^^^ LETTERS, OF LIFE. II - ■- ■ I I "■ r^— ^ Tic: f'Ew ^•^^" • ^1 ^ ^. ^ ^N FOUL <' .»■ ■ . jyj i ■ 4» ti ^ K ' . ' lY. Mlaon. Uiken at the age of Seventy. New York , D Apple loa & C LETTEBS OF LIFE. BY MRS. L. H. SIGOUR^'EY. NEAV YORK : D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 443 & 445 BROADWAY. 1866. "^ ^.^>:m9Ga ErrzKiD, icoordlng to Act of Congresa, In the year 1 566, by D. APPLETON & CO., Ib Um Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern Dtetrict of New York. TO MRS. CAROLi:tTE WASHBUPwN, THE CHEEI8HED FEIEND, AT WHOSE EAEXEST SIIGGESTIOX THESE " LETTEES OF LIFE " "WEEB COMMEXCED, THE FINISHED WORK 18 DEDICATED, BY A FILIAL HAXD, IN MEMORY OF THE DEPAETED. CO COj^TEISTTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE Home and its Inhabitants, ..... 5 CHAPTER II. Early Years, ....... 26 CHAPTER III. My Teachers, ....... 49 CHAPTER IV. First Grief and First Journey, . . . .74 « CHAPTER V. Household Employments, . . . . .97 CHAPTER VI. Social Amusements, ...... 120 ooirrKNTf*. • • • • FAOl ruAriKu VII. AAiffTOCRACT or Tiir. Omtn Time, .... H4 CHAPTER VIII. Wbittkn Tiiouout, . . . , .164 CHAPTICR IX. Educational Rkmf.mokancks, ..... 186 CHAPTER X. Love and Marriage, ...... 239 CHAPTER XI. Domestic Lifk, .... ... 266 CHAPTER XII. Lapse of Years, . . . • . . 292 CHAPTER XIII. Literature, ....... 324 CHAPTER XIV. Good-bye, APPENDIX, 403 LETTERS OF LIFE. LETTER I. HOME AyrO ITS IXHABITA^TS. Tou request of me, my dear friend, a particular account of my own life. It is little varied by incident, and has no materials for romance. Yet your wish ought to be sacred to my much indebted heart; and I believe there is no earthly pilgrimage, if faithfully portrayed in its true lights and shadows, but might im- part some instruction to the future traveller, and set forth His praise, whose mercies are " new every morn- ing, and fresh every moment." I was born in Xorwich, Connecticut ; beautiful Nor- wich, whose varied scenery reveals sometimes the Cale- donian wildness, and at others the tender softness of the vale of Tempe. The earliest pictures of Memory, and they hang still unfaded in her gallery, are of rude ledges of towering rock, which were to me as the Alps, 6 LETTERS OF LIFE. and of the nibhing and j/icturesquc cascade of the Yan- tie, creating the same class of sensations that were, in after years, deepened to speechless awe at the thunder- hymn of polemn, stihlime Niagara. My t^till tarliiT recollections are of the mansion where, near flic close of the last century, on the first day of Septemher, 1791, I first saw the light, Tt was among the better class of New England houses at that time of day — spacious but not lofty, a broad hall inter- secting it in the middle, with suits of rooms on each side. Its court-vard was of the richest velvet turf; two spruce trees, in their livery of dark green, stood as sentinels at tlie gate, and alternate columns of the fragrant eglantine and the luxuriant white rose were trained from the basement to the eaves. Tt was en- vironed by three large gardens,, each of which en- chanted my childhood, and even now linger with me, as those of the Ilesperides. The southern one stretched out in view of the win- dows of the parlor, where we usually sat. There were the flowers, transposed in an old-fashioned parterre, or knot — a diamond-shaped bed in the centre — with its chief glory, a rich crimson peony, surrounded by others in angles and parallelograms, whose dark mould was sprinkled with every tint and perfume, in their season. There flourished the amaryllis family, white and orange- colored, the queenly damask-rose, the deep-red, the pale-cheeked, and the sweet briar; tulips in gorgeous HOilE AXD ITS rSTHABITAXTS. 7 and varied robes, the protean sweet-william, the as- piring larkspur, the proud crown imperial, the snow- drop, the narcissus, and the hyacinth, so prompt to waken at Spring's first call, side by side with the cheer- ful marigold, braving the frost-kiss ; pinks in profusion, and a host of personified flowers, peeped out of their tufted homes, like nested birds ; the beauty by night, the ragged lady, the mourning widow, and the mottled guinea hen. The dahlias had not then appeared with their countless varieties, but the asters instituted a secondary order of nobility ; coxcombs and soldiers in green rejoiced in their gay uniform ; the borders were enriched with shrubbery, tastefully disposed, at whose feet ran the happy blue-bell and the bright-eyed hearts- ease, intent with a few other lowly friends on turning every crevice to account, and making the waste places beautiful. A portion of ground was allotted to such herbs as were supposed to possess the latent power of repelling disease. There grew the tansy, and the peppermint, and the spearmint ; the wormwood and the rue, a spoonful of whose expressed juice, given either as tonic or vermifuge, was never forgotten by the mouth that received it ; the spikenard, and the lovage, and the ele- campane, the pungent pennyroyal, the bitter boneset, famed for subduing colds; the aromatic thyme that fought fevers, and the sapient sage, which seemed com- placently satisfied with its own excellences, or bearing 8 i.mrmaB of life. on itB rouplionrrl lip the classic question, "Cur moriatnr homo. ld f^' At whicli t ho boy secretly laughed. It wns rnstoinary, in those days of republican sim- plicity, for merchants' clerks, who were received into the househoM of tho mnstrr, to take part in a variety of services for the comfort of the family. Conformably to this custom, Benedict was sometimes despatched to a mill at the distance of about two miles, carrying, on tho horse that he rode, bags of Indian corn to be trans- muted into meal. There, while waiting, he amazed the miller with sundry fantastic tricks. Sometimes his affrighted eyes would descry the urchin clinging to a spoke of the great mill-wheel in its revolutions, now submerged and anon flying through the air for his amusement, heeding no remonstrance, and enjoying the terror of the honest man, who in his objurgations was wont to style him an " imj) of the Evil One." In this reckless daring and deficiency of moral sen- sibility, might be traced the elements of that character which afterwards, with equal hardihood, could lead his soldiers through perils in the wilderness, or aim a trai- tor's blow at the heart of his endangered country. My father had several books of elementary science in his possession, among which I particularly recollect a Dilworth's Grammar and an Arithmetic, which bore in multifarious j^laces the sobriquet of Benedict Ar- nold, scrawled heedlessly and often with blots through the middle of mathematical problems or examples of HOME A^'D ITS IXHAEITA^'TS. 16 syntax. Sometimes they T^ere accompanied with un- symmetrical and hideous drawings. Possibly the boys mio;ht have used the books in common, or rather in sue- cession, during their school culture. Yet it must have required some courage thus to deface books which the JSTew England mind was trained to revere, both from scarcity and a sense of their value ; and to persevere wilfully in such courses, in days when scholastic disci- pline was wont to make itself both felt and remem- bered. I can well recollect with what veneration and clean hands I was instructed to approach our few, half- sainted volumes, and with what horror I regarded any child whose book disclosed the guilt of a dog's ear or a missing leaf. My father, like his compeer, or, more properly, his predecessor, was also called to take part in the battles of his native land. He joined the first regiment that was raised in that portion of Connecticut, and marched with them to Boston, ere the Declaration of Indepen- dence had been promulgated. They passed their first night in the neighborhood of the lion-hearted Putnam, at Brooklyn, Conn., who had then but newly left his plough in the unfinished furrow, and rushed onward to stand by his country, till her struggle for existence should end in liberty and glory. I may not here command sjDace to particularize the events that connected my blessed father with the perils and victories of the Revolution. They took place long 16 LETTERS OF LIFE. before my birth ; Imt I liave heard tlioir recital, seated on his knee, and my heart now kindles at their memory as a trumpet-cry. One recital of those warlike gatherings made a strong impression on my infantine imairination, proba- bly because it was coupled with home scenery. In the autumn of 1781, the inhabitants of Norwich beheld their whole southern horizon wrapped in the strange, flickering redness of a distant flame. Thundering sounds were on the air, like the cannon's death-peal. There was a quick mustering of the men of war. Boys who had never seen service, besought their troubled mothers for leave to gird on the harness, and go where danger called. In hot haste, and wdth as much of military order as the occasion would admit, horse and foot sped on to the point of danger. No rail-train in those days rapidly conveyed tidings, no telegraph bore them on the lightning's wing ; but the fleetest leader of the cavalry, gaining a command- ing ascent, announced that New London, our neighbor city, was in flames. From van to rear passed the mournful sound, " New London is in flames ! " Indig- nation sat on every face. Their beautiful seaport ! The favorite and finest harbor of Connecticut ! Every individual thought of some acquaintance or friend left houseless, if, indeed, among the living. They hurried to meet the foe. The fourteen miles that divided Nor- wich from New London was achieved as on eagle's HOME AXD ITS INHABITANTS. 