1 
 
 
 rio 
 
 - issi 
 hi tin 
 ersoi 
 
 sliall forfe 
 times the 
 in favor o 
 his per dier 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 California State Library 
 
 ibrary, 
 
 of all 
 of the 
 on. If 
 tary, he 
 y, three 
 warrant 
 ate, for 
 SuTITinember 
 
 
 or officer has returned all books taken out of the Library by him, and has 
 settled all accounts for injuring such books or othenvi.-c. 
 
 SEC. 15. Hooks may be taken from the Library by the members of the 
 -hitnre and its officers during the session of the same, and at any time 
 by the (Jovernor anil the officers of the Executive Department of this State 
 who are required to keep their offices at the seat of government, the 
 Justices of the; Supreme Court, the Attorney- General and the Trustees of 
 the Library.
 
 A S PA S I A 
 
 BY 
 
 C. HOLLAND. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 
 1869.
 
 Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
 
 ps 
 
 II^TEODUOTIOK 
 
 A PREFACE to my autobiography seems superfluous. It 
 is not for glory that I give my readers a history of my 
 life's experiences, and not that I am to be held up as an 
 ensample in all that is good ; but it is that I may, if pos 
 sible, be instrumental in arousing the latent energies in 
 the minds of some of my readers, that they may gain 
 courage to meet and successfully overcome the trials that 
 shall come upon them, and learn to count them as bless 
 ings in disguise, and thus be strengthened in daily duties, 
 be prepared to cope with grim adversity, when it comes, 
 for come it may. To obtain the sweets of real happiness 
 from prosperity, learn to appreciate the society of the 
 virtuous and refined ; to discriminate between truth and 
 error ; to judge correctly of character, and thus be better 
 fitted to mingle in society, and also understand the true 
 philosophy of living, that will bring the highest degree 
 of permanent happiness. If I shall be instrumental in 
 thus leading even one into paths of virtue and happiness, 
 then am I amply rewarded for my work. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 CHICAGO, May, 1869. 
 
 (in) 
 
 932706
 
 ASPASIA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IT was on a beautiful afternoon in June, toward the 
 close of the day, as I was sauntering home from school. 
 The golden rays of a summer's sun were glancing 
 through the forests, and the luxuriant foliage by the 
 wayside was ever and anon casting its heavy shades 
 across my path. The thrush, hidden in the thick under 
 brush, was warbling its notes of praise ; the beautiful 
 red-crested robins, perched upon the high branches of the 
 stately maples and elms that overhung the road, were 
 exultingly singing their evening songs. The sprightly 
 little red squirrel, as innocent, apparently, as though the 
 whole earth were an Eden, would occasionally jump 
 across my path, the lowing of the herd or the soft bleat 
 ing of the flock could be heard across the meadows, and 
 all nature around me seemed to be full of life, beauty, and 
 love. 
 
 Who has not been a child ? although it is said there 
 are no children nowadays, there were children when I 
 was young; and who has not, in the tender years of 
 childhood, when the emotions of the soul were readily 
 awakened, when love was ardent, when everything beau 
 tiful and lovely from without was readily photographed 
 
 1* (5)
 
 6 ASP ASIA. 
 
 upon the soul, and shown forth with peculiar brilliancy 
 in the animated life, who, of all such, has not experi 
 enced the holy and heavenly influences coming through 
 nature from nature's God ? And who does not love to be 
 carried back in their recollections to the scenes of their 
 childhood, when, in the early morning, while the dew 
 was yet heavy on the grass about the door, a happy 
 family were called to the breakfast-table, and, after having 
 partaken of the plain but substantial fare, the honored 
 head of the household would read a chapter from the 
 old family Bible, and, all reverently bowing around the 
 family altar, he would render devout thanksgiving for 
 the tender watch-care of a kind, heavenly Father " during 
 the dark and defenseless hours of the past night," and 
 supplicate God's favors to rest upon them during the day, 
 '-Give us this day our daily bread." Worship being 
 ended, each would fly to the duties of the day ; and, at 
 the time at which I commence my history, mine was to 
 school. Yes, away to school ; across the meadow, by the 
 small, beaten path, through the tall herds'-grass and beau 
 tiful waving red clover, across the rippling brook, "going 
 on forever," in which the shy, spotted trout were now and 
 then darting out from the deep-shaded water under a log, 
 which lay close under the bank, overgrown with moss, 
 over the hill and across the pasture, where the sprightly 
 little lambs were taking their morning gambols, thus 
 emerging into the road just this side of the " Big Bridge," 
 and so on to the old red school-house which stood under 
 the hill. 
 
 My father was a farmer. I have heard him say he had 
 
 / / 
 
 nothing to commence life with but a good common-school 
 education, a well-trained mind, and an abiding faith in 
 God ; firmly believing that " the hand of the diligent 
 maketh rich." This was the legacy bequeathed to him
 
 ASP AST A 7 
 
 by his parents, to which he had a perfect title, the same 
 having been inherited by them; and who would wish 
 for a better ? 
 
 I have heard my mother say she was also trained in 
 the school of adversity ; and, thus united, both my parents 
 felt themselves continually overshadowed by the pres 
 ence of God, and their everyday acts were squared by 
 the rule of love. Their children were early dedicated to 
 God, and, as they grew up to manhood and womanhood, 
 they were continually, by example and precept, enjoined 
 to " walk in wisdom's ways." My father was known 
 among the neighbors as an upright, honest man ; and how 
 many times I have heard him say to "the boys," "In all 
 your dealings be strictly honest." 
 
 I was the youngest of my father's family ; there were 
 three boys and two girls older than myself, and it was the 
 very month and the very day that I was twelve years 
 old, that I was returning from school, as before mentioned ; 
 and being only disturbed in my reflections by the beauty 
 and loveliness of nature around me (and not greatly dis 
 turbed, either, for I was every day made familiar with 
 these lovely scenes), I said to myself, " What am I, and 
 what am I to be ?" 
 
 The first I could easily answer : I am a girl. Yes, a 
 wild, rollicking girl. The second depended upon my re 
 solve, and the strength of such resolutions; and I then 
 and there resolved that I would be a woman in the broad 
 est sense of the term. 
 
 I was conscious of possessing natural endowments 
 which, if cultivated and fully developed, would fit me for 
 usefulness and enable me to fulfill a mission of good. 
 
 My brothers and sisters had all enjoyed the advantages 
 of the district school, and John and J times, I he t\vo eldest, 
 were already grown to manhood, and engaged in business,
 
 8 A SPA SI A. 
 
 John on a farm, and James as clerk in a store in a neigh 
 boring village. William, my youngest brother, was in 
 his last term at the academy, and, upon graduating, he 
 came home to remain on the farm with my father. Cath 
 erine (or Kate, good soul, as we familiarly called her), 
 my eldest sister, was about to be married to the Rev. 
 Mr. Shaw, a young minister, just licensed to preach, and 
 installed over the church in our town. Elizabeth, my 
 second sister, was in her second year at the Young 
 Ladies' Seminary, in a town about twenty miles distant. 
 
 Thus I was the only girl yes, the only child then at 
 home. 
 
 There was but one house within a half-mile of my 
 father's : that was Deacon Jones's. 
 
 Just over the hill, and about half-way to Deacon 
 Jones's, there was a strip of pine woods, and a beautiful 
 brook ran through it and across the road, covered by a 
 rickety old bridge. Here Isabella Jones (Bell, we called 
 her) and myself often met, and, wading into the soft, rip 
 pling water, among the smooth stones of the brook, 
 amused ourselves for hours catching the sprightly little 
 minnows, which we accomplished by first scraping out a 
 basin in the sand at the edge of the water, then walling 
 it around with stones from the brook, and " chinking it 
 in with sods," leaving a sort of gate- way or passage on 
 the water-side, then each, with an alder bush in hand, 
 would wade in and drive the little fish into the basin thus 
 prepared, and, stopping the aperture, we would play with 
 them awhile, then let them out, a few at a time, and 
 watch them swiftly gliding down stream, as much as to 
 say, Catch me again if you can. 
 
 Bell Jones was about my age, and she had a brother 
 George, a little older than herself. George and my 
 brother William frequently went fishing of a rainy day
 
 ASP ASIA. 9 
 
 (when it was so wet they could not work on the farm), 
 and Bell and I used to keep a supply of minnows in our 
 basin for the boys to use as bait for fishing. 
 
 During the summer vacation we used often, of a warm 
 afternoon, to meet in the " pine woods" by the brook, and 
 enjoy ourselves either in fishing, or hunting rabbits, for 
 the boys had taught us to hunt and fish ; of course we 
 used no fowling-pieces. There were many rabbits in the 
 woods, and Rover, our faithful house-dog, who always 
 attended us in our ramblings about the farm, was an ex 
 pert in finding and catching them. 
 
 The boys also used to set their snares across the rabbit- 
 paths, and thus catch many; and occasionally a partridge, 
 which had foolishly strayed from the covey, would uncon 
 sciously "stick her head" in the snare, and away she 
 would go dangling in the air, out of reach of any sly old 
 fox that might be out in search of family supplies to feed 
 her cunning baby foxes in the den. 
 
 One very warm day we were playing in the cool brook 
 under the shade of the dense old pines, and suddenly we 
 were startled at the cry of some one ; we ran hastily to 
 the road, whence the sound came, and who should we 
 find but Laura Greenwood, a girl about my age, but one 
 we did not meet very often, for the reason that Mr. 
 Greenwood lived nearly a mile east of our house, across 
 the fields, and he was an irreligious man, and neither him 
 self nor his family attended church. Laura had been 
 berrying, and, upon the principle that " the longest way 
 round is the nearest way home," she had come around 
 the road, and as she was passing along leisurely in the 
 shade of the heavy branches of the stately old pines 
 which overhung the road, all at once a huire lilack snake 
 slid out into the path, directly in front of her, and, rais 
 ing his ugly head about a foot from the ground, disputed
 
 10 ASFASIA. 
 
 her passage. The poor girl was almost frightened out of 
 her senses. Bell caught a stick and I a stone, and we 
 were just about to move upon the enemy, when Farmer 
 Osgood came suddenly around the turn of the road, driv 
 ing a yoke of oxen. I beckoned him to stop his team, 
 which he did, then pointed to the snake, and, with one 
 stroke of his heavy ox-whip, he cut it completely in twain. 
 We thanked him for the deliverance, and all three of us 
 went down to the brook. 
 
 Of course the subject of conversation was snakes, and 
 each vied with the others in telling snake stories. 
 
 At last said I, " Girls, I can beat you both in a snake 
 story, and it's a true one, too." 
 
 " Let's have it, then," said they. 
 
 " Well," said I, " we will go out on the grass yonder, 
 under the shade of those sweet-scented locust-trees, and 
 I'll tell the story," which was agreed to; and, after hav 
 ing each picked our aprons full of honeysuckles, and a 
 handful of wintergreens (or, as we called the young 
 plants, "young comeups"), we seated ourselves for the 
 story. 
 
 " Now," said Laura, " tell us a true one." 
 
 " Yes, I will," said I ; "and this is it. 
 
 "A great while ago there was a man and his wife lived 
 in a beautiful garden, a perfect paradise of a place, and, 
 according to what I have heard about it, it was something 
 like the place where we are, only it was a thousand times 
 more beautiful ; but there were three little rivers running 
 through it, just like Jones's Brook through this hollow; 
 and we have plenty of honeysuckles here, but in the gar 
 den in which this man and woman lived there were all 
 sorts of beautiful flowers, the perfumes of which made it 
 perfectly delightful living there, and everything was just 
 as lovejy as it could be. The owner of the garden gave
 
 AS PAST A. 11 
 
 it to this man, and told him that he need not work at all, 
 but only be happy " 
 
 "And his wife, too ?" inquired Laura. 
 
 " Yes, and his wife also ; she need not work at all, but 
 only be happy; and he would give them all there was 
 there, and furnish them with all the food they wanted, if 
 they would obey him. 
 
 " Now surely that was very reasonable, was it not ? 
 
 " Well, there were a great many fruit trees in the gar 
 den (for it was a large place, I suppose ; bigger than my 
 father's farm), and the owner of the place told the man 
 and woman that they might pick and eat just as much 
 fruit as they wished, and welcome. But right in the 
 middle of the garden there stood a tree that hung full of 
 splendid-looking fruit, large and fair, the sides of which 
 were red and tempting, but deadly poison ; and the owner 
 of the place told the man and his wife that they must not 
 touch the fruit of that tree, and I presume it was because 
 it was poisonous ; for you know that some of the pret 
 tiest wild flowers and berries we find are poison to touch 
 or eat. Well, the man and his wife, in walking around, 
 had to go right past this tree very often ; and every time 
 they saw it they wanted some of the fruit. 
 
 " There were a great many animals, of every sort, that 
 the owner of the place had kept tame ; and they walked 
 about the garden as much as they pleased, and without 
 hurting each other, or the man and woman, of whom they 
 were very fond. 
 
 " There were lions, tigers, bears, cattle, horses, sheep, 
 dogs, and every other animal that can be thought of. 
 And there was a very beautiful serpent " 
 
 "Oh," said Laura, "beautiful serpent! how can you 
 say so ?" 
 
 " Well," said I, "it was beautiful then ; it didn't crawl
 
 12 ASP AS I A. 
 
 along on the ground, as it does now, but stood up, I sup 
 pose; perhaps it had feet, so that it could walk and hold 
 its head high in the air ; and you know very well that if 
 we didn't dislike snakes as we do, we should have called 
 that big black snake, that frightened you so to-day, hand 
 some. 
 
 "Well, this old serpent was one day at the tree that 
 bore such beautiful fruit, when the man and his wife passed 
 along, and said the serpent, ' Why don't you eat some of 
 the delicious fruit on this tree ?' " 
 
 Then the girls both burst out laughing. " Why," said 
 Bell, " we thought you were going to tell us a true story." 
 
 " So I am," said I. 
 
 "Then why say the serpent talked ?" 
 
 " Because he did," said I; " arid it is supposed by many 
 people that nearly all, if not all, the animals could once 
 speak, and not only converse with each other, but with 
 man ; and we know that they have a sort of language by 
 which they talk with each other now. Dr. Woodman 
 and Parson Shaw were at our house last week, and I 
 heard them talking with my father about this very thing. 
 And Dr. Woodman said that several of the animals have 
 the organs of speech fully developed now, showing that 
 they did once speak. 'Yes,' said Parson Shaw, 'and I 
 believe that when sin is all gone out of the world, the 
 animals will talk again.' " 
 
 " Sin !" said Laura ; " what does he mean by that ?" 
 
 " He means," said I, " when all wicked people die, or 
 else become good, so that nobody lies, or cheats, or 
 swears, or steals, or does anything wrong. 
 
 " But to my story. The man and woman told the ser 
 pent that the owner of the garden charged them not to 
 eat of that fruit, and that if they did they should surely 
 die.
 
 ASPAS1A. 13 
 
 " The serpent then asked them what they supposed such 
 beautiful fruit was made to grow for, if not to be eaten, 
 and right in the midst of the garden, too, where they 
 passed every day ; ' and besides,' said he, ' I know you will 
 not surely die if you eat of the fruit of this tree.' But 
 the man went on, and wouldn't stop to talk with the ser 
 pent ; and it had been better if the woman had gone also ; 
 but she did not ; she liked to hear the serpent talk ; he 
 had sparkling eyes, was smooth-tongued, and flattered 
 her ; told her she would be like a god, know everything, 
 if she would listen to him and eat the fruit. And she 
 finally yielded to the temptation, and picked some splen 
 did specimens of the fruit from the tree, and ate them, 
 and she was filled with ecstasies of delight, and ran after 
 her husband, and gave him some, and he ate it, and they 
 both went to dancing and acting shamefully. 
 
 " The serpent stood looking on to see the effect, for he 
 knew he had lied to them, and that it would prove the 
 ruin of both of them. Well, it was toward evening, and 
 they were acting in this manner, but were beginning to 
 feel anxious lest the owner of the garden would find it 
 out ; and all at once they heard the man's name called, 
 and they ran and hid themselves in the bushes; but the 
 owner of the garden called loudly to them, to know why 
 they had hidden from him ; then the man confessed that 
 he had eaten of that forbidden fruit, but said he should 
 not have done so if his wife had not eaten and given him 
 some, and then his wife said she would not have done so 
 had it not l>een for the serpent. 
 
 "Then the owner of the garden cursed 1 he serpent, and 
 said he should crawl on the ground, and eat dust always, 
 and that everybody should hate it, and should bruise its 
 head, and kill it. And that's what makes us hate 
 snakes so. 
 
 2
 
 14 A SPA SI A. 
 
 "And the owner drove the man and his wife right out of 
 the garden, and put one of his servants, with a sword in 
 his hand, at the gate to keep them out, poor, forlorn, de 
 spised creatures ; and the animals ran after them, and 
 scared them ; before this, all the animals loved them, and 
 would eat grass out of their hands ; but now the cattle 
 stuck forward their ears, and ran bellowing after them. 
 The asses brayed after them, and scared them nearly to 
 death. The dogs barked after them, and would have bitten 
 them, had they not lain down just under the gate, where 
 the servant with the sword in his hand stood. But they 
 were kept awake all night by the howling of wolves and 
 roaring of lions, and thus the poor wretches very soon 
 came to realize the terrible consequences of doing wrong." 
 
 " Well," said the girls, " this is a pretty big story." 
 
 Bell said she thought she had heard something like it, 
 but could not say certain. Laura said she had never 
 heard anything at all like it, and she was a little inclined 
 to disbelieve it. 
 
 " Now," said they, " tell us the name of the owner of 
 the garden, and the name of the man and his wife, and 
 where it was, and we will believe it." 
 
 Said I, " It is almost night now, and we will meet 
 here next Saturday afternoon, and then I'll tell you; 
 but, in the mean time, you ask your parents if they ever 
 heard the story." 
 
 Said Laura, "Mr. Osgood, who lives near our bouse, 
 has a beautiful daughter, Mary, about as old as we 
 are ; and, if you girls do not object, I would like to bring 
 her with me on Saturday." 
 
 I replied that we should be delighted to see her. 
 
 So, bidding each other good-by, we ran to our homes.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE day was clear and pleasant ; the new-mown hay 
 in the meadows filled the air with its fragrance. 
 
 My mother, who had been busying herself about the 
 household duties, with what little assistance I was able 
 to render, had finished up her work and sat down to her 
 mending, and I was sitting by the window, reading, when 
 who should come in but Jane Fisher (or Aunt Jane, as 
 she was familiarly called) ? 
 
 Miss Jane was a maiden lady who lived in the village, 
 and she thought a great deal of my mother, and fre 
 quently visited at our house. She was one of those pre 
 cise women, naturally very jealous and suspecting, very 
 fond of hearing and telling some new thing ; she was, 
 however, a good woman, and my mother said she thought 
 she tried to overcome those defects in her nature, and, by 
 the grace of God, she succeeded to a great extent ; but 
 she possessed the happy faculty of obtaining a full store 
 of news each time before visiting us. 
 
 I heard my mother say to father once, after Miss Jane 
 had left, " that if she could visit us every evening we 
 should be quite as well off for news, living on the farm, 
 as if we were residing in the village, and possibly better, 
 for Jane told her many things she was sure she could 
 not have learned from any other source." 
 
 To which my father replied, " Well, I think Jane is a 
 good woman, and means well, and her case only proves 
 to me that we are all designed by Providence to fill a par- 
 
 (15)
 
 16 A SPA SI A. 
 
 ticular niche in life ; in other words, it requires all sorts 
 of people to make a world. 
 
 "And although some may be afraid of Jane, because of 
 her everlasting gabbling, yet, after all, I think she is a 
 very valuable member of society ; for if she sees or hears 
 of the slightest departure from duty of one of the mem 
 bers of the church, whether male or female, young or old, 
 she runs right to the minister with it ; and if there is a 
 young gentleman or lady about to be married, and Jane 
 hears anything serious against the character of either, she 
 runs right straight to the other and reports it, and it is 
 getting so that people in town dare not do wrong, lest 
 Jane will know it ; and, although it is in many in 
 stances very annoying to have such a person about, yet 
 I think, on the whole, society is the better for their pres 
 ence." 
 
 " Well," said niy mother, " good-afternoon, Jane. How 
 do you get along this warm day ?" 
 
 " Oh, dear," said she, " I am about melted ; give me a 
 fan. I have come afoot all the way from town, and there's 
 Alex. Fish and Mary Bacon came whirring by me in a top 
 buggy ; plenty of room for me to rrde, but they didn't 
 ask me ; and I have heard something about that young 
 Fish that I don't think is exactly right, and they say 
 Mary Bacon is trying oh, how hot 'tis ! they say Mary 
 is trying with all her might to catch him, and I intend to 
 see her, and tell her what I have heard, and put her on 
 her guard ; it's really none of my business, but then 
 Mary is a good girl, and I feel as though it was my 
 duty." 
 
 My mother replied, "Jane, you had better be careful, 
 or you will get Mrs. Bacon offended with you ; for my 
 opinion is she thinks very well of young Fish." 
 
 " Well," said Jane, " I can't help it if she does ; I must
 
 AS PAS I A. If 
 
 do my duty. By the way, what do you think of Parson 
 Shaw's sermon last Sabbath ?" 
 
 " In what respect?" inquired my mother. 
 
 " Why, the doctrine of salvation by grace." 
 
 My mother replied, " I like it ; and it is, indeed, a pre 
 cious doctrine to me to feel that, with all my sins rest 
 ing upon me, I can cast the burden all upon Jesus, who 
 has said, ' My grace shall be sufficient for you.' " 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied Jane ; " but then it strikes me we 
 have got something to do. I believe in works some. 
 There are lots of Christians who are delighted to hear 
 the minister preach against works, and of a salvation 
 purely by grace, for no other reason in the world but that 
 they are too lazy to work, and haven't enough religion to 
 make them." 
 
 " Xo doubt," replied my mother, " there are too many 
 such church-members as you describe ; but, Jane, you 
 must bear this in mind, those who are truly Christians, 
 have the love of Christ in their hearts, have been born 
 again by the Spirit of God, and renewed in the spirit of 
 their mind by grace divine, all such will work; nopower 
 on earth can keep them from working. The Bibie says 
 our faith is only manifested by our works, and if we have 
 no works it is a sure evidence that we have no faith, for 
 'faith without works is dead.' " 
 
 " Well," said Jane, " I think you are about right, 
 after all ; I never looked at it in just that light before." 
 
 During all this conversation I had been as mute as a 
 statue ; but the principles of theology which had been 
 under discussion were of great importance to me, and 
 finding that a sermon, which I heard, but did not remem 
 ber a single sentence of, was of so much interest to ladies 
 of mature years, I resolved I hat henceforth I would pay 
 particular attention to all the preacher should say, and 
 
 2*
 
 18 ASP A SI A. 
 
 try to remember it, which I have ever since done, and 
 greatly to my benefit, and by the time I was sixteen years 
 of age I could remember and repeat one-half of any ser 
 mon I heard ; and if my young readers would all accustom 
 themselves to this practice, they would find it very inter 
 esting and vastly profitable. 
 
 After the conversation just mentioned, Jane turned her 
 chair around toward me, and inquired after my health, 
 whether I attended school or not, how far advanced I was 
 in my studies, etc., and, said she, with a deep-drawn sigh, 
 "Oh, dear! when I see a bright little girl like you just 
 emerging out of girlhood, I pity her, for she don't realize 
 the real happiness of youth, nor the troubles of mature 
 life, and I recall the lines of the old poet : 
 
 "Seek not the sweets of life, in life's first bloom; 
 They ill prepare us for the pain to come." 
 
 To which beautiful sentiment I replied, I enjoyed the 
 sweets of life every day ; that only yesterday "us girls" 
 were down in the pine woods by Jones's Brook, and we 
 had a splendid time, but then I didn't suppose these pleas 
 ures could prepare us for the adversities of life, which I 
 felt were sure to come upon all, as I had frequently heard 
 my father say. 
 
 Just at this time sister Kate came down-stairs ; she and 
 Miss Jane met each other cordially, and about the first 
 question Jane asked was to know of Kate when she was 
 to be married ; she said she couldn't help thinking about 
 it in church every Sunday ; it was a good match, and she 
 was glad of it ; she felt as though it was providential. 
 
 Kate replied, she had not certainly fixed upon the 
 day of the wedding, but assured Jane that if any one out 
 of the family was invited she should be. 
 
 At this, Jane sprang out of her chair, and, said she,
 
 AS PA SI A. 19 
 
 " Kate, you're the best girl that ever was born in this 
 town," and tears of gratitude filled her eyes. 
 
 " Well," said Kate, " you ought not to think of our 
 being married, during the services on the Sabbath." 
 
 "I suppose I ought not," said Jane, "but I can't 
 help it; for your mother knows I always thought every 
 thing of you, ever since you were a little girl ; and as for 
 Parson Shaw, I do think if ever there was a saint on 
 earth he is one. I was over to Mr. Brown's the other 
 night when his little boy died, and it seemed as though it 
 would kill Mr. and Mrs. Brown ; they fairly worshiped 
 that little boy. Parson Shaw was there, and it certainly 
 seemed as though I never heard such a prayer as he 
 made, and such consolation as he poured into those 
 wounded hearts I never heard before. I just ran over to 
 Mr. Brown's this morning to see if they had anything to 
 say about it, for I knew you would like to hear it, and I 
 knew they would say something about it; and I hadn't 
 more than entered the house when Mrs. Brown burst out 
 crying, and, said she, ' Jane, did you ever hear a minister 
 talk and pray as Mr. Shaw did when Johnny died ? hus 
 band and I both said it seemed as though he was an 
 angel.' " 
 
 Just at this time Peggy, the kitchen girl, announced 
 tea; my father coming in from the field, we all gathered 
 around the tea-table, and Jane kept father so busy talking 
 that we did not finish tea till dark ; then father called one 
 of the hired men, and he hitched up one of the horses, 
 and took Jane home. And, as she was getting in the 
 wagon, said mother, " Come again, Jane ; we love to have 
 you come and see us." 
 
 " Yes," said I, " because you have so much news to 
 tell." 
 
 " Hush I" said my mother. " You should not tell the
 
 20 ASP AS I A. 
 
 truth at all times, though you should always speak the 
 truth." 
 
 The morrow was the Sabbath ; we all sat about the 
 table, and read from our Bibles the chapter containing 
 the Sabbath-school lesson, and, having read the same, my 
 father expounded it to us all, verse by verse, after which 
 worship was held, and we all retired to rest. 
 
 Sabbath dawned upon us a lovely day, and in due time 
 we all rode to church. The house was full, and the con 
 gregation was deeply affected. Father said he did not 
 remember of having heard a more impressive discourse 
 than Mr. Shaw preached that day. His text was, " Ex 
 cept ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish ;" and it is said 
 that Farmer Osgood, Mrs. Greenwood, and several others, 
 who had never been to church in this town, were there, 
 and they were all deeply affected, and some even shed 
 tears. The pastor referred to Johnny Brown's sudden 
 death, and warned all the children to repent of their sins, 
 and love Jesus, so that if any of them were called to die 
 suddenly, as Johnny Brown had, they might not perish, 
 but have everlasting life. He then appealed to parents 
 to attend more earnestly to the interests of the souls of 
 their children. I remember with what pathos he urged 
 upon parents their duties in this respect, and how he 
 wept when he said, with his eyes turned toward heaven, 
 " My dear friends, one and all, I expect, sooner or later, 
 to stand before yonder white throne, and render an account 
 of my stewardship here ; and, oh, how blessed it will be, 
 and how my Saviour will rejoice, and how angels will 
 sing, if I can be permitted to hand in every name of those 
 who now listen to my voice as among those who ' have 
 washed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb'!" 
 
 I shall never lose the impressions received that day ; 
 and, although I had previously resolved to lead a Chris-
 
 AS PA SI A. 21 
 
 tian's life, my resolutions were greatly strengthened that 
 day. 
 
 My father was superintendent of the Sabbath-school, 
 and, after the lesson was over, he called the school to 
 order, and spoke of little Johnny Brown's death (for 
 he was a member of the Sabbath-school, and greatly 
 beloved by all). My father said that when Johnny was 
 dying he sent word to all the little boys and girls in the 
 Sunday-school to love their Saviour, and be good, and 
 meet him in heaven. 
 
 He said Johnny was so happy that he was going home 
 to his Saviour that he sang the following, and begged 
 of those who stood about his bed to continue to sing to 
 
 him as long as he lived : 
 
 
 "And may I still get there, 
 
 Still reach the heavenly shore ; 
 The land forever bright and fair, 
 Where sorrow reigns no more. 
 
 "I part with earth and sin, 
 
 And shout, The danger's past, 
 My Saviour takes me fully in, 
 And I am his at last." 
 
 There was scarcely a dry eye when father finished 
 reading the hymn, and some of the children sobbed aloud; 
 it was deeply solemn, and many resolved from that time 
 to lead better lives. 
 
 As usual, dinner was ready for us at home when we 
 returned from church, and we had but just been seated at 
 the table when Laura Greenwood came running up the 
 yard, past the window before which the table stood. On 
 seeing her I ran to meet her, and, perceiving by her down 
 cast look that something sad had happened, inquired has 
 tily what was the matter. She was so out of breath with
 
 22 AS PAS I A. 
 
 running that she could hardly speak, but, said she, "When 
 we were returning from church to-day, my father's horse 
 got frightened, and ran away, and threw us all out of the 
 wagon, and somehow I escaped ; but I expect it broke 
 both my parents' limbs, for they lie there beside the road, 
 and they cannot get up. And, oh, I am so sorry ! because 
 they have not been to church for many years, and had it 
 not been for me they would not have gone to-day." 
 
 My father heard Laura's story, and arose quickly from 
 the table, and said he to the hired man, " Jump on to the 
 black horse, and run for Dr. Woodman, and tell him to 
 go to Mr. Greenwood's as quick as possible, and I will 
 be there." Then, catching up his hat, he ran across the 
 fields to Mr. Greenwood's with all possible speed, and 
 mother and Kate followed as fast as they could, taking 
 Laura with them. 
 
 My father found Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood lying by the 
 side of the road, near their house, where they had been 
 thrown. They were groaning with pain ; on examination, 
 he became satisfied their limbs were fractured, and he could 
 not, without assistance, get them into the house. Soon, 
 however, mother and Kate reached there, and soon after the 
 doctor and hired man, and they took them into the house, 
 and laid them on separate beds, and the doctor, assisted by 
 my father (who, by the way, was more than half a doctor 
 or surgeon himself), soon reduced the fracture and bound 
 up their bruises. Father then went for the horse, caught 
 him, and put him in the field. He then went to work and 
 did the chores about the house and barn, and mother and 
 Kate took care of the invalids that night. 
 
 As father had as much as he could possibly do on his 
 farm at home, and consequently could not spend any por 
 tion of his time at Mr. Greenwood's, he went in the morn 
 ing and hired a man and his wife, most excellent people, to
 
 ASP ASIA. 23 
 
 go there and take care of them, and do the work about 
 the house. 
 
 In the afternoon of that very day Parson Shaw was 
 riding past. Father stopped him, and related the sad oc 
 currence. He said that although Mr. Greenwood had 
 scoffed at religion, still, if my father thought advisable, he 
 would call on them ; and father encouraged him by all 
 means to do so. 
 
 On the next day Mr. Shaw called on them, and found 
 them suffering great pain ; he gave them a few words of 
 cheer and consolation, and was about to leave them, when 
 Mr. Greenwood earnestly requested him to remain, as he 
 had something to say to him. Said he, " I have not been in 
 side of a church before for twenty years, and now, by going 
 last Sunday, this terrible accident has happened to both 
 wife and me. My first thought, when hurt, was to curse 
 the church, minister and all, but something seemed to 
 operate on my mind which prevented it ; wife said, ' There ! 
 if it hadn't been for your persistency in going to church 
 we should not have been injured ;' but, somehow (and it 
 seemed strange), I couldn't answer as she expected I 
 would, and now your coming here to see us to-day is an 
 other choker for me." 
 
 Mr. Shaw then asked him how he happened to go to 
 church last Sabbath. He replied, " I shouldn't if it had 
 not been for Laura. A few days since she met Aspasia 
 Horton and Bell Jones, and spent an afternoon with them, 
 and the girls were telling stories ; Aspasia told them the 
 story of the fall of man in the garden of Eden, and, 
 either because it was told in Aspasia's peculiar style, or 
 something else, it made such an impression upon Laura 
 that she told it all anew to wife and me, and insisted upon 
 knowing who the man uiid woman were, and where it 
 was, and said we must know all about it, for Aspasia said
 
 24 ASP AS! A. 
 
 our parents would know, and we must ask them. Says 
 wife, ' James, go and get the old Bible, and read it all to 
 Laura.' I asked her where it was ; I did not know that we 
 had one in the house; she said it was up garret, in an 
 old chest, with some papers of no value. Laura ran at 
 once and brought it, and I read to her the whole history, 
 and somehow a strange sensation came over us all. 
 Laura inquired what effect the curse upon Adam had 
 on us, and I was compelled to say that the ministers said 
 we were all in consequence sinners, and under the curse 
 of the law, and under condemnation of death because of our 
 sins ; 'but,' said I, ' I do not believe one word of it,' while 
 I did believe it, and feared in consequence. ' Well,' said 
 Laura, ' the Bible is true, isn't it ?' I replied, 'Yes, I sup 
 pose so.' ' Well, then, I should think it was high time that 
 we were all doing something to get rid of our sins.' At this 
 remark I had a strange feeling come over me, and I could 
 not resist the conviction that I was a sinner, and the more 
 I thought of it the worse I felt, until I spoke to my wife 
 about it, and she said she had a strange feeling come over 
 her also; 'but, law me!' said she, 'it's all foolishness, 
 and we better banish all such thoughts from our minds at 
 once. Laura has been with Aspasia Horton until she 
 has got her head completely turned, and if we don't look 
 out she will make us just as foolish.' But, somehow (con 
 tinued Mr. Greenwood), I could not throw off niy feelings, 
 and last Saturday night, when we sat down to the supper- 
 table, said Laura, 'Pa, why don't you ask a blessing upon 
 the food, same as Mr. Horton and Deacon Jones do ?' 
 This was a stumper ; I was feeling bad enough before, 
 and rising from the table suddenly, as though I did not 
 hear her, I said to wife, ' You need not wait for me ; I 
 must go before dark and see whether I locked the barn 
 doors or not,' I went to the barn, and, dropping upon
 
 ASPASIA. 25 
 
 my knees, cried, ' God be merciful to me a sinner ;' this I 
 repeated several times, and returned to the house, and 
 somehow I felt better than I ever did before ; this was 
 (so far as my recollection serves me) the first time I ever 
 prayed. On returning to tea, said Laura, ' Pa, are we all 
 going to Mr. Shaw's church to-morrow ?' ' Yes,' said I, 
 ' we shall, if we live.' ' No, we sha'n't do any such thing,' 
 said my wife. I made no reply, and Laura burst out 
 crying; and finally her mother said if she would stop 
 crying we would all go to church ; and I thank God 
 that we did, though this terrible accident has happened, 
 for there I heard those precious truths preached by you, 
 the declaration of Jesus, ' I am the way, the truth, and 
 the life,' and that precious truth, ' My grace shall be suf 
 ficient for you.' Oh, I tell you, Parson Shaw, I have been 
 a great sinner, and while you were preaching that ser 
 mon I gave myself to Jesus, and dedicated everything I 
 have to him, and resolved to live and die a Christian. 
 But in coming home, I regret to say, my wife was very 
 petulant, and found a great deal of fault with you, and 
 with me for going to church, and said she'd never go 
 again ; and then Laura commenced crying, and finally 
 wife told her to stop, and she would go again next Sun 
 day. I felt sure that the Spirit of God was at work on 
 her mind, and I silently prayed for her conversion. Just 
 at this time my horse got frightened at a cow that jumped 
 out of the bushes, and ran, and threw us out; and now 
 wife says she believes God did it so that we should think 
 of our sins, and have time, free from the cares of life, to 
 become Christians." 
 
 Mr. Shaw said he never felt more rejoiced in his life, 
 and he talked with them for two hours, read several chap 
 ters in the Bible, and prayed with them. 
 
