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THE  LIFE  OF  MARY  LYON 


KOYJ 


THE 

LIFE  OF  MARY  LYON 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

RibcrsiDc  prestf  Cambritige 
1910 


COPYRIGHT,  IQIO,  BY   BETH  BRADFORD  GILCHRIST 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


^_  T)  Published  April  IQIO 


/S37 


THIRD  IMPRESSION 


PREFACE 

EVERY  book  has  many  authors ;  the  title-page 
names  but  one.  To  all  those  who  in  countless 
ways  have  furthered  the  making  of  this  book, 
I  gratefully  acknowledge  my  debt:  men  and 
women  who  knew  Miss  Lyon  personally ;  their 
sons  and  daughters ;  alumnae  of  Mount  Holyoke 
and  people  holding  no  affiliation  with  it,  some 
of  them  concerned  with  other  schools ;  members 
of  the  college  faculty  who  throughout  the  work 
have  given  me  so  wise  a  seconding.  The  warm 
helpfulness  which  Miss  Lyon  evoked  in  life  has 
met  her  biographer  at  every  turn. 

The  book  is  immediately  derived  from  a  re- 
quest made  several  years  ago  by  President 
Wool  ley,  voicing  a  demand  that  has  been  gath- 
ering force  through  more  than  thirty  years.  In 
its  preparation  all  known  manuscripts  bearing 
intimately  or  remotely  on  Miss  Lyon's  life  have 
been  read,  but  it  is  not  unlikely  that  some  writ- 
ings exist  which  have  escaped  the  inquisitor's 
eye.  The  college  wishes  to  complete  either  in 


vi  PREFACE 

original  or  in  copy  its  collection  of  such  docu- 
ments, and  information  regarding  any  letters  or 
papers  which  may  be  known  to  the  reader  will 
be  welcomed  by  the  librarian  of  the  college. 

B.  B.  G. 

December,  1909. 


CONTENTS 

I.  AFTER  SIXTY  YEARS 1 

II.  AT  HOME          .        .        .        . .      .        .        .        13 

III.  AT  SCHOOL 39 

IV.  TEACHING 84 

V.  BREAKING  GROUND  FOR  MOUNT  HOLYOKE        .  158 

VI.  THE  FOUNDING  OF  MOUNT  HOLYOKE     .        .217 

VII.  THE  FOUNDING  OF  MOUNT  HOLYOKE  (Continued)  258 

VIII.  THE  COST  OF  PIONEERING       ....      327 

IX.  As  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER   ....  354 

X.  AN  APPRECIATION 407 

APPENDIX 

A.  Chronology  of  Mary  Lyon's  Life  .        .        .  433 

B.  First  Charter  of  Mount  Holyoke        .        .        .      436 

C.  Course  of  Study 437 

D.  Earliest  Form  of  Diploma          ....      442 

BIBLIOGRAPHY .  443 

INDEX  ....  455 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


MARY  LYON  (photogravure)    .......  Frontispiece 

From  a  miniature  painted  in  1832. 

SITE  OF  MARY  LYON'S  BIRTHPLACE,  IN  BUCKLAND,  MASS.    14 
The  cellar  of  the  house  is  seen  in  left  foreground. 
From  a  photograph  by  Asa  S.  Kinney. 

CLESSONS  RIVER  m  EARLY  AUTUMN 30 

•From  a  photograph  by  Asa  S.  Kinney. 

THE  WHITE  HOMESTEAD  AT  ASHFIELD 56 

From  a  photograph  by  Asa  S.  Kinney. 

PROGRAMME  OP  THE  EXHIBITION  AT  ASHFIELD  ACADEMY 
FEBRUARY  13,  1818 60 

FACSIMILE  OF  LETTER  TO  Miss  WHITE  DATED  FEBRU- 
ARY 26,  1834 184 

• 

MOUNT  HOLYOKE  IN  1837 248 

From  "  The  History  and  Antiquities  of  Every  Town  in  Mas- 
sachusetts," by  J.  W.  Barber,  Worcester,  1839. 

MOUNT  HOLYOKE  AFTER  THE  ADDITIONS  OF  1840-41      286 
The  cupola  shown  in  this  picture,  though  planned  by  Miss 
Lyon  and  voted  by  the  trustees,  was  not  actually  built  until 
1800. 


x  ILLUSTRATIONS 

MAHY  LTON  CHAPEL  AND  ADMINISTRATION  HALL  ON 

THE   SlTE   OF   THE   FlRST   BUILDING 324 

From  a  photograph  by  Asa  S.  Kinney. 

THE  GRAVE  OF  MARY  LYON 850 

From  a  photograph  by  Asa  S.  Kinney. 

MARY  LYON  AT  FORTY-EIGHT 360 

From  a  daguerreotype. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MARY  LYON 


THE  LIFE  OF  MARY  LTON 
CHAPTER  I 

AFTER   SIXTY  YEARS 

WHEN  one  dies  who  in  life  has  counted  foi 
much,  his  fellows  do  not  leave  him  unmemorial- 
ized.  Though  he  is  no  longer  here  to  speak  for 
himself,  print  seems  to  make  less  final  the  sen- 
tence of  the  Great  Silence.  It  is  a  pledge  that 
not  yet  shall  he  join  the  ranks  of  the  unknown 
dead. 

Such  a  compulsion  Mary  Lyon's  death  laid  on 
her  contemporaries.  To  perpetuate  the  know- 
ledge of  her  was  to  them  a  duty  owed  no  less  to 
love  than  to  humanity.  The  first  memoir,  a  col- 
laboration appearing  after  two  years  under  the 
name  of  Edward  Hitchcock  of  Amherst  College, 
its  editor  and  co-author  with  Miss  Hannah 
White  and  Mrs.  Eunice  Caldwell  Cowles,  as- 
sisted by  Mrs.  Zilpah  Grant  Banister,  all  inti- 
mate friends  of  Miss  Lyon,  carried  into  far  cor- 
ners of  the  world  the  inspiration  of  her  living. 


2        THE  LIFE  OF  MARY  LYON 

A  reprint  with  changes  followed,  and  still  later 
another  memorial,  written  by  Fidelia  Fisk  on 
somewhat  different  lines.  Mrs.  Sarah  Locke 
Stow's  semicentennial  history  of  Mount  Hoi- 
yoke  opens  with  a  sketch  of  its  founder  which 
is  an  epitome  of  careful  research.  But  though 
an  age  may  photograph  its  dominant  spirits, 
it  cannot  take  their  measure.  A  life  must  re- 
cede physically  to  appear  in  its  true  propor- 
tions. Only  when  time  has  had  a  chance  to 
catch  up  with  it  and  to  turn  the  stuff  of  its 
dreams  into  the  fabric  of  reality,  can  men  dis- 
tinguish how  far-reaching  were  the  filaments 
it  spun  into  the  future,  how  surely  it  helped  by 
its  own  foreshadowing  to  evoke  a  world  that 
was  not  when  it  lived.  For  while  every  person- 
ality transcends  its  allotted  span,  a  great  man 
stands,  a  Colossus,  bridging  generations.  The 
present  view  is  certain  not  to  be  reproduced 
exactly  on  the  other  side  of  half  or  of  twice  a 
century;  he  may  look  bigger  from  over  there 
or  less  significant ;  it  is  the  same  figure,  but  the 
point  of  view  has  changed. 

Such  a  shifting  of  ground  calls  out  this  book. 
The  early  chroniclers  of  Mary  Lyon  wrought 


AFTER  SIXTY  YEARS  3 

in  the  shadow  of  her  time,  themselves  a  part 
of  what  they  wrote,  and  the  end  was  not  yet. 
With  the  lapse  of  sixty  years  since  her  death, 
their  judgment  calls,  not  for  reversal,  but  for 
filling  out.  Phases  of  which  they  took  little  note 
bulk  large  in  our  eyes,  slighted  points  grow  sig- 
nificant. The  values  they  emphasized  were  the 
values  of  their  day.  They  knew  the  daring  ge- 
nius of  the  woman  of  whom  they  wrote ;  they 
recognized  that  the  forces  she  had  set  in  motion 
had  not  yet  worked  to  their  legitimate  conclu- 
sions. She  put  her  trust  in  the  future,  and  the 
restatement  of  her  life  in  modern  terms  is  a 
debt  already  somewhat  overdue. 

On  what  was  worthy  of  print  and  of  the  dead 
our  grandfathers  held  high  notions.  Their  me- 
morials, like  their  manners,  breathe  a  measured 
unfamiliar  courtesy.  They  would  dignify  the 
dead,  forgetting  in  the  might  of  what  they  did 
those  humannesses  that  had  endeared  them 
to  their  kind.  Even  down  to  recent  decades, 
American  letters  have  set  up  marble  statues  on 
the  graves  they  have  delighted  to  honor.  To  the 
generation  that  knew  an  original  this  mattered 
little ;  memory  could  breathe  upon  the  stone 


4       THE  LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

until  the  red  blood  ran  through  its  veins.  So 
at  first  the  men  and  women  who  had  known  her 
thought  the  early  Lives  of  Mary  Lyon  adequate. 
The  stiff  and  rather  formal  lines  of  her  figure 
filled  out  under  the  touch  of  reminiscence.  The 
sparkle  came  back  to  her  bright  blue  eyes,  the 
pink  to  her  cheeks,  bespeaking,  as  one  has  writ- 
ten, "a  joyousness  of  spirit  far  more  rare  in 
those  days  than  now."  To  us  who  have  not 
their  advantage  only  the  facts  remain,  held  in 
a  tissue  of  words  into  which  we  have  no  wand 
to  conjure  life. 

Yet  among  us  still  dwell  a  few  who  loved  the 
woman  and  who  would  not  that,  with  them, 
remembrance  of  the  tingling  touch  of  her  per- 
sonality should  vanish  from  the  earth. 

The  materials  out  of  which  to  reconstruct  her 
figure  leave  much  to  be  desired.  She  never 
made  ready  for  a  biographer.  She  left  little  rec- 
ord of  herself  in  words.  Her  many  letters,  hur- 
riedly written,  unstudied,  missives  of  occasion, 
dealt  strictly  with  the  business  in  hand.  While 
she  held  in  highest  reverence  the  ability  to 
write,  she  herself  wrote  practically  nothing  be- 
yond what  necessity  required.  The  sole  excep- 


tion  is  an  unsigned  booklet  of  a  hundred  pages, 
"A  Missionary  Offering,"  struck  off  at  white 
heat  during  a  time  of  financial  stringency  in  the 
affairs  of  the  American  Board,  which,  as  we 
have  evidence,  found  enthusiastic  readers  of  the 
more  critical  sort.  A  few  circulars  and  pam- 
phlets exist,  relative  to  the  founding  of  Mount 
Holyoke,  the  most  important  bearing  unmis- 
takably Miss  Lyon's  imprint,  though  in  but 
one  case  her  signature,  and  all  directed  solely 
to  enlisting  in  her  project  the  interest  and  aid 
of  her  generation.  She  was  too  busy  building 
her  ideas  into  the  tissue  of  society  to  make  notes 
of  what  she  was  about.  For  hers  was  preemi- 
nently a  pragmatic  genius:  she  spoke  most 
clearly  in  her  deeds.  So  she  elaborated  no  sys- 
tem of  education  on  paper.  "  One  principle  re-  *  / 
duced  to  practice  [is]  better  than  ten  in  theory," 
she  said. 

This  quality,  while  it  gave  her  nature  sanity 
and  poise,  makes  it  unlikely  that  she  will  ever 
receive  full  credit  for  the  breadth  of  her  edu- 
cational outreach.  A  singular  modernity  dis- 
tinguished her,  and  she  found  few  or  none 
to  whom  she  could  disclose  her  whole  mind. 


6       THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

In  what  many  looked  on  as  robust  accomplish- 
ment, she  saw  but  a  beginning.  Of  this  a  pas- 
sage speaks  here  and  there  in  letter  or  pam- 
phlet or  catalogue.  Now  and  then,  in  talks  to 
her  girls  in  afternoon  "hall,"  she  dropped  a 
word  or  two;  illuminating  sentences  shine  out 
from  the  jottings  of  student  note-books,  the  too 
infrequent  outposts  of  her  dreams.  Thinking 
much  of  others,  seldom  of  herself,  careless  of 
her  rights  and  spendthrift  of  her  strength,  a 
woman  with  whom  to  know  was  a  physical  pas- 
sion ;  to  do,  a  spiritual  necessity,  yet  who  did  not 
what  she  would  but  what  she  could  —  to  her  it 
mattered  little  that  her  ideas  might  pass  into 
usage,  uncopyrighted.  To  give  them  currency 
mattered  much. 

The  letters,  both  those  she  received  and  those 
she  sent,  serve  to  fix  the  personal  note.  The 
first  place  her  among  her  kind,  —  they  reflect 
the  everyday  judgment  of  those  with  whom  she 
held  intercourse.  The  second  class  of  letters 
is  by  far  the  more  important.  Out  of  the 
thousands  that  she  must  have  written  only  a 
few  score  manuscripts  remain :  business  notes, 
alert  and  terse;  friendly  chats  with  relatives 


AFTER  SIXTY  YEARS  7 

and  acquaintances;  occasional  answers  to  the 
many  inquiries  regarding  some  department  of 
her  school.  They  are  eloquent  of  her  life:  no 
leisurely  rambles  through  the  pleasant  byways 
of  conversation ;  to  the  point,  yet  fluent.  The 
independence  of  their  swift  running  hand  seems 
more  at  home  in  our  day  than  with  the  precise 
penmanship  of  the  thirties  and  forties.  Frag- 
ments of  time  sufficed  for  the  writing;  a  wait 
in  a  dentist's  office,  the  interval  between  stages 
of  a  journey,  moments  snatched  from  the 
greedy  duties  of  an  executive  position.  Written 
when  men  wrote  even  their  letters  of  friendship 
formally,  there  is  about  these  letters  a  virility 
that  makes  the  labored  epistles  so  character- 
istic of  the  time  sound  more  stilted.  They  are 
quite  free  from  self-consciousness  and  from  any 
attempt  to  be  either  eloquent  or  witty;  she 
was  too  simple  and  direct  and  unselfcentred 
to  be  intentionally  clever.  But  she  never  had 
time  to  perfect  her  style.  It  is  much  easier  to  be 
diffuse  than  concise,  and  her  brain  teemed  with 
thoughts  that  crowded  unrebuked  to  the  tip  of 
her  pen.  All  her  more  public  writings  bear  the 
mark  of  haste  in  an  unpruned  exuberance  of 


8       THE  LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

idea.  "  I  thought  I  could  put  it  all  on  one  sheet, 
and  probably  I  could  if  I  had  time,"  she  apolo- 
gizes once,  with  a  sound  instinct  of  self-criti- 
cism. They  are  essentially  the  letters  of  a  per- 
son at  home  in  action,  telling  big  things  simply, 
without  pictorial  effect.  Such  letters  as  some  of 
these,  scouts  write  in  war  time.  In  reading,  one 
gains  the  sense  of  a  vast  energy,  the  onrush  of 
an  irresistible  personality.  There  is  something 
alive  here.  And  every  now  and  then  a  bit  of 
vigorous  or  delicate  phrasing,  a  tender  simpli- 
city of  expression,  denote  them  hers  as  certainly 
as  does  her  signature. 

Supplementing  the  letters  in  helping  to  re- 
vivify her  figure,  come  the  recollections  of 
those  who  knew  her.  Here  we  must  tread  gen- 
tly, for  we  are  stepping  on  memories.  They 
are  less  clear-cut,  less  distinct,  less  trustworthy, 
than  contemporary  records.  But  after  all  due 
allowances  are  made,  something  valuable  re- 
mains. Those  set  down  within  a  few  years  of 
her  death  may  be  accepted  practically  as  they 
stand.  Of  the  later  ones,  when  scores  of  people, 
through  the  mists  of  a  quarter  or  even  a  half 
century  and  more,  testify  independently  to  her 


9 

possession  of  the  same  qualities,  their  word  is 
of  worth.  Memory  does  not  always  fail  in  old 
age ;  often  it  bridges  nearer  scenes  to  quicken 
the  long-past  days  of  youth. 

From  such  original  documents  as  these,  from 
Miss  Lyon's  correspondence,  her  personal  and 
family  papers,  letters  reminiscent  of  her,  note- 
books of  her  students  and  faculty,  pamphlets 
and  catalogues  of  her  own  and  of  other  schools, 
this  book  takes  its  departure.  In  some  cases 
previous  writings,  notably  the  first  memoir, 
have  been  referred  to  for  facts  or  quotations 
not  otherwise  obtainable. 

But  is  it  worth  while  to  disturb  the  dust  on 
these  papers  in  order  to  visualize  an  ill-paid 
teacher  of  girls  ?  Mary  Lyon  was  not  a  pro- 
found thinker;  she  added  nothing  to  the  sum 
of  the  world's  speculation.  She  was  no  scholar 
in  the  sense  of  one  who  gives  his  life  to  reclaim 
from  nescience  some  narrow  plot  of  knowledge. 
She  traveled  little ;  save  for  isolated  excursions, 
New  England  circumscribed  her  bodily  life. 
True,  she  founded  a  school ;  but  one  may  do 
that  any  day  now,  —  many  other  people  did  it 
then. 


10     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Were  this  all,  perhaps  it  would  not  be  worth 
while.  Were  she  merely  one  who,  stepping  out 
of  the  rank  and  file  of  her  contemporaries,  took 
the  initiative,  there  would  accrue  to  her  only 
the  interest  of  daring.  But  some  picturesque 
people  have  the  good  fortune  to  be  born  at  the 
right  time.  They  confer  distinction  on  their 
generation,  their  generation  confers  distinction 
on  them ;  it  is  a  mutual  affair.  Mary  Lyon  grew 
up  and  did  her  work  in  the  roomy  half -century 
that,  the  world  over,  sheltered  so  many  begin- 
nings. People  were  waking  to  an  interest  in 
the  world  they  lived  in,  too  vulgar  for  the  gen- 
teel eighteenth  century;  everywhere  speculat- 
ing and  experimenting,  questioning  old  stand- 
ards, calling  on  each  other  to  stop  and  look  and 
listen.  Miracles  were  then  no  fables,  they  hap- 
pened every  day.  The  sun  took  pictures,  the 
lightning  ran  errands,  water  unrolled  an  Alad- 
din's carpet  at  one's  feet.  A  holy  world  was  not 
afar  off,  the  vision  of  saints,  but  a  thing  whose 
imminence  was  demonstrable  by  mathematics 
and  in  whose  coming  human  enterprise  must 
bear  its  part.  Even  the  day  of  doom  was  a  date 
foreknown  and  scheduled. 


AFTER  SIXTY  YEARS  11 

Men  and  women  joined  hands  in  brother- 
hood. A  passion  of  sympathy  welled  up  in  their 
hearts,  driving  them  into  the  ranks  of  the  abo- 
litionists ;  sending  them  on  missions  to  China, 
India,  Africa ;  building  hospitals,  asylums,  re- 
formatories. The  abounding  energy  that  was 
abroad  swept  over  the  country  in  great  revivals 
of  religion ;  quickened  literature,  science,  edu- 
cation, industry;  hurled  westward  a  tide  of 
emigration  that  rolled  over  the  great  plains, 
crested  the  Rockies,  and  broke  on  the  coast  of 
California.  At  the  turn  of  the  century  it  knocked 
on  the  reserves  of  Asia.  Out  of  the  clamor  of 
many  voices  rose  the  national  note,  clearer, 
more  insistent.  Isolation  was  going,  commu- 
nion was  coming.  What  was  true  of  America 
was  true  also  to  a  large  extent  of  Europe.  The 
modern  world  was  taking  root. 

And  here  we  who  would  look  at  our  origins 
find  Mary  Lyon,  a  compelling  figure,  standing 
at  the  beginning  of  to-day.  She,  too,  adventured 
with  her  fellows.  There  were  many  expeditions 
then  fitting  out,  and  for  many  goals.  We  who 
live  in  a  generation  widely  experienced  in  the 
higher  education  of  women  have  forgotten  that 


12     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

it  once  served  the  purpose  of  a  Golden  Fleece. 
It  is  hard  for  us  to  realize  that  women  have  not 
always  been,  as  a  class,  "  citizens  of  the  intellec- 
tual world."  We  have  forgotten  how  lately  our 
mothers  landed  on  these  shores,  how  critically 
their  passports  were  examined,  how  long  they 
remained  in  residence  before  they  were  allowed 
to  take  out  naturalization  papers.  The  educa- 
tional conviction  that  gripped  the  nineteenth 
century  called  for  men  and  women  of  creative 
imagination  who,  through  the  fog  of  what  was, 
could  see  what  ought  to  be.  Her  possession  of 
this  imagination  gives  to  the  life  of  Mary  Lyon 
an  interest  for  more  than  the  student  of  educa- 
tion. In  company  with  discoverers  of  all  ages 
she  embarked  on  chartless  seas.  No  ship  had 
passed  that  way  before.  She  might — who  could 
foretell  ?  —  sight  the  coasts  of  a  new  world. 


CHAPTER  II 

AT   HOME 

MART  LYON  was  born,  February  28,  1797,  in 
Buckland,  a  town  of  Franklin  County,  then  in- 
corporated as  a  part  of  Hampshire  County,  in 
Massachusetts. 

One  who  would  seek  her  birthplace  has  a 
choice  of  ways  of  approach.  An  advocate  of 
trains  buys  a  ticket  to  Shelburne  Falls,  and 
puffs  beside  the  memory-haunting  Deerfield 
River.  A  lover  of  the  open  road  leaves  the  val- 
ley, and  with  the  help  of  a  venturesome  yet 
deliberate  little  trolley,  climbs  to  Conway  and 
thence  by  stage  to  Ashfield.  Or  he  may  drive 
to  Ashfield  from  Williamsburg,  if  the  legs  of 
the  horse  be  stout.  Mary  Lyon  lived  upon  the 
heights.  Whether  the  Mecca  be  gained  from 
north  or  south,  it  is  by  a  road  always  a-tilt  upon 
the  hills,  a  road  that  runs  its  rocky  midlap,  tree- 
fringed  and  weather-roughened,  through  a 
farm.  A  bar  has  of  late  halted  the  traveler 


14  THE  LIFE  OF  MARY  LYON 

from  Shelburne  Falls  and  sent  him  on  an  up- 
ward circuit  of  wild  pastures.  Coming  from 
Ashfield,  one  finds  the  way  longer  and  sharper, 
but  there  is  no  danger  of  getting  lost.  Men 
working  on  the  road  will  set  a  wanderer  right ; 
should  he  err  again,  only  to  be  brought  up 
roundly  in  some  dooryard  terminal,  an  agile 
white-bearded  old  man  directs  him,  calling  at- 
tention by  the  way  to  "  the  most  beautiful  glen 
in  the  world,"  a  rating  one  feels  no  mission 
to  dispute.  Thereafter  a  chair-bound  invalid 
cheerfully  reassures  distrust.  Who  are  these 
people  who  know  their  own  landmarks  ? 

The  road  swerves  about  the  shoulder  of  a  hill 
and  a  signboard  points  across  the  fields :  "  To 
the  Birthplace  of  Mary  Lyon."  A  fence  or  two 
and  a  damp  pasture  give  on  an  open  slope. 
Gray  stone- walls  crisscross  its  quiet  face,  some 
going  definitely  about  their  business,  others 
halting  suddenly  as  though  they  had  forgotten 
with  what  intent  they  first  set  out.  A  little 
brook  scrambles  down  over  the  cool,  shadowed 
rocks.  Beyond  it  young  pines  whisper  to- 
gether; on  this  side  ancient  apple  trees  stand 
in  knotted  dignity,  a  group  of  elms,  scattered 


S3     3 

fa    « 
O 

E 


AT  HOME  15 

birches,  and  maples  start  up  the  slope  — 
at  the  top  the  sheep  go  silently,  silhouetted 
against  the  sky.  Midway,  naked  on  the  hill- 
side, lies  an  old  cellar-hole.  Ferns  cling  in  the 
spaces  between  its  stones.  Out  of  one  corner 
grows  a  butternut,  a  bush  of  dogwood  crouch- 
ing at  its  foot.  In  front  the  ground  slips  down 
past  faint  traces  of  an  old  road  to  a  gray  wall 
and  the  woods. 

A  bronze  tablet,  set  in  a  boulder  near,  marks 
the  spot  as  other  than  any  hillside  and  any 
cellar-hole.  The  driver,  if  such  a  commodity 
was  included  in  the  livery  bill,  has  given  word 
of  the  passing  of  the  house.  Disuse,  followed 
by  a  habit  of  ripping  off  clapboards,  loosened 
its  hold  on  the  slope  and  it  was  taken  down 
forty  years  ago.  One  does  not  miss  it.  Mary 
Lyon  was  primarily  an  out-of-door  product,  a 
creature  with  whose  composition  hills  and  the 
open  sky  had  more  to  do  than  houses.  The 
sight  of  her  "mountain  home"  adds  to  know- 
ledge a  sense  of  intimacy.  Sympathy  with  a 
person's  loves  leads  closest  to  his  heart,  and  to  I/ 
this  "wild  romantic  little  farm"  she  gave  such./ 
a  wealth  of  tenderness  as  strong  natures  often 


16     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

lavish  on  the  places  that  have  passed  into  their 
blood. 

How  quietly  the  sunshine  sleeps,  seeming  to 
hold  in  a  spell  of  warm  remembrance  the  child 
who  once  ran  riot  here.  The  whole  slope  talks 
of  her  to  a  wise  listener.  Over  this  rough  rock- 
threshold  she  bounded  to  the  little  waterfall. 
Here  her  busy  fingers  threaded  the  June  grass 
for  ripe  strawberries.  The  tangle  of  cinnamon 
roses  to  the  southwest  of  the  cellar-hole  —  has 
it  run  wild  from  the  old  garden  ?  Perhaps  one 
or  another  of  the  gouty  apple  trees  in  slim 
straight  youth  rained  petals  on  an  eager  little 
face.  These  grassy  hints  of  ruts  led  her  to 
church  on  Sabbath  mornings  through  a  "wild 
winding  way,"  where  in  summer  "the  family 
pony  gave  the  mother  her  horseback  ride," 
and  in  winter  sped  "that  little  sleigh,  packed 
so  snugly  and  gliding  so  gently."  Along  here, 
too,  in  the  days  when  this  green  echo  of  a  road, 
lusty  and  brown,  climbed  over  the  hills  to  Ash- 
field,  came  visiting  aunts  and  cousins ;  "  child- 
ish days,"  they  were,  "when  the  homes  and 
houses  of  uncles  and  friends  form  no  unim- 
portant part  of  the  geographic  literature." 


AT   HOME  17 

And  still,  as  in  those  far-off  years,  the  top  of 
the  hill  "invites  each  aspiring  heart."  Where 
she  has  led  the  way,  one  who  knows  her  Mary 
Lyon  follows,  up  the  brook,  beyond  the  apple 
trees,  over  juniper  and  ground-pine  and  out- 
cropping rock-ledges  sparkling  with  quartz 
and  mica  crystals,  by  laurel  bush  and  stunted 
thorn-apple,  up,  ever  up,  across  the  grass,  green 
and  juicy  in  spring,  in  autumn  dry  and  slippery 
and  nibbled  short  by  the  sheep.  Up  this  steep 
she  used  to  run,  the  nearer  summits  sinking  as 
she  went,  until,  where  the  winds  never  cease  to 
blow,  the  kingdom  of  the  hills  was  spread  out 
before  her.  Everywhere,  mountains,  moun- 
tains, and  more  mountains.  An  ocean  billow- 
ing on  every  side,  wave  heaving  after  wave  to 
where  the  farthest  crests  break  in  faint  blue 
against  the  sky.  A  choppy  sea  runs  to  the 
south ;  to  the  north  hills  roll  in  longer  sweeps. 
Some  of  them  bear  names  that  carry  far,  — 
Greylock,  Wachusett,  Monadnock,  Holyoke, 
Tom.  And  in  between  surge  a  multitude  of 
lesser  heights.  Color  clothes  them,  infinite  as  tJ 
the  sea's  and  as  changeful ;  the  sun  kisses 
their  wooded  crests,  but  a  soft  bloom  creeps 


18     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

out  of  the  valleys  and  muffles  their  sides  in 
shadow. 

One  may  stand  here  and  see  no  more  human 
sign  than  a  white  steeple  or  a  bit  of  road  march- 
ing sturdily  away,  and  over  its  shoulder  flinging 
back  its  endless  invitation.  But  move  to  the 
north,  and  out  of  the  green  directly  below  pricks 
the  tiny  village  of  Buckland.  Snugly  it  nestles 
in  the  valley,  the  insistent  spire  of  its  little 
white  church  pointing  upward,  —  New  Eng- 
land's symbol. 

So  it  looked  years  ago  to  that  other  watcher ; 
and  here  on  the  top  of  the  world  the  energy  that 
pounded  in  her  veins  used  to  boil  over.  Simply 
to  be  alive  was  joy.  For  very  exuberance  of 
gladness  her  laugh  rang  out,  rollicking  to  the 
nearest  hilltop,  startling  the  colts  in  the  next 
pasture.  Now  only  an  infrequent  whistle 
breaks  the  stillness  as  a  train  crawls  through 
the  valley. 

Though  it  lies  apart  from  the  trodden  way, 
the  hillside  is  not  so  hard  to  come  at.  A  hun- 
dred years  ago  matters  were  different.  When 
busy  grist  and  carding  mills  made  noises  on 
every  running  brook,  and  a  man's  world  was 


AT   HOME  19 

measured  off  by  the  stride  of  his  horse,  a  town 
fended  for  itself  in  sturdy  isolation.  It  housed, 
fed,  warmed,  clothed,  and  entertained  itself; 
the  nearer  it  lay  to  the  wilderness,  the  more 
independent  was  its  habit.  Buckland,  at  the 
close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  lay  very  near 
indeed.  Starting  out  in  a  humble  way  as  a 
squire's  deer-park,  it  had  attained  incorporate 
existence  during  the  Revolutionary  War.  Ash- 
field,  the  parent,  could  count  its  years  but  two 
or  three  decades  further,  and  among  Ashfield's 
earliest  settlers  were  ancestors  of  Mary  Lyon. 
By  inheritance  she  was  a  pioneer.  Most  fam- 
ilies feel  that  they  have  done  their  share  toward 
reclaiming  the  earth  if  they  have  found  them- 
selves once  or  twice  in  the  skirmish-line  of  civi- 
lization ;  when  the  main  column  comes  up  they 
fall  into  step  again  with  the  rank  and  file. 
The  child's  forefathers,  on  her  mother's  side 
at  least,  were  of  a  hardier  breed.  Not  that 
she  came  of  a  race  of  New  England  nomads. 
Wherever  they  went,  there  they  set  their  mark 
upon  their  times,  and  there  the  majority  of 
them  stayed ;  but  in  almost  every  generation  the 
old  fire  broke  out  anew,  and,  curiously  enough, 


20     THE  LIFE  OF   MARY  LYON 

with  few  breaks  in  the  line  of  Mary  Lyon's  de- 
scent. Even  her  father  and  mother,  born  and 
bred  in  Ashfield,  to  make  their  home  moved 
over  the  line  to  the  side  of  Putnam  Hill  in  the 
newer  town  of  Buckland.  From  there  her  bro- 
ther pushed  on,  in  those  capacious  days  when 
western  New  York  held  the  wilderness. 

In  the  second  decade  of  New  England  immi- 
gration two  men  of  the  name  of  Smith  sailed 
for  settlements  on  Massachusetts  Bay.  Lieu- 
tenant Samuel  Smith  landed  from  the  Eliza- 
beth, of  Ipswich,  in  1634;  Reverend  Henry 
Smith  is  known  to  have  been  in  the  colony  two 
years  later.  Having  accomplished  the  voyage, 
they  were  still  ready  to  clasp  hands  with  oppor- 
tunity, and  newer  outposts  on  the  Connecticut 
soon  lured  them  both  to  Wethersfield,  where, 
after  eight  or  ten  years  of  preaching,  the  minis- 
ter died.  Theological  differences  of  opinion, 
those  whetstones  of  New  England  hardihood, 
soon  split  the  church,  and  the  majority  of  its 
members,  in  the  interests  of  "peace  and  har- 
mony," again  fared  forward,  led  by  Reverend 
John  Russell,  who  had  stepped  into  both  Mr. 
Smith's  shoes,  having  become  with  Puritan 


AT  HOME  21 

thoroughness  at  once  the  pastor  of  his  church 
and  the  father  of  his  family.  To  the  north,  in 
the  Indian  valley  of  Norwottuck,  they  founded 
Hadley.  There  the  intrepid  Smiths  halted 
just  long  enough  to  unite  the  two  lines:  the 
granddaughter  of  the  lieutenant  married  the 
grandson  of  the  minister.  Their  son  Chileab 
was  one  of  the  first  on  the  ground  at  South  Had- 
ley. That  he  did  not  stay  longer  would  appear 
to  have  been  not  wholly  his  fault  in  a  day  when 
one  man's  beliefs  were  every  man's  business. 
"Having  agreed  with  Mr.  Edwards  who  had 
just  been  dismissed  from  the  Northampton 
Church,"  as  the  chronicle  runs,  Chileab  Smith 
inclined  to  help  populate  Ashfield,  which,  un- 
der the  name  of  Huntstown,  by  the  middle  of 
the  eighteenth  century  boasted  two  families. 
Here  he  became  the  most  picturesque  figure 
in  the  town's  history  and  the  great-grandfather 
of  Mary  Lyon. 

The  wilderness  broke  against  his  clearing. 
He  rose  up  with  danger  and  lay  down  with  in- 
security. His  stockade  held  out  hospitality  to 
other  families.  To  come  to  close  quarters  with 
nature  makes  a  man  not  only  quick  of  eye  and 


22     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

1 ] 


hand  and  wit,  but  also  generous.   Those  early 
settlers  did  not  ask  favor  from  life.    Hardily 


they  reached  out  to  pluck  good  from  the  future, 
and  ever,  as  is  the  way  with  pioneers,  hope 
perched  on  their  shoulder.  No  pessimist  ever 
breaks  new  trails,  —  it  is  not  worth  while. 

The  minds  of  the  Smiths  moved  as  stoutly  as 
their  bodies.  Lieutenant  Smith  and  his  son, 
grandfather  of  the  Ashfield  Chileab,  besides 
holding  many  religious  and  civic  offices,  were 
prominent  in  educational  concerns.  The  lieu- 
tenant, with  four  other  "pious  and  able  men," 
divided  the  management  of  Hadley's  share  of 
the  Hopkins  bequest,  an  English  legacy  in- 
tended "  to  give  some  encouragement  in  those 
foreign  plantations  for  the  breeding  up  of  hope- 
ful youths  in  the  way  of  learning,  both  at  the 
grammar  school  and  college  for  the  public  ser- 
vice of  the  country  in  future  times."  His  son 
succeeded  him  in  the  trust  and  stood  staunchly 
in  a  small  minority  that  opposed  any  scrimp- 
ing of  the  scholarly  repast  spread  before  those 
"hopeful  youths"  of  Hadley.  When  Chileab 
of  Ashfield  refused  to  pay  for  the  support  of 
a  church  that  he  did  not  attend,  his  orchards 


AT   HOME  23 

were  torn  up  and  lands  belonging  to  him  were 
sold  to  pay  his  tithes.  He  and  his  sons  resisted 
bravely,  and  for  ten  years  with  frequent  trips 
to  the  General  Court  in  Boston  fought  the  in- 
justice of  a  union  between  church  and  state. 
Their  final  victory  made  that  quarter  of  the 
world  a  more  tolerant  place  in  which  to  live. 
Of  this  stock  came  Mary's  mother,  Jemima 
Shepard.  Behind  her  lay  generations  of  clean 
and  hardy  living ;  in  her  veins  ran  the  blood  of 
men  and  women  who  had  met  life  with  stout 
hearts  and  had  worn  old  age  with  virility.  The 
stalwart  Chileab  was  ordained  by  his  sons  a 
Baptist  minister  at  eighty  years. 

History  is  more  reticent  about  the  Lyons. 
They,  too,  came  early  to  Ashfield.  During  the 
Revolutionary  War  mention  is  made  of  Aaron 
Lyon,  senior,  as  of  "a  meet  person  to  pro- 
cure evidence  against  certain  persons  who  are 
thought  to  be  inimical  to  the  American  States." 
He  was  a  patriot.  Perhaps  from  him  came  his 
son's  notably  lovable  disposition. 

Unseen,  they  stood  about  the  cradle  of  the 
little  Mary  Lyon,  these  alert,  vigorous  people 
of  her  race,  and  gave  gifts  to  the  child.  What 


24     THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

had  been  their  own  they  gave  her,  —  a  sound 
]/  .  . 

body,  a  dauntless  spirit,  a  venturesome  mind. 

Into  her  hands  they  put  resourcefulness.  And 
then  at  the  last,  instead  of  the  wicked  fairy,  one 
stepped  forward  who  added  a  merry  heart. 

Her  home  supplied  the  contact  with  solid 
fact  needed  to  temper  this  dower  to  a  normal 
growth.  Early  she  felt  the  rough  edges  of  life. 
Before  she  was  six  her  father  died.  Her  first 
recorded  memory  is  of  this  death  that  came  so 
harshly  to  the  mountain  home,  while  the  De- 
cember sun  shone  on  the  white  slopes  and 
the  neighbors  whispered,  one  to  another,  "  We 
have  all  lost  a  friend  —  the  peacemaker  is 
gone."  That  "first cold  winter  of  widowhood" 
bit  deep  into  the  child's  remembrance.  A  little 
rock-ribbed  farm  clutching  at  a  New  England 
hillside  offers  insecure  support  to  a  woman  with 
a  lusty  family,  and  Mary  was  the  fifth  of  seven, 
six  daughters  and  one  son.  A  second  brother 
had  died  the  year  before  she  was  born.  Though 
children,  if  they  get  enough  nourishment,  like 
/hardy  bulbs,  root  best  in  the  cold,  on  poverty 
such  as  was  hers  many  would  have  been 
stunted.  Too  elemental  to  be  fastidious,  she 


AT   HOME  25 

made  it  succor  her,  drawing  health  from  what 
might  have  dwarfed  one  less  vital.  All  her  life 
she  had  a  way  of  forcing  bleak  circumstance  // 
to  serve  the  ends  of  her  spirit.  Yet  there  is  a  - 
frost  that  kills.  Only  the  country  could  have 
offered  life  without  loss  at  the  terms  the  Lyons 
had  to  pay ;  where  so  much  comes  free,  inde- 
pendence and  even  generosity  may  go  hand 
in  hand  with  scanty  means.  Only  in  old  New 
England  could  it  have  mattered  so  little  to 
be  poor.  There  the  world  gave  a  chance  at 
competence,  instead  of  wealth.  Money  was  not 
highly  esteemed ;  people  had  little  of  it,  perhaps 
because  they  had  for  it  few  uses.  America  was 
young,  and  money  is  seldom  reckoned  among 
the  chief  assets  of  youth.  Unsmothered  by 
things,  minds  had  plenty  of  room  in  which  to 
work.  Education  was  the  badge  of  the  only 
aristocracy  recognized;  at  the  head  of  the 
intellectual  hierarchy  stood  the  minister,  a  col- 
lege-bred man.  The  phrase  carried  a  rare  and 
high  significance. 

x  With  their  purses  empty  of  money,  people's 
thoughts  became  full  of  invention.  Mrs.  Lyon 
was  a  master-magician,  and  under  her  touch 


the  little  farm  yielded  a  wealthy  penury.  Of 
her  in  loving  remembrance  the  daughter  wrote 
long  afterward :  — 

"  Want  at  that  mountain  home  was  made  to 
alk  so  fairly  and  so  gracefully  within  that 
little  circle  of  means,  that  she  had  always  room 
enough  and  to  spare  for  a  more  restricted  neigh- 
bor. I  can  now  see  that  loved  widow  just  as  I 
did  in  the  days  of  my  childhood.  She  is  a  little 
less  than  forty  years  of  age  and  her  complexion 
is  as  fair  and  her  forehead  as  noble  and  as  lofty 
as  on  her  bridal  day.  Now  she  is  in  that  sweet 
little  garden,  which  needs  only  to  be  seen  to  be 
loved.  Now  she  is  surveying  the  work  of  the 
hired  man  and  her  little  son  on  that  wild  ro- 
mantic little  farm,  made,  one  would  think, 
more  to  feast  the  soul  than  to  feed  the  body. 
But  almost  always  she  was  to  be  found  busy, 
both  early  and  late,  amid  her  household  cares 
and  amid  the  culture  of  the  olive-plants  around 
her  table.  In  that  little  domain  nothing  was 
left  to  take  its  own  way.  Everything  was  made 
to  yield  to  her  faithful  and  diligent  hand.  It 
was  no  mistake  of  that  good-hearted  neighbor 
who  came  in  one  day,  begging  the  privilege  of 


AT   HOME  27 

setting  a  plant  of  rare  virtues  in  a  corner  of  her 
garden,  because,  as  he  said,  there  it  could  never 
die.  The  roses,  the  pinks,  and  the  peonies, 
those  old-fashioned  flowers  which  keep  time 
with  '  Old  Hundred,'  could  nowhere  grow  so 
fresh  and  so  sweet  as  in  that  little  garden.  And 
nowhere  else  have  I  ever  seen  wild  strawberries 
in  such  profusion  and  richness  as  were  gath- 
ered into  those  little  baskets.  Never  were  rare- 
ripes so  large  and  so  yellow,  and  never  were 
peaches  so  delicious  and  so  fair,  as  grew  on  the 
trees  of  that  little  farm.  The  apples,  too,  con- 
trived to  ripen  before  all  others,  so  as  to  meet 
in  sweet  fellowship  with  peaches  and  plums  to 
entertain  the  aunts  and  the  cousins.  ... 

"At  that  little  mountain  home  every  want 
was  promptly  and  abundantly  met  by  the  boun- 
ties of  summer  and  by  the  providence  for 
winter.  The  autumnal  stores,  so  nicely  sorted 
and  arranged,  always  traveled  hand  in  hand 
through  the  long  winter,  like  the  barrel  of  meal 
and  the  cruse  of  oil.  The  apples  came  out  fresh 
in  the  spring,  and  the  maple  sugar,  that  most 
important  grocery  of  that  little  neighborhood, 
was  never  known  to  fail  till  the  warm  sun  on 


the  sparkling  snow  gave  delightful  indications 
that  sugar-days  were  near.  When  gathered 
around  that  simple  table  no  one  desired  a 
richer  supply  than  was  furnished  by  the  hand 
of.  that  dear  mother.  The  simple  school-day 
dress,  too,  so  neat  and  so  clean,  was  amply 
sufficient  in  [the]  view  of  those  young  minds, 
while  the  rare  gift  of  the  Sunday  suit,  kept  ex- 
pressly for  the  occasion,  formed  an  important 
era  in  the  life  of  the  possessor  and  was  remem- 
bered with  grateful  smiles  for  many  days  to 
come.  The  children  of  that  household,  thus 
abundantly  supplied,  never  thought  of  being 
dependent  or  depressed.  They  felt  that  their 
father  had  laid  up  for  them  a  rich  store  in  grate- 
ful hearts  and  among  the  treasures  which  will 
never  decay,  and  that  their  mother,  who  was 
considered  in  all  that  little  neighborhood  a  sort 
of  presiding  angel  of  good  works,  was  continu- 
ally adding  to  those  stores.  I  can  now  remem- 
ber just  the  appearance  of  that  woman,  who 
had  a  numerous  household  to  clothe,  as  she 
said  one  day, '  How  is  it  that  the  widow  can  do 
more  for  me  than  any  one  else  ?" 

Under  such  a  mother  the  child  laid  the  f  oun- 


AT   HOME  29 

dations  of  her  life.  She  was  bred  to  making  the 
most  of  things.  Simple  pleasures  yielded  her  a 
vivid  joy,  and  years  later  she  blessed  the  home 
that  had  taught  her  how  to  be  happy  on  little. 
"Economy,"  she  flashed  one  day  to  her  stu- 
dents, "is  not  always  doing  without  things.  -It 
is  making  them  do  the  best  they  can."  This 
living  up  to  the  possibilities  of  things,  great  and 
small,  was  a  fashion  of  the  time ;  everybody  of 
standing  practiced  it,  from  the  man  who  had 
most  to  the  one  who  had  least.  The  habit, 
gained  in  childhood,  of  disdaining  no  trifle, 
opened  before  the  woman  many  doors  that 
must  otherwise  have  remained  to  her  forever 
closed.  At  the  same  time  she  knew  when  to  be 
lavish ;  there  are  privations  that  do  not  pay. 

On  a  farm  one  sees  the  adjustment  continu- 
ally going  on  between  one's  self  and  the  sources 
of  life.  There  the  peas  have  short  shrift  between 
the  vines  and  the  kettle,  the  potatoes  come 
brown  out  of  the  earth  soon  to  go  into  bins  in  the 
cellar,  the  apples  drop  from  the  trees  into  ready 
hands  —  a  mouth  is  not  far  distant.  When 
Mary  Lyon  was  young  the  round  of  a  farm's 
enterprise  met  every  want,  warming,  feeding, 


30     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

clothing.  The  widely  divergent  complications 
of  the  modern  economic  system  sprouted  in 
narrow  quarters.  The  wool  sheared  from  the 
sheep  that  fed  on  Putnam  Hill,  she  carded  and 
spun  into  thread ;  of  the  thread  she  wove  cloth 
and  on  horseback  carried  it  to  Pomeroy's  mill 
on  lovely  Clessons  River,  to  be  dressed ;  out  of 
the  cloth  that  her  hands  had  made  she  fash- 
ioned garments  and  wore  them.  This  early  ex- 
perience gave  to  all  her  later  ventures  that  touch 
of  practicality  which  comes  only  from  a  per- 
sonal accounting  to  the  great  facts  of  existence. 
Common  sense  lay,  a  solid  substratum,  under 
her  most  daring  plans  :  she  never  divorced  the- 
ory from  circumstance.  A  little  farm,  capably 
managed,  teaches  adaptability ;  and  her  meth- 
ods were  always  shaped  with  an  eye  to  actual 
achievement,  nor  did  she  grow  wedded  to  one 
set  way  of  doing  things,  even  her  own.  Con- 
vention did  not  fetter  her.  She  saw  it  to  be  no 
static  thing,  but  another  adjustment,  and  her 
earth-bred  sense  taught  her  when  to  respect  it 
and  when  to  set  it  aside. 