17 wings. But they came too late. Too late for defence ! Too late for vengeance ! Smoking ruins and homeless people were on every side. The helpless sick had been removed to fields and gardens, and sobbing children clung to their bewil- dered mothers. Those who had been nurtured in wealth knew not where to turn for bread. Their holy and beautiful temple, where they had worshipped God, was in ashes. And Benedict Arnold had done it. Re- turning from a predatory excursion on the shores of Virginia, he had made this visit to his native State. Here were old friends with whom he had held early intercourse. By them he was recognized, seated on his horse, and giving orders. He even ventured to take some refreshment in the house of a former acquaint- ance, but bade the flames enwrap the roof as he rose from the table. He expressed a wish that it were pos- sible to reach IN'orwich, that he might there burn at least the abode in which he was born. Instinct, how- ever, protected him from this exposure, doubtless assur- ing him that the beautiful region which gave him birth would feel it its duty to provide him a grave. But it was on the opposite side of the river that the most fearful carnage marked his career. There, Fort Griswold, Avhich had been taken by sudden siege, after such brave resistance that the traitor general was blamed by his adopted realm for the large loss of j officers and soldiers, became the scene of reckless de- 18 LKTTERS OF LIFE. vaatation. Anii«l ]»ileH of slain, destroyed by hnrhar- OU9 butcbcrv after tliey liad surrendered, soucrht dis- traded women and cluMren, rleansincr many dead and distorted faces from tlie corrugated blood ere they could discern a feature of the husband or the father, the brother or the son, over "vvhom they should mourn wliile life lasted. And Jjcnedict Arnold had done it. He was seen to point with his ^flittering sword, and say, " Soldiers, to your duty ! " Ah, stern duty of pitiless war! executed, as we trust, sometimes with compunction, otherwise man would be a fiend. Came there not, in future years, some lingering cry of these wndow^s and orphans into the heart of that bold, bad man, when, bowed with age, he felt in a foreign land the loneliness, neglect, and loathinc: which are wont to overtake the traitor ? "We cannot say. Fain would we hojoe that such re- morse was there as led to penitence and God's forgive- ness. Details like these were softened by my father, and not dwelt upon with the stern delight of a soldier. He was not a man of w^ar in his heart, though duty led him to defend his home and hearthstone, and the altars of his native land. He was of a singularly mild nature and unassuming manners. Perseverance in well-doing, re- gardless of applause or ambition, and a disciplined, ' trustful, most affectionate spirit, were among the ele- ments of his character. I never remember seeing him, HOME AND ITS INHABITANTS. 19 throughout his long life, excited with anger, or hearing him utter a hasty or unkind word. Patience, that true courage of virtue, was eminently his own ; and at the close of his pilgrimage he was styled, by one well qualified to judge, " the man without an enemy." After peace and liberty had been vouchsafed to his beloved country, and she had taken her seat among the nations, he married a lovely creature, to whom he had been long affianced. Lydia Howard was his earliest love, but the unsettled state of the land had been un- favorable to " marrying and giving in marriage." Her health, also, was delicate, and they waited, with the hope that it might be more confirmed ere she assumed the responsibilities of a housekeeper. But pulmonary disease in our Northern climate exacts, like the Mino- taur, its ten-ible tribute from the fair and young, defy- ing both the sword of Theseus and the clue of Ariadne. Not a year of life, after her nuptials, was meted out to this gentle being. Just before the thick fall of the rustling leaves, and while the forests were rich with the later tints of autumn, she went to the land that hath no decay, leaning calmly on the Redeemer whom she loved. The desolated husband passed several years of lonely mourning, and then garnered up his heart in a new trust. Sophia Wentworth was beautiful and attractive, fourteen years younger than himself, and of a family which, though limited in pecuniary resources. 20 LBTTBM OF LIFE. ptrotoliod its pedigree back llironph the royal and tory governors of New Hampshire, to the gifted Earl of Strafford, the liapless friend of Charles I. She pos- sessed intellect of no common order, rapid pcrceptionB, stronrr retentive powers, facility of seizing knowledge almost by intuition, and a command of language com- prising somewhat of histrionic force. Her mind, but little disciplined by education, sprang to its results without intermediate toil, and in its flights of fancy and originality of thought revealed the true impulses of genius. By this fair young mother I was received with a joy that remembered not the anguish which for three days and nights had threatened to terminate her life; and by my father, usually grave beyond his years, wdth an amazement of delight and gratitude. Their first gift to me was the name of the early-smitten consort, con- secrated by the baptismal water from the hand of the Rev. Dr. Joseph Strong, in the church of the old town, under the gray cliffs, ere the second week of my infant pilgrimage was comjoleted. Such was the custom of tliose days. Before the moon had filled her horn, which, perchance, hung its faintest crescent over the cradle, the new babe must be presented to the priest, in the great congregation. During the early periods of colonial existence it was thought ^^I'oper that the day of its birtb should be also that of its baptism. A venerable friend, whose advent was during the coldest fj\l HOME AXD ITS IXHABITAXTS. 21 part of a very severe winter, and who has recently died at the age of almost ninety, assured me that she was not spared by her parents, but borne out to the house of public worship a few hours after her first appearance, which chanced to be on Sunday. Her father being the minister, it was deemed that any abatement of the strictest requisition would be singularly improper ; but tempering the zeal of piety with the solicitude of love, she was enveloped in a white satin bag, elaborately tied around the tiny neck, and preserved as an heirloom in the family. This extreme primitive usage did not permit the mother the j^rivilege of dedicating, in person, her off- spring at the hallowed font. My father presented his own little waif to the good pastor for the blessed rite, accompanied by the nurse and a faithful servant woman. The latter, after the frost of fourscore had settled upon her, was fond of relating the scene, with its minutest circumstances, as one of some note in her annals. I, too, must speak of her ; for in her line of life she was an example worthy of comment and imitation. Faithful Lucy Calkins ! Methinks I see her now, in the costume of early days, a neat calico short wrapper, and in winter one of green baize, with shining black skirt and blue checked apron. There would she be, churning butter of golden hue, or drawing from a large brick oven the most delicate bread, or feeding her flock of poultry, or, perchance, lecturing the waiter-boy, who 22 LETTERS OF LIFE. miglit have neglrotod his cluty, slio Imving, cspocially OD the Inttcr occasion, not a melodious voice or a fasci- natinc ])liysiognomy. Most trntliful war she. I doubt whether she ever concealed a fact, and she was seldom iruilty f)f mollifying it. She had a strong temper but a kind heart. One of ray earliest recollections at enter- ing her kitchen, was earnestly looking in her face to see if she was pleasant. If she was, nothing could exceed my joy. If she was not — and children are great casu- ists in such matters — I usually made good my retreat, laying hands upon nothing. A remarkable person was she for persevenng dili- gence and consistency of conduct. Only at two ser- vice-places had she lived during a life which extended to more than fourscore, save the one where her child- hood was nurtured until she reached the age of eighteen. For more than forty years after the breaking up of the family at Norwich, she resided in the household of Daniel "Wads worth, Esq., at Hartford, first as an active housekeeper, then as a superintendent of other servants ; and lastly, seated quietly in the corner, and appealed to for the benefits of her experience, she rest- ed from her labors in peace and goodwill. Excellent gowTis she now wore, and nice caps ; nor would the delicate hand of the mistress neglect to arrange her apparel when she walked slowly to the house of God, wherein was her delight, or aid her into the family car- riage when she occasionally went to pass the day with HOME AND ITS IXHABITAXTS. 