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"_March 27...._ I heard with dismay of the injury done to my Newport place by the breaking of Norman's dam. Was very much troubled about this."
_To Laura_
March 29, 1884.
MY DEAREST DARLING,--
Dunno why I hain't wrote you, 'cept that, while I was lame, the att.i.tude of reclining with my foot extended was very fatiguing to me. The injury was very slight. I only knocked my left foot pretty hard (_anglice_, stubbed my toe) hurrying upstairs, but the weak left knee gave way, and turned, letting me down, and feloniously puffing itself up, which Charity never does. It could not be concealed from Maud, and so Beach was sent for, and a fortnight of _stay still_ ordered and enforced. On Tuesday last I broke bounds and railed it to Buffalo, New York, with my crutches, which were no longer needed. This was for the mid-year Conference of our Congress. Before I say more under this head, let me tell you that I returned from Buffalo this morning, much the better for my trip. I had a lovely visit there, in a most friendly and comfortable house, with carriages at my disposition. A beautiful luncheon was given to us Congressers and I gave a lecture on Thursday evening, price $50, and sat in a high chair, thinking it not prudent to stand so long....
"_April 4._ In the latter part of the eighteenth century a Christian missionary, Chinese, but disguised as a Portuguese, penetrated into Corea, and was much aided in his work by the courageous piety of Columba Kang, wife of one of the lesser n.o.bles. She and the missionary suffered torture and death.... Merchants, not diplomatists, are the true apostles of civilization.
"Questions for A.A.W. [_i.e._, for the annual Conference of the a.s.sociation for the Advancement of Women]: How far does the business of this country fulfil the conditions of honest and honorable traffic?
"What is the ideal of a mercantile aristocracy?"
"_April 7._ General Armstrong called last evening. He spoke of the negroes as individually quick-witted and capable, but powerless in a.s.sociation and deficient in organizing power. This struck me as the natural consequence of their long subjection to despotic power. The exigencies of slavery quickened their individual perceptions, and sharpened their wits, but left them little opportunity for concerted action. Freedom allows men to learn how to cooperate widely and strongly for ends of mutual good. Despotism heightens personal consciousness through fear of danger, but itself fears nothing so much as a.s.sociation among men, which it first prohibits and in time renders impossible."
"_April 15._ A delightful Easter. I felt this day that, in my difficulties with the Anti-Suffragists, the general spread of Christian feeling gives me ground to stand upon. The charity of Christendom will not persist in calumniating the Suffragists, nor will its sense of justice long refuse to admit their claims."
"_April 17._ Sam Eliot was in a horse-car, and told me that Tom Appleton had died of pneumonia in New York. The last time I spoke with him was in one of these very cars. He asked me if I had been to the funeral, meaning that of Wendell Phillips. I was sure that he had been much impressed by it. I saw him once more, on Commonwealth Avenue on a bitter day. He walked feebly and was much bent. I did not stop to speak with him which I now regret. He was very friendly to me, yet the sight of me seemed to rouse some curious vein of combativeness in him. He had many precious qualities, and had high views of character, although he was sometimes unjust in his judgments of other people, particularly of the come-outer reformers."
"_April 19._ To get some flowers to take to T. G. A.'s house. Saw him lying placid in his coffin, robed in soft white cashmere, with his palette and brushes in his hands...."
_To Florence_
April 20, 1884.
... I went yesterday to poor Tom Appleton's funeral. It is very sad to lose him, and every one says that a great piece of the old Boston goes with him.... I dined with George William Curtis yesterday at Mrs. Harry Williams's. George William was one of Tom Appleton's pall-bearers,--so were Dr. Holmes and Mr. Winthrop....
Curtis's oration on Wendell Phillips was very fine.
"_April 20._ Thought sadly of errors and shortcomings. At church a penitential psalm helped me much, and the sermon more. I felt a.s.sured that, whatever may be my fate beyond this life, I should always seek, love, and rejoice in the good. Thus, even in h.e.l.l, one might share by sympathy the heavenly victory."
"_May 5._ I begin in great infirmity of spirit a week which brings many tasks. First, I must proceed in the matter of Norman's injury to my estate, either to a suit or a settlement by arbitration unless I can previously come to an understanding with N."
A heavy affliction was soon to drive all other thoughts from her mind.
On May 19, a telegram arrived from Italy saying, "Samuel Ward expired peacefully."
She writes: "Nothing could be more unexpected than this blow. Dear Bro'
Sam had long since been p.r.o.nounced out of danger.... Latterly we have heard of him as feeble, and have felt renewed anxiety, but were entirely unprepared for his death."
"_May 20._ Dark days of nothingness these, to-day and yesterday. Nothing to do but be patient and explore the past."
"_May 21._ Had a sitting all alone with dear Uncle Sam's picture this afternoon. I thought it might be the time of his funeral. I read the beautiful 90th Psalm and a number of his bright, sweet lyrics. A sympathetic visit from Winthrop Chanler."
"_May 27...._ Dear Brother Sam's death has brought me well in sight of the farther sh.o.r.e. May I be ready when it is my turn to cross."
