarpeted gallery stairs with great noise, and 
 barely time to be seated and quiet before the old rector arrives at 
 the door. Then the bell ceases, the little organ pours forth its 
 sweet notes in the opening voluntary, and the sexton descends to 
 follow the rector down the narrow aisle, who goes shuffling along 
 from one side of the aisle to the other, stumbling against the half- 
 open pew doors, bowing to every one whose eye he could catch, 
 and always ending with a low bow to the family of the late Senator 
 W. , who occupied the large, square pew at the point where he 
 turned to enter the chancel. 
 
 But what a singular interruption to the progress of the rector 
 down the aisle took place on one Sunday ! There was good Mrs. 
 Captain R. (long since in Paradise), whose little dog, named 
 "Count," was very fond of going to church, and always would 
 go, if not watched closely and shut up. On the day mentioned 
 the dog followed his mistress unperceived, went in, and lay down 
 by the door of the pew, where he was much more quiet than some 
 people in church. Unfortunately for this quiet, as the old rector 
 passed down the aisle, he stumbled against the partly opened pew 
 door, when instantly the dog, thinking his mistress's domain in- 
 vaded, flew out, and catching the rector by the skirt of his gown, 
 bit and barked most furiously. The old rector was terribly fright- 
 ened at being thus assailed by an infidel dog in the holy temple, 
 and cried out most lustily, "Get out, get out." The dog snapped 
 and yelled, and in the midst of the din the sexton came to the rec- 
 tor's relief, and the dog was taken out of the church, while, all 
 unconscious of the confusion below, the organ was pouring forth 
 its sweet voluntary, and the scene was entirely too much for the 
 risibles of many of the congregation, whose heads were bowed 
 low behind their high-backed pews.
 
 348 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 
 
 The old rector was once a priest of apostate Rome, but becoming 
 enlightened, and the scales having fallen from his eyes, he came 
 into the holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, and was admitted to 
 the diaconate by that great patriarch of the American Church, 
 Bishop White. I can remember how the old rector kept Good 
 Friday. On that solemn day pulpit, reading-desk, and commu- 
 nion-table, stripped of their rich crimson covering, stood forth 
 naked and bare, and the congregation wore black clothing. 
 
 On Christmas eve, in the old rector's time, the bell would ring 
 forth at ten o'clock, and would be rung at intervals all night long, 
 the parishioners sending to the vestry-room cider, apples, doughnuts, 
 and mince pies, to refresh the ringers. On Christmas day the old 
 rector had both morning and evening service; and, as it was the 
 only occasion when the church was open at night throughout the 
 year, it was usually crowded. The old church was always dressed 
 for Christmas, and the manner of dressing it was this : the sexton 
 having bored holes in the tops of the pews, about two feet apart, 
 would insert first a branch of laurel, then of spruce, and then of 
 box, and the congregation might be said to be sitting in and sur- 
 rounded by a miniature forest. Wreaths of ground or running 
 pine were festooned over the hangings of the pulpit and reading- 
 desk, and a wreath twined around the chancel rails. Then the 
 two beautiful chandeliers of cut-glass, with pendent drops, which 
 excited my warmest admiration when lighted, were also dressed 
 with wreaths of running pine ; they contained a double row of wax 
 candles, which shed a rich, mellow light on all around. There 
 were branches with wax candles on the pulpit and reading-desk, 
 and in addition to these, in the back of every alternate pew, the 
 sexton stuck a little tin candlestick, into which he put a tallow 
 candle. These were greatly in the way ; and I remember a lady 
 who, in tossing her head about during service, managed to get her 
 feathers in a blaze, which was quickly extinguished, however, by 
 a gentleman sitting behind her. 
 
 The last time the old rector preached on Christmas night the 
 church was crowded, and. for the first time our exulting 46th hymn 
 was sung. From a child music had great charms for me, and I 
 can drink in the sweet sounds of any instrument with delight, 
 though the great and grand organ moves me most. I remember 
 a\ this time the beautiful, lively prelude, and when the choir broke
 
 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 349 
 
 forth in the chorus, "Shout the glad tidings, exultingly sing," I 
 thought I had never heard anything so beautiful. Years afterwards, 
 when I listened to the sweet birdlike notes of the " Swedish Night- 
 ingale," as she poured forth her soul in that sublime passage of 
 the " Messiah," "I know that my Redeemer liveth," I feel I could 
 not have enjoyed it more than when, with childlike simplicity, I 
 listened to this exulting hymn. By the time the choir had sung the 
 first verse, and had reached the second time the joyful chorus, 
 almost every one had turned to gaze up into the organ-loft, and 
 so continued until the hymn was finished. 
 