23 an early friend. Respect to her virtues was paid by those whom she had so long and so faithfully serv^ed. Great kindness of heart had she for sickness and sor- row; and to claims of charity, and especially those from her own poor relatives, her liberality was free and untiring. By prudence in preserving the surplus of her wages, she had secured an independence, and, after the death of the beloved benefactors under whose roof for almost half a century she had dwelt, returned to beautiful ^NTorwich, to be solaced by the nursing care of her kindred. There she was provided and attended like any lady of the land ; for she lived upon the income of her own money, and was a devisor by will and testament of legacy and donation. There I sometimes saw her, in great comfort, sleeping in a large apartment hung with pictures, and the small bed of a nursing relative near her own, lest she might want aid in the night. When I saw her for the last time, shortly before her death, she was on the verge of her eighty-fifth year. I had heard that she mourned after me, and wondered why I so neglected to call, thinking, in her brokenness of mind, that I was still a neighbor. TVhen I told her that I had come by the railroad forty miles since din- ner, and ere tea-time should return home, making eighty miles in all on purpose to see her, she seemed bewil- dered. Intellectual memory slumbered, but the mem- ory of the heart was wakeful. 24 LnrSRB OF LIFE. " It is her voice,'' she said ; " yes, her voice — the baby that I held when she was christened." Then T touched Pome of the chords of early days, and they vibrated truly and lovingly. Sunlic^ht came again over tlint wintry face. The Book of God was dear to her, and the Saviour who had led her with his flock many years beside the still waters. I knew that I should see her no more in this life, for the mark of the Better Land was upon her. That I remember her still with tenderness, is but a fitting trib- ute to one who, in honesty of purpose and consistent goodness, was a model for that class of persons on whose aid the comfort of domestic life so essentially depends. Often, when, like my sister housekeepers of this section of our Union, I have been annoyed by the habits of those whom we call helps^ and who are some- times hindrances — annoyed by their want of principle, their pretending to understand what they never knew, their leaving suddenly after having been laboriously instructed, or staying when confidence had ceased, my thoughts have recurred to the efiiciency, the integrity of this relic of the olden time, in whom the hearts of those whom she served safely trusted. Humble, venerable friend, farewell. " Faithful over a few things," we believe that thou hast entered " into the joy of thy Lord." LETTER n. EARLY TEAES. As I look back to the opening vista of life, a sense of quiet happiness steals over me. It is like the reflec- tion of that softest beam which a vernal morninor wins from the sun while he yet lingers in his bed, when the mists catch a rose-tint as they steal away, and the dews and unopened buds praise the Lord. I have been told that my infancy was healthful, though apparently delicate, and that I was in haste to take hold of the faculty of speech. TVords of my utterinsT when nine and ten months old were oft re- peated to me ; and though I suppose them to have been simply imitated articulations, the friends who re- corded them in memory were tenacious of them as proofs of rapidly-unfolding perception and precocious intellect. I was favorably situated to be accounted marvellous, having no little competitor, and falling principally into the company of those somewhat ad-- / vanced in life, who welcomed me as a curiosity, and had full leisure to note all my doings. My father was 26 I.ETTKBS OF LIFE. ajiproaeliiii!^ tlio crr.ivo aijc of forty wlion lie welcomed Lis only child. One of my first recollections is of hiding my face in liis hosoni, and of how hright were the knittincj-needlcs of his acred mother, Avho sat near with a lovincr smile, I was very happy in the gardens, when old enough to wander there. No nurse at my heels watched and restrained me, or wondered what I was about when I talked long with the flowers. My fair mother tied on my little sun-honnet and mittens, and welcomed and lulled me to rest when I came wearied into the house. I remember with what wondering reverence I gazed at the tall purple lilacs and white snowballs ; my own most familiar acquaintance among the flower-people being the violets and blue-bells and lupines in my allot- ted plat of ground. Great delight had I also in watch- ing the growth of the ripening fruits, and admiring His goodness who deepened the color in the orb of the berry and the downy cheek of the peach, and changed hard, green pin-heads into the full, fragrant grape cluster. Frequent visits I made to the arbor, covered by the mantling vine, and, spreading on its benches large leaves of the lilac which I was permitted to gather, drew on them, with a pin, the forms of such objects as met my view or floated in my fancy. Those green surfaces, deeply indented by my simple graver with birds, or nests, or winged creatures having neither name nor symmetry, or exhibiting patterns for wrought EAELT YEARS. 27 ruffles such as I had seen ladies embroider, are as vivid in memory as if laid on the table where I now write. Sibylline leaves, on which the httle happy heart dej^ict- ed the semblance of its own imaginings, they unfold their scrolls to me, bringing back the perfume of the abundant fruits and rich blossoms that breathed around. I had but few j^laythiugs, and those of the simplest kind. More were not coveted, having no companion with whom to enjoy or divide them. In those early days of the republic our merchant vessels did not swell their freight with the toys of Germany and France. Dolls that opened their eyes, moved their joints, and moaned, were unknown, and might have been deemed the work of necromancy. I never possessed any save those of household manufacture, and they were not eminently distinguished by fine proportions or elegant costume. My best one had a face of cambric, black pin-heads for eyes, half-circles drawn with a pen for eyebrows, lips of a slip of vermilion silk, curled flax for tresses, and handless arms pinned submissively over her stomach. The doll-srenus were not at all essential to my happiness. They were of the most consequence when, marshalled in the character of pupils, I installed myself as their teacher. Then I talked much and long to them, reproving their faults, stimulating them to excellence, and enforcing a variety of moral obliga- tions. 28 LETTERS or i,it't:. Tlic ))la}liouso, to wliich I resorted Avlien satiated with ruiMl rinuMes, or when hud weather forbade it, was a spacious garret covering the wliolc upper story of tlie mansion. In one corner w'as a heavy, old-fash- ioned carved beaufet, upon whose curving shelves I displayed my toys so as to make tlie best appearance, and arranged my dolls according to their degrees of aristocracy. A spirit of order, and love of having every thing in its place, grew W'ith this exercise. Immense trunks were in that garret. Untold treas- ures I supposed them to contain ; but rummaging was in those days forbidden to children. One of them was open and empty, and lined with sheets of printed hymns. I stretched myself within its walls, and perused those hymns, being able to read at three years old. Afterwards, I grieve to say that I made use of that hiding-place for a more questionable purpose. Finding a borrowed copy of the " Mysteries of Udol- pho " in the house, and perceiving that it was seques- trated from childish hands, I watched for intervals when it might be abstracted unobserved, and, taking refuge in my trunk, like the cynic in his tub, revelled among the tragic scenes of Mrs. Ratcliffe ; finding, however, no terror so formidable as an aj)proaching footstep, when, hiding the volume, I leaped lightly from my cavernous study) It was the first surreptitious satisfac- tion, and not partaken without remorse. Yet the fas- EARLY YEARS. 