She  made  acquaintance  with  humanity  amid 
the  kindly  influences  of  a  big,  busy  family.  The 


AT   HOME  31 

jostlings,  clashes  of  will,  mutual  concessions, 
which  make  for  ease  of  intercourse  with  one's 
kind,  were  hers  early.  Together  all  the  children 
of  that  household  worked,  not  with  an  enforced 
industry,  superimposed  to  keep  them  active ; 
each  fitted  into  the  scheme  of  accomplishment. 
As  a  matter  of  course  she  learned  all  the  arts 
of  keeping  house.  Perhaps  here,  too,  in  a  day 
when  nursing  was  a  neighborly  service,  freely 
rendered,  she  gained  that  acquaintance  with 
the  face  of  illness  which  enabled  her,  years 
after,  at  a  glance  to  tell  the  nature  of  a  malady. 
Stockings,  sheets,  counterpanes,  as  well  as  cloth- 
ing, came  from  her  quick  fingers.  To  the  whir 
of  spinning-wheel  and  loom  making  quiet  music 
in  every  home  she  used  to  give  credit  for  the 
character  of  the  women  of  her  youth.  They 
had  no  nerves;  theirs  was  fretless  productive  \ 
labor,  and  usefulness  clothed  them  with  con- 
tent. 

The  child's  inventive  spirit  would  seem  to 
have  budded  characteristically.  She  was  still 
a  very  small  person  when  she  left  her  task  and 
climbed  up  in  a  chair  to  study  the  hour-glass. 
Questioned  by  her  mother  as  to  what  she  was 


32     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

doing,  she  answered  that  she  thought  she  had 
found  a  way  of  making  more  time!  Practical 
little  Mary  Lyon !  She  argued  wisely  from  the 
premises  at  her  disposal.  If  time  were  such  a 
valuable  commodity,  why  not  make  more  of  it  ? 

So  she  grew  up,  busying  her  brain  to  help  her 
mother,  adoring  her  elder  brother,  lavishing  on 
all  she  loved  a  wealth  of  affection  that  could  not 
do  too  much  to  make  them  happy.  A  frank, 
spirited,  lovable  child,  possessed  of  an  energy 
that  was  almost  volcanic  and  of  a  sweet  teach- 
ableness that  won  hearts.  Through  glad  eyes 
she  looked  at  the  world  and  found  it  good,  and 
the  people  in  it.  Often  she  found  it  highly  en- 
tertaining. Her  laugh  lay  very  near  her  lips, 
and  to  her  keen  sense  of  humor  she  added  a 
gift  of  putting  amusing  things  in  words,  that 
made  her  merry  company. 

As  soon  as  she  could  toddle  a  mile  she  went 
regularly  to  the  nearest  district  school.  But 
when  she  was  only  six  or  seven,  this  school,  in 
the  itinerant  fashion  of  its  kind,  careless  of  the 
disabilities  of  short  legs,  or  perhaps  desirous  of 
suiting  other  small  constituents,  moved  a  mile 
farther  from  the  Lyon  homestead.  After  this 


AT   HOME  33 

her  schooling  progressed  irregularly  —  a  term 
here,  a  term  there,  in  Ashfield  or  in  Buckland, 
while  she  lived  with  relatives  or  friends,  help- 
ing in  the  family,  as  the  custom  was,  for  her 
board. 

We  do  not  know  what  books  she  had.  The 
Bible,  certainly.  What  New  England  home  was 
without  it  ?  On  its  pages  children  learned  to 
read  —  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  hea- 
ven and  the  earth.  Like  Daniel  Webster,  she 
probably  was  unable  to  remember  a  time  when 
she  could  not  read  the  Bible.  Watts's  Psalms 
and  Hymns,  the  poetry  of  old  New.  England, 
must  have  been  hers  early.  Beyond  this,  little. 
Those  were  days  of  few  books,  printed  and 
bound  in  leather ;  men  and  women  formed  the 
greater  part  of  every  library.  Children  gath- 
ered about  grandparents  and  aunts  for  stories. 
Then  in  the  firelight  the  kid  and  his  master 
passed  over  London  Bridge,  Indians  crept 
stealthily  through  the  forest,  old  battles  raged 
once  more.  She  heard  much  thoughtful  talk, 
grave  discussion  of  knotty  dogmas.  Old  New 
England  reared  children  on  theology.  The 
shadow  of  the  giant  Edwards  lay  long  over  the 


34  THE  LIFE  OF  MARY  LYON 

land,  etching  a  religion,  prickly  on  the  outside 
but  very  tender  at  the  heart. 

If  there  were  few  books,  there  were  fewer 
newspapers.  News  passed  from  mouth  to 
mouth,  coaching  between  villages;  it  had  not 
then  even  dreamed  of  pricking  hotly  through 
the  air  on  a  wire.  Yet  Buckland  and  its  fellow 
towns  were  not  cut  off  upon  their  hills.  What 
stirred  the  whole  loosely  knit  community  stirred 
them  in  time.  "  I  remember,"  wrote  Miss  Lyon, 
"the  thoughts  of  my  young  heart  when  the 
subject  of  foreign  missions  first  began  to  find 
its  way  into  the  family  circle  and  was  spoken 
of  as  one  of  the  marvelous  things  of  the  age." 

The  isolation  of  life  gave  strength  to  its  cur- 
rent, and  what  it  lacked  in  breadth  it  added  to 
depth.  A  child's  attention,  roaming  few  fields, 
explored  them  thoroughly.  Mary  soaked  up 
information  like  a  sponge.  She  seems  never 
to  have  been  confronted  with  more  than  she 
could  hold.  And,  like  a  sponge,  when  occasion 
squeezed  ever  so  little,  she  gave  it  out.  Already 
people  liked  to  hear  her  talk;  she  did  it  in 
headlong  fashion,  the  words  tumbling  so  fast 
out  of  her  mouth  as  sometimes  to  make  her 


AT   HOME  35 

speech  almost  unintelligible.  We  catch  a 
glimpse  of  her  in  a  time  of  spiritual  renewing 
at  Buckland,  perched  at  recess  on  the  crooked 
limb  of  a  big  beech  tree  behind  the  school- 
house,  recounting  to  those  gathered  about  her 
the  way  of  salvation  as  she  had  learned  it  at 
home.  Not  that  she  had  "  experienced  religion," 
as  the  old  phrase  went.  A  child's  world  reflects 
the  currents  that  move  its  elders,  and  she  was 
young,  with  an  insatiable  curiosity  about  life 
and  a  facile  gift  of  phrasing  her  discoveries. 
Everything  proved  food  to  her  appetite;  she 
fed  as  hungrily  on  unlettered  learning  as  on  the 
lore  that  is  coldly  stored  in  books.  Her  interest 
in  the  common  crafts  of  men  is  oftener  found 
in  boys  than  girls.  During  her  teens  the  first 
brick  house  was  built  in  Buckland.  The  son 
of  the  builder  and  owner  has  recorded  that  she 
would  come  often  to  the  yard,  and  telling  him 
that  she  wished  to  learn  to  make  brick,  would 
help  turn  them  up,  load  them  on  the  wheel- 
barrow, and  later  put  them  in  the  hake. 

With  all  the  other  things  that  she  learned, 
she  did  not  learn  to  play.  It  was  an  accom- 
plishment which  from  abuse  had  in  her  youth 


36     THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

fallen  into  disrepute.  Play,  as  a  few  moderns 
practice  it,  a  relaxation  that  is  a  recreation, 
was  a  sealed  art.  A  high  seriousness  held  New 
England.  It  took  even  its  pleasures  in  the  path 
of  duty.  Busy  battling  with  beasts  and  men, 
throwing  up  defenses  against  the  wilderness, 
debating  theological  outposts,  had  left  it  scant 
time  and  less  inclination  for  amusement.  When 
a  moment  off  guard  costs  dear,  one  does  not 
practice  irresponsibility. 

Yet  with  all  its  austerity  of  outline,  the  New 
England  that  held  the  child  Mary  Lyon  in  its 
toil-worn  arms  possessed  a  noble  loveliness. 
She  was  bred  on  beauty,  not  of  man-made 
things,  but  of  nature  and  of  soul.  Her  sensitive 
little  heart  drank  it  in  unconsciously ;  only  in 
looking  back  did  she  understand.  Out  of  the 
eyes  of  the  men  and  women  of  her  childhood 
acquaintance  looked  the  sincerity  that  comes 
of  facing  high  verities.  They  walked,  their  feet 
in  the  furrows,  their  heads  among  the  stars. 
Beliefs  were  to  them  what  houses  and  lands, 
stocks  and  bonds,  are  to  their  descendants, 
tangible  possessions.  By  them  they  took  hold 
on  Heaven  and  swung  it  close  to  Earth,  until 


AT  HOME  37 

this  life  became  but  its  antechamber.  Ideals 
were  their  only  luxury.  As  the  Greeks  loved 
beauty,  old  New  England  loved  right.  Duty 
was  its  ecstasy.  A  cold  passion  ?  Let  none  who 
have  not  bowed  at  that  shrine  deny  warmth 
to  its  votaries.  For  duty  done  for  love  grows 
lovely  and  clothes  its  worshipers  in  noble  lines. 

About  the  child  the  world  moved  to  high  and 
stately  music.  Persons  of  distinction  came  and 
went,  men  and  women  whose  "lives  went  by 
their  consciences  as  their  clocks  went  by  the 
sun."  The  cool-colored  New  England  Sab- 
bath wrapped  her  from  sundown  to  sundown 
in  mighty  thoughts.  Want,  walking  gracefully, 
smiled  at  her.  Generosity  grew  up  beside  her. 
Her  mother,  vigorous,  thrifty,  wealthy  only  in 
love  and  helpfulness,  broke  for  her  the  bread 
of  life. 

Before  her  the  year  unrolled  its  glories.  The 
pageant  of  the  seasons  passed  across  the  hills : 
spring  veiled  itself  in  a  translucent  mist  of  pro- 
mise; summer  reveled  in  jubilant  fulfillment; 
autumn's  wildfire  torched  the  slopes  to  flame ; 
winter  glittered  in  frozen  white  against  the  blue. 
Always  she  loved  wild  and  lovely  sights  better 


38     THE   LIFE  OF   MARY  LYON 

for  this  early  initiation  into  the  mysteries  of 
beauty.  The  mountains  were  her  first  teachers. 
From  them  she  stored  up  power  as  simply  as 
she  drank  energy  from  the  soil.  They  grounded 
her  in  the  laws  of  perspective.  She  had  a  gift 
for  salient  facts,  and  "on  the  whole"  grew  to  be 
a  favorite  phrase  of  hers.  They  taught  her  the 
worth  of  noiseless  work,  seeing  to  it  that  she 
never  mistook  clamor  for  force.  The  quiet 
undeviating  round  of  the  seasons  gave  her  pa- 
tience; she  caught  the  secret  of  waiting  fret- 
lessly  for  the  forces  of  God  to  act.  They  did 
miracles  that  no  eye  might  see,  and  Mary 
Lyon  never  required  a  human  audience.  Not 
that  she  knew  what  was  happening  to  her ;  un- 
conscious learning  goes  deepest.  The  hills  fed 
her  imagination.  What  lay  beyond  their  far- 
thest peaks  ?  Nay,  what  lay  between  ?  She 
could  not  know  it,  but  almost  they  spanned 
her  life.  And  ever  they  held  out  their  invita- 
tion. Some  day  in  the  fulness  of  time  she 
would  make  answer. 


CHAPTER  III 

AT   SCHOOL 

FOR  a  person  of  enterprise  and  energy  the 
early  nineteenth  century  in  America  was  un- 
questionably a  time  to  be  young.  The  United 
States  found  itself  in  the  position  of  a  man  who, 
having  secured  the  title  to  his  homestead  and  be- 
gun housekeeping  in  a  small  way,  looks  about 
for  further  furnishings.  The  values  of  the  situa- 
tion inhered  quite  as  much  in  its  deficiencies 
as  in  its  possessions.  Yet  hitherto  people  of 
foresight  had  usually  seen  to  it  that  they  were 
born  boys.  A  boy,  within  the  scope  of  his  abil- 
ity, promoted  speculation;  he  might  become 
almost  anything.  A  girl  was  obviously  intended 
for  a  home-maker  and  her  preparation  included 
little  study ;  nature  has  been  at  some  pains  to 
teach  humanity  to  avoid  superfluous  things. 

Seventeenth-century  Dr.  Thomas  Fuller,  in 
his  "Church  History  of  Britain,"  briefly  dis- 
cusses the  "conveniency  of  she-colleges." 


40     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

"  Nunneries  also  were  good  she-schools  where- 
in the  girls  and  maids  of  the  neighbourhood 
were  taught  to  read  and  work ;  and  sometimes 
a  little  Latin  was  taught  them  therein."  But 
nunneries  had  gone  out  of  fashion  in  Protes- 
tant Britain ;  and  as  even  a  limited  knowledge 
of  the  classics  appeared  unnecessary  in  house- 
wives, the  thrifty  founders  of  this  country  did 
not  propose  to  give  it  to  them.  Thereby  they 
made  no  unkind  distinction  in  intellect;  they 
believed  in  learning  for  a  boy  only  when  he 
meant  to  use  it.  Harvard  was  established  be- 
cause, as  the  Massachusetts  settlers  quaintly 
phrased  it,  they  "  dreaded  to  leave  an  illiterate 
ministry  to  the  churches  when  our  present  min- 
istry shall  lie  in  the  dust."  Their  point  of  view 
coincides  with  that  of  many  people  who  queried 
two  hundred  years  later,  "  When  girls  become 
scholars,  who  is  to  make  puddings  and  pies  ?" 
The  idea  of  a  woman  preacher,  lawyer,  or 
teacher  of  anything  less  simple  than  the  A  B  C's 
never  having  occurred  to  either  Puritans  or  Cav- 
aliers, it  was  quite  as  foreign  to  their  thought 
that  a  girl  should  care  to  go  to  college.  Educa- 
tion, moreover,  was  an  expensive  utility.  In 


AT  SCHOOL  41 

New  England,  where  most  was  publicly  made 
of  it,  a  town  often  had  more  than  it  could  con- 
veniently do  to  furnish  its  boys  with  the  supply 
of  knowledge  that  the  law  required.  The  dame 
school  with  its  horn-book  and  primer  sufficed 
for  girls.  Inability  to  write  her  name  did  not 
impugn  a  woman's  gentility ;  many  ladies  of  the 
Revolution  made  their  mark.  A  few  fashion- 
able schools  prolonged  a  rich  girl's  education, 
but  in  most  of  them  the  graces  crowded  out 
solidity  and  even  sense.  An  exception  appears 
in  the  history-flavored  Moravian  Seminary 
at  Bethlehem,  Pennsylvania.  With  something 
more  than  French,  painting,  and  manners,  it 
schooled  the  gay  colonials  and  the  belles  and 
beauties  of  the  young  republic ;  their  names  run 
the  polyglot  gamut  of  its  population.  In  the 
South  girls  more  often  stayed  at  home,  some- 
times studying  with  their  brothers'  tutor  and 
putting  on  polish  by  a  trip  to  Europe. 

Not  that  there  were  then  no  blue-stockings, 
but  they  —  as  until  lately  learned  women  have 
been,  history  through  —  were  exotics.  More 
than  a  decade  before  the  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century  Lucinda  Foot  in  Connecticut  prepared 


with  her  brothers  for  Yale,  and  after  exami- 
nation received  at  twelve  a  Latin  certificate 
from  President  Stiles  containing  his  pronounce- 
ment that1  "she  is  fully  qualified,  except  in 
regard  to  sex,  to  be  received  as  a  pupil  of  the 
freshman  class  in  Yale  University."  Later  she 
studied  the  full  college  course,  and,  with  Presi- 
dent Stiles  for  a  tutor,  learned  Hebrew.  The 
sisters  of  Jonathan  Edwards  read  Greek  and 
Latin  in  their  father's  study.  So  did  other  New 
England  girls. 

Yet  Maria  Edgeworth' swords, written  about 
the  year  that  Mary  Lyon  was  born,  express 
the  practice  of  America  equally  with  that  of 
England  and  the  continent:  "From  the  study 
of  the  learned  languages  women,  by  custom, 
fortunately  for  them,  are  exempted."  Defoe's 
academy  remained  a  project  only  of  ink  and 
paper:  "To  such  whose  genius  would  lead 
them  to  it  I  would  deny  no  sort  of  learning." 
In  Scotland  Mary  Somerville  studied  in  secret 
lest  she  should  be  thought  unsexed  by  science. 
No  European  country  granted  equal  educa- 

1  "Testorque  omnino  illam,  nisi  Sextis  ratione,  idoneam  ut  in 
Classem  Recentium  in  Universitate  Yalensi  Alumna  admitteretur." 


AT  SCHOOL  43 

tional  facilities  to  boys  and  girls.  The  earth 
belonged  to  men.  For  them  it  had  been  created ; 
women  came  on  the  scene  as  a  pleasant  and  in- 
deed a  necessary  afterthought.  The  ages  had 
built  a  wall  about  them,  shutting  off  the  world's 
activities.  By  stealth  or  with  some  friendly 
help  from  the  other  side  a  few  had  always  man- 
aged to  climb  over  and  eat  of  the  tree  of  know- 
ledge, but  the  wall  still  held.  Toward  the  end 
of  the  century  two  bombs  exploded  near  this 
barrier;  it  did  not  stand  so  stoutly  afterward. 

The  war  for  independence  in  America  was 
an  experience  from  which  the  people  concerned 
never  recovered  sufficiently  to  be  quite  certain 
that  what  had  been  must  continue  f  orevermore. 
Their  faith  in  precedent  had  met  a  shock.  The 
other  bomb  was  the  invention  of  machinery. 
It  drew  women  out  of  their  world-old  setting 
and  thrust  them  into  new  relations.  After 
people  had  grown  wonted  to  seeing  them  do 
familiar  work  in  a  strange  place  and  in  a 
strange  way,  they  were  less  fearful  of  the  dan- 
gers incident  to  further  scene-shifting. 

When  one  woman  could  accomplish  what  it 
had  taken  more  than  one  to  do  before,  the 


44     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

others,  of  necessity,  cast  about  for  something 
fresh.  They  hit  on  school-teaching.  In  all  but 
the  most  rudimentary  form  it  had  been  hitherto 
a  manly  enterprise ;  but  as  life  in  the  new  land 
gained  security  and  homes  pushed  further  from 
sheltering  villages,  fortune,  in  shifting  the  edu- 
cational base  from  town  to  district,  gave  men 
much  more  of  it  than  they  cared  to  handle, 
and  they  promptly  relinquished  the  part  least 
remunerative.  While  the  farms  kept  busy  the 
larger  boys  and  the  young  men,  neighborhood 
schools  were  taught  by  women.  In  winter  the 
colleges  flooded  the  country  with  muscular  un- 
dergraduates eager  to  replenish  their  purses, 
—  until  far  into  the  nineteenth  century  many 
colleges  arranged  their  calendars  to  include  a 
long  school-keeping  winter  vacation.  It  fur- 
nished an  experimental  course  that  supple- 
mented richly  the  classic  humanities. 

But  women's  capital  was  meagre  even  for 
the  small  summer  venture,  and  their  desire  for 
more  knowledge,  coupled  at  last  with  their  abil- 
ity to  use  it,  won  for  them  their  opportunity. 
Reverend  Timothy  D wight's  coeducational 
experiment  at  Greenfield  Hill,  William  Wood- 


AT   SCHOOL  45 

bridge's  New  Haven  school  for  girls,  ventures 
by  Yale  students,  Philadelphia's  academy,  the 
beginning  of  Miss  Pierce's  Litchfield  School, 
and  other  sporadic  attempts  in  the  last  decades 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  offered  a  few  of  them 
a  welcome  chance  at  more  liberal  learning. 
While  these  private  advances  were  in  making, 
the  pressure  of  demand  gradually  broke  down 
the  door  of  public  schools.  In  1790  Gloucester 
decided  that  "  Females  .  .  .  are  a  tender  and 
interesting  branch  of  the  Community  but  have 
been  much  neglected  in  the  Public  schools  in 
this  Town."  Other  towns  sooner  or  later  ar- 
rived at  Gloucester's  point  of  view. 

Odd  hours  were  first  allotted  to  girls'  instruc- 
tion, —  intermediary  scraps  of  time,  noonings, 
the  left-overs  from  the  more  important  job  to 
be  performed  on  boys.  Now  girls  no  longer  sat 
on  the  steps  of  the  schoolhouse  to  which  their 
brothers  had  dragged  halting  feet,  and  ab- 
sorbed the  third  "R,"  as  it  were  from  the  at- 
mosphere, while  the  arithmetic  lesson  floated 
through  open  windows  from  stumbling  recita- 
tions. Insistent  pecking  at  the  fallen  crumbs 
of  knowledge  had  conquered.  If  it  had  come 


46     THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

more  easily,  would  they,  after  all,  have  cared 
so  much  ? 

Academies,  those  nurseries  of  general  cul- 
ture, that  in  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century  had  started  to  the  relief  of  a  decadent 
learning,  began  to  admit  girls.  Soon,  over  New 
England  and  its  environs,  new  academies 
sprang  up,  offering  education  to  all  young  peo- 
ple on  equal  terms.  From  these  the  older  gen- 
eration of  our  own  time  drew  its  intellectual 
life.  The  boys  they  either  fitted  for  college  or 
passed  on  with  liberal  interests  into  the  less  ex- 
acting professions  and  the  trades ;  to  the  girls 
they  gave  the  assets  that  made  school-teachers. 

On  this  situation  fell  Mary  Lyon's  youth. 
An  old  profession  was  enlarging  its  borders, 
accommodating  itself  to  deal  with  new  mate- 
rial and  to  employ  new  services.  In  pay  it  gave 
little  beyond  a  frugal  livelihood ;  its  intellectual 
refreshments  were  meagre.  Its  glory  lay  in  its 
possibilities.  As  yet  an  inchoate  thing,  —  this 
education  of  girls,  —  a  scanty  affair  of  memory 
and  book,  it  awaited  the  hands  of  its  exploit- 
ers. Its  aims,  methods,  ideals,  were  yet  to  be 
announced.  Persons  of  creative  force  might  do 


AT   SCHOOL  47 

with  it  what  they  would.  One  accomplishment 
it  had  already  made :  a  girl's  schooling  was  be- 
come of  some  small  public  interest.  Ajar  be- 
fore her  stood  the  door  that  led  to  knowledge. 
Through  this  crack  Mary  Lyon  pushed  curi- 
ously ;  it  widened  to  admit  her,  and  she,  passing 
on,  left  the  way  more  open  behind  her. 

She  did  not  drink  decorously  of  the  wells  of 
learning,  she  was  too  thirsty  for  that.  Their 
refreshment  she  took  in  gulps,  and  all  too  soon 
they  showed  a  dry  bottom.  How  could  it  fare 
otherwise  with  one  of  whom  a  teacher  has  tes- 
tified that  in  four  days  she  devoured  all  that 
scholars  were  wont  to  learn  of  Alexander's  Eng- 
lish Grammar,  and  poured  it  forth  at  a  sin- 
gle lengthy  recitation  ?  Her  progress  through 
arithmetic  was  equally  swift;  her  trenchant 
brain  cut  to  the  heart  of  an  operation  and  mas- 
tered its  reason  quickly.  In  all  this  it  must  be 
admitted  that,  whatever  other  qualities  she 
showed,  she  did  not  show  discretion.  The  wells 
were  not  sunk  very  deep  in  country  districts. 

So  thoroughly  alive  was  she  that,  unlike 
many  children,  she  found  it  no  more  of  a  task 
to  use  her  mind  than  her  legs.  With  the 


48     THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

same  joyous  zest  she  entered  into  both  activi- 
ties. Given  a  book,  it  seemed  as  impossible  for 
her  to  stop  short  of  its  finish  as  to  halt  half-way 
up  Putnam  Hill.  "  I  should  like  to  see  what  she 
would  make  if  she  could  be  sent  to  college," 
said  one  of  her  teachers. 

But  no  college  admitted  girls,  and  she  did  not 
have  money  to  go  away  to  school.  When  the 
educational  means  of  her  home  and  of  the  town 
neared  exhaustion  she  set  to  work  to  earn.  In 
1810  her  mother  married  and  went  to  live  in- 
side the  lines  of  Ashfield,  taking  with  her  the 
younger  sisters;  the  three  oldest  were  already 
wives.  For  a  year  Mary  kept  house  for  her 
brother  and  he  paid  her  a  dollar  a  week  to  in- 
crease her  fund.  After  his  marriage  she  still 
made  her  home  with  him,  romping  with  the 
merry  babies  that  came  to  the  hillside,  a  doting 
aunt.  Spinning  and  weaving  added  to  her  re- 
sources. She  began  to  teach,  receiving  in  her 
first  position  seventy-five  cents  a  week  and 
board,  a  price  then  not  uncommon.  By  such 
resorts  her  store  grew  slowly.  Now  and  then 
she  took  a  term  at  school. 

When  she  was  nineteen,  Reverend   Alvan 


AT   SCHOOL  49 

Sanderson  founded  an  academy  in  the  thrifty 
village  of  Ashfield.  A  Williams  College  gradu- 
ate, dying  on  his  feet,  he  put  his  final  efforts 
and  a  part  of  his  small  fortune  where  he  thought 
they  would  count  for  most,  into  an  institution 
that  should  give  to  the  ambitious  young  people 
of  the  Franklin  County  hills  what  the  public 
schools  denied  them.  The  experiment  of  start- 
ing a  school  dependent  for  support  on  the  pay- 
ment of  tuition  met  in  many  of  the  Ashfield 
villagers  caution  and  distrust,  and  even  Mr. 
Sanderson's  relatives  withheld  encouragement. 
In  this  dearth  of  sympathy  he  turned  to  two 
people  who  from  the  first  accorded  him  cordial 
help.  "Thomas  White,  Gentleman,"  as  Mr. 
Sanderson's  will  denominated  one  of  the  trustees 
of  the  school,  justice  of  the  peace  and  at  times 
the  town's  representative  in  the  legislature, 
shared  the  expense  of  fitting  up  the  building; 
and  when  village  prejudice  shut  many  doors 
against  students  from  a  distance,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
White  at  great  personal  inconvenience  opened 
their  own  home. 

Here  in  1817  came  Mary  Lyon  in  a  blue 
homespun  gown  with  running  strings  at  neck 


50     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

and  waist,  crude,  awkward  in  gait,  fresh  from 
the  untutored  hills.  The  scholars  looked  at  her 
with  laughter  on  their  lips.  But  she  soon 
ceased  to  appear  to  them  a  joke.  It  is  not  easy 
long  to  feel  superior  to  a  person  of  whom  one 
cannot  keep  within  reciting  distance.  When 
she  had  been  given  study  after  study  to  hold 
her  to  the  more  deliberate  pace  of  her  regular 
classes,  on  a  Friday  afternoon  as  she  was  start- 
ing for  home  the  principal  handed  her  Adams's 
Latin  Grammar,  the  accepted  pabulum  of  the 
incipient  classicist  in  the  days  when  a  beginner 
was  hurled  head-first  at  a  language  and  left  with- 
out the  aid  of  introductions  to  make  acquaint- 
ance. He  assigned  the  first  lesson  and  told  her 
to  omit  her  extra  studies  while  at  work  upon 
it,  congratulating  himself  upon  having  at  last 
found  a  clog  to  her  energy.  On  Monday  she 
returned  to  school,  and  that  afternoon,  in  the 
large  room  where  all  the  enterprises  of  the 
academy  went  forward,  occurred  the  recitation 
of  which  Ashfield  long  talked.  Called  early  in 
the  session  to  take  her  place  on  the  central 
bench  where  students  sat  to  recite,  her  prompt 
answers  soon  roused  general  attention.  Schol- 


AT   SCHOOL  51 

ars  let  fall  their  books  to  listen,  leaning  forward 
in  amazement  and  admiration,  while,  as  the  sun 
dropped  down  the  sky  and  behind  the  hills, 
Mary  Lyon  went  through  the  Latin  Grammar. 
Scarcely  a  slip  she  made,  — her  tongue  twist- 
ing swiftly  through  labyrinthine  windings  of 
declensions  and  conjugations,  her  face  intent, 
her  hands  absently  weaving  her  handkerchief 
through  her  fingers  as  she  talked. 

"How  did  you  ever  do  it  ?"  asked  her  seat- 
mate  afterward.  "  How  could  your  head  hold 
it  all  in  so  short  a  time  ?" 

And  Mary  confessed  that  she  had  studied 
all  Sunday. 

Questioned  in  later  years  about  the  episode, 
she  said :  "  Oh,  it.  was  at  one  of  those  schools 
where  they  do  nothing  but  study  and  recite. 
.  .  .  You  just  learned  what  was  in  the  book. 
I  traced  out  the  likenesses  and  differences 
among  the  declensions  and  conjugations  and 
could  commit  anything  to  memory  quick,  when 
I  was  young.  And  as  to  the  rules  of  syntax,  they 
are  so  much  like  those  in  English  grammar  that 
it  did  not  take  long  to  learn  them.  So  you  see, 
it  was  no  great  feat  after  all." 


52     THE   LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

Her  lightning  method  of  disposing  of  a  sub- 
ject became  the  wondering  pride  of  her  school- 
fellows. She  brought  to  such  exploits  an  un- 
crowded  mind;  being  large  and  sparsely  fur- 
nished, it  dispensed  a  spacious  hospitality,  and 
she  had  to  a  remarkable  degree  the  ability  to 
concentrate  her  attention  at  a  given  point. 
This  perfect  focus  resulted  in  a  sort  of  bodily 
transference  of  a  study  from  the  book  to  her 
brain,  a  kind  of  mental  photography  in  three 
dimensions  procured  by  a  short  time  exposure. 

Skimming  was  not  to  her  taste,  nor  did  she 
ever  trust  to  superficial  acquaintance.  Except- 
ing such  a  gambol  as  this  with  the  Latin  gram* 
mar,  hers  cannot  be  called  mere  rote  learning, 
;'  You  know  I  always  found  difficulties,  doubts, 
and  inconsistencies  in  grammar,"  she  told  her 
sister  four  years  later,  showing  that  she  had 
long  before  begun  to  think  between  the  lines. 
But  there  was  no  magic  about  her  proficiency  j 
when  she  studied,  she  was  all  there  all  the  time, 
and  the  ability  to  use  herself  as  a  whole  formed, 
as  well,  one  of  her  greatest  social  and  executive 
assets.  It  preserved  her  impressions.  Her 
memory  held  names  and  faces  as  indelibly 


AT  SCHOOL  53 

as  facts.  "No  one  could  study  like  Mary 
Lyon  and  no  one  could  clean  the  school-room 
with  such  despatch,"  said  a  fellow  student. 

While  her  intellect  was  capturing  their  im- 
aginations, her  likableness  was  winning  the 
hearts  of  her  schoolmates.  Amanda  White, 
the  Squire's  graceful  brown-haired  daughter, 
was  attracted  at  sight.  Long  afterward  she 
wrote :  "  I  loved  her  from  my  first  acquaintance, 
and  felt  that  her  heart  was  made  for  friendship 
ere  I  had  been  one  half-hour  in  her  society. 
We  accidentally  fell  in  company  when  she  first 
became  a  pupil  in  the  Academy  at  Ashfield,  as 
we  were  returning  from  church,  where  we  had 
attended  a  lecture.  We  needed  no  formal  intro- 
duction. Her  frank,  open  countenance  invited 
confidence,  and  a  mutual  feeling  of  interest  was 
at  once  awakened.  We  chatted  upon  various 
subjects,  and  on  learning  that  I  was  expecting 
to  enter  the  school  also,  she  requested  me  to 
take  a  seat  with  her.  I  did,  and  pursued  the 
same  branches  so  far  as  I  could  keep  up."  So 
began  Mary  Lyon's  dearest  girl  friendship. 

It  is  not  recorded  that  anybody  who  ever 
knew  her  disliked  her.  Before  acquaintance 


54     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

prejudice  fell  away.  And  who  could  help  liking 
this  breezy  school-girl,  with  the  sparkling  eyes, 
clear  rosy  skin,  and  wealth  of  short  burnished 
curls,  the  kindly  voice,  and  willing  ways,  who, 
as  Amanda  continued,  was  "ever  ready  to  lay 
aside  her  books  and  lend  a  helping  hand  to 
those  of  weaker  intellect  ?  Though  nearly  thirty 
years  have  passed  I  seem  now  to  see  her  cheer- 
ful laughing  face  turned  upon  me  as  I  pre- 
sented some  Gordian  knot  in  my  studies  for 
her  to  unravel." 

Her  mind  never  seemed  to  tire.  She  stole 
from  sleep  to  learn,  awake,  —  so  said  the 
family  where  she  boarded,  —  on  an  average, 
twenty  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four.  Diffi- 
culties exhilarated  her ;  more  things  to  do  only 
gave  her  more  capacity  for  doing.  "  She  is  all 
intellect,"  people  said  of  her;  "she  does  not 
know  that  she  has  a  body  to  care  for." 

What  she  did  know  was  that  her  time  grew 
short.  Along  the  street  that  in  after  years  edi- 
tors and  scholars,  gentlemen  of  cultured  leisure, 
trod  in  genial  dignity,  beat  the  swift  feet  of  an 
eager  girl.  Hotly  her  days  passed  from  her. 
The  money  so  toilsomely  won  fell  away  even 


AT   SCHOOL  55 

under  the  simplicity  of  her  demands.  All  her 
small  household  store  it  is  said  she  gave  in  ex- 
change for  the  means  of  living  while  she  stud- 
ied. That  first  term  she  paid  for  her  board  with 
two  coverlets,  spun,  dyed,  and  woven  by  her- 
self. 

She  had  reached  the  point  of  leaving  the 
academy  when,  at  the  suggestion  of  "Squire" 
White,  the  trustees  voted  her  free  tuition.  Re- 
port says  that  she  taught  enough  classes  to 
equalize  the  obligation.  It  was  probably  not 
long  after  this  that,  by  invitation  of  the  Squire 
and  his  wife,  she  went  to  live  in  the  big  white 
house  that  stood  midway  of  the  village  street, 
its  open  front  door  framing  in  summer  a 
glimpse  of  further  green.  In  simple  well-bred 
dignity  it  stands  there  still,  with  an  air  of  quiet- 
ness that  only  long  residence  can  give.  It  was 
built  in  the  final  decade  of  the  century  before 
last,  when  Mr.  White  married ;  behind  it  the 
ground  dips  to  an  apple-strewn  meadow,  on 
whose  further  side  a  brook  flows  beside  stately 
elms  of  the  Squire's  planting. 

This  house  became  her  adopted  home.  The 
southeast  windows  in  the  second  story  look  out 


56     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

from  the  chamber  she  shared  with  the  lovely 
Amanda.  A  quaint  brass  knob  lifts  the  latch 
as  one  enters  the  room ;  countless  times  it  has 
turned  under  the  hand  of  Mary  Lyon.  For 
here,  after  school-days  were  long  done,  she 
came  often,  as  to  a  place  where  she  belonged, 
and  always  she  held  it  in  her  heart,  as  it  in 
turn  held  her. 

In  this  home  she  first  made  acquaintance 
with  the  amenities  of  living.  Delicate  high- 
bred Mrs.  White  and  the  genial  Squire  ordered 
life  in  a  manner  she  had  not  known.  Genera- 
tions of  gentlefolk  lay  behind  them.  It  is  not 
the  mere  doing  of  a  thing  that  counts,  she 
discovered,  but  how  it  is  done.  She  came  to 
Ashfield  oblivious  to  much  that  would  have 
troubled  many  girls ;  so  intent  was  she  on  her 
purpose  that  she  did  not  see  her  crudities.  In- 
deed, it  was  never  her  habit  to  compare  her- 
self with  people.  But  at  those  infrequent  mo- 
ments when  she  did  slip  into  introspection,  all 
her  life,  as  is  often  the  way  with  attractive  per- 
sons, she  underrated  her  own  charm. 

When  she  went  to  live  at  Mr.  White's,  she 
acknowledged  that  she  needed  help  at  many 


AT   SCHOOL  57 

points.  It  is  still  told  in  the  family  that  she 
learned  new  ways  with  wonderful  rapidity.  Her 
awkwardnesses  began  to  slip  away  under  the 
Squire's  kindly  mimicry,  —  only  he  could  do 
it,  —  taking  her  into  a  room  by  herself  and 
showing  her  how  she  looked  to  others.  She 
grew  more  heedful  of  her  dress ;  Amanda  saw 
to  this.  That  faculty  of  hers  for  concentration 
worked  against  anything  that  had  the  ill-fortune 
to  be  unable  to  secure  her  attention.  She  could 
be  intensely  absent-minded  when  uninterested, 
and  she  was  always  oblivious  of  her  clothes. 
"Oh,"  she  once  cried  impulsively  to  a  room- 
mate in  the  years  when  she  held  an  arduous 
executive  position,  "don't  let  me  ever  go  to 
breakfast  without  my  collar!"  Her  friend 
Amanda  has  written  that  when  they  were  away 
at  school  together  she  never  let  Mary  out  of 
her  sight  without  inspection,  "  as  she  was  very 
likely  to  leave  off  some  article  or  put  on  one 
wrong-side-out.  She  was  one  of  the  unfortunate 
ones  whose  wearing  apparel  seemed  doomed  to 
receive  the  contents  of  every  overturned  ink- 
stand or  lamp,  but  she  met  every  such  accident 
with  the  same  good-humor  and  pleasantry  she 


58  THE  LIFE  OF  MARY  LYON 

manifested  on  all  and  every  occasion."  The 
words  call  to  mind  the  plaint  of  the  head  of  a 
small  boarding-school  in  New  York  State  who 
fell  in  company  with  Miss  Lyon  at  a  time  when 
the  latter  was  full  of  her  Holyoke  plans,  too  full 
for  silence.  She  talked  and  all  the  men  present 
gave  her  interested  attention.  "There  were 
spots  on  her  dress,"  announced  the  keen-eyed 
and  immaculate  one  in  grieved  triumph,  "  and 
she  didn't  know  it!" 

Seldom  did  the  small  accessories  of  living 
manage  to  obtrude  themselves  on  her  conscious- 
ness. It  was  no  sketch  of  herself  that  she 
struck  off  when  she  said  of  some  women :  "  It 
seems  as  if  everything  that  belongs  to  them  had 
feet  and  went  to  its  place,  as  soon  as  it  was 
done  with."  Amanda  adds  :  "  I  made  it  a  point 
to  attend  to  the  nameless  little  duties  necessary 
to  our  comfort  [in  the  room],  leaving  for  her 
share  such  as  she  could  not  well  overlook  or 
omit." 

But  to  give  an  impression  that  she  grew  up 
into  a  careless  woman  would  not  be  true.  One 
who  knew  her  well  tells  us  that  in  her  earlier 
teaching  years,  when  "  a  friend,  anxious  that 


AT  SCHOOL  59 

she  should  add  more  of  feminine  grace  to  her 
great  strength  of  mind  and  character,  directed 
her  attention  to  some  small  defect,  she  replied 
with  the  best  humor  in  the  world, '  I  have  cor- 
rected more  such  things  than  anybody  ought  to 
have. ' ' '  For  all  the  help  the  Squire's  household 
gave  her  she  thanked  them  with  beaming  eyes 
and  smiling  face.  Yet  with  aching  hearts  they 
did  it,  as  a  duty  owed  to  the  feeling  Amanda 
has  noted  as  already  upon  them,  "  that  she  was 
fitting  for  some  important  station." 

Here  she  laid  the  foundation  of  a  social  cul- 
ture which  enabled  her  to  pass  among  her  kind 
with  ease  as  well  as  with  innate  cordiality. 
Too  simple  ever  to  become  a  "fine  lady,"  she 
had  no  taste  for  a  husk  of  manners.  People 
interested  her  tremendously,  and  a  country 
training  better  than  any  urban  refinement  fitted 
her  to  mingle  with  all  sorts.  Village  intercourse 
is  very  inclusive;  life  presses  close,  thrusting 
one,  unless  she  turn  hermit,  into  acquaintance 
with  more  than  her  own  order. 

So  it  came  about  that,  although  in  proportion 
to  the  time  spent,  probably  none  ever  carried 
away  more  learning  from  Sanderson  Academy, 


60     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Ashfield's  contribution  to  Mary  Lyon's  devel- 
opment was  not  most  notably  intellectual.  The 
Squire  was  a  Whig  in  politics,  he  took  a  New 
York  paper;  his  neighbor,  Squire  Paine,  im- 
ported his  news  from  Boston.  These  sheets 
supplemented  the  Boston  "Recorder,"  "The 
Panoplist  and  Missionary  Magazine."  The 
Bible  and  commentaries  held  a  central  place 
in  household  interest.  Colleges  did  not  dig- 
nify spoken  languages  by  a  prominent  place 
in  their  curricula,  and  people  who  were  busy 
living  found  little  time  to  read.  She  dated  her 
literary  awakening  later  and  at  another  place. 
Yet  of  all  her  schools  Ashfield  Academy  held 
her  longest,  and  its  genial  influences,  she  de- 
clared at  the  end  of  her  life,  first  roused  her 
mental  energies  and  imparted  an  impulse  that 
never  ceased  to  act.  "  Many  who  would  other- 
wise never  have  had  access  to  anything  worthy 
the  name  of  literary  advantages  received  there 
the  rudiments  of  an  education.  In  that  quiet 
retreat  among  the  hills  the  intellect  was  stirred, 
the  taste  refined,  and  intensity  given  to  the  de- 
sire for  knowledge.  To  mind  and  heart  that 
institution  was  what  the  mountain  airs  are  to 


•-:  tr  ***.»-.<•,**<?--;  r.AT  :•*-'.-:..=>.--     •     -      •  M  «    .':--- 

EXHIBITION. 


» 

VS1IFIELI)  AC  ADEMY. 

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FKHHL'.IRV   IS,   ISIS.  Jpy 

— _ 

ORDER  OF  EXERCISES. 

j& 

i  vci.otK.  r.  .v.  5jy 

•  Ibt.      Pnyer,  by  Rev.  GAMALIELS.  OLDS.  jj^ 
;•     ind.     Salutatory  Oration,  by  SAMUEL  COLTON.  ^^ 
I     Crd.     Dialogue  on  "  Village  Politics,"  by  JOHN  A.  NAS:I,  and  HIRAM  Owrx. 

j     4th.     Oration  on  the  character  of  Aaron  Burr,  by  ELEA/.I:R  \\".  STORRS. 

!     5th.     "Sacred  Drama^"  by  Misses  AMANDA  WHITE,  HANNAH  WHITE,  VIOLBTT    1 
HARWOOD,  and  EMILY  SMITH.   • .  |£ 

|    6th.     Oration  on  the  inspiration  of  man,  by  ELIJAH  .PAINE,  Jufl. 

I     7th.     "  The  Exile," — a  Drama,  by  NATHAN  LOOMIS,  E.  PAINE,  Jun.  S.  COLTON,    | 
E.  W.  STORRS;and  Misses  ESTHER  BI.MENT,  HANNAH  WHITE,  VIOLKTT     |  -^ 
HARWOOD,  HARRIET  SMITH,  POLLY  NEWHALL,  and  Louis  SANDKR.SON. 

3fr 
S3;  -=•  • '  ;"=• 

EVENING. 

£ 

•  8tli.     Prologue  to  "  Christianity  in  India,"  by  LEVI  Cooi:,  Jun. 

"fc     Cth.     Christianity  in  India. — a  Drama,  by  E.  P.»'.NE,  E.  \V.  Sronus,  E.  llou  ti,     :' 

1).    BtLUINC,    S.     BtMtS'T,     II.     O'.VI  V,    S.    CV.I.TON,    E.     MoSTAC'/h,   S.       I. 

GRAVES;  and  Misses  AMAND-V  \VIIITE,  ESTIII.R  BEMI:NT,  MAH.V  LYOJJ,  !•* 

EMILY  SMITH,  LAURY  A.  LUCE,  and  AlnKv  PAINI:. 

••H!     l'  tli.    Prologue,  by  SAMB HI  C:OI/ION.  £* 

4:     1  ltl>.     "  The  Tyranny  of  Custom," — a  Tragedy,  by  E.  PAIXI  ,  E.  \V.  S  roitas,  D.  1? 

ULLUINC.  N.  LooMis.'S.  C'.oi.rox,  and  K.  HOWL-.;  Missc>  ELECTA  HAR-  •* 

^j  WOOD,   .Hill    W-AIT    J.    IS  A II  III    R.  1> 

:$'     12th.     ()r.itiou  on  i!ic  Tjrjny  i.t  Fashion,  by  E.  PAI-.-E:,  Jun.  © 


:.'-  :•  •  .;.•..-.  :,;.-..:.:..-.-.  ;.v  ;  ;  ..;..-..-..;.  •..;.    ,:.  ;..;.  ./.^X- 

>'<*  i'<'v''!'<'-iJ'i'<vi'v^v>'<'-.-vvv-y^<'Yvy't-VvtJ>vvv->vv-  >v  vS-vv  !••>  :•  /  >-^  >'-'-.>'>-» 


AT   SCHOOL  61 

the  physical  powers."  Under  Elijah  Burritt, 
brother  of  "The  Learned  Blacksmith,"  and 
known  to  the  nineteenth  century  as  the  author 
of  "The  Geography  of  the  Heavens,"  she  cal- 
culated eclipses,  and  with  a  fellow  student 
made  an  almanac.  One  of  her  maps  is  extant, 
its  colored  lines  testifying  alike  to  the  nicety 
of  her  workmanship  and  to  the  limited  area 
but  spacious  accommodations  of  the  United 
States  in  that  early  decade.  Geography,  arith- 
metic, logic,  rhetoric,  English  grammar  seem  to 
have  been  her  regular  subjects  during  one  quar- 
ter. Scrutiny  of  an  old  exercise  programme 
yields  her  name  in  the  cast  of  a  school "  drama." 
What  twentieth-century  problem-play  would 
one  not  give  for  a  chance  to  have  seen  "  Chris- 
tianity in  India,"  and  heard  the  dialogue  be- 
tween Mary  Lyon  as  the  mother  and  the  boy 
who  acted  the  infant  in  the  bulrushes! 