 The next Sabbath Mr. Shaw related the case in church 
 3
 
 26 ASP AS I A. 
 
 after sermon, and said that Brother Greenwood (he called 
 him brother, now) had considerable hay that must be cut 
 and gathered in, and he presumed other work that should 
 be done, and asked as many men in his congregation as 
 could possibly leave their business to meet him at Brother 
 Greenwood's house to-morrow (Monday) morning, at 
 eight o'clock, with all the necessary tools for cutting and 
 gathering his hay ; and at the appointed time there were 
 about forty men, besides boys, assembled at Mr. Green 
 wood's, and, under the directions of Parson Shaw, they 
 gathered rapidly in bis barn all his hay, and did up all 
 other necessary work. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood were confined to the house a 
 long time, and the first place they rode to, after recovering 
 sufficiently to ride, was to church. 
 
 And on that very first Sabbath they and Laura all 
 united with the church, and it was an impressive scene; 
 all three were baptized, and besides them there were 
 over forty persons who joined the church that day. 
 
 The accident to Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood, and their 
 conversion, was the beginning of a powerful work of 
 grace in our town ; almost every family was visited, and 
 some members made the special subjects of grace ; and 
 this whole work commenced with the story I told the 
 girls in the pine woods by the brook.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "Although unconscious of the pleasing charm, 
 
 The mind still bends where friendship points the way; 
 Let virtue then thy partner's bosom warm, 
 
 Lest vice should lead thy softened soul astray." 
 
 SATURDAY came, when Bell, Laura, Mary and I were 
 to meet in the "pine woods by the brook." Owing to 
 her parents' misfortunes, of course Laura could not be 
 there, so Bell and I went to her house ; and almost the 
 first words Laura said were, "My father has told me all 
 about the snake story, and says God was the owner of 
 the garden, and the name of it was Eden, and the names 
 of the man and his wife were Adam and Eve ; and father 
 and dother both say they are so glad you told us the 
 story." 
 
 I asked her why. She said, " because it had been the 
 means of leading them all to the Saviour." 
 
 Laura said, also, she didn't feel like playing then, and, 
 besides, she must be with her parents to help nurse them. 
 We both understood her feelings, and our sympathies were 
 drawn out toward her, and we volunteered to assist her 
 in administering comfort to her parents, so far as we were 
 able. Thus we spent the entire day, promising, when we 
 left, to repeat the visit, which we did often during their 
 confinement. Thus an enduring friendship was formed 
 between us, which grew with our growth and increased 
 with our years. 
 
 Summer vacation having passed, I again resumed my 
 
 (27)
 
 28 A SPA SI A. 
 
 studies at the district school, which I continued until 
 spring. Then sister Elizabeth, having completed her 
 studies, returned home, and I afterward entered the same 
 seminary. I should have entered at the fall term, but, as 
 sister Kate was to be married on Thanksgiving, mother 
 said she could not endure to have all her daughters away 
 from home during the winter. 
 
 As Thanksgiving drew near, Parson Shaw's visits at 
 our house became more frequent, and about two weeks 
 before Thanksgiving, at a meeting of the sewing-society, 
 at the house of Dr. Goodman, in the village, Jane Fisher 
 took sister Kate aside, and, said she, " We have some 
 private business to talk over, that you had better not 
 hear." 
 
 Kate took the hint, and pretended she had an errand at 
 the store, and, as soon as she left, said Jane, " Ladies, I 
 suppose you all know that Parson Shaw and Kate Hor- 
 ton are to be married on Thanksgiving, and in church, 
 too ; the parson has already rented a house, and I think 
 the society ought to furnish it for them, for he is just com 
 mencing, and is poor, and his salary of a thousand dol 
 lars won't any more than support them, let alone pur 
 chase furniture, and certainly there never was a minis 
 ter who labored more faithfully than he." 
 
 This was received with a hearty response by all ; but, 
 said they, " Jane, how do you know they are to be married 
 so soon?" 
 
 "How do I know it ?" said she ; " don't I know it, and 
 don't I know all that's going on ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Bacon, " you do ; if you do not, then 
 you have changed amazingly." 
 
 " Well," said Jane, " it is fortunate for you that there 
 is one who keeps posted, and can inform you ladies of 
 what is going on."
 
 A SPA SI A. 29 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Woodman, " what shall be done ?" 
 
 Different plans were suggested ; and finally a com 
 mittee of five ladies, with Jane Fisher as chairman, was 
 appointed to call upon the gentlemen of the town the 
 next day and solicit subscriptions, and to meet and re 
 port at an adjourned meeting, then to decide upon further 
 action. At that meeting there were twice as many 
 present as there were at the first. 
 
 Neither my mother nor Kate knew of the adjourned 
 meeting; the ladies purposely kept it from them ; and, had 
 they known it, they would not have been able to be pres 
 ent, as my Uncle and Aunt Horton were visiting us. 
 
 The committee, being called on, reported cash subscrip 
 tions to the amount of twelve hundred dollars ; and, be 
 sides this, Mr. Greenwood subscribed ten cords of wood, 
 Farmer Osgood, a new milch cow, and Deacon Jones, 
 t\vo tons of hay. 
 
 The ladies were all delighted at their success, as well 
 they might be. A good many things were promised by 
 them besides those donations mentioned. 
 
 The questions then arose, what to purchase, and how 
 to get possession of the house without informing the par 
 son, for they intended to take him and Kate by surprise. 
 They finally hit upon the following expedient. 
 
 They sent for Mr. Brown, the owner of the house ; he 
 came at once, and they stated the case to him. He 
 replied, "I have the keys of the house yet, and I will 
 say to Parson Shaw that he must secure board for him 
 self and wife at Mr. Horton's for a couple of months; 
 Mini as soon as I get the house fixed for him I will let 
 him know." 
 
 "Capital !" they all shouted. 
 
 - The committee then proceeded to the business in hand, 
 and before Thanksgiving Day the house \v;is furnished from 
 
 3*
 
 30 ASP AS I A. 
 
 garret to cellar. Mr. Greenwood had drawn his wood 
 and piled it in the shed ; Deacon Jones had put the hay 
 in the barn ; and, on Thanksgiving Day, Farmer Osgood 
 drove the cow into the yard. 
 
 Our family were all at home that day. There was 
 father, mother, John and his wife and little boy, James, 
 William, Kate, Elizabeth, and myself, also Uncle and 
 Aunt Horton from New York; and Parson Shaw was 
 also with us at dinner. We all went to church, leav 
 ing the girl to roast the turkeys. And, so far as the 
 preaching was concerned, people said it was a great deal 
 better than they supposed it would be under the circum 
 stances. 
 
 Directly after the sermon Mr. Shaw came down from 
 the pulpit, and met Kate at the pew-door and escorted 
 her in front of the altar, and they were joined in the holy 
 bands of matrimony by the Rev. Dr. Sprague, from a 
 neighboring town, who had volunteered to perform the 
 ceremony. He was a fast friend of Parson Shaw. 
 
 Mother advised Kate to be married in church, and then 
 no one would feel hurt at not being invited to the wed 
 ding. 
 
 After meeting, Kate asked Jane Fisher to spend the 
 evening at our house ; but she declined, saying she was 
 engaged. Soon after arriving at home, dinner was an 
 nounced, and we all gathered around such a Thanksgiv 
 ing dinner as none but my mother could prepare. There 
 were fifteen in all, for the Rev. Dr. Sprague and his wife 
 came home from church with us. Many were the inno 
 cent jokes at that table, perpetrated at the expense of 
 Kate and Mr. Shaw. 
 
 While at the table, Mr. Brown's boy George rode up 
 to the door on horseback, and handed a letter to the 
 kitchen-girl. She brought it to my father, and remarked
 
 A SPAS I A. 31 
 
 that the boy would wait for a reply. Fattier opened the 
 letter, and read it aloud, as follows : 
 
 "EDWARD HORTON, ESQ. 
 
 " MY DEAR SIR: For your new son-in-law, my beloved 
 pastor, Rev. Mr. Shaw, I entertain the profoundest re 
 gard, and even more, I love him for the brilliancy of his 
 intellect and the depth and ardor of his Christian charac 
 ter ; and in this I do but express the sentiments of this 
 entire community. For your daughter Kate, now Mrs. 
 Shaw, I cannot find language to express the admiration 
 and love entertained toward her by all the ladies of the 
 town; and for yourself, and the other members of your 
 family, I need not assure you of my high esteem. Your 
 friends are desirous your entire family should meet us and 
 spend this evening at the house I have rented to Mr. 
 Shaw, and which I intend he shall occupy so soon as it 
 is in fit condition. Quite likely your family and friends 
 will disperse soon after Thanksgiving is over, and it may 
 be interesting to them to know where your daughter is 
 to reside. We will have the house warmed, and try and 
 make it comfortable and pleasant, and shall expect to see 
 you all. 
 
 " Yours, in behalf of many friends, 
 
 " HORATIO BROWN." 
 
 While father was reading the letter, I observed side 
 glances being cast, first from mother to Kate, then be 
 tween Kate and Mr. Shaw, then between Uncle and Aunt 
 Horton, and between the boys and girls. 
 
 Finishing the letter, said father, " Mr. Shaw, what do 
 you say ?" 
 
 He replied, " It is a mystery to me ; I do not under 
 stand it at all."
 
 32 A SPA SI A. 
 
 But mother winked at Kate, and said she, " I think I 
 do. We will all go." 
 
 So father returned a note, saying- we should all accept 
 the invitation. 
 
 After supper, Kate called mother into " the best room," 
 and said she, " Mother, what do you suppose all this 
 means ?" 
 
 Said mother, " Kate, don't you remember Jane Fisher 
 wanted to have you leave the sewing-society at Dr. Wood 
 man's ? That has something to do with this evening's 
 party ; and, if it was not for the very hard times, as I 
 heard your father say, I should expect they were a going 
 to make you and your husband a present ; but, the truth 
 is, the people are too poor to expect anything from them, 
 by way of presents, until business revives." 
 
 " Oh. yes," replied Kate. " I would not ask one of 
 them for a single penny." 
 
 As night came on, the horses were all harnessed and 
 at the door. There were four carriages of us all, so we 
 drove off down the road, through the " pine woods," and 
 as we passed Deacon Jones's, the deacon and his wife and 
 children were just starting out of the yard in their two- 
 horse carriage, and followed us. 
 
 Arriving at the house, we found it brilliantly lighted, 
 and it seemed as though the whole town was there. On 
 going in, we were greeted by the church-choir singing a 
 thanksgiving anthem, after which we were shown all over 
 the house, which was furnished thoroughly in every room ; 
 crockery and cutlery well stored away upon the pantry 
 shelves; all kitchen arrangements perfect; cellars well 
 stored with potatoes, apples, squashes, etc. We were 
 all led to the wood-shed, where Farmer Greenwood had 
 piled his wood ; from here we went to the barn, and saw 
 the sweet herds'-grass, placed in the mow by Deacon
 
 A SPA SI A. 33 
 
 Jones, and the Farmer-Osgood cow was taking her sap 
 per from a crib full of the same. 
 
 On returning to the house, and being seated in the par 
 lor, Mr. Brown stated "that on behalf of the numerous 
 friends of the Rev. Mr. Shaw and his accomplished and 
 devoted Christian wife, all that they had seen, and one 
 year's lease (free of costs) of the house itself, were here 
 presented to him as a small token of their love." 
 
 Mr. Shaw was so completely overwhelmed by this 
 munificence that he sat speechless, and Kate burst into 
 loud sobs, and, indeed, there were but few dry eyes there. 
 
 I could not help crying as I saw Kate give way. 
 
 After some moments Mr. Shaw rose, and replied, or 
 rather acknowledged the gift, as follows : 
 
 " Brother Brown, and each and all of these messengers 
 of love who have contributed either directly or indirectly 
 to this munificent gift, you have taken us so entirely by 
 surprise, and your benefactions are so liberally bestowed, 
 that I feel wholly incompetent to make to you a befitting 
 acknowledgment. Most surely such acts of love can 
 only flow from hearts divested of selfishness, and ele 
 vated by affection. I fear we are unworthy of being 
 made the recipients of such distinguished tokens of re 
 gard." 
 
 "No, you are not," said Jane Fisher, who stood with 
 a tray in her hand, ready to pass round the cake as soon 
 as the parson finished his speech. 
 
 He proceeded : " lean only say, further, we thank you, 
 one and all ; and we shall ever labor and pray that the 
 richest of God's blessings may descend and rest upon you, 
 and upon this whole community; and such nobility of 
 soul predominating in society will insure the blessings 
 of Heaven upon you all." 
 
 All who could obtain chairs did so ; others stood, and
 
 34 A SPA SI A. 
 
 many were compelled to -leave for lack of room in the 
 house. 
 
 At about nine o'clock the people all bade Kate and her 
 husband good-night, and left for their homes. 
 
 Our family were then left alone, and, after consultation, 
 it was decided that Mr. Shaw and Kate should, from that 
 moment, occupy the house, instead of boarding at our 
 house, as they expected to, and also that Dr. and Mrs. 
 Sprague should spend the night there. This being agreed 
 upon, the rest of us returned home. 
 
 So passed that Thanksgiving. Our friends spent the 
 next day with us, "to finish up the rice puddings," as 
 Aunt Horton said, and then all returned to their homes. 
 The next week Elizabeth returned to the seminary, and 
 I again commenced going to school. 
 
 Winter passed by ; and it was a cold, dreary New 
 England winter, with a great depth of snow, that lay 
 upon the ground until late in spring. 
 
 I took a violent cold, which I was not able to throw off, 
 and which settled into a severe cough, so that I did not 
 get rid of it until the warm weather of summer came ; 
 consequently, I did not enter the Young Ladies' Seminary 
 until the fall term. Bell Jones, Laura Greenwood, Mary 
 Osgood, and myself entered together, which made it very 
 pleasaat, as all others were strangers to us. 
 
 The school-building was quite imposing in its outward 
 appearance, built of brick, three stories and basement in 
 height, and proportionately large upon the ground, front 
 ing the east, with north and south wings ; at the front 
 entrance was a spacious hall and corridors, leading en 
 tirely through the main building, and narrower ones 
 through the two wings, at right angles from the main 
 entrance. 
 
 The house was thronged during " opening day" with
 
 ASPASTA. 35 
 
 scholars and their parents and friends who had brought 
 them hither. We were assigned rooms in the third story, 
 with windows looking toward the south, upon as beautiful 
 a landscape as the eye ever beheld ; the broad river, flow 
 ing majestically through the meadows ; the trees were 
 putting on their beautiful autumn tints, and everything 
 around seemed as though Nature's greatest artist had 
 dipped his pencil in his most exquisite colors, and had 
 painted in such numberless varieties of shades as to ren 
 der the scenery beautiful beyond description. 
 
 Early the following morning the bell sounded, and, as 
 by instinct, we quickly arose, and hastened our toilets, 
 and, at the sound of the second bell, the girls all left their 
 rooms, and were directed into the large dining-room, and, 
 before sitting to the tables, we were addressed by the 
 principal of the semhiary, as follows : 
 
 " Young ladies, your parents have sent you to me to 
 be instructed and fitted for usefulness in life ; and by my 
 individual efforts, and by the aid of my assistants, I shall 
 spare no labor nor pains to make you as proficient as pos 
 sible in all the sciences to which you shall devote your 
 attention. But remember the words of the old poet, 
 ' Earn thy reward ; God gives naught to sloth,' and 
 bear in mind that the few months or years you are to 
 spend with me is precious time, and that if you neglect 
 these golden opportunities and waste your time in idle 
 ness, you will have it to regret in after-life." 
 
 We then sat down to a breakfast of plain but substan 
 tial fare, and, after breakfast and worship, repaired to our 
 rooms to await the call to examination, which was held 
 during the day. 
 
 There were over three hundred scholars, and of that 
 number there were aliout seventy new ones. I soon 
 formed acquaintances, and many that afterward became 
 very dear friends.
 
 36 ASP ASIA. 
 
 The first few weeks of our school passed off quietly, 
 nothing of note occurring to disturb the equilibrium of 
 our minds and interrupt our thoughts of home. 
 
 As many of the girls were comparative strangers to 
 each other, a certain degree of reserve was manifested 
 by nearly all, and those of us especially who had just 
 entered the seminary were intent upon our studies (at 
 least, it was so with me), that we might stand well in 
 our recitations and thus command the respect of the lady 
 principal and teachers. 
 
 Winter at last came upon us, and with it evening 
 parties, public lectures, held in the town-hall, and an oc 
 casional sleigh-ride was enjoyed. 
 
 The principal of the seminary, Miss Haywood, was in 
 appearance one of those precise, conservative ladies who 
 feared to give expression, either by word or act, to the 
 real sentiments of her soul, lest she would seem undignified 
 and thereby fail to convey that impression of awe which 
 ladies who occupy such positions seem to think is essen 
 tial. The result was that, while all feared her, none loved 
 her : consequeotly, there was no filial obedience. The 
 teachers, on the whole, were genial and sympathetic, often 
 engaging with the girls in their innocent evening sports. 
 
 Agreeable to promise when I left home, I wrote one 
 letter each week to my parents, and as regularly received 
 replies from them, all of which I have preserved with 
 care, for the valuable lessons of instruction they con 
 tained, and the deep, parental solicitude manifested upon 
 every page. And if young ladies could all realize fully 
 the depth of paternal love, and the deep anxiety of parents 
 for their welfare, I am sure there would be fewer erring 
 ones than there are. And, exposed to temptations as I 
 was while at the seminary, I very much fear that had it 
 not been for those frequent missives of love from home, re-
 
 A SPA SI A. 3t 
 
 plete with wisdom, I should have gone astray, or at least 
 so far neglected my opportunities as to have caused me 
 sincere regrets in after-life ; and, when hearing other girls 
 remark that they had not heard from home for several 
 weeks, I could but think that their parents either from igno 
 rance neglected an important duty, or were wholly devoid 
 of that degree of solicitude which ought always to be ex 
 ercised by parents for their children. And, being naturally 
 of a philosophical turn, I took pains to note the progress 
 of certain girls with whom I was the most familiar, and 
 I found it an invariable rule that those who lived the 
 nearest, in correspondence, thought, and affection, with 
 their friends at home, were the most proficient scholars. 
 I also soon learned another important fact in this connec 
 tion, which was, that those girls who often rece : ved 
 letters from their parents received more attention than 
 others from the principal ; for the postman, who delivered 
 the letters to the seminary, was charged to deliver them 
 to no one but herself : thus she was aware of all the cor 
 respondence, and never, until she had inspected the en 
 velopes, did she send them to the rooms where they 
 belonged. 
 
 With my close application to studies, frequent and 
 regular correspondence with my parents, occasional let 
 ters to and from my brothers and sisters and other friends, 
 my time was thoroughly occupied ; consequently, I saw 
 but little, comparatively, of Miss Haywood, at least saw 
 her but seldom out of school-hours, during the first two 
 months which I spent at the seminary. 
 
 One evening, late in the winter, I was sitting in my 
 room alone, reading over the second time a precious letter 
 received from my mother (my room-mate being at an 
 evening party, to which I was also invited), when I heard 
 a gentle rap at my door, and, on opening it, I quite um-x- 
 
 4
 
 38 ASPASIA. 
 
 pectedly met Miss Hay wood. She came in and seated 
 herself. I was so greatly surprised at this unusual oc 
 currence that I knew not what to say. She seemed to 
 observe my embarrassment, and at once handed me a 
 letter, saying, "Aspasia, I have another letter from your 
 father for you." I thanked her, and remarked that I was 
 just reading over the second time my mother's last letter. 
 She then inquired why I did not attend the party that 
 evening, and if I did not receive an invitation. " Oh, 
 yes," I replied ; " I received a very polite invitation ; but 
 it was the day that I should hear from home, and I pre 
 ferred to stay in my room and read and answer the letter ; 
 but as this letter did not come when I expected, I could 
 enjoy myself no better than in reading over niy mother's 
 last letter." She remarked, "Your parents must indeed 
 cherish for you the highest degree of affection, and I am 
 sure it is fully reciprocated on your part ; and I have be 
 come so impressed at the frequent correspondence between 
 yourself and your parents, and also your rapid progress 
 in your studies, that I am persuaded you will do credit to 
 yourself, and honor your parents and this institution ; and 
 I have called upon you this evening, I presume unexpect 
 edly to you, to assure you of my special regard; for 'vir 
 tue earns its own reward ;' and if I can be of any special 
 service to you at any time, you are at liberty to send for 
 me or call at my room. And in your next letter to your 
 parents give them my regards, and say to them that by 
 their faithfulness to their daughter they have placed me 
 under obligations." 
 
 She kissed me a good-night, and retired, and, for sev 
 eral moments, I sat as one that dreamed. I could hardly 
 believe it was a reality that the august presence of the 
 lady principal of the seminary had manifested herself in 
 my room; but, dropping a book I held in my hand, I
 
 AS PAST A. 39 
 
 awoke from my reveries, and seizing my father's letter, 
 which Miss Haywood had so kindly brought me, I tore 
 open the envelope, and hastily read as follows : 
 
 " MY AFFECTIONATE DAUGHTER ASPASIA : Your highly 
 esteemed letter of the 25th ultimo reached us on the 27th, 
 and would have been answered that same evening but 
 for press of business, which absolutely prevented. Your 
 mother and myself have read and re-read the letter, as we 
 do all of your precious letters. Dear daughter, you cannot 
 fully appreciate the real happiness you confer upon us by 
 your frequent letters ; and to know, as we do, that our 
 dear child, away from home, in the company of so many 
 young and lively ladies, and introduced to so many gay 
 and lively scenes to which hitherto you were a stranger, 
 is still so deeply attached to her parents as to neglect 
 every other pleasure for the privilege of frequent corre 
 spondence, every line of which breathes forth the greatest 
 depth of filial affection, is, I assure you, a consolation and 
 pleasure that none but a parent can appreciate and under 
 stand. And, independent of the joy which it brings to us, 
 we are glad to know that you value your privileges, and 
 have fully resolved to improve every moment you are to 
 spend at the seminary to become highly educated, and thus 
 be prepared for usefulness in life, and enjoy the bliss of 
 heaven in just that much greater degree ; for I believe that 
 saints in glory will immediately enter upon degrees grad 
 uated according to their intellectual attainments; and that 
 is one reason if not the reason why our Lord seemed 
 to place so much importance upon the cultivation of the 
 talents he had given to men, and led him to utter the par 
 able of the talents. 
 
 " You wrote that you were invited to an evening party 
 on Tuesday. Wo suppose you will accept the invitation ;
 
 40 A SPAS I A. 
 
 but, whether you do or not, we wish you to remember 
 that your time is comparatively short at the seminary, 
 and that, after you have completed your education, you 
 will have the capacity to learn more from society in one 
 week, or at least in one month, than you now can in an 
 entire year. And your mother and I have concluded to 
 take you and Elizabeth and spend your next summer's 
 vacation at the sea-side. We can, therefore, only urge 
 upon you, what we know you will perform, viz., the 
 closest attention to your studies. 
 
 " With a father's love, 
 
 "EDWARD HORTON." 
 
 I folded the letter, with my eyes nearly blinded with 
 tears of gratitude and love, and, it being late, retired for 
 the night.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " When virtuous thoughts warm the celestial mind, 
 With generous heat each sentiment's refined; 
 Th' immortal perfumes breathing from the heart, 
 With grateful odors sweeten every part. 
 
 "But when our vicious passions fire the soul, 
 The clea.rest fountains grow corrupt and foul; 
 The virgin springs, which should untainted flow, 
 Run thick, and blacken all the stream below." 
 
 IT was a saying among the ancient Grecian philoso 
 phers that no master could be found that was qualified to 
 instruct others in virtue. One of them, referring to the 
 beauty and attractiveness of youth, by reason of dress 
 and perfumes, inquired of Socrates, " But as for you and 
 me, who are past the age, what ought we to possess ?" 
 and received an answer replete with wisdom: " Virtue 
 and honor." 
 
 As I peruse the pages of Grecian history, and study 
 the profound philosophy taught by the men of wisdom 
 and culture of that nation in that dark and dreary age, I 
 can but admire and venerate them ; and if some of them 
 were not righteous before God, they come so very close to 
 it that I am unable to distinguish the difference between 
 them and Christians ; for, surely, if Christians lived as 
 fully up to the light they enjoy as many of the ancient 
 Grecian philosophers did, we should witness a far greater 
 degree of true piety and godly sincerity evinced in their 
 daily life than we now do. And, while they lamented 
 that no man was capable of teaching virtue, we, who live 
 
 4* (41)
 
 42 ASPASIA. 
 
 under a Christian dispensation, have One, the man Christ 
 Jesus, who is able to teach his fellow-man virtue. 
 
 I was led to the foregoing reflections by a conversation 
 I had with one of the girls at the seminary during my 
 first year. Her name was Rose Blackwell ; her parents 
 resided in Boston, and were very wealthy, and, as I gath 
 ered from her in frequent conversations, she had (to use 
 a homely phrase) " had her own way ever since she was 
 born." When she was quite young, if she wished for 
 anything, and was refused, all that was necessary on her 
 part was to cry, and she was sure to get it. Of course 
 she soon learned that she could be the master, or, rather, 
 mistress, of any situation in which she might be placed, 
 and, following an immutable law, as she grew older her self- 
 will grew more stubborn, and her filial attachments weaker, 
 until she had become so obdurate and willful that she 
 was always unhappy, and a very disagreeable companion. 
 She 7/as very fond of dress, and her milliner's and rnantua- 
 makcr's bills were enormous. But, to use her own lan 
 guage, " Law me ! Avhat do I care ? father has plenty of 
 money, and it can be appropriated to no better purpose." 
 She had a great dislike to study, and could not endure 
 quiet reflection. I have heard her say she would rather 
 go deranged, and lose her reason entirely, than to be 
 compelled to sit down alone and think. As may be in 
 ferred, she was exceedingly morose ; and, notwithstand 
 ing all these disagreeable traits of character, she was very 
 attractive to strangers, for Nature had endowed her with 
 a good intellect, perfection of form and feature, added to 
 which, her splendid dress made her the center of attrac 
 tion among strangers wherever she went, all which was 
 pleasing to her vanity and flattering to her pride, and, un 
 consciously to her, increased her haughtiness and self- 
 will.
 
 AS PASTA 43 
 
 Although I never associated with Rose more than 
 courtesy demanded, yet we had become pretty well ac 
 quainted; and I could not resist the conviction that, from 
 some unexplainable cause, she had taken a great fancy 
 to me. 
 
 It was not because I flattered her, or courted her com 
 pany; for, while that was true of many in the seminary, it 
 was not of me, for I never did either. I rarely, if ever, 
 held conversation with her for five minutes at a time that 
 I did not upbraid her for her evil deeds ; and I never 
 sought her society. 
 
 One Sabbath, being ill, I did not attend church ; my 
 room-mate did. Thus I was left alone. Soon after, all 
 who were going to church had left the seminary, some 
 one rapped loudly at my door. I at once opened it, feel 
 ing a little vexed that my solitude should be disturbed ; 
 and who should it be but Rose Black well ? I invited her 
 in and to a seat. 
 
 Being seated, she inquired, " Well, Aspasia, how hap 
 pens it that you do not attend church to-day ?" 
 
 I replied that I felt quite ill, and therefore unable to go 
 out. " But," said I, " why are not you at church ?" 
 
 "Well," said she, "that is one thing I have come to 
 talk with you about; but, if you are too ill, I will return 
 to my room and call upon you at another time." 
 
 I thought within myself, "Now, here is an opportunity 
 to do good. God has kept me from church to give this 
 young lady an opportunity, it may be, to unburden her 
 soul to me, and possibly acknowledge her errors and ask 
 for advice." 
 
 I therefore replied, that I was not so ill but that I 
 should be pleased to converse with her if I could do her 
 any good. 
 
 "Yes," said she, "there it is again. Do any good !
 
 44 A SPA SI A. 
 
 I never in my life saw a girl that was always so intent 
 upon doing somebody some good as you are ; but, to tell 
 you the truth, I want to have a good long talk with you, 
 whether it does either of us any good or not." 
 
 " Well," said I, " speak on. Unburden your soul, Rose, 
 if you have anything to say; but, mind you, I want 
 none of your nonsense." 
 
 " Nonsense !" said she. " What do you call nonsense ?" 
 
 " I will tell you. There has scarcely been a conversa 
 tion between us that you have not spoken ill of many of 
 the girls in the seminary, and rarely, if ever, spoken well 
 of one. And you have thrust upon me your skepticisms 
 of religion, when you very well knew it was not only 
 annoying to me, but you must have known it caused me 
 pain. You have made light of religion, and ridiculed my 
 professions. Now, all this is nonsense. You yourself 
 do not believe you are right. You are dissatisfied with 
 yourself. Your soul is not at rest. There is a disquiet 
 ude which of itself renders you unhappy, and, unless 
 you change your course, will end in your complete ruin." 
 
 " Well," said she, "it is unusual to preach a sermon 
 without a text ; but you have done it, sure." 
 
 "No," I replied, "for your everyday life, since you 
 have been in the seminary, has been a living text to me, 
 and I have longed for an opportunity to preach you this 
 sermon, as you style it. Not that I have the least idea 
 you will heed it, but to discharge my duty to you ; for I 
 should love to see you a better girl. And were you to 
 put away your evil habits and thoughts, and change your 
 whole course of life, with the wealth and influence you 
 can command, your strong will and persistency of pur 
 pose, you can accomplish a vast amount of good, and 
 also be respected and loved by every one ; while now 
 there are many weak-minded ones who flatter and fawn
 
 A SPA SI A. 45 
 
 around you simply because of the elegance of your dress 
 and the great wealth your father possesses. There are 
 very few, if any, who sincerely love you, whose affection 
 is so deep and lasting as that they would cling to you 
 even though cold adversity should come upon you ; and 
 come it may, for aught you or I can tell ; and should it 
 come, you will then feel the need of true friendship." 
 
 To this she replied, " You are pretty severe with me. If 
 I really thought I was as bad as you have represented, I 
 should be driven to despair. I really wish I had not 
 called on you. But, somehow, I fancied you were my 
 real friend ; and you have conducted yourself in such an 
 unostentatious manner and apparent consistency with 
 your professions that, as you very well know, the entire 
 school has come to respect and esteem you, myself among 
 the rest." 
 
 To which I replied that I was not aware that I had 
 merited any special respect ; that from principle I meant 
 to so conduct myself as to command at least an ordi 
 nary degree of respect from all my acquaintances ; and I 
 assured her that my severe criticisms upon herself were 
 not prompted by a desire to wound her feelings or ren 
 der her unhappy, but solely because she possessed attri 
 butes of mind which, if rightly directed, would make her 
 a loved and lovable lady. 
 
 "Well," said she, "if I am in so ill a state, you cer 
 tainly ought to understand the remedy. What is your 
 prescription ?" 
 
 " You must first subdue your stubborn will, and realize 
 fully that other girls in the seminary possess equal rights 
 with you in all respects ; that birth and wealth in reality 
 have nothing at all to do in determining the status of a 
 person in society, and that there is but one standard to 
 measure people by, which is, intelligence and moral worth.
 
 46 AS PASTA. 
 
 You must love to do good and hate to do evil ; and, to 
 understand what good and evil are, you must study the 
 Bible attentively, for you can learn it nowhere else. And, 
 so far as the fleeting pleasures of this life are concerned, 
 you must bring yourself to feel and realize that all such 
 is vanity; and, with your flatterers about you, and the 
 evil influences to which you are constantly exposed, I can 
 only warn you against them in the language of the old 
 poet: 
 
 " See, Vice, preventing every wish, appears 
 To lead through down-hill paths and gay parterres 
 Where Pleasure reigns ; while Virtue, decent maid, 
 Retires from view in yon sequester'd shade. 
 Craggy and steep the way to her abodes ; 
 Fatigue and Pain, by order of the gods, 
 Stern sentry keep. But if nor pain nor toil 
 Can check the generous ardor of thy soul, 
 Exert thy powers, nor doubt thy labor's meed. 
 Conquest and joy shall crown the glorious deed." 
 
 She sat for a moment in silence. At last she spoke. 
 
 " You reason like a philosopher ; and I confess I never 
 before received so severe a lesson ; and I did not know I 
 was so bad and unlovable, neither was I aware that my 
 acquaintances thought me so. I supposed that in order 
 to be admired I must be gay and thoughtless, and that to 
 command respect I must assume an air of haughtiness ; 
 but, if your philosophy is correct, it teaches directly the 
 reverse." 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " it is true ; and you will yet ac 
 knowledge it to me; for I am fully convinced that you 
 are dissatisfied with your course of life, have promised 
 yourself that, if you could obtain aid and sympathy from 
 others, you would amend your ways ; and I assure you 
 I will aid you with all my power. You shall have my
 
 ASP A SI A. 47 
 
 warmest sympathy; and I believe I do but express the 
 feelings of very many of the young ladies in the semi 
 nary." 
 
 To which she replied, " You surprise me. You could 
 not have read my thoughts more correctly had they been 
 recorded in a book ; I thank you most sincerely for this 
 interview, and shall ponder upon what you have said, 
 and assure you I take it kindly, for I know it has been 
 spoken in the spirit of love ; I beg the privilege of another 
 interview at your future convenience." 
 
 I replied that I should be pleased to see her at my room 
 at her convenience. By this time the girls were return 
 ing from church, she retired to her room, and I put up a 
 silent prayer to Jesus that he would send his guardian 
 angel to watch over her and shield her from tempta 
 tion, that the Holy Spirit would strengthen her resolu 
 tions, show her clearly her duty, and give her strength 
 to perform it. 
 
 It may seem strange that in this my first conversation 
 I did not endeavor to impress more forcibly upon her the 
 absolute necessity of repentance of sins and confession 
 before God But my reason was, that, knowing as I did 
 her bitter hostility to religion, had I taken that course at 
 the first I should have repelled her, and probably been 
 unable to regain her confidence ; whereas, as subsequent 
 events have proven, by the wisdom given me of God, I 
 did right ; for, without detailing subsequent conversations 
 (and we had many, and very happy ones), I will simply add 
 that Rose became a devoted Christian, and that through 
 her efforts her parents were both converted. She married a 
 wealthy merchant, who was an active Christian; and, her 
 parents both dying at about the same time, she became 
 sole heiress to her father's estate, Ihc entire amount of 
 which she appropriated to the service of her Lord and
 
 48 ASP AS I A. 
 
 Saviour Thus she became the almoner of God's bounty, 
 to feed the hungry and clothe the naked ; and in after- 
 years, as the sequel will prove, I myself, in poverty, was 
 made the recipient of bounties most generously bestowed, 
 verifying the truth of Scripture, " Cast thy bread upon 
 the waters, and thou shalt find it again after many days. " 
 Thus the few crumbs of truth that I was permitted to 
 sow in her heart did indeed, by the grace of God, ripen 
 into a glorious harvest.
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 SPRING came, and with it all nature awoke from the 
 cold sleep of winter. The beautiful bluebirds were the 
 early messengers from a southern clime to announce that 
 spring-time had come. Soon following them, the robin- 
 redbreast sent up his notes of joy, that the season had 
 permitted the return of himself and mate to the happy 
 home he had enjoyed the past season, and where they 
 reared their little family of warblers. 
 
 The grass grew green in the meadows. The herds 
 that had been confined within the yards or stalls, as 
 within prison-walls, during a long and cold winter, were 
 now let foose in the pastures, and, by awkward antics, 
 gave expression to their joy at being free again. The 
 orchards, ornamental trees, and forests were being again 
 clothed with luxuriant foliage, all typical of the spring 
 time of life, when hope is buoyant, the affections fervent, 
 the soul alive with energy, and the physical system full 
 of life and vigor. 
 
 As the warm weather came on, I began to count the 
 days that intervened before the close of the term and my 
 return home; for of all places on earth there was to me 
 no such place as home, " the dear old home." And now, 
 in after-years, while meditating upon my childhood days, 
 with vivid recollections home scenes cume fresh to my 
 uiind, and I almost wish I were a girl again. 
 
 5 (49)
 
 50 A 3 PA SI A. 
 
 " When I long for sainted memories, 
 
 Like angel troops they come, 
 If I fold my hands and ponder 
 
 On the dear old home ; 
 To that sweet spot forever, 
 
 As to some hallowed dome, 
 Life's pilgrim bends his vision 
 
 To his dear old home. 
 
 "A father sat, how proudly then, 
 
 By that dear hearthstone's ray, 
 And told his children stories 
 
 Of his early manhood's day ; 
 And one soft eye was beaming, 
 
 From child to child 'twould roam; 
 Thus a mother counts her treasures 
 
 In the dear old home. 
 
 " The birthday gifts and festivals, 
 
 The blended vesper hymn, 
 Some dear ones, who were swelling it, 
 
 Are with the seraphim. 
 The fond 'good-nights,' at bedtime, 
 
 How quiet sleep would come 
 And fold us all together, 
 
 In the dear old home. 
 