29 cinatious of that fearful fiction-book seemed to me too strong to be resisted. Two immense stacks of chimneys passed through this garret to their outlet in the roof, where was also a scuttle-door attained by a flight of stairs, whither I mounted and j^eered out when ambition so moved. In one of those chimneys was a closet, where the ropes and pulleys of the great roasting-jack hissed and sput- tered when put in motion by the fires below. I remem- ber, on one occasion, opening the door of that dark enclosure, and saying to a little girl who had come up stairs with me that " Jack lived there." At the sound of the clamor within, her eves enlaro-ed, and, fleet as a deer, she fled from the house. My shouts of explana- tion were unheeded. The joke lost me a playmate for that day. On reflection, it seemed a wicked invention, at which my conscience was troubled. This capacious apartment also contained remnants and vestiges of my father's military life. Much time did I spend among these. The stories that I liad heard of battles while seated on the paternal knee, gave life and voice to every relic. Pouches of shot, and bullets, and flints, and the large twisted powder-horns, were in- tensely interesting to me. I did not feel inclined, like Desdemona, to " weep at what a soldier sufiers," but forthwith girded myself with the bright brass-hilted sword, and put my tiny hands upon the cumbrous pistols, and toiled in vain 30 T.mTERS OF LIFE. to lift tlio l(niE:-l)arr('llr(l ami exceedingly heavy gun, talking with each ahont liunkcr Hill, and Yorktown, an«l Washington, till I half fancied that I had listened to the war-thunder of battle, and looked upon the god- like form of the Pater Patria?. The domestic animals I considered friends. With their different lineaments of character I acquainted my- self, and, being early accustomed t^ see them well fed and kindly cared for, have never been able through life to lay aside an earnest desire for quadruped welfare, and an almost morbid distress at their discomfort or oppression. A large black horse, of mild temperament, two noble cows, in dark red coats, with graceful horns, a flock of poultry, crowing, brooding, or peeping, all in different deo-rees awakened interest and reorard. But my chief intimacy was with the feline race. Pussy was always so pliant, so companionable, so pleased with attentions, and prompt in her way to reciprocate them. I studied cat-nature like a philosopher. I be- lieved that the w^orld had never done justice to its capacities, and that a fostering tenderness would elicit new powers ; whereuj^on I made a cat my favorite and prime minister. It sat in my laj), and gambolled by my side, and stretched itself upon my bed, and was to me as a sister. I took charge of its diet, that it might be fed at stated ^ times, and with fitting aliment. When the maid had EAELY YEAES. 31 done milking, I was permitted to fill a cup for my protegee with my own hand, from the creamy udder. Large and fat grew my cat-people, with a lustrous vel- vet fur, and I exulted in their suj)eriority. They gave heed to my words, for I talked much to them, and at my bidding rose upon their hind legs, taking my be- neficent hand gently in their paws, and rubbing their heads lovingly upon it. I took pride in this and a few other accomplishments, arguing fervently in favor of the race, if any denounced it as selfish, fawning, or hypo- critical. One of my great pleasures, at the close of a sum- mer's day, was to amass two piles of fresh green cab- bage leaves, which I was myself permitted to break in the garden, and lay at the milking places for the two cows when they should come home from the pasture. I rejoiced to see them hastening toward their expected honne-boiLche^ and munching it with a perfect content, while their fragrant revenue rapidly filled the pails. On one or two occasions I was permitted to walk to their pasture, at the distance of half a mile or more, with our very respectable servant-boy, who went to in- vite them home for the night. Then and there I first beheld the maocnificent lobelia cardinalis. TVanderino- to a secluded, moist spot of earth, I found it in the full / blossom of its queenly beauty. I had never heard men- tion of such a flower. The thrill of rapture with Avhich I gazed upon it is felt to this day. I had no rest till I 32 LETTKIIS OF LIFE. possessed myself of llie treasure. That it was the wrong season for transplanting, was nothing to me. I had no botanieal knowledge, but the glorious flower was to me as a living soul. The next year there came up in its place a sorry tuft of grass. Not disjoined from utility were the pleasures of waking life. Sports and reveries were much confined to my great, paradisaical garret, and the sound of rain upon its ample roof imparted a perfect sense of security and bliss. Every falling drop seemed to strike a sweet wind-harp, moving the whole soul to melody. But when in the parlor with older people, I was fain to imi- tate their employments, and encouraged to do so. I early plied the needle, and at the age of six was am- bitious to execute the plainer j^arts upon my father's shirts, which were made by my gentle-hearted grand- mother. More than this, the fabric itself was in part the work of her industrious hands, for she loved to draw forth and twist the fine silken threads of flax ; and the quiet sound of her wheel was to my young ear a lulling melody. In those days the cheap manufactures from the southern cotton-plant by the aid of machinery, were unknown, and almost every thrifty family in the smaller towns of New England spun within its own bounds the more durable linens that were essential to its com- fort. I think it was the same serene and kind relative who taught me to ply the knitting-needles. Of this I am not absolutely certain, scarcely being able to remem- EAELY YEARS. 33 ber the time when I did not know their use ; and as a friend of mine, who very early entered the state of matrimony, replied to some chronological question, " She came into the world married^'' sol cannot affirm, from any positive recollection, that I did not come into it knitting. The employment has always been pleasant to me, as more friendly to meditation than the needle, and requiring less abstract attention. Through life I have found it economical and agreeable to knit stock- ings for myself, my family, and friends. To produce twenty pair annually, after I became a housekeej)er, and had more feet to cover, was no uncommon circum- stance, for it agreeably employed those fragments of time which might otherwise have been lost, and was likewise a form of charity peculiarly acceptable to the poor, in our cold and variable climate. Asking to be forgiven for this episode in favor of an almost obsolete occupation among ladies, I return to my happy childhood. Nothing was so entirely fasci- nating as to be permitted to aid my father in the horti- cultural pursuits which he so practically understood. Believing it for my health to be much in the open air, and loving ever to have me by his side, I was encour- aged to drop the peas in their long-drawn furrows, and \ de2:)0sit the golden maize in its hillock-bed. So, the fair i blossoms of one, and the tasselled sheath of the other, , were watched by me through all their stages, as devel- ) opments in which I had a right to be interested. I was S4 LETTERS OF LIFE. called to liold \hv younpj saplincj steadily, while he transplanted it, and wlieii it became a tree it was my friend. T understood not why such sweet sensations flowed from these simple employments. I had never learned Avhy horticulture seemed to cause fresh blos- soms to spring up in the heart's new soil. I knew not that health and cheerfulness walked with it, hand in hand. lie knew, who made it the occupation of un- fallcn man in his Eden innocence. lie knew, who so mysteriously conjoined the welfare of flesh and spirit, and placed the being that bore His own image in a " garden, to dress and to keep it." The bounds of our own home domain to my child- ish mind seemed spacious, and suflicient for every satis- faction. I cannot recollect ever passing its outer gates without liberty, or having a wish to do so. To roam at will from garden to garden, to run at full speed through the alleys, to recline W'lien w^earied in some shaded recess, or to seat myself with a book, on a mow of hay in the large, lofty barn, w^here the quiet cows ruminated over their fragrant food, gave variety and fulness of delight to the liberal periods allotted for out- of-door rambling. I shall probably earn the contempt of bolder spirits, when I say that ambition never moved me to trariQScend these limits, or to thirst after other joys. Not unfrequently I shared pleasant drives in our domestic equipage, a spacious, low English chaise, EARLY YEARS. 