During  the  next  few  years  she  studied  as 
opportunity  offered.  Terms  of  teaching  gave 
her  terms  of  learning.  For  improvement  in 
penmanship  she  attended  a  writing- school  in 
Buckland  taught  by  one  Daniel  Forbes,  a  fa- 
mous master  of  the  region,  called  by  the  boys 


for  his  unbirched  yet  effective  discipline  "little 
holy  Daniel."  The  boy  who  showed  her  how  to 
make  brick,  grown  an  old  man,  remembered 
having  seen  her  sitting  behind  a  work-bench  in 
one  of  his  father's  carpenter  shops,  temporarily 
turned  into  a  school-room.  She  took  her  seat 
among  the  scholars  until  they  asked  that  a 
chair  be  placed  for  her  at  the  master's  table. 
Hearing  the  younger  pupils  recite  paid  her  tui- 
tion. The  monotonous  toil  required  to  lay  the 
foundation  of  skill  in  an  art  demanding  in  its 
productions  the  delicate  precision  of  a  steel 
engraving  could  not  have  been  to  her  liking, 
spirited  as  she  was.  But  without  it  no  educa- 
tion was  then  considered  passable,  and  she  had 
the  will  to  hold  herself  to  what  might  prove  dis- 
tasteful. The  school-master  who  has  himself 
set  down  this  account  goes  on  to  tell  how  one 
day  he  gave  her  a  Latin  caption  for  her  copy. 
She  handed  back  her  book,  asking  that  he  write 
it  in  English;  she  would  not  seem  wiser  than 
she  was,  she  said.  Once  she  took  a  little  of  the 
scanty  inheritance  that  was  her  share  of  her 
father's  estate,  and  went  for  a  term  to  Amherst 
Academy,  precursor  of  the  college,  and  one  of 


AT   SCHOOL  63 

the  leading  academies  in  Massachusetts,  where, 
as  an  account  has  it,  "  her  homespun  apparel, 
her  extraordinary  scholarship,  and  her  bound- 
less kindness,  were  about  equally  conspicuous." 
Here  she  plunged  into  the  study  of  chemistry. 
Subsequently,  a  summer  of  teaching  in  Conway 
yielded  her  more  science  under  the  tutelage 
of  Reverend  Edward  Hitchcock,  pastor  of  the 
church  there,  and  trustee  of  Sanderson  Acad- 
emy ;  later,  in  turn  professor  and  president  of 
Amherst  College.  She  made  her  home  in  his 
family,  and  Mrs.  Hitchcock  gave  her  lessons 
in  drawing  and  painting,  for  many  years  yet  to 
be  popularly  held,  with  music,  embroidery,  and 
manners,  as  the  essentials  of  feminine  educa- 
tion. That  she  had  never  been  taught  to  sing 
caused  her  lifelong  regret,  so  dearly  did  she  love 
melody  and  so  strong  grew  her  sense  of  the 
«« practical  importance"  of  vocal  music.  "  I  have 
sometimes  felt,"  she  wrote  in  after  years,  "that 
I  would  have  given  six  months  of  my  time  when 
I  was  under  twenty,  and  defrayed  my  expenses, 
difficult  as  it  was  to  find  time  or  money,  could 
I  have  enjoyed  the  privileges  for  learning  vocal 
music  that  some  of  our  pupils  enjoy." 


Meanwhile,  in  1819,  her  brother  had  moved 
to  western  New  York.  It  almost  broke  her 
heart.  He  was  her  darling,  and  his  babies  with 
tiny  hands  had  woven  an  enchantment  about 
her  life.  To  snap  it  hurt,  and  the  pain  did  not 
dull  for  months.  With  the  home  on  the  hillside 
broken  up,  she  followed  her  sisters  to  her  mo- 
ther's house. 

Before  she  went  —  if  we  may  credit  tradition, 
always  an  uncertain  informant  —  both  the  tall 
angels  of  teaching,  love  as  well  as  religion,  had 
brushed  her  with  folded  wings.  Of  the  latter 
her  word  assures  us.  On  the  way  home  from 
church  she  met  him  of  a  Sabbath  in  the  fields. 
He  was  clothed  in  the  ruddy  beauty  of  the  year, 
and  the  girl  who  had  ever  made  response  to 
loveliness  felt  within  herself  a  sweet  and  joyous 
sense  of  God.  Quaintly  we  are  told  in  one  of 
the  biographies  that  her  intellect  had  always 
approved  God's  government ;  it  had  been  the 
)  theme  of  her  uncle's  morning  and  afternoon 
sermons.  Now,  as  she  walked,  her  whole  being 
seemed  to  open,  flower-like,  toward  the  Giver 
of  the  earth's  life  and  her  own.  She  sought  the 
hills  and  they  ministered  to  her.  That  such 


AT   SCHOOL  65 

should  have  been  her  first  personal  experience 
of  God,  rather  than  some  form  of  the  agonizing 
self-torture  so  prevalent  at  the  time,  is  signifi- 
cant. Happiness  always  lay  at  the  heart  of  her 
faith. 

Love,  so  says  the  story  that  has  passed  from 
mouth  to  mouth,  took  her  by  the  hand,  but  she 
broke  away.  She  had  possibilities  of  more  to 
give,  dimly  she  perhaps  already  felt,  than  any 
man  of  her  home  hills  could  receive.  So  we 
glimpse  her,  driven  by  an  instinct  as  yet  vague 
and  unbodied,  a  restless  mastering  desire,  born 
of  hard  circumstance,  of  starving  appetites  and 
unfed  aptitudes,  that,  whether  or  not  it  had  al- 
ready forced  her  to  forego  the  natural  life  of 
other  girls,  impelled  her  on,  out  into  the  world 
to  seek  her  own. 

She  was  again  at  Ashfield  Academy  when 
Amanda  White  made  plans  to  attend  a  school 
near  Boston  which,  since  its  coeducational  start 
three  years  before,  by  the  simple  device  of  drop- 
ping the  "young  gentlemen,"  had  become  a 
woman's  seminary.  It  is  said  to  have  possessed 
a  unique  reputation  for  the  opportunity  given 
for  advanced  study,  affording  girls  a  chance  at 


66     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

branches  of  learning  which  no  other  school  al- 
lowed them.  The  mere  thought  of  going  to  Mr. 
Emerson's  seminary  at  Byfield  bespoke  a  more 
than  ordinary  thirst  for  knowledge. 

The  story  current  in  the  White  family  re- 
counts how  one  day  Amanda  found  her  friend 
in  tears.  Pressed  for  an  explanation,  Mary  con- 
fessed that  she  too  wanted  to  go  to  Byfield. 

"And  so  you  can!"  cried  Amanda. 

"Oh,  no,  I  cannot." 

"Father  will  find  a  way.   Talk  with  him." 

Mr.  White  proposed  a  loan.  It  would  not  be 
well,  he  said,  to  disturb  her  little  property  then ; 
later  when  she  was  teaching  she  could  repay 
him. 

But  she  might  not  make  a  success  of  teach- 
ing, she  objected. 

It  is  altogether  credible  that  somehow,  be- 
tween her  independent  spirit  and  the  Squire's 
ever-ready  generosity,  the  matter  of  her  going 
was  adjusted.  Together  from  the  room  they 
had  shared  in  the  White  homestead  the  two 
girls  set  off  for  Byfield.  The  stage  route  be- 
tween Boston  and  Albany  ran  through  Ashfield 
village,  but  the  young  adventurers  did  not  go 


AT   SCHOOL  67 

by  coach.  The  Squire  himself  drove  them  with 
their  trunks  in  his  spring  wagon  drawn  by  two 
horses,  the  first  vehicle  of  the  kind  known  in 
that  part  of  the  state  and  an  object  of  admiring 
note  even  in  the  capital. 

The  road  was  long  and  the  goal  in  itself  a  bit 
of  an  audacity.  What  should  young  women 
already  out  of  their  teens  want  of  more  school- 
ing, and  why  should  they  go  for  it  so  far? 
Theirs  would  be  no  easy  intercourse  with  home, 
for  letter-writing  was  a  costly  indulgence.  To 
await  the  convenience  of  some  chance  traveler 
who  would  act  as  private  post  without  charge 
taxed  patience;  to  send  a  single  sheet  by  the 
fast  mail  taxed  purse.  Envelopes  were  un- 
known, and  the  space  required  in  folding  the 
sheet  so  as  to  present  a  clear  surface  for  the 
address  lessened  its  capacity,  while  a  scrap  of 
extra  paper  doubled  the  cost.  In  the  view  of  a 
schoolgirl  away  from  home  in  the  early  twen- 
ties, the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts  ap- 
peared almost  as  commodious  as  does  the 
whole  United  States  to-day. 

Vivaciously  Miss  Lyon  described  that  jour- 
ney to  some  students  at  a  time  when  European 


68      THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

travel  was  still  a  bold  and  infrequent  exer- 
cise :  — 

"You  can  hardly  understand,  young  ladies, 
what  a  great  thing  it  was  to  get  to  Byfield.  It 
was  almost  like  going  to  Europe  now.  Why,  it 
took  us  three  long  days  to  go  from  Ashfield  to 
Byfield.  Good  Esquire  White,  who  was  one  of 
my  fathers,  took  me  in  his  own  carriage  with 
his  daughter.  I  was  really  a  little  homesick  the 
second  night,  when  I  realized  that  I  was  so  far 
from  home.  You  will  laugh,  and  you  may 
laugh,  for  I  am  going  to  tell  you  that  the  next 
day  I  was  very  homesick.  We  lost  our  way  and 
I  did  not  know  as  we  should  ever  find  the  noted 
Byfield,  for  the  good  people  near  Boston  did 
not  seem  to  know  very  well  where  it  was.  And 
can  you  believe  it,  young  ladies,  Miss  White 
and  I  both  cried !  I  cried  just  as  hard  as  I  could ; 
and  I  really  think  that  I  outcried  my  friend 
whose  good  father  smiled  upon  us.  But  we 
found  Byfield,  for  he  did  something  better  than 
weep;  and  when  he  went  back  to  Ashfield  he 
told  our  friends  that  he  had  left  us  in  a  good 
place  and  that  we  could  come  back  the  next 
fall." 


AT  SCHOOL  69 

That  arrival  in  the  spring  dusk,  in  the  quiet 
village  near  Newburyport,  preluded  the  most 
wonderful  summer  of  her  life.  Sooner  or  later 
to  every  keen  young  brain  comes  a  moment 
of  illumination,  an  experience  that  seals  its  in- 
tellectual citizenship.  Often  it  is  from  a  teacher 
that  a  student  learns  more  than  from  books,  at 
whose  quickening  contact  his  mind,  awake  be- 
fore, yet  seems  to  himself  to  shake  off  sleep 
and  look  out  through  withdrawn  curtains  on 
a  world  made  new.  This  happened  to  Mary 
Lyon  when  at  Byfield  she  came  in  touch  with 
Reverend  Joseph  Emerson.  A  man  of  inde- 
pendent reputation  in  his  day,  he  is  now  best 
remembered  as  her  teacher. 

Born  of  a  versatile  New  England  family 
which  related  him  remotely  to  Ralph  Waldo 
Emerson,  —  they  had  the  same  great-grand- 
father,—  he,  too,  had  become  a  minister.  But 
though  ill  health  forced  him  to  desist  from 
preaching  the  millennium  to  a  church  in  Bev- 
erly, it  could  not  divert  his  inclination  to  hasten 
the  coming  of  a  righteous  world.  Initiative  in 
old  New  England  usually  proceeded  from  the 
ministry.  Twenty-one  years  before  the  first 


70     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

normal  school  in  Massachusetts,  Joseph  Em- 
erson opened  his  seminary,  with  the  avowed  in- 
tent of  preparing  women  to  be  more  intelligent 
teachers.  To  his  work  he  brought  Harvard 
scholarship  of  credit  in  a  class  that  had  in- 
cluded Channing  and  Story,  experience  as  a 
popular  and  interest-provoking  tutor  at  Cam- 
bridge and  elsewhere,  wide  reading  occasioned 
by  a  delight  in  literature,  love  of  philosophy, 
and  a  passion  for  system. 

Below  the  what  and  how  he  always  sought 
the  why.  "It  is  thinking,  close  thinking  that 
makes  the  scholar,"  was  his  dictum.  Recita- 
tions were  conducted  by  means  of  topics,  a 
device  said  to  have  originated  with  him.  Follow- 
ing after  Socrates,  he  asked  questions,  search- 
ing, inquisitive  questions,  eliciting  a  combina- 
tion of  fact  with  fact,  discovering  relations.  His 
students  were  led  by  the  order  of  their  studies 
to  perceive  the  apt  quality  of  the  figure  which 
likens  knowledge  to  a  tree,  and  they  developed 
a  nice  sense  of  intellectual  equilibrium  which 
made  them  ever  afterwards  good  climbers. 

His  was  a  broader  recognition  of  values  than 
the  age  encouraged.  But  while  he  believed 


AT  SCHOOL  71 

Latin  and  Greek  had  been  somewhat  over- 
worked educationally,  he  agreed  with  Pesta- 
lozzi  that  the  potent  interplay  of  word  and  idea 
by  which  the  mind  advances  the  ball  of  thought 
down  the  field  is  the  greatest  ground-gainer. 
Therefore,  he  said,  "  The  study  of  language,  at 
least  of  one  language,  is  the  study  of  studies, 
with  which  all  others  are  necessarily  and  most 
intimately  connected."  His  emphasis  on  know- 
ledge of  English  influenced  all  Miss  Lyon's 
later  practice.  A  citation  from  his  remarks  on 
this  point  gives  insight  into  the  conditions 
with  which  as  a  teacher  she  went  forth  to 
grapple.  "Children  and  youth  are  taught 
to  read  what  they  do  not  understand,  to 
spell  what  they  do  not  understand,  to  define 
without  understanding  the  definition,  and  to 
commit  to  memory  the  words  of  Grammar, 
Rhetoric,  Geography,  History,  Philosophy, 
Logic,  etc.,  etc.,  while  scarcely  a  sentence  is 
understood.  In  studying  these  branches  the 
pupil  does  indeed  acquire  ideas  —  ideas  of 
words  both  visible  and  audible,  but  not  of  the 
objects  which  they  signify.  As  it  respects  use- 
ful knowledge  and  the  power  of  recalling  or 


72     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

producing  practical  thoughts,  his  understand- 
ing remains  almost  wholly  barren  and  void. 
Words,  acquired  in  this  parrot-like  manner, 
cannot  be  intelligibly  used  and  are  but  lumber 
in  the  mind." 

As  a  natural  corollary  of  his  stress  on  the 
language  he  led  students  to  read  English  lit- 
erature ;  not  the  romanticists,  —  contemporary 
letters  are  seldom  taught  in  the  schools,  —  but 
Pope,  Thomson,  Gray,  Cowper,  Goldsmith, 
Young.  Milton's  verse  beat  in  long  majestic 
waves  against  their  ears.  No  sign  exists  of  their 
knowing  Shakespeare,  though  their  teacher  did. 
His  history  lectures  were  bird's-eye  glimpses  of 
nations;  introductions  to  Homer,  Greek  phi- 
losophy, ancient  and  modern  conquerors,  the 
orators  of  antiquity  and  of  England;  but  he 
recommended  further  acquaintance,  directing 
with  critical  comment  to  Gibbon,  Hume,  Gold- 
smith and  others.  A  score  of  American  chron- 
iclers were  presented  with  the  words, "  My  dear 
young  friends,  let  not  your  hearts  fail  you  at 
the  sight  of  such  a  formidable  company  of  his- 
torians. .  .  .  Remember  the  study  of  your  own 
history  is  not  a  business  to  be  despatched  in  a 


AT   SCHOOL  73 

few  months."  While  utility,  broadly  interpreted, 
was  his  touchstone  of  the  worth  of  a  study,  - 
society  being  more  in  need,  he  thought,  of  dy- 
namos than  of  encyclopaedias,  —  he  seems  to 
have  denied  gender  to  mental  capacity.  "  Fear- 
lessly pursue  celestial  truth  wherever  the  Word 
and  Spirit  lead,"  he  wrote  a  former  assistant. 
"  Be  not  frightened  at  the  sound  of  Philosophy ! 
Metaphysics!  Speculation!  Human  Reason! 
Logic !  Theory !  System !  Disputation !  These 
can  never  harm  you  so  long  as  you  keep  clear 
of  error  and  sin."  An  odd  chase,  truly,  to  be 
urged  on  a  woman  in  the  early  nineteenth 
century!  But  in  this  inhered  Joseph  Emer- 
son's finest  accomplishment,  —  his  stimulus  to 
unending  alertness.  He  would  appear  to  have 
succeeded  in  getting  out  of  the  minds  of  those 
who  came  under  his  teaching  "that  criminal 
and  stupefying  notion  that  they  knew  enough 
already."  Once  and  for  all  he  disarmed  them 
against  knowledge,  whatever  its  time  or  manner 
of  attack.  "  He  who  is  not  willing  to  be  taught 
by  the  youngest  of  his  pupils  is  not  fit  to  have 
a  pupil,"  he  said. 

His  theories  he  impressed  upon  his  students. 


74     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Education  ought  to  produce  a  vigorous  mind 
in  a  vigorous  body.  The  doctrine  of  ill-health, 
having  served  a  young  lady  well  in  literature, 
had  grown  more  popular  than  ever  in  life.  "  It 
has  been  the  unhappy  mistake  of  some,"  the 
teacher  remarked  in  a  public  lecture, "that  in 
order  to  be  amiable  they  must  be  weak,  in  order 
to  possess  delicacy  of  feeling  their  constitutions 
must  be  sickly."  He  urged  young  women  to 
know  themselves.  "Many  fail  of  accomplish- 
ing what  they  undertake  for  a  want  of  know- 
ledge of  their  own  weakness,  and  many  do  not 
undertake  what  they  might  perform  from  igno- 
rance of  their  own  strength."  Since  the  reason 
for  getting  knowledge  is  to  use  it  and  the  reason 
for  improving  one's  mind  is  the  better  to  use 
knowledge,  without  moral  direction  one  be- 
came, to  Mr.  Emerson's  thought,  at  best  a  dere- 
lict, at  worst  a  ship  manned  by  a  pirate  crew. 
He  declared  frankly  for  Christianity  as  the  only 
safe  pilot,  but  of  small  denominational  differ- 
ences he  made  little.  In  the  Hebrew  Scriptures, 
his  inheritance  from  that  Puritan  theocracy 
which  had  ruled  commonwealths  by  the  Word 
of  Jehovah,  he  found  a  complete  manual  of  life. 


AT   SCHOOL  75 

Unlike  his  fathers,  he  did  not  go  to  it  for  di- 
rect mandates.  Great  thoughts  lend  themselves 
in  every  age  to  new  in-readings,  and  Joseph 
Emerson  administered  Biblical  principles  to 
diet,  exercise,  mental  development,  school  meth- 
ods, and  spiritual  problems  with  an  impartial 
dexterity  a  trifle  disconcerting  to  another  gen- 
eration. He  had  a  gift  for  revivifying  the  past, 
and  to  the  receptive  minds  of  his  students  he 
transmitted  the  recognition  of  the  eternal  un- 
staled  freshness  of  all  human  experience. 

Such  was  the  teacher  who  now  laid  hands 
on  Mary  Lyon.  An  exuberant  nature  like  hers 
gains  much  from  the  touch  of  a  wise  theorist. 
It  steadies,  clarifies,  defines.  Instinctive  grop- 
ing in  the  dark  gives  place  to  a  seeing  stride 
that  carries  a  mind  far.  Mr.  Emerson  revealed 
her  to  herself.  But  though  her  thought  took 
color  from  his,  she  was  too  instinct  with  life  to 
be  warped  into  imitation.  He  recognized  her 
virility.  Better  disciplined  minds  had  come  to 
his  seminary,  —  none,  he  told  his  assistant, 
that  equaled  Mary  Lyon's  in  power. 

To  her  the  school  was  a  revelation,  and  she 
gave  herself  to  it  unreservedly.  Each  day 


76     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

dawned  for  her  a  fresh  adventure.  Amanda 
wrote  home:  "Sister  Mary  is  quite  provoked 
that  I  have  taken  all  the  paper  without  leaving 
her  any  room  to  put  in  a  word.  She  sends  much 
love  to  all.  She  is  gaining  knowledge  by  hand- 
fuls  —  time  with  her  is  too  precious  to  spend 
much  of  it  in  writing  letters."  She  grudged  the 
very  hours  it  took  to  eat.  After  lingering  at 
noon  that  she  might  ask  questions  of  Mr.  Em- 
erson, her  hurrying  feet  brought  her  to  her 
boarding-place,  late  for  dinner  but  bubbling 
over  with  animated  speech.  One  who  was  then 
the  small  son  of  the  household  set  down  his 
recollections  of  this  habit:  "I  remember  Miss 
Lyon  better  than  Miss  White,  probably  because 
she  was  more  demonstrative,  full  of  talk  on  sub- 
jects started  in  school  and  questions  which  my 
father  liked  to  put,  so  that  she  could  hardly 
take  time  to  eat  even  when  she  came  to  the 
table."  She  lived  not  by  bread  and  butter  in 
those  days. 

Time  was  her  fortune.  Long  ago  she  had 
given  up  trying  to  make  more  of  it,  but  always 
she  stretched  her  days  to  their  utmost  grasp. 
The  whole  seven  were  now  pressed  into  the  ser- 


AT  SCHOOL  77 

vice  of  study.  Against  remonstrance  for  mis- 
using Sunday  she  protested  with  honest  vigor. 
To  learn  was  a  debt  owed  to  opportunity,  and 
the  days  were  all  too  few  in  which  to  pay  it. 
She  gave  over  Sunday  study  only  when  a  greater 
good  had  succeeded  in  convincing  her  of  its 
honest  right.  She  had  never  been  averse  to  ren- 
dering to  God  the  things  that  are  God's;  she 
had  only  been  kept  busy  settling  first  other 
claims  which  seemed  more  immediately  press- 
ing. The  decision  to  make  more  room  in  her 
life  for  the  unseen  came  about  through  the  ap- 
pointment of  a  students'  prayer  meeting  for 
those  who  were  Christians.  It  laid  on  her  the 
necessity  of  making  up  her  mind  whether  or 
not  to  go.  After  hard  thought  she  took  time 
from  study  and  attended  the  meeting.  In  after 
weeks,  while  she  added  to  her  intellectual  gains, 
a  feeling  of  spiritual  poverty  grew  upon  her  and 
she  set  herself  to  supply  her  lack,  an  enterprise 
in  which  she  was  characteristically  ready  to 
include  others,  though  signs  indicate  that  it 
was  probably  no  easier  for  her  than  for  other 
healthy  young  people  to  talk  about  her  inner 
experiences. 


In  those  months  at  Byfield  her  life  broad- 
ened, she  gained  poise  and  balance.  Her  na- 
ture was  righting  itself  after  the  gusty  driving 
of  her  first  imperious  youth.  Never  again 
would  she  thoughtlessly  maltreat  her  body  or 
neglect  her  soul  to  favor  her  curious  mind.  To 
the  universe  about  her  she  began  to  return 
more  steadily  a  three-fold  response. 

Of  that  golden  summer  but  three  remem- 
brancers remain.  Two  recall  the  student :  a  note- 
book containing  Mr.  Emerson's  "Concluding 
Instructions,"  devoted  mainly  to  the  subject 
of  argumentation,  and  a  slender  sheaf  of  com- 
positions, —  three  or  four  themes,  the  titles 
of  others,  notes  of  Mr.  Emerson's  criticisms. 
Thoughtful,  deeply  imaginative  in  spots,  with 
here  and  there  foreshadowings  of  a  powerful 
simplicity  of  phrasing,  this  work  bears  the 
stamp  of  its  kind  in  a  certain  generality  of  note, 
due  in  this  case  possibly  as  much  to  the  imper- 
sonal dignity  of  the  subjects  as  to  the  inexperi- 
ence of  the  writer.  The  titles  discover  a  point 
of  view  that  has  quite  vanished  from  the  aca- 
demic world.  English  students  do  not  now 
write  on  the  Goodness  of  God,  the  Value  of  the 


AT   SCHOOL  79 

Bible,  Benevolence,  Cyrus,  Queen  Mary,  Eden. 
Our  youthful  ancestors  were  called  upon  to 
deal  with  remote  and  weighty  matters.  "  Very 
well  drawn"  is  Mr.  Emerson's  comment  on  a 
sketch  of  Cleopatra.  An  epigrammatic  sen- 
tence he  notes  as  indicating  "an  uncommon 
degree  of  ease."  "Was  Caesar  Justified  in 
Crossing  the  Rubicon?"  — favorite  riddle  of 
classic  schoolmasters  —  draws  from  him  the 
inspirational  sentence,  "I  often  think  of  the 
remark  of  one  minister  to  another :  *  If  I  could 
preach  as  well  as  you  I  would  preach  twice  as 
well.'  " 

The  other  memento  is  a  little  handwritten 
book,  found  among  Miss  Lyon's  papers  after 
her  death ;  one  of  those  volumes  of  commemo- 
ration current  within  memory  and  known  to 
the  older  chapters  of  the  school-girl  fraternity 
as  an  album.  Here  friendships  were  put  to 
press.  Their  fragrance  lingers  about  these  yel- 
lowing brown-spotted  pages,  scored  with  ad- 
monitions to  a  suppositively  forgetful  memory, 
and  with  those  sad  foreshadowings  of  death 
which  form  so  pleasant  an  indulgence  in  the 
sunny  immunity  of  youth. 


80      THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

"  Farewell !   Remember  Nancy !  " 

"  Life's  wild  dreams  are  flying  fast, 
Hope's  gay  meteor's  light  is  past," 

wrote  aging  people  in  their  teens  and  twenties. 

To  her  who  was  "made  for  friendship"  all  this 
lugubriousness  spoke,  as  like  solemnities  have 
4one  to  countless  others,  of  young  and  rainbow 
days,  glad  hearts  and  close-linked  purposes. 
Perhaps  sometimes  as  those  days  drew  into  a 
remoter  past,  she  conned  with  a  smile  this  ros- 
ter of  old  school-fellows,  summoning  back  to 
their  melancholy  pennings  remembrance  of  the 
warm  fleshly  hands  that  wrote.  With  most  of 
them  hereafter  she  had  little  acquaintance.  But 
there  is  one  name,  signed  to  a  scriptural  quota- 
tion in  chirography  "faultily  faultless,"  that 
grew  dearer  to  her,  —  "Z.  P.  Grant."  Be- 
tween Mr.  Emerson's  stately  and  ceremonious 
young  assistant  and  the  impetuous  student  from 
the  Franklin  County  hills  developed  a  friend- 
ship that  proved  one  of  the  determining  factors 
of  the  latter' s  life. 

These  parchment-like  pages  represent  an 
educative  force  which  had  long  been  operative 


AT   SCHOOL  81 

on  men  with  or  without  fortune,  but  which  the 
Byfield  seminary  was  among  the  first  to  press 
into  the  common  service  of  women.  Mental 
magnanimity,  a  product  of  the  rubbing  of  new 
against  familiar  scenes,  comes  at  second-hand 
cheaper  and  often  almost  as  effectively  as  by 
travel.  Its  enlargements  are  to  be  had  at  any 
school  draining  a  wide  area;  in  proportion  to 
the  extent  of  territory  at  a  school's  command 
are  the  facets  of  its  point  of  view.  Byfield,  ac- 
cording to  the  catalogue  of  this  particular  year, 
drew  its  students  from  all  but  one  of  the  New 
England  states ;  often  it  gathered  from  a  wider 
sweep.  Amanda  wrote  home  that  Mr.  Emer- 
son "is  of  the  opinion  that  they  [the  *  young 
ladies']  will  profit  more  by  spending  consider- 
able time  in  visiting  and  conversing  with  each 
other  than  to  spend  it  all  in  study."  They 
shared  their  backgrounds.  They  were  still  young 
and  malleable,  despite  the  excess  of  their  years 
over  the  common  schoolgirl  age ;  but  not  all  were 
of  equal  youth.  Mary  told  her  mother  of  the  ad- 
dition to  the  student  body  of  a  minister's  widow 
from  Maine,  apparently  over  thirty ;  a  circum- 
stance that  she  said  "would  be  remarked  as 


82     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

uncommon  in  any  school  but  Mr.  Emerson's." 
In  itself  this  arrival  was  an  enlightening  epi- 
sode. 

That  Mary  Lyon,  in  love  though  she  was 
with  learning,  could  have  lived  untouched  by 
all  this  give  and  take  of  experience  is  impos- 
sible of  conjecture  in  one  with  such  a  human 
gift.  But  her  reply  to  it  remains,  of  necessity, 
conjecture.  So,  too,  does  the  warm  sympathy 
that  one  feels  must  have  bound  her  to  these 
whose  names  are  written  in  her  little  book. 
Together  they  were  fitting  themselves  to  be  of 
use  in  the  world. 

From  her  the  call  to  service  met  a  ready  an- 
swer. Mr.  Emerson  had  but  expressed  an  in- 
stinct of  her  nature  in  crying  out  against  "mere 
book- worms,  literary  misers,"  who  "have  so 
much  to  read  they  have  no  time  to  act." 

Long  afterward  she  turned  a  flashlight  upon 
these  early  years,  and  the  impression  was  pre- 
served in  jerky  fashion  by  the  pen  of  a  note- 
taker.  Fitly  it  stands  at  the  end  of  her  school- 
days. "  In  my  youth  I  had  much  vigor  —  was 
always  aspiring  after  something.  I  called  it 
loving  to  study.  Had  few  to  direct  me  aright. 


AT   SCHOOL  83 

One  teacher  I  shall  always  remember.  He  told 
me  education  was  to  fit  one  to  do  good." 

She  went  out  from  his  presence  committed 
to  the  eternal  quest  of  the  mind.  It  was  not  in 
her  to  become  a  recluse,  even  had  necessity 
relaxed  its  hold  upon  her  fortunes.  She  had 
too  keen  a  taste  for  life  to  sit  at  a  window  with 
a  page  of  print  under  her  hand  and  look  out 
upon  the  world ;  she  must  be  down  in  the  thick 
of  the  street  where  things  happened.  Brim- 
ming over  with  energy,  she  might  be  counted 
on,  if  they  advanced  with  a  lagging  step,  to 
help  them  happen. 


CHAPTER  IV 

TEACHING 

EDUCATION'S  last  word  is  work.  For  when 
necessity  tugs,  a  man  or  woman  stretches  to 
fit  its  measure.  Hence,  the  problem  of  a  wise 
choice  of  occupation  resolves  itself  into  finding 
one's  point  of  greatest  natural  elasticity.  But 
since  many  people  give  equally  well  in  more 
than  one  direction,  inquiry  must  often  shift  to 
the  varying  merits  of  different  kinds  of  work. 
Some  pursuits,  by  drawing  more  vigorously 
than  others  on  the  whole  nature,  afford  a  more 
liberal  education. 

Miss  Lyon  arrived  at  the  opinion  that  a  wo- 
man, "capable  of  teaching  and  having  taught 
well,  [is]  ready  for  any  other  sphere  of  useful- 
ness." The  theory  betrays  itself  so  frankly  as 
one  of  the  ripe  fruits  of  experience  as  to  play  no 
part  among  the  factors  operative  on  her  own 
decision.  Nor  was  she  inevitably  a  teacher, 
except  in  that  broad  sense  in  which  she  said, 


TEACHING  85 

"Teaching  is  really  the  business  of  almost 
every  useful  woman."  Were  she  living  to-day, 
one  cannot  readily  picture  her  a  pedagogue. 
In  any  corner  of  history  she  would  have  done 
the  unexploited  thing.  Liking  for  unworn  ways 
ran  in  her  blood ;  her  eldest  sister  had  taught 
with  repute  in  Buckland.  She  knew  what  it 
meant  to  hunger  and  thirst  after  knowledge, 
and  her  home  had  bred  her  to  generosity. 

Youth's  most  pressing  engagement  is  with 
acquisition,  but  Mary  Lyon  never  cared  to 
keep  it  alone.  Even  in  the  enchanted  days  at 
Byfield  she  wanted  to  share  her  good  things. 
The  son  of  the  family  with  which  she  boarded, 
a  delicate  boy  of  ten  or  twelve  years,  and  much 
of  a  stay-at-home,  wrote  after  the  span  of  a  life- 
time, "I  have  not  wholly  forgotten  some  not 
very  successful  experiments  in  teaching  gram- 
mar which  she  volunteered  upon  myself.  Some 
tears  resulted  from  the  operation,  if  not  much 
learning,  though  she  was  all  patience  and  good- 
nature." 

Seven  years  earlier  her  first  venture  had 
missed  giving  satisfaction.  She  herself  used  to 
say  that  she  failed  in  government.  A  remark 


86     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

of  one  of  her  later  pupils  to  the  effect  that  "  her 
mirthful  tendencies  threatened  her  success  as 
a  teacher"  may  shed  light  on  the  situation. 
Discipline  has  often  made  shipwreck  on  the 
reefs  of  laughter,  and  Mary  Lyon  laughed  so 
easily !  The  next  school  went  better,  but  Buck- 
land  people  told  her  she  would  never  equal  her 
sister.  This  early  unsuccess  led  her  to  doubt 
her  ability,  and  once,  in  a  fit  of  the  blues,  she 
declared  that  she  would  never  teach  again.  But 
ever  the  quenchless  flame  of  her  spirit  burned 
up  anew  and  drove  her  on.  ;<  Teach  till  you 
make  a  success  of  it ! "  she  cried  to  her  Holyoke 
students,  reading  them  the  caption  of  a  chapter 
out  of  her  own  experience. 

To  her,  fresh  from  Mr.  Emerson's  seminary, 
was  offered  the  position  of  assistant  in  Sander- 
son Academy.  No  woman  had  ever  been  con- 
nected with  its  teaching  force,  and  at  the  head 
stood,  as  usual,  a  college  graduate.  "  Try  her,'* 
Mr.  White  urged  the  principal,  who  thought 
that,  like  his  predecessors,  he  needed  a  man's 
aid.  Five  years  later  the  trustees  bluntly 
crossed  precedent  again  and  elected  her  pre- 
ceptress, with  Miss  Hannah  White,  Amanda's 


TEACHING  87 

sister,  to  help  her.  The  attendance  roundly 
attested  her  popularity.  Probably  it  was  not 
a  mixed  school;  the  previous  winter  had  seen 
the  last  of  that  kind  which  she  ever  taught. 
Her  choice  and  her  forte  lay  with  girls. 

Circumstances  led  her  naturally  into  this  ab- 
sorption. Two  years  after  her  first  appointment 
to  Sanderson  Academy,  an  invitation  surprised 
her  to  help  Miss  Zilpah  Grant  the  ensuing 
summer  open  in  a  new  building  at  London- 
derry, now  Derry,  New  Hampshire,  one  of  the 
first  incorporated  academies  in  New  England 
designed  exclusively  for  women.  Desire  said, 
Go!  Gratitude  to  Ashfield  ordered,  Stay!  As 
debate  between  them  ran  high,  the  opportunity 
grew  upon  her  spirit,  a  thing  of  vigorous  possi- 
bilities. She  believed  heartily  in  the  plan  for 
the  new  school,  with  its  promise  of  graded 
study  and  more  time  for  preparation  on  the 
part  of  teachers.  Always  she  liked  to  pull 
good  down  out  of  the  clouds,  and  in  the  end 
she  accepted  the  new  position. 

It  gave  her  that  which  is  of  invaluable  con- 
sequence to  the  future  leader,  the  training  of 
subordination.  Association  with  Zilpah  Grant, 


88     THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

primarily,  like  Joseph  Emerson,  a  theorist, 
filled  out  her  proportions  and  tempered  her  ex- 
uberance. Together  the  two  friends  tried  out 
their  own  and  others'  schemes,  and  these  Miss 
Lyon  tested  further  in  the  hills.  For  Adams 
Academy,  like  many  others  in  that  rigorous 
time  and  climate,  found  it  practicable  to  keep 
its  doors  open  but  half  the  year.  The  warm 
months  she  gave  Miss  Grant;  winter  saw  her 
either  in  Ashfield  or  in  Buckland,  usually 
teaching  the  "select  schools  for  young  ladies" 
that  made  her  famous  beyond  the  county. 

The  two  towns  vied  with  each  other  to  secure 
her  services.  By  climbing  to  the  third  floor  of 
that  first  Buckland  brick  house  to  whose  build- 
ing she  herself  had  lent  a  hand,  the  twentieth- 
century  pilgrim  may  stand  in  one  of  her  school- 
rooms. As  when  she  taught  here,  it  presents  the 
aspect  of  a  barrel-vaulted  hall.  Four  fireplaces, 
one  in  each  corner,  secure  it  plentiful  venti- 
lation ;  at  either  end  light  falls  through  oblong 
windows  topped  by  a  third  of  fan-shaped  glass. 
Board  benches  run  along  the  side  walls ;  in  the 
middle  of  one  opens  the  door  where  the  stairs 
drop  steeply  down.  Inconveniently  remote 


TEACHING  89 

from  the  street,  the  hall  grew  too  small  as  well, 
and  Ashfield  lured  her  back.  For  a  winter  or 
two  the  academy  building  was  given  over  wholly 
to  " young  ladies."  Then  Buckland  fitted  up  a 
new  and  larger  place.  All  the  old  joiners,  so 
goes  the  story,  chipped  in  and  built  Graham's 
hall  "about  as  quick  as  Jonah's  gourd  grew." 

Wherever  she  went  she  drew  girls  from  all 
the  towns  around  and  even  from  beyond  the 
state.  Teachers  came;  fathers  brought  their 
daughters ;  men  interested  in  schools  suggested 
to  their  young  townswomen  that  they  enter 
Miss  Lyon's  and  learn  her  method.  So  effi- 
cient were  the  pupils  she  sent  out  that  commit- 
tee-men were  chosen  in  November  instead  of 
March  that  they  might  engage  her  students ;  and 
attendance  for  a  term  served  a  girl  in  place  of 
a  certificate.  A  teacher  coming  into  the  region 
twenty  years  later  found  the  recollection  of 
those  schools  still  lingering  among  the  hills,  the 
afterglow  of  a  kind  of  pedagogic  golden  age. 

Continually  she  introduced  new  methods. 
She  began  by  substituting  for  the  multiplicity 
of  learning  then  in  vogue  a  few  plain  subjects 
studied  thoroughly.  "  In  teaching  never  intro- 


90     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

duce  studies  which  would  not  be  profitable  to 
the  scholars,  merely  for  the  sake  of  having  the 
school  appear  well,"  she  said.  "Rise  above 
such  things."  Each  succeeding  winter  saw  an 
addition  to  the  branches  taught,  and  soon  an 
assistant,  and  later  two,  became  a  necessity. 
"  What  new  plans  have  you  adopted  ?  New 
books?"  questions  one  of  these  women  in  a 
letter  written  after  but  six  months'  separation. 
"  Make  as  much  effort  to  gain  knowledge  from 
objects  around  us,  from  passing  events,  and 
from  conversation,  as  from  books,"  I  find  in 
the  notes  for  one  of  her  Buckland  talks.  "In 
most  respects  you  will  be  directed  in  your  con- 
duct by  your  own  good  judgment,  as  you  all 
mean  to  do  right  and  all  undoubtedly  can  judge 
well,"  she  told  her  students,  giving  them  a  form 
of  government  whereby  under  her  guidance 
they  voted  the  few  regulations  in  force  over 
their  daily  lives,  and  from  their  own  number 
elected  officers  to  keep  tally  on  their  execution. 
"  Be  faithful,"  she  enjoined,  "not  only  for  your- 
self,  but  that  faithfulness  in  school  may  be  fash- 
ionable." 

She  was  the  first  in  Buckland  to  use  maps  in 


TEACHING  91 

the  study  of  geography.  Another  winter  she 
experimented  with  the  monitorial  system,  then 
fighting  its  way  against  prejudice  to  the  people's 
favor.  In  place  of  a  single  long  recitation  she 
substituted  two  shorter  ones  on  the  same  sub- 
ject, conducting  the  first  herself,  and  leaving 
that  of  the  next  half-day  to  the  monitors  in  their 
small  divisions,  while  she  passed  briskly  from 
group  to  group,  aiding  as  need  called.  "Use 
invention  of  your  own,"  she  told  the  monitors, 
"or  you  will  never  be  good  teachers."  "My 
recitation  is  taken  up  principally  in  general 
questions  and  remarks,"  she  wrote  Miss  Grant. 
The  two  drew  their  inspiration  from  far  fields. 
Years  before  Horace  Mann  made  his  famous 
seventh  report  they  had  investigated  Pestaloz- 
zi's  theories.  A  combination  of  his  method 
with  the  monitorial  scheme  was  made  to  work 
admirably  in  their  joint  school. 

To  system  Miss  Lyon  gave  all  the  praise  for 
her  success  in  the  hills.  Doubtless  the  woman 
had  quite  as  much  to  do  with  it.  In  her  skillful 
hands  the  new  ways  worked,  and  people  came 
to  see  how  she  did  it.  Requests  multiplied  for 
permission  to  spend  half  a  day  observing  in  her 


92     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

school,  and  she,  remembering  the  courteous 
reception  her  own  investigating  spirit  had  met 
in  Boston,  could  not  refuse.  Colonel  Leavitt 
of  Heath,  who  was  devoting  a  winter  to  the 
scrutiny  of  schools,  spent  several  days  in  Ash- 
field,  studying  her  methods.  Alert  herself,  she 
waked  up  her  students.  She  asked  them  ques- 
tions that  made  them  think.  "  What  course 
would  you  take  to  educate  a  girl  from  four  to 
twenty?"  "What  are  the  advantages  of  the 
monitorial  system?  What  its  evils?"  Studies 
developed  unexpected  possibilities.  "  In  all  my 
attempts  to  teach  grammar  I  think  I  can  safely 
say  that  I  never  saw  so  much  lively  interest  in 
the  subject  among  so  many  as  I  now  see  from 
day  to  day,"  she  wrote  Miss  Grant,  apologiz- 
ing in  the  next  sentence  for  her  "  seeming  ego- 
tism." Across  the  span  of  eighty  years  the  Eng- 
lish teacher  may  envy,  but  she  has  no  heart  to 
condemn  this  modest  elation.  One  is  not  wont 
to  think  of  grammar  as  under  any  circum- 
stances lending  itself  to  the  production  of  a 
"lively  interest." 

Lavishly  she  spent  herself  for  her  students. 
Busy  from  morning  till  night,  she  devoted  her 


TEACHING  93 

evenings  one  winter  to  a  class  in  history,  de- 
fending herself  for  giving  so  much  time  to  two 
people  on  the  ground  that  "  it  is  what  I  so  much 
need."  The  episode  aptly  expresses  her  cheer- 
ful habit  of  turning  sober  duties  inside  out, 
and  in  their  rosy  linings  rechristening  them 
opportunities. 

It  is  natural  to  desire  the  whole  of  a  good 
thing,  and  Ashfield  and  Buckland,  forced  to 
share  their  brilliant  young  teacher,  made  an 
attempt  to  secure  a  monopoly  of  her  attention. 
So,  too,  did  Miss  Grant.  Four  years  after  the 
opening  of  Adams  Academy  the  trustees  and 
the  principal,  differing  on  a  point  of  policy  and 
both  equally  stubborn,  agreed  to  dissolve  part- 
nership. Miss  Grant  moved  apparatus,  teach- 
ers, and  many  of  her  pupils  to  an  academy 
in  Ipswich,  Massachusetts,  whose  proprietors, 
against  her  coming,  had  hastened  to  incorpo- 
rate it.  At  the  old  Indian  Agawam,  grown 
a  thrifty  sea-coast  town,  breathing  strange  ori- 
ent odors,  and  easy  of  approach  from  Boston, 
conditions  favored  the  addition  of  a  winter 
session  to  the  school  year,  a  departure  which 
the  principal  justifies  in  a  letter  to  her  favor- 


94     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

ite  helper.  "Most  academies  are  closed  in 
winter,  and  many  wish  to  attend  who  cannot 
devote  their  time  in  the  summer."  She  offered 
her  the  post  of  assistant  principal. 

The  letters  that  traveled  westward  from  Ips- 
wich, "written  with  cold  fingers  but  a  warm 
heart,"  reveal  between  their  restrained  lines  an 
almost  importunate  longing.  Miss  Lyon  found 
herself  in  the  complimentary  but  uncomfort- 
able position  of  being  pulled  hard  at  the  same 
time  in  opposite  directions.  Miss  Grant  wanted 
her  all  the  year  round  at  Ipswich ;  her  towns- 
people wanted  her  all  the  year  round  in  Frank- 
lin County.  Both  incited  ministers,  the  patrons 
of  learning,  to  press  on  her  attention  reasons 
why  she  should  do  as  they  individually  wished. 
Both  assured  her  of  unique  fields  for  doing 
good;  both  advised  her  that  she  hazarded 
health  and  usefulness  by  division  of  energy; 
both  tugged  at  her  heart-strings,  the  one  with 
the  call  of  closest  friendship,  the  other  with 
the  claims  of  early  gratitude  and  home-grown 
bonds. 

The  county  ministers'  association  passed 
resolutions  requesting  her  to  stay,  and,  failing 


TEACHING  95 

to  carry  their  point  unaided,  attempted  to  in- 
duce Miss  Grant  to  move  west.  But  Buck- 
land's  reply  to  the  latter's  argument  in  favor 
of  the  more  abiding  quality  of  Ipswich  Sem- 
inary lacked  authority.  Its  plans  for  a  perma- 
nent school  of  its  own  fell  through,  and  Miss 
Lyon  in  the  winter  of  1829-30  taught  her  last 
in  Franklin  County. 

The  seminary  to  which  in  six  years  of  upbuild- 
ing she  had  grown  indispensable,  and  where, 
nearly  half  the  time  as  acting  principal,  she 
now  wholly  spent  her  abounding  vitality  for 
four  years  more,  was  doing  with  continuity, 
apparatus,  and  a  certain  amount  of  accommo- 
dation, what  with  little  of  this  advantage  she 
had  been  trying  to  accomplish  in  the  hills. 
Derry-Ipswich  was  one  of  those  headlands  that 
within  a  decade  of  each  other  had  taken  form 
out  of  the  chaos  of  feminine  education.  For 
public  opinion,  still  in  its  lightest  mood,  touched 
the  matter  of  women's  schooling.  It  called  for 
extreme  youth  in  the  subject  and  quick  finish 
in  the  process.  While  their  brothers  acquitted 
themselves  as  respectable  citizens,  girls  were 
intellectual  tramps,  seeking  shelter  for  a  term 


or  two  under  one  literary  roof,  then  blithely 
taking  to  the  road  again  to  pause  later,  if  chance 
offered,  at  another.  They  seldom  stopped  to 
form  ties.  In  this  haphazard  fashion,  careless 
of  the  beginnings  and  ends  of  terms,  on  the 
move  as  fortune  and  fancy  favored,  they  made 
acquisition  of  parlor  tricks  that  after  marriage 
were  generally  sloughed  off  as  precipitately  as 
they  had  been  taken  on.  An  ability  to  sing  lan- 
guishing airs,  tinkle  piano-keys,  lisp  French 
phrases,  and  sketch  impossible  landscapes,  the 
conventional  stock  in  trade  of  the  youthful 
spinster,  betrayed  likeness  to  a  mirage;  it  af- 
forded an  airy  spectacle  having  no  connection 
with  terra  firma.  By  the  real  emergencies  of 
life  a  girl  and  her  education  were  soon  parted. 
A  few  wise  women,  acting  independently,  set 
themselves  to  break  up  these  habits  of  vagrancy 
and  to  give  a  girl  something  worth  keeping. 
Among  them,  Mrs.  Willard,  successively  at 
Middlebury,  Vermont,  and  Waterford  and 
Troy,  New  York ;  Miss  Beecher  at  Hartford, 
Connecticut;  Miss  Grant  and  Miss  Lyon  at 
Derry  and  Ipswich,  deserted  the  fashionable 
sands  to  build  on  the  rock  of  self-respect.  They 


TEACHING  97 

had  to  draft  their  own  plans ;  the  thing  that  was 
in  their  minds  had  never  been  patterned.  Each 
wrought  from  her  own  point  of  view,  and  her 
school  reflected  her  personality  as  inevitably  as 
does  all  self-directed  work. 