 " Like a wreath of scented flowerets, 
 
 Close intertwined each heart, 
 But time and change in concert 
 
 Have blown the wreath apart ; 
 But sainted, sainted memories, 
 
 Like angels ever come, 
 If I fold my arms and ponder 
 
 On the dear old home." 
 
 At last the term closed, and that was a lively day at 
 the seminary. Such leave-takings ! for while all longed 
 to be freed from the monotony of school life, and for
 
 ASP AST A. 51 
 
 home, still attachments had been formed which caused 
 deep regrets at the final parting. 
 
 My father came for me in his carriage. I saw him 
 coming up the road, and ran to meet him. I could not 
 wait until he should reach the house ; he seemed dearer 
 to me than ever. 
 
 My trunk was packed all ready to leave on his arrival, 
 so that he was detained but a few moments, just long 
 enough for the " hired man" to place it in the carriage ; 
 while I was putting on my things, he was expressing his 
 gratitude to Miss Haywood for her kindnesses to his 
 daughter, assuring her of his appreciation for all the 
 special favors so generously granted, and that he hoped 
 for an opportunity to reciprocate, assuring her that, if life 
 and health were spared, I should return to the seminary 
 at the commencement of the fall term, and complete my 
 education under her care. 
 
 We were soon seated in the carriage, and rapidly jour 
 neying toward home, where we arrived in due time, and 
 were greeted by mother, brothers, and sisters, as none 
 but a loved one could be ; in turn, I shed tears of joy 
 upon meeting the dear ones at home once more; even 
 old Rover, although growing aged and indolent, mani 
 fested all the emotions of joy the poor brute was capa 
 ble of. 
 
 All those young ladies who have spent their first years 
 away from home, and at a boarding-school, will appreciate 
 my feelings at this time. 
 
 My father hastened with his work, that we might all 
 enjoy the promised journey and spend a season at the 
 sea-side ; and, in the mean time, I occupied myself by as 
 sisting in the house-work, visiting at sister Kate's, call 
 ing upon and entertaining friends. In a few weeks my 
 father gave brother William such advice and directions
 
 52 ASPASIA. 
 
 concerning the management of affairs, that he could leave 
 the business with him, and we prepared for the journey. 
 
 Elizabeth determined to be fashionable, and " create a 
 sensation" (as she laughingly said), "at least among the 
 baggage-men, if nowhere else," and persuaded father to 
 purchase a Saratoga trunk of the largest size manufac 
 tured, and was anxious I should also have one, but I pre 
 ferred my little old trunk. Upon packing, however, she 
 soon found she had quarters to let, for, with our views of 
 economy, one such was sufficient for the entire family; so 
 it was finally concluded that mother, sister, and myself 
 would enter into joint occupancy of "the trunk," and 
 father could take a satchel. This pleased him, because 
 he could carry it, and then have but one piece of baggage 
 to look after, and that one so enormously large, there 
 was no more danger of losing it than there would be of 
 losing an ordinary-sized story-and-a-half dwelling. 
 
 Mother suggested that father have his name painted 
 on each end ; but this was objected to. There was 
 an old sign painted in large Roman letters, in black, 
 upon white ground, "G. Horton." This sign had been 
 lying in the garret for many years, it being one that 
 my father had on his store years previous. William 
 suggested that it be nailed on Elizabeth's trunk. This 
 was objected to, lest some burglar, mistaking it for 
 a dry-goods or millinery store, might possibly break in, 
 and, by his robberies, seriously embarrass us. It was 
 finally concluded to place a card on each end with 
 father's name ; and, thus equipped and furnished, we 
 started on our summer tour. Upon getting "the trunk" 
 checked at the depot, the agent, who was well ac 
 quainted with father, and was, withal, a genial, kind- 
 hearted, and obliging gentleman, looked with astonish 
 ment at our baggage ; and said he, " Mr. Horton, we
 
 A SPA SI A. . 53 
 
 shall have to charge you two dollars extra for the trunk." 
 And iu vain did my father attempt to convince him that 
 that was most decidedly against public policy; that there 
 were four of us, and only one trunk. " True," he said, 
 " but it is a very large one, and I would handle six com 
 mon-sized trunks in preference to one of those things." 
 Father paid him two dollars extra, and took his check, and 
 we w r ere soon off for Albany. Nothing of note occurred 
 on the way. The cars did not fly the track ; there were 
 no broken rails or drunken engineers ; and, I think, but one 
 young man was killed by the train that day, which was 
 considered by the train-men of little importance. " He was 
 only a track laborer," the conductor said. This expres 
 sion sent a thrill of horror through my soul, and I re 
 peated it, " Only a track laborer." But was he not a 
 man ? Perhaps he had a mother, wife, or children, that 
 were the sharers of his daily earnings, and who would 
 mourn and lament his death and their irreparable loss. 
 
 Arriving at Albany, father handed his check to the 
 omnibus agent in the cars, and designated his hotel ; and, 
 soon after being shown to our rooms, a porter handed a 
 note to father, which he found, on opening, was a charge 
 of one dollar for handling extra baggage. He was truly 
 indignant, and went directly to the office to explain, and 
 stated that there were four of us and but one trunk. But 
 the clerk could not afford him any assistance, and he paid 
 it and returned to his room. By this time, Elizabeth was 
 beginning to dislike the sensation her trunk was creating; 
 though but little was said; it was all for fashion. Some 
 people seem to enjoy disappointments, useless expense, 
 and great annoyances, if it is in the cause of fashion ; but 
 it didn't sit well upon any one of us. 
 
 We spent a few days very pleasantly in Albany, visit 
 ing friends and seeing the city, and took the cars for 
 
 .-,*
 
 54 A SPA SI A. 
 
 Montreal. And this time, to avoid the annoyance, father 
 handed the porter a dollar extra to put the trunk on board 
 the cars; but, when he came to procure his check, he had 
 another extra baggage bill to pay. Were it not that father 
 was an even-tempered, philosophical sort of a man, I am 
 sure he would have lost his patience with Elizabeth for 
 urging its purchase ; but not a murmur escaped his lips. 
 
 Arriving at Montreal, and ever after on the journey, 
 father inquired of each porter and baggage-man who 
 handled " the trunk," " How much charge for extra bag 
 gage ?" and immediately paid their price. 
 
 In due time we left Montreal for " the States," again 
 by rail, and on our way were so unfortunate, and yet 
 fortunate, as to encounter an accident. 
 
 My father always, if possible, avoided either the first 
 or i he last car in a train if there were more than two; for, 
 he said, the first was the most liable to an accident which 
 might happen to the engine, and the last was liable to be 
 thrown from the track by rapidly turning the curves; but 
 when we arrived at the depot it was late, and we took 
 seats in the first car we reached, which was the rear one 
 in the train. After we had traveled a couple of hours 
 or so, while running rapidly on a down grade, following 
 the zigzag course of a mountain brook, and while swiftly 
 rounding a curve, the last car (in which we were riding) 
 was whirled off the track, and rolled completely over 
 down the hill, and came near landing us all in the brook. 
 Such a jumbled-up mess as we were! The car was filled 
 with passengers, and in an instant, as it were, we were 
 hui'led over the embankment, and rattled against the 
 sides, top, and bottom (as one man said), " like cobs in a 
 corn-sheller." I felt a good deal as the Irishman did, 
 who was accidentally knocked down. Some one asked 
 if he was dead. "No, indade," said he, "I'm not dead, 
 but spacheless."
 
 AS PAS I A. 55 
 
 The car finally landed on its side. The train was 
 stopped as soon as possible, and ran back to us, the 
 passengers all left the other cars in haste, to render those 
 in ours assistance. All were taken or helped out in a 
 few moments. Of course the car was badly broken, and 
 although a majority of the passengers escaped in a miracu 
 lous manner from receiving serious injuries, yet many 
 were injured, and some, it was feared, fatally. Thanks 
 to a kind Providence (but no thanks to the engineer or 
 conductor), our party escaped comparatively uninjured. 
 Mother and Elizabeth sustained slight bruises only. But 
 the groans of those who were seriously hurt were indeed 
 painful. Yet, amid the horrors of the catastrophe, there 
 were many ludicrous scenes ; one in particular. A gen 
 tleman, apparently about fifty 3 r ears of age, with his wife 
 and two grandchildren, occupied the two seats back of 
 me, and I could not avoid observing their movements on 
 the journey ; for although the children were old enough 
 to have put up with regular meals, yet at every station 
 the woman would trot her husband out with a white 
 glass bottle for milk and a handful of eatables for the 
 darlings. And when the stations were frequent, he would 
 object; but one snappish word, and her sarcastic look, 
 was sufficient: he went, and thus revealed the fact that 
 he had surrendered all his manhood (if he ever had 
 any) to a woman wholly void of culture and destitute 
 of grace. 
 
 In freeing the passengers from the debris that was piled 
 over and about them, this woman was taken out, consid 
 erably scared, but not much "hurt." Her first inquiry 
 was for "John" (her husband). She was informed IK; 
 had not yet been found. "Well," said she, "I suppose 
 lie's dead, poor soul; nobody is to blame but he; I novel- 
 should have come but for him. I suppose the bottle
 
 56 A SPA SI A. 
 
 is broke, too ; that's one my mother gave me, and I sot 
 store by it." Her husband seemed first in her mind, 
 because he was a thing of service to her; the bottle 
 next, because it was an heirloom. 
 
 The wounded were quickly put on board the train, and 
 taken to the nearest station and cared for in a manner so 
 well understood by railroad officials. 
 
 It is really surprising to see how the apprehension of 
 heavy damages operates to develop congeniality and sym 
 pathetic love. Such spontaneous gushes of tender-heart 
 edness are truly affecting. The love of money, or, having 
 it, the fear of losing, goes far toward smoothing down 
 the rough edges of a character otherwise morose and 
 unapproachable ; and my experience teaches me that 
 there are a great many persons of this character in every 
 community. None but motives of supreme selfishness 
 can ever draw from them expressions of sympathy. 
 Their heart is like an iceberg, and, as we approach them, 
 an icy chilliness comes over us. And what a relief and 
 pleasure it is to change the society of such for those 
 whose every word and look is an expression of sympathy 
 and love, and, whatever the circumstances or position 
 in life of the suffering ones, their hearts are ever open to 
 permit the ready exercise of tender emotions, which at 
 once and always are manifested by good deeds ! 
 
 As soon as the injured passengers were discharged from 
 the cars, at the nearest station from the place where the 
 accident occurred, the train again started on its trip, and 
 we were whirled along at a furious rate (yet without fur 
 ther accident) to the end of our journey, arriving at our 
 
 hotel at in the evening, dusty and fatigued. 
 
 Father at once ordered supper of sea diet. And such a 
 supper! Roast mackerel, baked salmon, clams, whortle 
 berries, and fruits in abundance; and, as we were greatly
 
 ASP AS I A. 5t 
 
 fatigued and hungry withal, we were as voracious as an 
 army of bashiquas, and I thought I never tasted any 
 thing half so rich ; but, after spending a few days there, 
 and becoming accustomed to this diet, I found it like 
 other pleasures or blessings of life, that we are apt to 
 lose our appreciation of them by constant enjoyment. 
 
 We spent several weeks at this place, and the most of 
 the time the weather was delightful : there were a great 
 many visitors at this sea-side town, and we formed many 
 agreeable and profitable acquaintances. We occupied 
 our time in sea-bathing, fishing, strolling over the hills, 
 and in entertaining and being entertained by guests of the 
 various hotels and a few citizens of the town with whom 
 we formed acquaintance. 
 
 It was amusing to one who could occupy a private box 
 as I did, and, with a quizzing-glass, have full opportunity 
 to criticise those who were playing upon the stage of 
 fashion, to note the different temperaments, dispositions, 
 habits of thought, rule of life, judgment, and tastes for 
 dress. 
 
 There was the honest, unassuming, prudent gentleman 
 and lady, of which my father and mother were fit repre 
 sentatives. With all such (and there were many) we en 
 joyed ourselves greatly. They were uniformly intelligent 
 and communicative, and conversation with them was both 
 pleasant and profitable. This class made no show, and 
 created no sensation (as it is usually termed) : still, they 
 commanded and received great respect. 
 
 There was another class, who were originally very 
 poor, but, by energy and a favorable turn of Fortune's 
 wheel, had become wealthy. Many such were affable 
 and unassuming; but, to use a homely expression, the 
 shoddy would stick out, in the mother and daughters es 
 pecially ; and such gewgaws as they would pile on,
 
 58 A SPAS I A. 
 
 without any taste or judgment, but wholly ignoring all 
 chaste and refined rules of dress by the piling on of trink 
 ets ! One would suppose that the height of their ambition 
 was simply to outshine some one, forgetting that it is the 
 fixed stars which shine with the greatest brilliancy and 
 whose scintillations are the most observed. Occasionally 
 one of those flirting little meteors will pass over the glass 
 of the astronomer; but it does not attract his attention, 
 nor cause him to withdraw his gaze from those greater 
 and more luminous orbs. 
 
 There was still another class of gentlemen and ladies, 
 of great wealth, who inherited fortunes, and have, not 
 withstanding their extravagances, continued to increase 
 those fortunes. These were generally good-natured 
 people, quick of apprehension, at the same time court 
 eous and polite, but careful not to admit within the inner 
 circle of their acquaintances any but those who were rich 
 in ancestral estates. These were the remnants of the old- 
 school aristocracy, which, I am pleased to know, is fast 
 dying out in this country. 
 
 There was still another class of wealthy people, who 
 were ignorant and selfish ; who never gave to chanty, 
 never paid the price asked for any article, and, unless 
 they could hire a carriage for less than others cheerfully 
 paid, would go to the beach on foot. They seemed will 
 ing to suffer any amount of inconvenience to gratify their 
 avarice. They all, parents and children, seemed to have 
 been most thoroughly educated in this school. They 
 were despised and shunned by all except congenial 
 spirits, and even between them there was really no re 
 spect. 
 
 Then there was the flirt and her fop, come down from 
 the city to view the countraw. It was impossible to 
 judge correctly of the pecuniary standing of this class,
 
 ASPASIA. 59 
 
 but, from their conversation and manners, I judged they 
 were poor, and always had been, and were sure to re 
 main so, for, without exception, they were illiterate and 
 shallow-brained. The simple fact that they were poor 
 in this world's goods was not to their discredit; far from 
 that; but being so, and attempting to palm themselves 
 off upon strangers as persons of wealth and character, 
 is like dealing in counterfeit three-cent currency: if it 
 is discovered on your hands, the loss is so trifling that 
 the transaction passes without a thought or reflection. So 
 with this last class of persons referred to. They simply 
 attract the same attention that counterfeit currency does, 
 and they are as readily detected and as readily pass out 
 of use. 
 
 Then there was the morose old bachelor, wrapped up 
 in his selfishness. He rode every day alone in the best 
 carriage the livery afforded ; seemed to spend money 
 freely, and, in his way, I have no doubt, enjoyed life. 
 But it's an odd way. With him society was nothing only 
 so far as it contributed to his selfish enjoyments. Such 
 men remind me of an occasional tree, standing solitary 
 and alone in the midst of one of the vast prairies of the 
 West ; all about and beneath it was dry and barren, yet 
 there it stood, neglected and alone. Contrast this with 
 the trees in the forest, nursery, or orchard : clustering to 
 gether, they spread their luxuriant foliage to catch the 
 dews of the night, pouring the same upon the tender 
 herb beneath and around them, and, by their life-giving 
 principles, the tender plants spring up all about them, and 
 under their shade, either to be transplanted in some beau 
 tiful garden, or take the place of the original tree when it 
 decays. 
 
 Then there were gentlemen and ladies who belonged to 
 the genuine aristocracy ; I mean an aristocracy of worth,
 
 60 -4 SPA SI A. 
 
 where the goddess of Virtue reigns ; whose hearts are 
 full of love ; who are religious from principle, and are 
 in all things what they profess. True, there are men and 
 women of this class of different temperaments ; some so 
 sanguine, and a little nervous withal, that they are very 
 frequently misjudged by those of an opposite tempera 
 ment, and vice versa. Yet carefully keep watch of them 
 all, and we discover that, without ostentation, they do and 
 perform those duties which none but the Christian does. 
 We hear them in their closets, " Lord, subdue my stub 
 born will," " Increase my faith," " Heal all my backslid- 
 ings, and forgive all my sins." And, even though at the 
 sea-side for pleasure, we find them at the weekly prayer- 
 meetings of the village church, encouraging the few faith 
 ful ones in their Christian duties, both by precept and ex 
 ample. 
 
 Such, and even a still greater variety of characters, did 
 we find and meet with while at the sea-side ; and the " les 
 sons in life" which I read then and there have been of 
 great service to me. 
 
 I cannot close my notes upon this sea-side visit without 
 detailing a conversation I had with a gentleman and two 
 ladies, who called at our rooms the last Wednesday even 
 ing we were there. All had gone to the prayer-meeting 
 but myself. Feeling slightly ill, I remained at home ; and 
 Mr. Goodspeed and the two Miss Graves called to spend 
 the evening. They were well-educated people, affable and 
 kind-hearted, but were mere moralists ; did not believe in 
 the divinity of Christ. 
 
 On inquiring for my sister Elizabeth, and being in 
 formed that she, with my parents, had gone to the 
 prayer -meeting, and that I was prevented only by slight 
 indisposition, Mr. Goodspeed remarked, "I had formed 
 an exalted opinion of yourself and sister, and did not
 
 A SPA SI A. 61 
 
 suppose you were so foolish as to deprive yourselves of 
 the pleasures of life by doing- penance." 
 
 "Sir," said I, "although I think I enjoy life as heartily 
 as any person, still my happiest moments are those when 
 brought nearest my Saviour ; and frequently I get strayed 
 so far away from him, while running after the glittering 
 toys of earth, that I need to be brought into close fellow 
 ship with Christians, and feel the influence of their hearts 
 (as they are manifested in love, faith, and repentance) 
 upon my own, to quicken me to duty, and cause me to 
 anchor still stronger than ever to Jesus, the rock of my 
 salvation." 
 
 "Well," said one of the ladies, "since your parents and 
 sister are at the prayer-meeting, and religion seems to be 
 a favorite theme with you, we should be pleased to hear 
 your views upon two or three points that we think call 
 for a little explanation : 
 
 " First. How can God consistently hold the heathen 
 responsible for not serving him, without ever providing 
 them with a written religion and informing them of 
 Jesus Christ, their Saviour, or, at least, whom you or 
 thodox call a Saviour ? 
 
 " Second. Where is the fairness in God's withholding 
 his Saviour from men for four thousand years, and still 
 sending them by millions down to hell (as you profess to 
 believe) for being sinners? 
 
 " Third. If God is all-powerful, how does it happen 
 that the devil has so many more devotees than God ? for 
 certainly, if the world comes to an end so soon as is 
 preached, according to your theory the devil will have 
 much the largest company, and the all-powerful and 
 strongest ought to meet with the greatest success. 
 
 " I have asked these questions often, and have never 
 yet received a satisfactory answer." 
 
 6
 
 62 A SPAS I A. 
 
 I replied that I felt a little delicacy at attempting to 
 answer questions covering such broad grounds and involv 
 ing theological truths of so momentous importance ; yet, 
 presuming they would not expect a full discussion of all 
 the points involved, I would proceed to answer in as 
 concise a manner as possible. 
 
 "And, first, God was under no obligation to man, in any 
 sense of that term. He first created him perfectly pure 
 and holy as one of the angels before his throne. At the 
 game time he gave him, as one of the necessary elements 
 of a moral being, free agency, or the exercise of his own 
 will. He placed him upon this earthly paradise, for the 
 whole earth before the fall was a paradise, when fitted for 
 the abode of man, God's representative on earth (' God 
 looked upon it and saw that it was good'), and sur 
 rounded him with everything that was beautiful and cal 
 culated to stimulate the holiest emotions of his soul. 
 But, alas ! he sinned, and the earth was cursed on ac 
 count of that sin ; and as sin had come into the world, 
 so came death ; for God had forewarned the man that if 
 he sinned against him he should surely die, having es 
 pecial reference to the death of the body, from which 
 there can be no escape ; for God, who is the author of all 
 law, had established a law that a single transgression on 
 the part of Adam, man's first representative on earth, 
 should render the physical system mortal and subject to 
 disease, pain, and death ; and the transgression also 
 brought upon the soul of the transgressor eternal death. 
 In the economy of God's grace, such effects of the fall 
 could not be entailed upon men of succeeding ages. 
 Hence it was early said, ' The wicked shall die for his 
 own sins;' 'The soul that sinneth, it shall die.' In view 
 of this, God at once directed Adam to seek repentance 
 for his sin, and to offer a sacrifice typical of the great sac-
 
 ASP AS I A. 63 
 
 rifice prepared for men after they had had sufficient time 
 to test their own vain philosophies and theories. So here, 
 at the very outset, God established his religion, and made 
 the first man, a converted sinner, a preacher ; and he had 
 many eminent preachers all the way down to the time of 
 the flood. Everything was done that could consistently 
 be, by God, to bring men to love and obey him. But 
 no: they chose their own wicked ways; and even the de 
 scendants of Noah, immediately after leaving the ark, 
 having been preserved from destruction in that miracu 
 lous manner, became great idolaters, and that, too, while 
 their father was yet a preacher of righteousness and men 
 were but few upon the earth. God then commenced send 
 ing his prophets as preachers, as he does nowadays, among 
 the people to preach to them ; and the burden of all the 
 preaching, from Adam to Christ, was repentance and 
 faith on the Lord God, who was to come and offer him 
 self a sacrifice to answer the demands of justice, in order 
 that God might pardon the sinner. And the people in 
 all those ages were enjoined to offer a sin-offering of the 
 blood of animals, as typical of Christ's great sacrifice that 
 was to be made. The only difference between the doc 
 trines taught then and since Jesus came, are, that since 
 Christ died, repentance for sins and faith in a crucified 
 and risen Saviour are preached now. Then, where is 
 the injustice of God ? He had done all he could, con 
 sistent with man's free agency, to flood the world with 
 the saving light of truth, but men were too obdurate to 
 receive it, and hence the condemnation has been the por 
 tion of a vast majority of all who have lived on the 
 earth, not because God desired it, or withheld any 
 means or influences which he could consistently bestow 
 or bring to bear upon men, but wholly of their own 
 choosing. From Adam to Noah, and from Noah to Moses,
 
 64 A SPA SI A. 
 
 and from Moses to Christ, in all ages, men of superior 
 talents, and eminent for their piety, of their own choice 
 became preachers of righteousness and missionaries among 
 the different nations ; and we find these men were not con 
 fined to any one tribe or nation. For instance, we find 
 Job, of the land of Uz, one of God's most perfect ser 
 vants, a man of great wealth and commanding position, 
 so wealthy, so noble, and so devoted to God, that God 
 himself said of him that there was none like him on the- 
 face of the whole earth. And from the fact that so re 
 nowned and wealthy a man as Job was a servant of God, 
 we may presume there were many thousands of his people 
 who were also righteous before God. Also the visit of 
 the three Edomite princes, friends of Job, to condole \vith 
 him in his deep affliction, and the language used by them 
 makes it evident that they were reared under religious 
 influences ; and from the high character, standing, and 
 great wealth of Job, we are led to the conclusion that his 
 friends were of royal blood; therefore, religiously, as well 
 as politically, they were representative men of the nation. 
 
 "Again, Melchizedek, one of the ancient kings, cotem- 
 porary with Abraham, yet, without doubt, possessing 
 greater wealth and influence, was also a priest of God, as 
 well as a king of great power and influence. Hence I 
 conclude that his subjects must have been religious. 
 
 "Again, as we peruse the pages of ancient history, 
 we are forced to the conclusion that Plato and very 
 many of those old sages lived as near to God as the 
 dim light of nature would guide them, and that Soc 
 rates died a martyr to the eternal principles of virtue 
 and religion. 
 
 "And so soon as the Holy Spirit, by the vision, had 
 removed the bigotry from the mind of the Apostle Peter, 
 he made the astounding announcement ' that in every
 
 A SPA SI A. 65 
 
 nation he that foaroth God and worketh righteousness is 
 accepted with him ;' and this is in harmony with the dec 
 laration that ' the heathen are without excuse.' 
 
 " In answer to your third interrogatory, although it 
 may be true that more souls have perished than have 
 been saved, this will not be the final result; for ' the king 
 doms of this world shall become the kingdoms of our 
 Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign for ever and 
 ever ;' and at the announcement the elders before the 
 throne of God 'fell upon their faces, saying, We give 
 thee thanks, O Lord God Almighty, which art, and wast, 
 and art to come, because thou hast taken to thee thy 
 great power, and hast reigned.' And it is added by the 
 
 revelator, ' And the nations were angry, and 
 
 shouldest destroy them which destroy the earth.' By 
 this latter clause I understand that, at the commencement 
 of Christ's millennial reign, those nations and peoples who 
 have persisted in opposing the religion of Jesus will be 
 angry at the rapid success of Christianity, and that the 
 Spirit of God will destroy the influences of Satan and his 
 spirits who destroy the earth ; for sin not only destroys 
 the soul, but also the earth, for before sin entered into 
 the world the earth brought forth of its own seed every 
 thing that was good, and only good. 
 
 " And as to the world coming to an end soon, I am 
 aware that many have preached that the ' end of all 
 things is at hand.' And so it is with many a person and 
 people, as it was with the Jewish nation at the time those 
 memorable words were uttered. But it is revealed to us 
 that before the end of the world Christ shall reign on 
 earth a thoiisai (1 years. By this we are not to under 
 stand ten hundred of our years; for 'a thousand years 
 is with the Lord as one day, and one day as a thousand 
 years.' And, in the fulfillment of prophecy, this is the in-
 
 G6 ASP AS I A. 
 
 variable rule for measuring God's time. So it was in the 
 creation. Hence I believe that Christ is to reign supreme 
 in the hearts of men on earth during three hundred and 
 sixty-five thousand of our years; and, owing to this 
 peaceful and happy condition of society throughout the 
 world, deaths by disease will be less frequent, and never 
 occur by violence. Consequently, the inhabitants of earth 
 will be multiplied to thousands of millions, until the mul 
 titudes who shall worship Jesus shall be so great that no 
 man nor angel can number them. And thus, at the day 
 of judgment, those who shall go away with Satan to ever 
 lasting punishment shall be as a drop of water to an 
 ocean, when compared with those who shall partake of 
 Christ's kingdom and reign as kings and priests with 
 him forever " 
 
 " Well," said the lady who propounded the interroga 
 tories, "your answers and explanations are exceedingly 
 interesting, and are new to us ; and I confess that never 
 before have these points been satisfactorily explained, and 
 we cannot gainsay your arguments." 
 
 As the evening was far spent, they departed, and soon 
 after my parents and sister returned from the meeting, 
 and after our evening oblation we all retired for the 
 night. 
 
 The next day we were taking leave of friends and pack 
 ing "the trunk," preparatory for our departure for home, 
 whither we reached that same week. 
 
 Thus ended our sea-side visit; and it was not without 
 its beneficial effects upon our physical health ; and we 
 trust that we gained in knowledge and in religious 
 growth, and that we were able also to impart blessings 
 to others.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "How swiftly glide life's transient scenes away ! 
 Like vernal leaves, men flourish and decay. 
 Thus sung, in days of yore, the Chian bard; 
 This maxim all have heard, but none regard. 
 None keep in mind this solitary truth, 
 Hope still survives, that flatters us in youth. 
 What fruitless schemes amuse our blooming years ! 
 The man in health nor age nor sickness fears; 
 Nay, youth's and life's contracted space forgot, 
 Scarce thinks that death will ever be his lot. 
 But thou thy mind's fair bias still obey, 
 Nor from the paths of virtue ever stray." 
 
 SOON after reaching home from my sea-side visit, I 
 commenced preparations for my return to the seminary. 
 
 I entered at the commencement of the fall term ; and 
 many were the happy greetings as the young ladies as 
 sembled in the large hall of the building on that opening 
 day. 
 
 One of the first to greet me on my return was Rose 
 Blackwell ; and I saw at a glance there had been a radical 
 change in her, and it was so patent as to be the subject 
 of general remark. 
 
 During this my second year in the seminary I visited 
 in the neighborhood but little, devoting myself assidu 
 ously to my studies. Nothing of special interest tran 
 spired, and at the close of the spring term I again returned 
 home, but, alas ! not to enjoy the pleasures of home, as 
 formerly. 
 
 My mother (God bless her memory !) was taken ill
 
 68 A SPA SI A. 
 
 with a bilious attack just before I reached home. Dr. 
 Woodman was called, and, on seeing her, " thought he 
 would be able to break up the fever," and "that she 
 would soon be about again." But it was not so. The 
 disease had gotten fast hold of her, and, having a strong 
 constitution, all the energies of her system volunteered 
 their aid in endeavoring to throw off the disease, and 
 thus the fever increased ; and, when I arrived at home, 
 she was so ill that she was obliged to have watchers by 
 her bedside constantly. 
 
 I had been at home but a few days when the doctor 
 informed my father that he feared mother would not re 
 cover. It fell like the shock of an earthquake upon my 
 father. For thirty-one years had my parents lived together 
 most happily, and their souls were knit together as the 
 soul of one. They loved each other with a love as endur 
 ing as life; and their children loved them quite as ardently. 
 
 As soon as the doctor left, father called together all the 
 family, consisting of brother William, Kate, Elizabeth, and 
 myself, and informed us of the sad intelligence. And, oh, 
 what sadness came over us! And, amid our sobs and tears, 
 we knelt, and father prayed most fervently that, if it were 
 possible, this cup of affliction might pass from us ; never 
 theless, if it was God's will that our dear mother should 
 be taken from us, we might have grace to bear up under 
 the great affliction. After drying our tears, that we might 
 not needlessly excite mother, we all repaired to her room 
 and gathered about her bed. She understood the mean 
 ing of it perfectly ; and, taking father's hand, she said, 
 " My dear husband and children, you think I am about to 
 die : I am also aware that I have but a few days at the 
 longest, and perhaps a few hours, to live with you here. 
 But, although my body will die, and you will bury it out 
 of your sight, my soul will put on newness of life.
 
 AS PAS I A. 69 
 
 " Oh, my dear husband and children, although it 5s try 
 ing for us to part as we are about to, yet how glorious to 
 know that we are all Christians ; that we are to meet 
 again in that bright world beyond the flood, where Jesus 
 is ; that we shall all be permitted to join in praising our 
 Redeemer forever ; there shall be no sin, sickness, sor 
 row, or death ! Methinks I hear the angels singing for 
 joy that I am so soon to be welcomed into that blissful 
 abode. 
 
 '"I would not live alway, I ask not to stay 
 
 Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way.' " 
 
 My mother seemed perfectly calm during all this time, 
 while we were all overwhelmed with grief. She re 
 quested father to pray that we might all be strengthened 
 to endure the trial, and that Jesus would manifest him 
 self especially to her, and that he would go down into 
 the dark waters with her, and bear her safely above 
 them, and land her on the shores of that beautiful coun 
 try that needs neither the light of the sun nor of the 
 moon ; " for the glory of God will lighten it, and the 
 Lamb is the light thereof." 
 
 Word was sent that day by post to John and James, 
 and they arrived the next day ; and there was not a mo 
 ment that some of us were not by our dear mother's bed 
 side ; and, oh, such joy as was manifested in her every 
 look and word ! For, while it pained her to leave her 
 loved ones behind, still, she longed to be with her Sa 
 viour. Then it was that I realized the force of those 
 words, " Let me die the death of the righteous, and let 
 my last end be like his." 
 
 Mr. Shaw spent nearly all the time at our house during 
 the last few days of mother's sickness. She died on Sat 
 urday morning. Many of the neighbors were in and
 
 70 ASP AS I A. 
 
 about the house at the time ; and, oh, what floods of grief 
 were there poured forth ! 
 
 Soon after her death, Deacon Jones requested of father 
 that the corpse might be taken to the church for the fu 
 neral services on the Sabbath ; for the whole towns 
 people would feel her loss deeply, and would wish to at 
 tend the funeral and take the last look of one so highly 
 respected and loved. 
 
 To this father consented ; and Mr. Shaw preached the 
 funeral sermon, based upon the following texts of Scrip 
 ture: 
 
 " Behold, he taketh away. Who can hinder him ? who 
 will say unto him, What doest thou ?" " If a man die, 
 shall he live again ?" 
 
 I will not undertake to give a synopsis of the discourse ; 
 for I was so filled with grief that I could remember but 
 portions of it. 
 
 Upon returning home that day, after we had laid the 
 body of our dear mother in the grave and buried it out 
 of sight forever, we felt lonely and sad, and we all gathered 
 about our father, and said to him, "Now our dear mother 
 has gone to heaven, and there is none to divide with you 
 your children's love, and we now pledge you our siricerest 
 affection, doubly increased for you, our dear father and 
 only parent." And we all fell upon his neck and kissed him. 
 
 During the summer which followed, the superintendence 
 of the affairs of the house devolved upon sister Elizabeth 
 and myself ; and at the commencement of the fall term 
 I again entered the seminary. This being my last year, 
 I applied myself to my studies, if possible, with greater 
 diligence than previously ; and the death of my dear 
 mother rendered me lonely, and at times given to melan 
 choly, which was increased in consequence of the con 
 stant tax upon my mental faculties.
 
 A SPA SI A. 71 
 
 Miss Hay wood, observing this, took the very wise pre 
 caution to divert my mind as much as possible, and in 
 sisted that I should cultivate the mirthful element of my 
 nature, and thus counteract the deleterious effects of my 
 deep affliction and close application to books; for which 
 I have often felt grateful, for I am persuaded that had I 
 continued in the same frame of mind long in which I 
 wan when I entered upon that term, I should have early 
 followed my mother to the spirit-world. 
 
 A short time after the commencement, I received a 
 letter from Rose Blackwell, conveying the very pleasing 
 intelligence that she was about to be married, and, conse 
 quently, should not return to the seminary as she ex 
 pected, also sending a very polite invitation to me to 
 attend her wedding. I at once wrote my father to learn 
 his wish concerning it, and received his hearty consent. 
 
 I then wrote to Hose that, by and with the consent of 
 my father, and most happily to myself, I accepted her in 
 vitation, and should leave for Boston on the morning of 
 the day previous to the wedding. At the same time, I 
 informed her of my mother's death. 
 
 At the appointed time I took the morning train for 
 Boston to attend the wedding, arriving there at four 
 o'clock P.M. Was met at the depot by Rose in her 
 father's splendid carriage, and we were driven to her 
 father's house, where I was as warmly welcomed as 
 though I were one of their own children ; and when 
 Rose introduced me to her mother as her dear friend 
 Miss Ilorton, said Mrs. Blackwell, "Pardon me, Miss 
 Horton ; please allow me to call you by your Christian 
 name, Aspasia; for husband and myself could not love 
 you more tenderly were you our own dear child, for your 
 great kindness '<> Hose, and the immense good you have 
 done us through your influence upon her."
 
 72 A SPAS I A. 
 
 Of course I consented, and remarked that, if I had 
 been the humble instrument of good to them, she must 
 give God the glory, it was all his ; and I thanked her 
 kindly for her generous expressions of love, assuring 
 her that it was fully reciprocated. I also said that my 
 state of mind had been such, owing to close attention to 
 my studies, and the deep affliction I was called to endure, 
 that I felt as though I needed a change for a day or t\vo 
 at least ; but, after all, I should not have accepted a like 
 invitation from any other friend. To this she replied 
 that Rose had given her the painful news of my 
 mother's death, and that, while it was sad to think of, and 
 an irreparable loss, still we should receive it as an admo 
 nition, "Be ye also ready." 
 
 Soon Rose and I were left by ourselves in the draw 
 ing-room, and said I, "Rose, now tell me all about the 
 gentleman you are to marry, who and what he is, and 
 how you happen to be married just now." 
 
 " Well," said she, "last summer I went with my parents 
 to the sea-side to spend the season. I met there very 
 many of my former gay companions, and they endeavored 
 to lead me off into all sorts of frivolities ; but, seeing I 
 was not thus inclined, they abandoned me wholly, and for 
 several days my only society (and it was that which I 
 especially desired) was that of my parents. They felt 
 very unpleasantly about it ; but I remarked that it was 
 only for a short season, and the associations of such were 
 really of no practical benefit to any one. 
 