35 drawn by a clumsy black horse, whose mild temper and obesity were never disturbed by sound of whip, or am- bition of precedence. Xo desire of prancinj^, and no want of worldly comfort, ruffled his declining days. To me his proportions seemed elephantine, and being once elevated to his back, in the arms of a woman ser- vant, think I_ still remember impressions of terror at the dizzy height and the length of his head, which, to my infantine eyes, seemed enormous. By aid of this majestic personage I became in some measure familiar with the sweetly varied scenery in the vicinity ; and though too young to appreciate the full force of its at- tractions, yet came there forth from its beauty a silent, secret influence, moulding the heart to happiness, and love of the beneficent Creator. The diet allotted to children in those days was ju- dicious, and remarkably simple. Well fermented and thoroughly baked bread of the mingled Indian and rye meal, and rich, creamy milk, were among its j^rominent elements. I never tasted any bread so sweet as those large loaves, made in capacious iron basins. Light wheaten biscuits, delicious gold-colored butter, always made in the family, custards, puddings, delicate pastry, succulent vegetables and fruits, gave sufficient variety of condiment to the repasts allotted us. The extreme regularity and early hours for meals — twelve being al- ways the time for dinner — obviated in a great measure / the necessity of intermediates, and saved that perpetual 36 LETTERS OF LIFE. eating into wliich some littlr ones fall, until the diges- tive jn)\vci*s arc ini])air(Ml in their incipient action. If Fpnrt, or rxrrriso in llic garden, led mo to desire re- freshment between the regular meals, a piece of brown l)read was given me without butter, and I was content. Candies and confectionery were strangers to us primi- tive people. The stomach, that keystone of this mys- terious frame, not being unduly stimulated, no morbid tastes were formed, and no undue admixture of saccha- rine or oleaginous matter caused effciTescence and dis- ease. The name of dyspepsia, with its offspring, stretching out like the line of Banquo, I never heard in early years. Spices were untasted, unless it might be a little nutmeg in the sauce of our nice puddings, which I still counted as a foe, because it " bit my tongue." When seated at the table I was never asked whether I liked or disliked aught that appeared there. It never occurred to me whether I did or not. I never doubted but what I should be fed " with food convenient for me." I was helped to w^hat was deemed proper, and there was never any necessity, like poor Oliver Twist, to ask for more. It did not appear to me, from aught that I saw or heard, that the pleasure of eating was one of the main ends of existence. The advantages arising from early unpampered aj)petites, have remained with me ; for in various sicknesses to vrhich I have been sub- jected, the stomach, and the nervous tissues dependent upon it, have seldom sympathized, and the integrity of EAKLT YEAES. 37 the digestive organs usually given a substratum on which to build the recovered action of the system. Would that parents, in modern times, would more frequently consent to confer similar gifts upon their children. My costume was simple, and unconstrained by any ligature to impede free circulation. Stays, corsets, or frames of whalebone, I never wore. Frocks low in the neck, and with short sleeves, were used both winter and summer. Houses had neither furnaces nor grates for coal, and churches had no means of being warmed, yet I cannot recollect suffering inconvenience from cold. Thick shoes and stockings were deemed essential, and great care was taken that I should never go with wet feet. Clear, abundant Avood fires, sparkled in every chimney, and I was always directed, in cold seasons, to sit with my feet near them until thoroughly warmed, before retiring; for the nigjht. A dress of white muslin, with a broad sash of pink or blue, was my highest style of decoration. There was no added ornament, save thickly clustering curls, lot the gift of nature, but the production of my moth- er's untiring care and skill. This adornment, with scrupulous neatness, was all that she desired for her larling. The care of my teeth she reserved to herself, md made it no sinecure. Their pearly whiteness seemed sometimes to excite her vanity, and it was a proportionably keen disappointment to her that the second set should make their appearance of rather too 38 LETTERS OF LIFE. large a size, and palpably uneven. My daily ablutions, as well as the stated and more thorough weekly bath- ings, she personally superintended. With equal grati- tude I may respond to the filial ascription of Cowper : " The fragrant waters on my cheeks bestow'd With her own hand, till fresh they shone, and glow'd." From the age of three I was put to sleep in a cham- ber by myself. There was no person in the family to whom it was convenient or fitting to be either my guard or comj^anion. I was always attended to my pillow by maternal love, and then left alone, sometimes ere the last rays of the summer sun had entirely forsaken the landscape. I felt no fear ; false stories had never been told to frighten me ; there was nothing to be afraid of. " Our Father in Heaven," to whom the last words of clos- ing day were said, seemed near, and I fell asleep as on His protecting arm. It might have been in some meas- ure owing to this nightly solitude, that Thought so early became my friend. In the intervals not given to sleep it talked with me. So delightful were its visits, that waited for and wooed it, and was displeased if slumber invaded or superseded the communion. For it some times brought me harmonies, and thrilled me to strangt delight with rhythmical words. I believe the following'| was among its first gifts. Memory has from the earliest childhood kept it in her casket : EAKLT TEAKS. 39 " Oh king of kings ! who dwell'st among Angelic heralds, hear my song. Inexplicable are Thy ways, Eternal ought to be Thy praise." A new nightly visitant came with Thought, and sat in judgment on my couplets. It was Criticism. She measured the lines, and put them to her ear, like a pitch-j^ipe ; and with regard to this specimen, suggested that in the second line " tono^ue " would make a more accurate rhyme to " among," than the word I had chosen. I examined her decision, but adhered to my original selection. Whereupon Criticism arose and departed, and I went to sleep. The echo of consenting and euphonious words al- lured me to these little exercises in composition more than any poetic impulse or original idea. Attention to style, and the import of classical words, were advanced habitudes of mind for such infantine years. They prin- cipally arose from the character of the authors with whom I became familiar. There were literally no chil- dren's books attainable by me ; and as reading became, almost in babyhood, a necessity of existence, I was thrown upon a rather severe selection of standard au- thors. Young, with his sententious " IS'ight Thoughts," initiated me into the poetry of my native language ; Addison's " Spectator," and Goldsmith's " Yicar of Wakefield," were the most amusing volumes in the li- brary. Yet so much had I been inured to the measured 40 LETTERS OF LIFE. (li;^iiity, and even Rolcmnity of literature, that not com- prelieiiding concealer! wil, or delicate irony, I thouj^lit Sir Roger de Coverly and the Rev. ]\Ir. Primrose rather silly and sinij)le personages. That acute political satire, " Chrysal, or the Adventures of a Guinea," I perused with some interest, but little edification, from ignorance of the local history of England at the period of which it treats. Harvey's " Reflections among the Tombs," and Gesner's " Death of Abel," supplied the imagina- tion with pleasant food. Whatever was plaintive I considered eloquent, and graduated my admiration of literature by its power to draw tears. Bishop Sher- lock's " Six Sermons on Death," were my models for theolo2:ical writins^, thouojh " South and Seed " were diligently perused. The largest volume in my father's possession was a heavy folio of more than eight hun- dred pages, containing the works of the Rev. Matthew Henry, Discourses, Essays, Tracts, and Biographies. I believe it was the size of the book alone, that inspii'ed my ambition to master its contents. Yet in patiently bending over those pages, instinct with piety and bap- tized by prayer, methought a secret influence sometimes stole over me, moving to lowliness and the love of God. The sanctity of the Sabbath, as I saw it observed by those whom I most loved and respected, had an efficienc and salutary power upon the forming character. Thero was under our roof no young or light-minded person to tempt me to " think my own thoughts, or speak raj^ EAELT YEAKS. 