The  fact  that  Derry-Ipswich  had  a  plan  at  all 
separated  it  from  the  guileless  company  of  ordi- 
nary boarding-schools ;  the  inclusions  and  omis- 
sions of  that  plan  distinguished  it  from  its  ven- 
turesome contemporaries.  Most  of  them  essayed 
to  manage  a  judicious  compromise.  In  advanc- 
ing to  an  exposed  position  their  commanders 
prudently  kept  control  of  the  old  entrenchments. 
One  eye  they  still  trained  on  the  conventions. 
Miss  Grant  and  Miss  Lyon  boldly  fixed  both 
upon  life.  With  fine  disdain  of  criticism  they  built 
squarely  on  Joseph  Emerson's  doctrine  of  the 
perfect  respectability  of  women's  brains.  The 
aim  of  Derry-Ipswich  was  not  to  "  finish,"  but  to 
help  each  student  find  and  sharpen  the  tools 
whereby,  with  the  help  of  time,  the  great  op- 
portunist, she  might  more  nearly  finish  herself. 
It  came  as  a  direct  outgrowth  of  the  older  sem- 
inary, breathing  its  atmosphere  of  order,  schol- 
arship, and  thought,  but  having  a  practical 


98     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

adaptation  to  existing  educational  conditions 
which  that  school,  stimulating  as  it  had  proved 
in  the  case  of  individuals,  conspicuously  lacked. 
"Mr.  Emerson's  plan  . . .  presupposed  too  much 
previous  improvement,"  wrote  Miss  Lyon. 
"  The  course  was  too  rapid  for  ordinary  minds 
and  also  for  such  as  were  young  or  but  little 
improved.  We  have  more  classes,  our  course  is 
slower,  and  the  increased  number  of  teachers 
will  enable  us  to  execute  our  plans  thoroughly." 
Small  schools  with  a  family  semblance  serve 
best  the  ends  of  small  girls ;  bigger  ones  profit 
by  numbers.  Hence,  a  single  school  cannot 
seek  to  become  all  things  to  all  ages  without 
loss  of  efficiency.  Derry-Ipswich,  choosing  a 
high  altitude,  deliberately  narrowed  its  field. 
It  encouraged  numbers,  setting  value  on  that 
traffic  in  points  of  view  which  is  commonly 
called  conversation,  at  the  same  time  cutting 
off  promiscuous  attendance.  It  sought  to  at- 
tract students  at  an  age  "  past  that  of  the  com- 
mon school  girls  of  New  England,"  and  for  sev- 
eral years  before  Miss  Lyon  left  the  seminary 
it  had  refused  entrance  under  fourteen.  To 
the  needs  of  an  older  growth  of  girls  every  cog 


TEACHING  99 

in  its  machinery  was  adapted.  Waste  of  power, 
like  waste  of  time,  its  promoters  held,  may  pro- 
ceed from  doing  things  legitimate  enough,  but 
not  the  best,  or  from  doing  the  best  at  the 
wrong  time  —  a  mismatching  of  the  action,  the 
girl,  and  the  hour.  To  search  out  the  perfect 
fit  is  a  teacher's  business ;  an  insight  Pestalozzi 
bequeathed  to  the  nineteenth  century. 

Academically,  the  seminary  presented  "a 
thorough  and  extensive"  and  continually  en- 
larging course  of  English  studies,  carefully 
graded,  which,  superimposed  on  the  district  or 
public-school  foundation,  advanced  a  pupil  by 
examination  and  led  to  a  diploma.  This  course 
crystallized  into  three  years,  embracing  "pri- 
mary studies"  and  two  "regular  classes."  A 
small  preparatory  department,  allowed  to  start 
at  Ipswich,  was  soon  dropped,  and  in  time, 
though  not  until  after  Miss  Lyon  left  the  sem- 
inary, the  catalogue's  specification  of  the  de- 
sirability of  a  certain  amount  of  knowledge  on 
admission  passed  into  entrance  requirements. 
Yet  many  came  who  did  not  take  the  regular 
courses,  and  divisions  were  always  made  up 
without  regard  to  the  time  a  young  woman  had 


100      THE  LIFE  OF  MARY  LYON 

spent  at  the  seminary,  but  with  strict  attention 
to  her  readiness  for  the  subject. 

The  required  work  included  no  "accom- 
plishments." The  study  that  could  not  prove  its 
worth  in  the  general  scheme,  no  matter  how 
well  it  might  look  on  paper,  found  itself  struck 
out.  "  Away  with  French  and  music  and  paint- 
ing from  our  school,"  Miss  Grant  once  wrote 
her  associate,  "until  its  worth  is  so  much  dimin- 
ished that  it  must  be  patched  and  puffed  up 
with  these  appendages."  The  words  are  to  be 
taken  more  as  a  slur  upon  contemporary  modes 
of  schooling  than  as  pronouncing  against  the 
arts  per  se.  Drawing  and  painting  were  offered ; 
Lowell  Mason  and  his  teachers  came  from 
Boston  to  give  lectures  at  Ipswich  Seminary; 
singing  classes  flourished  and  pianos  awaited 
practicing  fingers.  Out  of  class  Miss  Grant 
sought  to  school  students  to  social  ease.  She 
cared  much  for  appearance,  but  she  trusted 
in  the  hard  study  of  plain  subjects  to  give  it, 
conceiving  true  culture  as  an  emanation  from 
a  thinking  personality.  How  successfully  she 
proved  her  proposition  may  be  judged  from 
Miss  Susan  B.  Anthony's  remark  that  the  first 


TEACHING  101 

"fashionably  educated"  teacher  she  ever  had 
came  from  Ipswich  Seminary.  From  there, 
too,  proceeded  that  pattern  of  gracious  ele- 
gance, Miss  Hannah  Lyman,  first  "  lady  princi- 
pal" of  Vassar,  whose  fitness  for  the  post  Miss 
Grant,  then  Mrs.  Banister,  guaranteed  to  Presi- 
dent Raymond,  and  through  whom  she  be- 
came somewhat  actively  concerned  in  the  social 
organization  of  the  college. 

At  Derry-Ipswich  higher  branches  were  im- 
posed only  on  a  thoroughly  prepared  basis.  "  If 
you  wish  to  have  a  polished  education,"  Miss 
Lyon  said  in  one  of  her  talks,  "have  a  good 
foundation.  You  would  find  it  hard  to  polish 
a  piece  of  sponge,  but  not  to  polish  steel.  .  .  . 
Some  give  to  individuals  a  surface  improve- 
ment which  seems  to  hang  upon  them  like  tin- 
sel. Others  put  on  gold ;  it  does  not  go  on  so 
fast.  .  .  .  Surface  improvement  is  rapid  when 
something  new  is  brought  before  the  mind ; 
then  it  will  sink  down ;  [the]  solid  is  more  uni- 
form." In  their  emphasis  on  fundamentals 
Miss  Grant  and  Miss  Lyon  did  not  lay  a  unique 
stress.  Miss  Abigail  Hasseltine  long  practiced 
it  in  Bradford  Academy ;  and  at  Hartford  Miss 


102    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Catherine  Beecher  once  suspended  all  other 
studies  and  for  six  months  turned  the  atten- 
tion of  her  whole  school  to  the  so-called  "  lower 
branches."  The  way  they  were  studied  at 
Derry-Ipswich  robbed  them  of  elementariness. 
Attention  centred  on  the  thing  behind  the  sym- 
bol ;  the  country  behind  the  map ;  the  language 
behind  the  grammar ;  the  relations  behind  the 
numbers.  The  student  awoke  to  discover  that 
the  simplest  fact  of  everyday  acquaintance  may 
engender  a  philosophy.  Nothing  derives  its 
authority  from  books.  Grammar  is  "  made  by 
the  people,"  the  skeleton  of  living  speech. 
"The  grammarian,"  Miss  Lyon  concluded  a 
series  of  stimulating  talks,  punctuated  by  pene- 
trating questions,  "like  the  geographer,  does 
not  make  rivers  or  mountains,  nor  name  them, 
but  records  what  these  are  and  the  names  by 
which  people  call  them."  Teachers  were  di- 
rected, whenever  a  subject  permitted,  to  encour- 
age questions  outside  the  immediate  lesson, 
but  connected  with  it;  perhaps  in  memory  of 
Joseph  Emerson's  dictum  that  it  takes  know- 
ledge to  put  a  wise  interrogation. 

Among  the  "  General  Directions  for  all  the 


TEACHING  103 

Teachers"  occurs  this  passage :  "  In  each  study, 
let  the  teacher  pursue  such  a  course  as  will 
lead  the  pupils  to  feel  that  their  text-books 
contain  only  the  elements  of  the  study.  Let 
the  teacher  refer  to  distinguished  scholars  in 
that  branch.  .  .  .  Let  the  teacher  inspire  the 
scholar  with  a  spirit  to  pursue  the  study  more 
extensively  in  future  life."  Under  such  train- 
ing brains  grew  supple  with  exercise.  Try  to 
demonstrate  without  looking  first  to  see  how  a 
proposition  is  done  in  the  book,  Miss  Grant 
suggested  in  geometry.  In  class  the  natural 
juiciness  of  knowledge  flowed  in  free  discus- 
sion. As  at  Byfield,  students  of  "intellectual 
philosophy"  were  led  to  consult  their  own 
minds  and  to  test  the  author's  conclusions  by 
the  original  in  each  girl's  possession. 

Concerned  with  many  studies  at  once,  a 
"mind  does  not  become  imbued  with  any  of 
them,"  said  Miss  Grant.  Against  this  kind  of 
desultoriness  she  guarded  by  making  the  "se- 
ries" the  unit  of  work.  Five  "series"  gave  an 
academic  year.  A  study  might  run  through 
more  than  one  "series,"  but  each  student's 
schedule  generally  held  but  two  subjects  at  a 


104    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

time.  The  steeping  process  was  expected  to 
give  her  time  and  energy  to  become  interested 
in  what  she  did,  and  by  narrowing  the  range  of 
impressions  at  once  converging  on  her  brain, 
enable  it  the  better  to  care  for  what  it  received. 
Derry-Ipswich  had  no  use  for  a  mind  that 
leaked.  After  introducing  a  bit  of  information 
the  teachers  helped  foster  the  acquaintance. 
They  had  one  rule  for  this :  Review !  Review ! 
Review ! 

An  ordered  way  of  living,  held  by  Miss  Grant 
as  a  postulate  to  systematic  study,  presented  a 
problem  which  existing  conditions  made  even 
more  defiant  of  solution.  Mrs.  Willard's  Troy 
Seminary,  housing  and  schooling  under  one 
roof,  had  at  the  time  a  notable  appearance. 
Scattered  through  the  coast  town,  where  the 
nearest  approach  to  concentration  came  with 
the  building  of  a  house  for  the  principals  and 
thirty-three  students,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  seminary,  Miss  Grant's  girls  kept  the  same 
hours.  They  swayed  to  the  rhythm  of  habit, 
and  that  way  lies  ease. 

Born  autocrat  though  she  was,  a  radical  part 
of  Miss  Grant's  educational  intent  lay  in  con- 


TEACHING  105 

trolling  students  by  leading  them  intelligently 
to  approve  and  voluntarily  to  assent  to  the  reg- 
ulations necessary  for  the  community  life  of  a 
large  school.  "  The  government  is  intended  to 
be  in  rather  than  over  them,"  she  said.  But 
while  Derry-Ipswich  conveyed  the  effect  of 
being  ruled  by  the  consensus  of  public  opinion, 
that  opinion  took  its  direction  at  the  will  of  the 
principals.  To  the  spirit  of  the  seminary,  fos- 
tered in  its  earliest  years,  bequeathed  and  de- 
veloped from  generation  to  generation  of  stu- 
dents, they  looked  for  cooperation  in  executing 
as  well  as  in  making  the  laws.  External  re- 
wards and  punishments  fell  outside  the  plan. 
To  excel  gave  one  a  possible  chance  of  doing 
something  for  the  school,  and  it  was  bad 
enough  to  have  to  report  one's  self  for  break- 
ing a  law  of  one's  own  voting.  This  system  of 
self-reporting,  which  Miss  Grant  had  initiated 
as  Joseph  Emerson's  assistant,  and  used  so 
successfully  in  her  own  seminary,  she  did  not 
recommend  to  indiscriminate  employment.  A 
teacher  must  first  consult  the  moral  barometer 
of  her  little  community.  If  a  sluggish  conscience 
clouded  the  tube,  it  was  no  weather  for  self- 


106    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

government.  Truth  was  popular  at  Derry- 
Ipswich  and,  without  spying,  its  teachers  man- 
aged to  keep  a  fair  idea  of  the  sincerity  of  the 
reports. 

The  seminary  stood  for  the  vital  contact  of 
life  with  life.  To  secure  this  personal  relation 
against  the  caprices  of  time  and  chance,  the 
school  was  divided  into  "sections."  These 
served  the  purpose  of  easy  administration  of 
detail,  and  at  the  same  time  provided  ready- 
made  a  bond  of  intercourse  between  students 
and  teachers.  A  woman  made  it  her  business 
to  know  intimately  the  girls  making  up  the 
small  group  to  which  she  acted  as  "friend  and 
adviser,"  and  to  help  them  to  an  all-round 
growth.  "  Speak  of  them  as  though  they  were 
your  younger  sisters,"  the  principals  said  to 
new  assistants.  A  jest  on  some  dullard's  limi- 
tations, escaping  in  teachers'  meeting,  would 
bring  the  quick  words  from  Miss  Lyon,  "  Yes, 
I  know  she  has  a  small  mind,  but  we  must  do 
the  best  we  can  for  her."  But  with  all  her  in- 
corrigible optimism,  hers  was  also  that  ability, 
rare  in  women,  to  recognize  and  do  the  inevi- 
table thing  without  either  reproaches  or  repin- 


TEACHING  107 

ings.  She  could  expel  a  scholar  as  good-hu- 
moredly  as  she  had  received  her.  "  I  am  sorry 
for  you,"  she  would  say,  "but  the  good  of  the 
institution  requires  it." 

The  good  of  the  school !  At  that  bar  stud- 
ies, methods,  privileges,  persons,  came  to  judg- 
ment. Its  emphasis  stamped  indelibly  on  these 
young  minds  a  sense  of  individual  obligation  to 
the  group.  Beyond  themselves,  beyond  their 
sections,  they  saw  the  school.  So  the  seminary 
led  them  gently  into  those  wider  recognitions 
which  make  for  citizenship. 

Neither  the  moment  nor  the  manner  had 
been  stumbled  upon  by  chance ;  things  did  not 
happen  accidentally  at  Derry-Ipswich.  Frankly 
it  declared  its  programme.  After  childhood 
and  early  youth,  before  permanently  entering 
on  a  sphere  of  action,  there  is  **  a  time  when  our 
youth  of  both  sexes  need  not  simply  a  salutary 
moulding  influence,  but  when  they  need  a 
mighty  power  put  forth  upon  them  rousing 
their  souls  to  great  and  noble  deeds  of  benevo- 
lence. .  .  .  Let  a  lady  once  become  settled 
down  at  the  head  of  her  own  family  with  a  nar- 
row soul,  and  however  amiable  and  lovely  she 


108     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

may  be,  ...  a  narrow  soul  she  will  carry  with 
her  to  the  grave."  In  its  expansive  power  in- 
heres the  value  of  a  large  school  for  girls  of 
this  older  growth.  "They  need  to  have  their 
views  and  feelings  drawn  away  from  self  and 
beyond  the  family,  they  need  to  learn  by  prac- 
tice the  true  Christian  philosophy  of  sacrificing 
private  interest  to  public  good." 

Religion  is  the  Atlas  on  whose  shoulders,  by 
these  teachers'  belief,  rests  the  fabric  of  civili- 
zation; and  when  at  its  malleable  time  they 
sought  to  mint  girl  nature  to  useful  woman- 
hood, Christianity  was  the  "mighty  power" 
they  invoked.  In  an  age  when  its  sanctions 
were  often  interpreted  with  partisan  emphasis, 
they  refused  to  draw  denominational  lines. 
"  Not  what  I  think  or  what  you  think,  but  what 
is  truth  ?"  questioned  Miss  Lyon.  The  outlook 
of  her  generation  and  of  her  training  contrib- 
uted to  the  answer,  but  the  majority  of  her 
words  breathe  a  truth  to  the  human  spirit  that 
knows  no  untimeliness.  The  seminary  pre- 
sented the  uncommon  spectacle  of  a  commu- 
nity actually  living  by  the  social  teachings  of 
the  Bible.  It  was  one  of  the  regular  text-books ; 


TEACHING  109 

a  course,  conducted  much  like  any  efficient 
Bible-study  class,  ran  through  the  three  years, 
students  reciting  in  sections  on  Monday  morn- 
ings. Tri-weekly  morning  talks  by  the  princi- 
pals quickened  time-worn  passages  to  new  and 
persuasive  meanings,  for  Miss  Lyon,  at  least, 
possessed  a  freshness  of  outlook  that  compelled 
attention.  Deepening  perceptions  sought  a 
channel  through  which  to  act,  and  custom 
answered  to  demand,  until  for  every  girl  a  half- 
hour  of  quiet  alone  at  the  beginning  and  end  of 
day,  when  devotion  was  recommended  but  not 
made  obligatory,  steadied  nerves  as  well  as  souls. 
Only  the  deftest  touch  may  with  impunity 
seek  to  guide  a  life  to  sanctuary,  and  their  suc- 
cess bespeaks  for  these  women  deep  sagacity. 
History  makes  an  enlightening  comment  on 
this  point.  It  was  on  a  scriptural  rock  that 
principal  and  trustees  had  split  at  Derry.  The 
trustees,  content  with  present  results  but  fear- 
ful for  the  school's  reputation  and  their  own, 
remonstrated  against  the  prominence  given 
Biblical  teaching.  They  lived  to  regret  their 
action,  for  the  high  repute  of  Adams  Academy 
passed  from  Derry  with  the  passing  of  Zilpah 


110    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Grant  and  Mary  Lyon.  Only  two  years  after- 
ward, in  debt  and  disillusion,  they  attempted 
by  humble  terms  and  a  complete  concession  of 
the  involved  point  to  lure  Miss  Grant  back 
again.  Still  later  they  opened  negotiations  with 
Miss  Lyon,  then  at  the  head  of  Mount  Holyoke, 
to  secure  a  principal  who  should  restore  the 
academy  "  to  its  former  state."  A  recipe  for  the 
lady,  compounded  of  experience,  learning,  ac- 
complished manners,  and  general  acceptabil- 
ity to  the  community,  imposed  on  a  firm  reli- 
gious character,  suggests  that  experience  may 
have  proved  to  the  writer's  satisfaction  that 
what  he  asked  was  procurable.  Time,  blur- 
ring most  of  the  individualities,  has  conveyed 
an  impression  of  the  teachers  of  the  school  at 
Derry  and  Ipswich,  many  of  them  its  own  grad- 
uates, that  does  not  lack  the  lighter  tones  of 
grace  and  charm  and  beauty. 

The  seminary  grew  in  numbers  and  repute. 
From  four  the  first  summer  at  Derry,  the  teach- 
ing force  had  increased,  by  1834,  to  nine,  with 
five  assistant-pupils.  The  catalogue  three  years 
later  remarks  the  large  proportion  of  teachers 
to  students — about  one  to  fifteen — as  though 


TEACHING  111 

contrary  to  frequent  custom.  Qualitatively  also, 
these  women  formed  a  somewhat  notable  group : 
most  of  them,  proceeds  an  earlier  record,  "  have 
individually  had  the  entire  charge  of  a  school 
for  young  ladies."  Students  came  from  all  over 
the  country  and  beyond.  Teachers  swarmed  to 
the  seminary,  —  ambitious  girls  wishing  to  fit 
themselves,  women  already  embarked  on  the 
profession.  "  It  has  often  numbered  among  its 
pupils,"  wrote  Miss  Lyon,  "those  who  have 
been  employed  as  teachers  in  schools  of  almost 
every  grade,  those  who  had,  as  they  supposed, 
completed  their  education  years  before. ' '  Heads 
of  academies  sometimes  spent  from  six  months 
to  two  years  in  the  school  as  pupils,  not  of  the 
assistant  variety.  Special  attention  was  often 
paid  to  the  needs  of  this  class  of  students  by 
practical  talks  on  school-teaching. 

The  seminary  sent  its  product  to  every  state 
in  the  union.  Some  prefer  not  to  start  a  new 
school  in  the  West  until  they  can  get  an  Ipswich 
scholar  for  a  teacher,  runs  contemporary  testi- 
mony to  the  efficiency  of  its  output.  On  every 
student  who  went  to  teach,  Derry-Ipswich 
pressed  its  twin  injunctions  to  sincerity  and 


112    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY   LYON 

modesty.  "  Don't  use  high-sounding  terms  with 
regard  to  your  school ;  don't  call  it  an  acad- 
emy until  it  is  one."  "Don't  talk  about  your 
great  responsibility,  but  rather  feel  it  in  your 
heart."  Had  more  people  shared  the  scholarly 
ideals  of  these  Ipswich  students,  the  cult  of 
ambitious  titles  would  not  have  thrown  into 
confusion  so  much  of  the  educational  appara- 
tus of  the  United  States. 

Through  her  presence  and  her  absence  the 
seminary  remained  the  principal's,  but  much 
of  its  daily  impulse  flowed  from  Mary  Lyon. 
Miss  Zilpah  Grant,  dark,  personable,  and  com- 
manding, but  handicapped  by  fragile  health, 
contributed  an  effective  figure-head  and  a  brain 
equal  to  devising  and  fitting  together  the  ma- 
chinery of  its  running  gear.  Her  lively  associate 
furnished  the  sinews  of  success.  Without  her  it 
requires  no  stretch  of  fancy  to  surmise  that 
Ipswich  Seminary  would  never  have  had  the 
span  of  life  it  enjoyed.  The  position  brought 
her  a  peculiar  personal  delight,  in  addition  to 
her  professional  pleasure.  The  two  women 
drew  each  other  with  all  the  force  of  their  un- 
likeness.  Throughout  her  life  people  yielded 


TEACHING  113 

Miss  Grant  the  centre  of  the  stage,  for  there  she 
incontestably  belonged.  "It  is  an  intellect  to 
govern  a  state  or  adorn  the  bench,"  affirmed 
President  Raymond.  "Gail  Hamilton"  spicily 
wrote  of  her  in  the  "North  American  Review"  » 
under  the  title,  "An  American  Queen";  and  in 
all  innocence  of  intentional  humor  it  was  said 
after  her  marriage  that  European  visitors  came 
to  this  country  to  see  Niagara  and  Mrs.  Ban- 
ister. The  fact  that  Mary  Lyon  lavished  on  her 
the  sunniest  affection  of  a  big  heart  bespeaks 
for  the  lady's  statuesque  proportions  a  certain 
warmth  of  life.  To  the  temperate,  polished, 
well-poised  woman,  the  vigor  and  color  of  the 
younger  appealed  with  the  alien  charm  of  prod- 
igal abundance.  Through  characteristic  re- 
serves of  correspondence  her  affection  breaks 
now  and  then  in  some  phrase  which  gathers 
emphasis  from  the  stately  pen  that  wrote  it. 
The  quaint  formality  of  "  My  dear  Miss  Lyon," 
between  friends,  slips  ever  and  again  into  "  My 
very  dear  Sister." 

The  ease  of  their  relations  silently  testifies  to 
Miss  Lyon's  ability  as  a  lieutenant.  She  owned 

1  October,  1886. 


114    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

the  gift  of  wise  reserve  that  conserves  friend- 
ship, and  by  virtue  of  its  exercise  two  strongly 
independent  women  worked  in  harmony.  The 
younger  could  suggest  plans  by  the  score,  and 
leave  the  other  to  choose  among  them.  That 
she  had  her  own  thoughts,  not  always  coinci- 
dent with  those  of  her  associate,  a  single  pas- 
sage in  one  of  her  later  letters  witnesses.  It 
breathes  a  fine  loyalty  to  her  professional  supe- 
rior. With  a  quiet  mind  Miss  Grant  could  de- 
part on  those  long  rest-seeking  vacations  that 
absorbed  a  year  and  a  half  of  her  time  during 
Miss  Lyon's  assistant-principalship.  She  left 
her  seminary  in  safe  hands. 

That  young  woman  had  never  yet  done  a 
half-hearted  thing,  and  she  did  not  begin  when 
she  commenced  teaching.  All  her  life  she  ap- 
pears  not  to  have  given  herself  to  pursuits 
in  which  she  could  take  no  interest,  but  her 
method  often  reversed  the  ordinary  weeding-out 
process.  "Anything  may  become  interesting 
which  we  think  important,"  she  used  to  say. 
She  taught  well,  primarily  because  she  liked  to 
teach.  So  apt  was  she  at  squaring  her  deeds 
with  her  words,  that  when  we  find  her  advising 


TEACHING  115 

students,  "Clear  perception  is  next  important 
to  attention,  let  them  [your  scholars]  not  be 
indefinite,"  it  entails  no  license  to  apply  the 
words  to  her  own  class-room  manner.  "  There 
was  no  such  thing  as  a  pupil  slurring  over  a  re- 
citation with  her,"  remarked  President  Hitch- 
cock. But  before  trafficking  in  ideas,  as  in 
goods,  one  must  open  up  a  line  of  transporta- 
tion. Teachers,  as  she  told  her  students  at  Hoi- 
yoke,  must  be  able  "  to  have  their  minds  meet 
other  minds."  Failing  to  effect  a  junction,  no 
matter  how  valuably  freighted  either  side  may 
be,  the  whole  enterprise  fails.  "Knowledge 
must  be  drawn  from  the  scholars'  minds,  put 
in  order  and  replaced,"  she  continued.  "The 
teacher  recalls  it  in  a  happier  manner  than  the 
scholar  has  experience  to  do." 

The  activity  of  her  own  intellect  carried  her  a 
good  deal  more  than  half-way  to  meet  her  stu- 
dents. The  harder  one  was  to  get  at,  the  more 
eagerly  she  sought  some  point  at  which  to  es- 
tablish communication.  Her  energy  still  throve 
on  opposition.  "  Make  the  dull  ones  think  once 
a  day,"  she  cried.  "Make  their  eyes  sparkle 
once  a  day.  They  must  pass  over  some  things 


116    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

which  they  do  not  understand,  but  when  you 
do  [attempt  it],  make  them  think." 

The  fruit  of  thought  in  her  own  vivid  phrase 
is  "an  appetite  for  knowledge,"  and  this  she 
was  singularly  fortunate  in  whetting  in  her  stu- 
dents. One  who  was  both  her  pupil  and  fellow- 
teacher  has  said  of  her  method,  "  She  did  not 
think  so  much  of  a  perfect  lesson,  nor  take  so 
much  time  for  examination  on  the  text-books 
as  many  teachers  do,  but  she  made  the  hour 
one  of  delightful  improving  conversation  and 
exhilarating  mental  activity. ' '  Truth  went  sing- 
ing through  her  class-rooms  out  into  the  world, 
and  girls  scampered  blithely  after,  their  faces 
flushing  to  the  zest  of  the  chase,  their  minds 
closing  in  on  a  new  joy.  "There  are  peculiar 
sweets  derived  from  gaining  knowledge,  de- 
lights known  only  to  those  who  have  tested 
them,"  she  writes.  She  would  have  her  girls 
miss  none  of  their  legitimate  joys.  Brains  good 
at  digging  up  facts  often  lack  the  knack  of 
hitching  them  to  conclusions,  and  the  world  is 
full  of  conclusions  flourishing  in  cheerful  immu- 
nity from  facts.  "  It  is  important  that  the  mind 
should  become  particular  as  well  as  general," 


TEACHING  117 

ran  a  note-taker's  quill ;  "  that  it  be  trained  to 
definite  action,  and  if  it  can  be  united  with  free- 
dom of  thought  it  will  be  happy."  Her  method 
involved  no  less  of  plan  because  it  was  "  active 
and  flexible." 

Her  versatility  betrays  itself  astonishingly 
in  the  range  of  subjects  which  she  taught.  "In 
whatever  department  of  literature  or  science 
engaged,  a  looker-on  would  suppose  that  to 
be  her  favorite  pursuit,"  President  Hitchcock 
declared.  Mental  arithmetic  was  one  of  her 
hobbies.  She  wrote  of  having  "a  delightful 
time  teaching  history."  "The  plan  of  instruc- 
tion must  be  good,"  was  her  advice  to  a  young 
teacher,  "to  render  history  interesting  and 
profitable.  .  .  .  On  few  subjects  do  teachers 
fail  more  than  on  this."  Her  ear  rejoiced  in  the 
majesties  of  the  Old  Testament ;  the  cadence 
of  its  English,  the  splendor  of  its  imagery. 
She  loved  Milton,  the  full-throated  Puritan. 
Had  specialization  come  earlier  into  fashion, 
what  would  have  been  her  choice  ?  One  who 
knew  her  and  taught  with  her,  queries,  "I 
often  wonder  what  a  teacher  of  literature  she 
would  have  made !"  Remembering  her  delight 


118    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

in  things  reasonable,  that  turned  the  march  of 
Jonathan  Edwards's  argument  into  intellectual 
recreation,  fancy  at  first  tends  to  allow  to  phi- 
losophy the  balance  of  her  favor.  But  her  in- 
tense curiosity  toward  natural  science  halts 
conjecture.  President  Hitchcock  inclined  to 
think  chemistry  and  Butler's  "Analogy"  the 
subjects  which  she  taught  the  best.  "  In  almost 
all  her  schools  she  lectured  on  chemistry,"  he 
added,  "and  performed  the  experiments  with 
much  success." 

For  this  her  preparation  had  been  as  thor- 
ough as  she  could  make  it;  her  active  spirit 
abhorred  any  inadequacy.  The  better  to  equip 
herself  for  work  the  first  year  at  Adams  Acad- 
emy, she  hurried  from  her  school  in  the  hills  to 
Amherst  College,  and  the  lectures  of  Professor 
Amos  Eaton.  Something  of  the  vitality  of  her 
person  has  clung  to  recollection  of  her,  and 
long  afterward  undergraduates  of  the  time  re- 
membered how  she  used  to  come  into  class,  a 
corner  of  her  shawl  trailing  on  the  ground.  A 
little  later,  again  under  Amos  Eaton,  then  "  Pro- 
fessor of  chemistry  and  experimental  philoso- 
phy, and  lecturer  on  geology,  landsurveying, 


TEACHING  119 

and  the  laws  regulating  town  offices  and  jurors," 
at  the  Rensselaer  School  in  Troy,  New  York, 
she  spent  a  vacation  studying  in  the  first  in- 
stitute of  technology  in  the  country.  A  cir- 
cular, preserved  among  her  papers,  explains 
the  school's  then  advanced  method.  "In  the 
course  on  chemistry  students  are  divided  into 
sections,  not  more  than  five  in  a  section.  These 
are  not  to  be  taught  by  seeing  experiments  and 
hearing  lectures  according  to  the  usual  method, 
but  they  are  to  lecture  and  experiment  by  turns, 
under  the  immediate  direction  of  a  professor  or 
a  competent  assistant."  "  We  shall  have  at  least 
one  section  of  ladies  to  work  as  within,"  scrib- 
bled Professor  Eaton  on  the  back  of  the  sheet. 
"  Would  it  not  be  well  for  you  to  spend  the  term 
here  ?  You  would  then  be  well  prepared."  He 
adds  a  word  about  laboratory  apparatus  sent 
to  Deny.  "I  shall  attend  what  lectures  are 
given  to  the  Rensselaer  School  while  I  am  here, 
principally  in  chemistry  and  natural  philoso- 
phy," she  wrote  from  Professor  Eaton's  home 
on  the  day  of  her  arrival.  How  long  she  stayed 
we  do  not  know,  but  at  every  turn  of  life  she 
availed  herself  of  the  chance  to  learn. 


In  nothing  was  she  less  visionary  than  in  her 
attitude  toward  the  rewards  of  her  profession,  a 
hardy  union  of  enthusiasm  and  common  sense 
being  perhaps  her  most  persuasive  quality.  A 
persistently  logical  mind  would  not  let  her, 
after  sowing  intangibles,  look  to  reap  tangibles, 
and  she  did  not  confuse  for  others  the  issues  of 
choice.  "Never  teach  the  immortal  mind  for 
money,"  she  cried.  "If  money-making  is  your 
object,  be  milliners  or  dressmakers,  but  teach- 
ing is  a  sacred,  not  a  mercenary  employment." 
What  she  had  to  say  on  the  motives  that  might 
justly  lead  a  woman  of  her  generation  to  make 
extraordinary  efforts  to  become  a  better  teacher, 
was  based  on  intimate  acquaintance  with 
American  school  conditions  in  the  fourth  dec- 
ade of  her  century,  and  she  said  it  candidly.  It 
amounts  to  this.  If  you  seek  more  learning  for 
the  love  of  it,  or  from  a  desire  to  make  yourself 
more  useful,  the  gain  is  worth  the  cost.  But  if 
you  want  it  to  give  your  services  a  greater 
money  value,  the  facts  will  not  bear  you  out. 
Comparatively  few  positions  offer  flattering  sal- 
aries; these  are  mostly  abundantly  supplied,  in 
some  cases  so  superabundantly  as  to  produce 


TEACHING  121 

a  degrading  rivalry.  Nor  do  they  give  oppor- 
tunity for  the  greatest  usefulness.  The  pupils  in 
these  schools  seldom  make  the  best  students. 
Often  a  teacher  with  "  a  good  mechanical  and 
military  tact  at  getting  along,  who  labors  faith- 
fully merely  for  the  sake  of  the  money  at  the  end 
of  the  year,  will  do  as  much  good  as  the  most 
benevolent  teacher."  If  you  really  want  to  see 
yourself  count,  take  a  small  school  in  the  back 
woods ;  there  are  plenty  of  chances  in  the  West. 
It  will  pay  you  little  in  money,  but  it  will  pur- 
chase those  unnegotiable  securities  which  are 
the  legitimate  returns  of  love  and  patience  and 
self-giving. 

Wrote  a  visitor  to  Ipswich  in  1833 :  "In  fif- 
teen minutes  after  I  arrived  I  was  gratified  with 
a  sight  of  that  noted  and  truly  wonderful  wo- 
man, Miss  Lyon.  .  .  .  She  is  the  perfect  image 
of  health."  Referring  to  another  person :  "  Her 
expression  reminded  me  of  her  in  a  moment, 
just  such  full,  smiling,  happy  blue  eyes,  plump 
rosy  cheeks,  sandy  hair,  and  as  much  more  in- 
tellect and  intelligence  as  you  can  conceive." 
The  reference  to  her  hair  introduces  contro- 
versy, Miss  Lyon's  hair  being  "  red, "  "  auburn," 


122    THE   LIFE  OF   MARY  LYON 

"sandy,"  or  "light  brown,"  according  to  the 
describer.  Before  me  lies  a  lock  of  it,  brown, 
with  dominating  glints  of  red.  Perhaps  the 
nearest  approach  to  the  truth  is  contained  in 
the  word  of  one  who,  but  a  few  years  later,  used 
as  a  child  to  love  to  sit  and  look  at  that  hair. 
She  calls  it  a  "golden-auburn." 

The  "noted  and  truly  wonderful"  Miss 
Lyon  was  the  same  and  yet  not  the  same  as  the 
impetuous  girl  who  had  tried  to  mould  other 
raw  material  and  failed.  She  had  taken  plenty 
of  time  to  get  herself  in  hand.  The  miracle  of 
life,  which  is  the  miracle  of  becoming,  worked 
fast  in  her,  yet,  so  capacious  was  she,  with  an 
effect  of  deliberation.  The  years  reveal  her, 
preeminently,  as  a  growing  power.  One  can- 
not plunge  as  she  did  into  work,  and  come  up, 
after  more  than  a  decade,  unchanged.  By 
teaching  she  was  taught. 

Yet  there  remains  for  the  lover  of  youth  a 
compelling  charm  about  that  earlier  figure.  It 
stands  out  as  April  against  June,  impulsively 
yielding  to  the  stirrings  of  life;  a  creature  of 
contrasts,  easy  smiles  and  tears,  high  spirits, 
dark  depressions,  quick  likings,  swift  aversions, 


TEACHING  123 

yet  withal  warm  and  sound  at  the  heart  and 
holding  in  its  very  abandon  the  seeds  of  a 
wealthy  flowering.  Youth  is  always  a  see-saw, 
and  it  was  inevitable  that  Mary  Lyon  should 
play  the  game  thoroughly.  When  she  was  up, 
she  shot  very  high  indeed ;  and  when  she  went 
down,  she  was  buried  in  depression.  Opposi- 
tion's little  finger  tumbled  her  in  the  dust  of 
discouragement,  from  which  she  bounded  up 
as  easily.  She  liked  to  go  away  by  herself  and 
cry,  and  her  ever-present  humor  twinkles  in 
the  midst  of  tears  in  a  story  told  of  her  after  she 
had  been  for  some  time  a  teacher.  Asking  one 
night  how  long  it  would  be  before  tea,  she  was 
told  to  her  evident  disappointment  that  it  was 
nearly  ready,  but  might  be  delayed  to  accom- 
modate her.  "Oh  no,"  she  said  cheerfully,  "I 
was  only  wishing  to  have  a  good  crying-spell, 
and  you  could  not  give  me  time  enough."  Be- 
low this  fitful  surface  her  will  held  steady  as  the 
needle  to  the  pole;  directed  by  the  insights  of 
her  profession,  it  swept  her  out  of  the  rapids 
and  into  the  deeper  waters  of  an  equable  and 
sunny  life.  Once  having  made  up  her  mind 
that  she  had  better  uses  for  her  time  than  to 


124    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

spend  it  in  a  "good  crying-spell,"  she  cried  no 
more;  and  those  who  saw  her  later,  unruffled 
by  redoubling  anxieties  and  rebuffs,  found  it 
hard  to  believe  that  her  calendar  had  ever  held 
an  April  leaf. 

A  very  April's  child  was  the  self-distrust  that 
handicapped  her  first  teaching  years.  She 
thought  lightly  of  her  dignity,  and  feared  close 
association  with  students  lest  she  lose  her  in- 
fluence over  them.  In  a  houseful  of  girls  at 
Buckland  she  had  recourse  to  the  device  of  in- 
troducing a  subject  to  root  out  the  frailties  of 
undirected  table-talk.  The  unshadowed  light  of 
youth  showed  evil  and  good  alike,  with  pitiless 
distinctness,  and  she  had  not  yet  learned  to 
make  an  ally  of  time.  With  that  amazing  self- 
knowledge  which  was  always  hers,  she  gauged 
her  abilities  justly ;  her  possibilities  she  had  not 
discovered  how  to  measure.  So  she  preferred 
not  to  do  at  all  what  she  was  not  sure  that 
she  could  do  well.  "That  is  one  of  the  things 
which  I  cannot  do,"  she  used  to  say,  "but  this 
I  can  do  very  well,  or  so  well  that  no  one  will 
suffer  loss ;  and  I  want  this  for  my  part  to-day." 
But  her  work  laid  its  big,  inexorable  hand  upon 


TEACHING  125 

her  and  pushed  her  out  into  paths  that  she  had 
shunned. 

For  the  people  who  feel  constrained  to  prac- 
tice what  they  preach,  advice  is  a  boomerang. 
She  who  ate  and  slept  in  the  fractions  of  time 
remaining  from  more  congenial  pursuits, whose 
delight  it  was  to  throw  herself  bodily  to  a  rav- 
enous learning,  must  ill  press  regularity  upon 
a  school.  If  she  sat  up  all  night  to  study,  could 
she  convincingly  counsel  her  girls  to  go  to  bed  ? 
The  responsibility  for  dispensing  advice  neces- 
sitated on  her  part  close  inspection.  Under  the 
scrutiny  it  appears  to  have  shown  unexpected 
excellencies,  for  we  find  her  soon  closing  a  let- 
ter to  Miss  Grant  with  the  suggestive  sentence : 
"I  believe  I  must  be  exceedingly  cautious  not 
to  encroach  upon  the  time  for  sleep,  even  to 
write  to  my  dearest  and  best  earthly  friend." 

The  scholar  in  her  began  to  teach.  The 
scholar  was  more  immediately  interested  in 
studies  than  students,  in  intellect  than  char- 
acter. Her  own  education  had  been  a  haphaz- 
ard affair,  without  calculated  order;  her  own 
appetite,  too  keen  to  question  what  it  fed  on. 
In  turn  to  make  fine  scholars  summed  her  aim. 


126    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

As  she  taught,  the  scholar  passed  over  into  the 
teacher  who  chooses  wise  roads  to  wise  ends. 
Through  what  is,  she  glimpsed  what  ought  to 
be.  Creative  imagination  stirred  powerfully 
within  her.  The  future  woman  in  hiding  within 
every  present  student  emerged  and  claimed  the 
centre  of  her  thought.  The  woman  was  to  hope 
and  desire  and  love  and  dare  and  do,  as  well 
as  to  think,  and  she  felt  it  quite  as  much  a  part 
of  her  business  to  open  a  girl's  eyes  to  her  op- 
portunities in  living  as  to  stimulate  her  intellect. 
No  fortunate  juxtaposition  of  people  or  happy 
conformity  of  circumstance  can  have  been  es- 
sential to  the  development  of  this  view  in  Mary 
Lyon,  though  undoubtedly  both  contributed 
to  its  quickening. 

Students  caught  her  own  ardor  for  goodness, 
and  morals,  like  the  measles,  are  most  readily 
transmitted  by  way  of  a  microbe.  She  taught 
the  Copernican  system,  which  infinitely  en- 
larges the  scope  of  one's  universe.  "If  you 
would  make  the  most  improvement,  don't  con- 
fine your  desires  to  self ;  take  an  extended  view 
—  look  at  the  whole,"  she  urged.  "Let  none 
of  your  feelings  be  exhausted  on  trifles."  She 


TEACHING  127 

came  to  see  people,  she  said  once,  as  contrac- 
tions, and  she  liked  to  think  what  they  were 
contractions  of.  "  Our  thoughts  have  the  same 
effect  on  us  as  the  company  we  keep,"  she 
told  her  girls,  and  she  put  them  in  the  way  of 
thinking  largely.  "Make  them  bigger  than 
their  mothers  and  fathers!"  It  was  a  cry 
out  of  her  heart.  She  was  dreaming  of  a  race 
of  women  strong- bodied,  big-brained,  great- 
souled,  and  she  wanted  to  help  her  dream  come 
true. 

How  did  I  happen  and  what  am  I  for  ?  The 
riddle  that  keeps  humanity  guessing  found  her 
ready  with  an  inspiriting  answer.  Her  talks 
on  every-day  affairs,  health,  habit,  the  use  of 
money,  dress,  manners,  secrets,  called  to  a  high 
self-respect.  They  sparkled  to  her  lips  from  a 
heart  warm  with  human  kindness  and  an  un- 
derstanding fed  on  keen  observation  of  people. 
Laughter  rollicked  through  her  character- 
sketches;  humor,  smiling  delicately,  winged 
shafts  that  were  always  pointed  by  shrewd 
sense.  She  had  a  keen  eye  for  form,  and  eccen- 
tricity in  little  things  hurt  her  feeling  for  har- 
mony, betraying  inner  disorder.  "  Who  would 


128    THE   LIFE   OF    MARY  LYON 

be  glad  to  have  me  prepare  a  few  coats  ready 
for  any  one  to  put  on  ?  "  she  asked  once  at  Buck- 
land  in  speaking  of  self-knowledge.  "  Who  will 
endeavor  to  put  it  on  if  it  belongs  to  her  ?  "  It 
was  a  breezy  talk  blowing  from  high  sunlit 
spaces,  and  the  seeds  it  scattered  ripened  to  a 
generous  symmetry  of  life. 

She  infused  into  girls  her  own  foresight  of 
what  they  might  become ;  perforce,  since  she 
believed  in  them,  they  began  to  believe  in  them- 
selves. "You  were  the  first  friend  who  ever 
pointed  out  to  me  defects  of  character  with 
the  expectation  that  they  would  be  removed," 
wrote  an  Ipswich  pupil  in  one  of  the  few  letters 
of  this  kind  which  have  been  preserved.  An- 
other says  that  but  for  Miss  Lyon's  "  kind  coun- 
sel and  instructions"  she  would  never  have  be- 
come a  missionary  to  the  Indians.  Still  another 
tells  of  success  in  banishing  "that  'long  face' 
which  you  were  so  faithful  in  assisting  me  to 

leave  off  at  Ipswich.  .  .  .  Mr. has  told 

me  but  once  that  I  looked  '  sober. ' : 

She  shrank,  at  first,  from  much  speech  on 
things  that  concern  the  soul.  Her  contempora- 
ries noted  that  for  many  years  she  taught  the 


TEACHING  129 

Bible  as  she  would  any  other  book,  finding 
in  it,  most  emphatically,  intellectual  pleasure. 
But  need,  whenever  she  heard  its  call,  bugling 
all  her  energies  to  action,  brought  out  in  time 
her  articulateness  on  this  point  also.  Yet,  so 
far  did  her  ideals  outstrip  her  appreciation 
of  her  success,  that  at  the  close  of  her  life, 
when  others  found  her  most  eloquent,  she  felt 
least  satisfied.  Such  was  the  final  insight  that 
her  teaching  brought  her.  Diffidently  at  first, 
more  and  more  confidently  as  her  touch  gained 
experience,  she  sought  to  enlighten  spirit  as  well 
as  mind  and  heart.  Out  of  much  observation 
she  came  to  believe  that  a  person  goes  further 
when  consciously  linked  with  God ;  she  believed 
that  to  align  one's  self  with  Him  enlarges  all 
one's  powers,  as  though  a  creature  that  had 
been  battling  against  a  mighty  force  suddenly 
turned  and  swam  with  the  current.  "  [A]  great 
mistake  [is  made]  by  good  people  in  supposing 
religion  counter  to  principles  of  nature."  To 
her  thought  it  was  the  supremely  natural  thing 
in  the  world.  "Our  minds  are  so  constituted 
that  nothing  but  God  can  fill  them." 

Her  faith  was  very  simple.  The  theology  she 


130     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

owned  took  color  from  Calvin's  determining 
brain,  but  one  who  knew  her  best  in  the  Hoi- 
yoke  years  now  says,  "  I  did  not  know  she  was 
a  Calvinist."  The  wonder  is  that  in  the  genera- 
tion when  she  lived  she  could  have  so  laid  her 
emphasis  as  to  leave  the  point  in  doubt  with 
memory.  Religion  with  her  was  primarily  nei- 
ther an  intellectual  assent  nor  an  emotional  ex- 
perience, but  a  life.  As  such  she  quickened  it  in 
her  girls.  On  no  a  priori  grounds  she  sought  to 
lead  them  to  make  the  "  Great  Decision,"  only 
as  experience  showed  her  its  fruits.  She  went 
about  it  without  bustle  or  excitement.  Visitors 
and  townspeople  seldom  knew  of  what  might 
be  going  on  beneath  their  eyes.  They  should 
never  be  irregular  for  the  sake  of  religion,  she 
counseled  teachers. 