 " There was a gentleman stopping at the same hotel 
 with us, of courteous bearing, apparentl} 7 a man of wealth 
 and refinement, and very fine-looking also, yet he never 
 seemed to seek or relish the society of the gay and thought 
 less. My father formed his acquaintance in a political dis 
 cussion, which was participated in by several, and father
 
 A SPA SI A. 73 
 
 was so favorably impressed with him that he invited him. 
 to call on us, which he did on the next day. At his first 
 visit, we were all pleased with his appearance; as he 
 left, I ventured to accompany him to the door, and gave 
 him a polite invitation to repeat his visit, and to come 
 as frequently as agreeable to himself, and that, too, 
 without the least formality. And he availed himself of 
 my invitation to the fullest extent; for he called morning, 
 noon, and evening, at any and all times in the day. We 
 walked together and rode together, and both say we never 
 enjoyed ourselves so well as then. The result was, he 
 asked me to marry him ; and, as I had anticipated him, 
 and obtained consent of my parents in advance, I replied 
 at once, and without the slightest hesitation, that I would, 
 with all my heart. 
 
 " Now as to who and what he is. He is George Shep 
 herd, a wholesale dry-goods merchant on Milk Street, 
 
 in this city, and is a deacon in the Church, and, 
 
 although young (twenty-eight years of age), he is very 
 wealthy. A large fortune was left him by an uncle, who 
 amassed wealth in the East India trade, and he has been 
 constantly adding to it. His habits of prudence and 
 economy have enabled him to give large sums for chari 
 table purposes without impairing his necessary capital in 
 trade; and he says he believes 'it is more blessed to 
 give than to receive,' and that he has never felt so well 
 satisfied with himself as when he has just been called 
 upon to contribute to some charitable object. You shall 
 have an introduction to him this evening, as he will be 
 here. " 
 
 Evening came, and Mr. Shepherd called, as was ex 
 pected ; and he proved in appearance just what my mind 
 had fancied; a little above the medium height, spare- 
 built, a noble countenance, genial and yet commanding 
 
 7
 
 74 ASP AS I A. 
 
 in his appearance, a quick, penetrating look, and a physi 
 ognomy which indicated a sagacity of judgment, gener 
 osity, reverence, and deep-toned sympathy ; and, alto 
 gether, he was at sight my beau ideal of a man, and, 
 upon acquaintance, I found him very agreeable in con 
 versation, intelligent and communicative, without re 
 serve or affectation. 
 
 Toward the close of the evening, after we had become 
 somewhat familiar, he inquired why I was not looking up 
 a husband. I replied that I had resolved to complete 
 my education, as it was the wish of my mother when 
 living, and was still the desire of my father, that I should. 
 lie then remarked that he had a gentleman friend who 
 would want a good wife some time, and he would be 
 pleased to introduce him on the morrow, if agreeable to 
 me. I replied that I should certainly be pleased to form 
 the acquaintance of his friend, and inquired his name. 
 He replied it was Mr. Goodspeed. " Goodspeed, Good- 
 speed,-' said I to myself. "Where have I ever heard 
 that name ?" And, for the life of me, I could not 
 recollect. 
 
 The morrow came : it was New-year's-day ; a fine 
 New England winter day. A new and deep snow had 
 fallen. 
 
 As I looked out of my window in the morning upon 
 the beautiful white crystals, as they lay snugly banked 
 together, I could but think it was in harmony with the 
 purity of soul of my dear friends who were about to be 
 joined in the holy bands of matrimony. 
 
 Evening came, and the invited guests early assembled, 
 and at the appointed time Mr. Shepherd and Rose came 
 into the room. The guests all arose as they entered, and 
 welcomed them. Soon after the performance of Ihe wed 
 ding ceremony, the friends who were invited to the recep-
 
 AS PAS I A, 75 
 
 tion began to arrive, and the festivities of the occasion 
 were continued until a late hour in the evening. 
 
 Mr. Shepherd was true to his promise, and introduced 
 me to his friend Mr. Goodspeed. I found him a very 
 agreeable gentleman, and very attentive ; and, upon part 
 ing that evening, he requested the privilege of correspond 
 ing with me, which I freely granted, as there need not, of 
 necessity, any evil result from it, for I could discontinue 
 it at any time. 
 
 The day after the wedding I left for the seminary, and 
 as I parted from Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell, and Rose and 
 her husband, they poured forth a flood of tears ; and, 
 loading me with valuable presents as a more substantial 
 testimony of their love, I was taken to the train in their 
 sleigh, and* was soon on my way back to school. I 
 reached there in safety before nightfall. The next day 
 I resumed my studies. 
 
 Nothing soon occurred of unusual interest, except it 
 may be a correspondence between Mr. Goodspeed and 
 myself. 
 
 A few days after my return from the wedding, I re 
 ceived the following: 
 
 " No. SCHOOL STREET, 
 
 " BOSTON, January 6, 18 . 
 
 " MY DEAR Miss ASPASIA HoRTON : Referring to the 
 few happy moments I was permitted to enjoy your com 
 pany at the brilliant wedding of our mutual friends, at 
 Mr. Blackwell's, in this city, a few days since, and your 
 kindness in permitting me to open a correspondence with 
 you, I now venture to address you; and, I confess, it is 
 not without serious misgivings that I do so. Your friend 
 Rose, now Mrs. Shepherd, has spoken of you in such ex 
 alted terms that I fear an uncultured expression may
 
 76 A SPA SI A. 
 
 find a place upon this sheet and be detected by your 
 quick vision and scholarly attainments. I need not as 
 sure you of my profound regard, nay, more, of my most 
 ardent love, and I beg the privilege of frequent corre 
 spondence, trusting my expressions of esteem and love 
 may find a response in your heart, and that you will 
 favor me with your letters as oft as possible. 
 
 " Anxiously awaiting your reply, 
 
 " I am affectionately yours, 
 
 "MORGAN GOODSPEED." 
 
 On reading the letter, I burst into a loud laugh. " What 
 a goose!" said I to myself. "My most ardent love!" ha! 
 ha! "Well, well," thought I, "this is Young America, 
 surely. Never saw him but once, nor he me; and yet he 
 not only entertains ' profound regard' for me, but even 
 loves me most ardently." Said I to myself, " Young gen 
 tleman, if your heart is so vulnerable, you may get fooled 
 one of these days." 
 
 My way always is, if I have anything undone that is 
 to be done, to at once set about doing it. So, when I 
 receive letters from friends, I answer them immediately, 
 and this for two or three reasons: first, the news con 
 veyed in the letter received, and to which I am to reply, 
 is always of more intei'est to me while fresh than after 
 it has lain upon my table for a week, and therefore it is 
 that I can indite an answer of more interest to my friend; 
 and, second, if I reply immediately to a letter received, 
 my friend takes it as evidence on my part that I appre 
 ciate his letter ; and, third, upon the general principle, 
 Avhich has ever been the rule of my life, " whatsoever 
 thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might." 
 
 Acting upon this principle, I said to myself, "Although 
 I think Mr. Goodspeed a little imprudent, yet he may be
 
 AS PAS I A. 77 
 
 honest, at all events. He is the friend of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Shepherd, and I must reply : so here it goes." And I 
 scribbled off the following : 
 
 SEMINARY, January 9, 18. 
 
 " MORGAN GOODSPEED, ESQ., School Street, Boston : 
 
 "Mv DEAR SIR: Your favor of the 6th came by to 
 day's mail, and I have just read it with interest. 
 
 " With pleasure does my mind revert to the brilliant 
 party at Mr. Blackwell's, and I am pleased to offer you 
 expressions of gratitude and esteem for your courteous 
 and gentlemanly attentions at that wedding, and espe 
 cially as I was but a country lady amidst the sparkling 
 city belles. But your letter flatters me. I really feel as 
 though either your judgment is at fault, or I must have 
 unconsciously put on counterfeit charms; for I cannot 
 conceive why, amidst all the splendor that was shown 
 forth by the ladies that evening, you should, in reality, 
 have become so enamored of me. So far as future cor 
 respondence is concerned, I should not, for the present, 
 object; for, if we can be of any real service to each other, 
 we shall both be in the discharge of our duty. 
 
 " Be pleased to remember me to Mr. and Mrs. Shep 
 herd as you have opportunity, 
 
 "And accept my high regards. 
 
 " Truly, yours, 
 
 " ASPASIA HORTON." 
 
 Being upon the last half of my last year at the semi 
 nary, I was just commencing the study of mental phi 
 losophy, moral science, geology, and history of litera 
 ture, besides perfecting my Latin and Greek readings; 
 , I was compelled to work very hard at mv 
 7*
 
 78 A SPA SI A. 
 
 studies, and, until near the close of the term, I declined 
 all invitations to visit out of the seminary. 
 
 One afternoon I found a note from the principal, Miss 
 Haywood, on my table, to the effect that she wished to 
 meet the young ladies of the seminary to converse upon 
 general topics of interest and to a general debate, intend 
 ing it for the development of their argumentative powers, 
 and, if they possessed any talents in that direction, she 
 would endeavor to make it both pleasant and profitable ; 
 that but three or four ladies could argue upon a subject 
 each evening, while the others could listen, and decide 
 the question at the close. That the first meeting would 
 be held in the large hall that evening, and she had des 
 ignated myself, with two other young ladies and herself, 
 to carry on the debate; that I must not fail to attend; 
 she would announce the subject for discussion at the 
 opening of the meeting. 
 
 I looked through my portfolio, found the letter received 
 from my dear father that morning, and hastily answering 
 it, handed it to the postman, who just then called for 
 letters for the mail, and prepared myself for tea.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 EVENING came, and I repaired to the large hall, and 
 found the young ladies all assembled. 
 
 A table and four chairs stood in the center of the hall. 
 Miss Haywood was seated at the table, leisurely turning 
 the leaves of a bock, apparently reading, but really to 
 relieve herself from the gaze of the young ladies who 
 were seated around the room. 
 
 Shortly after I entered, she arose from her seat, and 
 addressed the meeting in a short speech, as follows : 
 
 " It has been a deep study with me how, or in what 
 manner, or by what process, I can be instrumental in 
 fitting my young ladies for society. What is needed in 
 the education of young ladies is a moral and intellectual 
 training to take the place of the dancing-school and fit 
 them to adorn the parlor or drawing-room. If, with 
 their knowledge of the arts and sciences, they could, by 
 practice, acquire the faculty to communicate that knowl 
 edge with ease and grace, they would find themselves 
 the center of attraction at every social entertainment ; for 
 in every company there are found those who are fond of 
 discussion, some for diversion, some to hear themselves 
 talk, 'and who e'en though vanquished will argue still,' 
 and others from a desire to acquire and impart informa 
 tion ; and though a large portion of the company may be 
 gay, light-headed, and trifling, vet they will respect a 
 sound reasoner nevertheless. 
 
 (19)
 
 80 A SPAS I A. 
 
 " It is for this purpose, young ladies, that I have called 
 this meeting; I propose to hold others once each week 
 during the remainder of the term, as one of the regular 
 exercises of the seminary. 
 
 "I shall not, in any case, give intimation of the subject 
 to be discussed until at the opening of each meeting ; for 
 my object is to stimulate your conversational powers and 
 make you ready talkers." 
 
 She then named the debaters for that evening (myself 
 being one of them), requesting them to be seated at the 
 table. On taking our seats, she announced the following 
 subject for discussion, viz.: 
 
 " Which are the most potent, the seen or the unseen 
 forces?" 
 
 " Miss Julia and myself will assume that the seen 
 forces are the most potent, and Aspasia and Bell may 
 argue in favor of the potency of the unseen forces. 
 
 " And, to proceed, in support of my theory that the 
 seen forces are the most powerful, I am not to be con 
 fined to my own limited vision, but to range through 
 history, at least, to search it so far as the limited time 
 will allow. 
 
 " In glancing over the history of the dead past, we 
 start with the achievements of the ancient Egyptians. 
 The erection of those vast monuments of grandeur and 
 power, mounting up to heaven, even the modus operand! 
 of their construction, is far beyond our comprehension : 
 yet it was a seen force which transported those immense 
 blocks across the sea and elevated them to so great alti 
 tudes. Again, visit with me that rich and elegant city, 
 Babylon, the boastful queen of cities. The accounts we 
 have from history of its wealth, its immense walls, its 
 vast extent, its magnificence, are more like Oriental fancy 
 than real historical facts. Walls that were originally over
 
 A SPA SI A. 81 
 
 three hundred feet high, seventy-five feet broad, and sixty 
 miles in circumference. One temple (Baal, or Belus) was 
 half a mile in circuit, and forty rods, or six hundred and 
 sixty-three feet, in height. And for the gratification of 
 one of its queens, who had been brought from the mount 
 ains of Persia, her lord, the monarch of the city, erected 
 hanging gardens in the midst of the plain, tier after tier 
 resting upon arch above arch, all covered to a great 
 depth with the rich soil of the plain, and planted with the 
 floral beauties of all lands, this mighty and splendid 
 artificial mountain towering far above the walls of the 
 city, and, consequently, overlooking the vast plain of the 
 Euphrates. Add to this the hundred massive gates of 
 brass which protected the city on the river side. Then, 
 again, its artificial lake, forty miles square, just outside 
 the city. 
 
 " And was not all this grandeur and magnificence of 
 art the result of seen forces ? 
 
 "Then come down with me to the time of the Grecians, 
 when art was in its perfection. Behold the beautiful 
 temple of Diana, one of the wonders of the world, exceed 
 ing in magnificence anything within our conception. Also 
 the Parthenon, celebrated the world over for the beauty 
 of its architecture, grandeur, and magnificence of design. 
 Cross over with me to Rome, and view St. Peter's, the 
 wonder and admiration of the world. 
 
 "Were not all these the production of seen forces? 
 Did not the labor and skill of man accomplish all this ? 
 
 " Come down with me to more modern times. For 
 merly, the only means of communication between per 
 sons at a distance was by posts or signals, and history 
 was written in hieroglyphics. But the genius of man 
 a seen force established, and put in successful opera 
 tion, the printing-press, by which history is recorded with
 
 82 AS PAS I A. 
 
 the rapidity of thought. Yes, and by the operation of 
 the telegraph two continents, separated by the mighty 
 Atlantic, are brought together ; and men, sitting in their 
 offices thousands of miles apart, with the broad ocean 
 intervening, may talk with each other freely and ra 
 pidly. 
 
 "Behold the wonderful bridges spanning mighty rivers 
 and fearful gulfs, dangling in the air like the string of a 
 boy's kite ; yet they sustain and bear across safely im 
 mense railway-trains. Do the people of one of our cities 
 desire pure water, they hesitate not to tunnel for miles 
 under an inland sea, and thus draw from an inexhaustible 
 fountain. 
 
 "And is not all this the work and accomplishment of 
 man, a seen force ? 
 
 "Examine the manufactured fabrics, woolen, cotton, 
 silk, and worsted, in all variety of colors, shades, and de 
 signs. Go into those factories. Examine the machinery, 
 which, apparently, operates by its own volition. 
 
 "And is not all this the accomplishment of the seen 
 force ? 
 
 " I trust, ladies, that I have succeeded in establishing 
 in your minds the fact of the greater potency of the seen 
 over the unseen forces." 
 
 Miss Haywood took her seat amidst the waving of 
 handkerchiefs and clapping of hands. 
 
 She then called upon Bell to answer her. 
 
 Bell excused herself by saying "the arguments pre 
 sented seemed to have exhausted the subject, and she 
 dared not venture a reply." 
 
 Miss Haywood then called upon me. 
 
 I replied that " the closing argument belonged to me, 
 her colleague, Miss Julia, might proceed with her argu 
 ment, and I would close the debate."
 
 , A SPA SI A. 83 
 
 Miss Julia, rising, said, " I shall not trespass upon 
 your time and patience but for one moment. I cannot 
 say anything to strengthen the case so ably presented by 
 my colleague in this argument, and can only add that I 
 deem them conclusive ; and, in view of the rapid pro 
 gress made through the agency of the seen forces in the 
 past, we may believe that such development will be 
 greatly accelerated in the future." 
 
 It now devolved upon me to close the discussion. It 
 was not without great misgivings that I arose, and, 
 wiping the perspiration from my brow, I spoke as fol 
 lows : 
 
 "Young ladies, in discussing this important proposi 
 tion, which has been so ably argued on the other side by 
 our lady principal, I must ask your patience and forbear 
 ance; for, as you are aware, I was wholly ignorant of the 
 subject to be discussed, while, at the same time, it is at 
 least presumable, from the masterly manner in which she 
 has opened the debate, that she had thoroughly consid 
 ered the subject. Be that as it may, I shall endeavor 
 to prove, 'by argument and sound philosophy, that the 
 position assumed by my opponent is untenable, that the 
 unseen forces are vastly more potent and effective than 
 the seen ; and, in discussing this, I am free to acknowl 
 edge my obligations to my opponents for opening up 
 so wide a range for argument; for while they have trav 
 ersed considerably outside the theme actually under dis 
 cussion, it warrants me, in my reply, to follow them into 
 the unexplored fields suggested by their arguments, and 
 thus be enabled to show more clearly not only the effects 
 or results of the unseen forces, but what may be antici 
 pated in the future. 
 
 " We read, ' In the beginning Clod created the heaven, 
 and the earth; and the earth was without form, and
 
 84 ASP ASIA. 
 
 void.' And God said, Let there be light; and there was 
 light.' 
 
 " Now, then, has any argument been presented to us 
 this evening to prove that any seen force is, or ever was, 
 able to call a world into being from chaos, and clothe that 
 world with living splendor and people it with immortal 
 souls ? 
 
 "And was it not an unseen force which accomplished 
 all this ? Has any one ever seen God ? And is he not 
 the great unseen force which sustains, rules, and guides 
 the world ? 
 
 "My opponent has referred, in brilliant language, to 
 the temple of Belus reaching up to heaven ; to the 
 splendor and magnificence of Babylon and its wonderful 
 hanging gardens, over three hundred feet in height ; to 
 the temples of Minerva and Diana, that were the wonder 
 and admiration of the world ; to the Church of St. Peter's 
 at Rome; and to the glorious achievements of men in 
 more modern times. And her arguments were poured 
 forth in such strains of eloquence that, were it not for 
 the consciousness that the eternal principles of truth are 
 on my side, I should have shrunk from even attempting 
 a reply. 
 
 " But she could have added to her list of works of art 
 of astounding magnificence, the productions of man (the 
 seen force) ad infinitum; for the Old World is full of ruins 
 which bespeak the potency not of the seen force, but of 
 the unseen. 
 
 " Many of those surprising works of art referred to 
 have perished. Admit, for argument's sake only, that 
 they were the creations of the seen force. How comes it 
 that they have perished ? Because of the far greater 
 potency of an unseen force. Neglected and forsaken by 
 men, that mysterious unseen force has been quietly and
 
 A SPA SI A. 85 
 
 silently crumbling them all to dust. Many of the most 
 stupendous works referred to are so completely destroyed 
 that no vestige of them remains. 
 
 " My opponent might with equal propriety have offered 
 as proof the magnificence of the cities of Herculaneum 
 and Pompeii, with all their statues and elegant paintings. 
 But were these not all destroyed in an hour by an unseen 
 force, when Vesuvius first uttered a groan as if writhing 
 with pain, and, opening its mouth, belched forth a flood 
 of fire and lava, burying those ill-fated cities? Was it 
 not an unseen force ? And has any one ever looked 
 down into the bowels of that grand old mountain, and 
 seen the force which vomited out that liquid fire ? Surely 
 not. And, since the creation of the world, has there been 
 so powerful an exhibition of the seen forces as that awful 
 catastrophe ? No, never ! 
 
 "I admit that art, in its grandeur, was apparently per 
 fected in the times and cities of the Old World ; but was 
 not that also the product of an unseen force in the soul 
 of man, moving him on to the accomplishment of those 
 grand and' elegant works of art? 
 
 " We are told by the debaters on the other side that the 
 elegance of our manufactured fabrics is another exhibition 
 of the potency of the seen forces. Why? Because, for 
 sooth, those machines which seem to perform those won 
 derful feats as if by their own volition, were the device 
 and workmanship of man ; and those machines, in per 
 forming their manipulations, are, we are told, seen forces. 
 This I most distinctly deny ; on the contrary, they are 
 no forces at all. Were they forces, they would never 
 cease tl\,eir operations. But we find that so soon as the 
 actual force which propels them is withdrawn or \vitli- 
 held, they are silent and inactive ; and even those 111:1- 
 
 8
 
 86 ASP ASIA. 
 
 chines were not, as is claimed, the result of seen force, 
 but of the unseen. The mind of man, that mysterious 
 unseen force, devised, wrought out, and put them in 
 operation. 
 
 "As I look out of my window, a snow-storm is wrap 
 ping the cold earth in its soft and fleecy fold. One by 
 one, flake after flake, in quick succession, drops out of 
 the dark and mysterious ethereal space and takes its 
 place upon the ground. 
 
 " The darkness of night conies on. Silently and softly 
 the little crystals continue to drop during the night. 
 
 "I arise in the morning, and immense snow-banks have 
 formed, which require the labor of men and teams for days 
 to remove sufficient for a passage. Now, will my oppo 
 nent tell us if any one has ever seen that force which was 
 the cause of all this ? 
 
 " Spring-time has come, and the meadows are grow 
 ing green. From day to day I watch the growth of 
 the grass. Silently and most mysteriously it continues, 
 until it is ready for the harvest, and is then garnered into 
 barns to nourish and sustain animal life during another 
 cold and dreary winter. Has any one seen the power 
 which causes all this ? No ! It is a secret unseen force 
 far beyond our comprehension. 
 
 " The night is cold and cheerless ; morning dawns; the 
 atmosphere is cool and bracing. The day is lovely. The 
 sun in the heavens shines forth with its wonted brilliancy 
 and splendor. Mid-day comes, and the intense heat causes 
 the flocks and herds to seek the shade ; the farmer un 
 hitches his team and leads them to the stalls, and himself 
 retires 'neath the shade to rest until the heat of the day is 
 over. Hark ! I hear a distant sound, as of thunder. A 
 small cloud is seen crawling up the western horizon. It 
 increases rapidly in size, until yonder heavens are as black
 
 AS PAS I A. 87 
 
 as night ; and from out that dark and mysterious cloud I 
 see fire darting forth, and with peal after peal the artillery 
 of heaven pours forth its volleys. The clouds overshadow 
 the earth; and where, but a half-hour since, all was beau 
 tiful, now all is awfully sublime and fearfully grand. The 
 storm rages ; the lightnings flash and dart athwart the 
 heavens; the grand old oaken forests, that have withstood 
 the storms of centuries, bow their heads, and are swept to 
 the ground by this storm-king. Cities and villages which 
 lie in its path, that required the labor of thousands of 
 men (seen forces) to erect and embellish, are, in a single 
 hour, totally demolished by this terrible unseen force. 
 
 "I trust, ladies, that I have convinced you that the 
 unseen forces are vastly more potent than the seen." 
 
 The debate being closed, Miss Haywood arose, and, ad 
 dressing herself to the audience, said, 
 
 " Young ladies, the arguments of Aspasia are conclu 
 sive. I admit myself vanquished. I am convinced, as I 
 know you must all be, by the powerful arguments pre 
 sented by my opponent as to the power of the unseen 
 over the seen forces." 
 
 At this announcement the young ladies arose with a 
 shout and clapping of hands. Flowers and bouquets 
 were thrown at my feet. Thus ended the first lyceurn 
 meeting in the seminary. 
 
 To detail my experience during the remainder of the 
 term would be uninteresting ; and I will only briefly refer 
 to some further correspondence with Mr. Goodspeed. 
 
 As seen by the date of the letter, it was not until the 
 middle of February that I again heard from him ; and I 
 supposed that in criticising my letter he had concluded 
 that his most " ardent love" expressions did not meet with 
 a full and hearty response, and that he would venture no 
 further; but at last I received the following :
 
 88 ASP ASIA. 
 
 " No. SCHOOL STREET, 
 
 " BOSTON, February 15, 18 . 
 
 "Mr DEAR ASPASIA: Your dignified yet courteous 
 letter of the 9th ultimo reached me by due course of mail, 
 and my long silence has, without doubt, awakened serious 
 apprehensions in your mind; but when you come to learn 
 the real cause of my delay in answering your very precious 
 letter, you will overlook the seeming negligence. 
 
 " I received yours late in the afternoon, and had but 
 just read it when I received a telegram from New Orleans 
 that a merchant whom our house had trusted for large 
 amounts was about to make an assignment, and prefer 
 his creditors at the South, and if one of the members of 
 our house would come on there at once we could save 
 the debt. Looking at my watch, I saw I had but ten 
 minutes in which to reach the train. I said to my 
 partner, ' Mr. Hammond, have the book-keeper forward 
 to me at New Orleans, by to-morrow morning's express, 
 
 Mr. 's account; also take my keys (handing them 
 
 to him), go to my hotel and pack my satchel, and for 
 ward that at the same time. I will keep you advised 
 of my success.' In a few moments I reached the depot, 
 iust in season to jump on board the cars as they were 
 passing out, and was then on my way to New Orleans, 
 whither I reached in safety ; my satchel did not reach me 
 for three days after. And, since I have felt it necessary 
 to detail this trip, it may not be uninteresting to you 
 to know that I succeeded in securing the entire debt. 
 Finding that I had outgeneraled him, and that there 
 was no possible way of escape, he got his friends to see 
 me and obtain a proposition for discounting the debt. 
 This he was compelled to do, or utterly fail, without an 
 opportunity to pocket a single dollar, as with my legal 
 process I had been able to seize upon his entire stock in
 
 AS PAST A. 89 
 
 trade, and it was sure. I proposed to discount ten per 
 cent, for cash, which was readily accepted, and the money 
 paid me, -forty-two thousand and four hundred dol 
 lars. After settling 1 with my attorney, and reserving 
 sufficient for my expenses, I remitted the remainder to 
 my house. 
 
 " I was so completely absorbed in this undertaking that 
 I could not find a moment's time to write. 
 
 " This is my excuse for not writing sooner, which I 
 doubt not will appear reasonable and sufficient to you. 
 
 " I arrived home this morning, very much fatigued, yet 
 not so but that I can spend an hour in writing you. 
 
 " Permit me to philosophize for a moment upon a crea 
 ture we call man, a business-man, if you please. 
 
 " When I first commenced in business, I thought that 
 if a customer from the South or West, while purchasing 
 a bill of goods, should inquire what church I attended, 
 and if I could inform him at what hour the Sabbath- 
 school was held, and whether such and such a church 
 had Wednesday evening meetings, it would be perfectly 
 safe to trust such a person for all he would purchase ; but, 
 alas ! as Widow Bedott says, 'man is a poor weak critter ;' 
 or, as another who has written of him most elegantly 
 styles him, ' a poor fellow.' This customer of mine was 
 one of that class, a ' wolf arrayed in sheep's clothing,' 
 'stealing the livery of heaven to serve the devil in.' He 
 pretended to be an elder in a Presbyterian church ; and 
 yet scarcely a business-man in New Orleans who is not 
 a relative of his would believe him under oath. Does 
 it not indeed seem very strange that men can become so 
 wicked ? I have never professed religion, and for years 
 did not attend church, and I feasted on what I termed 
 the sins of Christians ; but when I came to investigate 
 
 8*
 
 90 ASP AS I A. 
 
 this case I found that Christianity was in no way re 
 sponsible for it. To scan my own acts and judgments, 
 I have come to the conclusion that, in a measure at least, 
 I have been in the wrong. In my experience I have also 
 learned that men yes, and women also are not always 
 the same abroad as they are at home. Here, too, 'is an 
 evil under the sun.' But the facilities for quick commu 
 nication between distant parts of the country are now so 
 great, and there are so many more people traveling than 
 formerly, that a man has to be more careful how he de 
 ports himself while away from home than a few years 
 since, lest he may be seen by his neighbors and they 
 communicate to his friends. I look upon this as one of 
 the great safeguards of our young country merchants in 
 coming to the city to make purchases ; and is among the 
 means employed by Providence to correct evil habits and 
 stimulate to nobler thoughts and deeds. 
 
 " Leaving this subject, as quite likely it may be unin 
 teresting to your finely cultivated mind, I wish to reiterate 
 my expressions of ardent attachment to you. I do not 
 think, as you intimate, ' that my judgment \vas at fault,' 
 nor that you ' put on counterfeit charms.' I have lived 
 quite long in fashionable life, for one of my years. My ex 
 perience in society has been extensive; and I have never, 
 in a single instance, been deceived in my estimate of a 
 lady's character and talents. This is no egotism, and I 
 feel justified, under the circumstances, in making the 
 statement. True, there were ladies at the wedding who 
 were dressed more elegantly than yourself, and, so far as 
 trinkets were an adornment, far outshone you. Yet in 
 the matter of true, genuine adornment of grace and re 
 finement, with a cultured intellect and a mind trained by 
 education to take life like a true philosopher, and appa 
 rently without an envious thought, you seemed the per-
 
 ASPASIA. 91 
 
 fection of woman to me; and I am not yet willing to ad 
 mit that my conclusions were incorrect. I am anxious to 
 test it by yet more intimate acquaintanceship. 
 
 " I met Mr. Shepherd just as I reached my store, and 
 gave him and for his loving wife your regards. Although 
 long since made, I took it for granted you had not re 
 scinded the order. He wished me to return his and Mrs. 
 Shepherd's regards to you. 
 
 " I beg of you to reply at once. Give me a good long 
 letter, and write everything that has transpired since I 
 saw you that you think will be of interest to me. 
 
 "And believe me, truly and affectionately yours, 
 
 "MORGAN GOODSPEED." 
 
 After reading this letter carefully, and closely criticising 
 the line of thought developed, I said to myself, " Neither 
 am I mistaken. Mr. Goodspeed is evidently a gentleman 
 of sagacity, sound judgment, close, discriminating mind, 
 warm-hearted, generous, and impulsive, and is deserving 
 of a good wife." But, as for me, I could not and would 
 not think of such a thing, for sister Elizabeth was just 
 about to be married, and I should have to go home and 
 take care of father, being fully resolved never to leave 
 him alone. I therefore wrote Mr. Goodspeed, expressing 
 profound respect and admiration for him, thanking him 
 most generously for his favors, and saying that, from the 
 fact that I should be intensely occupied with my studies 
 during the remainder of the term, and for other reasons 
 as herein stated, I felt it a duty to himself to discontinue 
 the correspondence with this letter. 
 
 The result was, that in about a week I received a letter 
 from Rose (Mrs. Shepherd), in which she gave me a 
 good scolding, and promised to visit me after my return 
 home, which she did, as the sequel will show.
 
 92 A SPAS! A. 
 
 At last term closed, and with it I graduated with high 
 honors, the first in my class. 
 
 And, bidding good-by to my alma mater and the loved 
 ones with whom I had for three long years associated 
 with no unkind word or thought, I departed for my 
 home.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HAVING completed my education, I had returned home 
 fully 'determined to remain with my dear father so long 
 as he desired, at least, never to leave him permanently, 
 should an opportunity offer, without first seeing that he 
 was well provided for. 
 
 This resolve was rendered necessary, at least in part, 
 by the fact that sister Elizabeth was about to be mar 
 ried ; indeed she was married within a few weeks after 
 my return from the seminary ; and I am pleased to know 
 that she married well ; in fact, her husband possessed a 
 .high order of talents, and in all respects was a splendid 
 gentleman. And it pained me to observe, as I did in 
 after-years, that my sister did not appreciate him ; being 
 of an opposite temperament, with habits of thought and 
 ideas of propriety widely differing from her husband, 
 she was a constant hindrance to him. I shall endeavor 
 to give an impartial review hereafter of some portions 
 of their married life as it came under my observation; 
 for there are valuable lessons to be learned from their 
 experiences. 
 
 Soon after my return, Laura Greenwood was married, 
 and went West to reside. She and Bell Jones spent only 
 one year in the seminary. 
 
 I found, on returning home, that I had more friends in 
 town than I had supposed ; for during the past three 
 years I had been at home but a small portion of the time, 
 and during that time had grown in stature as well as ma-
 
 94 A SPA SI A. 
 
 ture in mind ; and I found, on returning (and somewhat 
 to my surprise), that very many of the ladies, yes, and of 
 the gentlemen also, who looked upon me only as a little 
 girl and addressed me as Aspasia when I left home for the 
 seminary, now welcomed me back as Miss Horton ; the 
 effect of which naturally caused me to put on something 
 of a dignified appearance. 
 
 But there was one exception to the ladies in the par 
 ticular mentioned. That was Jane Fisher. 
 
 I first met Jane in church at the close of the morning 
 service on the first Sabbath after my return. She came 
 rushing up to me, "Aspasia Horton! Well, if you 
 ain't grown, I'll give it up ! Come home to stay ? Did 
 you graduate ? Get a diploma ? What luck did you have 
 with your studies ? How high did you rank in your 
 class ? Have you any idea of getting married ? I heard 
 you had. Now, if it is so, tell me, and then I shall know; 
 and if you ain't, say so, for I know you'll tell the truth ; 
 and then I can tell folks." 
 
 " Yes," thought I, "'tell folks.' News is what she 
 is after." She was so impatient to learn everything that 
 she conceived possible for any person to inquire about, 
 that she hardly had time to take breath between her inter 
 rogatories, and I simply replied to each, as fast as put, 
 with yes or no, as the case might be. While she was pro 
 pounding her questions, several ladies came to meet me 
 cordially, as they said I resembled my mother so much, 
 the memory of whose love and affection still lingered 
 with them ; and they said they thought they saw her 
 image reflected in me. They all addressed me as Miss 
 Horton. "No," said Jane: "it's Aspasia, and nothing 
 else, with me." 
 
 By this time sister Kate and her husband came and 
 relieved me, for I then had an excuse to get away from
 
 AS PAS I A. 95 
 
 Jane and avoid any further quizzing and questioning 1 . 
 As I left, I overheard one of the women say, " How 
 much she looks and acts like her mother! I hope she 
 won't get married right off, as all the rest of Mr. Hor- 
 ton's children have, except William." 
 
 " No," said Jane ; " she hain't no notion of being mar 
 ried ; she told me so. And I'm glad I asked her ; for 
 now I can tell folks." 
 
 "Well," thought I, " this matter will be pretty well set 
 tled before night, unless something serious should happen 
 to Jane." 
 
 I had been so little accustomed to house-work that it 
 came pretty hard upon me at first to have the care of the 
 family. True, we had a good kitchen -girl ; and I have 
 often thought that she (who really understood the work 
 at first very much better than myself) was more patient 
 in teaching me than most girls would have been, and I 
 have ever remembered her with gratitude. 
 
 As I became more familiar with household cares, so I 
 came to relish and enjoy such employments; and I found 
 that physical exercise was the very thing I needed, for, 
 by my habits of intense thought and close study, I had 
 become somewhat dyspeptic, and, consequently, was not 
 so buoyant in spirit as previously. But I soon found that, 
 as the result of active exercise and getting very tire3 some 
 days, my digestion was wholly restored, my wonted buoy 
 ancy returned, my drooping spirits revived, and I could 
 think clearly and rapidly; and in all respects I began to 
 feel like a new creature. 
 
 My father's crops were abundant that season. Conse 
 quently, he employed several hired men; and in harvest 
 especially I was kept very busy. My lady readers in the 
 country will appreciate my situation at this time. 
 
 Autumn at last came. As William returned from
 
 96 ASP ASIA. 
 
 town one evening, he handed me a letter. I opened it, 
 and, glancing at the signature, saw it was from my friend 
 Rose (Mrs. Shepherd). I laid it aside to prepare tea for 
 William (for he had been out all day, and it was now 
 quite late). After he had taken his tea, I read my letter, 
 which was as follows : 
 
 " BOSTON, November 18, 18. 
 
 "MY DEAR ASPASIA: It has been a long, long time 
 since I have heard from you ; and I have waited until, 
 by and with the advice and urgent solicitations of my 
 dear husband, I have concluded to write you; and, as the 
 Irishman wrote to a long-absent friend, ' If you're dead, 
 git your brother to answer this letter.' So I say. If you 
 cannot write, do get some one to reply for you. But, 
 joking aside, I wish to know when it will be the most 
 convenient for you to have me visit you. I have made 
 up my mind to do so early, for I have some very import 
 ant things to say to you, which I cannot write. 
 
 "I should have visited you ere this had I not been pre 
 vented by circumstances entirely beyond my control; and 
 these same circumstances also prevented my writing ; 
 and, besides all this, we (husband and myself) have re 
 ceived a very precious present this fall, which I wish you 
 to see, for I know you will appreciate it. I cannot de 
 scribe it to you, and shall bring it with me when I visit 
 you. 
 