41 own words," on that consecrated day. "Remember, and keep it holy," was the sound in my heart, at its earliest dawn. How quiet was every thing around in that rural home, and what serene sobriety sat on every face ! I often rode to our temple of worship, over- shadowed by steep, dark cliffs, which to my solemnized eyes were as Sinai, whence the law was given. Within these hallowed walls every thing seemed most sacred. Words could not express the reverence with which I listened to the deep, and rather monoto- nously intoned voice of the pastor. Of those who oc- casionally exchanged with him I took great note, by way of comparison and contrast. Some of them, me- thought, exhibited the mild graces of the sage who drank the hemlock, and in others I traced the linea- ments of the lamenting and reproving prophet, when he exclaimed, "The crown is fallen from our head — woe unto us ! for we have sinned." The closing home-exercise of Sunday was the repe- tition of the whole of the " Assembly of Divines' Cate- chism." It was my father's province to ask me the questions, to which I replied scrupulously in the words of the book, adding the scriptural proofs. From such an elaborate body of divinity it could scarcely be ex- pected that much gain would accrue to the understand- ing, at so immature a period. Some advantage might be derived by memory, which being strong did not particularly need it, or some weight added to the habit 42 LETTERS OF LIFE. of implicit obedience, which was the soul of our nur- ture in those primitive times. As I recited standing, a sensation of weariness occasionally stole over my limbs, so that I always felt relief at the interrogation, " What is effectual calling ? " which I fancied was somewhere near the middle, or at least a kind of vantage-ground, from whence, as from Pisgah, the close of the pilgrim- age might be contemplated, as "those fields of lign-aloes which the Lord had planted." I have heard, some ex- cellent old people say, that the foundation of their re- ligion was the same long catechism, and that when dis- ease induced wakefulness, a silent repetition of it to themselves was a decided comfort. I confess my ina- bility to lay claim to either of these results ; and hav- ing never been so fortunate as to derive from it either improvement in piety or consolation in pain, have ab- stained from requiring it of any who have come under my care for education. Truly happy was my childhood, fed on dews of love, yet guarded from the evils of indulgence by habits of industry, order, and obedience, which my parents wisely inculcated. Their wishes I never gainsaid; indeed, the idea of having any will opposed to theirs, or separate from it, never entered my imagination. Perfect content, and acquiescence with my lot, were the earliest gifts of life. Yet the cream of all my happi- ness was a loving intercourse with venerable age. I have already mentioned that under the pleasantl \ . i EAELY TEAES. 43 roof of Madam Lathrop we existed as a separate household, yet more closely entwined by the inter- course of every passing year. Having lost in one week, and ere the age of thirty, her thi-ee beautiful and promising boys, whose places were never supplied, the yearning tenderness of a heart which had continued to flow out toward the children of others, concentrated itself on the little one born in her house. No cast of character could be predicated that would more sain briously and permanently have influenced the unfolding mind and heart. Dignified in person, Avith the com- manding yet courteous manner of the old school, her powerful intellect was strengthened by familiarity with the best authors, and association with the most distin- guished men of the country. Fulness of benevolence, and a pervading piety, melted the pride of position andc wealth, and made her the loving disciple of the Saviour, in whom she early believed. To my eye she was the model of perfect beauty, for I beheld her throus^h a heart that was all her own. It made no difierence that almost fourscore years had passed over her ere I saw the light : " For yet no boasted grace or symmetry I Of form or feature — not the bloom of youth Or blaze of beauty, ever could awake Within my soul such joy, as when I gaz'd On that lov'd eye. Nor could the boasted pomp Of eloquence that seizes on the brain 44 LEITEIIS OP LIFE. Of young enthusiasm, emulate the theme So meekly flowing from those aged lips, To point the way to heaven." * In her spacious 2^3,rlor, seated in licr cushioned chair, by the side of a brightly blazing wood fire, she might often be seen, her knitting bag hanging near, and a book 02:>en before her, the spectacles, perchance, thrown back upon her noble brow, for a pause of thought. Her sole companion might be a slender child, with an unusually fair complexion, climbing by the aid of a high, straight-backed chair, to the upper alcove of an old-fashioned dark mahogany bookcase, to discover if haply some stray volume had eluded previous explorations. " Lydia, come here." Whereupon the tiny personage descends with un- common velocity, and ensconces herself in a tiny green arm-chair, at her feet, ready for any wish that should be expressed. " Read me these two pages of Young's ' JSTight Thoughts,' my dear, and be sure to pronounce every word slowly and distinctly." Let no child think this was a hardship. To please one so respected and beloved, or to win her smile of approbation, was sufficient happiness. Sometimes the call would be, not to read aloud, but to sing. Her * Moral Pieces in Verse and Prose. EARLT YEARS. 45 voice, which was in conversation an echo of the soul's harmony, was powerful in music, which she had been taught scientifically when a child. Many were the pieces in which I was instructed to accompany her, sacred, patriotic, or pathetic. Sometimes she would ' onor me by enumerating quite a catalogue, and al- lowing me to choose. " My child, shall it be ' Pompey's Ghost to his ^ife Cornelia,' or ' While Shepherds watched their Flocks by Night,' or ' The poor, distracted Lady,' or ' In- dulgent Parents, dear,' or ' Solitude ? ' " The last- named one was often my selection ; the sweet tune and the flowing words of the lyric are still fresh in memory, though never heard save from her sacred lips: " What voice is this I hear From yonder grove, That charms my listening ear, And wakes my love ? Sure 'tis some heavenly guest Inviting me to rest On my Redeemer's breast, Sent from above." Did space allow I would gladly copy the whole, which I have never seen in print. And as I in- scribe these few words, there comes with them such a gush of happiness, such a thrill of melody, as though an angel hovered near. May it not be so ? 46 LETTERS OF LIFE. I feci ber love within my heart, It nerves rae strong and high, As cheers the wanderer on the deep, The pole-star in the sky ; And if my weary spirit quails, Or friendship's warmth grows cold. Her blessed arm is round me thrown, As in the days of old. That low-browed apartment, with all its appoint- ments, is before me, an indelible picture. I see its highly polished wainscot, crimson moreen curtains, the large brass andirons, with their silvery bright- ness, the clean hearth, on which not even the white ashes of the consuming hickory were suffered to rest, the rich, dark shade of the furniture, unpolluted by dust, and the closet whose open door revealed its wealth of silver, cans, tankards, and flagons, the massy plate of an ancient family. Once or twice my infant eyes had enjoyed brief glimpses of that parlor, lighted by two stately can- dlesticks, and an antique candelabra, and methought it was as the hall of Aladdin. But to be extant in the evening, was a condition of being not con- templated for childhood, and with one long gaze I was gathered to my darkened chamber, possiV.y with some inner echo of the moan of our first mother : " And must I leave thee, Paradise ? " ■^\ i I \ EAELT TEAES. 