Her  gospel  was  like  herself,  buoyant  and  vig- 
orous. She  preached  it  in  her  smiling  blue  eyes 
and  in  her  strong  and  joyous  life ;  she  preached 
it  in  words  that  grew  more  sure  with  time. 
Hers  was  a  call  to  happiness.  "  God  wants  you 
to  be  happy;  he  made  you  to  be  happy."  "A 
duty  need  not  be  unpleasant."  Healthily  she 
warned  against  the  asceticism  which  finds  vir- 


TEACHING  131 

tue  in  deprivation :  "  You  have  no  right  to  give 
up  your  happiness  because  you  are  willing  to." 
Out  of  her  own  nature  she  defined  her  terms. 
"  Happiness  is  in  activity,"  she  said  at  Holyoke. 
"  God  has  so  made  us  that  the  remembrance  of 
energy  makes  us  happy."  "  Holiness  leads  to 
the  most  vigorous  action.  Real  holiness  tends 
to  make  the  character  energetic."  To  work 
with  God  in  the  world  was  the  Christian  op- 
portunity as  she  saw  it ;  in  her  own  phrase,  "  to 
labor  with  God  as  children  with  a  father,  to 
walk  by  his  side,  to  unite  with  Him  in  his  great 
work."  To  this  strenuous  holiness  she  called 
her  girls.  But  she  never  presumed  on  her  posi- 
tion to  importune,  or  belittled  religion  by  be- 
seechings.  Hers,  to  put  the  proposition ;  theirs, 
to  become,  or  no,  partners  with  opportunity, 
adventurers  for  God.  Life  was  not  life  in  her 
eyes  without  independence.  "As  well  believe 
for  others  as  to  educate  in  the  highest  sense. 
Passive  education  is  mechanical."  "  [Do]  not  at- 
tempt anything,"  her  note-book  reports,  "be- 
cause I  think  it  best,  — not  unless  you  believe  it 
is  desirable,  practical,  and  expedient.  Feel  the 
force  of  it.' 


132    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

This  sense  of  the  otherness  of  every  person 
underlay  the  remarkable  stability  of  her  work. 
She  found  people  different  and  she  did  not  try 
to  make  them  alike.  "  We  do  the  most  good  by 
making  the  most  of  ourselves  that  we  possibly 
can.  Each  is  to  try  to  make  the  most  of  her  own 
powers  and  not  to  try  to  become  somebody 
else."  Instead  of  setting  a  standard  for  her 
school,  she  led  each  girl  to  fix  her  own.  "  We 
expect  your  best,  not  what  is  good  for  another, 
but  yours."  That  brains  are  unequally  distrib- 
uted through  the  human  species,  seems  never 
to  have  troubled  her ;  what  mattered  was  that 
each  person  should  know  how  to  use  what  she 
had  to  the  best  advantage.  So  with  the  bundle 
of  tendencies  that  makes  habit.  She  herself 
took  no  stitches  in  girls'  characters;  she  put 
them  in  a  way  to  mend  their  own  rents.  And 
she  always  helped  them  fasten  the  end  of  their 
thread  by  the  simple  expedient  of  inquiring 
from  time  to  time  how  they  were  succeeding  in 
what  they  had  set  for  themselves.  But  individ- 
uals have  rights  as  well  as  propensities,  and 
among  them  is  the  right  to  choose  one's  own 
good.  "  If  you  really  rather  spend  your  money 


TEACHING  133 

on  yourselves,  spend  it,"  Miss  Lyon  said  once 
at  Ipswich  in  talking  about  giving.  "I  charge 
you  spend  it  on  yourselves.  If  a  spark  of  bene- 
volence [exists]  I  would  kindle  it  into  a  flame, 
but  ...  I  don't  want  artificial  fire." 

Meanwhile  she  lived  the  full  life  of  a  suc- 
cessful teacher,  made  fuller  in  her  case  by  the 
liberal  compulsions  of  her  nature ;  bearing  her 
part  in  difficult  days'  work  that  have  little  of 
outward  happening  notable  enough  to  mark 
their  sequence.  Her  letters  reveal  the  passage 
through  her  mind  of  some  "floating  ideas"  for 
enriching  the  study  of  English,  and  her  dissat- 
isfaction with  many  of  the  schoolbooks  of  the 
period.  She  finds  in  their  prevalent  style  little 
of  the  "elevated  simplicity"  that  she  desires, 
and  she  deplores  their  carelessness  as  inimical 
to  "  solid  scholarship."  She  tries  to  secure  a  re- 
publication  of  Edwards's  "  History  of  Redemp- 
tion," remarking,  "Sometimes  I  almost  fear 
that  we  shall  read  our  minds  all  away  .  .  . 
with  a  perpetual  succession  of  books  of  mush- 
room growth."  With  all  the  care  of  the  semi- 
nary resting  on  her  shoulders  she  yet  made  time 
during  her  last  summer  at  Ipswich  to  teach  a 


134    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

woman  who  worked  in  the  kitchen  to  read.  The 
woman  was  about  forty  years  old,  and  had  been 
ashamed  to  let  any  one  know  of  her  inability. 
Somehow,  in  that  quietly  absorbent  way  of  hers, 
Miss  Lyon  found  it  out,  and  straightway  began 
to  teach  her  alone  in  her  own  room.  It  is  but 
one  of  the  kindly  deeds  which  were  always  flow- 
ering unobtrusively  beneath  her  busy  feet.  We 
come  upon  the  trace  of  another  class  of  them  in 
a  letter  written  by  the  father  of  one  of  her  pu- 
pils, accompanying  an  enclosure  of  money,  per- 
haps the  final  payment  on  a  loan  which  she  seems 
to  have  made  the  girl.  His  sincere  and  hearty 
thanks  are  Miss  Lyon's  for  her  "  kindness  to  our 
family  and  this  dear  child  in  particular."  Some- 
thing more  valuable  than  money  passed  be- 
tween the  two.  "If  I  am  worth  anything  to 
society,"  the  girl  wrote  her  sister,  "I  owe  it 
in  great  measure  to  dear  Miss  Lyon."  Such 
honest  words,  the  unsalaried  increment  of  the 
teaching  profession,  repay  grinding  anxieties. 
For  she  knew  her  days  of  dark  perplexity,  — 
days  when  at  the  close  of  school  she  "  seemed 
to  have  but  just  physical  strength  enough  left  to 
bear  her  home,  just  intellect  enough  to  think 


TEACHING  135 

the  very  small  thoughts  of  a  little  infant,  and 
just  emotion  enough  to  tremble  under  the 
shock." 

Her  position  brought  her  into  wider  contacts. 
She  came  to  know  the  townspeople  as  only  one 
who  put  conscience  and  care  into  the  selection 
of  boarding-places  for  scores  of  girls  could  know 
them.  "  Your  friends  here  inquire  after  you 
daily,"  Miss  Grant  wrote  in  one  of  the  earlier 
Ipswich  winters ;  "  you  have  found  favor  in  the 
eyes  of  this  people."  Down  the  years  flash 
glimpses  of  visits  to  neighboring  academies,  of 
short  vacations  passed  in  scholarly  Andover. 
As  men  and  women  in  her  own  line  of  work 
found  her  out,  they  applied  to  her  for  advice 
and  cooperation  in  their  educational  schemes 
and  for  criticism  of  their  text-books.  Hearing 
a  report  that  she  had  been  induced  to  consider 
a  position  at  Greenfield,  Miss  Beecher  wrote 
in  haste :  "  Will  you  write  me  immediately  if 
there  is  any  prospect  that  I  could  induce  you 
to  join  the  faculty  of  the  H.  F.  Seminary."  Re- 
quests for  the  recommendation  of  teachers 
multiplied.  The  path  to  the  seminary's  hos- 
pitable door  was  worn  wide,  and  many  people 


136    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

trod  it.  On  the  days  of  semiannual  public 
examinations,  carryalls  from  Andover  rolled 
over  to  Ipswich  to  help  swell  the  audience  of 
coming  events,  when  the  calisthenics  class  light- 
ened the  mental  programme  by  evolutions  per- 
formed with  a  discipline  described  by  one  of  the 
teachers  as  "not  quite  equal,  perhaps,  to  West 
Point  Cadets." 

Nor  did  an  older  civilization  pass  Derry- Ips- 
wich by.  Of  the  visitors  from  Europe,  probably 
the  most  notable,  though  not  perhaps  the  most 
inquisitive,  was  General  Lafayette,  who  in  his 
indefatigable  demonstration  of  America  Re- 
visited, stopped  at  Adams  Academy  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1825.  It  is  a  dramatic  picture  of  the 
marquis's  arrival  that  Miss  Lyon's  torn  old 
letter  gives.  The  stage  is  set  with  darkness  and 
canopied  with  lightening-rent  clouds.  A  hun- 
dred girls,  white  as  their  gowns,  cower  under 
the  crashing  thunder.  Enter  "three  horsemen 
riding  full  speed."  Presto !  Terror  turns  to  de- 
light, dread  to  expectation.  Cheeks  flush  and 
eyes  sparkle,  heedless  of  the  tremendous  thun- 
derclap that  shakes  the  building  as  the  courtly 
Frenchman  enters.  One  feels  inclined  to  quar- 


TEACHING  137 

rel  with  time  for  tearing  the  sheet  across  at  the 
very  point  of  the  introductions. 

It  is  a  pity  that  so  little  of  Mary  Lyon's  wit 
has  come  down  to  us.  Only  here  and  there  a 
smile  lights  up  the  tale  of  her  who  must  have 
laughed  so  often,  persisting,  as  it  seems,  in 
despite  of  her  biographers.  Perhaps  the  good 
people  about  her  were  too  busy  chronicling  her 
other  qualities ;  perhaps,  too,  they  a  little  dis- 
trusted the  virtue  of  humor.  The  readiness 
with  which,  on  occasion,  she  packed  a  whole 
philosophy  into  a  sentence  betrays  a  nimble 
tongue.  And  she  was  quick  at  repartee.  But 
one  or  two  of  her  bons  mots  persist,  slipping 
withal  so  lightly  from  her  lips  as  to  betoken  an 
irrepressible  ease.  "She  could  be  a  very  merry 
woman,"  one  has  written  of  her  later  Holyoke 
days.  And  ever  her  heart  tempered  her  wit  to 
kindly  speech.  Catherine  Beecher,  somewhat 
out  of  health,  wrote  to  arrange  a  meeting:  "I 
want  you  to  come,  therefore,  prepared  to  be  as 
calm  as  a  clock  when  you  talk  to  me.  ...  I 
can  listen  much  better  than  I  can  talk,  provided 
you  will  not  be  too  interesting." 

To  slur  the  point  would  belittle  one  of  the 


138    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

triumphs  of  her  gently  masterful  nature.  There 
was  little  in  her  life  to  feed  high  spirits.  Good 
cheer  had  less  vogue  among  earnest  persons  in 
the  earlier  decades  of  the  nineteenth  century 
than  later,  and  the  religious  attitude  of  New 
England  tended  to  blight  any  but  the  most 
hardy  humor.  Nor  did  she  at  any  time  in  her 
life  escape  the  touch  of  personal  grief.  Separa- 
tion from  those  she  loved  always  hurt  her,  and 
she  felt  keenly  the  far-scattering  of  her  family. 
Ties  of  blood  bound  her  closely,  and  the  ills 
and  sorrows  of  her  relatives  and  friends  struck 
cruelly  at  her  heart.  In  her  sister  Lovina  Lyon 
Putnam's  sickness  she  tasted  a  bitterness  harder 
to  endure  than  death.  Worn  with  nursing  her 
husband,  Mrs.  Putnam  fell  ill  of  fatigue  which 
resulted  in  derangement  of  mind,  and  she  was 
taken  to  the  Hartford  asylum  for  the  insane. 
At  once  the  youngest  sister  came  to  care  for  the 
sick  man  and  the  five  little  children  "  left,  like 
orphans,  while  their  father  and  mother  are  still 
living,"  and  Miss  Lyon  gave  both  of  her  money 
and  time.  During  these  months  she  wrote 
weekly  letters  to  her  sister  in  the  asylum.  Mr. 
Putnam's  death  preceded  his  wife's  discharge. 


TEACHING  139 

She  came  home  to  her  family  a  widow,  and 
Mary  lingered  in  the  region  that  she  might  be 
near  them.  But  her  sister's  recovery  proved 
incomplete,  and  the  anxious  years  of  her  fur- 
ther illness  in  Hartford  were  brightened  only 
by  hope  and  by  the  sight  and  report  of  her 
gentle  self-restraint  when  free  from  the  clutch 
of  her  disease.  Less  than  a  month  before  her 
death,  to  Miss  Lyon  with  the  care  of  Ipswich 
Seminary  full  upon  her  came  sudden  word  of 
the  passing  of  her  next  younger  sister,  Ro- 
sina,  "a  kind  of  darling  among  us  all,"  as  she 
wrote.  So  she  paid  her  toll  of  sorrow  to  the 
years,  and  they  gave  her  to  walk  in  a  sweet 
surety  of  unseen  things. 

Her  way  did  not  lack  those  abundant  ifs 
that  like  sign-boards  on  every  life-road  point 
conjecture  to  the  might-have-been.  Two  in 
particular  which  she  set  her  face  to  pass,  not 
without  hesitation,  need  a  word  of  explanation. 
The  year  after  her  summer  at  Byfield,  her  bro- 
ther came  on  from  his  western  home  and  tried 
to  persuade  her  to  go  back  with  him  as  a  teacher. 
His  children  were  growing  up,  and  Chautau- 
qua  County  in  New  York  could  give  them  but  a 


140    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

poor  kind  of  schooling.  Love  drew  her  power- 
fully. But  her  friends  felt  that  her  preparation, 
elaborate  for  that  day,  fitted  her  for  a  position 
of  wider  usefulness  than  could  be  hers  as  the 
teacher  of  a  frontier  school,  and  in  the  end  her 
brother  went  home  alone.  Later  Rosina  Lyon 
followed  him  to  Stockton  and  taught  there  until 
her  marriage.  This  way,  too,  was  open  to  Mary. 
If  tradition  be  true  and  she  spoke  her  first  no 
on  the  hills  of  Buckland,  it  was  not  her  last. 
She  reached  her  definitive  decision  probably  at 
Ipswich,  when,  as  we  are  told  by  her  biograph- 
ers, an  opportunity  presented  itself  which  she 
thought  offered  as  great  a  chance  for  happiness 
as  marriage  was  ever  likely  to  bring  her.  After 
that,  though  men  might  come  and  men  might 
go,  they  occasioned  her  no  disquietude  of  mind. 
What  were  the  claims  and  attractions  of  the 
man  or  men  who  aspired  to  become  the  hus- 
band of  Mary  Lyon,  we  have  no  means  of  know- 
ing, but  it  is  impossible  to  resist  the  suspicion 
that  they,  solitary  or  several,  left  her  most  in 
love  with  girls. 

In  the  summer  of  1833  occurred  the  first  and 
last  breathing-space  of  her  busy  life,  and  with 


TEACHING  141 

one  exception  her  only  considerable  trip.  She 
went  for  change  and  recreation,  pushing  south 
as  far  as  Philadelphia  and  west  to  Detroit.  Let 
it  be  remembered  that  these  were  days  when  a 
traveler  left  Boston  by  stage  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  on  an  eighty-mile  ride  to  the 
docks  at  Norwich,  Conn.,  where  one  boarded 
the  night  boat  for  New  York.  The  entries  in 
her  journal  from  day  to  day  are  short,  mere 
clues  for  memory ;  but  on  the  last  pages  of  the 
book  she  jotted  descriptions  of  such  things  as 
she  seems  most  particularly  to  have  wished  to 
remember.  The  whole  shows  her  to  have  jour- 
neyed as  she  lived,  with  her  eyes  open  and  with 
an  objective  interest  in  all  she  saw.  I  find  a 
single  note  of  shopping,  but  she  was  such  an 
indefatigable  sightseer  that  it  is  not  surprising 
to  come  upon  the  line :  "  Sick  —  visited  by  the 
Dr.,"  scribbled  in  Philadelphia.  Sundays  she 
always  saved  intact,  spending  them  quietly  and 
going  once,  or  sometimes  oftener,  to  church. 
"  Visited  Cambridge  College,  library,  botanical 
garden,  and  Mt.  Auburn,"  is  one  of  the  earlier 
entries.  The  "burying  ground"  at  Princeton 
drew  her,  probably  to  the  grave  of  the  college's 


142    THE  LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

third  president.  She  stopped  at  West  Point; 
and  called  on  Mrs.  Emma  Willard,  with  whose 
seminary  she  would  indubitably  have  ac- 
quainted herself  while  a  student  at  the  Rensse- 
laer  School.  Here  are  notes  of  visits  to  hospi- 
tals, prisons,  porcelain  works,  schools  for  girls ; 
of  attendance  on  commencements,  as  passing 
westward  she  came  within  range  of  these  mid- 
summer festivities;  of  meetings  of  the  educa- 
tional society. 

But  she  had  her  holiday,  too.  It  is  the  things 
that  she  considered  memorable  which,  falling 
from  the  pen  of  an  educational  expert,  bespeak 
her  range.  A  colorful  panorama  of  the  city  of 
Mexico  delighted  her  with  its  scenic  effects  and 
she  investigated  its  mechanism.  She  knew  all 
about  the  George  Washington, "  the  most  splen- 
did boat  on  Lake  Erie,"  in  which  she  voyaged 
from  Detroit  to  Buffalo ;  rigging,  crew,  capa- 
city,— nothing  escaped  her  mention.  A  pas- 
sage of  minute  description  details  the  method 
of  building  a  big  bridge  which  was  one  of  the 
sights  near  Philadelphia.  Her  miscellany  of 
small  facts  includes  items  on  coal-mining  and 
Indian  pronunciations. 


TEACHING  143 

Wild  beauty  moved  her  deeply :  leaping  wa- 
terfalls, down  which  she  scrambled,  helping  her- 
self along  "  by  trees,  shrubs,  and  naked  roots" ; 
far-flung  mountain  views  in  the  Catskills  — 
"  peaks,  like  a  vast  ocean  of  luxuriant  green," 
"the  long  and  varying  course  of  the  Hudson 
whitened  with  sails."  She  noted  gleeful  talk 
and  laughter  within  the  mountain  house ;  with- 
out, "  the  sweet  stillness  reminds  you  of  a  gal- 
lery of  paintings."  Niagara,  where  she  spent  a 
day  and  a  half,  wrapped  her  in  glorious  content, 
though  she  owned  in  a  letter  to  Miss  Grant  that 
she  had  feared  disappointment  and  had  deter- 
mined to  have  no  "second-hand  emotions." 
Its  memory  she  put  away  among  her  dearest 
treasures.  Quite  as  one  would  expect,  she  fin- 
ished viewing  it  to  her  satisfaction,  both  in  day- 
light and  by  the  full  moon,  which  gave  her  sight 
of  a  lunar  bow ;  and  she  came  away  with  no  re- 
grets for  having  left  anything  undone,  though 
she  has  confessed  to  "a  feeling  like  that  of  a 
hungry  man,  who  sits  down  to  a  table  covered 
with  the  richest  dainties,  and  just  as  he  begins 
to  taste  is  driven  away  to  return  no  more."  Her 
method  is  so  spiced  with  personality  that  I  can- 


144    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY   LYON 

not  resist  quoting  from  her  conclusions.  "  Much, 
I  think,  depends  on  the  manner  of  visiting 
the  falls.  The  American  side  should  by  all 
means  be  visited  first,  and  I  think  the  visit  on 
the  Canada  side  should  be  reserved  for  the  con- 
clusion. All  the  little  broken  prospects  and  parts 
of  views  should  be  taken  from  the  American 
shore  and  Goat  Island,  and  sufficient  time  should 
be  allowed  for  the  mind  to  expand  and  enlarge 
and  prepare  to  take  in  the  greatness  of  the 
overwhelming  view  on  the  Canada  side." 

The  deepest  joy  of  the  summer  must  have 
come  with  the  renewing  of  family  acquaintance. 
The  Lyons  had  been  gradually  gathering  in 
Stockton  and  Fredonia,  New  York,  and  a  little 
colony  of  relatives  welcomed  her,  facing  west- 
ward, and  again  on  her  return.  There  were 
new  faces  to  be  learned,  familiar  ones  whose 
lines  she  must  bring  up  to  date  in  her  memory, 
and  a  blank  that  wrung  her  heart.  In  a  letter 
to  Miss  Grant  we  glimpse  a  laughing-faced  boy 
who  loves  to  be  with  his  new  aunt  and  talk  with 
her,  and  who  seems,  whenever  she  looks  at  him, 
to  body  forth  his  joyous  mother.  We  get  the 
impression  that  it  was  a  friendly  place  to  her, 


TEACHING  145 

this  West,  with  much  of  novelty  and  interest, 
but  with  little  of  strangeness,  for  she  was  a 
friendly  person.  Her  instincts  reached  out 
broadly.  The  chambermaid  at  Rochester  came 
within  the  radius  of  her  human  kindliness ;  the 
journal  notes  a  talk  and  the  girl's  name  and 
home  county.  And  all  along  the  way  she  met 
men  and  women  whom  she  knew,  some  of  the 
women  old  pupils  of  hers  in  New  Hampshire  or 
Massachusetts.  She  came  home  enriched  and 
refreshed. 

This  journey,  with  a  few  subsequent  months 
at  Ipswich,  cuts  cleanly  across  her  life.  It 
marks  the  end  of  her  career  as  a  teacher,  though 
she  did  not  break  loose  entirely  from  the  class- 
room. She  had  now  grown  to  the  full  stature 
of  her  womanhood.  Hereafter  changes  in  her 
are  less  outwardly  apparent.  Attention  must 
shift  to  watching  the  effect  which  her  eruptive 
energy  produced  on  the  configuration  of  the 
educational  landscape  of  her  times,  for  it  was 
no  less  revolutionary  a  change  than  this  which 
she  set  out  to  accomplish.  Toward  the  end  of 
the  summer  of- 1834,  she  wrote  her  youngest 
sister:  "I  am  about  to  embark  in  a  frail  boat  on 


146    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

a  boisterous  sea.  I  know  not  whither  I  shall  be 
driven,  nor  how  I  shall  be  tossed,  nor  to  what 
port  I  shall  aim." 


By  appending  a  few  mutilated  fragments  of 
Miss  Lyon's  talks  at  Buckland,  Ashfield,  and 
Ipswich,  one  may  not  hope  to  give  a  later  gen- 
eration any  adequate  conception  of  her  fluent, 
incisive  speech.  Yet  the  quality  of  the  woman 
is  rendered  most  graphically  in  her  own  words. 
Gathered  as  are  most  of  these  from  the  pen 
of  an  unwonted  young  note-taker  in  the  early 
thirties,  through  nearly  eighty  years  they  have 
preserved  their  freshness.  In  the  notes  on  teach- 
ing, a  reader  must  remember  that  she  spoke  to 
women  of  whom  many  would  find  places  in  the 
ungraded  public  schools. 

How  shall  we  lead  children  to  think  ?  In  a 
lesson  make  one  or  two  points  very  luminous, 
and  the  pupil  will  gain  more  than  if  this  light 
were  thrown  over  the  whole.  Don't  be  so  long 
as  to  be  tedious.  .  .  .  Teach  your  scholars  to 
use  definite  and  appropriate  language  —  have 


TEACHING  147 

them  use  mathematical  language  definitely. 
.  .  .  Give  out  topics.  Let  the  children  write 
a  specified  number  of  items  on  their  slates. 
Always  write  with  them.  A  teacher  should 
have  ability  to  trace  cause  and  effect.  Never 
adopt  any  plan  you  see  in  a  school,  unless 
you  see  the  object.  Have  lessons  recited 
correctly,  promptly,  and  clearly;  have  [them] 
short. 

In  familiar  parts  ask  little  children  ques- 
tions. Be  careful  not  to  have  them  raise  their 
hands  too  much.  Don't  ask  them,  "  How  many 
of  you  think  so  ?"  to  questions  they  all  know. 
Mix  new  facts  with. old  ones.  Have  more  than 
half  of  the  questions  such  that  all  can  answer 
them.  Don't  let  children  use  vulgarisms ;  have 
them  use  simple  common  terms  rather  than 
technical  terms.  ...  A  little  child  will  not  re- 
cite well  unless  he  has  a  definite  thing  to  learn. 
Give  a  little  dull  stupid  boy  of  ten  years  old 
two  or  three  pages  to  read  and  understand  so 
that  he  can  answer  questions  -  -  he  will  not 
learn  anything.  Have  little  children  study  a 
very  little  while,  not  more  than  fifteen  minutes 
in  the  morning  and  fifteen  in  the  afternoon. 


148    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Give  them  something  definite  and  have  them 
learn  it  perfectly.  To  lead  them  to  learn  their 
lessons  perfectly,  have  the  lesson  short  at  first. 
Learn  to  despatch  business ;  learn  to  ask  a  great 
many  questions  in  fifteen  minutes.  Gain  influ- 
ence over  the  class.  Give  proper  commendation 
when  a  class  recites  well. 

To  interest  scholars,  the  teacher  should  be 
interested  and  should  appear  interested.  A 
teacher  may  be  interested,  however  dry  the 
study.  A  teacher  should  never  say  the  studies 
are  so  dry  arid  dull,  and  she  has  been  over  them 
so  many  times,  she  cannot  feel  interested.  .  .  . 
Let  your  scholars  see  you  expect  they  will  do 
well.  Have  perfect  system  in  lessons,  but  in 
little  things  have  variety.  Sometimes  turn 
aside  from  the  common  course  in  reciting  - 
have  something  different.  Always  have  some- 
thing which  is  not  in  the  lesson,  but  have  it 
short.  Always  expect  some  strange  oddity  in 
school.  The  school  must  not  be  made  a  place  of 
literary  amusement.  Don't  pledge  your  schol- 
ars that  you  are  going  to  make  the  lessons 
interesting,  let  it  come  in  accidentally.  Be  care- 
ful not  to  give  more  explanation  than  neces- 


TEACHING  149 

sary.  Lead  them  to  help  themselves.  .  .  .  Avoid 
giving  extra  lessons  for  punishment. 

How  to  lead  scholars  to  remember :  learn  to 
discriminate.  The  teacher  should  discriminate 
and  teach  the  scholars  to.  Ask  the  more  im- 
portant questions  over  more  than  once.  By 
being  definite  and  too  minute,  a  great  deal  is 
lost.  Remember  things  in  round  numbers. 
Bring  in  a  definite  point  or  principle  in  every 
lesson,  and  dwell  a  few  moments  upon  it ;  make 
it  very  clear  and  then  go  on  with  the  lesson  with 
rapidity.  .  .  .  Have  comparisons  and  con- 
trasts. [In  history]  compare  one  character  with 
another.  .  .  .  Have  all  scholars  exert  as  much 
mental  effort,  but  [the]  younger  should  exert 
it  less  time;  then  they  should  have  things  to 
amuse  them  and  promote  their  health. 

To  teach  children  to  learn  fast,  have  some- 
thing for  them  to  learn  as  quick  as  they  can. 
Give  them  a  list  of  words,  or  the  Latin  nu- 
merals, or  something  similar,  and  give  them  a 
few  minutes  to  study  and  then  call  upon  them 
to  recite.  The  best  thing  for  them  [to]  under- 
stand is  mathematics. 

The  manner  of  sitting  affects  a  recitation 


150    THE   LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

very  much :  leaning  and  lolling,  etc.  are  very 
foreign  to  literature.  Learn  to  sit  with  energy. 
A  scholar  who  leans  and  lolls  when  she  recites 
will  jumble  over  her  lesson  and  blunder  along. 
The  teacher  should  stand,  herself.  Have  young 
children  stand.  Three  or  four  smart  scholars 
will  always  raise  their  hands,  but  you  must  be 
careful  not  always  to  call  upon  them. 

By  general  instruction  gain  the  attention  of 
the  whole  school ;  bring  in  every  scholar,  even 
the  dullest.  Excite  public  interest.  Have  every 
scholar  feel  interested  in  the  school,  [and  let] 
a  patriotic  feeling  expand  their  minds,  enlarge 
their  hearts,  and  make  them  bigger  than  their 
mothers  and  fathers. 

The  two  or  three  last  weeks  are  of  very  great 
importance  to  every  scholar.  If  they  are  well 
improved,  they  are  like  clinching  the  nail  after 
it  has  been  driving  six  months.  If  it  is  not 
clinched,  it  will  not  take  more  than  six  months 
for  it  to  work  out,  and  then  it  will  be  worse 
than  before,  because  there  will  be  a  vacancy. 

It  is  very  important  a  teacher  should  not  be 
schoolified.  Don't  talk  about  your  school  every- 
where. 


TEACHING  151 

After  the  school  was  opened,  we  had  a  talk 
from  Miss  Lyon.  She  said  we  must  make  it  a 
special  object  to  begin  right.  Our  characters 
will  be  greatly  influenced  by  the  course  we  pur- 
sue this  winter.  Habit  is  more  powerful  than 
principle.  We  must  not  try  to  appear  learned 
and  superior  and  strive  to  be  the  centre  of  the 
circle.  Avoid  saying  smart  things.  Fear  not. 
Just  do  our  duty.  .  .  .  Strive  to  promote  the 
happiness  of  others.  Cultivate  interest  in  one 
another.  Endeavor  not  to  impart  our  bad 
feelings.  Wear  a  cheerful  face.  Be  quiet  in 
the  street.  A  young  lady  who  is  ready  to  do 
her  part  is  much  less  noticed  than  one  who  is 
not. 

Early  rising,  young  ladies,  is  not  rising  at  any 
particular  hour,  for  what  is  early  for  one  may 
be  late  for  another.  Early  rising  for  any  indi- 
vidual is  rising  at  the  earliest  time  proper  for 
her  under  the  existing  circumstances.  The  hour 
of  rising  should  not  be  decided  on  in  the  de- 
licious dreaminess  of  the  half- waking,  and  more 
than  half-dozing,  state  of  one's  morning  slum- 
bers ;  but  the  decision  should  be  made  when  you 


152    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

are  up  and  awake,  with  all  your  powers  in  vig- 
orous exercise.  In  deciding,  you  must  take  into 
view  your  age.  Young  persons,  who  have  not 
fully  attained  their  growth,  need  more  sleep 
than  those  of  mature  age.  You  must  consider 
the  state  of  your  health.  Feeble  persons,  with 
constitutions  made  to  run  only  half  the  three 
score  years  and  ten,  need  more  sleep  than  the 
strong  and  healthy.  Some  allowance,  too, 
must  be  made  for  the  temperaments  of  differ- 
ent individuals.  Some  require  more  sleep  than 
others,  but  those  who  need  a  large  amount 
should  take  their  additional  sleep  in  the  early 
part  of  the  night.  Who  was  it  that  said,  "  One 
hour's  sleep  before  midnight  is  worth  two 
after  ?"  Yes,  Dr.  D wight,  a  man  of  large  ex- 
perience and  careful  observation.  Now,  young 
ladies,  you  are  here  at  great  expense.  Your 
board  and  tuition  cost  a  great  deal,  and  your 
time  ought  to  be  worth  more  than  both ;  but  in 
order  to  get  an  equivalent  for  the  money  and 
time  you  are  spending,  you  must  be  systematic, 
and  that  is  impossible  unless  you  have  a  regu- 
lar hour  for  rising.  If  that  hour  is  five,  and  you 
are  on  your  feet  before  the  clock  has  done  strik- 


TEACHING  153 

ing,  then  you  are  punctual ;  but  if  you  lie  five 
minutes,  or  even  one,  after  that  hour  passes, 
you  are  tardy  and  you  must  lose  a  little  respect 
for  yourself  in  consequence.  Persons  who  run 
around  all  day  after  the  half-hour  they  lost  in 
the  morning  never  accomplish  much.  You  may 
know  them  by  a  rip  in  the  glove,  a  string  pinned 
to  the  bonnet,  a  shawl  left  on  the  balustrade, 
which  they  had  no  time  to  hang  up,  they  were  in 
such  a  hurry  to  catch  their  lost  thirty  minutes. 
You  will  see  them  opening  their  books  and  try- 
ing to  study  at  the  time  of  general  exercises  in 
school.  But  it  is  a  fruitless  race  —  they  never 
will  overtake  their  lost  half-hour.  Good  men, 
from  Abraham  to  Washington,  have  been  early 
risers.  .  .  . 

Now,  young  ladies,  I  want  every  one  of  you 
to  fix  on  an  hour  of  rising  for  a  week  to  come. 
Be  sure  not  to  fix  on  too  early  an  hour,  for  it 
would  not  injure  your  character  nearly  so  much 
to  make  a  mistake  and  decide  to  rise  at  six, 
when  you  might  rise  at  half-past  five  without 
any  injury  to  your  health,  as  to  fail  of  meeting 
your  own  appointment. 


154    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

We  have  no  more  right  to  misuse  the  body 
than  to  take  a  neighbor's  property.  ...  If  all 
the  human  race  attended  to  the  body  as  they 
ought,  health  would  be  so  general  that  sickness 
would  be  an  accidental  circumstance.  ...  A 
case  of  sickness  would  be  like  one  deformed 
tree  in  a  well-managed  orchard. 

The  present  race  of  females  are  very  fee- 
ble ;  we  must  try  to  have  the  next  generation 
stronger  and  more  healthy.  If  a  feeble  mother, 
when  she  comes  from  her  bed-chamber,  can 
hardly  stir,  and  looks  so  sick,  and  has  no  spirits, 
and  is  afraid  to  have  Susan  go  out  for  fear  she 
will  wet  her  feet  or  the  breeze  will  touch  poor 
Mary  too  roughly,  her  children  will  soon  be  as 
sickly  as  herself.  But  if,  on  the  contrary,  she 
looks  happy  and  cheerful  in  the  morning  and 
does  the  little  she  does  do  with  a  good  grace, 
and  is  not  afraid  to  have  the  breath  of  heaven 
touch  her  children,  they  will  be  strong,  healthy, 
and  vigorous,  their  intellectual  powers  will 
brighten  and  grow  and  beam  forth  from  their 
eyes,  and  they  will  be  much  more  likely  to  be 
good  .  .  .  and  will  do  ten  times  the  amount  of 
good  in  the  world. 


TEACHING  155 

Men  judge  of  the  whole  sex  by  their  own 
wives. 

In  deviating  from  custom  avoid  everything 
odd.  Respect  fashions,  if  they  are  modest,  even 
if  you  do  not  follow  them.  Avoid  rigidity  and 
declaiming  against  articles. 


Never  speak,  unless  you  have  something  to 
say.  Never  occupy  a  long  time  in  saying  what 
could  be  said  in  a  few  minutes.  If  you  look 
a  sentence  before  you  utter  it,  it  will  not  be 
necessary  [to  speak]. 

It  is  the  mark  of  a  weak  mind  to  be  continu- 
ally comparing  the  sexes  and  disputing  and 
making  out  the  female  sex  as  something  great 
and  superior. 

Giving  ought  not  to  depend  on  eloquence ;  it 
should  be  the  result  of  cold  judgment.  It  is 
better  to  have  a  settled  plan.  .  .  .  Don't  give 
so  much  but  your  benevolence  will  hold  out  all 
winter,  and  all  the  year,  and  as  long  as  you  live. 
.  .  .  People  can  do  all  their  duty.  When  they 


156     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY   LYON 

have  given  all  they  ought,  they  do  wrong  if 
they  give  any  more. 

Never  neglect  your  heart  because  your  con- 
duct is  wrong;  neither  neglect  your  conduct 
because  your  heart  is  wrong ;  but  purify  foun- 
tain and  stream  together. 

Those  who  have  the  care  of  children  fre- 
quently instil  prejudice  into  them ;  bring  some 
truth  before  them  so  often  they  get  tired  of  it. 
.  .  .  Mother,  exceeding  careful  of  a  daughter's 
health,  speaks  to  her  every  little  while  about 
it,  —  prudence ;  caution ;  damp  feet,  —  says  so 
much  about  it  daughter  gets  tired,  treats  it 
with  scorn,  minds  nothing  about  it.  Some- 
times this  is  owing  to  the  manner.  ...  I  pre- 
sume every  one  of  us  has  some  association  with 
some  very  important  subject  by  which  we  have 
gained  a  disgust.  .  .  .  We  must  act  right ;  per- 
haps after  a  long  time  we  shall  get  rid  of  it. 
.  .  .  You  can  do  all  that  is  required,  however 
it  may  be  as  to  feeling.  .  .  .  Goodness  does 
not  depend  on  loving  duty  but  doing  it. 


TEACHING  157 

Heaven  is  not  a  rest  from  delightful  labor. 

There  is  a  great  mistake  in  concerning  our- 
selves with  that  part  of  our  work  which  belongs 
to  God.  We  are  to  use  the  means;  we  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  success. 


CHAPTER  V 

BREAKING   GROUND   FOR   MOUNT   HOLYOKE 

• 

"!T  is  one  of  the  nicest  of  mental  operations 
to  distinguish  between  what  is  very  difficult  and 
what  is  utterly  impossible,"  Miss  Lyon  wrote 
Miss  Grant.  The  problem  for  a  given  case,  del- 
icate in  the  second  solution  and  the  third,  in 
the  first  puts  a  person,  as  Mr.  William  James 
would  say,  completely  to  his  trumps.  What 
has  been  done,  one  may  confidently  predict  can 
be  done  again.  It  is  the  initial  venture  that 
wears  the  face  of  hazard.  Yet  Mary  Lyon 
never  attempted  anything  which  she  was  not 
reasonably  sure  that  she  could  carry  through. 
Her  daring,  after  all,  resolves  itself  into  a  mar- 
vel ously  acute  grasp  of  the  factors  entering 
into  a  situation,  among  which  she  did  not 
through  mock  modesty  fail  to  reckon  her  own 
personality.  She  accepted  herself  simply  and 
without  complacency.  "  True  humility  consists, 
not  in  self-depreciation,"  she  said,  "but  in  a 


BREAKING   GROUND  159 

just  estimate  of  one's  own  powers  or  charac- 
ter." Time  had  taught  her  fully  to  rest  on  her 
abilities.  She  knew,  too,  how  to  lean  on  some- 
thing bigger  than  herself.  "  All  that  ought  to  be 
done  can  be  done,"  she  declared  with  Kant. 

What  she  essayed  to  do  was  to  take  the  edu- 
cation of  women  out  of  the  field  of  business 
ventures  and  secure  for  it  the  same  permanent 
provision  that  two  centuries  of  the  American 
public  had  given  the  training  of  men.  Since  the 
inception  of  Harvard,  colleges  on  stable  founda- 
tions had  multiplied ;  but  as  yet  "  the  vital  prin- 
ciple," as  Miss  Lyon  phrased  it,  was  lacking 
from  the  higher  schooling  of  girls.  Their  teach- 
ers, like  children  playing  on  the  seashore,  had 
built  houses  of  sand.  They  built  them  still. 
Investigation  reveals  a  state  of  inextricable 
confusion  in  the  affairs  of  these  early  schools, 
whether  incorporated  or  not;  their  lines  of 
cleavage  are  dubiously  marked.  As  late  as  the 
spring  of  1837  Miss  Lyon  wrote  of  the  wide  use- 
fulness of  certain  contemporary  schools :  "  This 
may  be  very  great  for  a  time,  where  there  is  no 
principle  of  perpetual  life,  as  is  the  case  with 
some  of  our  most  distinguished  female  semi- 


160    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

naries.  Amidst  all  their  prosperity  they  have 
no  solid  foundation,  and  in  themselves  no  sure 
principle  of  continued  existence."  A  few  years 
earlier  she  had  said :  "Those  which  appear  to 
have  the  strongest  claim  to  such  a  standing  are 
so  dependent  on  their  present  teachers,  and 
their  funds  and  accommodations  are  to  such 
an  extent  the  property  of  private  individuals, 
that  it  would  not  be  safe  to  predict  even  their 
existence  the  next  century." 

Do  not  women  as  well  as  men  need  public 
aid  in  getting  an  education  ?  she  questioned. 
On  certain  persons  who  had  asked  her  help  in 
planning  a  new  school  for  girls  she  commented 
in  a  letter  to  Miss  Grant :  "  They  have  no  idea 
of  doing  it  except  by  shares,  with  the  expecta- 
tion of  an  income.  They  look  at  schools  gen- 
erally just  as  they  would  at  mercantile  busi- 
ness." 

The  standpoint  furnished  her  with  the  sub- 
ject for  a  witty  cartoon.  "  Suppose  a  gentleman, 
having  a  large  family  depending  on  him  for  sup- 
port, finds  his  health  not  sufficient  for  the  du- 
ties of  his  profession.  Casting  his  eye  around, 
he  looks  on  the  office  of  a  president  of  a  college 


BREAKING  GROUND  161 

as  affording  more  ample  means,  and  a  more 
pleasant  and  respectable  situation  for  his  fam- 
ily, than  any  other  he  can  command.  But  a 
new  college  must  be  founded  to  furnish  him  the 
place.  He  selects  a  large  village  in  New  Eng- 
land, or  at  the  West,  or  at  the  South,  as  may 
best  favor  the  accomplishment  of  his  object, 
and  where  he  can  find  buildings  which  he  can 
buy  or  rent  on  some  conditions,  though  they 
may  be  far  from  being  adapted  to  such  an  end. 
He  purchases  his  apparatus,  or  has  none,  and 
procures  professors  on  his  own  responsibility. 
Thus  prepared,  he  commences,  making  his 
charge  to  the  students  such  as  will  meet  the 
rent  of  buildings,  furniture,  and  apparatus,  and 
the  salaries  of  his  professors,  besides  furnish- 
ing a  handsome  support  to  his  own  family. 
What  could  such  a  college  do  to  encourage 
thorough  and  systematic  education  in  our  coun- 
try ?  But  this  is  scarcely  a  caricature  of  the 
manner  in  which  some  female  seminaries  have 
been  founded.  And  where  the  benevolent  prin- 
ciple has  existed,  it  has  been  confined  to  indi- 
viduals, as  if  the  trustees  of  a  college  should 
depend  upon  the  generosity  of  the  president  to 


furnish  the  students  gratuitously  with  all  their 
facilities  for  improvement,  instead  of  obtaining 
them  by  public  benevolence." 

To  conserve  present  gains  and  to  make  sure 
of  future  advancement,  she  saw  clearly  that 
higher  schools  for  women  must  be  "founded, 
endowed,  and  sustained."  Full  of  the  ripe  fla- 
vor of  the  woman  is  this  passage  from  a  hastily 
written  manuscript:  "Some  are  devising  one 
way,  some  another,  to  awaken  public  attention 
on  the  subject.  But  as  yet  much  more  has  been 
felt  and  said  than  done.  Some  would  have  the 
subject  written  into  notice,  others  would  have  it 
talked  into  notice.  Others  again,  who  have 
much  more  confidence  in  facts  than  in  theory, 
would  above  all  have  one  example  given  of  a 
seminary  that  is  founded  and  endowed  by  the 
benevolent  public.  But  the  great  desideratum 
is  to  obtain  funds  ample  enough  to  found  one 
seminary  which  would  furnish  the  public  with 
a  fair  example  of  its  peculiar  benefits.  Funds 
for  a  second  or  a  third  could  undoubtedly  be 
more  easily  obtained  than  for  the  first." 

As  she  intimates,  the  thought  of  permanence 
was  not  new.  Things  seldom  happen  out  of  a 


BREAKING   GROUND  163 

clear  sky.  Years  of  eventless  agitations,  of  slow 
and  toilsome  approximations  had  set  the  stage. 
Time  waited  for  the  great  actor  visibly  to  body 
forth  ideas  that  were  as  yet  held  in  solution  in 
the  air.  Mrs.  Emma  Willard's  "  Address  to  the 
Public,"  presented  to  the  New  York  legislature 
in  1819,  asked  for  state  aid  in  founding  perma- 
nent seminaries  for  girls  which  should  be  at  once 
adequately  equipped  and  "  secured  against  ad- 
venturers of  fortune."  She  based  her  claim 
on  women's  value  to  the  nation  as  teachers 
and  mothers.  Her  sketch  provided  for  a 
three  years'  course  of  systematic  "literary" 
study,  supplemented  by  optional  "  ornamental 
branches"  and  by  "housewifery,"  with  atten- 
tion to  "religion  and  morality."  Trustees  were 
to  be  responsible  "  to  provide  suitable  instruc- 
tion," the  only  duty  she  specifically  assigned 
them.  "The  idea  of  a  college  for  males  will 
naturally  be  associated  with  a  seminary  insti- 
tuted and  endowed  by  the  public ;  and  the  ab- 
surdity of  sending  ladies  to  college  may,  at  first 
thought,  strike  every  one  to  whom  this  subject 
shall  be  proposed,"  she  writes,  hastening  to  dis- 
pel "the  phantom  of  a  college-learned  lady." 


164    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Despite  Mrs.  Willard's  verbs,  her  "Plan" 
gives  no  evidence  that  she  was  thinking  of  a 
school  which  should  be  either  wholly  a  public 
trust  or  the  exclusive  property  of  the  state. 

Widely  circulated  among  politicians  and  ed- 
ucators at  home  and  abroad,  the  Address  pro- 
voked much  thought.  In  1825  a  bill  was  intro- 
duced into  the  legislature  of  Georgia  entitled, 
"An  act  to  establish  a  public  seat  of  learning 
in  this  State  for  the  education  of  females." 
Joseph  Emerson,  in  a  lecture  delivered  three 
years  earlier,  quoted  from  Mrs.  Willard's  writ- 
ings. In  the  same  address  we  find  him  indulg- 
ing the  "enrapturing  hope"  that  before  long 
schools  for  women,  "very  greatly  superior  to 
the  present,  will  not  only  exist  but  be  consid- 
ered as  important  as  are  now  our  colleges  for 
the  education  of  our  sons.  The  distinguished 
honor  is  probably  reserved  for  our  rising  re- 
public to  exhibit  to  the  world  examples  of  such 
female  seminaries  as  the  world  has  never  wit- 
nessed. But  where  such  an  institution  shall  be 
erected,  by  whom  it  shall  be  founded,  and  by 
whom  instructed,  it  is  yet  for  the  hand  of  Provi- 
dence to  develop." 


BREAKING  GROUND  165 

To  trace  here  a  direct  transference  of  thought 
might  be  logical  and  chronological,  but  it  would 
certainly  be  unwarranted.  The  notion  of  per- 
manence could  hardly  have  failed  to  occur 
to  any  earnest  teacher  of  girls  in  the  early 
nineteenth  century.  Many  men  and  women 
dreamed  dreams.  A  popular  theory  holds  that 
ideas  which  make  no  practical  difference  are 
negligible. 