 Of all who composed the choir on that Christmas night, but one 
 remains on earth. The churchyard contains the sleeping dust of 
 all the others. 
 
 I well remember the remark of one, a stranger, who was present : 
 " Did you notice the countenance of Maria C., as she sang? She 
 looked as if she felt every word. With what a joyful expression her 
 face was lit up !" Most true, she did feel; and most exultingly did 
 she pour forth her sweet voice in praise of her adorable Redeemer.' 
 Like Dorcas, she was known for her good works of love and charity. 
 At the head of the Sunday-school, Dorcas Society, and as tract 
 distributor, she labored with untiring zeal and energy; but soon 
 she was missed from all her works of love, and her sweet voice 
 was no longer heard in the choir. A painful disease had seized 
 her, and, after month's of suffering, she fell asleep in Jesus. A 
 plain, white marble slab, still to be seen in the old churchyard, in 
 these few words describes her whole life : " She walked with God, 
 and was not." 
 
 And there, too, was Mrs. Fannie Mel. ; her joyous, pleasant 
 face is still before me, lighted up with evident pleasure as old 
 women came to her in the Sunday-school to be taught to read 
 the Holy Scriptures. For a time she was the organist, and with 
 what a master-hand she touched the keys of the sweet instrument ! 
 The first time I heard " Cantate Domino" it was played by her, 
 and I well recollect her full, clear voice in the piano passage, 
 "Praise the Lord upon the harp; sing to the harp in a psalm of 
 thanksgiving." But soon the aged women missed her in the Sun- 
 day-school, the organ was mute, and silent was her voice, for she 
 had winged her way to Paradise, there to touch a golden harp in 
 united praise with the redeemed in the grand hallelujah chorus for-
 
 350 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 
 
 ever and forever more. On a beautiful spring morning I saw her 
 coffin placed before the chancel in the old parish church. Another 
 presided at the organ, and the 1251!} hymn was sung, "When those 
 we love are snatched away." The whole hymn was sung as a solo 
 by Miss W., daughter of the late Senator W. ; and as her rich, 
 sweet voice broke forth, now rising, now falling in the solemn air 
 of good old "Revelation," there was not a dry eye among all those 
 who had come to pay the last tribute of affection to one they loved 
 and mourned. 
 
 I would yet mention one among the few who are left of the 
 members of the old parish church, dear Aunt P. She is every- 
 body's Aunt P., and all who know her love her. Not a child 
 who visits her brown-stained, time-worn house, but receives from 
 her a smile and kind word, and they are never sent empty away. 
 She never turns her face " from any poor man." If Aunt P. has 
 nothing beside, a cup of cold water is given in His name. I 
 could fill pages with the stories of Christmas-tide she has told me 
 in that same dear old brown house, but time would fail me. Aunt 
 P. prides herself upon being a Low Churchwoman, and is terribly 
 afraid of what she calls High Churchism and Puseyism, but I well 
 know there is no one that loves the Church at heart more truly 
 than Aunt P. Many are the changes and chances of this mortal 
 life through which she has passed. In her younger days she was 
 careless and inattentive to the things that make for her peace, but 
 there came a time when she longed for something better and more 
 lasting than this world can give. Then, as she had never entered 
 into the spirit of the sublime liturgy of the Church of her fathers, 
 she conceived the idea that it was formal and spiritless, and the 
 old rector's sermons cold and dull, and she must stray into strange 
 pastures, to be fed by strange shepherds ; but this was only for a 
 short time, for she never felt at home there, or quite right about 
 the matter. She also thought she had dressed too gay, and there 
 would be a merit in dressing a little plainer. One Sunday morning 
 she left home with a heavy heart, undecided whether she would go 
 to church or stray again into strange pastures. Just as she reached 
 the corner of the street where she must determine, the old bell 
 began to toll. Every stroke of the bell pierced to the heart, for 
 it seemed to say, " Come, come ; this is the way your fathers trod : 
 come, come." Instantly she turned and took her way up to the
 