 "Mr. Goodspeed was in this evening, and spent an 
 hour very agreeably, although he is quite low-spirited. 
 Your last letter to him was a crusher, and I do think you 
 were cruel. But enough of that now. I remarked to 
 him that I was about to write you; and he wished me to 
 remember him affectionately to you. By-the-way, he says 
 he knows more of you than he thought. He has met a
 
 A SPA SI A. 97 
 
 lady friend of his who says you are the lady they (her 
 self and Mr. Goodspeed) spent an evening with at the 
 sea-side three summers ago, when you preached them a 
 sermon. And he said, further, that he had never forgotten 
 it, and never should; that previous to that evening he had 
 been a skeptic, but abandoned his skepticism entirely after 
 listening to your arguments. 
 
 " My husband joins me in expressions of sincere affec 
 tion. 
 
 " Please reply to this at once, 
 
 "And believe me, as ever, 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 "ROSE." 
 
 I had been so thoroughly occupied in my new calling 
 that I had almost forgotten my friends. No, I had not 
 forgotten them, but I had neglected them; and the re 
 ceipt of this letter brought vividly to my mind the rem 
 iniscences of other days; the happy hours spent with 
 friends, many of whom had gone, either died or moved 
 away. 
 
 After conferring with father and William, it was 
 thought best to write her to come at once, which I did, 
 requesting her to telegraph the morning she left, and 
 William would meet her at the depot with a carriage. 
 
 In about one week we received a dispatch that she 
 would arrive on the afternoon train ; and William met her 
 at the depot. 
 
 I was standing at the south window as I saw them 
 emerge from the pine-woods; and, on driving up to the 
 door, I observed Rose had a bundle in her arms. I ran 
 to the gate to welcome her, and she handed me her bun 
 dle, saying, " Handle it carefully ; it is the present I wrote 
 
 9
 
 98 A SPAS I A. 
 
 you about." I took it, and, lo and behold, it was a 
 bouncing baby boy ! 
 
 " Bless your soul, Rose," said I, " is this yours ?" 
 
 " Most certainly it is," she replied ; " and he is worth 
 ten times his weight in gold ; and you will say so when 
 you come to see him." 
 
 On going into the house I undid the baby, and, sure 
 enough, he was a noble boy. Said I, " Rose Shepherd, 
 this is just like you. Just such a baby as I should sup 
 pose you would have. A noble head, fair and express 
 ive countenance, fine, clear blue eyes, and a heart nat 
 urally full of generous impulses. A splendid baby ! 
 But," said I, "come to your room. John, bring up that 
 trunk." 
 
 Soon Rose came down to the parlor. My father coming 
 in just then, I introduced him. He remarked that he was 
 very glad to welcome her, as she was a friend of mine ; 
 and his love was so fervent for me that he felt himself 
 instinctively impelled by emotions of love toward my 
 friends. 
 
 Rose thanked him, and replied that, aside from her dear 
 husband, she had no friend for whom she cherished such 
 undying love as for Aspasia. 
 
 In the afternoon of the second day of Rose's visit, while 
 sitting at the parlor-fire, talking of the scenes of other clays, 
 of our experiences at the seminary, the circumstances of 
 her wedding, etc. ; said she, " Aspasia, I wrote you that 
 I had something important to say to you ; and as we are 
 now alone, the baby is asleep, and the storm without will 
 prevent visitors, suppose we talk it over now." 
 
 " Well," said I, " proceed." which she did, as follows: 
 
 " Last March, Mr. Goodspeed showed me the letter he 
 had received from you, saying that, for certain reasons, 
 you thought best to discontinue the correspondence. J
 
 ASP AS I A. 99 
 
 read the letter, and confess I thought it pretty cool, and 
 wrote you accordingly, but by his earnest wish. 
 
 " He asked me if I did not think it coquettish to jilt a 
 gentleman after that style. 
 
 " ' No,' said I ; 'I know Aspasia too well for that. 
 There is none of the coquette about her ; and that is the 
 worst feature there is about it: she is in real earnest.' 
 
 "'Well,' he replied, 'it seems as though I could not 
 have it so. But I suppose I must submit, unless you can 
 intercede in my behalf.' 
 
 " I then promised him that I would make you a visit 
 and talk the matter over with you. 
 
 " You recollect I wrote that circumstances entirely be 
 yond my control had prevented my visiting you earlier. 
 The explanation of that is lying snugly, and as sweet as 
 an angel, in that cradle" (pointing to it). 
 
 " Now, then, I wish you to reconsider your resolution, 
 and give me authority to invite Mr. Goodspeed to visit 
 you while I am here, and then you and he can agree upon 
 your future course. And I am free to give you my reasons 
 for urging this proposition. 
 
 " First, you are twenty years of age, and you certainly 
 ought not to defer marriage longer than sufficient time to 
 make due preparations for the wedding after a good offer 
 is made you. 
 
 "And, second, Mr. Goodspeed is ready at any time to 
 offer you his hand and heart. 
 
 "And, again, I believe he will make you a devoted hus 
 band. He is kind, affable, large-hearted, and full of sym 
 pathy, and is, as you are aware, very fine-looking. My 
 husband says he is also a first-class business-man, and is, 
 pecuniarily, quite well off; so that you will never want 
 for the comforts, and even luxuries, of life. 
 
 " Now, then, what more could you wish ? I know what
 
 100 A SPA SI A. 
 
 you will say. He is not a Christian. No; but I be- 
 lieve that, by the grace of God, you could make him 
 one. He has spoken many times of that sermon (as he 
 calls it) that you gave him and his lady friend at the 
 sea-side, and of the impressions it left upon his mind ; and 
 he says his life has been quite different since, and, as I 
 wrote you, he is actually growing melancholy and sad. 
 He has called at our house as often as every other day, to 
 learn when I should visit you, and, when I left home, he 
 remarked that he should be quite impatient to hear from 
 me, as I promised to write him after conferring with you." 
 
 " Well," said I, " Rose, you will beat the lawyers in 
 special pleading. With such an advocate, Mr. Goodspeed 
 most certainly ought to succeed; and I don't know but he 
 may. But I cannot decide to-day; and I tell you what I 
 wish you to do. I will call father in this evening after 
 tea, and you speak your piece to him, and see what he 
 says. I will then talk with him about it, and let you know 
 the result." 
 
 Evening came, and, after tea, we all repaired to the 
 parlor, except brother William, who had to attend a meet 
 ing of the town officers that evening, as he was a member 
 of the board. 
 
 Being seated around the fire, I reminded father of my 
 correspondence, while in the seminary (which he was 
 then aware of), with a Mr. Goodspeed, a gentleman I 
 met at Mrs. Shepherd's wedding, and that some time pre 
 vious to my leaving the seminary I caused a suspension 
 of hostilities, for the reason that my mind was thoroughly 
 occupied with my studies, and, moreover, I was about to 
 come home and stay with him (my father). 
 
 " Now, Mr. Goodspeed is a friend of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Shepherd, and Mrs. Shepherd has been making a forcible 
 plea to me to invite Mr. Goodspeed here at once while she
 
 ASP AS FA. 101 
 
 is with us, and I told her that she might speak her piece 
 to you this evening, and see what you would say to it. 
 So, Rose, you may proceed." 
 
 She then repeated the same to father she had said to 
 me, word for word, as though she had learned it by heart, 
 
 After listening to her earnestly, father leaned forward, 
 resting his elbows on his knees, with his head in his hands, 
 and appeared to be in deep thought for several moments; 
 and finally, wiping the tears from his eyes, and turning 
 toward me, said he, "Aspasia, I don't know how I can 
 live without you ; but possibly I may not live long any 
 way, and I think, on the whole, ytm had better let Mrs. 
 Shepherd send for him to come here. I can tell in a very 
 short time whether it will be worth his while to come 
 more than once." 
 
 Accordingly, I consented, and Rose called for writing- 
 materials, which father brought, and she hastily wrote a 
 brief note, and had it ready for the post in the morning. 
 
 About this time brother William returned from town; 
 and, after discussing the news brought home by him, it 
 getting late, we all retired for the night. 
 
 9*
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "Whence holiness of will derives its birth, 
 Whence piety and faith illumine earth, 
 'Gainst men ungrateful, of false virtue vain, 
 I sing; a thousand verses form the strain. 
 If, reader, to such knowledge you aspire, 
 Search here, and gratify your good desire. 
 From frantic errors safe, the growth of pride; 
 These, if you study well, will be your guide; 
 Nor will you dare against the God of grace 
 Rebellious human liberty to place. 
 Nor will you any of his gifts disown; 
 Nor think you merit, but by Him alone; 
 Whate'er is good in you, you here will trace, 
 Not as the cause, but the effect, of grace." 
 
 IN a few days we had the pleasure of welcoming Mr. 
 Goodspecd at our house. 
 
 Mrs. Shepherd took him aside privily, soon after his 
 arrival (as she afterward informed me), and told him to be 
 sure and get on the right side of my father, and he would 
 be all right ; for if my father advised me to marry him 
 I would do so. 
 
 Thus being placed upon his guard at the very outset of 
 the conflict, he would have been a dull soldier had he 
 failed in taking the castle. 
 
 A day or two after his arrival, father and William both 
 spent the day in the house, on account of a severe De 
 cember storm. 
 
 William was occupied the greater part of the day in 
 posting his account-books ; for he attended to his book- 
 (102)
 
 A SPA SI A. 103 
 
 keeping entirely of evenings and stormy days. The rest 
 of us were in the parlor. The storm was raging furiously 
 without, and we were all cosily seated around a comfort 
 able fire. 
 
 The circumstances were such as to call forth the exer 
 cise of our social powers and cause us all to throw off 
 reserve ; and the result was a lively and interesting con 
 versation during nearly the entire day. 
 
 I have observed, in my experience, that at certain times 
 and under peculiar circumstances it is very much easier 
 to approach strangers and draw them out in conversation, 
 than at other times. 
 
 A stormy day is one. 
 
 Waiting at a depot in the night for a train that is past 
 due is another. 
 
 I well remember going to the depot one stormy even 
 ing to meet some friends expected on the train. A 
 gentleman passed me repeatedly, in a nervous, restless 
 manner. At last, approaching me, he remarked, " Train 
 is behind time; I fear some accident may have hap 
 pened. Are you expecting friends?" I replied, "Yes," 
 and inquired if he was. He said, " Yes, my wife and 
 child; and I fear something has happened to the train.' 7 
 He then entered into conversation as freely as though 
 we were familiar acquaintances. At last I ventured to 
 inquire his name, and was greatly surprised to learn that 
 
 it was the Hon. , who was celebrated inure than any 
 
 thing else for his reserve and dignity, and was rarely 
 ever seen stooping so low as to converse with anyone 
 less than a governor or a jud<re. 
 
 1 5ut the truth was, he was one of that class whose 
 whole life was counterfeit. Such do not live their own 
 natures at all. lie was naturally courteous and genial; 
 and the circumstances under which I met him were those
 
 104 A SPA SI A. 
 
 calculated to develop his real character. He was antici 
 pating trouble, fearing an accident had happened to the 
 train, and that his dear wife and child were injured ; and, 
 finding- 1 was also expecting friends by the same train, 
 he quite likely said to himself, "Now I can find sympa 
 thy :" he therefore at once and without reserve threw 
 off his mask, and played the original part assigned by 
 Nature. 
 
 On board a vessel during a storm is another occasion 
 for developing the genial qualities of humanity. 
 
 I have experienced such ; and it is really amusing to 
 see how affable persons become under such circum 
 stances, who but an hour previous were haughty and 
 self-opinionated, even disgustingly so. 
 
 But to return to our subject. The conversation com 
 menced by Mr. Goodspeed relating a few incidents which 
 happened on the train he came on, and which were re 
 ferred to by him to sustain his theory that a railroad-car 
 was the best place in the world in which to study human 
 nature. He said that during the day two women came 
 into the car, every seat was fully occupied, and they 
 were compelled to stand, until he suggested to the gen 
 tleman who sat beside him that they give the ladies their 
 seats, which was agreed to, whereupon they took posses 
 sion at once, but without the least acknowledgments 
 for the favor. The two gentlemen were compelled to 
 stand for a whole hour. At last, arriving at their sta 
 tions, the women left the seats and hastened to the door. 
 Just as they were stepping upon the platform, he cried 
 out to them, " Ladies, you have forgotten something." 
 They both ran back to the seat hurriedly, and inquired 
 what they had left. He replied, "You forgot to thank 
 us for your seats, as ladies should." They sneaked out 
 of the car amid a roar of laughter from all the passengers.
 
 ASPASIA. 105 
 
 My father remarked that he had traveled by railway 
 considerable, and had himself thought it a good place to 
 study human nature, until he was led to criticise his own 
 acts, when he found that the selfish principle in his nature 
 was much more largely developed while traveling than 
 while at home. He was therefore compelled to entertain 
 charitable feelings toward others. 
 
 I remarked that, so far as my experience went, I 
 thought there was more truth than poetry in the aphor 
 ism, " This world is all a cattle-show." "And so it is," I 
 went on. "As the farmer takes only his best cattle to the 
 fair, so with people on exhibition or away from home: 
 while under restraint they only exhibit the best traits in 
 their character. 
 
 " It is also said that All the world's a stage. 
 
 " The question is, What kind of a stage ? Is it a coach, 
 using the compound term stage-coach, with a Jehu for a 
 driver? If so, it is surely correct; for I believe there 
 never was an era in the history of man when all the pro 
 pelling forces, mental and physical, were so thoroughly 
 taxed as now. 
 
 " It may be that a theater, or the stage in a theater, is 
 meant by the expression. If so, it is correct; for in 
 everyday life we see all the actors in appropriate cos 
 tume, each in turn performing his part. 
 
 "We see the truly sincere and devout man, who has 
 the least possible amount of selfishness, living for the 
 good of others, controlled in his whole life by the golden 
 rule of God. 
 
 " We see the sanctimonious hypocrite occupying one of 
 the most expensive pews in the church, always laying his 
 head forward reverently during prayers, and on the fol 
 lowing Monday early fastening his claws, by a legal pro 
 cess, upon some poor unfortunate who is (in consequence 
 of adversity) in arrears for one month's rent.
 
 106 A SPA SI A. 
 
 "We see the genial-faced gentleman, who is reputed as 
 one of the most liberal men in the town ; but his part is 
 simply to be so while upon the stage, and he never plays 
 unless before a good audience. He is sure never to give, 
 except in a manner to have it known. If he is in church, 
 and 'the box is passed around,' unlike other men, he 
 has no money with him, which without ostentation he 
 could give. No : he must call for a paper and pencil and 
 write down his donation, with an order to call at his 
 office and collect. He makes money by his reputation. 
 
 " The scene changes. Here comes the Jew, with his 
 blue cotton umbrella under his arm, eager to light upon 
 a Gentile customer, and, with a hellish grin, exhibits 
 the liveliest emotion if his customer happens to be some 
 unfortunate one whose home is mortgaged and time of 
 redemption just about expired, and is willing to sacrifice 
 the earnings of years of hard, honest toil to save a little, 
 even, for his wife and children. 
 
 "Here comes the foppish gentleman, whose mustache 
 is twisted into two elegant little pig-tails, pointing each 
 way, as much as to say, ' If you are looking for brains, go 
 somewhere else.' He struts, bows, and scrapes like a 
 turkey-gobbler in spring-time. This chap never receives 
 an encore. 
 
 "In striking contrast to the last actor, here comes the 
 graceful, unaffected, urbane gentleman, whose very pres 
 ence sends a thrill of joy through you, that you have 
 found a man. 
 
 "Then comes the plain, matter-of-fact man, using no 
 satire, but dealing with the naked truth. Sanguine he 
 may be, and, if so, frequently wounding the heart of 
 many a friend, but also causing himself, at times, deep 
 grief ; yet, if lymphatic, he accomplishes really less good 
 to society.
 
 ASP ASIA. 107 
 
 " Then here comes the buffoon. We find him in the 
 pulpit, on the forum, at the bar, behind the counter, among 
 our law-makers ; wherever we go we find some one who 
 feels it incumbent upon himself to play the part of the 
 ' king's fool.' 
 
 "And last, but by no means the least, we have the 
 sponge ; the most despicable part in the play. In study 
 ing the plot carefully, one would suppose that few could 
 be found to play so mean a part ; but it is quite the re 
 verse, and performers in it are never wanting. Always 
 absorbing and never giving ; and as the marine substance 
 of that name varies in form, size, and color, and some are 
 more porous than others, so with the men yes, and the 
 women also who play the sponge on the stage of life. 
 They exhibit all those varieties ; and it is also their mis 
 fortune that, however well they play their parts, they are 
 universally despised by all the other actors on the stage. 
 
 "And thus I might go on ad infinitum, and call up the 
 actors in this drama of life, had I time." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Goodspeed, " will you please assign 
 me my part ?" 
 
 " Not at all," I replied. " You have made, or, if not 
 already, you will make, your own selection." 
 
 " But," said he, " in your opinion, which part am I the 
 best adapted for ?" 
 
 I begged he would excuse me, for I abhorred flattery, 
 and did not wish to misjudge him, and, with his permis 
 sion, I would withhold my answer until some future time ; 
 to which he consented. He then entered into conversa 
 tion with my father upon politics, business, etc., in which 
 I took comparatively little interest. 
 
 I observed one thing, however, that he seemed to agree 
 with my father upon all points of any importance ; lie; 
 was particular not to commit himself on any proposition
 
 108 ASP AS I A. 
 
 until he was well satisfied how my father stood upon that 
 point. 
 
 And he played his part well, as the sequel will prove. 
 
 After our visitors had retired for the night, and my 
 father and myself were sitting by the fire, waiting 
 for the soapstone to heat (for I did not retire any night 
 without first seeing him comfortably " tucked up" in 
 bed), we sat in silence several moments. At last father 
 broke the spell, and said he, "Aspasia, I guess you had 
 better make up your mind to marry Mr. Goodspeed ; he 
 appears like a very fine gentleman, well informed, says he 
 is quite wealthy, is good-looking, and seems to be a very 
 moral man. I wish he was a Christian ; but I think he is 
 that sort of a man that if you marry him and are faith 
 ful he will become one ; and, if he should, he will do a 
 great deal of good. And surely you will not have to 
 work at all, according to what he and Mrs. Shepherd say. 
 And there is Elizabeth, true, she has a first-rate hus 
 band, none better in the world ; but then she complains, 
 you know, because she has to work so hard about the 
 house; her husband can't afford to keep two girls; and if 
 you can marry a man with a fortune you had better do 
 so." 
 
 " Father," said I, " I should be the most miserable 
 creature on earth if I had nothing to do. Were I to 
 marry a man as rich as Croesus, I should work. For, in 
 the first place, it is a part of my religion ; it was a com 
 mand that God gave to man, and made it imperative ; and 
 laziness I believe a sin. And as for sister Elizabeth, 
 true, she is not lazy, but she is very petulant and fault 
 finding: her husband's row is the hardest to hoe. If 
 you think best, I will say to Mr. Goodspeed to-morrow, 
 before he leaves for Boston, that he may resume the cor 
 respondence, and when I get time I can marry him or
 
 ASP ASIA. 109 
 
 not, as I please. I sha'n't marry any one this winter : 
 that's certain." 
 
 With this, father trudged off to bed, and, after seeing 
 him snugly ensconced, I retired for the night. 
 
 Morning dawned. We arose early, as Mr. Goodspeed 
 wished to return by the first train, and Mrs. Shepherd 
 had concluded to return with him. We had breakfast 
 early; and, while waiting for William to come with the 
 sleigh, I said to Mr, Goodspeed that I should be pleased 
 to resume our correspondence, and hoped to hear from 
 him often, and should take great pleasure in reading and 
 answering his letters. 
 
 And I must say that, judging from his looks and ap 
 pearance, I never was conscious of contributing so much 
 happiness to a person in so short a time, and in so few 
 words, as then. He laughed all over, and, quick as thought, 
 " by your permission," planted a kiss on my cheek; and, 
 thanking me kindly, he remarked " that, although yester 
 day was a stormy, dreary day, yet it was the happiest day 
 of his life, except this day." 
 
 In a few moments brother William came, and I saw 
 them snugly stowed away in the sleigh ; and, with a 
 hearty good-by, they went whirling down the road. I 
 watched them into the pine woods, and went about my 
 morning's work. 
 
 Winter passed away, with nothing of very great im 
 portance occurring in which I was particularly interested, 
 except that sister Kate brought her husband a beautiful 
 bouncing boy. Mr. Shaw took it, as he did all his hi 
 ings, as providential. 
 
 It would be uninteresting to detail the correspondence 
 that passed between Mr. Goodspeed and myself that 
 winter and the spring and summer following. 
 
 The next season was very dry and warm, so that my 
 10
 
 110 ASPASIA. 
 
 father's crops were cut off by the drought, as were the 
 crops of all the neighboring farmers. 
 
 In the autumn a meeting was called at the town- 
 house in the village, to see what plan could be devised 
 to procure grain for the farmers to use during the winter; 
 and the result of the meeting was, the contribution of 
 from two to five hundred dollars each, by some fifty 
 farmers, into a common fund, and the appointment of 
 brother William as their agent to take this money and 
 proceed West, and purchase and ship home flour and corn, 
 which should be apportioned to each contributor accord 
 ing to the amount so paid in by him. 
 
 Accordingly, I made ready William's clothes; and, as 
 soon as he could arrange his business, he left for 
 Chicago. 
 
 It reminded me of good old Israel sending down into 
 Egypt after corn, under the same circumstances: the 
 dry weather had cut off his crops also. About the only 
 difference between the two cases was, that in the first 
 the farmers all went, while in this they sent an agent. 
 But, as William left the house with father, I could but 
 remember those mournful words of Jacob, " I shall see 
 his face no more. " 
 
 All of the fifty farmers who sent him were at the cars 
 to see him safely off. 
 
 Mr. Shaw was also there; and, as the cars started, 
 father said he heard him say, "May the Lord bless him 
 and return him safe!" Then, turning to father, he re 
 marked, " It's dangerous traveling, now, by rail, so 
 many accidents are happening; but I hope he may have 
 a safe trip." Father said it was spoken in such a man 
 ner, and came so unexpectedly, that it disturbed him a 
 good deal. 
 
 We anxiously awaited letters, and were rejoiced to
 
 ASPASIA. Ill 
 
 learn of William's safe arrival at Chicago. And that he 
 in due time completed his purchases satisfactorily, and 
 informed us, by letter, that he should leave for home on 
 a certain day and by a certain route. 
 
 He left as he had stated; and all went well until the 
 second day. While the cars were running- at a fearful 
 speed (endeavoring to make up lost time), just as they 
 came on to a high bridge, the train was thrown from the 
 track by a broken rail, and precipitated into the chasm 
 below ; and the cars, taking fire, were all burned, several 
 passengers were killed outright by the fall, and others 
 dreadfully mangled, and many burnt to death. 
 
 We learned of the accident the next day after its occur 
 rence ; and father and I rode to the village to see what 
 people thought about brother William's being on that 
 train. Several letters were produced by different persons, 
 stating that he should leave Chicago by that route and 
 upon such a day ; and the presumption was that he was 
 on board of the ill-fated train. For he was known to be 
 a man who always did just what he said he would. If he 
 made an appointment to meet a person at a certain place 
 or hour, he always fulfilled the appointment. 
 
 My father, in his deep anxiety that night, could not 
 sleep, and neither could I ; but I dared not let him know 
 that I was in the least apprehensive that evil had hap 
 pened to William. 
 
 My room adjoined that of my father; and I could hear 
 him cry out, in the night, "0 God, spare me the deep 
 affliction which I fear." And, after turning himself re 
 peatedly in bed, I would hear him say, " Lord, if in thy 
 wisdom thou hast ordained that my dear son shall have 
 perished, do thou in infinite mercy strengthen me to bear 
 up under it, that I may have grace given me. Thy will, 
 O Lord, and not mine, be done."
 
 112 ASPASIA. 
 
 The next day, at about eleven o'clock A.M., a mes 
 senger from town brought a telegram to father. He 
 opened it, and it read as follows : 
 
 " , December 3, 18. 
 
 " EDWARD HORTON, 
 
 "Dreadful railroad accident; cars thrown off the 
 bridge ; eighty persons killed, and one hundred injured. 
 We have one body of a man killed, but not burned. In 
 the coat-pocket are papers bearing your name, being 
 letters addressed to William Horton, Chicago; also grain 
 and flour receipts, made to William Horton. Also, we 
 have a satchel with his name on. We will express the 
 body to you on receipt of your order by telegraph. 
 
 " , Gen'l Sup't." 
 
 It seemed as though my father would sink into the 
 ground ; and had it not been for his true Christian forti 
 tude he could not have endured the stroke. 
 
 But, like one of old, he exclaimed, " The Lord gave, 
 and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of 
 the Lord." And, turning to me, said he, "Aspasia, we 
 mourn not as those who have no hope. I shall soon go 
 up yonder and meet him." 
 
 A message was at once sent to have the corpse of my 
 dear brother forwarded by express, as suggested.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " The heart knoweth its own bitterness." 
 
 MY father received a telegram from the superintendent, 
 to the effect that the corpse of my brother William would 
 arrive at three o'clock P.M. on Saturday. 
 
 At that time we were at the depot, with hosts of sym 
 pathizing friends. 
 
 John and James and their families, Kate and Eliza 
 beth and their husbands, were all with us ; and, as soon 
 as the coffin was placed in the hearse, the church-bell com 
 menced tolling, and continued until the procession arrived 
 at the church where the funeral ceremonies were per 
 formed. 
 
 There were a great many people present. Mr. Shaw 
 was so deeply affected by the sudden bereavement that he 
 could not officiate ; and the Rev. Mr. Clark, pastor of the 
 Baptist church, kindly offered his services; and they were 
 intensely solemn and impressive. 
 
 He dwelt at length upon the great loss the community 
 had sustained by this sudden death ; that the deceased 
 was a young man of strict integrity, of remarkable judg 
 ment, an enterprising and public-spirited man, and, 
 withal, a devoted and active Christian ; and both the 
 church and community had suffered an irreparable loss, 
 and it was fitting that so large a congregation had assem 
 bled to express their sympathy for the relatives of the 
 deceased, and particularly for the grief-stricken father; 
 and also that they could, by thus bending around the bier, 
 
 10* (113)
 
 114 A SPA SI A. 
 
 find a momentary relief in shedding tears of sorrow over 
 the remains of one so universally beloved. 
 
 A quartette choir stood at the head of the coffin, in front 
 of the pulpit, and sang a funeral hymn ; and I thought I 
 had never heard them sing so well. I afterward remarked 
 to father that it seemed to me as though William's spirit 
 was aiding them; for he was a very fine musician, and I 
 certainly never heard that choir sing so sweetly and in 
 such perfect tune. 
 
 We were all broken down by this terrible affliction; but 
 I dared not exhibit my emotions of sorrow in presence of 
 my father, for it seemed as though he was completely 
 crushed by 'his deep grief. And when, before God, at the 
 family altar, he prayed that "this deep affliction might be 
 sanctified to himself and his remaining children for their 
 spiritual and everlasting good," the throbbings of his 
 heart choked his utterance, and he exclaimed, " The 
 Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the 
 name of the Lord." Then it was that I could fully real 
 ize the strength and power of the Christian's faith. 
 
 Time passed on, and my father's health seemed to fail. 
 He mourned for William's death more as a child would at 
 the loss of a parent in whom he trusted, than as a parent 
 who had lost a child. 
 
 For my father was growing old, and not so vigorous as 
 formerly, and he looked forward with no little anxiety to 
 the time when he should become (if he lived) helpless, and, 
 to use his own expression, useless, and would then be 
 dependent upon William ; that all his hopes for the future 
 of this life centered in him. 
 
 It was a cold, dreary, and sad winter with us. 
 
 " Lone minstrel of the pensive lyre, 
 
 Oh, let not grief attune thy lay ; 
 For sadness blights each holier fire, 
 And scatters gloom o'er all the way."
 
 ASPASIA. 115 
 
 After the extreme cold of winter had passed, I per 
 suaded father to accompany me on a visit to sister Eliza 
 beth, where we spent two weeks, but not very pleasantly ; 
 for I regret to say that Elizabeth, unlike any other mem 
 ber of our family, was petulant and cross. She had a 
 little boy, about a year and a half old, as bright and 
 pretty a little fellow as I ever saw ; and she would fly into 
 a passion and cuff the "little brat" twenty times a day. 
 She had a boy, of about ten years of age, that she took to 
 bring- up; and I thought he had a good deal better have 
 never come up at all than to be " brought up" in her way. 
 But she said she was going to learn him to " bear the 
 yoke in his youth." 
 
 I really pitied her husband. He was a gentleman of 
 superior business abilities, of very fine talents for public 
 speaking; but she would never permit him to make a 
 speech, or accept an office of honor and trust, either in 
 town or church, if she could prevent it ; she said " she 
 didn't like to see people put themselves forward ;" and al 
 though her husband had sufficient independence and self- 
 respect not to conform to all of her foolish and wicked 
 caprices, yet it was a very great annoyance and affliction 
 to him, and also a great hindrance to his usefulness. 
 
 On his return home from the labors of the day, his 
 brain racked till he was well-nigh exhausted, wearied and 
 careworn, when of all times he needed, and ought to have 
 received, the cordial sympathies of an affectionate wife, 
 she would be more likely to meet him with a reprehend 
 than otherwise; and although he would generally pay no 
 attention to her, and appear not to hear her at all, and, 
 catching up his precious little boy, play with him, yet 
 occasionally he would lose his patience, and then, my 
 hnly, look out ; the fur would fly for a few moments ; then 
 all would be as still as it usually is immediately succeed-
 
 116 ASP ASIA. 
 
 ing a violent storm, and for a few days all was serene and 
 lovely. 
 
 Just before leaving for home, I ventured to read my 
 sister a short lecture, and one which she did not alto 
 gether relish. Still, 1 felt it my duty ; but, alas ! she did 
 not heed it ; and she was compelled to mourn in sack 
 cloth and ashes in after-years ; for her husband died, 
 leaving her poor, with children ; and the neighbors, well 
 knowing her treatment of him, did not manifest that re 
 gard and sympathy for her they otherwise would have 
 done. And I have heard her many times utter deep 
 regrets at the errors and follies of her married life. 
 
 Spring came, and Mr. Goodspeed began to grow im 
 patient to be married ; but I was not yet ready. I, one 
 day, while conversing with father, remarked to him that 
 I was not sure I really loved Mr. Goodspeed. I could 
 not but feel as though there was something wrong with 
 him. A casual acquaintance would not reveal anything 
 wrong ; but I thought I could detect a certain sort of 
 something which I could not explain, which led me to 
 fear he was not so good at heart as he would have me 
 believe. My father inquired what indications I had to 
 suspect that he was not honest. I replied, I could not 
 tell ; yet such impressions had been fastening themselves 
 upon my mind from time to time, and I could not give 
 any reasons that would be satisfactory to any one, and, 
 indeed, none whatever, except that an occasional un 
 guarded expression in his conversation and his letters, 
 and the general tone and spirit which seemed to under 
 lie his whole life, had fastened the conviction on my 
 mind that the substratum of his character was exceed 
 ingly porous, and that it needed to be broken up by the 
 plowshare of grace before much real good could be ex 
 pected from him.
 
 ASPASIA. 117 
 
 I have heard my father say that when he went to 
 look up land with a view of purchasing, if he found 
 brakes and wintergreens growing, even but occasionally, 
 among the grass, although by an extra dressing of some 
 fertilizer the grass should appear plentiful, yet he would 
 know the soil was wet and cold, and would require con 
 stant stimulating in order to produce a crop. 
 
 So also, when he found the sorrel and certain other 
 weeds, he knew that the ground of itself was dry and 
 barren, and could only be induced to yield a crop by 
 tickling or teasing. 
 
 Experience teaches me that there is great similarity 
 between the nature of mind and the nature of soil. 
 There are fields which, of their own accord, will pro 
 duce abundant crops of luxuriant grass every year, 
 entirely free of noxious weeds. So there are hearts that 
 are constantly full of holy emotions, and develop by 
 every look and act the highest degree of virtue and 
 moral honesty. 
 
 As my father returned from the village one day in 
 the early part of June, I observed an appearance of 
 melancholy that was unusual, and inquired the cause. 
 
 Seating himself in his arm-chair, he sat silent for some 
 moments. At length he addressed me. 
 
 "Aspasia, we are ruined." 
 
 " How is that, father?" said I. 
 
 He replied, " You remember that a few days after your 
 mother's funeral Mr. Wm. G. Hoxey came here to see 
 me." 
 
 "Yes," said I; "and I remember how full of sympathy 
 he appeared to be; and I thought then it was put on. I 
 didn't believe it was genuine, but that he was actuated 
 from selfish motives. Well, what of him?" 
 
 " Your suspicions were correct. But it is a very
 
 118 ASPASIA. 
 
 great pity that you did not put me on my guard; for 
 somehow it seems as though Providence has endowed 
 you with more common sense and sagacity than all the 
 rest of the family. 
 
 " Well, after he had commiserated me on account of 
 my deep affliction, he said he was also in trouble which 
 caused him deep distress ; but, unlike my affliction, 
 which no earthly friend could alleviate, his could be. 
 I inquired what it was. He said he had become involved 
 through some speculations, and his home was mortgaged 
 to secure his creditors, and the time of redemption had 
 about expired, and if sold would reduce himself and 
 family to extreme poverty ; and he desired to negotiate a 
 loan of twenty thousand dollars for two years and a 
 half, and in that time he could pay it; and that if Mr. 
 Geo. B. Scott and myself would indorse the notes for 
 him he could get the money ; and that he had seen 
 Mr. Scott, and he agreed to sign if I would. Without 
 much reflection, I signed them. He then went to Es 
 quire Scott and obtained his signature. And now, as 
 you are aware, Mr. Scott is dead, his estate is declared 
 insolvent, Hoxey has failed, and the notes are past 
 due, and not a dollar has been paid, even the interest. 
 And to-day I have been sued for twenty-eight thousand 
 dollars; and it will take every dollar of property and 
 money I have, and then not more than two-thirds pay 
 the debt. O Lord, have mercy on us. Oh that my 
 grief were thoroughly weighed, and my calamity laid in 
 the balances together." 
 
 I was so choked with grief that I could not speak ; 
 and, after a few moments' silence, I heard him exclaim, 
 in an under-tone, " Be still, and know that I am God." 
 
 I asked him if there was no possible escape. He re 
 plied, " None whatever."
 
 ASP ASIA. 119 
 
 After committing our ways unto the Lord, in our 
 evening's devotions, we retired for the night, but not to 
 sleep. 
 
 Some of my readers may have experienced the cold 
 blasts of the storms of adversity. Such can appreciate 
 the terrible agony of mind we felt that long and weari 
 some night. At length the morning dawned, and all 
 was beautiful without, but in striking contrast with our 
 wounded spirits. 
 
 There were times when it seemed as though I must 
 curse God and die; but then I would remember the 
 cross of Christ, and his teachings: "If ye endure not 
 chastisement, then are ye not sons." And, to be a child 
 of God and an heir with Christ, I must meekly submit to 
 his providences. 
 
 After breakfast we rode to the village, and broke the 
 unwelcome news to Kate and Mr. Shaw ; and they too 
 were filled with sorrow. Mr. Shaw and my father went 
 to consult Esquire Hicks, a celebrated lawyer. He said 
 there was no escape ; the debt would have to be paid, so 
 far as father's property would go toward paying it. My 
 father then called on the holder of the notes, and said to 
 him that if he would exercise leniency toward himself 
 and daughter, who were now in a day reduced to poverty, 
 he would turn over everything he had, and execute papers 
 at once and save time and expense at law. To this the 
 gentleman gladly assented. It was done; and within 
 one month we were homeless and penniless. 
 
 I had written full particulars to Mr. Goodspeed, and 
 received a reply urging me to marry him now. I de 
 clined for the present; for my father needed me more than 
 ever. 
 
 Soon the news of my father's misfortunes spread over 
 the town, and the people all seemed to .-vmpathi/e, with
 
 120 A SPA SI A. 
 
 us; and good old Jane Fisher circulated a subscription- 
 paper to raise money for father. As for me, she said, I 
 could take care of myself; and so I could. 
 
 The result was, a collection of three thousand dollars, 
 conditioned that it be invested in seven-thirty govern 
 ment bonds and placed on special deposit with the select 
 men of the town, and that they should pay over the in 
 terest to my father each year semi-annually as it matured, 
 to be expended by him for his board. 
 
 As soon as this was all accomplished, Jane came into 
 Mr. Shaw's; for father and I were stopping there a few 
 days till I could obtain employment. 
 