Yet  the  most  notable  of  these  early  teachers 
sought  persistently  to  have  their  thoughts  even- 
tuate in  action.  Mr.  Emerson  proves  an  excep- 
tion. The  man  himself  was  his  school,  and  he 
seems  never  to  have  sought  to  prolong  its  life 
beyond  his  own.  From  Byfield  to  Saugus,  from 
Saugus  to  Wethersfield,  Connecticut,  it  jour- 
neyed with  him,  gradually  lowering  the  age  of 
its  clientele  and  ceasing  altogether  shortly  be- 
fore his  death. 

Mrs.  Emma  Willard,  encouraged  by  the  New 
York  legislature's  reception  of  her  "Plan,"  in 
1819  moved  from  Middlebury,  Vermont,  to 
Waterford,  New  York,  where  an  academy  had 
been  incorporated  for  her  use  and  granted  a 
share  of  the  state's  "literary  fund."  The  re- 


166    THE   LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

commendation  of  five  thousand  dollars  en- 
dowment, reported  to  the  legislators,  was  de- 
feated, and  the  next  year  the  regents  decided 
that  the  academy  had  no  right  to  receive  any 
part  of  the  state  money.  Twelve  months  later 
the  trustees  petitioned,  again  in  vain.  That 
year  Mrs.  Willard  moved  by  invitation  to  Troy, 
of  whose  corporation  she  rented  the  building 
and  lot  of  ground  which  became  the  nucleus  of 
a  rapidly  growing  plant.  An  appeal  to  the  legis- 
lature failed  to  secure  endowment,  and  alone, 
paying  yearly  rentals,  she  built  up  the  famous 
school  for  which  in  1837  she  at  last  gained  in- 
corporation, the  city  having  conveyed  to  the 
trustees  of  the  seminary  just  enough  of  its  pro- 
perty to  enable  it  to  pass  under  the  authority  of 
the  regents  and  so  become  entitled  to  share  in 
the  state  fund.  It  is  said  that  Mrs.  Willard  her- 
self furnished  the  trustees  with  money  to  secure 
the  transfer.  The  fact  of  the  presence  in  the 
seminary  of  many  non-paying  pupils  witnesses 
to  its  having  been  essentially  private ;  and  when 
from  his  mother's  hands  Mr.  John  Willard 
took  over  the  administration,  he  again  leased 
from  the  city.  In  1872  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John 


BREAKING   GROUND  167 

Willard  retired.  But  a  school  with  such  a  her- 
itage could  not  be  allowed  to  lapse.  The  fol- 
lowing year  the  trustees  succeeded  in  raising 
money  to  complete  their  purchase,  "and  the 
perpetuity  of  the  school  was  assured."1  Dur- 
ing twenty-three  years  continued  merely  for 
day  pupils,  in  1895  it  was  reorganized,  re- 
turning to  the  earlier  traditions  under  the  name 
the  Emma  Willard  School. 

Academically,  Mrs.  Willard  believed  in  a 
combination  of  solidity  and  grace.  Catalogues 
of  the  forties  and  sixties  reveal  a  large  number 
of  studies,  but  no  organized  curriculum.  "Di- 
plomas are  awarded  to  pupils  having  credit- 
ably passed  examination  in  the  full  course  of 
English  studies,  with  Latin  or  one  of  the  mod- 
ern languages."  No  entrance  requirements  are 
set  down,  and  "  pupils  are  admitted  at  any 
time,"  but  the  earlier  catalogues  specify  attend- 
ance on  the  public  examinations  at  the  end  of 
the  term. 

Miss  Catherine  Beecher  fared  less  fortunately 
than  Mrs.  Willard.  Beginning  modestly  over 
a  store,  she  moved  into  the  basement  of  a 
1  Emma  Willard  and  Her  Pupils,  p.  815. 


168    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

church,  where,  as  she  says,  "nearly  one  hun- 
dred young  ladies  had  only  one  room,  no  globe 
or  large  maps,  and,  most  of  the  time,  no  black- 
board and  only  two  teachers."  These  teachers 
met  the  requirements  of  their  community  by 
hearing  a  rapid  succession  of  parrot-like  recita- 
tions run  through  the  day  "at  the  rate  of  one 
for  every  eight,  ten,  or  fifteen  minutes."  The 
unscholarly  work  that  resulted  drove  Miss 
Beecher  to  a  larger  plan.  But  her  proposition 
for  a  commodious  study-hall,  a  library,  a  lec- 
ture-room and  recitation  rooms,  amused  "the 
leading  gentlemen  of  Hartford"  whose  aid  she 
invoked.  Women  of  influence  then  committed 
themselves  to  its  approval,  and  in  the  year  when 
Miss  Grant  went  to  Ipswich,  Hartford  Semi- 
nary passed  into  incorporated  life  in  a  roomy 
building.  Eight  teachers  were  installed,  each 
responsible  for  not  more  than  one  or  two  sub- 
jects. Pupil  assistants  eked  out  this  force  of  in- 
struction. Recitation  periods  stretched  to  hour 
lengths.  Miss  Harriet  Beecher's  "  composition ' ' 
work  appears  particularly  notable  for  its  antici- 
pation of  modern  English  modes.  Subject  to 
Miss  Beecher's  oversight,  families  in  the  city 


BREAKING   GROUND  169 

continued  to  house  non-resident  students  and 
teachers.  But  the  burden  of  administration, 
academic  and  social,  broke  the  principal's 
health.  "I  was  obliged  to  train  most  of  my 
teachers  as  well  as  myself,"  she  said.  Alone, 
she  could  not  go  on.  Wishing  to  keep  what  she 
had  won  —  for  Hartford  Seminary  had  roused 
admiring  comment  even  in  Europe  —  and  to 
reach  out  toward  a  broader  life,  she  broached 
to  Miss  Grant  the  proposal  of  a  merger,  and 
to  the  citizens  of  Hartford  the  subject  of  en- 
dowment. Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  reenforced  his 
daughter's  representations.  But  after  much 
weighing  of  pros  and  cons,  the  uncertainty  of 
success  in  securing  the  permanence  of  even 
one  school,  and  the  wide  usefulness  of  Ipswich 
Seminary,  decided  Miss  Grant  to  decline.  Hart- 
ford failed  to  treat  the  plea  for  endowment  seri- 
ously, and  so,  for  lack  of  "  half  the  funds  be- 
stowed on  our  poorest  colleges  for  young  men," 
Miss  Beecher  saw  the  ground  that  she  had  toil- 
somely gained  lost  in  less  time  than  it  had  taken 
to  win  it.  The  seminary's  decline  speaks  for 
the  truth  of  Miss  Lyon's  caricature.  "  My  suc- 
cessor," wrote  Miss  Beecher,  "though  an  able 


170    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY   LYON 

teacher,  was  a  man  who  had  a  family  to  sup- 
port and  could  not  use  all  the  school  income, 
as  I  had  done,  to  retain  the  highest  class  of 
teachers." 

"  If  you  can  put  into  operation  a  permanent 
school  on  right  principles,  you  may  well  afford 
to  give  up  your  life  when  you  have  done  it," 
Joseph  Emerson  told  Zilpah  Grant,  fearful  on 
account  of  her  health  to  close  with  the  offer 
from  Adams  Academy.  Despite  its  bequest  of 
four  thousand  dollars  and  its  ambition  for 
longevity,  the  academy  at  Derry  seems  to  have 
been,  like  the  seminary  at  Ipswich  and  count- 
less others  of  that  day  and  since,  the  property 
of  a  joint-stock  company  whose  affairs  were 
managed  by  a  board  of  trustees.  At  Derry  the 
trustees  paid  the  teachers ;  a  document  shows 
that  they  offered  Miss  Lyon  the  inviting  salary 
of  six  dollars  a  week  and  board  to  induce  her  to 
return  for  a  fifth  year.  The  Ipswich  trustees 
leased  the  building  to  Miss  Grant,  rent  free,  on 
condition  that  she  furnish  the  requisite  instruc- 
tion. The  principal  supplied  most  of  the  appa- 
ratus and  the  library.  As  early  as  the  initial 
year  at  Derry,  Miss  Lyon  offered  to  help  her 


BREAKING   GROUND  171 

friend  furnish  a  chemical  laboratory.  Such  di- 
vision of  ownership  appears,  upon  their  sepa- 
ration, to  have  put  Miss  Grant  in  Miss  Lyon's 
debt;  and  when  in  1839  she  herself  left  the 
seminary,  the  care  of  this  "school  furniture" 
pressed  heavily  upon  her.  Eventually  she  gave 
it  to  Monticello  Seminary,  together  with  a  stu- 
dents'-aid  fund  which  had  latterly  been  in  use 
at  Ipswich. 

Her  withdrawal  was,  like  Miss  Beecher's, 
due  to  overwork.  Collapse  came  inevitably 
under  a  system  which,  while  withholding  the 
necessary  facilities,  recklessly  piled  on  one  per- 
son responsibility  for  housing,  instructing,  and 
moulding  the  characters  of  a  rapidly  changing 
procession  of  students,  in  a  day  when  it  was 
hard,  as  Miss  Grant  said,  to  keep  "even  one 
teacher  longer  than  the  time  necessary  for  her 
to  become  independent  in  her  own  depart- 
ment." Not  long  after  she  left,  the  school  was 
sold,  becoming  the  property  of  its  new  princi- 
pal. 

Through  all  these  years  Miss  Grant  never 
quite  gave  over  the  hope  Mr.  Emerson  had 
voiced.  Miss  Lyon  at  first  was  little  inclined  to 


172    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

accent  permanence.  She  was  young,  and  life 
stretched  long  before  her.  "Never  mind  the 
brick  and  mortar,"  she  cried,  "  only  let  us  have 
living  minds  to  work  upon."  But  her  friend 
continued  to  talk  to  her  about  a  seminary  whose 
buildings,  library,  and  apparatus  should  be 
held  as  were  those  of  colleges  for  men.  And 
time,  revealing  more  and  more  intimately  the 
imperious  need  of  her  generation,  acquainted 
her  also  with  the  thought  of  death,  not  as  some 
far  impersonal  event,  but  as  an  actual  ceasing 
of  her  activity  upon  the  earth.  Some  day  she 
could  no  longer  reach  those  living  minds.  What 
then  ?  So  she  passed  into  the  recognition  that 
fully  to  secure  its  fruits,  a  life  must  relate  itself 
with  the  future.  Having  admitted  the  idea,  she 
put  herself  unreservedly  at  its  disposal,  and 
furthered  her  friend's  work  for  Ipswich  Sem- 
inary with  growing  enthusiasm. 

Their  plans  included  "a  seminary  building 
free  of  rent,"  containing  a  large  hall,  laboratory, 
library,  reading-room,  and  several  recitation 
rooms,  furnished  with  books  and  apparatus ;  a 
roomy  residence  hall  surrounded  by  a  few  acres 
of  ground ;  and  the  commitment  of  all  money 


BREAKING  GROUND  173 

matters  to  "an  agent  appointed  by  the  trus- 
tees, to  whom  he  should  be  responsible."  The 
matter  was  agitated,  prospective  trustees  ap- 
pointed, —  Rufus  Choate  among  them,  —  and 
public  apathy  discovered.  A  project  for  turn- 
ing the  movement  toward  founding  a  New 
England  seminary  for  women- teachers  met  a 
like  response.  In  the  process  certain  ideas  got 
into  wider  circulation :  notions  of  continuity, 
sounder  scholarship,  older  students,  education 
for  social  service,  better  housing,  less  narrowly 
local  viewpoints.  Miss  Lyon  advocated  a  cen- 
tral position  for  the  school,  and  for  each  stu- 
dent a  room  "  exclusively  her  own."  Quite  how 
radical  was  the  last  provision,  the  twentieth 
century  may  not  easily  gauge. 

For  a  while  she  favored  proving  the  feasi- 
bility of  the  scheme  in  temporary  quarters  at 
Amherst,  where  the  buildings  of  Mount  Pleas- 
ant had  fallen  vacant.  To  attend  college  lec- 
tures would  be  of  advantage  to  the  young  wo- 
men, and  an  advance  by  stepping-stones  was 
better  than  no  move  at  all.  Make  a  start,  she 
urged,  then  call  on  people  to  perpetuate  it ;  "You 
know  this  is  the  way  everything  is  done  in  New 


174    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

England."  But  after  all,  removal  from  Ipswich 
on  these  terms  looked  too  rash  to  hazard.  Even 
her  "highest  hopes"  could  see  nothing  more 
stable  than  rent  "  collected  by  dollars  and  cents 
from  the  farmers  and  mechanics  all  over  Frank- 
lin and  Hampshire  counties  in  order  to  make 
the  experiment  of  three  years."  And  there 
were  people,  as  always,  who  missed  the  point ; 
she  had  to  "pull  down  some  of  their  castles. 
Their  plan,  at  best,  would  make  the  institution 
all  a  personal  affair,"  she  wrote  Miss  Grant," 
for  much  of  the  activity  went  forward  during 
the  chief's  absence. 

In  the  early  spring  of  1833  the  "board  of 
prospective  trustees"  met  and  dissolved.  An 
attempt  during  the  following  months  to  revive 
the  project  also  failed.  The  prime  mover  in  this 
posthumous  essay  was  an  enthusiastic  minister, 
"a  young  man  and  not  worn  out,"  whom  Miss 
Lyon  frankly  warned  of  his  liability  to  incur  the 
epithet  "chimerical."  The  flagging  of  her  own 
victorious  health  probably  contributed  to  her 
discouragement.  A  permanent  plant  for  the 
higher  education  of  women  looked  far  off  to 
her  that  spring ;  she  gave  the  country  twenty, 


BREAKING   GROUND  175 

perhaps  fifty,  years  to  grow  up  to  the  thought. 
"The  public  as  such,"  she  wrote  Miss  Grant, 
"know  nothing  of  any  consequence  about  the 
object,  and  care  less  than  they  know." 

The  plan  seemed  dead  and  buried,  but  she 
could  not  lay  its  ghost.  All  summer  from  place 
to  place  it  followed  her,  crying  out  in  the  voice 
of  first-hand  acquaintance  with  much  that  she 
had  heard  before.  Ever  stronger  hands  the  idea 
laid  on  her  imagination,  until,  if  she  could,  she 
would  not  have  loosed  its  hold.  Her  appren- 
ticeship had  gone  to  gaining  close  touch  with 
girls,  their  powers,  their  needs,  their  pitifully 
meagre  chances.  She  had  worked  up  from  the 
ranks,  keeping  her  eyes  open,  and  there  was 
not  a  phase  of  the  feminine  educational  oppor- 
tunity of  the  time  that  she  did  not  know: 
crowded  heterogeneous  public  schools ;  private 
schools,  the  chief  part  of  whose  apparatus 
Mark  Hopkins  defined  in  the  next  decade  as 
"  pianos  and  guitars  and  music-books"  ;  higher 
schools,  shifting  and  uncertain,  reaching  out 
for  wider  knowledge  under  conditions  fre- 
quently unhealthful  for  brains  and  bodies; 
teachers  in  these  schools,  always  overworked, 


176    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY   LYON 

frequently  ill-prepared  and  inefficient,  the  best 
of  them  self-made  scholars,  often  studying  with 
their  classes,  the  worst  showing  that  somebody 
somewhere  had  bungled  in  the  workmanship. 
"  Oberlin  Collegiate  Institute"  was  opening  its 
doors  on  a  revolutionary  programme,  and  she 
was  deeply  interested,  giving  of  her  money. 
But  Oberlin  proposed  to  fit  every  stage  of  hu- 
man development,  beginning  with  childhood, 
and  Miss  Lyon  believed  in  girls'  schools  of 
specific  character.  Moreover  Oberlin  admitted 
women,  as  it  were,  by  virtue  of  their  escorts. 
It  had  not  been  founded  primarily  for  them, 
and  it  was  not  generally  thought  that  they 
would  care  to  take  college  work,  a  "ladies' 
course"  being  provided.  The  first  two  princi- 
pals of  this  department  were  women  trained 
by  Joseph  Emerson.  Coeducational  in  form, 
Oberlin  could  have  only  an  indirect  influence 
in  raising  the  standard  of  women's  schools. 

Mary  Lyon  knew  the  imperative  need  of  the 
nation.  A  million  and  a  half  white  children, 
scattered  through  the  United  States,  were  grow- 
ing up  unschooled.  Thirty  thousand  teachers, 
according  to  a  computation  of  Miss  Beecher's, 


BREAKING   GROUND  177 

must  be  had  at  once  to  cope  with  the  situa- 
tion ;  thirty  thousand  more  to  supplant  incom- 
petents; ten  thousand  additional  annually  to 
meet  the  need  of  a  growing  people.  The  prob- 
lem of  immigration  pressed  in  the  thirties.  And 
from  where  schools  existed  came  tales  of 
slovenly  instruction  and  unscholarly  attitudes : 
"  men  unqualified  in  intellect  and  unworthy  in 
character" ;  in  one  small  section  of  Indiana  nine 
drunken  teachers  and  another  "who  staked 
his  last  coat,  and  that  unpaid  for,  at  a  horse- 
race and  lost  it"  ;  fifty  or  sixty  ragged  children 
huddled  in  a  log-house  in  Ohio,  "  with  a  log  or 
two  left  out  for  light  and  ventilation,  making 
the  air  vocal  for  a  radius  of  thirty  rods,  ...  all 
reading,  spelling,  or  studying  in  a  tone  of  voice 
as  loud  as  common  conversation";  wealthy 
"young  ladies,"  whose  instructor  endangered 
his  popularity  by  bidding  them  lower  their 
voices  in  study.  These  were  the  Americans  of 
to-morrow  and  these  their  teachers.  A  young 
nation  that  recognized  itself  as  an  experiment, 
called  for  help,  hoping  after  all  to  outlast  the 
prophets  of  dissolution.  Men  could  not  aid  her, 
-  they  were  increasingly  busy  about  other 


178    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

things,  — but  there  were  women.  "A  lady  in 
America,"  asserted  Miss  Lyon,  "who  is  not 
patriotic,  is  not  worthy  the  name  of  an  Ameri- 
can. .  .  .  Our  country  is  yet  too  young  to  have 
a  settled  character,  and  it  is  in  our  power  now 
to  mould  it  in  any  form  we  please." 

She  knew  them,  the  women  of  her  gener- 
ation, adrift  on  the  currents  of  a  new  world 
of  steam  and  machinery,  a  world  of  brain. 
Dwarfed  of  full  stature,  unequal  to  opportunity, 
pitiful  might-have-beens,  too  many  of  them 
lived,  "among  the  common  people,  depressed 
and  degraded"  ;  in  "the  higher  walks  of  life  .  .  . 
to  a  great  extent  deficient  in  intellectual  culture, 
in  practical  philosophy,  in  active  and  energetic 
habits,"  wives  of  educated  men  who,  as  a  west- 
erner put  it  to  Miss  Lyon,  had  "never  had  a 
dozen  thoughts  in  all  their  lives."  Unmarried 
women  fell  a  prey  to  all  the  ills  of  idleness. 
Time,  snatching  their  work  out  of  their  hands 
and  flinging  it  to  machines,  had  left  them  open 
to  fresh  employments.  And  the  new  world  had 
need  of  them.  Small  clutching  fingers  tugged 
already  at  their  skirts.  But  how  shall  they  work 
unless  they  are  taught  ?  And  how  shall  many 


BREAKING   GROUND  179 

of  them  be  taught  at  exorbitant  prices  ?  Again, 
it  was  President  Hopkins  who  said  that  in  the 
highest  girls'  schools  a  student's  yearly  expense 
was  nearly  double,  and  sometimes  more  than 
double,  what  gave  a  man  his  whole  college 
course.  And  how  shall  they  learn  at  moderate 
cost,  unless  society  interests  itself  to  give  them 
the  chance  ?  But  how  shall  it  give  to  whom  it 
sees  no  need  of  giving  ?  Most  baffling  puzzle 
of  all,  —  how  may  one  woman  so  rouse  people 
to  recognition  of  the  worth  of  women's  work, 
that  society  shall  secure  to  them,  as  it  does  to 
men,  an  opportunity  for  training  ?  These  were 
the  questions  that  confronted  Mary  Lyon  dur- 
ing the  summer  of  1833  and  the  year  that 
followed.  Her  answer  has  passed  into  history. 
It  was  already  clear  that  the  "vital  princi- 
ple" must  prove  itself  in  a  new  school,  a  re- 
plica of  none  already  existing.  Somehow  or 
other  they  had  not  promised  convincingly 
enough  to  open  the  public  purse.  She  set  her- 
self to  shape  a  plan  which  men  could  not  reject. 
Growing  in  her  mind,  it  passed  through  many 
phases.  At  Buckland,  among  the  thirsty  girls 
of  the  hill  country,  she  had  vaguely  pictured 


180    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

"a  seminary  which  should  be  so  moderate  in 
expense  as  to  be  open  to  the  daughters  of  farm- 
ers and  artisans  and  to  teachers  who  might  be 
mainly  dependent  for  support  on  their  own  ex- 
ertions." Girls  who  were  just  entering  woman- 
hood in  homes  without  wealth,  born,  as  she  had 
been,  to  common  ways,  cried  to  her  out  of 
starved  lives,  and  her  heart  yearned  over  them. 
Thoughts  burned  like  fires  within  her.  So 
strongly  did  her  stress  fall  for  a  time  on  the 
needs  of  such  young  women  as  these,  that  her 
friends  once  believed  a  reduction  of  expense 
comprehended  her  main  intent.  "  My  thoughts, 
feelings,  and  judgment  are  turned  toward  the 
middle  classes  of  society,"  she  wrote  Miss 
Grant.  "  This  middle  class  contains  the  main- 
springs and  main- wheels  which  are  to  move  the 
world."  Glimpses  came  to  her  of  a  high  sim- 
plicity, a  fashion  of  life  "plain,  though  very 
neat."  She  queried:  "If  it  were  really  plain, 
would  it  not  be  more  respectable  to  have  it 
professedly  so  ?"  At  one  tune  the  quick-moving 
West  beckoned  her.  Miss  Grant  directed  her 
attention  to  a  definite  site  in  Ohio,  and  later 
the  promoters  of  Monticello  Seminary  in  Illi- 


BREAKING  GROUND  181 

nois  besought  her  to  accept  its  leadership.  But 
though  New  England  now  scorned  the  project, 
she  saw  that,  winning  New  England,  she  won 
all.  "Improvements  in  education  seldom  make 
any  progress  eastward,"  she  said.  "  New  Eng- 
land influence  is  vastly  greater  than  its  compar- 
ative size  and  population  would  indicate.  It  is 
the  cradle  of  thought.  New  England  mind  car- 
ries the  day  everywhere,  and  the  great  business 
is  to  get  the  New  England  conscience  enlight- 
ened and  accurate." 

Seeing,  men  would  believe.  But  how  in  the 
face  of  indifference  secure  the  one  convincing 
demonstration?  "Honorably  to  do  this,"  she 
wrote  Miss  Beecher,  "from  twenty  to  forty 
thousand  dollars  must  be  raised;  and  such  a 
sum,  raised  for  such  an  object,  would  form  al- 
most an  era  in  female  education.  ...  I  am 
convinced  that  there  are  but  two  ways  to  ac- 
complish such  an  object.  First,  to  interest  one, 
two,  or  a  few  wealthy  men  to  do  the  whole ;  sec- 
ond, to  interest  the  whole  New  England  com- 
munity, beginning  with  the  country  population, 
and  in  time  receiving  the  aid  and  cooperation 
of  the  more  wealthy  in  our  cities.  Each  of  these 


182    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

modes,  if  practicable,  would  have  its  advan- 
tages. The  first,  if  done  at  all,  could  be  done 
sooner  and  with  very  little  comparative  labor. 
The  second  would  require  vastly  more  time  and 
labor ;  but  if  it  were  accomplished,  an  important 
and  salutary  impression  would  be  made  on  the 
whole  of  New  England."  It  was  like  her  to 
choose  the  greater  good.  "  This  may  seem  like 
a  wild  scheme,"  she  wrote  her  mother  in  the 
letter  announcing  her  decision  to  leave  Ipswich, 
"  but  I  cannot  plead  that  it  is  a  hasty  one." 

Before  she  went  she  had  offered  to  abide  Miss 
Grant's  decision  as  to  which  of  them  should  re- 
main and  carry  on  the  old  work,  which  should 
go  out  to  the  new ;  and  when,  in  the  early  stages 
of  effort,  the  committee  in  charge  sent  Miss 
Grant  an  invitation  to  become  with  Miss  Lyon 
joint  head  of  the  proposed  seminary,  it  carried 
her  cordial  seconding.  The  doing,  rather  than 
who  did  it,  concerned  her  chiefly.  Devoted 
lover  that  she  was,  with  a  wrench  of  the  heart 
she  pulled  loose  from  the  old  ties. 

So  with  magnificent  audacity  she  set  out  to 
accomplish  that  at  which  the  most  powerfully 
befriended  of  her  educational  contemporaries 


BREAKING   GROUND  183 

had  failed.  One  must  acknowledge  at  the  out- 
set a  feeling  of  hopefulness  about  the  venture. 
She  possessed  to  a  notable  degree  qualities 
which,  where  they  existed  among  the  others, 
often  obtained  at  a  lower  power,  and  in  none 
were  so  fortunately  combined.  Miss  Beecher, 
though  brilliant,  was  erratic;  Mrs.  Willard 
had  a  family  to  remember ;  Miss  Grant  lacked 
health.  In  that  vigorous  body  of  hers  Mary 
Lyon  owned  a  wonderful  reservoir  of  life. 
Seemingly  exhaustless,  it  fed  the  tireless  de- 
mands of  her  spirit.  This  vast  energy  endowed 
her  with  a  tremendous  capacity  for  long-con- 
tinued work.  Her  mind,  retentive,  coherent, 
adaptable,  inventive,  gave  her  a  complete  hold 
on  whatever  situation  was  in  hand.  She  had 
executive  ability  and  a  persuasive  personality. 
Schooled  to  "perplexities  and  difficulties,"  of 
late  she  had  learned  to  meet  ridicule. 

At  the  beginning  she  was  handicapped  by 
not  being  able  to  get  at  her  object  directly ;  eti- 
quette required  a  woman  to  be  seen,  not  heard. 
The  propriety  of  opening  her  lips,  even  at  a 
prayer- meeting,  agitated  the  thirties  in  pam- 
phlet discussion.  Miss  Lyon's  experience  with 


184    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Ipswich  had  taught  her  conclusively  the 
greater  chance  of  success,  attained  with  less 
friction,  for  a  scheme  which  appeared  to  origi- 
nate with  men.  Otherwise,  as  she  remarked 
to  Miss  Grant,  "  many  good  men  will  fear  the 
effect  on  society  of  so  much  female  influence, 
and  what  they  will  call  female  greatness."  To 
withdraw  herself  as  far  as  might  be  into  the 
background,  at  the  same  time  pushing  forward 
a  few  gentlemen  of  independence  and  repute 
who  would  yet  do  what  she  wanted  them  to 
do,  required  a  nice  diplomacy.  Incidentally,  it 
meant  a  great  deal  of  work.  It  was  not  easy  to 
bring  a  group  of  men  to  the  point  of  action  and 
hold  them  there  against  their  own  skepticism. 
"To  her,"  confessed  President  Hitchcock  after- 
wards, "we  pledged  whatever  of  influence  or 
time  we  could  devote  to  the  work,  but  .  .  .  lit- 
tle did  we  imagine  that  any  of  us  should  live 
to  see  the  work  accomplished." 

She  opened  her  campaign  in  the  spring  of 
1834,  with  an  unsigned  circular  addressed  to 
the  friends  and  patrons  of  Ipswich  Seminary. 
These  folders  acquainted  those  into  whose 
hands  they  fell  with  the  new  programme  of  an 


[facsimile  of  letter  to  Miss  White,  dated  February  $6, 1834} 


BREAKING   GROUND          185 

undertaking  already  somewhat  familiar.  Its 
writer  planted  a  thought  with  the  point  of  a 
question,  and  left  it  to  sprout.  "  To  effect  such 
an  object,"  the  circular  inquires,  "  could  not 
a  separate  and  independent  institution,  simi- 
lar in  character  to  the  Ipswich  Seminary,  be 
founded  and  sustained  by  the  Christian  pub- 
lic ?  Could  not  this  be  effected  by  some  plan 
like  the  following  ?"  There  ensued  a  concise 
explanation  of  the  main  features  of  the  "  plan." 
Most  lay  readers  found  it  interesting  and  gave 
it  their  approval.  So  at  this  time  did  ministers, 
without  whom  none  of  New  England's  colleges 
had  been  founded,  and  by  whom  they  were  still 
largely  prof  essored.  The  ministers'  associations 
of  Hampshire  and  Franklin  counties  were  the 
first  to  pass  sanctioning  resolutions,  and  later 
clerical  societies  of  wider  alignments  more  or 
less  grudgingly  followed  suit. 

On  the  sixth  of  September,  1834,  a  dozen 
gentlemen,  representative  of  the  eastern  and 
central  parts  of  Massachusetts,  met  in  Miss 
Lyon's  private  parlor  at  Ipswich,  there  to  in- 
spect, according  to  David  Choate,  "  a  few  small 
seeds  which  Miss  Lyon  was  wishing  to  put  into 


186    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

the  ground  somewhere  and  sometime,  allowing 
us  to  have  something  to  say  as  to  the  place  and 
time  and  so  forth,  yet  not  wholly  surrendering 
anything  entirely  up  to  any,  and  still  allowing 
us  the  innocent  fancy  of  thinking  ourselves  for 
the  time  being  co-workers  with  her." 

Miss  Lyon  put  it  differently.  "  A  meeting  of 
a  few  gentlemen  was  held  on  Saturday,  and 
Rev.  Drs.  Dana  and  Packard,  Professor  Hitch- 
cock, Rev.  Mr.  Felt,  Mr*  George  W.  Heard, 
Mr.  David  Choate,  and  General  Rowland  were 
appointed  a  committee  to  make  a  commence- 
ment, and  go  on  (provided  they  are  successful) 
to  appoint  trustees,  etc.  A  circular  is  soon  to  be 
printed  with  the  doings  of  the  meeting." 

This  committee  had  power  to  add  to  its 
membership  and  to  fill  its  vacancies.  It  repre- 
sented the  enterprise  before  the  public  until  a 
charter  was  granted  and  permanent  trustees 
were  named.  Nearly  twenty-eight  years  later 
Mr.  Choate  wrote  of  the  birth  of  this  fragile 
venture:  "I  shall  never  forget,  I  think,  .  .  . 
how  gently  we  tried  to  rock  its  cradle  or  how 
carefully  we  endeavored,  at  Miss  Lyon's  bid- 
ding, to  carry  it  in  our  arms !" 


BREAKING   GROUND  187 

A  thousand  dollars  was  needed  at  once  to 
finance  the  raising  of  the  main  fund;  thereby 
enabling  the  committee  to  assure  people  that 
not  one  penny  of  their  gifts  would  be  diverted 
to  meet  the  expense  of  agents  or  of  advertising. 
This  sum  Miss  Lyon  undertook  to  secure  from 
women.  In  their  beginnings,  she  said,  every 
college  and  theological  seminary  found  men 
ready  with  donations,  why  should  not  women's 
money  give  the  first  push  to  an  attempt  to  ad- 
vance their  education  by  the  same  method  ? 
Then  would  the  initial  thousand  dollars  prove 
an  argument  hard  to  turn,  witnessing  out  of 
slender  purses  to  a  mighty  strength  of  desire. 
But  it  must  come  easily.  "  The  success  of  the 
whole  enterprise  may  depend  on  the  prompt- 
ness with  which  this  call  is  met."  Few  women 
held  property,  and  fewer  of  those  with  access 
to  wealth  cared  for  such  an  impersonal  thing 
as  the  public  good.  To  hard-working  mothers 
ambitious  for  their  daughters,  and  to  girls  hope- 
ful of  a  chance  to  learn,  she  must  look  for  much 
of  the  money.  Nor  did  she  propose  to  go  far 
afield  after  it.  In  less  than  two  months,  and 
while  still  discharging  her  duties  as  acting  head 


of  Ipswich  Seminary,  she  had  raised  very  nearly 
the  full  amount,  mainly  in  and  about  Ipswich. 
Her  own  students  and  teachers  contributed 
more  than  a  quarter  of  the  sum,  the  ladies  of 
the  town  gave  almost  half,  and  former  pupils 
and  women  in  towns  near  by  made  up  the 
rest. 

From  house  to  house  Miss  Lyon  went,  pour- 
ing out  a  flood  of  joyous  explanation ;  talking  so 
fast  that  her  listeners  found  no  chance  to  stem 
the  tide  of  words  until  she  had  anticipated  their 
e\se^y  objection.  Face  to  face  with  her,  they 
saw  things  through  her  radiant  eyes.  A  teacher 
in  the  seminary  wrote  of  those  calls:  "She 
talked,  now  with  the  lady  of  the  house,  now 
with  the  husband.  She  told  the  husbands  in  a 
very  good-natured  but  earnest  way  that  she  had 
come  to  get  them  to  cut  off  one  little  corner  of 
their  estates  and  give  it  to  their  wives  to  in- 
vest in  the  form  of  a  seminary  for  young  ladies. 
She  held  before  them  the  object  dear  to  her 
heart  —  the  bringing  of  a  liberal  education 
within  the  means  of  the  daughters  of  the  com- 
mon people  —  till  it  loomed  up  to  them,  for  the 
time,  as  it  did  ever  before  her  eyes.  She  put  it 


BREAKING   GROUND  189 

to  the  lady  whether,  if  she  wanted  a  new  shawl, 
a  card- table,  a  new  carpet,  or  some  other  article 
of  elegance  in  her  furniture  or  wardrobe,  she 
could  not  contrive  means  to  procure  it.  ... 
Ladies,  that  in  ordinary  subscriptions  to  bene- 
volent objects  did  well  to  put  down  their  fifty 
cents,  gave  her  five  or  ten  dollars  of  hard-earned 
money,  collected  by  the  slow  gains  of  patient  in- 
dustry, and  gave  it  of  their  own  free  will,  yea, 
gave  it  as  a  privilege  from  which  they  would  not 
have  been  willing  to  be  debarred.  They  paid  it 
on  the  spot,  grateful  that  it  had  come  to  their 
hands  at  such  a  time  as  that." 

These  gifts  dedicated  anew  to  the  undertak- 
ing her  into  whose  hands  they  passed,  and 
through  her  they  committed  irrevocably  its 
masculine  sponsors.  She  completed  this  first 
move,  triumphant,  but  tired  to  the  bone.  Yet 
ever  life  renews  itself,  and  her  recuperative 
abilities  were  strong.  One  of  the  group  of  earli- 
est biographers  tells  us  that  at  this  time  Miss 
Lyon,  when  brain-weary,  could  at  will  sink 
into  semi-stupor  for  one,  or  even  two  or  three 
days,  rousing  but  seldom  and  taking  little  food. 
Out  of  such  mental  hibernations  she  came  re- 


190    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

freshed  and  "  ready  for  a  campaign  that  would 
exhaust  anybody  else." 

The  college  town  of  Amherst  and  the  family 
of  Professor  Hitchcock  offered  her  on  leaving 
Ipswich  a  congenial  place  in  which  to  "  read, 
write,  plan,  and  do  a  thousand  other  things." 
She  pursued  her  study  of  science,  and  again 
grew  to  be  a  familiar  figure  at  college  lectures. 
One  of  her  letters  jnakes  mention  of  a  course  in 
geology  given  by  Professor  Hitchcock,  "  which 
I  have  long  desired  to  attend."  This  circum- 
stance, together  with  her  earlier  and  later  in- 
terest, gratified  in  the  same  company,  takes 
subtler  significance  from  the  fact  that  Mr. 
Hitchcock,  "  one  of  the  grandest  of  our  teach- 
ers," as  Mr.  Birdseye  calls  him,  and  a  growing 
authority  on  geology,  was  a  pre-Darwinian  evo- 
lutionist. Living  in  his  home  gave  her  many 
chances  to  discuss  her  project  with  intelligent 
men.  Here  she  invited  a  few  western  Massa- 
chusetts leaders  to  listen  to  her  plans  and  offer 
counsel.  "Everybody  liked  to  hear  her  talk," 
says  Dr.  Edward  Hitchcock,  "  Old  Doc,"  as 
generations  of  Amherst  men  lovingly  call  him. 

From  under  this  hospitable  roof  she  went 


BREAKING   GROUND  191 

forth  on  excursions.  Any  call  for  her  presence 
issued  by  the  new  project  found  her  ready  to 
make  prompt  response,  and  other  needs  drew 
on  her  time.  When  the  death  of  his  only  daugh- 
ter led  Judge  Wheaton  to  decide  in  her  mem- 
ory to  found  a  school,  the  Wheatons  enlisted 
Miss  Lyon's  help.  In  their  own  town  they 
sought  to  reproduce  the  lines  of  Ipswich  Semi- 
nary for  the  service  of  home-keeping  girls. 
Much  thought  she  gave  to  forwarding  their 
plans,  much  of  herself.  Wheaton  Seminary 
opened  in  the  spring  of  1835,  with  Miss  Eunice 
Caldwell,  late  of  the  Ipswich  faculty,  in  the 
principal's  chair,  whither  this  able,  self-dis- 
trustful, and  altogether  charming  young  woman 
had  allowed  herself  to  be  conducted  only  by 
Miss  Lyon's  confidence  in  her  adequacy  to  the 
position.  Two  years  later  the  Massachusetts 
legislature  empowered  the  corporation  of  pro- 
prietors to  hold  real  estate  to  the  amount  of 
ten  thousand  dollars  and  personal  estate  to  the 
amount  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  to  be  devoted 
exclusively  to  the  cause  of  education.  Succeed- 
ing acts  swiftly  increased  these  sums.  Miss 
Lyon's  presence  at  Norton  helped  start  the 


192    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

machinery  of  academic  routine ;  in  these  initial 
weeks  she  planned  there  for  quiet  study  by  her- 
self, and  there  again  and  again  in  the  two  years 
and  a  half  that  ensued,  she  returned  for  con- 
sultation. 

But  the  great  work  of  that  fall  and  winter  at 
Amherst  was  to  plan  for  the  embodiment  of 
her  own  thought.  Its  different  phases  related 
themselves  to  each  other,  and  out  of  broken 
arcs  emerged  a  clear  luminous  round.  All  the 
drafts  that  she  had  drawn  and  altered,  all  the 
sheets  that  she  had  written  and  burned  in  her 
toils  for  the  foundation  of  Ipswich  Seminary, 
counted  now.  Her  policies  were  hers,  not  her 
counselors'.  She  understood  to  a  nicety  when 
to  concede  and  when  to  stand  firm,  and  she  had 
the  courage  to  trust  her  own  judgment.  After- 
wards men  like  President  Hitchcock  looked 
back  and  marveled  at  the  sagacity  with  which 
she  sometimes  withstood  "the  advice  of  wise 
and  judicious  friends."  So  inevitably  did  time 
prove  her  right,  that,  as  one  of  their  number 
said  later,  the  trustees  grew  afraid  to  oppose 
her  decisions. 

"I  have  much  stronger  desires  to  do  some- 


BREAKING   GROUND  193 

thing  towards  establishing  some  general  prin- 
ciples on  female  education  than  to  accomplish 
much  myself,"  she  wrote  on  the  eve  of  her  ad- 
venture. The  words  crowd  into  a  sentence  the 
enduring  import  of  her  work.  "Beyond  any 
woman  I  ever  knew,"  Professor  William  Tyler 
of  Amherst  College  declared  -at  the  fiftieth 
anniversary  of  Mount  Holyoke,  "  [she  was]  a 
woman  of  ideas  and  principles,  and  she  be- 
came the  founder  of  this  institution  simply  as 
a  means  of  incorporating  and  perpetuating 
them."  Her  policies  shaped  themselves  toward 
three  main  ends :  perpetually  to  secure  to  young 
women,  on  the  same  terms  as  it  was  provided 
for  young  men,  a  training  that  should  fit  them 
likewise  honorably  to  serve  society ;  to  equalize 
so  far  as  might  be  their  opportunity  for  this 
training  and  for  the  work  to  which  it  fitted  them ; 
and  to  do  these  things  now. 

She  asked  for  "  a  fund  to  be  committed  to 
an  independent,  self-perpetuating  board  of 
trustees,  known  to  the  churches  as  faithful,  re- 
sponsible men  —  not  as  a  proprietary  invest- 
ment, but  as  a  free  offering,  leaving  them  no 
way  for  an  honorable  retreat  from  their  trust, 


194    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

and  binding  them  with  solemn  responsibilities 
to  hundreds  and  thousands  of  donors,  who  have 
committed  their  sacred  charities  to  their  con- 
scientious fidelity.  Give  to  a  literary  institu- 
tion, on  this  principle,  an  amount  of  property 
sufficient  to  be  viewed  as  an  object  of  great 
importance,  and  it  is  almost  impossible  to  ex- 
tinguish its  vital  life  by  means  of  adversity."  At 
the  start  she  carried  but  one  man's  judgment  on 
this  point  of  free  gifts.  A  member  of  the  advis- 
ory committee  proposed  a  compromise  in  the 
form  of  a  neat  little  scheme  for  scholarships ;  by 
contributing  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in 
whole,  half,  or  quarter  shares,  the  one  or  more 
givers  were  to  be  entitled  to  send  a  student  at 
fifteen  dollars  a  year  less  than  the  regular  terms. 
But  in  the  end  the  committee  by  vote  sustained 
Miss  Lyon's  objections,  and  agreed  on  unat- 
tached donations.  After  writing  a  friend,  "  This 
is  the  first  attempt  I  have  ever  known  of  being 
made  to  advance  female  education  by  public 
beneficence,"  perhaps  she  was  not  altogether 
surprised  that  people  appeared  a  little  slow  in 
grasping  her  idea. 

The  plant,  thus  provided  by  and  held  in  trust 


BREAKING   GROUND  195 

for  society,  was  designed  to  have  an  equipment 
better  than  that  of  the  best  private  schools,  and 
to  furnish  a  large  number  of  students  with  a 
home  and  facilities  for  intellectual  work.  Its 
teachers  were  to  hold  salaried  positions  under 
appointment  by  trustees,  and  its  student  body 
was  to  be  strictly  limited  to  "  adult  young  ladies 
at  an  age  when  they  are  called  upon  by  their 
parents  to  judge  for  themselves  to  a  very  great 
extent,  and  when  they  can  select  a  spot  con- 
genial to  their  taste."  "Any  provision  in  an  in- 
stitution like  this  for  younger  misses  must  be  a 
public  loss  far  greater  than  the  individual  good," 
declared  Miss  Lyon.  None  of  the  customary 
favors  were  to  be  granted  "to  any  particular 
place  or  to  any  particular  portion  of  the  com- 
munity except  as  the  immediate  vicinity  must, 
of  necessity,  be  more  benefited  than  those  more 
distant." 

"The  character  of  the  young  ladies  who  shall 
become  members  of  this  Seminary  the  first 
year,"  she  audaciously  informed  the  public, 
"  will  be  of  great  importance  to  the  prosperity 
of  the  institution  itself,  and  to  the  cause  of 
female  education.  Those  who  use  their  influ- 


196    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

ence  in  making  out  the  number  will  sustain  no 
unimportant  responsibility.  It  is  very  desira- 
ble that  the  friends  of  this  cause  should  con- 
sider the  real  design  of  founding  this  institution 
before  they  use  their  influence  to  induce  any 
of  their  friends  and  acquaintances  to  avail 
themselves  of  its  privileges." 

The  education  to  be  supplied  on  this  founda- 
tion naturally  related  itself  "  to  the  wants  of  the 
great  mass  of  the  community  rather  than  of  a 
few  families.  ...  A  female  seminary  adapted 
particularly  to  the  wants  of  the  great  mass  of 
the  respectable  common  people  would  be  well 
adapted,  if  not  the  best  adapted,  to  the  wants 
of  the  most  genteel  families  in  our  cities,  but 
the  reverse  would  not  probably  be  true."  It 
must  also  be  a  growing  education.  For  perma- 
nence, by  Mary  Lyon's  definition,  consists  not 
only  in  "perpetual  vitality,"  but  also  in  "con- 
tinual prosperity  and  usefulness."  She  was  too 
wise  to  indulge  in  much  specification.  Know- 
ing her,  one  recognizes  how  sincere  and  vital 
was  the  one  rule  she  laid  down :  the  training  here 
given  would  aim  at  an  all-round  womanhood, 
physically,  mentally,  spiritually  developed.  The 


BREAKING  GROUND  197 

new  school  was  to  be  perpetually  Christian, 
though  it  aligned  itself  with  no  denomination, 
and  according  to  the  programme  advanced  by 
the  committee,  it  was  "  to  have  every  advantage 
which  the  state  of  education  in  this  country  will 
allow." 