 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 351 
 
 old church. The old rector began the service, and in the first 
 words he uttered Aunt P. saw there was no merit in dress, or in 
 any works of her own : " Rend your heart, and not your garments, 
 and turn unto the Lord your God ; for He is gracious and merci- 
 ful, slow in anger, and of great kindness." Aunt P.'s tall form is 
 bowed a little ; she is beginning to see as through a glass darkly, 
 and the next moment she is upon her knees, joining in the "Gen- 
 eral Confession" with heart and soul, as she had never done be- 
 fore. The old rector proceeds with the service, and Aunt P. per- 
 ceives new beauty in the Gloria in Excelsis : "O Lord, the only 
 begotten Son, Jesus Christ ; O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of 
 the Father, that takest away the sins of the world, have mercy 
 upon us." She feels these most comfortable words the Church 
 has given to her sinful, penitent children, arid tears are falling. 
 Still the service goes on, and, when the inimitable Litany is reached, 
 Aunt P. is on her knees again. "O God, the Father of,Heaven;" 
 "O God, the Son;" "O God, the Holy Ghost;" "O holy, 
 blessed, and glorious Trinity, have mercy upon us, miserable sin- 
 ners." Lower and lower bows the head, and tears are flowing 
 fast, and still the Litany proceeds : "Remember not, Lord, our 
 offences ; neither take thou vengeance of our sins. By Thine 
 agony and bloody sweat; by Thy cross and passion; by Thy pre- 
 cious death and burial, good Lord, deliver us." And now, as with 
 a live coal from the altar, Aunt P.'s heart is melted and broken. 
 With streaming eyes she looked upward, and with faith beheld the 
 cross and Him who hung thereupon, not only for her sins, but for 
 the sins of the whole world, and now she found peace in believing. 
 Never again did she wish to roam from the old parish church. 
 Never again did she want to forsake "the Church of the Living 
 God, the pillar and ground of the Truth." How often have I 
 seen her (as the late and last rector pointed his hearers to the cross, 
 and to the cross alone, for safety and refuge) looking upwards as 
 with the eye of faith, to Him who sitteth at the right hand of God, 
 and seeming to say, "In my hand no price I bring, simply to Thy 
 cross I cling." Dear Aunt P. is fast verging to the age of fourscore 
 years, yet is still able to walk two miles to worship in the holy 
 temple, and to "render thanks for the great benefits received at 
 His hands." Long may she be spared ! Many will miss her, and 
 one most, when she is taken to her glorious rest.
 
 352 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 
 
 The old parish church once possessed a clerk, an excellent man, 
 and there may be some who will remember in the Te Deum his 
 loud response, "Vouchsafe, O Lord, to keep us this day without 
 sin." He was a singer also, and sat in the choir. One morning, 
 while the Litany was being said, and just where it changes from 
 deprecation to supplication, he happened to cast his eye upon his 
 note-book "We sinners do beseech Thee to hear us, O Lord 
 God ; and that it may please Thee to rule and govern Thy holy 
 Church universal in the right way." The congregation were quite 
 startled and electrified by the old man's loud and sonorous "Good 
 Lord, .deliver us." The old rector was becoming more and more 
 aged, at the time of which I speak, and, his memory failing, it was 
 thought best to let the clerk give out the psalms and hymns. 
 Before this change was made, many little lively conversations took 
 place across the church between the rector and the clerk. The 
 rector would announce the psalm he had intended, but when he 
 came to order the hymn, he would again give out the same psalm 
 or the wrong hymn. A short pause would occur, and then the 
 clerk would call across the church, " It was the i2pth hymn, sir." 
 The old rector, peering through his spectacles again at the paper, 
 called back to the clerk, "Ah, I see! you're right, sir you're 
 right!" At these times the old-fashioned high-backed pews an- 
 swered a good purpose for all those whose risibles were easily 
 affected. 
 
 But on one Sunday morning the scene exceeded all that had 
 gone before. Every one knows that organs in country towns 
 especially will get out of order. On this morning the choir found 
 the organ in a terrible condition, for one of the largest bass pipes 
 would go, and bass it was all the time, the instant there was any 
 wind in the bellows. The choir got along as well as they could, 
 but the bellows-blower was a mischievous boy, and all this trouble 
 was fine fun for him, so he took care to have the organ full of wind 
 after the Gloria Patri was finished. When the old rector stood up 
 to announce his text, the bass pipe continued to sound with a great 
 noise. He cleared his throat and tried to begin ; but all in vain ; 
 still the organ kept on. At last, becoming a little impatient, he 
 raised his voice and called to the clerk, "Can't that organ be 
 stopped?" when the clerk instantly responded, "No, not till the 
 wind is out of the bellows." This was too much for the risibles
 
 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 353 
 
 even of the most devout, and again the high-backed pews were 
 a convenient refuge. Of course, after a time the wind did get out 
 of the bellows, the refractory pipe ceased roaring, and the rector 
 went on with his sermon. 
 
 The Communion in his time was administered four times in a 
 year, and the Ante- Communion Service was only read at these 
 times. On one Sunday, Bishop J , of Connecticut, was pres- 
 ent, and sitting in a pew, when, observing that the old rector was 
 about to omit this portion, he rushed from the pew, went inside 
 the chancel, and began the service, to the surprise of every one. 
 