 She met us all in her usual don't-care sort of style, 
 and, said she, " Mr. Horton, I have been young, and now 
 am old, and yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken, 
 nor his seed begging bread. Read that, Mr. Horton," 
 handing him a paper, "and see if there isn't a God in 
 Israel." 
 
 My father commenced to read it. 
 
 "Oh," said she "read it aloud, so all can hear it; for 
 may- be they won't like it." 
 
 My father read it, as follows : 
 
 "July ,18. 
 
 "EDWARD HORTON, ESQ. 
 
 "My DEAR SIR: You have been a life-long resident of 
 this town. You have always been in affluent circum 
 stances, which enabled you to act the emotions of your 
 soul and freely contribute to all charitable objects. You 
 have ever been actuated, in all your dealings with the 
 people of this and the neighboring towns, by principles 
 of honor and strict integrity ; you have always exhibited 
 a high degree of public spirit, and so deported yourself as 
 to merit and command the admiration and esteem of all 
 the people ; and it is to show the great degree of respect
 
 ASP A SI A. 121 
 
 they entertain for you, and their sympathy that you are 
 called to wade through the deep waters of adversity, 
 that I am commissioned to hand you this letter, and in 
 it say to you that, by contributions from nearly every 
 voter in this town, three thousand dollars in seven-thirty 
 government bonds have been purchased and placed in 
 the hands of the selectmen, to be kept so long as you 
 shall live ; and the interest shall be .paid to you by the 
 chairman of the board, semi-annually, on the 15th of July 
 and January of each year, and at your death it shall re 
 vert to the original donors. 
 
 " With eminent expressions of our high esteem, 
 " I am yours respectfully, 
 
 " For the donors, 
 
 "SAML. HAYNES, 
 "Chairman of Selectmen." 
 
 My father was so deeply moved by this manifestation 
 of regard that it was with difficulty that be could read 
 it through ; and, upon concluding it, we all enjoyed a 
 good hearty crying, in which Jane participated. 
 
 At Jane's suggestion, it was concluded to have father 
 live with Mr. Shaw. The interest would just about pay 
 his board. 
 
 God in his providence having in so mysterious a manner 
 provided for my father, I now cast about in earnest for 
 something to do to support myself. I applied for a school 
 in a neighboring town ; and, by some means, Mr. Good- 
 speed heard of it, as also did Rose (Mrs. Shepherd), and 
 Mr. Goodspeed came at once to visit me, and brought a 
 letter from Rose, insisting that I must not defer nmiTinirr 
 any longer, and that she craved the privilege of giving 
 me a wedding-party on rny arriving in the city. 
 
 Mr. (Joodspeed now resumed his suit, and his argu- 
 11
 
 122 ASP ASIA. 
 
 merits, based upon my ill fortune, I confess were forcible ; 
 and the result was that, after considering it, and praying 
 over it for a day or two, I finally yielded; and said I, 
 "Morgan Goodspeed, do you offer me your heart and 
 hand without reserve, and prompted only by the purest 
 emotions of love?" 
 
 "I certainly do," he replied; "and I think my con 
 stancy of purpose, as evinced during the past three years, 
 is a sufficient guarantee of my sincerity." 
 
 " It is," I replied ; " and I accept you." 
 
 The day for the wedding was decided upon, and that 
 the ceremony should be performed in our church, and my 
 brother-in-law, Mr. Shaw, should officiate. 
 
 Mr. Goodspeed returned home, and I hastened my prep 
 arations for the wedding, which was to take place two 
 weeks from the Sabbath following.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " They tell me the vision of bliss that is glinting, 
 
 My heart's star of promise, in gloom will decline, 
 And the fair scene that Fancy, the fairy, is tinting, 
 AVill lose all its sunny glow ere it is mine. 
 
 " Oh, if Love and Life be but a fairy illusion, 
 
 And the cold future bright but in Fancy's young eye, 
 Still let me live in the dreamy delusion, 
 And, true and unchanging, hope on till I die." 
 
 THE two weeks in which I had to prepare for the 
 wedding passed swiftly by; and on the Friday previous, 
 Mr. Goodspeed arrived. 
 
 Sabbath morning at last came, a beautiful morning, 
 the 9th day of August, 18 . I thought I never saw the 
 sun shine forth with greater brilliancy and splendor; 
 and, in my meditations, a strange sensation came over 
 me. I thought over the scenes of my early life, of the 
 pleasures of my childhood days, of the happy hours at 
 home, " the dear old home," of a father's and mother's 
 counsel and prayers, of the precious privileges which it 
 had pleased a kind Providence to grant me; and I 
 realized that this day I was to part with youth forever, 
 and enter upon womanhood ; and, however much pleasure 
 and happiness I anticipated in view of my marriage, as 
 my mind reverted to the pleasures of former days I 
 could but feel, " Oh that I were a girl again !" But then, 
 I thought, to be always a girl is not answering the high 
 est purpose and aim for which I was designed ; and it is 
 
 (123)
 
 124 ASP ASIA. 
 
 the part of a Christian philosopher to enjoy life as it 
 passes, and the highest degree of happiness in this life 
 can only be attained by performing acts of charity and 
 love fully commensurate to the age and ability of the in 
 dividual. 
 
 Casting aside the reminiscences of former days, its 
 pleasures and pains, its joys and its sorrows, its pros 
 perity and its adversity, I looked forward with bright 
 anticipations to the full fruition of earthly happiness as 
 the result of my married life. 
 
 Time came for church-service. Arriving at church, 
 we found the congregation assembled and in waiting. 
 
 We were all seated by Mr. Shaw in his pew. Taking 
 his place in his pulpit, the choir sang a voluntary, and 
 soon services commenced. 
 
 Mr. Shaw preached from the text, " Love one another," 
 and I could but think he was reading a lecture to Mr. 
 Goodspeed and myself; and if I didn't observe sly glances 
 between him and Kate, then I am mistaken. It may be 
 that, owing to my trepidation, it was simply my imagin 
 ings. Be that as it may, I confess that I was neither 
 very highly entertained nor instructed by the preaching 
 that day, nor did I relish my position as being an exhibi 
 tion ; for I felt that I was gazed upon by the entire con 
 gregation. 
 
 After sermon, the marriage ceremony was performed. 
 The choir sang a lovely anthem, the benediction was 
 pronounced, and the congregation retired. 
 
 But my friends were so earnest to give me a parting 
 salutation, as they said, "possibly for the last time, "that 
 it was with difficulty that we could crowd our way out of 
 the house; and good old Jane Fisher bless her soul! 
 came to me W T ith her eyes almost blinded with tears, and 
 said she, "Aspasia, you know how much I thought of
 
 A SPA SI A. 125 
 
 your mother, and you look just exactly like her, and you 
 don't know how sorry I am to see that you are about to 
 leave us forever. God bless you! Remember me in your 
 prayers ;" and, putting her mouth close to my ear, she 
 whispered, "Are you going to live in Boston? and shall 
 you keep house, or board ? Folks will ask me, and I 
 want to tell it just as it is." 
 
 I replied, " I could not yet say, but as soon as it was 
 determined, I would endeavor to write her." 
 
 This seemed to satisfy her craving inquisitiveness, and 
 we were all soon seated in the carriage, and on the way 
 home. 
 
 My husband and myself retired to our room; I threw 
 myself into a chair, and buried my face in my hand 
 kerchief, and cried like a child. My husband sat silent. 
 As soon as I recovered from my fit of sadness, I sprang 
 to him, and, throwing my arms about his neck, said I, 
 "Morgan Goodspeed, my husband, I love you. It was 
 not simply that I am married that caused this sadness to 
 come over me, but it was because I must now bid adieu 
 forever to all my dear friends who have been so very kind 
 to my parents and myself at all times, in adversity as 
 well as prosperity, and that I must now turn from the 
 scenes of my childhood, and enter upon the realities of life. 
 And, while I cannot bury the past in oblivion, I cannot 
 but be sensible of the crushing weight of the responsibili 
 ties of the future which I am to bear. And, oh, I fear that 
 I shall not prove equal to the task; and I beg beg? no, I 
 claim your manly forbearance and charity, pledging you, 
 before my God, that, so long as life lasts, I will ever and 
 at all times prove myself your loving and devoted wife. 1 ' 
 
 He clasped me to his bosom, and for a moment we 
 were silent ; at last he spoke, as follows : 
 
 11*
 
 126 A SPA SI A. 
 
 11 We will not deplore, then, the days that are past ; 
 The gloom of misfortune is over them cast ; 
 They were lengthened by sorrow, and sullied by care; 
 Their griefs were too many, their joys were too rare ; 
 Yet now, that their shadows are on us no more, 
 Let us welcome the prospect that brightens before. 
 
 "Oh let us no longer, then, vainly lament 
 Over scenes that have faded, or days that are spent; 
 But, by faith unforsaken, unawed by mischance, 
 On hope's waving banner still fixed be our glance; 
 And, should fortune prove cruel and false to the last, 
 Let us look to the future and not to the past." 
 
 " Very well," said I, "but, 
 
 "As we look back through life in our moments of sadness, 
 How few and how brief are its gloamings of gladness; 
 Yet we find, midst the gloom that our pathway o'ershaded, 
 A few spots of sunshine, a few flowers unfaded ; 
 And memory still hoards, as her richest of treasures, 
 Some moments of rapture, some exquisite pleasures." 
 
 Monday came, and sister Kate and myself commenced, 
 packing the large Saratoga trunk, which, by some strange 
 freak of fortune, had fallen to me. 
 
 1 say fortune, and indeed it was; for I could not have 
 provided myself w r ith one at this time, for lack of money. 
 
 Tuesday morning came, and, bidding the dear ones 
 "good-by," we were safe on board the cars for the city 
 that was to be my future home. 
 
 We arrived in Boston at half-past four P.M. of that 
 day, "safe and sound;" and I was overjoyed and as 
 tounded to find my old friend Rose, and her husband and 
 some twenty or thirty other gentlemen, and as many 
 ladies, in waiting at the depot to welcome us on our 
 arrival, and escort us to Mrs. Shepherd's mansion.
 
 ASPASIA. 127 
 
 I afterward learned from my husband that, according 
 to agreement, he telegraphed Mrs. Shepherd in the morn 
 ing when he expected to arrive, and said nothing to me, 
 preferring to take me by surprise, to see how I should 
 appear under circumstances so calculated to embarrass 
 almost any lady. 
 
 "Well," said I, "how did I appear ?" 
 
 " Splendidly," he replied. 
 
 " Thank you, my dear," said I. " I hope I may always 
 please you, and receive in return the devotion of your 
 noble heart." 
 
 Being wearied with my day's ride, and the excitement 
 consequent upon the circumstances which I have nar 
 rated, I retired to rest early. 
 
 I passed the following day (Wednesday) very pleas 
 antly with Mrs. Shepherd; and that evening we all at 
 tended the church social-meeting, and it was indeed a 
 precious season. I noticed (or at least I thought I did) 
 that my husband was considerably affected; which gave 
 me great encouragement. I had vowed to God never 
 to cease my prayers nor my pleadings for and with 
 him. For however much I loved him, and however 
 intense was his love for me, I could not feel safe and 
 secure in his pledges unless I had the fullest assurance 
 that he had been renewed in the spirit of his mind by 
 the power and grace of God. I had learned that all the 
 resolutions of a soul unsanctified by grace were weak 
 and unreliable, and, however good the moral intentions 
 were, in the day of extreme temptation that soul would 
 fall away; and therefore my only safety for the future 
 of my life rested in the results of the operation of 
 God's Spirit upon my dear husband's heart. I was de 
 termined to perform my duty at the throne of grace in 
 his behalf; well knowing that if I did the Holy Spirit
 
 128 ASP AS I A. 
 
 would surely manifest His presence, which would result 
 either in his conversion or tend to harden him in sin. If 
 the former, the glory would be God's ; if the latter, he 
 would have to "bear his own iniquity," and I should 
 "save my own soul." 
 
 And here I will say to my young readers, as you are 
 coming up the steep and rugged paths of life, you will 
 find nothing that will soften down the asperities of the 
 way like a well-grounded hope in Christ. You may start 
 out in your own strength with the best resolves ; but you 
 Avill meet here and there, as you clamber over the cliffs, 
 the fiery darts of temptation hurled against you with such 
 rapidity and force that you will not be able to maintain 
 your standing in the road, or to pursue your journey by 
 your own strength, skill, or nerve. You will then find 
 that you need the aid of one stronger than yourself; and 
 Jesus is that one. lie said, " My strength is sufficient 
 for thee." He " has trodden the wine-press of the wrath 
 of God alone," " when there was none to help," and knows 
 full well how to pity poor, weak, fallen humanity. There 
 fore it is that "He ever liveth to make intercession for 
 us, with groanings which cannot bo uttered." 
 
 The friends of Mrs. Shepherd were anxious she should 
 give my wedding party on Wednesday evening ; but she 
 declined. Both herself and husband were devoted Chris 
 tians ; and, although they enjoyed the innocent pleasures 
 of life to a degree exceeded by none, and were possessed 
 of ample wealth to afford them all the luxuries which their 
 souls might crave, yet they squared their whole life by 
 the principles of Christ's teachings, and were always 
 happy. 
 
 Thursday evening came, and with it my wedding-party 
 at Mrs. Shepherd's. 
 
 The elegant parlors and reception-rooms were thrown
 
 AS PAST A. 129 
 
 open to the brilliant party assembled, and the elite of the 
 city, to the number of over four hundred, were present. 
 All that wealth could do was done to render the party a 
 brilliant one; the ladies fairly sparkled with diamonds. 
 The evening passed off very pleasantly ; I formed many 
 new acquaintances, some of whom afterward became 
 valuable friends. 
 
 Late in the evening dancing commenced, and I received 
 several invitations to dance, all of which I was compelled 
 to decline, from the simple reason that I did not know 
 how. One gentleman, a Mr. Howard, who very politely 
 invited me to dance with him, and received my oft-re 
 peated excuse, felt himself called upon to discuss the 
 dancing question ; and, expressing his surprise that a lady 
 who occupied so exalted a position in society as myself 
 should not understand the dance, inquired whether I 
 thought it wrong to dance. I replied that, so far as the 
 simple act of dancing, or jumping up and down, was con 
 cerned, there was nothing sinful or immoral ; but I thought 
 it a very foolish amusement, and one that led to immoral 
 practices, the tendency of which was deleterious to so 
 ciety. True, it did not produce this effect upon all who 
 participated in it, nor upon a majority, for, if it did, so 
 ciety would indeed be in a pitiable condition ; but for a 
 young gentleman or lady to engage in it under all circum 
 stances, when opportunity offered, it certainly would re 
 quire a heroic mind to resist the evil influences engen 
 dered by such associations ; therefore it was that I dis 
 approved of it, and, aside from that, I thought it a very 
 foolish amusement ; and that if the time spent by ladies 
 and gentlemen in dancing could be occupied in conversa 
 tion upon subjects that were elevating to the mind, I felt 
 sure its influence in moulding society for good would be 
 felt and appreciated.
 
 130 A SPA SI A. 
 
 I begged the gentleman's pardon for so fully expressing 
 my views, but since he had, as he supposed, "flanked my 
 battery," I was compelled either to resist or retreat: the 
 latter I never do, at least not until I have exhausted my 
 means of defense. He would, therefore, please excuse 
 me without offense ; which he very pleasantly assured me 
 he did, remarking, " I shall think of what you have said, 
 for I am inclined to respect your judgment." 
 
 At a late hour the party broke up, and the guests each 
 gave us a hearty parting salutation as they left. 
 
 Thus ended the introduction of Mr. and Mrs. Good- 
 speed to the elite of Boston society. 
 
 We spent the remainder of the week, and until the 
 Monday following, at Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd's, and 
 passed the time pleasantly in reminiscences of former 
 days and prognostications of the future ; but, although 
 in my marriage everything was as propitious as heart 
 could wish, still, when left to my own reflections, a cer 
 tain sort of sadness came over me at the thought that I 
 had lived out one period of my life, and that, too, a very 
 important one, and had, so far as I could discover, fallen 
 far short of my privileges in the accomplishment of the 
 highest good for which I was born. 
 
 Sabbath came, and with it we all repaired to church ; 
 and after the voluntary on the grand old organ, by one of 
 the best performers I ever had the pleasure of listening 
 to, the venerable divine arose, and read the following 
 hymn : 
 
 " Blest be the tie that binds 
 Our hearts in Christian love." 
 
 The pastor requested that the whole congregation, or 
 all who could, should join in singing this old and familiar 
 hymn. I really do not know that my recent marriage had
 
 ASPASIA. 131 
 
 anything to do with the reading of that hymn, but I con 
 fess I could not help feeling that it had. The sermon, 
 which, by the way, exhibited a high order of talent in the 
 writer, was upon the establishment of the kingdom of 
 Jesus Christ upon the earth. 
 
 The theory advanced by the venerable divine was, that 
 the thousand years of the millennium would be three hun 
 dred and sixty-five thousand years as we reckon time, 
 " for a thousand years are with God as one day ;" " and 
 that during that period Jesus would reign as king in per 
 son upon the earth, and peace and righteousness cover 
 the earth as waters do the great deep;" "that death from 
 disease would gradually decrease until no such thing 
 would be known" (and here I said to myself, " What 
 will become of doctors?"); "and that death by violence 
 would not occur at all : the earth will rapidly return to 
 its original estate of beauty, purity, and perfection, and 
 the savage beasts lose their ferocity, and there will be 
 a literal fulfillment of the prophecy, 'The lion shall lie 
 down, etc.;' and, at the end of this period, death will be 
 banished from the earth, and the whole earth will be 
 made as beautiful as the garden of Eden when God 
 looked upon it at the first, and saw that it was very good. 
 And it will be peopled with an immortal race of beings ; 
 all who have previously died, trusting in Christ, shall rise 
 to newness of life, and, with all who are then living, will 
 put on immortality; and, as stated in the 24th verse of the 
 loth chapter of 2d Corinthians, Jesus will then deliver up 
 the kingdom, as an interceding priest, to God, even the 
 Father God, and then will be fulfilled the vision of the 
 relation of a new heaven and a new earth, for the first 
 heaven (meaning the spirit-world, where the; souls of the 
 saints repose until the final judgment) and tin- lirst earth 
 (referring to this sin-cursed earth as it now appears) were
 
 132 A S PAS 1. 4. 
 
 passed away ; then will also be fulfilled that which was 
 spoken by Jesus, 'The meek shall inherit the earth.' 
 Jesus will then appear all-glorious, exalted by God to 
 be a King and a Prince forever; God will triumph over 
 the works of Satan, the earth will be purified and re 
 stored as before the fall, and man redeemed from sin, and 
 from under the curse of the law, made pure and holy, as 
 at the first, and the earth his everlasting home with Jesus 
 his King." 
 
 The sermon was intensely interesting throughout its 
 entire delivery. 
 
 I would like to give a fuller synopsis of the discourse, 
 with his references, had I time. 
 
 I accept the theory of a purified and redeemed earth as 
 the future eternal heaven with pleasure, and I fancy that 
 if this doctrine were more generally preached, its tend 
 ency would be to remove a great deal of skepticism from 
 the minds of men ; for we are all so constituted that it is 
 difficult to believe in a heaven without a locality, quite as 
 difficult as to believe in a God without a person. 
 
 Why is it that the heathen in all ages have had, and 
 still have, their images of wood and stone ? It is simply 
 because they represent their ideal of God, or gods, not 
 that they really are gods, but the ideal of God. 
 
 Thus it was that Christ the Lord God came from heaven 
 in the person of Jesus, that he might satisfy this demand 
 of man for a perfect intelligence, on whom man could 
 look, knowing him as God. 
 
 "And thus he was lifted up as the brazen serpent was 
 lifted up in the wilderness, that all who looked might 
 live." 
 
 On returning from church, Mr. Shepherd inquired of 
 me what I thought of the sermon. I replied that I was 
 highly entertained and instructed ; the ideas advanced
 
 A SPA SI A. 133 
 
 might be, and probably were, new to many, but they 
 were so forcibly presented, and so clearly substantiated 
 by Bible texts, and all harmonized so perfectly with my 
 preconceived views of heaven as a locality, and the soul's 
 want of a theory of this sort, based upon the Bible, 
 reason, and sound judgment, that I most heartily indorsed 
 them. And one sublime thought, not adverted to by the 
 speaker, but which naturally grew out of the sermon, and 
 struck me with great force, and in the consideration of 
 which the mind becomes completely overwhelmed, is the 
 degree of perfection which men will attain in the arts and 
 sciences during those three hundred and sixty five thou 
 sand years spoken of by the preacher. 
 
 What wonderful advancement in knowledge has been 
 made by man during the last half century ! Then alt 
 travel was by the slowcoach; day after day and night 
 after night, jolting along the highway, and but one short 
 journey could be made in a twelvemonth, by reason of 
 the time, expense, and fatigue consequent upon the mode 
 of conveyance. 
 
 And by water it was subjecting one's self to the monot 
 onous swell of the waves, being slowly urged forward by 
 heaven's gentle breezes, or, betimes, driven with violence 
 before the storm. 
 
 Now two weeks is sufficient in which to cross the 
 broad Atlantic in a floating palace, propelled by the 
 mighty unseen force of steam. 
 
 And we can compass a continent in a single week in a 
 palace on wheels, drawn by the iron horse. 
 
 And, so far as time, the fatigue and expense of travel, 
 and written correspondence are concerned, friends who are 
 to-day separated by thousands of miles are neighbors 
 close at hand, as compared with the times and circum 
 stances of fifty years ago. 
 
 12
 
 134 ASP ASIA. 
 
 And being able, as we are, to bridle that mysterious, 
 unseen force we call electricity, and drive it by any route 
 we choose, we can, by its aid, send a message, as quick as 
 thought, from one end of the earth to the other, or around 
 the world; and thus men who are separated as wide as the 
 world talk to each other as neighbors. 
 
 Turn over the pages of the past, one, two, three, four 
 hundred years, and contrast the condition of the world 
 then with the present. Then " darkness covered the 
 earth, and gross darkness the people ;" but now the light 
 of God's truth shines (though dimly) in the minds and 
 hearts of men; and thus the mind, directed by Bible- 
 teachings, intelligently searching for God, that great, all- 
 powerful, unseen force, has become by degrees, and in a 
 measure, enlightened, and able to develop and apply to 
 practical use wonderful inventions in the arts and sciences, 
 even to count the stars all by name, and in all knowledge 
 to so far excel his fellow of the past, that could one of 
 the sleepers of a hundred years ago now step out upon 
 earth and witness the progress of this age, he would, in 
 his astonishment, be inclined to exclaim, " Indeed, ye 
 are gods, and not men." 
 
 Now, then, in view of the unlimited growth of mind, 
 and reasoning from analogy, what a glorious world will 
 this be a hundred thousand years hence, or, if that is too 
 far a stretch of the mind, how glorious will the world be 
 come one thousand years hence! The man of intelligence 
 of this day will be but a mere pigmy, as compared with 
 him who shall stand upon the same ground a hundred 
 thousand years hence ; and I believe that the souls of all 
 those who have died, and those who will die, will, in their 
 advancement, keep pace with the increase of knowledge 
 among men on the earth, and thus be fitted in all things, 
 at the great resurrection, for associating with the count-
 
 AS f ASIA. 135 
 
 less millions of earth's inhabitants when the " kingdom 
 shall be given up to God the Father, and Jesus Christ 
 shall take to himself his almighty power and reign." 
 
 " Well," replied Mr. Shepherd, " I was myself greatly 
 interested in the sermon, but, not being so well prepared 
 to accept the doctrines and theories advanced as you 
 were, I did not so fully appreciate them, but I do now, 
 and I most sincerely thank you for your elucidation of 
 the subject."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ON Monday we left our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd, 
 and commenced boarding, having obtained a very pleas 
 ant suite of rooms, which my husband furnished in elegant 
 style. 
 
 And as I look back over my married life, I find the 
 days spent in those rooms among my happiest. 
 
 We took a pew in Dr. Eddy's church, and I united 
 with the church by letter ; and, while it was a happy 
 thought that in the city of my new home I found, 
 through the channels of religion, the same congeniality 
 that 1 had ever enjoyed at my old home, yet it was a 
 painful thought that my dear husband, him whom I had 
 taken as the partner of my life, the sharer of my joys 
 and sorrows, could not join with me in communing with 
 Jesus. 
 
 Soon after uniting with the church I was urged to 
 teach in the Sabbath-school. My husband was at first 
 inclined to object, for he said he was so intensely occu 
 pied in his business during the week that he desired my 
 company on the Sabbath ; but I persuaded him, and he 
 gave his consent. 
 
 I took charge of a large class of young ladies: several, 
 however, were not very young, in fact, some were older 
 even than myself. I soon found many of them so intel 
 ligent that it required pretty close study on my part, 
 during my leisure hours, to fit myself for the duties of the 
 Sabbath. And my husband would, at such times, up- 
 (136)
 
 ASP AS I A. 13T 
 
 braid me, and urge me to abandon the class, to which I 
 replied, "Never. I never abandon anything I undertake. 
 'I must be about my Master's business.' If I can do any- 
 good, you certainly are willing that I may. I am sure 
 you would delight to have it said that your wife is one of 
 the leading ladies in the church, would you not ?" At 
 the same time, throwing my arms about his neck, I gave 
 him a good, hearty kiss. 
 
 I used that argument with him to stimulate generous 
 impulses, through his pride; and I succeeded, for he 
 replied : 
 
 " I do not like to see you toiling so hard for nothing ; 
 but, if it affords you any pleasure, I have no objection." 
 
 And many an evening thereafter, while preparing my 
 self for the discussion of a difficult theme, he would vol 
 unteer his assistance in my researches, until he became 
 interested to such an extent that he was almost induced 
 to become a member of a gentleman's class himself; but, 
 alas! how difficult it is for men, whose minds are ab 
 sorbed in the things of this life, to bring themselves to a 
 practical consideration of those things which are of vastly 
 greater importance to them than all earthly treasures! 
 
 I am not opposed to wealth, far from it, or to that 
 diligence which maketh rich. The possession of wealth 
 need not of necessity encumber a person's soul ; but that 
 it does so, in very many cases, cannot be denied, while, 
 at the same time, there are those \vlio are made stewards 
 of God's bounties, who glorify God with their substance; 
 they are ever on the alert to search out the poor and dis 
 tressed and alleviate their wants. These are the salt of 
 the earth ; and were it not for the seasoning such men 
 impart, society would be in a deplorable condition. 
 
 Weeks and months passed away. One year had about 
 expired, for which we engaged board, and I was e.\-
 
 133 A SPA SI A. 
 
 peeling soon to commence housekeeping, when I was 
 taken very ill; and, aside from my physical suffering, I 
 grieved at being confined to my room, on account of my 
 husband's anxiety to move into his new house, just 
 furnished and ready; for he was anticipating great pleas 
 ure (as he said) "at commencing to live." 
 
 Finding that I was not likely to recover rapidly from 
 my illness, I was, in a few weeks, removed carefully to 
 our new house; and all that a loving husband and at 
 tentive servants and the aid of friends could do was done 
 to render me comfortable and hasten my recovery. 
 
 It was not long thereafter that I presented my husband 
 his first-born, a beautiful boy. 
 
 So soon as I was able to ride we took him to the font, 
 before the altar, and dedicated him to God in baptism. 
 We named him for my lost brother William. 
 
 Oh, how many hours have I sat and anxiously watched 
 the countenance of that little angel as he lay in the basket- 
 cradle, like some waif, the lost jewel of the Great King, 
 and tried to divine from the lineaments of the beautiful 
 face the character of that immortal mind, which was 
 comparatively dormant, and only developed itself uncon 
 sciously as the wants of nature demanded. 
 
 My husband now became more attached to home than 
 ever before ; his darling boy seemed the idol of his heart", 
 and, as he grew in stature, so he also grew in his father's 
 affections. 
 
 Time passed on, and I presented my husband with two 
 daughters, perfect in body and mind, for which we sin 
 cerely thanked a kind Providence. We named the eldest 
 Rose, in memory of my dearest friend, and the youngest 
 Bell, .for one who, by her virtues, contributed to the hap 
 piness of my social life in youth. 
 
 Our boy William had come to be ten years of age,
 
 ASP A SI A. 139 
 
 our eldest daughter, Rose, eight, and Bell six years of 
 age ; and they had all been thoroughly instructed from 
 the Bible from the time they could lisp the name of Jesus ; 
 and every Sabbath found them in their classes at the 
 Sabbath-school. 
 
 About this time I observed that my dear husband did 
 not seem to respect my religious views as much as 
 formerly, and needlessly absented himself from church, 
 offering some frivolous excuse; all of which pained me 
 deeply. He was kind to me in all other respects. Pos 
 sessed, as he was, of ample means, and carrying on a very 
 profitable business, I was not allowed to feel the want of 
 anything, neither were the children, and he freely gave 
 me money to appropriate for charitable objects as I 
 saw fit. 
 
 And in my reflections upon my dear husband's course 
 of life, I could but think that he was in the same sad 
 case as the young man spoken of by Christ. " One 
 thing thou lackest." And I prayed more fervently for 
 him than ever. In the morning, after he had left for his 
 business, and at night, previous to his return, I would 
 gather my dear children about me, and, all kneeling be 
 fore God, I would pour out my soul's earnest desire that 
 my children might be carried like lambs in Christ's 
 bosom, and be preserved from the temptations and snares 
 of this life. Then, oh, then it was that I felt the need of 
 a sympathizing heart, to go with me to the mercy-seal. 
 
 And bidding the children to go about their plays, I 
 would agonize in behalf of my dear husband, determined 
 never to cease my pleadings until I should be permitted 
 t<> Bee the answer to my supplications. 
 
 Time passed on, and my husband, from neglecting one 
 duty after another, also began to negleet his family; and, 
 notwithstanding my earnest entreaties to the contrary,
 
 140 ASPASIA. 
 
 he would frequent the club-room, returning at a late 
 hour of the night, his clothing scented with the noxious 
 fumes of tobacco, and occasionally I detected the odor of 
 ardent spirits. 
 
 I always sat up for him. Never, I think, in a single 
 instance, did I retire until his return. This he did not 
 like, and urged me to retire at a seasonable hour ; but I 
 peremptorily declined, giving as my reason that his wel 
 fare, temporal and spiritual, was as dear to me as my 
 own soul, and I could not, and would not, retire to rest 
 any night until I knew he was safe. 
 
 I never upbraided him, but I would do all in my power 
 each night, on his return, to render him comfortable and 
 happy. 
 
 I was finally taken violently sick with fever, which 
 soon assumed the typhoid form, and for one week I was 
 delirious. During that time my husband (as I afterward 
 learned) did not leave my bedside for an hour at a time, 
 day nor night. He was very much alarmed lest I should 
 not recover. And when I had so far rallied as to be able 
 to converse with him, oh, what deep regrets did he ex 
 press at his course of life during the years previous, and 
 with what earnestness did he beg my pardon for his 
 neglect ! 
 
 I drew him to my pillow, and, with one of my warm 
 est kisses, said I, "My dear husband, you are too good to 
 cruelly neglect your family, unless you give yourself up 
 to the influence of wicked persons. Oh, that you would 
 give your heart to Jesus, to be wholly influenced by his 
 Spirit ! then there would be no danger ; but you cannot 
 keep yourself." 
 
 " Yes, I can, "" he replied, " and I shall never again treat 
 you so ill." And he wept like a child.
 
 A SPA SI A. 141 
 
 "Alas !" said I to myself, " how little he knows of the 
 frailty of man." 
 
 I was now so far recovered that my children (precious 
 souls) were permitted to be about, and upon my bed. 
 It was a great blessing- that I could thus again enjoy 
 them, and listen to their hearty congratulations upon my 
 recovery. 
 
 I continued to grow better each day gradually, until, 
 in the course of two months, I had regained my usual 
 strength. My friends, Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd, were 
 very solicitous as to the result of my severe sickness, 
 and were untiring in their efforts to alleviate my suffer 
 ings and promote my speedy recovery. Many friends in 
 the church and out of it were also attentive to me. 
 
 Upon riding to Mrs. Shepherd's (my first after my 
 sickness), it seemed as though I was a new creature, or 
 else I was in a new and beautiful world. 
 
 Have any of my readers ever been brought low by 
 sickness, and confined for weeks by a burning fever, 
 which well-nigh exhausted the system? 
 
 If so, upon going out into the world again, how new 
 everything appears ! one seems to look with new and 
 clearer eyes ; and every person you meet seems a friend. 
 What the philosophy of this is I do not undertake to 
 say ; but this was my experience, and I doubt not it is 
 that of others. 
 
 I suppose it is accounted for, in part, from the fact that 
 during a long confinement the mind is divested of all 
 perplexing cares or vexatious problems, and reasons with 
 itself, and to a very great extent (in some more than 
 others) divests itself of selfishness, and views humanity 
 from the broad base of neighborly or brotherly affection. 
 
 Again; by being brought low in sickness, thus ren-
 
 142 ASP AS I A. 
 
 dered helpless, and wholly dependent upon others, the 
 individual comes to realize his weakness and dependence 
 upon his fellow-man; and consequently his first associa 
 tions with the world will be characterized by love. 
 
 Nothing but a consciousness of our weakness and per 
 sonal inability, whether mental or physical, will ever 
 bring us into such a condition of humility as to cause us 
 to appreciate either God or our fellows ; and, indeed, this 
 sort of affliction (sickness) is absolutely essential to some 
 people, to render them even endurable as neighbors. 
 
 I once knew a lady who was violent in her denuncia 
 tions of all her acquaintances, proud, arrogant, and de 
 fiant, when she had enjoyed health for months ; but, 
 after being brought low in sickness (as she was many 
 times), she was kind, soft-tempered, and quite lovable ; 
 all of which would wear off as she regained her strength 
 and vigor, until it was the oft-expressed wish that "Mrs. 
 Scott would have the fever again." 
 
 For several months after my recovery my husband 
 remained firm in his promises of faithfulness to his family, 
 and, with our three lovely children about us, we enjoyed 
 a happy, happy home. 
 
 But, alas ! how delicate and frail is the rose of earth's 
 pleasure ! In an hour it withers, droops, and dies. 
 
 God had raised me up from the very threshold of the 
 grave, to lead me through the deep waters of trouble and 
 adversity, to test my faith still stronger, and thus fit me 
 for greater usefulness in this life, and a more exalted 
 state in the future life of the soul.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MY mind has been so deeply absorbed in my own 
 affairs, and in the affairs of my precious family, that I 
 have neglected to chronicle events that have transpired 
 relating more especially to other friends. 
 
 Just previous to my severe sickness, taking my chil 
 dren with me, I visited my friends at my native town. 
 By this time sister Kate's children had grown up around 
 her like the fair, fresh, and healthy shoots under the 
 shade, and by the aid of the life-giving principles of the 
 noble parent-tree from which they sprang. 
 
 And although I thought my children were good (and 
 they were), yet, when brought side by side with Kale's, 
 I could but note the contrast. And I remarked to her 
 that I believed my children were as good as they could 
 be, and hers were good because they could not be other 
 wise. The difference in the temperaments of the two 
 families was striking, and this was the cause of the dif 
 ference in the conduct of the children : education was 
 not at fault in either case. 
 
 I found my father quite feeble ; for, although he was 
 borne up under his trials by the Christian's hope, y t 
 there was a conflict of mind constantly going on that 
 impaired greatly the vigor of his physical system ; and I 
 was pained to note, while there, a gradual weakness 
 coming upon him, and I could but think that he had not 
 long to live. 
 
 (143)
 
 144 A SPA SI A. 
 
 Aii affair occurred in connection with the church while 
 I was there, which I will relate, simply to show the 
 faculty possessed by the Rev. Mr. Shaw, my brother-in- 
 law, to heal dissensions in his church and between mem 
 bers, and preserve peace, and at the same time endear 
 himself more than ever to his people. 
 
 As a wounded Wrd flutters in its agony, fearful of all 
 about it, and tries to escape even from the hand of one 
 who would bind up its wound and protect it from harm, 
 so it was w T ith the lady member of Mr. Shaw's church 
 who was wounded by the darts of evil-minded sisters in 
 the church ; but, as the sequel will show, her faith was 
 stronger than her fears, and, through the skill and man 
 agement of her pastor, her usefulness was not in the least 
 impaired. 
 