When  she  tried  to  give  a  closer  definition  of  its 
intellectual  point  of  departure,  she  found  her- 
self hampered  by  the  lack  of  any  acknowledged 
standard  in  women's  training.  "  A  long  list  of 
branches  to  be  taught,"  she  wrote,  "can  be  no 
standard  at  all.  For,  if  so,  a  contemplated 
manual-labor  school  to  be  established  in  one  of 
the  less  improved  of  the  western  states,  whose 
prospectus  we  chanced  to  notice  some  two  or 
three  years  since,  would  stand  higher  than  most 
of  our  New  England  colleges."  To  the  semi- 
naries at  Troy,  Hartford,  and  Ipswich  she 
turned  to  make  herself  understood.  Most  in- 
telligent people  knew  about  one  of  them,  and 
in  rural  New  England  Ipswich's  fame  had  no 
rival.  The  new  seminary  was  announced  as 
beginning  at  the  point  of  culture  where  they 
then  stood.  "  Of  course  there  will  be  room  for 
a  continued  advancement, ' '  she  affirmed .  "But 


198    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

at  the  commencement  .  .  .  it  is  to  adopt  the 
same  high  standard  of  mental  discipline  [as 
Ipswich  Seminary];  the  same  slow,  thorough, 
patient  manner  of  study;  the  same  systematic 
and  extensive  course  of  solid  branches.'* 

"To  meet  public,  not  private  wants,"  to 
serve  the  many,  not  the  few,  the  life  within 
these  walls  must  be  fitted  closely  to  the  life  with- 
out ;  the  academic  must  be  made  to  further  the 
uses  of  the  big  busy  world.  Over  and  over  again 
she  reiterated  that  the  education  here  to  be 
given  was  for  service.  "  It  is  designed  to  culti- 
vate the  missionary  spirit  among  its  pupils," 
declares  the  committee's  second  circular,  im- 
mediately defining  this  use  of  the  word  mission- 
ary; "that  they  should  live  for  God  and  do 
something."  Into  memory  leaps  Carlyle's  im- 
perative, voiced  in  the  same  decade :  "  Produce ! 
Produce !  Were  it  but  the  pitiful  lest  infinitesi- 
mal fraction  of  a  product,  produce  it  in  God's 
name."  But  the  only  chance  for  unmarried 
women  to  "do  something,"  other  than  domestic 
labor,  factory-work,  dressmaking,  or  millinery, 
was  to  teach,  and  for  that  few  were  fitted.  Mary 
Lyon  reached  out  to  grasp  for  more  of  them  a 


BREAKING  GROUND  199 

share  in  the  world's  work.  She  asked  Chris- 
tian people  to  invest  money  in  their  training, 
picturing  the  Protestant  church  in  America,  for 
two  hundred  years  a  great  social  force  iden- 
tified with  the  larger  interests  of  humanity, 
founding  colleges  and  theological  seminaries  to 
secure  men  fitted  to  its  patriotic  uses,  but  still 
saying  to  women,  "  We  need  not  your  services." 
In  all  this  she  uttered  no  pronouncement 
against  the  institutions  of  society.  Most  women, 
she  thought,  would  marry,  as  they  had  always 
done,  and  marriage  in  that  generation  gave  them 
plenty  to  do.  But,  for  the  majority,  between 
girlhood  and  marriage  fell  years  of  waiting 
which  were  years  of  idleness.  It  appeared  to 
her  no  disadvantage  if  they  taught  less  than 
a  lifetime;  for  this  women  had  been  given 
versatility.  After  marriage  they  would  uphold 
their  successors,  and  she  commented  on  the 
benefits  accruing  to  the  public  schools  from 
such  a  "circulating  system."  The  culture  of 
mind  and  heart  which  would  fit  them  to  be- 
come good  teachers,  would  also  make  them 
good  mothers  and  useful  members  of  society. 
Men  talked  a  great  deal  about  the  "power  of 


200        THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

WOMAN,"  seeming  to  prefer  her  in  a  native  or 
wild  state,  where  such  training  as  she  had  came 
to  her  as  a  result  of  the  natural  attritions  of  liv- 
ing. Goodness  sufficed  this  creature.  She  might 
happily  possess  physical  charm,  too,  but  it  was 
thought  unsafe  to  tinker  with  her  mind.  Mary 
Lyon  was  inclined  to  say  little  about  "power" 
and  less  about  "  WOMAN,"  but  with  all  her  soul 
she  believed  in  women  and  in  the  necessity 
for  their  education.  Educated  women,  she 
declared,  "  exert  a  power  over  society  which 
cannot  be  exerted  by  mere  goodness  without 
intellectual  strength."  The  question  of  mental 
capacity  she  seems  not  to  have  argued  at  all ; 
matters  beyond  the  reach  of  words  to  modify 
always  failed  to  draw  her  fire,  and  the  hottest 
disputant  may  well  have  perceived  an  element 
of  the  ludicrous  in  trying  to  press  the  point 
against  the  person  of  such  an  antagonist. 

She  believed  in  education  for  the  common  uses 
of  humanity.  It  would  help  girls  to  face  life 
more  squarely ;  it  would  give  women  poise,  en- 
franchisement of  spirit,  setting  them  above  the 
tyranny  of  vicissitude  and  circumstance.  She 
had  seen  many  of  her  Ipswich  students  in  homes 


BREAKING  GROUND  201 

of  their  own,  and  had  "noticed  with  peculiar 
interest  the  cultivated  and  good  common  sense, 
the  correct  reasoning,  the  industry  and  perse- 
verance, the  patience,  meekness,  and  gentleness 
of  many  of  them."  She  wished  that  men  could 
see  these  women  and  compare  them  with  others, 
untrained,  but  similarly  placed.  She  thought 
that  then  they  would  realize  that  the  money  ex- 
pended on  their  education  had  not  been  "  thrown 
away."  "Would  it  not  be  a  less  evil,"  she 
queried,  "for  the  farmers  and  mechanics 
through  the  land,  who  are  to  spend  all  their 
lives  in  laboring  to  support  their  families,  to 
have  scanty  stores  of  learning  than  for  their 
wives,  who  must  train  up  the  children,  to  be 
thus  scantily  furnished?" 

We  have  a  jocular  catch  of  the  street,  "  No- 
thing is  too  good  for  an  American."  That  every 
person  has  a  right  to  a  chance  at  the  best  de- 
fines the  essentially  democratic  point  of  view, 
and  Miss  Lyon  saw  clearly  that  in  a  democratic 
country  the  road  to  highest  usefulness  ought 
to  be  as  widely  open  to  women  as  it  was  to  men. 
Therefore  the  best  education  must  no  longer  re- 
main the  perquisite  of  rich  girls  or  even  of  the 


202     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

well-to-do.  "I  wish,"  she  wrote  a  friend,  "the 
same  interest  could  be  excited  to  extend  female 
education  to  the  common  walks  of  life  that 
exists  with  regard  to  male  education."  Of  an- 
other she  questioned  :  "  Do  not  many  value  our 
highest  female  seminaries  according  to  their 
expenses  ?  Is  it  not  popular,  or  rather  gratify- 
ing, to  young  ladies  to  attend  expensive  sem- 
inaries when  perhaps  their  brothers  would 
rather  glory  in  being  able  to  pursue  their  stud- 
ies at  a  moderate  expense  ?  Is  there  not  a 
general  feeling  that  female  education  must  be 
expensive,  and  those  who  cannot  bear  the  ex- 
pense must  do  without  it  ?  And  is  not  this  one 
reason  why  ladies  are  so  much  more  aristocra- 
tic than  gentlemen  and  why  their  aristocracy  is 
founded  on  so  much  lower  and  more  despicable 
principles?" 

To  republicanize  women's  education  meant 
to  lower  the  price,  and  only  the  application  of 
men's  methods  made  it  possible  to  do  this  while 
bettering  the  quality.  "  How  moderate  are  the 
charges  in  our  colleges  compared  with  the  real 
expense  of  the  privileges!"  cried  Miss  Lyon. 
Hence,  as  a  natural  entail  to  society  ownership, 


BREAKING  GROUND  203 

the  new  seminary  advertised  reduction  of  ex- 
pense. "Such  a  reduction  could  not,  indeed, 
be  expected  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  more  needy 
and  dependent,"  remarked  the  founder.  What 
it  did  attempt  to  do  was  to  put  within  the  reach 
of  the  great  majority  of  "  industrious  and  en- 
terprising" Americans,  advantages  which  even 
the  wealthy  could  not  then  command.  "We 
hope  and  expect  that  it  will  be  like  our  Colleges," 
runs  the  committee's  circular,  "so  valuable 
that  the  rich  will  be  glad  to  avail  themselves  of 
its  benefits,  and  so  economical  that  people  in 
very  moderate  circumstances  may  be  equally 
and  as  fully  accommodated."  Against  only  two 
kinds  of  young  women  did  Miss  Lyon  discrim- 
inate: "harmless  cumberers  of  the  ground," 
as  she  called  some  who,  she  also  said,  might  be 
personally  very  dear;  and  those  "  whose  highest 
ambition  is  to  be  qualified  to  amuse  a  friend  in 
a  vacant  hour." 

Her  declaration  that  the  buildings  should 
house  the  whole  student  body  on  identical 
terms,  together  with  her  plans  for  lowering  ex- 
pense, met  with  opposition  which  will  appear 
more  particularly  later.  Again  she  triumphed, 


to  write,  "The  principle  of  entire  equality 
among  the  pupils  is  to  be  adopted.  The  charges 
will  be  the  same  to  all  without  reference  to  their 
means.  Whatever  of  favor  in  this  respect  they 
receive  will  come  to  them  not  as  an  individual 
charity,  demanding  individual  gratitude,  but 
through  the  medium  of  a  public  institution, 
founded  by  the  liberality  of  the  Christian  com- 
munity, not  for  their  sakes  as  individuals,  but 
for  the  sake  of  the  children  and  youth  of  our 
country  who  must  come  successively  under 
their  care." 

These  measures  looking  toward  the  object, 
the  manner,  and  the  means  of  women's  educa- 
tion, were  permanent  policies.  Beneath  them 
all  lies  one  fundamental  and  coherent  recogni- 
tion :  the  social  enterprise  is  a  company  having 
two  partners.  Both  need  to  work,  both  need 
training  to  work  well,  and  both  return  to  so- 
ciety interest  on  any  investment  in  their  educa- 
tion. Mary  Lyon  was  not  in  the  business  of 
founding  a  single  school.  "  The  ultimate  result 
to  be  anticipated  from  the  establishment  of  the 
proposed  seminary  is  to  encourage  the  benevo- 
lent public  to  build  up  and  sustain  literary  in- 


BREAKING  GROUND  205 

stitutions  for  the  benefit  of  females,  and  to  pro- 
mote education  among  adults." 

The  fact  of  the  multiplication  of  such  schools 
concerned  her  less  than  the  method.  Here, 
with  her  genius  for  hitting  the  bull's  eye,  she 
laid  chief  stress.  A  great  national  need  winged 
her  words.  Should  this  need  be  met  by  public 
or  by  private  enterprise  ?  In  determining  the 
means  to  be  used  to  supply  trained  women  for 
public  service,  she  saw  "the  most  important 
result  of  this  grand  experiment  on  the  benevo- 
lence of  the  Christian  community.  ...  It  is 
testing  the  great  question  of  duty  on  this  sub- 
ject. This  constitutes  its  chief  importance.  It 
is  like  signing  the  Declaration  of  Independence : 
the  battles  were  still  to  be  fought,  but  the  ques- 
tion of  independence  was  then  settled." 

The  difficulty  lay  in  getting  independence 
declared,  but  she  never  failed  twice  at  the  same 
point.  The  ways  she  took  to  overcome  popular 
indifference  form  another  group  of  policies, 
which  she  frankly  ticketed  as  temporary,  and 
whose  duplication  in  other  institutions  she  did 
not  necessarily  recommend.  Promises  of  per- 
manence, of  better  equipment,  of  more  scholarly 


206    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY   LYON 

work,  had  not  moved  society  to  action;  "the 
great  and  honorable  among  the  good"  had  not 
turned  aside  to  help  her.  But  there  are  ways  of 
getting  at  people  on  their  own  level,  and  draw- 
ing them  up  to  where  they  can  see  further.  "  I 
was  convinced,"  she  wrote  Miss  Beecher  in 
reply  to  an  exhortation  from  the  latter,  "that, 
to  give  the  first  impulse  to  this  work,  something 
must  be  presented  which  is  more  tangible  and 
of  real,  though  of  less  value,  and  be  made  to 
stand  out  in  bold  relief.  For  this  purpose  we 
have  chosen  the  reduction  of  expenses,  as  com- 
pared with  other  large  seminaries  not  aided  by 
the  public.  Every  step  we  take  proves  it  a  good 
selection."  In  effecting  this  "bold  relief," 
she  proposed  that  students  and  teachers  should 
join  with  the  community  at  large.  Such  a  com- 
bination would  relieve  the  public  of  any  sus- 
picion that  it  was  being  bled.  Two  devices  she 
evolved:  a  plan  for  securing  teachers  who 
would  take  part  of  their  pay  in  the  joy  of  the 
work  and  of  the  good  they  could  do,  and  a  pro- 
ject for  cooperative  housework.  At  no  points 
did  she  suffer  more  criticism  and  misunder- 
standing. Miss  Grant  at  first  opposed  both  de- 


BREAKING  GROUND  207 

vices.  Yet  Miss  Lyon  was  probably  right  in  her 
belief  that  she  could  not  have  succeeded  without 
them.  Whether  one  regard  their  adoption  as 
evidencing  a  true  or  a  faulty  judgment,  it  may 
be  enlightening  to  press  inquiry  into  her  exact 
attitude  toward  the  two  measures. 

In  her  view,  they  served  the  community  as  a 
guaranty  of  good  faith  on  the  part  of  the  man- 
agement. "  When  any  new  mode  of  benevolent 
operations  is  commenced,  it  is  generally  de- 
manded by  those  who  contribute,  and  some- 
times to  a  degree  almost  unreasonable,  that 
the  plan  should  bear  striking  marks  of  self- 
denial  and  economy.  In  obtaining  the  funds 
for  the  proposed  seminary,  it  is  necessary  to 
meet  this  demand  as  far  as  possible.  If  funds 
for  a  second  institution  of  the  kind  or  a  third 
should  be  raised,  perhaps  nothing  of  the  kind 
would  be  necessary.  No  mode  of  economy  is, 
however,  to  be  adopted  which  will  at  all  interfere 
with  the  greatest  improvement  of  the  pupils." 
In  specifying  that  the  housework  would  be  done 
by  all  the  students,  sharing  equally,  she  fur- 
nished those  for  whose  money  she  asked  with 
"  a  kind  of  pledge,"  as  she  phrases  it,  "  or  rather 


208    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

illustration,  of  what  is  meant  by  self-denial  and 
economy  in  the  institution." 

Having  adopted  it  as  an  expedient,  her  fertile 
brain  swiftly  found  in  the  arrangement  much 
promise.  Hurriedly  penned  pages  fill  out  the 
lines  of  print.  She  even  came  to  write,  "The 
main  object  of  this  proposed  plan  is  not  to  re- 
duce the  expense."  While  a  slight  reduction, 
she  thinks,  will  indeed  be  effected,  the  low  cost 
of  hired  service  subtracts  from  the  argument  all 
conclusive  weight.  Certain  other  intentions  are 
disclaimed.  It  is  not  a  scheme  whereby  a  stu- 
dent may  partially  earn  her  way.  "  Could  the 
avails  amount  to  any  considerable  sum  unless 
this  business  should  be  made  the  leading  object, 
instead  of  study  ?"  Would  it  not  be  better  for 
a  girl  to  take  all  her  time  for  a  year  or  two,  earn 
what  she  can,  and  then  study  ?  She  has  no  faith 
hi  any  of  the  "manual-labor"  schemes  by 
which  people  propose  to  have  women  support 
themselves  at  school,  "  such  as  raising  silk,  at- 
tending to  grapevines,  spinning,  weaving,  etc., 
etc.  I  should  expect,"  she  writes,  "that  any 
attempt  of  the  kind  would  become  a  bill  of  ex- 
pense, rather  than  an  income."  About  the  car- 


BREAKING  GROUND  209 

rying  out  of  the  plan,  "there  shall  be  nothing 
which  will  seem  like  productive  labor,  lest  it 
should  tend  eventually  to  cultivate  a  mean  and 
mercenary  spirit  among  the  members  of  the 
school."  While  still  at  Ipswich,  she  writes  Miss 
White:  "After  the  acquaintance  I  have  had 
with  many  cultivated  and  interesting  families 
whose  daughters  performed  in  a  systematic 
manner  all  their  own  labor,  I  have  the  greatest 
confidence  that  a  system  might  be  formed  by 
which  all  the  domestic  work  of  a  family  of  one 
hundred  could  be  performed  by  the  young  la- 
dies themselves  and  in  the  most  perfect  order 
without  any  sacrifice  of  improvement  in  know- 
ledge or  refinement."  Such  girls  "would  not 
stoop  to  receive  a  definite  number  of  cents 
daily  or  weekly,"  but  "with  the  utmost  cheer- 
fulness and  dignity"  they  would  do  their  share 
for  the  sake  of  the  school. 

Explicitly  she  declares  that  it  is  no  part  of  the 
plan  to  teach  "domestic  work" ;  that  should  be 
done  by  the  mothers  at  home.  Nor  does  it  de- 
sign to  affect  the  distinctions  of  society,  par- 
ticularly the  relations  between  mistress  and 
maid.  On  this  account  there  must  be  all  stu- 


210     THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

dent  work  or  none;  mixing  scholars  and  ser- 
vants is  injudicious.  Indirectly,  however,  it  may 
exert  "a  happy  influence"  on  social  distinctions 
by  preparing  the  students  "to  bear  with  true 
dignity  the  various  and  extreme  changes" 
which  fall  to  the  lot  of  American  women.  She 
goes  on  to  say  positively :  "  The  adoption  of  a 
feature  like  this  in  an  institution  which  aims 
to  be  better  endowed  than  any  existing  female 
seminary  in  the  country,  must  give  it  an  attitude 
of  noble  independence  which  can  scarcely  fail 
to  exert  an  elevating  influence  on  its  members." 
By  freeing  the  establishment  from  "  the  will  of 
hired  domestics,"  the  arrangement  will  promote 
the  health,  improvement,  and  happiness  of  the 
students.  The  exercise  will  be  good  for  them ; 
they  will  not  become  estranged  from  the  ordi- 
nary conditions  of  home  life ;  and  they  will  be 
relieved  "  from  that  servile  dependence  on  com- 
mon domestics  to  which  young  ladies  as  mere 
boarders  in  a  large  establishment  are  often 
subject,  to  their  great  inconvenience."  The  de- 
vice will  give  to  the  whole  round  of  life  a  tone 
of  mutual  helpfulness  and  service.  It  will  act 
as  a  "  moral  sieve"  to  keep  out  the  self-centred 


BREAKING   GROUND  211 

and  to  bring  in  those,  "whether  more  or  less 
wealthy,"  whose  thoughts  and  wishes  go  be- 
yond themselves.  She  questions  whether  it  may 
not  do  away  with  much  of  the  prejudice  exist- 
ing among  ordinary  people  against  the  educa- 
tion of  women.  Yet  it  is,  after  all,  "a  mere 
appendage,  and  not  an  essential  feature  of  the 
proposed  institution.  If  experiment  should 
prove  the  plan  to  be  impracticable  or  inexpe- 
dient (which,  however,  we  do  not  expect),  do- 
mestics could  be  introduced  to  perform  the 
family  labor,  and  the  change  would  not  at  all 
affect  the  essential  and  more  important  fea- 
tures of  the  school." 

Perhaps  only  a  thinker  bred  in  the  idealistic 
New  England  that  shaped  Ralph  Waldo  Em- 
erson could  have  conceived  quite  such  an  ac- 
companiment to  the  higher  education.  "  I  had 
rather  stretch  my  arm  or  rise  from  my  chair 
than  be  served  by  one  who  does  it  not  from 
love,"  wrote  Emerson  at  the  beginning  of  the 
next  decade.  Only  a  very  sane  idealist  could 
have  made  it  work. 

Low  salaries  bore  a  much  closer  relationship 
to  tuition  than  did  "domestic  work"  to  the  cost 


THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

of  living.  "The  charges  to  the  pupils  for  board 
and  tuition  will  be  placed  at  cost,  without  rent 
for  buildings  or  furniture,"  promised  the  spon- 
sors of  the  enterprise.  To  start  the  ball  rolling 
Miss  Lyon  dared  not  ask  too  much,  lest  she  get 
nothing.  People  must  be  broken  gently  to  new 
notions.  So  she  issued  her  first  call  merely  for 
the  production  of  the  plant  itself:  buildings 
and  equipment.  On  the  academic  side  these 
included  "a  large  seminary  hall,  recitation- 
rooms,  a  library  and  reading-room,  chemical- 
room,  etc.,  .  .  .  and  also  library  and  appa- 
ratus." "Additional  funds  for  other  purposes 
would  be  highly  valuable  to  the  institution," 
people  read  in  the  printed  pamphlet  setting 
forth  the  matter,  "  but  nothing  farther  is  pro- 
posed in  the  present  effort." 

Given  the  necessity  for  "moderate"  tuition, 
the  only  alternative  to  endowed  chairs  is 
slender-salaried  teachers.  Against  this  Miss 
Beecher,  as  well  as  Miss  Grant,  protested. 
Miss  Lyon  was  setting  a  dangerous  precedent ; 
good  schools  waited  on  good  teachers  and  good 
teachers  on  adequate  pay.  She  was  deflecting 
salaries  in  the  wrong  direction,  —  they  ought 


BREAKING  GROUND  213 

to  go  up,  not  down.  Otherwise  teaching  would 
remain,  as  Miss  Beecher  vigorously  declared, 
"  the  resort  of  the  dull,  stupid,  and  shiftless  that 
can  do  nothing  else."  The  profession  could  not 
be  sustained  by  a  missionary  spirit.  She  feared 
Miss  Lyon  was  "starting  wrong,"  for  all  plans 
which  tended  to  sink  the  price  of  tuition  would 
probably  be  discountenanced  by  the  best  edu- 
cators. Her  counter-proposals  were  not  likely 
to  commend  themselves  to  a  democratic  person. 
She  suggested  getting  around  the  difficulty  in 
one  of  two  ways ;  by  charging  a  high  price  for 
tuition,  with  the  understanding  that  a  part  or 
the  whole  would  be  remitted  to  all  who  could 
not  pay,  or  by  setting  a  medium  price  and  re- 
quiring those  who  could  afford  it  to  pay  rent, 
the  rest  living  rent-free. 

Miss  Lyon  wrote  Miss  Beecher,  "I  thank 
you  for  your  interest  in  my  plans,  expressed  in 
the  sincere  way  of  criticism  on  one  point."  Both 
to  her  and  to  Miss  Grant  she  disclaimed  any  in- 
tention of  establishing  a  precedent.  The  ques- 
tion of  salary  was  a  legitimate  consideration 
for  a  woman,  though  on  her  own  list  of  motives 
for  teaching  it  stood  neither  first  nor  second. 


214    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

As  usual,  she  had  looked  at  the  matter  from  all 
sides,  and  any  possible  loss  the  plan  might  en- 
tail seemed  to  her  a  less  imperative  issue  than 
the  present  need  of  bringing  into  existence  an 
example  of  the  sort  of  thing  that  she  had  in 
mind.  The  following  passages  taken  from  let- 
ters to  both  women  clearly  reveal  her  attitude : 

"While  the  public  are  so  little  prepared  to 
contribute  liberally  to  an  object  like  this,  may  it 
not  be  expedient  that  those  who  first  enter  the 
field  as  laborers  should  receive  as  a  reward  so 
little  of  'filthy  lucre'  that  they  may  be  able  to 
commend  themselves  to  every  man's  conscience, 
even  to  those  whose  minds  are  narrow  and 
whose  hearts  are  not  much  enlarged  by  Chris- 
tian philanthropy  ?  If  such  a  course  should  be 
desirable  at  the  commencement,  how  many 
years  or  how  many  scores  of  years  must  elapse 
before  it  would  be  no  longer  needful,  time  alone 
can  decide." 

"Neither  do  we  consider  it  necessary  that 
other  institutions  should  adopt  the  same  stand- 
ard, or  that  this  institution  should  certainly 
abide  by  it  evermore,  though  at  present  it  is 
essential  to  our  success." 


BREAKING  GROUND  215 

"I  do  not  mean  to  ask  any  other  one  con- 
nected with  the  institution  to  make  such  sacri- 
fices as  I  can  cheerfully  make.  This  may  not 
be  necessary  for  my  successor,  but  it  is  neces- 
sary in  my  case,  at  least  for  a  few  years." 

Miss  Lyon  found  herself  in  the  position  of 
a  modern  manufacturer  launching  a  new  pro- 
duct, and  with  as  keen  a  business  sense  she  hit 
on  much  the  same  method.  Here  was  a  new 
brand  of  education  for  which  she  must  create 
a  demand.  If  at  first  she  set  on  it  a  high  or 
even  a  normal  price,  many  people  whose  pa- 
tronage she  wished  to  secure  would  continue 
either  to  go  without  or  to  get  their  own  or  their 
daughters'  training  at  neighborhood  academies 
or  at  private  schools.  These  sold  an  article 
neither  so  good  in  kind  nor  of  so  high  a  grade, 
but  until  a  practical  demonstration  of  the  differ- 
ence could  be  given  purchasers  would  be  con- 
tent with  it.  To  introduce  the  new  education 
she  proposed  to  put  the  price  below  par  for  a 
while,  and  with  intimate  knowledge  of  the  un- 
selfish proclivities  of  women,  she  asked  the  first 
demonstrators  to  give  a  part  of  their  services. 

This,  then,  was  her  proposition:  to  found 


216     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

an  institution  of  the  highest  available  culture 
which  should  fit  young  women  for  usefulness ; 
democratic ;  independent  both  of  the  life  of  a 
single  teacher  and  of  the  fluctuations  of  the 
money-market;  the  resource  neither  of  slen- 
der-pursed gentility  nor  of  financial  promoters ; 
enduring,  as  were  colleges  for  men,  "from 
generation  to  generation."  It  reads  naturally 
to-day.  Before  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  the  conception  outlined  a  gigantic  un- 
dertaking. The  women  of  a  locality  which 
expected  no  direct  returns  had  paid  the  antici- 
pated expense  of  advertising.  With  their  money 
she  put  the  idea  before  the  general  public, 
whose  attitude  was  "yet  to  be  determined  by 
fair  experiment." 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   FOUNDING   OF   MOUNT   HOLYOKE 

"WHEN  we  decide  that  it  is  best  to  perform  a 
certain  duty  we  should  expect  success  in  it,  if 
it  is  not  utterly  impossible,"  Miss  Lyon  had 
said  at  Ipswich.  The  next  three  years  of  her  life 
passed  into  a  practical  illustration  of  her  creed. 
Most  founders  of  educational  institutions  have 
supplied  capital  from  their  own  pockets.  Be- 
yond what  were  stored  in  brain  and  body,  she 
had  but  the  scantiest  resources.  The  problem 
which  confronted  her  was  how  to  bring  a  suffi- 
cient number  of  indifferent  people,  possessed 
of  more  or  less  money,  to  recognize  the  need 
and  practicability  of  her  enterprise.  "If  the 
funds  can  once  be  raised,"  she  wrote,  "the  in- 
stitution may  live  and  grow  and  prove  its  own 
character.  The  question  of  raising  funds  is  the 
great  and  difficult  one,  which  outweighs  almost 
all  others." 

The  quality  of  the  men  whom  she  asked  to 


218     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

help  her  appears  in  their  acceptance  of  her  de- 
sign. They  were  broad-minded  persons,  capable 
of  according  hospitality,  as  is  noted  in  the  first 
memoir,  to  "  the  complicated  plans  of  a  woman 
so  unlike  all  other  women  they  had  ever  met." 
They  were  also  gentlemen  of  daring.  It  was 
a  necessary  quality  of  men  concerned  in  what 
Miss  Beecher  characterized  forty  years  later  as 
an  attempt  "to  gain  perpetuity  by  endowments 
for  an  institution  which  should  secure  as  high 
intellectual  training  for  the  daughters  as  for  the 
sons  of  a  family."  Professor  Hitchcock  wrote 
in  1861:  "To  be  its  advocate  in  those  early 
days  when  most  men  treated  the  project  as  a 
quixotic  dream  was  quite  a  different  thing 
from  what  it  is  now,  when  the  plan  has  had  the 
prestige  of  twenty-five  years  of  successful  trial, 
and  the  name  of  its  founder  is  enrolled  high 
among  the  wise  and  eminent  benefactors  of  the 
race." 

Before  it  could  gain  much  headway  the  pro- 
ject must  be  fitted  to  "  a  local  habitation  and  a 
name."  For  the  former,  various  propositions 
were  made  by  various  people.  The  trustees  of 
Abbot  Academy  at  Andover  offered  "to  change 


the  character  of  the  prosperous  institution 
under  their  direction,"  and  to  erect  buildings  for 
dormitories  and  commons.  Miss  Lyon's  own 
inclinations  turned  to  the  "genial  soil"  of  the 
Connecticut,  and  "a  small  country  village 
where,"  as  she  said,  "the  institution  will  rise 
up  and  grow  under  the  protection  of  an  ex- 
tended population  rather  than  of  one  town." 
Both  decisions  she  left  to  the  committee.  In- 
vestigation on  their  part  narrowed  the  range 
of  choice  to  South  Deerfield,  Sunderland,  and 
South  Hadley.  All  three  were  in  western  Mas- 
sachusetts and  all  offered  large  subscriptions  to 
secure  the  award.  No  railroad  then  threw  the 
balance  of  favor  to  any  one  of  them.  The  only 
lines  of  track  in  New  England  joined  Bos- 
ton with  Worcester,  Lowell,  and  Providence, 
—  not  for  several  months  yet  to  be  opened  for 
traffic. 

The  decisive  meeting  was  scheduled  for  Jan- 
uary the  eighth,  1835.  Though  etiquette  for- 
bade her  presence  at  the  committee's  deliber- 
ations, its  members  wished  Miss  Lyon  to  be 
accessible  for  consultation.  The  mercury  was 
below  zero  at  Amherst,  and  it  lacked  three  or 


220    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

four  hours  of  sunrise,  when  she  and  Professor 
Hitchcock,  each  wrapped  in  a  buffalo  robe, 
took  seats  in  the  stage  for  Worcester.  Near  the 
following  midnight  Mr.  Felt  came  to  tell  her 
that  South  Deerfield  had  been  negatived.  The 
next  day  saw  South  Hadley  chosen. 

In  April  a  name  was  selected.  Seminary 
came  naturally.  The  term  was  then  non-com- 
mittal, popularly  used  to  denote  a  school  of  any 
grade.  The  Encyclopaedia  Americana  of  1836 l 
employs  the  word  interchangeably  with  college, 
and  in  President  Humphrey's  usage  two  years 
later  it  covers  both  Sunday  Schools  and  the 
most  important  colleges  for  men.2  Professor 
Hitchcock  had  already  proffered  the  reading 
public  a  full-fed  mouthful  of  pure  Greek. 
Pangynaskean  Seminary  conveyed  to  the  in- 
tellectual a  reminder  of  that  strongly  stressed 
development  of  the  whole  woman.  But  most 
people  do  not  listen  when  a  man  speaks  Greek. 
Mr.  Hitchcock's  readers  inclined  to  laugh,  not 
pleasantly,  but  in  derision.  Mount  Holyoke 

1  Vol.  xi>  p.  255. 

2  Great  Britain,  France,  and  Belgium:  A  Short  Tour  in 
1835  (published  1838),  by  Heman  Humphrey,  President  of 
Amherst  College,  pp.  277-287. 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED 

sentinels  the  east  bank  of  the  Connecticut  River 
near  South  Hadley,  and  at  the  christening  the 
committee  voted  to  borrow  a  name  of  the  moun- 
tain. There  are  fashions  in  words  as  in  the  cut 
of  sleeves.  Male  and  female  went  out  of  polite 
usage  several  decades  ago.  When  Mary  Lyon 
lived  they  moved  in  the  best  circles  both  in 
literature  and  life.  Troy,  Hartford,  Ipswich: 
they  were  all  "female  seminaries"  glorying  in 
the  word  that  falls  quaintly  on  modern  ears. 
Even  so  late  as  in  the  early  sixties  Vassar  was 
incorporated  as  a  "Female  College."  Mount 
Holyoke  Female  Seminary  —  its  very  title 
breathed  triumph.  For  when,  on  the  eleventh 
of  February,  1836,  the  Governor  signed  a  char- 
ter empowering  the  trustees  to  hold  property 
to  the  value  of  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  its 
founder  knew  that  the  kingdom  of  letters  had 
been  divided. 

Long  before  that  date  Miss  Lyon  and  her 
counsel  had  delivered  the  cause  to  judgment. 
"Conduct  proves  feeling.  People  will  always 
give  their  money  for  that  which  they  value 
most,"  she  had  been  wont  to  say,  and  she  would 
have  her  venture  rooted  in  broad  affections, 


222    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

"an  object  of  delightful  remembrance."  Her 
wide  acquaintance  aided  advertisement,  old 
friends  and  new  converts  zealously  scattering 
pamphlets  and  circulars.  Agents  traversed  New 
England  explaining  the  project  and  booking 
subscriptions.  Reverend  Roswell  Hawks,  col- 
league pastor  at  Cummington,  was  first  among 
the  ministers  to  engage  in  this  work ;  in  one 
way  and  another  he  served  Mount  Holyoke  un- 
weariedly  for  twenty  years.  Most  of  the  solici- 
tors only  temporarily  relinquished  their  charges. 
One  devoted  a  few  weeks  to  canvassing  a  re- 
gion where  he  had  influence,  while  the  profes- 
sors of  Amherst  College  supplied  his  pulpit. 
Increasingly  through  these  years  New  England 
felt  that  tightening  of  the  money  market  which 
led  to  the  panic  of  1837,  and  even  promises  came 
hard.  Once  Mr.  Hawks  traveled  for  three 
months  without  getting  a  cent.  Another  solici- 
tor, shut  up  by  a  three  days'  snowstorm,  wrote, 
"  Were  not  the  times  such  as  they  are,  't  would 
be  pleasant  to  raise  money  for  this  grand  enter- 
prise." But  the  campaign  could  not  wait  on 
time  or  opportunity ;  the  vocabulary  of  its  com- 
mander held  but  one  word  —  Now ! 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  223 

When  the  lieutenants  faced  failure,  she  took 
the  field  herself.  Her  green  velvet  money-bag 
grew  to  be  a  familiar  sight  through  the  country- 
side. "I  wander  about  without  a  home,"  she 
wrote  her  mother  and  sister,  "  scarcely  knowing 
one  week  where  I  shall  be  the  next." 

A  letter  to  Miss  Grant  dated  at  South  Had- 
ley  details  succinctly  one  of  these  swift  dashes 
from  place  to  place.  "  I  have  not  entirely  given 
up  going  to  New  York  this  autumn.  I  am  think- 
ing of  going  directly  to  New  York  from  Boston. 
But  it  is  almost  impossible  for  me  to  predict 
my  own  movements.  I  spent  last  Wednesday 
night  at  Belchertown,  Thursday  night  at  Barre, 
Friday  night  at  Amherst,  and  yesterday  re- 
turned here.  I  leave  to-morrow  on  an  excur- 
sion around  on  the  hills,  for  the  sake  of  convers- 
ing with  some  individuals  about  our  enterprise. 
I  expect  to  get  around  to  Belchertown  the  last 
of  the  week  on  my  way  to  Boston.  ...  I  am 
going  to  Boston  to  endeavor  to  find  out  whether 
it  is  safe  for  us  to  attempt  anything  there  this 
autumn.  If  it  seems  expedient,  I  shall  write  to 
Mr.  Hawks,  and  he  will  go  on  and  make  the 
attempt." 


She  traveled  much  with  Mr.  Hawks  or  an- 
other solicitor ;  often  a  member  of  the  commit- 
tee took  her  to  call  on  an  influential  man  whose 
interest  they  wished  to  enlist;  sometimes  she 
spoke  to  mixed  audiences  in  district  school- 
houses  among  the  Franklin  County  hills.  Her 
words  flowed  as  easily  in  a  stage-coach  as  in 
a  parlor.  The  road  between  Boston  and  the 
Connecticut  knew  her  so  well  that  the  time 
came  when  she  could  not  go  ten  miles  without 
a  greeting  from  some  fellow-passenger  who,  by 
naming,  introduced  her  to  the  rest.  They  had 
all  heard  of  her,  and  questions  followed. 

In  these  years  she  came  often  to  Ashfield,  re- 
lying on  Squire  White  to  set  forward  her  affairs 
in  many  a  kindly  way.  "  When  I  am  wandering 
about,  it  is  pleasant  and  consoling  to  think  that 
under  the  roof  of  your  dear  home  I  can  have 
a  resting  place  when  I  need,"  she  wrote  Miss 
Hannah  White.  They  were  busy  breathing- 
spots.  In  the  east  sitting-room  of  "White 
Homestead,"  the  Squire's  granddaughter  has 
turned  an  inward  eye  back  upon  those  far  years 
when  she  was  a  child  in  the  old  house.  "  Often 
and  often  have  I  seen  grandfather  and  Miss 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  225 

Lyon  sitting  in  this  very  room,  —  a  table,  its 
leaves  opened,  drawn  near  the  fireplace ;  papers, 
plans  of  the  seminary  spread  out  upon  it ;  she  on 
one  side  and  he  on  the  other.  Sometimes  they 
worked  over  them  until  after  midnight."  She 
paints  a  pleasant  picture.  One  can  almost  see 
the  fine  portly  Squire,  his  strong  but  kindly 
face  moulded  into  thoughtful  lines,  and  op- 
posite him  the  eager  absorbed  woman  in  her 
simple  well-cut  green  gown,  a  bit  of  lace  at  the 
throat,  firelight  and  candlelight  shining  on  her 
clear  skin  and  picking  out  the  red-gold  lights 
in  her  curly  auburn  hair  whose  generous  coils 
glint  through  the  meshes  of  the  white  turban 
that  she  always  wore  indoors.  In  the  morning 
she  would  be  up  and  away  by  stage,  or  the  Squire 
would  carry  her  where  she  wished  to  go.  Early 
she  had  written  him  of  her  plans,  as  to  one 
upon  whose  understanding  she  could  rely ;  he 
gave  largely  and  he  influenced  others  to  give. 
The  care  of  her  property,  long  since  of  her 
own  earning,  was  in  his  hands,  and  we  find  her 
writing  intelligently,  with  apparent  knowledge 
of  his  investments,  now  and  then  counting  on 
his  liberality  to  advance  on  what  he  might  not 


THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

be  able,  before  she  wanted  the  money,  to  con- 
vert into  cash.  Every  cent  of  personal  ex- 
pense and  postage,  the  latter  no  inconsiderable 
sum,  she  paid  herself,  and  in  one  way  and  an- 
other poured  her  savings  freely  into  Mount 
Holyoke's  till.  In  view  of  the  small  salaries 
paid  in  the  best  private  schools  for  girls,  it  is 
surprising  to  find  Miss  Lyon  herself  among  the 
largest  donors  to  the  project.  But  her  name  ap- 
pears on  no  subscription  paper. 

The  books  in  which  donations  are  set  down 
make  significant  reading.  One  of  them  records 
about  twenty-seven  thousand  dollars  sub- 
scribed by  a  few  more  than  eighteen  hundred 
people  in  ninety-one  towns.  The  largest  single 
sums  entered  here  are  two  of  a  thousand  dollars 
each;  the  smallest,  three  of  six  cents.  Several 
two  hundred  and  fifty  dollar  entries  appear, 
and  many  of  one  hundred.  But  much  is  set 
down  in  fifty  cents,  single  dollars,  twos,  threes, 
and  fives.  Something  of  the  toilsomeness  of  the 
quest  speaks  in  the  faded  ink  of  these  pages. 
There  are  other  lists.  Between  the  lines  one 
reads  the  programme  of  Mary  Lyon's  days ;  up 
at  all  hours,  out  in  all  weathers,  matching  dif- 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  227 

ficulties  and  disappointments  with  an  indomit- 
able will,  facing  rebuffs  with  irrepressible  faith. 
The  life  brought  wonder,  dismay,  and  fear  to 
the  hearts  of  her  friends.  They  begged  her  to 
look  to  her  health,  and  wrought  small  protec- 
tions against  the  exposures  of  winter  travel. 

But  from  the  thing  which  she  had  set  herself 
to  do  hardship  could  not  turn  her  aside.  The 
woman  who,  coming  to  close  quarters  with  life, 
wrote  to  a  friend,  "  Our  personal  comforts  are 
delightful  but  not  essential,"  wrote  also, — and 
the  words  voice  no  heroic  dream  of  inexperi- 
ence, they  rise  out  of  the  thickest  of  the  fight 
for  Mount  Holyoke,  —  "  Had  I  a  thousand  lives, 
I  could  sacrifice  them  all  in  suffering  and  hard- 
ship for  its  sake.  Did  I  possess  the  greatest 
fortune,  I  could  readily  relinquish  it  all,  and 
become  poor,  and  more  than  poor,  if  its  pros- 
perity should  demand  it." 

Mount  Holyoke  was  all  in  Mary  Lyon's 
head.  Nothing  existed  to  which  she  could 
point  and  say,  "See!  It  works!"  People  had 
inclined  to  think  that  women's  education  could 
be  promoted  only  "by  local  feelings,  by  party 
spirit,  or  by  expectations  of  personal  advan- 


228    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

tage."  "The  plan  is  too  great,"  some  said. 
Though  religious  feeling  operated  powerfully 
in  foundings  for  men,  the  attempt  to  apply  to 
women's  concerns  the  slogan  "For  God  and 
Country,"  to  which  had  risen  Harvard,  Yale, 
Princeton,  Brown,  Williams,  Amherst,  and 
most  of  their  fellows,  struck  a  good  many  esti- 
mable persons  as  unwarranted,  indelicate,  and 
even  wicked. 

Half  a  century  after  these  difficult  years, 
William  Seymour  Tyler,  appointed  professor 
at  Amherst  in  1836,  later  a  trustee  of  Mount 
Holyoke,and  subsequently  first  president  of  the 
board  of  trustees  of  Smith  College,  rendered 
account  of  the  reception  accorded  to  what  he 
termed  the  first  of  the  Mount  Holyoke  ideas: 
"That  of  an  institution  with  a  board  of  trus- 
tees, a  permanent  faculty  of  instruction,  and  a 
fixed  course  of  studies,  with  suitable  buildings 
and  grounds,  with  proper  endowments  and 
permanent  funds,  with  library  and  laborato- 
ries and  apparatus  and  collections.  .  .  .  This 
whole  idea,  and  every  particular  that  I  have 
enumerated,  was  disputed,  repudiated,  ridi- 
culed, before  this  institution  was  founded.  But 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    229 

now  the  idea  and  all  the  particulars  are  settled 
principles  and  established  facts,  and  the  credit 
of  settling  them  belongs  to  Mount  Holyoke 
Seminary. 

"The  objections  to  this  idea  of  equalizing 
the  educational  advantages  of  the  two  sexes 
were  many  and  various,  and  not  always  con- 
sistent with  each  other  or  consonant  with  the 
courtesy  due  to  the  gentler  sex.  It  was  an  inno- 
vation uncalled  for,  unheard  of  until  now  since 
the  foundation  of  the  world,  and  unthought  of 
now  except  by  a  few  strong-minded  women  and 
radical  men,  who  would  level  all  distinctions 
and  overturn  the  foundations  of  the  family,  of 
society,  of  the  church,  and  of  the  state.  It  was 
unnatural,  unphilosophical,  unscriptural,  un- 
practical and  impracticable,  unfeminine  and 
anti- Christian ;  in  short  all  the  epithets  in  the 
dictionary  that  begin  with  un  and  in  and  anti 
were  hurled  against  and  heaped  upon  it.  Had 
not  Paul  said,  '  I  suffer  not  a  woman  to  teach 
nor  to  usurp  authority  over  the  man,  but  to  be 
in  silence;  and  if  they  will  learn  anything  let 
them  ask  their  husbands  at  home'  ?  It  would 
be  the  entering  wedge  to  woman's  preaching, 


230    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

practicing,  lecturing,  voting,  ruling,  buying  and 
selling,  doing  everything  that  men  do  and  per- 
haps doing  it  better  than  men  do,  and  so 
overstocking  all  the  trades  and  professions,  - 
hinc  illae  lacrymae  /  ...  At  the  same  time  it 
was  insisted  that  such  occupations  as  mathe- 
matics and  philosophy  were  not  suited  to  the 
tastes  or  the  capacities  of  women ;  they  did  n't 
want  them  and  would  n't  undertake  them ;  and 
if  they  did,  they  would  ruin  their  health,  impair 
their  gentleness,  delicacy,  modesty,  and  refine- 
ment, unsex  them,  and  unfit  them  for  their 
proper  sphere.  In  short,  it  was  like  the  famous 
logico-illogical  borrowed  kettle.  First :  it  never 
was  borrowed ;  second :  it  had  been  returned ; 
third:  it  was  broken  when  it  was  borrowed; 
and  fourth  :  it  was  whole  when  it  was  returned. 
"Miss  Lyon  herself  did  not  escape  severe 
criticism.  Her  pupils  and  associates  loved  and 
admired  her.  All  who  knew  her  honored  her. 
But  it  was  not  then  the  fashion  to  praise  her. 
She  had  not  yet  been  canonized.  She  was  well- 
nigh  a  martyr,  but  not  yet  a  saint.  She  was  her- 
self strong-minded,  they  said.  In  person  she 
was  no  fairy.  In  manner  she  was  not  one  of  the 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  231 

graces.  She  was  enthusiastic,  quixotic,  vision- 
ary, ambitious.  Her  masculine  intellect  was  no 
judge  of  woman's  capacities.  Her  robust  con- 
stitution was  no  measure  of  ordinary  women's 
health  and  strength  and  powers  of  endurance. 
It  was  unbecoming  her  sex  to  solicit  subscrip- 
tions in  person,  to  address  public  meetings,  to 
ride  all  over  the  country  with  Mr.  Hawks,  and 
ask  for  sixpenny  contributions." 

Even  Miss  Lyon's  friends  remonstrated 
against  these  departures  from  what  they 
termed  good  taste.  But  Miss  Lyon  "insisted 
that  it  was  better  to  violate  taste  than  not  to 
have  the  work  done."  "What  do  I  that  is 
wrong?"  she  demanded.  "I  ride  in  the  stage- 
coach or  cars  without  an  escort.  Other  ladies 
do  the  same.  I  visit  a  family  where  I  have  been 
previously  invited,  and  the  minister's  wife  or 
some  leading  woman  calls  the  ladies  together 
to  see  me,  and  I  lay  our  object  before  them.  Is 
that  wrong  ?  I  go  with  Mr.  Hawks  and  call  on 
a  gentleman  of  known  liberality  at  his  own 
house,  and  converse  with  him  about  our  enter- 
prise. What  harm  is  there  in  that  ?  If  there  is 
no  harm  in  doing  these  things  once,  what  harm 


232    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

is  there  in  doing  them  twice,  thrice,  or  even  a 
dozen  times  ?  My  heart  is  sick,  my  soul  is 
pained  with  this  empty  gentility,  this  genteel 
nothingness.  I  am  doing  a  great  work.  I  can- 
not come  down." 

Naturally  independent,  she  never  tried  to  be 
queer.  "In  deviating  from  others,  be  as  inof- 
fensive as  possible,"  she  said :  "  excite  no  need- 
less opposition."  But  in  matters  of  moment, 
where  she  knew  she  was  right,  people  must  con- 
form to  her,  not  she  to  them.  One  of  her  closest 
friends  wrote:  "She  made  the  impression  on 
every  one  with  whom  she  had  anything  to  do, 
from  the  common  day-laborer  to  the  president 
of  a  college,  that  if  she  set  herself  to  do  any- 
thing, it  was  of  no  use  to  oppose  her."  Three 
things,  as  she  had  once  recommended  to  stu- 
dents, she  now  determined  "cheerfully  to  en- 
dure," —  the  "opposition  and  ridicule  of  ene- 
mies to  the  cause" ;  "the  imprudent  measures 
and  misrepresentations  of  those  who  profess  to 
be  inquiring  after  the  truth" ;  and  "  the  discour- 
agements and  cold-heartedness  of  real  friends." 
To  her  the  goal  looked  large, "  possibly  greater," 
one  man  suggested,  "than  to  some  others." 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  233 

The  words  brought  her  no  dismay.  "The  ob- 
ject of  this  institution,"  she  said,  "penetrates 
too  far  into  futurity  and  takes  in  too  broad  a 
view  to  discover  its  claims  to  the  passing  mul- 
titude. We  appeal  in  its  behalf  to  wise  men 
who  can  judge  what  we  say.  We  appeal  to 
those  who  can  venture  as  pioneers  in  the  great 
work  of  renovating  a  world.  Others  may  stand 
waiting  for  the  great  multitude  to  go  forward." 
But  pioneering  seems  a  bit  reckless  to  most 
people.  So  many  thousands  of  dollars  was 
much  to  put  into  an  untried  scheme.  "You 
may  yourself  make  the  thing  go  admirably," 
wrote  another  man ;  "  your  successor  may  not 
be  equally  skilled,  and  there  may  be  failure." 
It  was  a  staunch  supporter  who  warned  her  lest 
the  wings  of  her  imagination  be  carrying  her  a 
little  too  high.  Fortified  as  she  was  against  her 
friends,  neither  the  indifference  of  ministers' 
associations  nor  the  gibes  of  sarcastic  editors 
could  turn  her  from  the  dream  on  which  her 
heart  was  set.  Criticism  did  not  take  her  by 
surprise.  Misunderstanding  did  not  daunt  her. 
"  I  suppose  you  have  heard  that  I  was  endea- 
voring to  establish  a  manual-labor  school  for 


234     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

ladies,"  she  wrote  Miss  White.  "I  have  heard 
so." 