 I used to sit and wonder (when a youth) if it were possible for any 
 one to be as good as a certain monument portrayed the wife of the 
 Rev. , of South Carolina. Some people have called it hea- 
 thenish. After enumerating her virtues in minute detail, the in- 
 scription ends with these lines : 
 
 Fair, modest, wise, discreet, true, generous, kind, 
 Pure, virtuous, humble, pious, meek, resigned, 
 To Earth by Fate, by Faith to Heaven allied, 
 She lived to bless, but to be blest she died." 
 
 The old rector grew more and more feeble and forgetful, and 
 many touching scenes occurred before he went hence and was 
 seen no more of men. On one occasion he attempted to admin- 
 ister the Communion, but, feeling very unwell, forgot himself in 
 the middle of the service. Afte"r saying the prayer, "We do not 
 presume to come to this Thy table," there was a long pause, and 
 finding he did not proceed with the service, one by one of that 
 little flock arose from their knees, and there discovered the dear 
 old man standing beckoning for them to come forward, and hold- 
 ing in 'his hand the paten, with the yet unconsecrated bread, of 
 which he had not himself partaken. Every one of the faithful few 
 was melted into tears; but fortunately another clergyman was pres- 
 ent, who instantly rose, left his pew and entered the chancel, took 
 the old man by the hand, led him to a seat, and then went on 
 with the service. At another time he was reading the Second Les- 
 son, when, just as he had uttered the touching passage, "Fear not, 
 little flock ; it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the king- 
 dom," he instantly fell back in a deathly swoon. The congrega- 
 tion at once rose from their seats, and two or three gentlemen 
 rushed into the chancel, lifted the old rector up, and carried him 
 
 23
 
 354 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 
 
 into the little vestry-room back of the pulpit. Everybody was in 
 tears, when the senior warden, the Hon. William C., arose and 
 said in a broken voice, "I would proceed with the service, but 
 my feelings are so acute it will be impossible. The congregation 
 had better retire." After a time the old rector revived from his 
 fainting fit, and was led home by the wardens. As they left the 
 church some of the Sunday-school children gathered round the 
 door, and, as they looked upon the old minister, broke forth into 
 loud crying, " O, we shall never see dear Mr. W. again ! we shall 
 never see him again !" The old rector was much moved, but he 
 was too feeble to lay his hands upon their heads, as he had so 
 often done. No doubt he blessed them in his heart. 
 
 It was on a beautiful, calm July morning, when many persons 
 might be seen standing in groups around the old parish church. 
 Their conversation is in low tones as they look anxiously and sadly 
 towards the rectory. Close by the side of the church (the spot now 
 covered by the vestry-room) there yawns a new-made open grave. 
 The sexton is seen bustling about here and there, and from his hat 
 there streams a Icfrig black "weeper," as it was then called. One of 
 the sexton's stalwart sons has climbed up into the belfry, and there 
 sits by the dear old bell, with eyes intent upon the rectory. We 
 look into the old church, and the beautiful crimson hangings are 
 displaced, and from pulpit, desk, and communion-table the deepest 
 black depends, and the old rector's pew is lined with black. The 
 red curtains in the half-circle round the organ-loft are gone, and 
 black ones take their place. We ascend the one narrow stair and 
 look into the organ-loft. The old choir have fled, while perched 
 upon the music-stool sits a gentleman a stranger a music-book 
 before him, opened at China, C. M., that plaintive, solemn strain. 
 
 We leave the church and move on towards the rectory. In the 
 yard, drawn up before the old academy, are the Sunday-school 
 children; but now their voices are subdued and hushed, and the 
 teachers with them are dressed in mourning. We look towards 
 the rectory, and from an open side door we see persons continu- 
 ally passing in and out with weeping eyes. And now the sound 
 of the bell falls upon the ear. Its strokes are slow and solemn, 
 for the dear old bell is muffled. And soon the old rector is seen 
 approaching. Seen, did I say ? Alas ! never more to be seen in 
 this world, he is in his coffin, borne on the shoulders of his faithful
 
 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 355 
 
 vestry, while some of the diocesan clergy are the pall-bearers. At 
 the head of the procession are seen two remarkable men ; both 
 most remarkable men in their day and generation. One, a tall, 
 attenuated form, with thin, long, white locks of hair pushed be- 
 hind the ear, and his once erect form bowed down with the weight 
 of more than fourscore years. He comes from an adjoining dio- 
 cese, and is the great patriarch of the Catholic Church in America. 
 The other is the tall, erect, majestic form of the new Bishop of 
 the diocese. The old parish church is crowded to suffocation. 
 The Bishop of the diocese read the service in the church, and the 
 patriarch, with his feeble voice, committed the body of the rector 
 to the ground "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust." 
 