 The circumstances of the case were as follows: 
 
 A most excellent lady, by the name of Johnson, a 
 member of Mr. Shaw's church, had taken a very active 
 part in all church enterprises. If, for instance, there was 
 to be a church fair, Mrs. Johnson was the lady who 
 would first move in the matter, and by her talents and 
 energy, and remarkable executive ability, it was always 
 sure to succeed, and that, too, profitably. So with any 
 and all affairs in connection with the church, until it came 
 to this, that before any undertaking was commenced 
 it was conceded necessary that it should receive Mrs. 
 Johnson's indorsement in order to insure success. 
 
 And certain evil-minded ladies in the church had be 
 come very jealous of Mrs. Johnson's increasing popu 
 larity, and sought to find something against her, to accuse 
 her before the church, " to humble her," as they said. 
 They could find nothing immoral in her character, and 
 she never committed a mistake in her management of the 
 several societies of which she was the presiding officer.
 
 A SPA SI A. 145 
 
 Three of these ladies, viz., Mrs. Wood, Mrs. Smith, and 
 Mrs. White, called on the pastor to enter a complaint, 
 saying Mrs. Johnson ought to be restrained from putting 
 herself forward so much, for the reason that her husband 
 was not a member of the church. They said it didn't 
 look well to them to see a lady, whose husband was not a 
 church-member, to be making herself quite so officious, 
 and they hoped Mr. Shaw would at once call upon Mrs. 
 Johnson and talk with her about it, and get her to re 
 sign. 
 
 " Resign what ?" inquired Mr. Shaw. 
 
 "Why," said they, "resign her offices. She is the 
 President of the Sewing Society, President of the Ladies' 
 Relief Society, and President of the Ladies' Washing- 
 tonian Society." 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Shaw, "suppose she would resign 
 all those offices, whom could you get to take her place ? 
 If I am going to see her and make your proposition, she 
 would first inquire who would accept those offices. For 
 I am sure she would be glad to resign if she knew the 
 duties of each office would be properly attended to." 
 
 " Resign !" said they: "we are surprised." 
 
 "Can't help that," replied Mr. Shaw. "I know Mrs. 
 Johnson so well, that I am sure she would be glad to be 
 relieved, if she knew the positions would be well filled." 
 
 To this they expressed great astonishment. " For," 
 said Mrs. Wood, " I can't understand why any one should 
 wish to resign so respectable a position." 
 
 Mr. Shaw replied that it was* not every respeH:tble 
 position that made the occupant respectable, or even re 
 spected; but a respectable person would dignify and 
 render respectable any position he might be called to 
 occupy. 
 
 13
 
 146 ASP AS I A. 
 
 "Ami no\v, ladies, please allow me to say that a sister 
 in the church, whom I shall not name, has called on me 
 and informed me that Mrs. Johnson has heard that some 
 thing of this sort is going on, and she is feeling very 
 badly about it. She says she has done all she could for 
 the church with no selfish motives, and thinks I ought to 
 use my influence to crush out the feeling against her, and 
 I thought of calling on her this afternoon; but, from what 
 1 have learned of her feelings, I thought it best to let her 
 alone a few days. 
 
 " But now you have one proposition for me to make 
 to Mrs. Johnson, viz., that she resign her presidencies. 
 Whom would you suggest as her successor?" 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. White, " I don't believe any one 
 lady ought to think of filling all those offices." 
 
 "Neither do I," said Mrs. Smith; "and I would sug 
 gest Mrs. White as President of the Sewing Society." 
 
 " Thank you," said Mrs. White : " I didn't think of such 
 a thing. But I will suggest Mrs. Wood as President of 
 the Ladies' Relief Society." 
 
 "Thank you," said Mrs. Wood: "I really ought to 
 consult my husband before I accept it. And I would sug 
 gest Mrs. Smith as President of the Washingtonian So 
 ciety." 
 
 " Well, ladies," said Mr. Shaw, "you have been so kind 
 as to nominate three most excellent persons to succeed 
 Mrs. Johnson in case she resigns, and persons of all 
 others that I believe she would choose herself, and I have 
 very little doubt but shp will resign if asked to. But the 
 complaint you urge I do not quite see the force of. You 
 say your objection to Mrs. Johnson is chiefly because her 
 husband is not a member of the church. Now, my opin 
 ion is, that is the very reason why she should be sus 
 tained in holding those offices. For, in the first place,
 
 ASPASIA. 147 
 
 every one concedes that Mr. Johnson is one of the best 
 men in the town." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Shaw !" said they. " You a minister, and 
 yet say that a man who is not a member of the church is 
 one of the best men in the town." 
 
 " Yes, most assuredly I do," replied Mr. Shaw. " Is 
 there any brother in our church who attends meetings 
 more regularly than Mr. Johnson, or who pays more 
 devout attention to the preaching than he, or one who 
 contributes more liberally for the support of the church 
 than he ?" 
 
 "No," said Mrs. White; "that is all very true; but, 
 then, you know that a man may do all these and yet not 
 be a Christian." 
 
 "Very true," replied Mr. Shaw. "But is there any 
 man in this town who contributes more liberally to alle 
 viate the poor in their distresses than does he, or one 
 who is more attentive and kind to the sick of the neigh 
 borhood ? And did you ever hear a person say that there 
 were any indications of dishonesty in his dealings with 
 others ?" 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Smith ; " but this moral way of living 
 does not constitute a man a Christian." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Shaw, " will not a sincere Christian 
 do just as Mr. Johnson does ?" 
 
 "Well, yes," said Mrs. Wood; "but they will do it 
 from a pure motive." 
 
 " How do you know that Mr. Johnson is not actuated 
 from the purest of motives? Have you ever looked into 
 a man's heart, so as to be able to judge correctly of the 
 motive which prompts his acts ? Christ said (not by 
 their motives, but), By their fruits ye shall know them. 
 And as the fruits of the Christian's life, he enumerates 
 these very duties which you confess Mr. Johnson per-
 
 148 A SPA SI A. 
 
 forms. Therefore, what right have you or I to say that 
 Mr. Johnson is not a Christian ? 
 
 " We hear of no neighborhood-quarrels he is engaged 
 in, while, as you may be aware, we have church-mem 
 bers who are continually in trouble with their neighbors. 
 I should be rejoiced could Mr. Johnson see it his duty, as 
 well as privilege, to unite with the church, for he would 
 be a very efficient member, and, I doubt not, would stim 
 ulate others to a higher degree of piety; but you should 
 understand, ladies, that the church never saves a soul, 
 while the united prayers of God's people may and do 
 prevail with God to save men; but the simple fact of 
 subscribing to our creed, and having one's name entered 
 on the roll of the church, is of itself of no avail for our 
 salvation; that does not constitute a Christian, by any 
 means; but, on the contrary, if we, before the world, 
 put on the garments of righteousness, and then live as 
 sinners live, and even worse than some sinners do, we 
 shall be like the foolish virgins who had no oil in their 
 lamps. 
 
 " Christ says, 'Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, 
 Lord, have we not eaten and drunk in thy name, etc., shall 
 inherit the kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth the will 
 of my Father.' " 
 
 The ladies looked with astonishment at Mr. Shaw 
 while he was thus addressing them. They seemed to 
 feel convicted of their guilt, and sat in silence for a 
 moment. At length, rising from her chair, said Mrs. 
 White, "Ladies, hadn't we better be going?" Accord 
 ingly, they all at once withdrew, saying, as they left the 
 house, they would endeavor to see him again upon this 
 matter. 
 
 Several weeks passed without Mr. Shaw's hearing any 
 thing further of the affair, and he hoped the troublesome
 
 AS PAS I A. 149 
 
 sisters had profited by his remarks ; of course he said no 
 thing to Mrs. Johnson about it. 
 
 One afternoon, as Mr. Shaw was writing in his study, 
 Deacon Jones called, and, after exchanging the ordinary 
 salutations, said he, 
 
 " Sisters White, Wood, and Smith all called on me yes 
 terday to enter a complaint against Sister Johnson, which, 
 if true, ought to be examined into, and they insist that 
 she shall be brought before the church. I directed them 
 to you, but they said they had seen you once, and should 
 not again." 
 
 Mr. Shaw then detailed the conversation he had with 
 the lovely sisters, which somewhat astonished the deacon, 
 and said he, 
 
 "I think it would be very unwise to call Mrs. Johnson 
 before the church; it would result in no good, and might 
 in great evil. I will call on her, and see what she has to 
 say; if she has been saying anything wrong of those 
 sisters, as stated by them, or guilty of any of those im 
 moral practices, as they represent, she may acknowledge 
 it and ask pardon ; if so, that is all that can be required 
 of her; but, deacon, I do not believe one word of it. Is 
 there any other flagrant sin they charge upon her ?" 
 
 Yes," said the deacon, " dancing." 
 
 "Dancing?" .said Mr. Shaw. "Where, and when?" 
 
 The deacon replied, " I cannot tell anything more about 
 it." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Shaw, " you go and tell those women, 
 in the first place, to clean the inside of their own platters, 
 and then, if they know of any flagrant sin that Mrs. 
 Johnson persists in committing, to present (heir elm 
 in writing, and \ve will take- them up tit once." 
 
 With this the good old deacon left, and reported to the 
 women as directed. 
 
 13*
 
 150 A SPA SI A. 
 
 A few days after this interview the deacon called again 
 on the pastor, and handed him a letter, of which the fol 
 lowing is a copy : 
 
 " To THE REV. MR. SHAW, PASTOR, AND DEACONS JONES, 
 SPRAGUE, AND FISH. 
 
 "BRETHREN : In our zeal for the interests of the church, 
 we have made it a point, at all times, to carefully watch 
 the brethren and sisters of the church, as we solemnly 
 agreed and covenanted to do, and, if possible, to find 
 some fault with them, and especially with such as are 
 officious, and were very forward to pray or exhort in meet 
 ings any oftener than they are justiiied by the rules of 
 propriety, or who, in any manner, seem to assume to lead 
 the people ; for we do not believe a person can be a Chris 
 tian, and a fit member of the church, unless he or she is 
 humble and does not attempt to put themselves forward. 
 
 " We have watched Sister Johnson for a long time, and 
 it has pained us to see how officious and proud she has 
 become, and to us it is an evident sign of want of grace 
 in her heart. We feel that it is unsafe for the church to 
 retain such a member, for there is great danger to us all 
 from her influences ; and we charge Sister Johnson, among 
 other sins which she delights in, with that of dancing ; and 
 we insist that an examination be had before the church. 
 " Truly your sisters in the church, 
 
 " MRS. WHITE, WOOD, and SMITH " 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Shaw, "this is a precious document ! 
 What do these mischief-makers want ? Do they wish to 
 break up the church ? to cause dissensions and bickerings ? 
 I wish they would mind their business. Deacon, can't 
 you persuade their husbands to send them away for a
 
 A SPAS I A. 151 
 
 visit, and see if they will not forget their chosen occupa 
 tion for awhile, and let the church have rest ? But, joking 
 aside, you call here to-morrow at two P.M , and we will 
 go and see Sister Johnson, and learn what she has to 
 say." With this the deacon left. 
 
 The morrow came, and, at the appointed time, Deacon 
 Jones drove up to Mr. Shaw's, and together they rode to 
 Mr. Johnson's, and met Mrs. Johnson, when the following 
 conversation took place. 
 
 Mr. Shaw. " Sister Johnson, some of the sisters in 
 the church have complained of you for dancing. As it is 
 against the rules of the church, we have come to learn 
 about it, and hear what you have to say." 
 
 Mrs. Johnson. " Well, sir, I really do not remember of 
 dancing but once for years, and that was at an evening 
 party at Mrs. Lockwood's. I spent an evening there with 
 several friends, and, at the close of the evening, Jane 
 Lockwood (who, you know, is a fine performer on the 
 piano) was playing, and Mr. Lockwood invited the ladies 
 and gentlemen to dance, and, as he was himself a mem 
 ber of the church (and I think no one will for a moment 
 doubt his piety), I thought no ill of it, and danced a few 
 moments." 
 
 "Well, were you not aware that it was contrary to the 
 rules of the church ?" 
 
 "Xo, sir, I was not aware that the rules of the church 
 were so rigid as to prohibit a little innocent amusement 
 like that; but, of course, I would not myself approve of 
 ordinary dances ; and perhaps it was wrong even in that 
 case. But, sir, is there not something else the dear sis 
 ters are after than simply to call me to an account for so 
 trivial an ofl'ense? If all that has been told me is true, \v<> 
 have some busybodies in our church who, for the good of 
 the church, had better be out of it."
 
 152 AST A SI A. 
 
 " Well, if your dancing that evening has been the cause 
 of grief to others, or has led others into frivolities, was it 
 not then wrong? and, in such case, do you not regret 
 it?" 
 
 " Most certainly, sir, I do ; for I endeavor to live by 
 the rule of Paul, ' If meat cause my brother to offend, I 
 will eat no more while the world standeth, lest I cause my 
 brother to offend,' and if from participating in that, as I 
 supposed, innocent pleasure, I have grieved any Christian's 
 heart, or caused any one to stumble, I most heartily and 
 earnestly repent of it, and beg to be forgiven." 
 
 Deacon Jones. " Well, Sister Johnson, I am glad to 
 hear this ; but are you willing to go before the church 
 and make this confession ?" 
 
 Mr. Shaw. " Deacon, we must ourselves be cautious, 
 and not commit a greater error than Sister Johnson has. 
 She has made all needed confession, for we have already 
 answered the injunctions of the Scriptures and the rules 
 of the church." 
 
 Mrs. Johnson. " Will you be so kind as to inform me 
 who my complainants are, Mr. Shaw ?" 
 
 "No, sister; it will do you no good, and I shall see that 
 nothing further comes of it." 
 
 Thus ended the attempt on the part of three meddle 
 some, envious women to destroy the reputation and use 
 fulness of the most efficient lady in the church. 
 
 Having completed my visit, I returned home, and soon 
 after was taken sick, as previously stated. 
 
 During my sickness my dear father died ; but I was 
 permitted to know nothing-of it until my recovery. 
 
 About this time my husband was called South on busi 
 ness for his house, expecting, when he left, to be absent 
 about ten days. 
 
 After waiting the appointed time and no return, I
 
 A SPA SI A. 153 
 
 began to fear lest some evil had befallen him ; but I 
 hoped for the best. 
 
 Day after day I anxiously awaited his return, and my 
 nights were passed sleepless and alone ; and yet not alone, 
 for God was with me, and I felt that I had the sym 
 pathy of the great heart of Jesus. 
 
 Have any of my readers been placed under such cir 
 cumstances ? A dear friend away from home and past 
 his appointed time for return, and, after days and nights 
 of anxious and earnest watchings and waiting, yet no 
 tidings concerning him ? If so, you can appreciate my 
 feelings at this time. At such times it is unnatural for a 
 person to fancy the absent friend safe ; and although one's 
 thoughts are almost continually upon them, yet we do 
 not think of them as being detained by causes or circum 
 stances within their control. On the contrary, it is the 
 natural inclination of the mind to think of them as in 
 trouble ; fearful forebodings seize upon the mind at once, 
 and we fancy all sorts of evil have come upon them. 
 Hope seems to be driven out of the mind entirely, and if, 
 while thus held in suspense, hope again gains the ascend 
 ency, it is wholly because of the controlling power of the 
 will. Affections do not grow cold, far from it; on the 
 contrary, they become more ardent, for it is a law of one's 
 nature that to appreciate health we must have suffered 
 from disease ; to fully appreciate blessings we must have 
 passed through adversity. This law also holds good in 
 the physical system. To become strong and muscular, 
 we must not recline on beds of down, and spend our days 
 in idleness and inactivity; but we must labor and exer 
 cise, and the more earnestly we apply this regime, the 
 stronger and more muscular do we become. So with the 
 attributes of the mind. In order to a spontaneous exer 
 cise of the affections to the highest degree, it is necessary
 
 154 ASPASIA. 
 
 that the object of our love should be removed from us for 
 a time. As with love, so with the opposite. We never 
 know how to, and indeed we never do really, hate evil, 
 until we have learned to love the good ; and it is a mer 
 ciful provision of God's grace, that he has given us the 
 records of the sins and backslidings of his chosen people 
 of old, and of the terrible judgments which came upon 
 them at times in consequence, and also of the patience 
 and faith of the old worthies " as our ensamples ;" and, 
 knowing that human nature has not changed, we may 
 thereby be enabled to shun the rock on which they 
 drifted. 
 
 My husband's partner in business was also greatly 
 alarmed for his safety, by reason of his prolonged ab 
 sence, and telegraphed to places where he thought he 
 could reach him, but to no avail. 
 
 Oh, how I did plead with God for the safe return of 
 my dear husband, and the father of my dear children ! 
 and every morning and night I would talk with them of 
 the possibility of evil having happened to their father, 
 until their little hearts would almost break. I did not do 
 this to cause them unnecessary pain and anguish. But 
 first, because my soul was borne down with grief, and I 
 felt the absolute need of a responsive expression from 
 some other heart, and the more ardent, the greater is the 
 relief which comes to the afflicted; and this can be found 
 nowhere so strong as in the outbursts of the emotions of 
 the pure and tender heart of a child. And secondly, be 
 cause I wished to impress, upon their young and tender 
 hearts, truths and principles of vital importance to them ; 
 and under no circumstances could this be so effectually 
 accomplished as when in deep sorrow. And thirdly, 
 because such experience would bring all our hearts nearer 
 together, and, let what would happen to them in after-life,
 
 ASP ASIA. 155 
 
 they would never forget the impressions they received 
 at that time, and their love for me would be increased, and 
 mine for them proportionately strengthened, and should 
 their father return they would also love him the better 
 for it. 
 
 Thus I took my children before the altar of God 
 every morning and evening, and presented my petition 
 earnestly to Him who "tempers the wind to the shorn 
 lamb." 
 
 At length I received a letter from a gentleman in 
 Atlanta, Georgia, saying my husband had been very sick 
 at that place, and was still confined to his room from the 
 effects of an injury he received some three weeks pre 
 vious ; but he was now gaining, and would be able to 
 leave for home, he thought, within a week, and that he 
 wrote by my husband's request. 
 
 I at once wrote my dear husband of the agony of 
 mind I had endured on behalf of him, as also had our 
 precious children, and thus I was most thankful, yes, 
 indeed, perfectly enraptured with the thought that he 
 was safe, and that I should see him again. Within about- 
 one week we welcomed him home; but, alas, how 
 changed from what he was when he left! Then, hale 
 and hearty, now, pale and haggard. I nursed him as 
 none but a loving wife could, and he gradually improved 
 until he regained his usual health. For a time he was 
 affectionate and faithful; but it was not many months 
 before I noticed upon his coming in of evenings the 
 smell of ardent spirits about him, and, by degrees, ho 
 would spend his evenings away from homo. I became 
 -rratly alarmed at this, and prayed most earnestly for 
 him; and, as often as I thought prudent and safe, so as 
 not to irritate him, and thus lose my influence entirely 
 over him, I would beg of him to desist from those evil
 
 156 A SPA SI A. 
 
 practices, for my sake, for his dear children's sake, and 
 for his own happiness ; and he always promised me he 
 would, but as often violated his promises, until it really 
 seemed to me I could not endure the trial. And my 
 mind reverted to the time when my husband was re 
 peating his pledges to me, and urging me to marry him, 
 on the strength of these pledges, and the impressions I 
 then had, as I said to my father, "that I had feared Mr. 
 Goodspeed was not so good as he would have me be 
 lieve ;" and I was forced to utter the exclamation of one 
 of old, " For my sighing cometh before I eat, and my 
 roarings are poured out like the water. For the thing 
 which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which 
 I was afraid of is come unto me." 
 
 And could my children have been mercifully taken 
 away, I should have longed for death. 
 
 I learned from his partner that he so far neglected his 
 business as to frequent the saloons and gambling-hells, 
 and that unless he speedily reformed he should dissolve 
 partnership with him. I had previously begged of my 
 friends to lend their influence to aid me in recovering 
 my dear husband, and several had done so. I now ap 
 pealed to Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd for their aid once more ; 
 but Mr. Shepherd replied that he "knew all about him, 
 and he felt dreadfully about it, from the fact that he had 
 been the primary cause of my distress, by urging me first 
 to marry Mr. Goodspeed." I replied, " My dear sir, cast 
 no such reflections; marriages are made in heaven. And 
 although I am now called to pass through the deep 
 waters of distress, yet it is for a wise purpose; and in 
 heaven, at last, we shall understand it. There are many 
 such problems which we have no rule to solve ; we can 
 not understand them, their solution is left for the future." 
 And I begged of him to aid me once more in the attempt
 
 AS PAS I A. 157 
 
 to redeem my dear husband ; but he replied, "It will be 
 of no avail, he is lost." 
 
 These words fell like a death-knell upon my ear. 
 
 "No avail!" "He is lost!" I repeated to myself. Is he ? 
 Can it be that Jesus died for him in vain ? that my inter 
 cessions, entreaties, and prayers, are all in vain ? that 
 my love, and that of my dear children, is so freely poured 
 out for him in vain ? 
 
 No, no ! he will yet be reclaimed, and my heart shall 
 cling to him. 
 
 I then returned to my home, and to my room ; and oh, 
 the anguish of my soul, as I, all alone, thought upon our 
 former happy days, and of hopes that were now blasted 
 forever ! and I endeavored to devise some plan by which 
 I might win him back to temperance and sobriety, and 
 again share his affections. 
 
 But I could think of nothing which I had not already 
 tried. I still determined with myself that I would not 
 cease loving him, nor my care for him and my kindly 
 services toward him. 
 
 Time passed on. One after another of my friends for 
 sook me. I understood well the cause : my husband's 
 drunkenness had become so notorious that he had lost 
 the respect of our entire circle of friends. Some of my 
 lady friends urged me to sue for a divorce. I shuddered 
 at the very thought of it, and replied that by God's provi 
 dence I was mysteriously brought to marry Mr. Good- 
 speed, and had promised without any mental reservation 
 to love, honor, and respect him. True, he had also in 
 his marriage vow pledged his fidelity to me; but his sin 
 did not excuse me, no; I should still continue to love 
 him, and I felt sure that my efforts would yet be owned 
 and blessed of God, and my husband yet be brought to 
 see his sins in their enormity, arid turn and live. 
 
 14
 
 158 ASFASIA. 
 
 One of the reflections which caused me fearful fore 
 bodings, was that he might squander his property, and 
 myself and children be left poor and homeless. And I 
 took care, from the first, to see that my children were 
 haying the very best advantages for education, lest 
 poverty might come upon us, and they, in consequence, 
 be deprived of those blessings. 
 
 Many of my friends suggested that I apply to the 
 courts to be protected in the property ; but I would not 
 listen for one moment to such a proposition. I replied 
 that I would do nothing to bring my family into disre 
 spect; I would suffer from extreme poverty rather than 
 that my husband should be written imbecile on the public 
 records.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 As I sat in the library, mending my husband's gar 
 ments, a stranger called. He said he was Deputy United 
 States Marshal, and had business with my husband. I 
 replied that he would probably find him at his place of 
 business, No. Street. 
 
 "Place of business!" said he. "Is your husband a 
 man of business ?" 
 
 I replied that he was. 
 
 "Alas, my lady!" said he, "your husband has most 
 grossly deceived you. He has no business, and has had 
 none for a long time. He squandered his entire interest 
 in the house of Goodspeed & Hammond long since, and 
 the firm dissolved. He then borrowed money and mort 
 gaged this place for all it is worth, and also the furniture 
 in this house, and has, I am informed, spent it all in gam 
 bling, drinking, and other vices, and Mr. Hammond, Mr. 
 Shepherd, and other friends, have for a long time sup 
 ported you and your children, by sending you money and 
 supplies through Mr. Hammond. And now I have come 
 by order of the court to take possession of this house and 
 furniture under the mortgage, as the debt has been long 
 due." 
 
 " Oh, my God !" said I, " have mercy on me and my 
 children," and I fell fainting into my chair. 
 
 At the gentleman's call my servant-girl came, and bv 
 the application of restoratives I soon recovered ; upon 
 seeing the stranger, I relapsed into my former condition, 
 
 ( I-''.))
 
 160 AS PASTA. 
 
 and it was some moments before they could restore me. 
 Upon seeing me safe again, he remarked : 
 
 "You are too ill, madam, to talk with further to-day. 
 I will call at ten A.M. to-morrow." 
 
 As soon as he left, I cried, "Oh, my God, cut me off! 
 don't let me see the light of another sun I" 
 
 My maid was frightened, and said she, 
 
 "You're crazy, mum; I'll run for the doctor." 
 
 "No," said I, "I am not crazy, but I have sinned." 
 
 Bessie, my maid, helped me on to my bed, and gave me 
 a cup of strong tea, and I felt somewhat revived. 
 
 But oh, the anguish of my soul ! I repented of my sin, 
 and prayed for strength to endure the trials of a life of 
 poverty that was before me, that myself and children 
 might be preserved from all temptation. 
 
 For an instant, when realizing that a faithless husband 
 had brought such suffering upon his devoted family, I 
 felt hard toward him. But I soon rebuked myself, and 
 said, Yes, I will continue to live with him, and God will 
 bless me ! 
 
 Night came on, and my precious children gathered 
 about my bed. William had now grown to be a young 
 man, and my daughters quite large girls. They were 
 all well fitted for life (for children of their ages), except 
 that they were strangers to adversity. They earnestly 
 inquired the cause of my illness, and for a time I evaded 
 their queries; but at last said I, " My dear children, you 
 may as well know it now as to-morrow." 
 
 I then repeated the statement made by the marshal, 
 and the girls burst into a flood of tears. William turned 
 his face to the wall, and stood silent for a few moments, 
 until the girls had partially assuaged their grief. Then, 
 turning upon us his countenance all radiant with love 
 and an expression of manly dignity, said he,
 
 AS PAST A. 161 
 
 " My dear mother, and you, my dear sisters, let us all 
 put our trust in God. You, mother, have long since 
 taught us from the Bible, that Jesus will take care of 
 those who put their trust in him ; and though called to 
 pass through deep waters, yet the floods shall not over 
 flow them. Then let us trust in Him, and I will be your 
 stay and support." 
 
 Just at this time, my husband came reeling into the 
 house, and, not finding me in the library as usual, he 
 stumbled to my bed, and with an oath, said he, 
 
 " What are you in bed for this time of day? Get up, 
 and get me some tea." 
 
 I replied, " I was ill and could not." 
 
 With that he laid hold of me to take me out, and, as 
 quick as thought, William caught hold of him and hurled 
 him down upon the floor. The girls screamed; and I 
 cried, "My dear William, he is your father, you must not 
 treat him so ill." 
 
 William replied, " I don't care if he is my father, he 
 shall not abuse my mother." 
 
 William helped his father into the dining-room, where 
 the girls prepared him some tea. After tea he lay upon 
 the lounge, and, after dozing awhile, William related the 
 occurrences of the day, to which he seemed perfectly indif. 
 ferent. His moral sensibilities had become so benumbed 
 that he seemed but one remove from the brute. And yet 
 I could not find it in my heart to forsake him. 
 
 This was a night of sorrow, with no rest, my mind 
 being too greatly disturbed. I finally fell asleep and 
 dreamed that a man, with a haggard look, stood before 
 me, and screamed in my ear, " Ruined ! ruined ! ruined !" 
 I sprang up in bed, panting like a scared roe; but no one 
 was present, and all was still. I laid myself down again, 
 
 14*
 
 1G2 AS PAST A. 
 
 my temples were throbbing, neuralgia had seized upon 
 my nervous system, and I cried, " Lord, give to thy 
 chosen sleep 1" After tossing about for a time, I again 
 slumbered, but only to be terrified by dreams and visions 
 of poverty and deep distress ; and thus I suffered until 
 the morning light. 
 
 In the morning I sent William to call Mr. Shepherd. 
 He came, and I related all to him. He replied that he 
 was aware of it all, and both himself and his wife had 
 dreaded this fatal day, and that he had a small house of 
 four rooms just vacated by one of his tenants ; he would 
 that morning have it furnished, and I could take posses 
 sion of it at once, and occupy it free of rent or cost as long 
 as I chose. 
 
 I thanked him with all my heart. 
 
 "Well," said he, "how about that brute of a husband 
 of yours? You had better let me kick him out of the 
 house." 
 
 " Oh, sir!" said I, "don't call my dear husband a brute. 
 I feel sure he will yet be reclaimed." 
 
 "Well," said he, "I hope he may; but I should as 
 soon think of seeing a soul enter a wooden man, as to 
 see him a man again." 
 
 I then went to the kitchen to inform Bessie (the kitchen- 
 maid). Said I, " Bessie, we are ruined." 
 
 " Ruined, mum," said she; " an' sure, an' what have I 
 done to ruin ye?" 
 
 " Oh," said I, "you have not done it. You have been 
 a good, kind girl, and I shall always love you for the 
 good you have done for us. But my husband has been 
 unfortunate and lost all his property, and now this 
 house and furniture have gone to pay debts with, and 
 we are poor, not worth a dollar in the world, save our 
 clothing 1 ."
 
 ASP AS I A. 1C3 
 
 She looked with astonishment as I made the statement, 
 and exclaimed, " Ye are in a bad way, sure ; what can I 
 do for ye ?" 
 
 I replied that we were to go into a small house, belong 
 ing to Mr. Shepherd, in the alley leading off from 
 
 Street, and she could go with us and stay a day or two 
 to help us wash, and after that the girls and myself must 
 do all the work. 
 
 "An', sure," said she, "is that the house ye are going 
 to live in, the same that Johnny O'Neil left the day be 
 fore yisterday ? Bad luck to ye, an' sure an' I will go 
 wid ye to help the ladies. I will stay wid ye, God bless 
 ye, mum. I have lived wid ye these many years, and 
 niver a cross word have ye uttered in my prissince ; and 
 the young ladies and William have all been very kind to 
 me, and I'll not lave ye now ; no, indade, I won't. May 
 the Howly Virgin protect us, I can sleep on the floor, and 
 the young ladies will let me comb my hair before their 
 glass, and I'll stay by ye. Neither you nor the young 
 ladies are used to work, and yer hands '11 get sore." 
 
 " Bless your soul, Bessie," said I, " you are a good girl, 
 and God will reward you for your kindness. But how 
 shall I pay you? I have no money, and shall have to 
 live upon the charities of my friends until we can get 
 work of some sort." 
 
 " Well, mum," said she, " the ladies can all earn more 
 by teaching than you can by housework, and I will go 
 wid ye, and we will put in together, and I'll risk but we 
 can live. The gintry, ye know, won't come to that house, 
 so ye'll want no new clothes for some time." 
 
 Bessie's arguments wen- irresistible, and I consented to 
 Id her cast her lot with us. 
 
 And, in my reflections upon this conversation, and my 
 knowledge of Bessie's character, I could but think, and
 
 164 ASPASIA. 
 
 said to myself, "How ill able we are to judge of the real 
 character of an individual by the external appearance !" 
 
 Here was an ignorant, uncouth Irish girl, with a soul 
 full of holy emotions, and the instant that the chord of 
 sympathy within that soul was touched, it vibrated with 
 heavenly music, pure, disinterested benevolence, none of 
 the rubbish of selfishness there ; and I thank God for 
 just such a friend; and no language can express the feel 
 ing of joy which thrilled my heart as she made her sim 
 ple declaration ; and, relating the conversation directly 
 after to the children in the drawing-room, I remarked that 
 it was to me an indication of God's favor, and labora et 
 spera should still be my motto. I know we shall see 
 brighter days by-and-by, and your father will yet be re 
 claimed, and we saved from utter ruin and disgrace. 
 
 At precisely ten A.M. the marshal came. I had kept 
 my husband in, and, as the marshal read him the eject 
 ment papers, I thought I could observe a momentary ex 
 pression of alarm, but he soon relapsed into his usual 
 stupid condition. 
 
 I said to the marshal that a friend had provided us with 
 a house, and if he would be so kind as not to give us un 
 necessary trouble we should leave the house in a day or 
 two. To this he assented in a very gentlemanly manner, 
 and before nightfall the next day we were all snugly 
 packed away in Mr. Shepherd's little brown house in the 
 alley leading off Street. 
 
 "Alas for earthly joy, and hope, and love 
 Thus stricken down e'en in thy holiest hour." 
 
 How true it is that " The heart knoweth its own bit 
 terness." 
 
 When the heart of one is all broken down with sadness, 
 and it seems as though that soul was alone in the world,
 
 AS PAST A. 1G5 
 
 the mind becomes beclouded, and all is dark and dismal 
 with fearful forebodings ; then it is that we feel the need 
 of friends, sympathizing hearts. But even though our 
 friends may cluster around us at such times, and offer 
 words of consolation and love, yet their sympathies can 
 not reach down into the inner soul and grasp the painful 
 tumor which is gathering in the heart. 
 
 By this my readers will not understand me as under 
 valuing the outgushings of warm hearts, full of sym 
 pathy for the troubled and afflicted. A person who 
 undervalues such expressions of the holiest emotions of 
 the soul is a scandal to his species. 
 
 Immediately after moving into our humble home in the 
 alley, "William applied for and obtained a situation as 
 second clerk in the store of Mr. Hammond, my husband's 
 former partner, and was thus earning something for the 
 support of the family ; and Mr. Hammond also promised 
 him higher salary than he had paid for the same services, 
 and, so soon as the bargain was closed, William hastened, 
 full of joy, to inform us of his good fortune. As he came 
 into the house, his countenance was as radiant as a sun 
 beam, and said he, " Mother, never fear ; I can support 
 you and the girls. I have secured a situation in Mr. 
 Hammond's store, which I am resolved to fill to his entire 
 satisfaction, and I shall then be able to pay for all we 
 need." 
 
 About this time Mrs. Shepherd called to excuse her 
 self for not giving me a better house, but said they could 
 not get possession of one. 
 
 Said I, "My dear friend, you need make no excuse. 
 You and your husband have already done more for me 
 than I have any right to 1 expect, and I cannot find lan 
 guage to express my gratitude." 
 
 On leaving, she dropped a twenty-dollar bill in my
 
 166 ASP ASIA. 
 
 hand. My heart was so full that I could not acknowl 
 edge it, and, covering my face, I burst into tears. Bid 
 ding me good-by, she said, " I will see you again, dear, 
 in a day or two." 
 
 I reported the present to Bessie immediately after Mrs. 
 Shepherd left, for, as I have before stated, we had formed 
 a copartnership, and I was resolved to carry out the 
 agreement to the letter. 
 
 "Well," said Bessie, "I told ye, mum, that the good 
 Lord would take care of us ; but I don't think much of 
 that old brute of a man of yourn." 
 
 " Oh," said I, " Bessie, don't call him a brute. He is my 
 husband, and I am bound to treat him kindly, let him do 
 as he will ; and I feel sure he will yet reform." 
 
 " Reform !" said she. " No, indade ; not so long as he 
 can get a shilling to buy a mug of whisky wid. There 
 ought to be a law making a damage to any one selling 
 whisky to a drunkard." 
 
 "Yes," said I, "and there should be a law making it 
 an offense punishable by a heavy fine for a man to sell 
 ardent spirits to any one who fails to provide for his 
 family."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ONE day, while we were all engaged upon some work 
 we obtained of a merchant tailor, a wagon drove to the 
 door, having (as I observed from my window) a man 
 lying on some straw. The driver hallooed. I went to 
 the door, and said he, " Here, old woman, I've brought 
 home your old man ; and I guess it's about the last of 
 him, too." 
 
 Bessie heard him, and, rushing past me, with her 
 broom, she screamed out, " Ye dirty old spalpeen, bad 
 luck to ye ; may the Howly Virgin spit on ye, callin' my 
 good lady the old woman. Ye desarve to be pounded, 
 and ye does." 
 
 " Never mind, Bessie," said I ; " this is part of the trials 
 I am called to bear for some wise purpose." 
 
 " Well, sir," said I, " will you be so kind as to help my 
 husband into the house ?" 
 
 "Help," said he; " he is as dead as a door-nail, and will 
 have to be carried in." 
 
 We all sprang for the wagon, screaming. 
 
 " Oh," said he, "don't be scared; he's only dead drunk ; 
 the old fellow will come to life again, I reckon. He hasn't 
 all the whisky he wants yet." 
 
 We all assisted, and carried Mr. Goodspeed into the 
 house, and laid him upon the bed ; and Bessie went at 
 him with herb tea until she relieved him of the surplus 
 liquor. However, he lay stupid all that iii^ht, ami, 
 although we had lived in the little brown house in the 
 
 (167)
 
 168 ASP ASIA. 
 
 alley nearly a year, and been forsaken by nearly all my 
 former fashionable friends, yet I think there was never a 
 more painful conflict going on in my soul than during 
 that long and wearisome night. For apparently my 
 husband was dying, or at least rapidly approaching his 
 death; and a flash of pleasure at the thought would sud 
 denly come over me. And then I would plead God's 
 forgiveness of my great sin, and that he would spare my 
 husband's life, and convert him. Thus I agonized all 
 that long night. 
 