47 Yet if there ever was any such repining, it was too transient to have marked the slightest trace on memory. "What particularly riveted my attention in that fair parlor was an ancient clock, whose tall, ebony case, was covered with gilded figures, of strikingly varied and fanciful character. These, like the storied tiles on the mantelpiece in the drawing-room, con- tinually exercised my wonder and admiration. There I gazed with folded hands, to touch being forbidden, regarding the mystic movements of the pendulum seen through its orb of glass, and counting the " ticJc^ tick^'' until, perchance, the stroke of its ex- ceedingly clear musical bell caused a startled delight. But the lov'd friend who sate Near in her elbow-chair, Teaching with patient care Life's young beginner, on that dial-plate To count the winged minutes, fleet and fair, And mark each hour with deeds of love, Lo ! she hath broke her league with time, and found the rest above. The rich benefits derived from friendship between ii^ant inexperience and saintly wisdom, are incal- culable. The tutelary influences of holy age upon the forming mind, can be fully computed only by those who stand with folded wings before the throne. / / 48 LETTERS OF LIFE. To her, wlio there worships among an innumerable company redeemed from the earth, I would humbly say in better words than my own : " If some faint love of goodness glow in me, Pure spirit ! I first caught that flame from thee." LETTER in. MY TEACHERS. In the dramatis personce of every young life, dear friend, the teachers are wont to have prominence. My first one ! Methiuks she is now entering the room. I start, for I was always afraid of her. ISTot that she was severe to me ; she could get no chance to be so. A timid little thing of four years, always obedient and diligent, offered no facilities for her ferule. Above the usual height was she, with sharp, black eyes, large hands, a manly voice, a capacious mouth, and a step that made the echoes of the quiet schoolroom tremble. She Avore an immense black silk calash, and when I saw it bobbing up and down by our garden wall, as she passed, I hid myself, like the malcontents of Eden, among the trees. Especially was I affrighted at dis- covering that she was once coming, by invitation, to take tea at our table. I did not enter the parlor until I was called, and then curled down in a corner with a small book, which, whether it were Robinson Crusoe or Qrumbdumbo, I could not readily have told. Gladly ' 3 50 i,i:tter8 of life. would I have been excused from the repast, for I dared not cat before her. But, peering out from under my drooping eyelids, I ascertained that she made the same use of her large mouth that others did, appropriating good things in goodly quantities, and ^Yith correct appreciation of their different ratios of relish and rarity. What I learned of an intellectual nature under her sway, it might be difficult, through the long vista of years, to decipher. My chief enjoyment was in the spelling-class, where we " went above," according to our own skill and the mistakes of others. Having very early learned to read by myself, the forms of words, and their syllabic construction, dwelt in memory like the minutiae of a picture, so that the usual amount of study made me fearlessly perfect in the daily ortho- graj^liical lesson. Hence, the mounting by detachments to the head of a regiment of some threescore and ten personages was no unfrequent occurrence. Some were four times my own age, and of formidable altitude and prowess ; but the victory was more quietly accorded to a meek-looking lilliputian, than to one better qualified for a rival in other matters. The position being held but one night, the chieftain going to the bottom of the class and rising again, pacified the discomfited, while at the same time it nourished an unslumbering ambition! in the bosom of the aspirant. My next teacher was of the masculine genus. Why, at so tender an age, my parents should commit me thuf MY TEACHERS. 51 to the miscellaneous association of large district schools, it might be difficult to say, save that it was the custom of the times. The idea of heing given in charge to a man, filled me with uncontrollable awe. On the first morning of my entrance, I could have taken the shoes from my feet, as if the place where he stood Avere a modern Sinai, where the law might be given amid thunderings, and lightnings, and temj^est. Yet, on the contrary, I was far more at ease than under the domin- ion of his predecessor. To my amazement, I found myself rather a favorite with him, and kindly appre- ciated by the scholars. Some of these were large boys, on the borders of manhood, who attended school in winter, and at other seasons pursued various useful occupations. One of their prime accomplishments was covering large sheets of paper with fine chirography of different sizes, they having been previously ruled and ornamented with devices in bright red, blue, and green ink. I thought them intensely elegant, and, as I now remember them, they had somewhat the effect of the old illuminated missals. My aid in devising their deco- ration, and selecting the poetry that formed a great portion of their contents, was sought and valued, so that I suddenly became a personage of consequence. Instead of being made a scapegoat or a burnt-offering, as I had anticipated, I was vastly comforted at this terrific " man's school," and not a little built up in my Y>wn estimation. Though my highest pleasures were 52 T,ETTERS OF LIFE. Still at homo, in the "calm school of silent solitude," I here learned that it was possible to make myself acceptable out of my own family — a fact which, from constitutional diflidcnce, I had been accustomed to doubt. My next educational movement was to attend a school for needlework. Our instructress was mild and ladylike, though distant and reserved. In this truly feminine department we strove to excel in nicety of performance, and our working materials were required to be kept in perfect order. Here it would seem that content and happiness must surely reign. But who can tell, by looking on a fair surface, what may smoulder beneath ? The vines on the bosom of Vesuvius were scarcely more agitated by the lava-stream at their roots, than we tiny politicians by what we termed the partiality of the mistress for one of our compeers, her own niece. She always walked with her on her way to and from school, sat by her side, and received atten- tions and caresses which we coveted. We fancied she was made independent of the rules, and shielded when she deserved rebuke. Forthwith the fiercest proceeded to hate her, and the most Socratic ones to treasure up little instances of injustice as themes for private talk. I have often marvelled that I, who had heretofore been an upholder of the most despotic authority on the part of teachers, in the days when the Busby code pre- vailed, should have been carried away by this current , MY TEACHEES. 53 when the power arrogated was simply an expression of preference. But the sense of injustice in the young mind is keen, and, when once roused, magnifies trifles and inadvertencies into wrongs. The next teacher was one of more pretension — an English lady, who came, with her family, to reside in our immediate vicinity, and received both day scholars and boarders. She instructed in what were termed the higher branches, including music, painting, and em- broidery. She executed on the piano with great skill, and, as I had been a singer from infancy, I found much pleasure in the practice of uniting an instrument with the voice. Having become an enthusiast about our aborigines, the first tune that I Avas permitted to choose for my own performance was that sweetly plain- tive melody of the " Indian Chief's Death-Song," be- ginning, " The sun sets at night, and the stars shun the day, But glory remains while their lights fade away." I was never tired of singing and playing this mournful harmony, and curtailed my scientific practice to enjoy it. But my chief delight was to paint and draw in water colors — an accomplishment in which the instruc- tress excelled. In my own little sanctum I liad sketched at pleasure from the earliest years, with a pin and lilac leaf, with a slate-pencil and fragment of slate, ere I ^vas the owner of a lead-pencil, or could obtain backs 54 LETTERS OF LIFE. of letters — ])en and ink being forbidden, lest my gar- ments should be defded. As I grew older, the illustra- tions in my TTieroglyphic "Bible were copied, and any grajiliic scene that I read, or heard narrated, produced one or more designs. As what I called my 2^^ctures multiplied, the desire to see them in colors became eager and engrossing. After various experiments, I succeeded in manufactnrinj]: certain substitutes and pigments wherewith to adorn the groups and regions of my fancy. A piece of gamboge was in my posses- sion, which, with a fragment of indiijo beGi:2:cd from the washerwoman, furnished different shades of yellow, blue, and green ; while a solution of coffee-grounds sufficed for the trunks of my trees, and the ambered brown of their autumnal foliage. A wash of India-ink, dashed with indigo, answered for my skies and waters. Thus I got along wonderfully with my landscapes : but my chief delight was in peopling them ; and how to obtain tints for any variety of costume, was the ques- tion. After many experiments, I found the expressed juice of the scokeberry quite a passable pink, which, with changes and dilutions, supplied me with color for lips and cheeks, and dresses for my gay women and children. Mingled with indigo, it produced a kind of purple, which I used for kingly robes. But it was hideous, and something better employed my poor, in- ( fantine chemistry night and day. I had executed wh{^.t I considered a veiy fine scene fi*om Roman history, ar>.'