 The old rector was sick some three weeks. The Bishop visited 
 him and conversed with him, but the old man dwelt upon just this 
 theme : " I have no merits ; I have no merits of my own. God 
 forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ." What a lesson for that stricken flock ! What a legacy 
 he left them, that meek old man, whose whole life was a sweet 
 savor of humility and love ! Even he had no merits of his own 
 to plead ! 
 
 The old rector had been dead but a short time when the late 
 and last rector of the "Old Parish Church" was called to the rec- 
 torship. Soon the old church was found too small; the vestry con- 
 sented to its enlargement, and it was altered and enlarged in the 
 form in which it now stands. Years flowed on, and the zealous, 
 untiring, energetic rector, whose motto was "right onward" that 
 " great hearted shepherd," whose love for the lambs of the flock 
 was shown in his whole life had filled the church again to over- 
 flowing. Galleries were erected, but still more room was needed ; 
 then the corner-stone of the new cathedral was laid; after many 
 years of delay it was finished. On a bright morning in the month 
 of August a long procession of surpliced priests and deacons, with 
 the rector at their head, were seen to issue from the vestry- room 
 of the old building and take their way to the new cathedral, and 
 then upon the walls of the old parish church was written "Icha- 
 bod," fpr her glory had departed. 
 
 But I must speak of one, a young curate, a relative of the rector, 
 and his assistant. Beloved by all the parish, but especially among 
 the poor, for he was ever among them, seeking out the sick and
 
 356 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 
 
 afflicted, and wearing out his young life in his work, I saw him 
 kneel at the chancel to receive the rector's benediction as a loving 
 bridegroom, and in one short year he was lying on the bier before 
 the altar, scarce a bridegroom, scarce a father. The rector loved 
 him much, and his full heart was overflowing with grief. It was 
 on a cold November morning when the' congregation assembled to 
 the burial of the curate. We of the choir were there to sing o'er 
 his loved remains the last parting hymn. There was a new organ 
 and a new organist a tall Dane. The bell ceased to toll, the 
 dirge upon the organ began, the doors opened, and the rector 
 entered, not reading, but sobbing out those inspired words, "I 
 know that my Redeemer liveth." It needed but a sight of the 
 coffin, and to hear the rector's voice, when there came a great out- 
 burst of grief from the whole congregation ; tears were dropping 
 upon the organ keys from the great man, all unused to weeping, 
 and tears were in every eye. With a great effort the rector went 
 through the service, the hymn \yas sung, and then the organ breathed 
 forth sweet minor strains while the body of the young curate was 
 carried to its last resting place. I shall never forget the sight of 
 the rector at this time. Here again, with a great effort, he mas- 
 tered the service, and then stood at the head of the grave till it 
 was filled. 
 
 A little after this we followed the remains of a beloved brother 
 up to the old parish church, the first link broken in the chain that 
 had bound us together so long as a happy family. He was a can- 
 didate for orders in our Church, and while preparing for the min- 
 istry to win souls to Christ, the All- wise and Merciful thought fit 
 to remove him to join in the heavenly chorus that forevermore goes 
 up to Him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb forever. 
 " We all do fade as the leaf," saith Holy Writ, and so like the leaf 
 he faded away. We all know there are many almost imperceptible 
 changes of the leaf before on some bright frosty morning it slowly 
 falls to the earth : so was it with this loved one. At first he was 
 able to go up to the holy temple once on Sundays, then only on 
 communion Sundays (the first Sunday in the month), and soon not 
 able to go even then. He was only confined to his room for three 
 days. The last time he was down I found him vainly attempting 
 to ascend the stairs, when I took the poor, emaciated form in my 
 arms and carried him up. He never came down again ; two nights
 
 THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 357 
 
 afterwards, in the solemn midnight, the Bridegroom came, and he 
 went forth to meet his Lord. He had been sleeping sweetly, when 
 he awoke and said, "Why have you put out the light? Ah, I 
 know. The world recedes; it disappears" (fainter and fainter 
 grew that loving voice), "heaven opens." It stopped forever in 
 this world, and, leaning upon his faithful sister nurse, he fell asleep 
 in Jesus. It was a part of his favorite hymn, the igist, he was 
 trying to repeat. And was not heaven opening to his view ? For 
 "when Thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death ('O Lamb of 
 God') Thou didst open the kingdom of Heaven to all believers." 
 And so we laid him in the dear old churchyard, the first grave, 
 the first of our family, but many may be found there now. 
 