 On the morrow, he came out of the torpid state in 
 which he bad lain during the night, but was too feeble 
 to sit up. 
 
 While the girls and myself were sewing, Bessie did the 
 housework and nursing Mr. Goodspeed. And I over 
 heard the following conversation between them : 
 
 "Well, Bessie, aren't you sorry to see me sick in bed?" 
 
 " Good luck to ye, no, indacle, I ain't. I wish, by the 
 Howly Virgin, you were sick all the time. I'd rather take 
 care of a dozen sick men than one drunken man; and 1 
 reckon, old fellow, ye'll git no whisky to-day, sure." 
 
 " Oh, I must have some whisky, or I'll die." 
 
 " Well, then, ye'll die; and ye might as well be count 
 ing yer beads and saying yer prayers, for sure an' ye'll not 
 get a dhrop of whisky in this house." 
 
 " Call Mrs. Goodspeed. Tell her to send one of the 
 girls for some liquor." 
 
 "No, indade, I shan't. If there's any chance for ye 
 to die, may the Lord hasten it. I'd be glad to go for a 
 coffin, but never a bit of whisky. An' ain't you ashamed 
 o' yourself fur all the misery and suffering ye've brought 
 on the fine family? Ye desarve the everlasting curse of 
 the howly angels; an' ye'll get it too, if ye don't mind." 
 
 It was several weeks before my husband sufficiently
 
 AST A SI A. 169 
 
 recovered so as to be able to sit up. During this time I 
 had but little conversation with him. Several of his 
 rough, drinking companions, hearing of his illness, called, 
 but we would not let one of them into the house. 
 
 My object in not conversing with him was that he 
 might have time to reflect, and I kept him a large part of 
 the time like one in solitary confinement. I have heard 
 it said that there is no punishment so tormenting, so 
 terrible to endure, as to be shut up alone with nothing to 
 do but think! think! think! and my impression is that 
 Mr. Goodspeed experienced the pangs of a guilty con 
 science, for he would entreat me with tears in his eyes to 
 stay with him ; but not wishing to provoke him, and still 
 being determined to leave him alone with his conscience 
 and his God, I would excuse myself and get away from 
 him. Days and weeks passed, and even months, before 
 he so far recovered as to be able to go about the house. 
 
 In the mean time, by the aid and influence of Mrs. 
 Shepherd, my daughter Rose had obtained a class in 
 music, as she was an excellent performer on the piano, 
 and understood the science of music. William succeeded 
 admirably in the store; Bell and myself sewed evenings, 
 and I taught a private day-school of girls; and Bessie 
 did the housework and took care of my husband during 
 the daytime. 
 
 Soon after moving into the little brown house in tlie 
 alley, I found that on Sabbath days there wore many 
 children playing about, and I resolved that I would 
 cuter the missionary field at once. I didn't know but 
 the parents would point to my drunken husband, and say. 
 " Physician, heal thyself;" but I saw that (Jod had opened 
 a way for me to do good, and, for aught I knew, I had been 
 brought there for this very purpose. I at once mentioned 
 it to William and the "-iris, and they approved of it, and 
 
 15
 
 170 ASPASIA. 
 
 we resolved that we would open a Sabbath-school in our 
 house the next Sunday at two o'clock P.M., as we all 
 attended church in the morning. William said that he 
 would go to all the houses in the alley Sunday morn 
 ing and notify the people ; and we all became greatly in 
 terested in anticipation of glorious results from our 
 efforts. 
 
 My children obtained singing-books and Testaments 
 at their morning Sabbath-school for use in our school. 
 
 Sunday morning came, and said William, "You 
 know, mother, the Apostle Paul said he caught men with 
 guile, and I am going to try it." So, putting on his 
 oldest and worst-looking clothes, he went through the 
 alley, from door to door, inviting the people to our Sun 
 day-school that afternoon ; and the result was twenty-one 
 children and five adults the first Sabbath, and the school 
 continued to increase from Sabbath to Sabbath; and, 
 during niy husband's long sickness, he was compelled to 
 attend Sabbath-school every Sunday. Before we left the 
 alley, we obtained, by subscription, sufficient to lease for 
 a term of years a vacant lot next to our house, and erect 
 a house that would hold a hundred or more people, and 
 we had it full every Sunday; and I thank God that he 
 answered and blessed our labors to the conversion of 
 many. And on this very spot, and from that Sabbath- 
 school, has grown up the Eighth Ward Mission Church, 
 now the largest in the city. Thus I feel that the bless 
 ings with which God crowned our feeble efforts there, 
 fully compensated for all the suffering and misery we 
 were called to endure. And there it was, also, that my 
 dear husband first stood up before men and proclaimed 
 himself a Christian. It is a precious spot, hallowed 
 ground to us. 
 
 After he had so far recovered as to be about the house,
 
 ASPASIA. 171 
 
 I ventured to talk with him of the errors of his past life, 
 which he deeply lamented, and said he, " My dear wife, 
 I am not fit to live ; I have been so ungrateful, have sunk 
 so low in sin, and have brought my loving family into 
 such deep disgrace, caused you the loss of friends and 
 home, to dwell in a shanty in an alley. Oh, my God, 
 what a sinner I am ! And all this time, you, my dear, 
 dear wife, have been so loving and kind, and my children 
 so dutiful and respectful to a father who has brought 
 them into such wretchedness, that I have by my evil prac 
 tices and associations cultivated only the baser passions 
 of my nature, and yet God has not cut me off, as he 
 might, and as justice demanded. What shall I do ? Is 
 there any hope for me ? As I now contemplate the 
 awful experience from which I have had temporary re 
 lief, I long again for the hellish cup. Oh, how am I to 
 be saved from repeating my past experiences ! Is there 
 no escape? When I am able again to go out among 
 men, and from the restraints of my loving family, am I 
 again to yield to the tempter, and so go down to hell ? 
 Oh, God forbid !" 
 
 We all sobbed aloud, and were so filled with grief we 
 could not speak. After awhile, William broke the silence, 
 and said: 
 
 " My father, you have indeed been a great sinner; but 
 our dear mother has saved you from death and the do 
 minion of Satan, by her earnest prayers in your behalf. 
 Day and night she has earnestly presented your case to 
 Jesus, and begged his mercy for you, that justice might 
 not overtake you. And around our family altar, morn 
 ing and evening, we have all poured out the sincere de- 
 pires of our soul that the Holy Spirit would light up the 
 fcpnrk of truth which lay imbedded under the rubbish of 
 corruption in your soul. And thus that spark might be
 
 172 AS PAS I A. 
 
 kindled into a flame of never-dying love for Jesus. Then 
 we knew that Morgan Goodspeed would stand out a man 
 among men, and our family again be taken back to the 
 society of the respectable and virtuous." 
 
 I then spoke. Said I, " My dear husband, you have in 
 deed caused me and our children deep sorrow : the in 
 tensity of my suffering you can never realize or appreciate. 
 I do not feel at all inclined to chide you ; you have been 
 led away into temptations : I would not make you unhappy 
 by adverting to our experiences during the past three 
 years. And now, as God, in his infinite mercy, instead 
 of suddenly cutting you off in your sins, has brought you 
 low in sickness that you might have opportunity for re 
 flection, and prolonged your sickness, that you might 
 gain strength, morally, to resist temptation, I pray you 
 to lay hold of the promises of Jesus. For he says that 
 'none who come unto him shall be cast out.' He can 
 give you strength to resist the tempter, let him come to 
 you in whatever guise he may; and you can obtain that 
 strength from no other source. If you rely upon your 
 own strength, your own good pledges or resolves, with 
 out trusting in Jesus, you will surely sink deeper in 
 degradation and ruin than ever before. And now, for 
 Jesus' sake who died for you, died in your stead, suf 
 fered for your sins, that you might be saved from ever 
 lasting torments; for your wife's sake, who left her father 
 and friends to become yours, and did so upon the 
 strength of your solemn pledges to remain a faithful and 
 devoted husband so long as life should last; and for the 
 sake of your dear children, who must carry the name of 
 Goodspeed through life, and whose future condition in 
 society will depend much upon your resolve to-night, I 
 say, in view of all these motives, and in the name of God.
 
 ASP ASIA. 173 
 
 and humanity, I entreat you to now resolve to lead a 
 Christian's life from this moment !" 
 
 He then asked me to pray for him; we, for the first 
 time in our lives, knelt together, and I earnestly im 
 plored God's mercy to rest upon my dear husband ; 
 upon my concluding, he burst forth in an earnest prayer 
 and confession, and a consecration without reserve. 
 William followed him in a prayer of thanksgiving and 
 praise. Thus, by the mysterious operations of provi 
 dence, was God's altar erected in the family of Morgan 
 Goodspeed. 
 
 My dear husband continued to improve in health from 
 day to day ; as soon as he was able, he called on 
 some of his old drinking companions, and succeeded in 
 bringing them into my Sabbath-school; and, before we 
 left there, God gave us the satisfaction of knowing that 
 many of them were converted from the error of their 
 ways, and became useful members of society ; one young 
 lawyer, of fine talents and education, but who had led 
 a dissolute life, was so filled with love for Jesus, and 
 burning desire for the salvation of men, that he became 
 a self-constituted city missionary and preacher, and was 
 most successful in his labors. Our former friends, learn 
 ing of the conversion of my husband, and of his activity 
 and zeal in his efforts for good, again gathered about us, 
 and were solicitous to aid him in his efforts to again es 
 tablish himself in business. 
 
 By invitation of Mr. Hammond, Mr. Goodspeed entered 
 his store as salesman by commission instead of a salary, 
 well knowing that his abilities as a salesman were such 
 that he could make more money than by a salary ; he 
 found that he could sell more goods after he became a 
 Christum than ever before. 
 
 15*
 
 1M A SPA SI A. 
 
 When he had been with Mr. Hammond about six 
 months, the latter proposed to retire from active business, 
 and give it into the hands of rny husband and William, 
 by selling them an undivided half of the stock on credit, 
 charging them six per cent, on that capital, and dividing 
 the profits equally. This was done at once, and the old 
 sign of Goodspeed & Hammond, that for over three years 
 and a half had lain in the store loft, was pulled out of 
 the rubbish, cleaned up, and raised to its old place at 
 No. , Milk Street, Boston. 
 
 The business of the firm was prosperous ; the times 
 were propitious. Many of my husband's old customers, 
 who were so because of their especial friendship for him, 
 and who had left the house after his failure, now learning 
 of his reform, and that he had resumed business, came 
 back to the house to trade, and his business rapidly in 
 creased. 
 
 My husband was anxious to locate his family in a 
 more respectable house and neighborhood, but I de 
 clined until he and William should be able to purchase 
 a home. Our expenses were light, for I still continued 
 to teach, as did also Rose, and we were slow to go back 
 into society, preferring to be urged back, than to crowd 
 ourselves upon our friends who had forsaken us in our 
 adversity. 
 
 At the close of the first year the books of the firm 
 showed large profits to Mr. Goodspeed and William's ac 
 count, and one more year of equal prosperity would en 
 tirely wipe out their indebtedness, and place them one- 
 half owners of the immense stock, which result was 
 achieved. 
 
 One morning, as Mr. Goodspeed entered the counting- 
 room at the store, William called his attention to an ad 
 vertisement of a beautiful house and splendid furniture,
 
 ASF ASIA. 175 
 
 on Street, No. , for sale at auction, at ten A.M. 
 
 of that day. 
 
 Said my husband, " William, would you like to have 
 me purchase back my old home, the house in which my 
 precious children were born ?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said William ; " and if it is known that 
 you want it, it will go cheap ; and we can spare sufficient 
 to meet the cash payment. I wonder if it is the same 
 house and furniture that we left ?." 
 
 " Come with me," said his father, " and we will see." 
 
 They accordingly went to the house, and found it the 
 same, and, apparently just as we left it, furniture and all, 
 for that had been kept well covered. 
 
 William afterward informed me that his father was so 
 overcome, upon entering the house, that he sat down in 
 the same easy-chair he used to occupy so much, and wept 
 like a child. My husband attended the auction, and, so 
 soon as people learned that Morgan Goodspeed desired 
 to purchase his old home, they ceased bidding entirely, 
 and the house and furniture were sold, and immediate 
 possession given ; but the deed and bill of sale were both 
 made to Mrs. Aspasia Goodspeed. 
 
 On the morrow, after the purchase of the old mansion, 
 my husband remarked at the breakfast-table, that he had 
 
 the day before purchased a house on Street, in the 
 
 neighborhood of where we used to live, and directed us 
 to be ready to move into it by ten A.M., which we could 
 do, as we had no furniture to move, and he said he pur 
 chased furniture with the house. 
 
 At ten we were ready, and husband and William came 
 for us. 
 
 As we were passing along street after street, I re 
 marked it was the first carriage-ride I had enjoyed for 
 over four years.
 
 H6 ASP AS I A. 
 
 After reaching our old neighborhood, I watched the 
 horses eagerly to see where they were to stop. At last 
 we were driven to the gate of our old mansion, and 
 hastened into the house. We strolled through it more as 
 an explorer would through the chambers of the buried 
 cities of the Old World, than as people who had come 
 to dwell there. 
 
 Wonder and astonishment filled our minds. We were 
 amazed and confounded. The past seemed to me like a 
 dream. 
 
 I sank down upon a sofa in the parlor. My husband 
 sat beside me just as he used to formerly. Said I, " Morgan 
 Goodspeed, is this a dream ?" 
 
 "No," said he; "but it is another manifestation of 
 God's love ;" and, drawing some papers from his pocket, 
 and handing them to me, said, " My dear wife, I have 
 purchased this house and all this furniture in your name, 
 and now present you the title-papers. Whatever will again 
 occur, you will have a home." 
 
 Can any of my readers appreciate my feelings at this 
 announcement? If so, well, it relieves me ; for I could 
 not find language to express them. 
 
 Bessie stood by and heard it all; and, after waiting 
 for me to speak, and finding I did not, she wiped the 
 tears from her eyes, and said she, " Mr. Goodspeed, the 
 last time I saw ye in this house I wouldn't a given a 
 haight for ye; and it's only for the prayers and kindness 
 of my good lady that ye are alive at all at all. And ye 
 have dun a blessed thing to give the good lady the 
 house and furniture ; but couldn't ye do a little some 
 thing fur me, jist to remember me by, a calico dress, or 
 something, jist because we have all got back into this 
 house again, and I went with the ladies, and I staid 
 wid 'em, and sure and I'm glad I did?"
 
 ASPASIA. m 
 
 Said my husband, " Bessie, you have been a good girl ; 
 now you ought to get married and have a home." 
 
 "An' sure an' haven't I a home here, sir ?" said she. 
 
 " Yes," replied my husband, " but you should have one 
 of your own now. If you will marry Johnny Scates 
 (and you know he wants you to), I will purchase that 
 house we have just moved out of, and the furniture also, 
 and give them to you." 
 
 "Will ye?" said she; and her eyes sparkled like dia 
 monds. " Well, by the Howly Virgin, I'll do it this very 
 night, an' sure an' I will." 
 
 "Well done," said the girls; "go and hunt up your 
 fellow and bring him around here, and you shall be mar 
 ried in this parlor." At that she flew out of the house, as 
 a scared bird leaves its nest. 
 
 Presently, Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd, learning that we 
 had purchased and repossessed our old home, called to 
 congratulate us upon our prosperity. And Mr. Good- 
 speed related the conversation he had with Bessie, and 
 his proposition ; and Mr. Shepherd said he would make 
 out a deed for her, but would not take anything from us 
 for it, and that himself, wife, and daughters would be 
 down in the evening to attend the wedding. 
 
 Evening came, and with it Father Hagan, the priest, 
 Johnny Scates, and some half-dozen of his friends. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Shepherd and daughters, with all of our family, 
 were in our elegant parlors, that were most brilliantly 
 lighted. In the presence of these witnesses, Johnny 
 and Bessie stood up together and were made one. And 
 when the old priest pronounced them married, she gig 
 gled right out, and turning to Johnny, said she, " I'vo 
 got a house, I have." 
 
 " Hist, girl," said Johnny : " the praste ain't through." 
 
 As soon as the ceremony was performed, Mr. Good-
 
 1?8 A SPA SI A. 
 
 speed complimented Bessie in high terms, and enjoined 
 upon Johnny to be a faithful husband to her. He then 
 presented her the deed to the house, and a bill of the 
 furniture, and full receipt. And the company withdrew. 
 Thus ended our celebration of the reoccupancy of our 
 old home.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Thus drifting afar to the dim, vaulted caves 
 
 Where life and its ventures are laid, 
 The dreamers who gaze, while we battle the waves, 
 
 May see us in sunshine or shade. 
 Yet true to our course, though our shadow be dark, 
 
 We'll trim our broad sail as before, 
 And stand by the rudder that governs the bark, 
 
 Nor ask how we look from the shore." 
 
 MY readers, I am sure, will admit that my life, up to 
 this period, has been an eventful one. 
 
 At times I have basked in the sunshine of life, with 
 hosts of friends about me, in the enjoyment of all the vir 
 tuous pleasures, seemingly, which wealth could afford, and 
 with all the opportunities for self-culture through position 
 and the influence of the society of the refined and good. 
 
 At other times my frail bark has been tossed about on 
 the waves of adversity which seemed about to engulf me. 
 Loss of all earthly possessions, forsaken of friends, com 
 pelled to live in the society of the poor, degraded, and 
 outcast of the world, and yet, although drifting about upon 
 the billows of life, my humble bark kept right on her 
 way, true to the rudder. And when the storms were the 
 severest, I anchored the firmer to the rock Christ Jesus, 
 and was upheld until the storm had passed. 
 
 God, in his merciful providence, had vindicated my 
 faith, and that, too, in a most wonderful manner. 
 
 My husband was now a devoted Christian, and gave 
 
 (179)
 
 180 A SPA SI A. 
 
 evidence of his sincerity by works of love. He became 
 an active member in the church, and continued, during 
 the remainder of his life, to superintend the mission Sab 
 bath-school, in the alley, which I established, and where 
 he first performed public Christian duties, and God 
 crowned his efforts with success. 
 
 Years passed on, and my husband and William con 
 tinued prosperously in business ; at length they purchased 
 the interest of Mr. Hammond, and established the firm of 
 Goodspeed & Son. 
 
 About this time my daughter Rose married the Rev. 
 Mr. Scott, who was ordained a missionary to the Indies, 
 whither they went at once ; and I am pleased to know 
 that very many of the benighted heathens have, through 
 their instrumentality, been brought from Nature's dark 
 ness into the glorious light and liberty of the Gospel of 
 Christ. 
 
 The day of Rose's marriage was also the occasion of 
 William's wedding ; thus, as I gave one, Providence gave 
 me another, as if it were decreed that I should not again 
 be required to lessen the number of my sympathizing 
 friends. 
 
 My daughter Bell graduated at the Seminary, 
 
 and although Mr. Goodspeed possessed ample means for 
 us to live in affluence, Bell said she chose not to live a 
 passive or useless life, consequently accepted a situation 
 as first assistant teacher in the very same seminary from 
 which I graduated when a girl. 
 
 The seasons, in quick and rapid succession, succeeded 
 each other, and I felt that time was fast passing away. 
 
 It was evening ; my husband and myself were seated 
 in the library alone ; a fearful storm was raging without; 
 the slats in the shutters were flapping, to keep time to 
 the ^Eolian music of the winds, and all was dismal, dreary,
 
 ASPAS1A. 181 
 
 and dark ; but the angel of love presided at our quiet 
 fireside. 
 
 Removing his spectacles, and laying aside his evening 
 paper, he addressed me as follows : 
 
 " Well, wife, I really feel as though I was about through 
 with life, and very soon will have to bid adieu to earth, 
 and enter upon the realities of an unseen world." 
 
 " Why do you feel so ?" I inquired. " You are not ill, 
 are you ?" 
 
 "No, I am not; but when I realize how rapidly time 
 is passing away, the seasons coming and going with a 
 velocity increasing with my years, it is an evidence to me 
 that my work is about done, and, oh, such a work ! As I 
 look back upon my life, a large part of which has been 
 misspent, it causes me deep grief, and since, through 
 God's infinite mercy, I was taken from the depths of deg 
 radation, and my soul filled with heavenly desires, and 
 God's special providence manifested toward me, and my 
 precious family subsequently, I feel like exclaiming, 
 throughout all eternity, ' Grace ! grace ! all grace !' 
 
 " But in his economy God works through human in 
 strumentalities, and I firmly believe that he raised you up 
 on purpose for my conversion; for few, if any, would have 
 continued faithful before the mercy-seat as you have ; and, 
 in eternity, the next theme to that of a Saviour's dying 
 love for which I shall tune my harp of praise and songs 
 of everlasting joy, will be that God in his infinite mercy 
 chose you, my dear wife, a messenger of heavenly love, 
 and that by your faith, love, prayers, and good works, 
 you were instrumental in snatching me from the liorriMo 
 pit, and planting my feet upon the rock Christ Jesus." 
 
 For moments the deep emotions of my soul choked my 
 utterance; at length, gaining relief through my crying, I 
 replied : 
 
 16
 
 182 ASPASIA. 
 
 " The ways of God are mysterious. I am entitled to 
 no credit for having performed my duty toward you. I 
 had, all through our adversity and deep distress, abiding 
 faith in Christ's promises, and was determined to test 
 their validity by the constancy of my purpose ; and, as 
 by the exercise of our physical system the muscles all 
 gain vigor and strength, so it is with the attributes of 
 the mind ; hence the fruits of my faith were manifested in 
 kindly deeds toward you, calculated to soften the asperi 
 ties of your mind, and render you more likely to yield 
 your stubborn will to the influences of the Holy Spirit, 
 and thus, also, was my faith in God manifested by my 
 efforts for the good of others. I know full well that He 
 who had promised to ' feed the young ravens when they 
 cry,' would not turn a deaf ear to a confiding soul." 
 
 After our evening worship we retired for the night. 
 
 But a few weeks passed and my husband was taken 
 violently sick with fever. He had previously had such 
 attacks, and I hoped to throw it off. But, alas, it was 
 not so to be ! He continued to grow worse through the 
 night, and for days after he was quite low. 
 
 I felt impressed that this was to be his last sickness, 
 and the thought of his being taken, and I left, caused me 
 deep distress. 
 
 I went to my closet and shut the door ; and there alone 
 with my Saviour, where in former years I plead earnestly 
 for my erring husband, I now prayed that this cup of 
 affliction, if consistent with his will, might pass from me ; 
 otherwise, that I might be prepared to endure it. 
 
 At last the physician informed me that Mr. Goodspeed 
 could not recover, but that I must not alarm him by in 
 forming him of it. 
 
 "My dear sir," I replied, "he will not be alarmed at 
 all. lie is ready to die at any time ; but how can I en 
 dure it?"
 
 AS PAST A. 183 
 
 As I came to the bedside, he observed I had been 
 weeping. 
 
 " Oh," said he, "my dear wife, weep not for me. I am 
 only going home a little while just a little while be 
 fore you, that's all !" 
 
 Our pastor called frequently during his illness ; and at 
 one of his last visits he inquired of Mr. Goodspeed, " On 
 what grounds do you hope for salvation ?" 
 
 My husband replied, " Not by any works of righteous 
 ness that I have done, but by the sovereign mercy and 
 grace of God, through Jesus Christ my Saviour." 
 
 " But," said the pastor, " are you not to be credited in 
 God's book of records with the good you have done ?" 
 
 My husband replied, " Not at all ; I am to be credited 
 nothing in my account with God; it is all debit on my 
 side of the account. I have forfeited all right to a credit 
 with him, and he had determined to thrust me into the 
 prison of endless despair, as he knew full well I never 
 could repay the debt; for it was his inexorable law that 
 the debt must be paid, or the debtor be everlastingly 
 punished. Seeing this, the great heart of Christ was 
 moved with pity in my behalf, and he paid the debt for 
 me; hence the account has been transferred to Jesus, 
 and rny indebtedness is to him." 
 
 " Well, then, how do you expect to square your ac 
 count with Jesus ?" 
 
 " I do not expect to at all. I never can pay it, nor any 
 part of it. I am a bankrupt sinner; but I have not the 
 least fears in going into the august presence of Jesus; 
 for I know he will freely forgive the debt I owe, and 
 welcome me into his presence as though I had never 
 sinned. For he says, ' Come unto me, all ye who labor 
 and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.' I \v;is 
 heavy-laden with the burdens of sin, and by the influences
 
 184 ASPASIA. 
 
 of the Holy Spirit yielded myself to Jesus, and he rolled 
 the burden off from my soul at once, and I became dead 
 to sin. ' Now, if we be dead with Christ, we believe that 
 we shall also live with him.' ' Therefore, being justified 
 by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ.' What more do I need ? Jesus says, ' My blood 
 cleanseth from all sins,' and his ' Spirit witnesses with 
 my spirit, that I have been born again.' I feel my utter 
 unworthiness and helpless condition, and shall go into 
 the presence of my Saviour naked and poor; but I be 
 lieve to become rich in that heavenly inheritance pre 
 pared for me." 
 
 The pastor replied, "Brother Goodspeed, you need 
 none of my counsel or advice ; you are taught by one 
 higher than I. The Holy Spirit has indeed manifested 
 his presence to you, and clearly revealed himself and 
 your duty. And oh that I may be permitted to see my 
 last days with my faith as clear, and firmly centering on 
 Christ as is yours ! Have you any message for the 
 church ?" 
 
 " Yes," my husband replied ; " tell the brethren to ex 
 ercise stronger faith in Jesus, and to let their faith be 
 more ardent, to put away evil-speaking from among them, 
 and wicked surmisings ; remembering that if they speak 
 ill of a brother and wound his conscience, it is a wound 
 inflicted upon the great heart of Christ himself, and is a 
 fearful sin to be answered for. Tell them they must not 
 judge one another, for with what judgment they judge, 
 they too will be judged. They must remember that if 
 poor, sinning, weak mortals cannot forgive and overlook 
 each other's imperfections, how can we expect pardon 
 from the great God. I wish you would, endeavor to im 
 press more forcibly the truth, that a backbiter and an 
 evil-speaker is only revealing his own character; and,
 
 ASP AS I A. 185 
 
 knowing this, every Christian, when evil thoughts arise 
 in his mind, should at once rebuke the evil spirit which 
 prompts them, and at the same time cultivate and cherish 
 the opposite feeling. By this process of educating him 
 self, he will grow in grace, and be strengthened to resist 
 evil thoughts and desires, and overcome the evil propen 
 sities of his nature, and thus grow up into the full stature 
 of a perfect man in Christ Jesus." 
 
 On the morning of the day of my husband's death, I 
 observed a strange expression of countenance upon him, 
 with his eyes intently fixed upon the ceiling, and a ter 
 rible scowl upon his face. After awhile it would pass 
 off, and his face would wear a smile. Then again despair 
 seemed to seize hold of him. I felt sure a terrible con 
 flict was going on in his soul. It seemed like a violent 
 storm-cloud passing over the earth, when the forest is 
 beaten down in its path, and, after it has passed, the 
 sun shines out in all its loveliness and splendor. 
 
 After enduring the conflict a long time, he burst out 
 with the following, 
 
 " I stand on Zion's mount, 
 
 And view my starry crown ; 
 No power on earth my hope can shake, 
 Nor hell can thrust me down." 
 
 Before the sun had gone down in the western horizon, 
 my husband had entered upon the realities of an unseen 
 world, and I was left alone. 
 
 Thus was I brought to widowhood ; which, for a 
 Christian, is the nearest relation to God to which n 
 human being can be brought. For he says, " I will be 
 the widow's God." 
 
 \Vc-ks passed on: I felt lonely and sad ; yet happy in 
 the thought that my dear husband had gone to dwell 
 
 16*
 
 186 A SPA SI A. 
 
 where trouble can never come, but where he will bask in 
 the sunlight of Christ's love forever, and that I should 
 ere long be permitted to join him and strike the notes of 
 praise on our golden harps together. 
 
 I was left with a large property, and was thus enabled 
 to bestow my charities with a liberal hand. I employed 
 at my own cost never less than five, and as many as ten, 
 colporteurs, constantly distributing books and tracts, and 
 supplying the poor with food, and providing homes for 
 the outcast. 
 
 My daughter Bell had now married and moved West. 
 William continued the business at the old house. By this 
 time his eldest son had entered the store, and William 
 continued the business under the old sign of Goodspeed 
 & Son.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " EVERY family is a history within itself, and even a 
 poem, to those who know how to read its pages." 
 
 Philosophers have declared that intellectual recreation 
 is needful to the well-being and mental health of man. 
 
 Pindar said, " Rest and enjoyment are universal phy 
 sicians." 
 
 Aristotle says, " It is impossible for men to live in 
 continual labor : repose and games must succeed to cares 
 and watching." 
 
 Solomon inquires, " Who knoweth what is good for a 
 man in this life, all the days of his vain life which he 
 spendeth as a shadow ?" 
 
 Socrates said, " The highest degree of happiness was 
 attainable only by doing good to our fellow-men, by lead 
 ing our youth in paths of virtue, and thus we should pro 
 pitiate the gods and secure their approbation, and insure 
 ourselves immortal pleasures in the spirit-world." 
 
 The Assembly's Catechism says, " The chief end of 
 man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever." 
 
 Now, in my view, neither of the foregoing propositions 
 are wholly correct, though they all contain truth, which, 
 like all truth, is valuable. 
 
 In the first place, no antidote for a burdened heart or a 
 diseased mind can be of any real value, unless in its 
 effect it brings permanent relief; and as we are told by 
 the thoroughly scientific physician that certain medicines 
 
 (187)
 
 188 AS PAST A. 
 
 may be given to counteract the immediate effects of the 
 disease, but it will soon return again, and each time 
 with increasing power ; while other medicines may be 
 administered, the effects of which will be permanent, be 
 cause they are (as termed) constitutional : the entire sys 
 tem is thus renovated and health permanently restored. 
 
 Thus the mind of an individual may be overburdened 
 with the cares of life, or may be oppressed with respon 
 sibilities, or may become clouded and gloomy under the 
 trials of affliction or adversity, and temporary relief (and 
 only temporary) may be found in "intellectual recrea 
 tion," or, as Pindar says, "enjoyments," or, as Aristotle 
 says, in "games." 
 
 Yet, after all, from the fact that the same remedies 
 have to be so often repeated, they ultimately lose their 
 qualities of producing even temporary relief. 
 
 We therefore need a remedy that shall prove a specific 
 and bring permanent relief. 
 
 Socrates says, " Do good to our fellow-men, by lead 
 ing our youtn in paths of virtue, and thus propitiate the 
 gods." 
 
 The Presbyterian says, " Glorify God and enjoy him 
 forever." 
 
 Let us harness these two propositions together, and 
 we have a perfect antidote, for Jesus has told us plainly 
 that inasmuch as we have administered blessings to 
 others we have done it to him, and for one to sell all 
 that he had, and give to the poor, he would have treasure 
 in heaven. 
 
 It is written, " It is more blessed to give than to re 
 ceive." 
 
 This is an invariable law of our being. No man loves 
 to beg, none loves to be placed in circumstances where 
 he must be provided for by charity ; but, on the contrary,
 
 AS PAS I A. 189 
 
 there is a real pleasure in being able to bestow bounties 
 upon others. There is no exception to this rule ; it is 
 universal ; and even the miser unconsciously yields to 
 such emotions at times. This truth being established, 
 the proposition of Socrates is correct, and is in harmony 
 with the injunction of our Lord, "to love our neighbors 
 as ourselves." And by deeds of charity and love toward 
 our fellow-men, we glorify God, because we are fulfilling 
 his laws and elevating them above the world ; and they 
 are becoming better fitted for servants of Jesus, for spread 
 ing abroad the eternal truths of righteousness and true 
 holiness. 
 
 I do not like the last clause in the Assembly's propo 
 sition which I have quoted : it sounds too selfish ; but, 
 when coupled with those other truths as above, it works 
 in complete harmony ; for it is God's glory that man 
 should be redeemed and saved, and enjoy everlasting 
 pleasures beyond the grave. 
 
 There is still another aspect in which I will view this 
 subject, aside from the express command of God, " To do 
 unto others as we would have them do unto us." I pro 
 pose to show that these are obligations which grow out 
 of our very natures. And what was the primary cause 
 of the issuing of that divine command ? 
 
 In the record of the Creation, we find God " made man 
 of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils 
 the breath of life, and he became a living soul." 
 
 Further on in the record, we find that from the man 
 God took a woman. 
 
 We are told by our blessed Lord, " That in heaven 
 they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are as 
 the angels of God," clearly implying that there is no such 
 thing as sex in souls or spirits; and hence it is that all 
 through Scripture the commands of God are given to
 
 190 A SPA SI A. 
 
 men, never to women, and woes and judgments are pro 
 nounced against men always, against women never. 
 Now, this is not against the male in contradistinction 
 from the female ; but because God has created but one 
 man and one soul, and all other souls are the product of 
 that soul ; have grown out of it, sprang from it, born of 
 it, begotten by it, as have all bodies from that first phy 
 sical system. 
 
 Hence it was that Jesus must be begotten of the 
 Holy Spirit, or the inclinations of his soul would have 
 been evil. 
 
 And hence it is that we all partake of our first parents' 
 nature. 
 
 The woman was of the man ; nowhere does it say that 
 God breathed into her, and she became a living soul. And 
 why not? Because, as I have said, but one soul was 
 created, and the woman's soul was born of the man's 
 soul. We are told that the soul which God created was 
 in his likeness, and as the man's physical system was 
 duguerreotyped in the woman, so also did she partake 
 of the attributes of his soul. Therefore we have but one 
 first parent ; hence it was the curse fell upon the man. 
 
 11 And the Lord God said, Behold, the man is become 
 as one of us, to know good and evil. Now, lest he put 
 forth his hand and take also of the tree of life and eat and 
 live forever," etc. All this is spoken of the man, which 
 would have been an incongruity had there been two in 
 dependent created souls. 
 
 Now, then, reasoning from this stand-point, our souls 
 are all begotten, as are our bodies. It is an immutable 
 law of nature that like begets like, and every animal 
 generates its own species : so a father begets a son in his 
 own likeness, mentally, morally, and physically. He may 
 not be a perfect duplicate of his father, neither was Adam
 
 A SPA SI A. 191 
 
 of God, yet made in God's likeness : so the leading char 
 acteristics of the father's mind are portrayed in the life of 
 the son. And we expect the son to be like the father : if 
 the father has a burning thirst for strong drink, we expect 
 the son will be a drunkard ; if the father is a Sabbath- 
 breaker, we expect the son will lead a life of vice and 
 crime ; on the contrary, if the father cultivates all the 
 nobler and holier attributes of the soul, we look for a 
 still greater development of those heavenly graces JL the 
 child. 
 
 Therefore it is that our neighbor is our brother, as 
 souls, living, immortal, intelligent souls, all having 
 sprang from one, we necessarily partake, in a large de 
 gree, of the same properties of mind. 
 
 It should therefore be our highest aim, so far as this 
 life is concerned, to do all we possibly can to elevate our 
 fellow-men, to cultivate all their virtuous desires, to check 
 all baser passions, and thus fit them and ourselves for 
 usefulness in this life, and a glorious immortality in the 
 future. 
 
 I would have my readers learn from my experience 
 that an undying faith in God will carry them safely 
 through all troubles, trials, and afflictive dispensations of 
 providence ; and, although the clouds of adversity may 
 gather around you dark and thick, at times, yet if your 
 eye of faith is intently fixed on Jesus, you will ere long 
 see the bright beams of heavenly light shining through 
 the darkness. 
 
 As I review my past life, I am a wonder to myself, a 
 perfect enigma, and one that human reason cannot solve: 
 philosophy affords no satisfactory solution ; but Jesus 
 Dive's it nil by saying, "As my Father luith sent me 
 into the world, .-<> have I smt you into the world." 
 
 If it shall prove that I have been instrumental in
 
 192 A SPA SI A. 
 
 strengthening the weak faith of one, in leading an erring 
 one back to the paths of virtue ; 
 
 Of bringing comfort or consolation to the wounded 
 heart of an afflicted one ; 
 
 Of restoring lost hopes to one struggling in the deep 
 waters, and against the billows of adversity; 
 
 Of prompting the youth to noble deeds of love and 
 good works, 
 
 Then I shall not have labored in vain.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-32m-8, '57(0868084)444
 
 PS 
 
 1939 
 
 H?a