\ MY TEACHERS. 65 wanted something for the flowing mantles of the sena- tors. Images of the Tyrian purple haunted me, and flashed before my dreams. I pressed the rich petals of the pansy, but they yielded nothing to my hope. At lencrth, in one of our desserts, I observed in the over- flowing syrup of a tart, composed of the ripe currant and whortleberry, the identical tint for which I had so earnestly sought. Requesting a few spoonfuls, after sundry filtrations I applied it to the drapery of a belle, and, had I known the meaning of Eureka^ should have shouted it at the top of my voice. But as the saccha- rine properties of my new color eventually predomi- nated, causing the dress to cleaA'e away from the form it arrayed, I did not use it for the conscript fathers. A single brush, in these processes of limning, was all that I could call my own. When I desired some of larger caj^acity, I found that I could manufacture them from small quills and my own soft hair. This one nice little brush, with the pieces of India-ink and gamboge before mentioned, and a lead-pencil, were all the arti- cles for which I was indebted to the shops, in this my early career toward the fine arts. Yet the rapture enjoyed in my solitary chamber, as these untaught efibrts accumulated, was indescribable. Xot even a particle of rubber was mine, that substance not being .hen common ; so that I was careful to draw with ex- treme accuracy, effacing the few false outlines with crumbs of stale bread. Though the delight experi- 5G LETTERS OF LIFE. cnccd from lliis unpromj^tod impulse of taste was douhtloss heiijliteiuMl by the ingenuity of the expe- dients that sustained it, I ean never give paper or speech nny semblance of the joy with which I received from my father's hand, soon after entering this new school, a box of the finest water colors, with camel's- hair pencils of different sizes, drawing paper, and a piece of India-rubber, which I have kept to this day, a simple trophy and record of the past. Thus reenforced and upbuilt, I proceeded to copy large and complicated patterns, taking pride in the degree of labor they re- quired. " Maria," or the crazy girl described by the sentimental Yorick, was one of the first large pictures of my production. She 'was represented sitting under an immense tree, with exuberant brown tresses, a pink jacket and white satin petticoat, gazing pensively at a small lapdog fastened to her hand by a smart blue rib- bon. Sterne is seen at a distance, taking note of her with an eye-glass, riding in a yellow-bodied coach, upon a fresh-looking turnpike road, painted in stripes with ochre and bistre. But notwithstanding this, and other pictorial exhibitions of shepherds and shepherd- esses, encompassed by huge wreaths and emblems, were sufficiently lauded and marvelled at, my proficiency, after I was furnished with every requisite material, did not equal my perseverance in the days of my destitit- tion. The few rules which were given us, and whi^tti were almost entirely about the use of colors, no correct MY TEACHERS. 57 ones for perspective being accorded, seemed rather an incumbrance, and I secretly bemoaned my lost satisfac- tions in sketching ad libitum from the historians and poets. A boldness of literary enterprise also came over me ; and, though I had scarcely perused a novel except sur- re23titiously, I commenced to write one. It was in the epistolary style, and a part of the scene laid in Italy. I remember several of the letters, which, contrary to my previous habit with all other comj^ositions, I men- tioned to my comj^anions. Forthwith there was a burst of ridicule from the grown-up young ladies of the school. " What a fool Lydia Huntley is ! Don't you think, she is undertaking to write a novel, and only just eight years old ! She can no more do it than she could tame Bucephalus. She'd better stick to her painting — and that's not over good." The critics, deeming my precocity too exuberant, and a subject for the pruning-knife, proceeded to occa- sional browbeatings, which were very slightly regard- ed. Most of my associates here were fully sensible of the honor of sharing the tuition of a lady from Lon- don, and were careful to comport themselves with suffi- cient exclusiveness, as a patrician order, when they ■encountered any of the members of the plebeian dis- trict schools. My next instructor' was strongly contrasted both in 58 LETTERS OF LIFE. person niul jmrsuit, nii earnest adept in mathematics. I had a fondness for arithmetie, derived from ray fatlior, and used often to work out by myself the more difficult problems in Daboll, the standard book of the times, and show him the result, because it was always repaid by his peculiar smile, and coveted eulogium of " Good child ! good child ! " But this earnest-minded gentleman, a graduate of Trinity College, Dublin, find- ing in me the application that he liked, led me on from stage to stage of accuracy in computation, to higher principles and pleasures of demonstrative science, where, fearing no change, no failure of experiment, no mistake in conclusion, we advance fearlessly to the truth, and are satisfied. The salutary influence of such studies on the intellect, especially that of females, I believe to be great. Too little time is apt to be accorded to them. It was so in my own case. Yet I look back on them now, at this great distance of time, as on a heritage not to be alienated. My enthusiasm, while pursuing them, led me to endorse the precept which Plato caused to be inscribed over the door of his school : " Let no one enter here who is ignorant of geometry." After my school-days were over, and philosophical reading be- came a source of satisfaction, I fully subscribed to the axiom of Bacon : " Mathematics, if the mind be too wandering, fix it ; if too inherent in the senses, abstract- it." I have always felt in some degree a debtor to warm-hearted Erin for the instructions of this her MT TEACHERS. 59 grave, silver-haired, and erudite son, who, with his family, became inhabitants of our country ere the tide of emigration had awakened its present unebbing flood. My parents next decided to send me to the institu- tion endowed, as has been already mentioned, by Dr. Daniel Lathrop, all of whose members had the privi- lege of instruction in Latin and Greek, after making requisite progress in the solid English branches. Hith- erto, when not under private tuition, I had always attended at a schoolhouse, sheltered and shouldered by ledges of gray rock, and within sight of the windows of our dining-room. Xow I was to go to one on the green plain near the meeting-house, half a mile from home. It was like turning away from the brooding wino; — the first fliofht from the nest. This walk, four times a day, at all seasons and in all weathers — for I could never consent to be absent for the wildest wintry storm, lest I should lose my place in the class — gave a spirit of self-reliance and a sense of liberty and power never before realized. Both these edifices were of red brick, much on the same plan, though of difierent sizes, with unpainted desks and benches projected around three sides of the room, the fourth having a recess for the teacher's desk, a closet for books, a space for the water pitcher, and a capacious fireplace, where plenty of wood crackled and blazed and disappeared. Do not suppose, friend, that I am about to satirize the scholastic temples of my own day, bare as they 60 LETTERS OF LIFE. were of .'ill ll)(> np|)linnces of modern luxury. Rem- nants of a barbarous age tbey inipjlit flouV)tless now be 8tyle