 I have but little to say of the late and last rector of the old 
 parish church,' for his life, and great works and labors, are now 
 before the world. By them, "being dead, he yet speaketh." A 
 few things I must nfention as a slight token of affection to the 
 memory of him who, for more than twenty-six years, broke to me 
 the bread of life, the love of whom did grow with my growth, and 
 strengthen with my strength. I was many years younger than I 
 now am, when the late rector preached a sermon in the old church 
 from this text : " Josiah was eight years old when he began to reign, 
 and he did that which was right in the sight of the Lord." Well 
 I remember through all the sermon how many times those loving 
 eyes (now closed forever) were fixed on me ; and well I remember 
 a course of sermons on the Lord's prayer, how excellent and in- 
 structive they were ; also a course of Lenten sermons from the 
 text : " Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin hath my mother 
 conceived me." Every Sunday morning we had the same text, 
 the same psalm (44), and the same hymn (56). Some of these ser- 
 mons would take him, in his forcible, energetic manner, nearly an 
 hour to deliver. Ah ! and many of them were written in the mid- 
 night hour; yea, far into Sunday morning, after he had returned 
 late in the evening, tired and worn out with visiting, and having 
 the " care of all the churches." I have often thought these words 
 of St. Paul could be well applied to hifn : "In journeyings often, 
 in perils of robbers, in perils by my own countrymen, in perils 
 among false brethren, in weariness and painfulness, in watchings 
 often, in fastings often, besides those things that are without, that 
 which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches." 
 
 *
 
 35 S THE OLD PARISH CHURCH. 
 
 Again, in view of those two great and flourishing institutions, and 
 of the hundreds of young men and maidens gathered around'him, 
 how appropriate are the words of inspired Isaiah : " He shall feed 
 his flock like a shepherd ; he shall gather the lambs with his arm, 
 and carry them in his bosom." But he has gone ! I saw the old 
 rector's funeral, and I saw, also, the funeral of the late and last rector 
 of the old parish church. Hundreds attended at the old rector's, 
 and thousands at that of the last rector, and both are awaiting the 
 resurrection of the just. 
 
 One word of the late rector's lovely wife, and I am done. 
 Who is there among us that does not remember that bright, 
 cheerful face, and that form clothed with so much simplicity, 
 though possessing great wealth ? A pattern of humility and 
 godliness to the flock, "in the modesty of her apparel, not with 
 broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array, but which be- 
 cometh women professing godliness with good works." How her 
 swift and ever ready feet went to and fro through all the parish 
 seeking after the sick and impotent, and the suffering seemed for 
 a time to forget their pains, as with light step, cheerful face, and 
 feeling voice, she visited their sick rooms! With what pride she 
 presided over her hospitable mansion, whose wide doors stood 
 ever open, and with what delight she gathered around her the 
 young ladies of the adjoining 'institution, making them feel per- 
 fectly at home, and as if she were a mother to them all ! Well do 
 I remember how quietly she glided in among us in our first great 
 sorrow, our first death, offering her services in any and every way; 
 and striving in her lovely manner to heal those who were wounded 
 and broken in heart. Again at a marriage festival she was with 
 us, rejoicing, and her light, merry laugh might often be heard as 
 she passed from room to room with a cheerful word and smile 
 for every one. But her cup of sorrow was not yet full, " for 
 whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth." In the bloom and beauty 
 of youth a son was cut down. This affliction and great sorrow 
 overwhelmed her for several years, and she was ordered to Europe 
 by her physicians. She Went, and there recovered her health. 
 Then, as she was about returning to him who was as the "apple of 
 her eye," the afflicting news of his death sped across the-Atlantic, 
 crushing her to the earth, never more to rise. She lingered but a 
 few months : " even the grasshopper became a burden, and desire
 
 FUNERAL OF REV. DR. DORR. 359 
 
 did fail." "The silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was 
 broken, the dust returned to earth as it was, and the spirit unto 
 God who gave it." Surrounded by most of her faithful, loving 
 children, she sweetly sunk to rest. In a foreign land she sleeps. 
 One line upon her tombstone will tell her whole life : " These from 
 affliction came." And now this poor, imperfect sketch is com- 
 pleted. It may be short, or it may be long, but whenever it may 
 please the All-wise and Merciful to take me hence, let me be buried 
 in the dear old churchyard among the graves of those I have never 
 ceased to mourn. May I depart in the communion of the Catholic 
 Church, in the confidence of a certain faith, and in the comfort of 
 a reasonable, religious, and holy hope ; and may I lie in the shadow 
 of the cross from the spire of the great cathedral, and that from 
 the more humble one of "The Old Parish Church." 
 
 PARISHIONER. 
 
 The following description of Rev. Dr. Dorr's funeral is by the 
 same author, John Hulme. 
 