_To her sister Louisa_
DEAREST SISTER,--
I was already in debt to you for one good letter when this later one arrived, giving me the full, desired particulars of our dear one's last days on earth. You and Annie both write as though the loss were heaviest to me, and I only feel that I cannot feel it half enough. The pathos of a life of such wonderful vicissitudes! I cannot half take it in. What must he not have suffered in those lonely days of wandering and privation, while I was comfortable in my household!... G.o.d knows, I had every reason to love him, for he was heroically faithful to his affection for me. Now, I feel how little I appreciated his devotion, and how many chimeras, in my foolish wool-gathering head, crowded upon this most precious affection, which was worthy of a much larger place in my thoughts. His death is a severe loss to Maud and me.... We were always hoping to rejoin him, and to pa.s.s some happy years with him. A great object is withdrawn from our two lives. Nothing can take his place to either of us.... As I write, the tears come. Like you, I long to sit and talk it all over with the two who are all I have left of my own generation. To our children, the event cannot be at all what it is to us. They are made for the future, and our day is not theirs. I was comforted, in your first letter, in reading of that pleasant, quiet talk you had with him, when, among other things, you read to him the lovely verses from St. John's Gospel, which have become a cla.s.sic of consolation among Christian people. I believe that he is in the heaven accorded to those who have loved their fellow-men, for who ever coined pure kindness into acts as he did? One of the lessons I learn from his life is that it is very hard for us to judge rightly the merits and demerits of others. Here was a man with many faults on the surface, and a heart of pure gold beneath.... The thought of his lonely funeral and solitary grave has wrung my heart at times, but sometimes I think of it as a place where one might be glad to be at rest.... But now, dear, I have had all the heart-break I can bear, writing this letter. Let me now speak of the living and tell you where and how we are.... I left very unwillingly to come down here, and try to get my poor wrecked place in order. You know, of course, that the dam which was built to cut off my water, and against which I obtained an injunction, burst this spring, and destroyed my two ponds, my carriage, and a good part of my barn. I have tried, in a lumbering way, to get justice, but have not yet succeeded. I have had, too, a great deal of trouble in my presidency of the Woman's Congress, this year. Almost as soon as I open my eyes in the morning, these black dogs of worry spring upon me. I long to be free from them....
"_June 28._ Senator Bayard to William A. Duncan about dear Bro' Sam: 'It is just one of those little kindnesses of which his life was so full.
There is no doubt, as you say, that his later years were his best! The wine of life fined itself.... He was readily sympathetic, and did in Rome as Romans did, and kept time and tune to a great variety of instruments. But the kind good heart _always beat truly_, and the array of good deeds to his credit in the great book of account is delightful to think of.'"
_To Laura_
NEWPORT, August 15, 1884.
Haven't I written to you? I have an idea of some long letter of mine not answered by you. But this may be one of those imaginary good actions which help to puff me up. Life, you see, gallops on to such a degree with me that I don't know much difference between what I have intended to do and what I have done....
I think novels is humbug. What you think? They don't leave you anything but a sort of bad taste....
"_August 27._ Simply good for nothing, but to amuse the little Hall children. A strange dead level of indifference. Do not see any difference between one thing and another. This, I should think, must come from a vagary of the liver. Worst sort of nervous prostration--to prostrate one's self before one's nerves. To town in the afternoon, when the dead indifference and la.s.situde went off somewhat."
"_August 29._ We dined at the Booths' to-day, meeting Mr. and Mrs.
Joseph Jefferson and William Warren. A rare and delightful occasion.
Jefferson talked much about art. He, Booth, and Warren all told little anecdotes of forgetfulness on the stage. Jefferson had told a love-story twice, Booth had twice given the advice to the players [in "Hamlet"], Warren, in 'Our American Cousin,' should have tried to light a match which would not light. He inadvertently turned the ignitable side, which took fire, and so disconcerted him that he forgot where he was in the play and had to ask some one what he had last said, which being told him enabled him to go on."
"_September 25._ Finished to-day my Congress paper. I have written this paper this week instead of going to the Unitarian Convention, which I wished much to attend.... I did not go because I thought I ought neither to leave home unnecessarily, to spend so much money, nor to put off the writing of the A.A.W. paper.
"I shall look a little to see whether circ.u.mstances hereafter will not show that it was best for me to follow this course. My Daemon did not say 'go,' but he sometimes plays me false. I have certainly had the most wonderful ease in writing this paper which, I thought, would occupy a number of weary days, and lo! it has all written itself, _currente calamo_."
"_October 5._ Is the law of progress one of harmony or of discord? Do the various kinds of progress, moral, intellectual, political, and economic or industrial, agree or disagree? Do they help or hinder each other?"
_To Laura_
NEWPORT, RHODE ISLAND, October 9, 1884.
MY DARLING LAURA,--
My poor wits, in these days, are like bits of sewing silk wound on a card. You unwind a little and straightway come to an end. The wonder is, there are so many ends. Here is a precise picture of our days as pa.s.sed at present. Morning, I wake early, lie and think over my past life, with little satisfaction. Bathe. Breakfast. Walk with Maud, Sonny[95] tugging alongside. Maud goes much further than I do. Sonny and I return, take a basket and gather dry twigs to brighten the evening fire. I visit my mare in her stable--a good custom, as my man is not over-careful of her stall. Maud comes back, I _exercise_ her voice. I go to books, she to desk. Study Greek a good deal, reading Thucydides and Aristophanes.
Dinner, coffee, more reading and writing, unless we go to town. Evening, music, reading or cards, worrying about ----, bed. I have not mentioned my own much writing, because you will understand it. I am trying to compa.s.s a story, but have my fears about it. My paper for the Woman's Congress is ent.i.tled "How to broaden the Views of Society Women."
Darling dear, what more can I tell you? Isn't this too much already?
Now, do s.p.u.n.k up and have some style about you.... Be cheerful and resolute, my love, life comes but once, and is soon over....