 It was first published by request of Mrs.*Platt in the "Standard 
 of the Cross" (Ohio paper) in October, 1869. Her brother had 
 sent her the manuscript, not supposing it would be published. 
 
 It is inserted here at the request of one not a member of the 
 family, who says of it, "This is a better description of the kind 
 than anything I have ever before read." . 
 
 THE FUNERAL OF DR. DORR. 
 
 For several years past the Rev. Dr. Dorr, for thirty-two years 
 rector of old Christ Church, Philadelphia, has been steadily failing 
 in health. He died, as our readers know, on the i8th of Sep- 
 tember. 
 
 " It is something," says a contemporary, " to have been rector 
 of a church founded in 1695, presented with a communion service 
 by Queen Anne in 1719, and possessed of vestry mtnutes reaching 
 almost uninterruptedly from 1717 to the present day. Here the 
 first General Convention of the American Church met in 1785; 
 here Bishop White officiated for sixty-four years ; here President
 
 360 REV. DR. DORR. 
 
 Washington worshipped, as the colonial governors had done before 
 him ; -here many of the most curious scenes of pre- and post-Revo- 
 lutionary times have occurred and been recorded j and here at 
 this hour 'are clerical labors reproducing in their zeal and self- 
 sacrifice the famous history of the old ministers sent by the Society 
 for the Propagation of the Gospel. But little changed within" or 
 without, solid, and undecayed, old Christ Church still stands, a 
 relic of the past, and a temple of the present. The chime of eight 
 bells still rings as it did in 1754; the pulpit has remained almost 
 unaltered since 1770 ; the library still contains Queen Anne's dona- 
 tion of 1695, and the hospital continues its benefactions, begun in 
 1772. As with old Trinity, New York, business improvements 
 have long since driven wealthy parishioners to the West End, and 
 left the surrounding region to commerce and the poor. Yet, as 
 with Trinity, many retain their interest and their pews, always 
 striving to reach for at least one Sunday service in the venerable 
 church of ancestral memories." 
 
 We are indebted to a friend of the "Standard of the Cross" for 
 the loan of a private letter containing so stirring an account of the 
 solemnities at the funeral of Dr. Dorr, that, with permission, we 
 give it to our readers, though not designed for publication : 
 
 " Monday, 5 P. M. Funeral of Rev. Dr. Dorr. As I turned 
 from Third Street into Church Alley the sound of the bells first fell 
 upon my ear. It was a sort of half peal, with a terrible clash 
 clash clash, and the nearer you came the more dreadful was the 
 sound. It was as if all light, and life, and joy, and hope, and 
 pleasure had forever fled, and naught was left but trouble and sor- 
 row in the world. The church was already densely crowded, the 
 galleries and every available part, except the middle block of pews 
 reserved for the procession. I took my station at the entrance to 
 the middle aisle, and looked around. 
 
 " The church was hung in deep black, with heavy folds around 
 the tops of the high pillars; the chancel window had heavy folds 
 around it, also the pulpit, lectern, and altar. In the centre of the 
 altar, standing erect, was a large, white cross of exquisite flowers, 
 and at its base a beautiful white crown of the same flowers. The 
 beautiful monument to ' Mrs. Esther Dorr' had also a wreath and 
 a cross of the same beautiful flowers, whilst a splendid wreath of 
 the same adorned the noble monument of ' Captain Dorr.' The
 
 REV. DR. DORR. 361 
 
 window directly over the rector's pe\v was covered with black, and 
 the pew was also draped. It is now five o'clock, and all this while 
 the bells had kept up their dreadful notes, and the old sexton was 
 hurrying to and fro, and the people still crowded in. Right under 
 the tower, at the west end of the church, is the Bible-class room, 
 and here was the body, surrounded by the afflicted family and 
 the clergy and others. From this room two wide doors open 
 directly into the centre aisle, and the vestries of St. 'Peter's, St. 
 James, and Christ Church enter, two by two, with slow and solemn 
 step. They walk the whole length of the aisle to the chancel, and 
 then open right and left ; these were followed by the clergy, to 
 the number of twenty-five, in their ordinary dress. Then came 
 the surpliced clergy, to the number of thirty; the last six bearing 
 in their arms all that was mortal of the late Dr. Dorr. * I am the 
 resurrection and the life' was heard amidst the solemn strains of the 
 organ, now rising, now falling, as the body slowly passed down 
 the aisle. Next to the coffin, with the eldest daughter, walked the 
 Hon. Horace Binney, Sen., whose once erect and well-knit frame, 
 with lofty bearing, is now slightly bowed with the weight of more 
 than fourscore years and ten. In striking contrast came next the 
 youthful, vigorous, manly form of Mr. Ed. Carpenter, lately mar- 
 ried to the second daughter; and then followed the rest of the 
 mourners. The body is placed before the altar, the surpliced 
 clergy enter within the chancel, the organ ceases its loud wailing, 
 glides into a low minor strain, and the voices of the choir break 
 forth in the solemn chant for the dead, ' Lord, let me know my 
 end, and the number of my days.' It is too dark to see the book, 
 but I know it all by heart. 
 
 "As I raise my eyes to the gallery, directly over the pulpit, they 
 fall upon a strange sight. Sitting amidst the vast throng, and rock- 
 ing her body to and fro, with an old, white handkerchief to her 
 eyes, which she occasionally removes to look down upon the coffin, 
 was an old, old woman, the very last of Bishop White's old pen- 
 sioners. She seemed to be full of grief, the old body rocking to 
 and fro, and communing within herself, but no one noticed her, 
 and the dirge went on : 
 
 " 'Hear my prayer, O Lord, for I am a sojourner, as all my 
 fathers were.'
 
 362 REV. DR. DORR. . 
 
 " 'Yes, here I am, left still a little longer. Good old Bishop 
 White has been gone more than thirty years. I was younger then 
 than what I am now.' 
 
 "On goes the dirge : 
 
 " 'Lord, Thou hast been our refuge, from one generation to 
 another.' 
 
 "'Yes! Yes! I believe him to be my refuge. I have tried 
 to look to the cross, poor old ignorant creature that I am ; and so 
 I try to say, My soul doth wait for the Lord ; in His word is my 
 trust.' 
 
 " Still on goes the dirge : 
 
 " 'The days of our age are threescore years and ten ; and though 
 men be so strong that they come to fourscore years' 
 
 " 'Yes, and I have come to that; I am more than eighty years 
 old. Little did I think I should outlive that good man down there 
 in his coffin ; little did I think I should outlive him.' 
 
 " Still on goes the dirge : 
 
 " ' So* teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts 
 unto wisdom.' 
 
 " 'Yes. Yes, I will try to apply my heart unto wisdom. I will 
 try and wait upon the Lord yet a little while, a little longer, and 
 then I shall go where the dear old Bishop and Dr. Dorr, and all 
 of the old pensioners have gone.' 
 
 "Then we had the beautiful lesson, and then the hymn, 'Rock 
 of Ages.' This was performed in a masterly and touching manner. 
 When they came to the third verse there was a slight pause, and 
 then organ and voices, very slow and solemn, went on, 
 
 ' While I draw this fleeting breath, 
 When mine eyelids close in death ;' 
 
 Then a triumphant outburst of organ and voices : 
 
 ' When I rise to worlds unknown, 
 And behold Thee on Thy throne ;' 
 
 Again subdued and slow : 
 
 ' Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 Let me hide myself in Thee.'
 
 REV. DR. DORR. 363 
 
 "During the singing of the hymn it had been growing quite 
 dark, the choir alone being lit up, but from the stained glass 
 chancel window there would come, darting across the great array 
 of surplices (the faces of the wearers being hid in the gloom) an 
 occasional ray of light illuminating the large, white cross and crown 
 upon the black coffin with startling effect. 
 
 "And now the procession slowly takes its way down the aisle 
 and into the yard, the organ pouring out a great and bitter wailing, 
 and the bells again set up their dreadful clanging. Not a word 
 could be heard till the bells stopped, and then, 'earth to earth, 
 ashes to ashes, dust to dust,' and all was over. 
 
 "Again the bells rang out, and the last thing I heard, as I 
 plunged into the noise and bustle of the great city, was their fear- 
 ful clanging."
 
 m\ 
 
 
 II 
 
 ii mi MM 
 
 II !! 
 
 II! 
 
 II! fill 
 
 liiiiiii 
 
 ii i Iil 
 
 Hi 1 iiii'iii 
 
 Ii; 
 
 Ill Ii 
 
 i 
 
 III 
 
 II 
 
 ilijl I 
 
 ' ! i : r : i : : 
 
 II 
 
 iiiii 
 
 ill 
 
 I! IKil 
 
 HI 
 
 jllil 
 ill!) 
 
 ii i 
 
 
 i n 
 
 
 ill 
 
 Iil 
 
 i! jHil! 
 
 HJHiilil 
 
 ill II 
 
 I! 
 
 
 ! i 
 
 III 
 
 l! 
 
 II 
 
 ' 1 
 
 HHilllli I I 
 
 !! 
 
 :! I I i i 
 
 
 ! 
 
 i 
 
 Ii! i! 
 
 ! |1 
 I 
 
 I iil 
 
 i 
 
 iiiiiiyy 
 
 HI 
 
 
 :: i j 
 i 
 
 iiii!