The  calm  centre  of  the  storm,  she  preserved 
an  integrity  alike  of  body  and  of  soul.  More 
humor  went  into  the  making  of  Mount  Hoi- 
yoke  than  the  world  knows.  *'  I  shall  write  again 
soon  and  tell  you  some  of  the  ludicrous  things 
I  am  trying  to  do,"  she  scribbled  Miss  Grant 
from  an  overnight  stopping-place.  Her  merry 
heart  sucked  the  venom  from  many  a  bitter 
episode,  and  left  it  powerless  to  poison  mem- 
ory. Through  shadow  and  through  sunshine 
she  turned  a  friendly  face  to  all  her  kind.  A 
solicitor  who  traveled  with  her  for  weeks  but 
once  saw  her  discouraged,  and  then  only  for  a 
few  minutes.  She  never  sapped  her  energy  by 
worry  or  wasted  force  in  irritation.  Quite  sim- 
ply she  could  say,  as  she  did  say  three  or  four 
years  later,  "  I  learned  twenty  years  ago  never 
to  get  out  of  patience."  Neither  man  nor  wo- 
man succeeded  in  drawing  her  into  altercation ; 
she  would  argue  for  her  plans  fairly  and  vigor- 
ously, but  she  would  neither  "talk  back"  nor 
allow  another  to  do  it  for  her. 

In  the  last  months  of  this  stormy  session  with 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    235 

the  public  purse  a  particularly  virulent  article 
appeared  in  a  so-called  Religious  Magazine. 
It  aroused  Professor  Hitchcock  to  take  up  the 
cudgels  in  print.  The  editor-author  believed  in 
leaving  a  "young  lady  under  the  care  of  her 
natural  guardians  with  all  the  influences  of 
home  clustering  around  her."  But  allusions  to 
a  "Protestant  nunnery"  and  "servile  labor," 
sarcastic  personalities,  and  denunciations  of 
women  teachers  as  "masculine,"  could  not  de- 
flect Miss  Lyon  from  the  way  of  highest  dig- 
nity. Pins  in  the  hands  of  little  men  might 
prick,  but  she  was  too  big  to  notice  them. 
Mr.  Hitchcock  gave  her  his  article,  to  be 
published  or  suppressed  as  she  should  choose. 
"That  was  the  last  I  ever  saw  of  it,"  he  said. 
A  simple  faith  was  her  working  hypothesis 
of  life.  "Faith's  business  is  to  make  things 
real,"  she  said.  More  closely  than  most  Chris- 
tians she  acted  on  what  she  believed.  Prayer 
was  a  habit  with  her,  —  no  ceaseless  petition- 
ing, but  a  constant  intercourse ;  and  she  asked 
others  to  pray ;  particularly  she  believed  in  the 
force  of  her  mother's  prayers.  "  Mary  will  not 
give  up,"  her  mother  told  an  Ashfield  neighbor. 


236     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

"She  just  walks  the  floor  and  says  over  and 
over  again,  when  all  is  so  dark,  '  Commit  thy 
way  unto  the  Lord,  trust  also  in  Him,  and  He 
shall  bring  it  to  pass.  Women  must  be  educated 
—  they  must  be ! "  A  habit  of  prayer  and  a 
sense  of  humor  forge  invincible  armor. 

Meanwhile  many  forces  were  working  for  her. 
The  very  articles  that  provoked  adjectives  like 
"chimerical"  and  "wicked"  met  eyes  of  dis- 
criminating intelligence.  The  nicety  of  empha- 
sis which  made  New  England  a  citadel  of  intel- 
lectual conservatism  and  gave  to  its  concessions 
a  compelling  weight  rendered  it  vulnerable  to 
argument.  Mary  Lyon  appealed  to  the  com- 
mon sense,  the  intelligence,  the  spirit  of  fair 
play  in  New  Englanders.  And  the  deep  heart 
of  New  England  answered  her,  beating,  as  it 
has  nearly  always  beat,  in  the  right  place. 
Newspapers  of  the  time  noted  in  Northampton 
a  "  large  and  respectable  "  meeting  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen  from  all  parts  of  the  county  who 
gathered  in  the  Edwards  Church  and,  decid- 
ing that  "females"  had  not  yet  received  their 
due  share  of  public  attention,  proceeded  to  put 
themselves  on  record  as  favoring  the  new  pro- 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    237 

ject.  But  the  centres  of  population,  gallantly  as 
they  now  and  then  responded,  did  not  bear  the 
brunt  of  financing  the  venture.  Mount  Holyoke 
was  won  in  those  countless  unrecorded  assem- 
blies in  country  churches  and  in  district  school- 
houses,  where  audiences  saw  the  strange  sight 
of  a  woman  sitting  in  the  teacher's  chair,  and 
paid  her  the  compliment  of  going  away  thought- 
ful. A  minister  —  more  than  one  was  often 
present  —  introduced  Miss  Lyon  to  these  meet- 
ings. "  She  did  not  need  anybody  to  speak  for 
her,"  a  man  said  after  one  of  them.  Her  ad- 
dress was  as  alien  to  common  usage  as  was 
her  presence.  She  had  that  directness  of  method 
which  is  the  prerogative  of  greatness.  There 
was  in  it  no  circumlocution,  no  confusion.  Reli- 
gion she  made  a  very  simple  vital  experience, 
—  "It  is  you  and  I  and  God,  nothing  else"; 
the  education  of  women,  a  very  pressing  need. 
She  told  of  the  new  school  that  was  being 
founded  and  offered  her  hearers  an  opportu- 
nity to  help.  A  vivid  quality  in  her  speech  took 
hold  on  their  hearts  and  made  her  words  per- 
sist in  memory.  After  the  span  of  a  long  life- 
time a  man  heard  the  echo  of  her  voice  as  it 


238     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

had  sounded  of  a  summer  afternoon  in  the  ears 
of  a  boy :  "  Don't  think  any  gift  too  small.  I 
want  the  twenties  [and  the]  fifties,  but  the  dol- 
lars and  half  dollars,  with  prayer,  go  a  great 
way.  We  are  to  have  prayer  in  the  new  build- 
ing, so  let  it  be  gifts  with  prayer." 

She  spoke  out  of  a  great  sincerity,  and  behind 
her  words  pressed  the  authority  of  her  life.  The 
plain-living,  high-thinking  people  of  New  Eng- 
land farms  and  villages  were  not  to  be  frightened 
by  bogies.  They  knew  that  she  knew  what  she 
was  talking  about.  The  schools  at  Buckland 
and  Ashfield,  the  seminary  at  Derry  and  Ips- 
wich, reenforced  her  speech.  Young  women 
had  come  from  them,  not  less,  but  more  home- 
loving,  healthy,  and  useful  than  they  went.  If 
she  dreamed  dreams,  these  hard-headed  men 
and  women,  wringing  meagre  livings  from 
rocky  hillsides,  understood  very  well  that  no- 
thing is  more  real  than  the  stuff  that  dreams 
are  made  of.  Their  sons  grew  up  to  be  editors, 
statesmen,  preachers,  presidents  of  colleges. 
They  would  give  their  daughters  a  chance,  too. 
Miss  Lyon  made  them  a  business  proposition 
and  they  took  her  record  as  security,  looking 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  239 

to  her  to  get  their  money's  worth.  One  daugh- 
terless  man,  tilling  a  farm  not  over  fertile  and 
with  five  sons  to  educate,  gave  her  a  hundred 
dollars.  Two  spinster  sisters  living  in  the  slen- 
der comfort  of  their  time  signed  each  for  the 
same  sum ;  soon  afterwards  they  lost  their  pro- 
perty, but  rather  than  be  denied  the  pleasure  of 
fulfilling  their  pledges,  they  earned  the  money 
with  their  own  hands.  Of  such  gifts  was  Mount 
Holyoke  built. 

Of  course,  people  sometimes  cruelly  disap- 
pointed her  faith.  They  were  not  usually  those 
whose  purses  were  most  empty.  The  charming 
silver-haired  lady  who  so  graciously  presides 
in  "White  Homestead"  has  sent  the  following 
account  of  an  incident  which  is  still  a  picture 
in  her  memory.  "  On  one  of  the  many  occasions 
when,  as  a  child,  I  witnessed  the  coming,  the 
tarrying,  and  the  going  of  Miss  Lyon  through 
the  welcoming  doors  of  this  home,  she  arrived 
at  early  evening,  unexpectedly,  sure  as  always 
of  a  warm  reception.  The  stage  had  brought 
her  from  Northampton,  Amherst,  or  Greenfield, 
and  she  came  full  of  expectation  and  enthusi- 
asm. Would  Mr.  White  take  her  at  once  to 


240     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

W — ,  where,  she  had  learned,  was  living  a 
family  of  wealth  who  might  give  liberally  for 
the  seminary  buildings  then  going  up  ?  '  Supper 
and  a  good  night's  rest,  Miss  Lyon,  and  then 
my  horses  shall  take  you  there.'  Next  morning, 
just  as  they  were  starting,  my  grandmother  in 
her  gentle  way  laid  her  hand  on  Miss  Lyon's 
shoulder,  saying,  'Do  not  expect  much,  my 
dear  Miss  Lyon.  We  know  the  people.  I  fear 
you  will  not  be  successful.'  With  a  beaming 
face  Miss  Lyon  replied, '  Oh,  I  am  told  they  are 
very  rich  and  I  am  sure  they  will  help  liberally.' 
As  Miss  Lyon  entered,  on  their  return,  I  stood 
by  my  grandmother's  side  and  saw  the  play  of 
conflicting  emotions  over  her  mobile  features 
as  she  grasped  the  arm  of  her  friend,  saying, 
*  Yes,  it  is  all  true,  just  as  I  was  told.  They  live 
in  a  costly  house,  it  is  full  of  costly  things,  they 
wear  costly  clothes'  — then  drawing  nearer  and 
almost  closing  her  eyes,  she  whispered  with  un- 
forgettable emphasis,  'But  oh,  they're  little 
bits  of  folks!'" 

The  distinctive  gift  of  an  organizer,  ability 
to  fit  workers  to  the  work,  was  hers  in  rare 
measure.  People  walked  before  her  like  open 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  241 

books,  casual  talk  yielding  judgments  which 
she  seldom  found  cause  radically  to  change. 
And  it  is  no  disparagement  of  the  native  fine- 
ness of  her  lieutenants  to  say  that  they  were 
nobler  men  and  women  for  working  by  her  side. 
Dr.  Humphrey,  Mr.  Hitchcock's  predecessor 
in  the  Amherst  presidency,  once  described  Miss 
Lyon's  influence  over  people  as  holding  them 
in  "  a  sort  of  enchanted  circle  ...  by  invisible 
attractions  which  it  was  hard  to  resist  and  from 
which  very  few  wished  to  be  released."  Ye,t  it 
must  be  said  that  she  never  tried  to  sweep  others 
into  accord  with  her  by  sheer  force  of  her  own 
momentum.  From  first  to  last  many  forwarded 
her  plans  for  a  time  who  did  not  see  their  way 
to  continue  in  the  work ;  but  when  one  helper 
fell  away  she  found  another.  The  ability  to 
value  and  to  use  equipments  quite  foreign  to 
her  own,  richly  augmented  her  resources.  Of 
the  indefatigable  Mr.  Hawks  she  told  Miss 
Beecher:  "Whatever  may  be  thought  of  my 
sanguine  temperament,  he  cannot  be  charged 
with  being  over-zealous.  But  his  deficiency  in 
zeal  is  more  than  made  up  by  his  unwearied 
efforts,  his  never-ending  patience  and  perse- 


242    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

verance,  his  sound  common  sense,  his  careful 
observation  of  human  nature,  and  his  intimate 
acquaintance  with  New  England  people." 

She  always  sought  skilled  hands  into  which  to 
commit  definite  duties.  Her  method  of  approach 
appears  in  the  story  told  of  her  first  interview 
with  Andrew  Porter.  It  was  on  a  snowy  day 
in  April  that  she  drove  to  Monson  to  acquaint 
one  of  the  best  business  men  in  western  Massa- 
chusetts with  the  trustees'  request  that  he  take 
charge  of  building,  an  oversight  for  which  ex- 
perience had  aptly  fitted  him.  Mr.  Porter  was 
not  at  home  and  Miss  Lyon  awaited  his  return. 
During  the  days  that  passed  before  she  spoke 
with  him  she  prayed  both  for  courage  to  make 
her  request  and  for  willingness  to  receive  his 
answer.  At  first  he  verged  toward  refusal ;  over- 
work had  recently  led  to  his  partial  withdrawal 
from  business.  She  pointed  out  that  this  would 
give  him  more  time,  and  asked  that  he  withhold 
a  final  decision.  Mrs.  Porter  allied  herself  with 
Miss  Lyon.  For  three  years  she  had  desired  her 
husband  to  relinquish  business  cares ;  now  she 
wished  him  to  take  them  on  "  and  trust  the  Lord 
for  health."  Eventually  he  accepted  the  com- 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  243 

mission,  and  for  forty  years  "Deacon"  Porter 
freely  gave  Mount  Holyoke  of  his  money  and 
his  time. 

"Deacon"  Safford,  a  wealthy  Boston  manu- 
facturer and  the  largest  donor  to  the  project, 
was  another  trustee  who  caught  his  wife's  en- 
thusiasm. He  had  himself  cherished  vague 
notions  of  more  democratic  education  for  girls. 
Of  these  he  spoke  to  his  brother-in-law,  Dr. 
Edwards  of  Andover  Theological  Seminary, 
who  told  him  that  Miss  Lyon  was  working  along 
this  line  of  thought.  Already  Mr.  Safford  knew 
her,  but  the  pressure  of  other  interests  crowded 
the  matter  from  his  mind  until  she  herself  re- 
vived his  recollections.  From  that  time,  his 
house  became  her  Boston  home. 

Wisely  as  she  knew  how  to  choose  her  aids, 
she  commanded  as  well  the  subtler  art  of  work- 
ing with  them.  An  indefinable  fusing  influence 
went  out  from  her.  They  might  differ  radically 
in  opinion,  they  were  one  in  loyalty.  Scholars, 
farmers,  business  men,  delicate  and  lovely  wo- 
men lit  their  torches  from  her  devotion.  "  It 
is  an  object  that  lies  very  near  my  heart,"  wrote 
Mrs.  Porter  of  what  she  called,  in  its  promise, 


244    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

"our  beloved  institution."  Joseph  Avery  of 
Conway,  another  trustee  who  made  the  affairs 
of  Holyoke  as  pressing  as  his  private  concerns, 
could  so  ill  bear  to  see  a  cent  of  the  money  given 
it  go  to  waste  that  he  paid  for  a  useless  archi- 
tect's plan  out  of  his  own  pocket,  without  de- 
creasing his  large  subscription.  Miss  Lyon  her- 
self testified  that  Professor  Hitchcock  had  been 
"  compelled  often  either  to  give  over  the  enter- 
prise or  to  perform  labors  to  which  few  men 
would  be  competent." 

The  blackest  days  of  those  chequered  years 
drew  on  with  the  summer  of  1836.  "The  times 
grow  worse  and  worse,"  she  wrote  that  spring. 
The  trustees  had  promised  to  begin  building 
when  the  pledges  should  reach  the  twenty-five 
thousand  dollar  mark.  While  pinching  circum- 
stance deferred  the  date,  their  very  caution  dis- 
couraged confidence.  "  It  is  now  more  than  two 
years  since  they  began  to  talk  about  that  school, 
and  the  building  is  not  even  commenced," 
cried  a  traveler.  "  Why  don't  they  set  the  car- 
penters to  work  and  then  send  their  agents  out 
to  solicit  funds  ?" 

Sensing  to  the  full  the  psychological  value  of 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  245 

making  a  start,  Miss  Lyon  had  the  previous 
summer  thought  of  borrowing  a  few  thousands 
on  which  to  begin.  Yet  the  trustees  had  not 
been  idle.  In  March  they  had  called  for  esti- 
mates of  building,  in  May  they  had  chosen  a 
site.  In  July  they  reconsidered.  ToMissLyon's 
mind,  guiltless  of  favoritism  toward  the  spot 
selected,  this  action  presaged  danger.  Lines 
of  disagreement  had  been  too  sharply  drawn 
before.  "Another  dark  cloud  seems  now  to  be 
gathering  over  our  prospects,"  she  wrote  Miss 
Grant,  "perhaps  one  of  the  darkest  that  has 
ever  hung  over  our  enterprise,  and  yet  I  can 
scarcely  tell  why  it  should  be  so."  Steadily  she 
opposed  reopening  the  question  of  location,  lest 
it  hazard  all ;  but  she  found  several  men  so  dis- 
satisfied with  the  place  selected  that  she  waived 
her  own  judgment  and  agreed  to  a  special  meet- 
ing of  the  building  committee.  At  this  session 
it  was  decided  to  call  a  meeting  of  the  trus- 
tees. 

And  then,  with  her  heart  full  of  forebodings, 
she  went  quietly  away  to  Norton  to  spend  the 
Intervening  days,  and  "to  see,"  as  she  said, 
"how  the  new  house  comes  on."  The  "new 


246    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

house"  was  a  dormitory  which,  against  fears 
bred  by  its  novelty,  Miss  Caldwell  declared  that 
Miss  Lyon  fairly  "talked  into  being."  Giving 
herself  in  generous  thought  to  Wheaton,  she 
escaped  the  wear  and  tear  of  conjecture  about 
Mount  Holyoke.  It  was  never  her  way  to  an- 
ticipate decisions.  "I  do  not  ask  you  now  to 
consider  this  question,"  she  once  advised  a 
niece,  "  because  I  think  it  better  to  defer  the 
serious  consideration  of  important  questions 
till  they  can  be  put  into  a  definite  shape  and 
till  the  time  has  really  arrived  for  considering 
them."  By  such  restraints  she  carried  without 
staggering  a  load  that  would  have  crushed  an- 
other. Yet  written  to  Zilpah  Grant  under  the 
shadow  of  this  threatening  cloud,  so  bravely 
resisted,  these  rare  sentences  of  self-revelation 
withdraw  the  veil  for  a  moment  from  before 
the  quivering  intimate  heart  of  her.  "I  do 
not  know  that  I  uniformly  expect  much  in  this 
world,  but  ere  I  am  aware,  I  find  myself  in- 
dulging the  prospect  that  the  present  trying  cir- 
cumstances will  be  over,  that  in  time  I  shall  be 
settled  down  again  in  a  pleasant  field  for  doing 
good,  where  I  shall  not  be  constantly  changing, 


with  no  resting-place,  and  constantly  meeting 
with  one  obstacle  after  another.  I  always  fear 
when  I  find  my  heart  thus  clinging  to  the  hope- 
of  future  good." 

The  trustees  confirmed  the  site  already 
chosen,  but  the  "trying  circumstances"  held 
on  tenaciously.  Only  a  part  of  the  contemplated 
building  could  be  put  up ;  its  completion  must 
wait  for  easier  times.  With  the  cellar  nearly 
dug,  quicksand  was  discovered.  On  examina- 
tion, an  expert  pronounced  the  ground  safe, 
but  better  a  little  farther  back.  Sixty  feet  from 
the  road  the  digging  began  again.  "I  wish  it 
could  have  gone  much  farther  back,  but  this 
was  something  I  could  not  control,"  wrote  Miss 
Lyon.  The  authority  on  foundations  raised  a 
doubt  about  the  quality  of  the  bricks.  No  more 
could  be  had  until  they  were  made  the  next 
summer.  A  second  expert  reinstated  the  bricks 
in  the  good  opinion  of  their  purchasers.  Work 
was  going  merrily  when  one  morning,  while 
the  masons  breakfasted,  the  walls  collapsed. 
'  Then,"  said  the  man  in  charge,  "  I  did  dread 
to  meet  Miss  Lyon.  Now,  thought  I,  she  will 
be  discouraged."  But  as  he  hurried  toward  the 


248    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

ruins,  she  met  him,  smiling  and  exclaiming  joy- 
ously over  the  workmen's  escape. 

In  the  midst  of  these  mischances  the  corner- 
stone was  laid.  A  golden  October  day  wrapped 
in  the  mantle  of  its  deep  content  the  intrepid 
men  and  women  who  gathered  in  South  Hadley 
thus  to  seal  their  work.  Some  consciousness  of 
the  unique  value  of  the  occasion  must  have 
quickened  their  pulses,  something  of  decorous 
rejoicing  have  looked  out  of  their  faces.  Yet 
the  day  gave  pause,  not  surcease.  From  it  they 
took  renewed  devotion  against  the  busy  months 
to  come.  But  to  her  who  saw  more  than  they 
all,  whose  sure-footed  imagination  already 
walked  those  unbuilt  halls,  traversing  the 
length  and  breadth  of  them,  whose  eyes  had 
peeped  into  room  after  room  before  one  stone 
was  set  upon  another,  visualizing  the  very  girls 
at  study  within  them  —  to  her  the  day  brought 
a  draft  of  deep  refreshment.  The  triumph  of  it 
thrills  in  her  words  to  Zilpah  Grant:  "The 
stones  and  brick  and  mortar  speak  a  language 
which  vibrates  through  my  very  soul.  How 
much  thought  and  how  much  feeling  have  I 
had  on  this  general  subject  in  years  that  are 


HI 


. 

. 

Hi* 

fflPk  I  id 


MOUNT   HOLYOKE   FOUNDED     249 

past !  And  I  have  indeed  lived  to  see  the  time 
when  a  body  of  gentlemen  have  ventured  to 
lay  the  corner-stone  of  an  edifice  which  will 
cost  about  fifteen  thousand  dollars  —  and  for 
an  institution  for  females.  Surely  the  Lord  hath 
remembered  our  low  estate.  This  will  be  an  era 
in  female  education.  The  work  will  not  stop 
with  this  institution.  This  enterprise  may  have 
to  struggle  through  embarrassments  for  years, 
but  its  influence  will  be  felt.  It  is  a  concession 
on  the  part  of  gentlemen  in  our  behalf,  which 
can  be  used  again  and  again." 

She  needed  all  the  invigoration  that  such  a 
day  could  give  her.  Though  with  visible  ac- 
tivity, interest  quickened,  and  gifts  increased, 
the  building  committee  continually  faced  a  pos- 
sible suspension  of  work.  Hard  times  shrunk 
payments  on  old  subscriptions,  dated  new  ones 
far  ahead,  and  tied  up  money  away  from  even 
Deacon  Porter's  ability  to  borrow.  Quite  how 
near  Mount  Holyoke  came  more  than  once  to 
shipwreck,  a  few  of  the  yellowed  letters  make 
very  plain.  But  one  stood  at  the  helm  who 
stopped  at  no  personal  sacrifice ;  tireless,  watch- 
ful, alert  to  each  new  peril.  When  men  coun- 


seled  delay,  she  urged  that  they  go  forward.  A 
torn  letter,  the  dated  leaf  gone,  lies  under  my 
hand,  in  which  she  sent  word  to  her  lawyer 
through  his  daughter  that  she  wished  to  advance 
to  the  trustees,  as  she  said,  "the  little  that  I 
possess  as  I  am  very  anxious  they  should  build. 
...  I  suppose  no  one  to  whom  your  father 
has  lent  money  which  is  now  due  could  object 
to  paying  it  with  a  notice  of  six  months."  Be- 
fore the  river  froze,  lumber  must  be  bought; 
and  the  month  after  the  exercises  around  the 
corner-stone  found  Mary  Lyon  up  and  away, 
collecting  overdue  subscriptions,  pressing  others 
into  the  work,  and  calling  in  money  owed  her 
personal  account  that  she  might  lend  it  on  the 
doubtful  security  of  a  donation  paper.  In  March 
Mr.  Porter  closed  contracts  with  the  mechan- 
ics for  finishing  the  building.  In  May  Mrs. 
Porter  wrote  Miss  Lyon  at  Norton:  "I  rejoice 
to  hear  you  think  of  coming  next  week.  I  think 
it  important  you  should.  I  will  now  tell  you  in 
confidence  that  husband  and  I  believe  all  the 
building  committee  are  becoming  discouraged 
about  proceeding  with  the  building,  fearing  it 
will  not  be  possible  to  raise  the  ten  thousand 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  251 

dollars  which  will  be  necessary  by  the  first  of 
October,  if  they  advance.  .  .  .  Now  if  you  can 
come,  it  may  raise  their  drooping  spirits." 

Yet  through  the  spring  Mount  Holyoke  had 
been  steadily  gaining  friends.  Mr.  Porter 
talked  of  it  in  New  York,  and  wealthy  men 
lent  him  approving  ears.  In  Boston  Mr.  Saff  ord 
issued  invitations  to  a  meeting  at  his  house, 
and  more  than  three  thousand  dollars  was  sub- 
scribed on  a  rainy  night.  It  was  not  a  day  of 
huge  fortunes.  In  her  record  of  the  evening 
Miss  Lyon  flashes  a  side-light  on  decorum  in 
the  thirties.  "The  gentlemen  thought  there 
would  be  no  impropriety  in  their  admitting 
three  ladies  to  hear  what  was  being  said  on  the 
subject,  —  Mrs.  Safford,  Miss  Caldwell,  and 
myself.  Deacon  Safford  wanted  that  we  should 
be  present,  and  asked  the  opinion  of  several 
gentlemen,  who  thought  it  would  be  proper  and 
approved  of  it."  Later  in  the  year,  a  gift  came 
from  as  far  south  as  Alabama. 

While  men  prepared  the  shell,  Miss  Lyon  had 
made  herself  responsible  for  the  furnishings, 
and  here  again  she  turned  trustfully  to  women. 
When  building  commenced,  she  began  sow- 


252    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

ing  her  letters  broadcast  through  the  country 
among  her  own  and  her  friends'  friends.  Wis- 
dom tempered  the  request  to  their  abilities. 
Her  scheme  provided  for  the  furnishing  of  stu- 
dent rooms,  each  by  a  single  town,  through 
the  united  generosity  of  its  ladies.  This  plan 
gave  definiteness  to  aim  and  locality  to  interest. 
Any  person  able  to  contribute  more  than  a 
moderate  amount  was  urged  to  help  swell  the 
general  furniture  fund.  And  since  what  is  every- 
body's business  is  never  done,  she  committed 
the  project  in  every  community  to  one  woman 
of  influence  and  energy.  But  again  her  pres- 
ence proved  more  potent  than  print.  These  are 
the  matters  on  which  we  have  found  her  talking 
with  the  women  while  Mr.  Hawks  interviewed 
the  men.  Many  towns  failed  in  such  trying 
times  to  reach  the  fifty  or  sixty  dollar  mark  set 
for  a  room ;  others  were  reported  as  engrossed 
in  their  own  concerns.  But  sometimes  a  single 
person  gave  more  than  the  specified  amount. 
One  man  furnished  a  room  in  memory  of  his 
daughter;  a  woman  promised  to  give  most  or 
all  of  the  crockery.  Small  sums  crept  to  the 
hands  of  women  known  to  be  interested.  The 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  253 

students  and  teachers  of  Wheaton  Seminary 
contributed  over  two  hundred  dollars  for  one 
of  the  parlors.  Gifts,  big  and  little,  from  chil- 
dren, students,  home-keeping  girls,  ladies  of 
wealth,  and  women  "eager  and  willing,"  but 
"chiefly  dependent  on  their  palm-leaf  hats" 
for  spending-money  —  she  welcomed  them  all 
gladly  and  put  them  all  to  use. 

In  the  widespread  loyalty  which  they  repre- 
sent, these  records  read  like  the  donations  to 
seventeenth-century  Harvard  when  the  united 
New  England  colonies  rallied  to  the  support  of 
the  first  college  for  men,  families  giving  to  it  out 
of  their  poverty  a  cow  or  a  sheep,  corn  or  salt, 
a  piece  of  cloth  or  of  silver  plate.  Yet  by  that 
perilous  June  two  hundred  years  later,  not  a 
third  of  Mount  Holyoke's  necessary  furniture 
had  come  in.  "Everything  that  is  done  for 
us  now,"  cried  Miss  Lyon,  "seems  like  giv- 
ing bread  to  the  hungry  and  cold  water  to  the 
thirsty." 

That  busy,  busy  year  of  1837 !  With  marvel- 
ous dexterity  she  kept  all  her  balls  soaring. 
Questions  of  teachers  and  apparatus,  applica- 
tions of  students,  had  long  held  her  thought, 


254    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY   LYON 

and  to  them  she  brought  the  experience  of 
years.  But  when  Mrs.  Porter  asked  her  to  ex- 
amine dining  and  tea  sets,  she  ventured  on 
fresh  ground.  In  the  first  weeks  of  summer  the 
status  of  the  furniture  fund  kept  her  constantly 
on  the  road.  By  midsummer  South  Hadley  im- 
peratively demanded  her  presence.  Now  men 
labored  on  the  interior,  and  the  woman  who  in 
consultation  with  wise  friends  had  planned  the 
rooms  and  knew  their  every  use  by  heart  had 
much  to  do.  She  ate  and  slept  at  the  home 
of  the  courtly  Princetonian,  Reverend  Joseph 
Condit,  and  spent  her  days  with  the  workmen. 
"  When  the  joiner- work  was  done,"  wrote  Mrs. 
Eunice  Caldwell  Cowles,  "  she  made  ready  for 
the  mason;  when  the  masonry  was  done,  she 
made  ready  for  the  painter;  and  when  the 
painter  had  done,  she  saw  to  the  drying.  The 
workmen  might  complain  of  her  interference 
and  dictation,  but  it  was  little  she  minded  the 
complaining  if  the  work  was  done  to  her  mind." 
Week  after  week,  on  Monday  Mr.  Porter 
drove  the  twenty-one  miles  from  Monson,  and 
on  Saturday  drove  back.  Were  he  present  or 
absent,  many  questions  came  to  Miss  Lyon  for 


MOUNT   HOLYOKE   FOUNDED     255 

decision.  She  despatched  them  quickly,  and 
as  quickly  reversed  a  verdict  if  later  she  saw 
just  cause.  Nothing  short  of  the  best  satisfied 
her,  the  most  convenient.  "  My  head  is  full  of 
closets,  shelves,  cupboards,  doors,  sinks,  tables, 
etc.,"  she  wrote  her  mother.  "  You  will  think 
this  new  work  for  me  and  indeed  it  is."  That 
she  could  do  it  so  successfully  is  the  best  refuta- 
tion of  the  charge  that  love  of  mental  pursuits 
necessarily  spoils  a  woman  for  practical  con- 
cerns. 

In  these  months  she  put  behind  her  an  in- 
credible amount  of  work.  Her  salvation  lay  in 
despatch.  "I  have  so  much  letter- writing  to 
do  that  I  seem  not  to  have  much  time  for  any- 
thing else,"  was  her  lament,  "and  yet  I  have 
five  times  as  much  as  I  can  do  which  I  wish 
to  do." 

The  date  of  receiving  students,  more  than 
once  deferred,  had  now  been  set  for  the  eighth 
of  November.  Already  people  questioned  its 
possibility.  All  the  money  that  the  trustees  felt 
justified  in  borrowing  on  the  security  of  unpaid 
subscriptions  was  needed  to  complete  the  build- 
ing, and  still  the  furniture  ran  menacingly 


256    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

short.  Expected  bedding  failed  to  arrive. 
Again  and  again  that  fall  Miss  Lyon  drew  on 
her  own  resources  for  hundreds  of  dollars.  "  I 
doubt  not  that  I  shall  have  all  I  need  in  this 
world,  but  I  should  be  very  much  tried  to  want 
to  obtain  something  for  the  seminary  which  I 
thought  it  best  to  pay  for  myself,  but  could  not 
for  the  want  of  money."  As  a  last  resort  an  ap- 
peal went  forth  for  the  temporary  loan  of  such 
things  as  were  imperatively  needed,  to  be  re- 
turned when  the  women  who  were  furnishing 
rooms  should  get  their  money  raised.  To  en- 
tering students  she  wrote  asking  them  to  see 
what  they  could  borrow  among  their  friends, 
and  to  report  to  her ;  a  request,  not  a  mandate, 
made  with  hesitancy  lest  it  be  misunderstood. 
In  June  she  had  written  a  niece:  "Some- 
times it  seems  as  if  my  heart  would  sink  under 
the  weight  that  rests  upon  me.  How  all  can  be 
done  that  must  be  done  before  the  first  of  No- 
vember I  know  not."  To  her  dearest  friend  she 
confided  in  mid-September:  "When  I  look 
through  to  November  eighth  it  seems  like  look- 
ing down  a  precipice  of  many  hundred  feet, 
which  I  must  descend.  I  can  only  avoid  look- 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  257 

ing  to  the  bottom,  and  fix  my  eye  on  the  near- 
est stone  till  I  have  safely  reached  it." 

Beyond  South  Hadley  people  laughed,  de- 
nounced, or  hoped,  as  was  their  way.  Some  of 
them  prayed.  But  many  kept  company  with 
the  woman  who  once  told  Miss  Lyon  that, 
while  she  thought  the  plan  excellent,  she  feared 
Mount  Holyoke  would  prove  like  a  wonderful 
machine  Dr.  Beecher  used  to  tell  of,  "admi- 
rably contrived,  admirably  adjusted,  but  it  had 
one  fault  —  it  would  n't  go! " 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   FOUNDING   OF  _  MOUNT   HOLYOKE, 

Continued 

THE  hours  dwindled  toward  the  eighth  of  No- 
vember. For  days  from  all  points  of  the  com- 
pass students  had  been  converging  on  South 
Hadley  by  stage-coach  and  private  carriage. 
Girls,  stiff  from  riding  almost  continuously 
since  before  dawn,  on  the  last  afternoon  of 
grace  were  swung  from  chaises  by  fathers  and 
friends'  fathers,  to  stumble  through  a  side  door 
into  a  five-storied  brick  building  that  rose,  stark 
and  blindless,  out  of  a  waste  of  sand.  Deacon 
Porter  was  helping  lay  the  front  threshold,  paint 
pots  and  work  benches  furnished  the  parlors, 
and  Miss  Lyon  met  them  in  the  dining-room. 
There  stood  tables  spread  for  the  hungry ;  near 
by,  a  merry  group  of  young  women  were  hem- 
ming linen  and  finishing  off  quilts  and  coun- 
terpanes. Hammer- strokes  resounded  through 
the  house.  Coatless,  on  his  knees  in  "  seminary 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  259 

hall,"  Deacon  Safford  tacked  matting,  looking 
up  with  a  smiling  word  to  new  comers :  "  We 
are  in  glorious  confusion  now,  but  we  hope  for 
better  order  soon."  In  Miss  Lyon's  parlor  Elihu 
Dwight  of  the  village  laid  carpet  with  girlish 
"help."  Trustees'  wives  washed  dishes  in  the 
kitchen, — fragile  Mrs.  Porter,  lovely  Mrs.  Saf- 
ford in  her  dainty  French  calico  with  its  gay 
ribbons.  Upstairs,  young  Mr.  Dwight's  con- 
temporaries were  busy  under  soft- voiced  direc- 
tion setting  up  beds,  putting  furniture  in  place, 
now  and  then  dashing  out  to  unload  a  cart 
freshly  arrived  at  the  seminary's  door,  lend- 
ing themselves  to  many  labors.  In  time  John 
Dwight  gave  his  aid  to  Nancy  Everett,  and 
amid  all  the  straitened  hubbub  of  that  No- 
vember day,  two  buildings  of  the  later  Mount 
Holyoke  began  to  take  misty  shape  within  the 
future. 

Activity  was  contagious.  Fathers  found  men 
ready  to  lend  a  hand  for  a  moment,  and  trunks 
whisked  upstairs.  Students  unpacked  swiftly 
and  came  down  ready  to  join  in  the  joyous 
cooperation  that  turned  work  into  play  and 
removed  homesickness  afar  off.  "We  were  as 


260     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

busy  as  bees  and  as  happy  as  could  be,"  runs 
the  record.  "  The  very  pulse  of  the  machine," 
Miss  Lyon  moved  here,  there,  everywhere; 
greeting  new  students  with  the  intimate  word 
that  bespoke  remembrance  of  their  letters ;  call- 
ing for  volunteers  and  setting  them  enthusiasti- 
cally to  sewing,  paring  apples,  unpacking  fur- 
niture, giving  out  bedding  as  the  boxes  came ; 
or,  with  swift  divination  of  individual  need, 
insisting  on  sending  her  dinner  to  the  room  of 
some  three  days'  traveler  —  stealing  the  hearts 
out  of  their  bodies  by  the  warmth  of  her  cordial 
touch,  the  sunny  goodness  of  her  face.  Her 
spirit  commingled  with  the  adventurous  soul 
of  youth  in  an  alchemy  that  gilded  discomfort 
and  transformed  want  into  abounding  plenty. 
What  matter  that  the  first  night  there  were  not 
beds  enough  to  sleep  on  ?  At  Miss  Lyon's  re- 
quest the  old  families  of  South  Hadley  opened 
their  hospitable  doors  to  students  as  readily 
as  their  sons  had  given  her  of  their  young 
muscle. 

For  weeks  the  women  of  the  town  had  aided 
in  carry  ing  forward  her  preparations.  "  How 
kind  the  South  Hadley  people  were  to  us !"  one 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  261 

writes  under  date  of  November  eighth.  Another 
girl's  journal  remarks:  "Helped  get  the  first 
breakfast  at  Holyoke.  Miss  Lyon  and  I  were 
the  first  to  appear  in  the  kitchen."  There  had 
been  no  time  for  further  diarizing ;  the  busy  day 
sped  on,  unwritten.  Examinations  began  to 
go  forward  amid  the  clamor  of  alien  activities. 
Singly,  in  twos,  in  groups,  the  girls  took  them, 
teachers  and  students  seated  together  on  the 
stairs,  or  side  by  side  on  a  pile  of  mattresses  in 
a  hall-way,  little  oases  of  scholarly  seclusion. 
Classing  by  inquisition  into  real  attainment  held 
the  spice  of  novelty  for  young  women,  many  of 
whom  had  spent  their  lives  attending  schools, 
but  who  now  with  comic  light-heartedness  saw 
their  bags  of  knowledge  strangely  shrinking. 
And  then  at  four  o'clock,  when  the  last  tack 
had  been  driven  in  "  seminary  hall,"  a  pause  fell 
on  the  fleet  occupations.  With  examinations  far 
from  finished,  and  many  loads  of  furniture  still 
on  the  road,  a  bell  rang  and  Mount  Holyoke 
opened. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  at  its  inception  the 
new  institution  drew  fortune  from  misfortune, 
strangling  in  its  cradle  privations  that  threat- 


262     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

ened  existence,  against  odds  winning  a  stronger 
hold  on  life.  For  beneath  the  merry  bustle  of 
those  opening  days,  under  the  high-hearted 
breasting  of  inconvenience  and  even  of  aus- 
terity, were  weaving  fine  filaments  of  personal 
loyalty  and  devotion.  Such  bonds  were  new  to 
women's  educational  experience.  The  sense  of 
Alma  Mater,  which  under  settled  conditions 
might  have  grown  more  tardily,  began  to  hap- 
pen at  once  as  by  a  kindly  magic.  Yet  there 
was  about  it  no  magic  other  than  that  of  a  won- 
derfully contagious  personality  acting  along 
lines  of  generous  partnership.  In  sharing  the 
opportunity  to  work  for  Mount  Holyoke,  Miss 
Lyon  communicated  something  of  her  own 
tenderness  to  the  attitude  of  these  first  students. 
Responsibility  discovered  to  them  that  they,  too, 
belonged ;  and  the  home  feeling,  so  normally  and 
yet  so  subtly  conveyed  at  the  outset,  became 
the  atmosphere  of  the  place.  "Our  family*' 
was  an  expression  often  on  Miss  Lyon's  lips. 
When  adversity  pinched  in  the  days  that  fol- 
lowed, she  gathered  her  girls  about  her.  "  This 
is  an  experiment,"  she  would  say,  "and  I  can- 
not succeed  without  your  help.  The  life  of  the 


MOUNT   HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    263 

institution  depends  upon  this  first  year."  After- 
wards she  used  to  speak  with  pride  of  those  ear- 
liest students.  Gallantly  they  responded  to  her 
appeals,  their  imaginations  rallying  at  the  trum- 
pet-note that  bugled  through  her  words.  For 
us  of  a  later  and  more  trammeled  generation 
a  charm  invests  that  spirited  company  of  pre- 
collegians,  setting  off  in  the  freshness  of  morn- 
ing upon  their  great  adventure.  They  were  in 
love  with  learning,  and  hardship  could  not  dull 
their  zest. 

To  understand  the  early  Mount  Holyoke, 
whose  launching  was  attended  with  so  much 
heroic  endeavor,  one  must  view  it  as  did  Miss 
Lyon,  and  as  she  gave  her  girls  in  some  measure 
also  to  see  it ;  a  bundle  of  tendencies,  the  initial 
expression  of  a  vast  potentiality,  the  beginning 
of  a  movement  world- wide  in  uplift.  Its  im- 
mediate mission  in  her  thought  was  to  go  ex- 
ploring, nosing  a  way  among  reefs  and  rocks 
until,  its  hull  kissing  the  waters  of  a  wider 
opportunity,  it  should  no  longer  be  allowed  to 
cruise  alone.  A  pattern  craft,  propelled  by  a 
new  power,  she  outfitted  it  for  what  in  her  mind 
was  to  be  an  endless  voyage.  "  Much  care  will 


264    THE  LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

be  taken,"  declares  the  prospectus,  "to  adopt 
and  settle  principles  which  may  be  permanent 
and  to  form  and  mature  a  system  of  operations 
which  may  essentially  outlive  those  to  whose 
care  it  is  at  first  committed." 

This  work  of  organization  presented  prob- 
lems as  difficult  of  conquest  and  as  far-reach- 
ing in  their  solution  as  the  financing  had  done. 
License  and  limitation  joined  hands  before  Miss 
Lyon:  its  pioneer  position  seemed  to  promise 
the  enterprise  a  free  field ;  contemporary  life  and 
thought  hedged  it  with  restriction.  She  solved 
her  puzzles  along  the  line  suggested  by  a  sen- 
tence or  two  thrown  out  to  her  students  in  an- 
other connection.  "Do  the  best  you  can  to- 
day." "I  have  seen  many  persons  waiting  to 
get  ready  to  do  something."  Miss  Lyon  "did 
something"  without  waiting;  and  while  study 
of  the  young  Mount  Holyoke  shows  that  it  bore 
everywhere  marks  of  environment  in  a  gen- 
eration less  progressive  than  she,  it  reveals  as 
unmistakably  a  modifying  effect  on  the  very 
conditions  that  restrained  it. 

A  single  practical  illustration  suggests  the 
extent  to  which  her  ideas  suffered  curtailment 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  265 

through  translation  into  fact.  Among  the  ear- 
lier papers  in  her  handwriting  is  a  plan  for  a 
building  to  provide  suites  of  rooms  throughout, 
two  bedrooms  and  a  study  being  allotted  to  two 
students.  These  suites  were  to  be  grouped  in 
six  divisions,  each  housing  a  "section"  with 
its  teacher,  and  giving  access  to  a  "section" 
parlor.  The  groups  would  unite  for  "  meetings 
and  family  devotion,  but  in  all  other  respects 
be  as  distinct  and  independent  as  six  separate 
and  distinct  families,  occupying  six  separate 
houses."  The  heads  of  these  groups  were  slated 
for  the  principal  teachers,  but  in  academic 
work  section  lines  would  be  disregarded.  A 
lover  of  analogy  will  find  here  curious  hints 
and  foreshadowings. 

There  existed  no  ladder  to  give  access  to 
the  new  seminary.  The  first  entrance  require- 
ments— English  grammar,  modern  geography, 
United  States  history,  Watts  on  the  Mind,  and 
arithmetic  —  were  plain  matters,  but  the  circu- 
lars which  Miss  Lyon  sent  to  applicants  two 
years  before  the  doors  opened,  urging  them  to 
use  the  extra  months  in  further  study,  form  an 
enlightening  commentary  on  current  educa- 


266     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

tional  practices.  Besides  telling  them  what  to 
study  for  preparation  she  found  it  necessary  to 
employ  some  specification  in  her  directions  as 
to  how  to  set  about  it  in  order  to  attain  habits 
of  clearness,  accuracy,  and  rapidity  of  thought. 
To  those  who  had  made  sure  of  their  entrance- 
work  advanced  study  was  recommended.  The 
greater  the  real  capital  on  admission,  she  said, 
the  greater  will  be  the  proportionate  income, 
but  "  a  superficial  passing  over  any  branch  be- 
fore commencing  it  regularly  in  school  is  always 
an  injury  instead  of  a  benefit."  She  superim- 
posed her  seminary  at  first  on  "  nothing  .  .  .  but 
that  thorough  course  which  should  be  pursued 
in  every  common  school.  But  many  who  have 
been  a  long  time  at  an  academy  cannot  be  re- 
ceived for  want  of  suitable  qualifications."  The 
people's  schools  held  a  place  close  to  her  repub- 
lican heart,  and  anything  which  should  lead 
them  to  give  thorough  attention  to  the  funda- 
mental branches  of  an  English  education  and 
enable  them  to  hold  girls  until  they  had  laid 
firmly  the  basis  for  higher  work,  would,  she  felt 
convinced,  raise  their  standard.  The  various 
parts  of  the  American  educational  machine 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  267 

called  for  nothing  more  imperatively  than  for 
definition ; "  Each  should  confine  itself  to  its  own 
appropriate  business."  And  while  she  never  at- 
tempted directly  to  untangle  the  feminine  snarl, 
or  to  elevate  the  public  school,  she  expected 
this  result  as  a  by-product  of  the  new  move- 
ment, her  theory  being  that  the  imposition  of 
an  institution  of  specific  character  and  rigid 
standard  would,  working  downward,  define 
the  status  of  lower  schools,  lead  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  direct  feeders  for  the  higher,  and 
necessarily  bring  system  out  of  the  existing 
confusion  of  studies. 

Two  common  faults  in  the  order  of  women's 
education  operated  with  its  manner  to  limit  the 
number  of  well-prepared  candidates :  an  incli- 
nation to  put  little  girls  to  hard  study  so  as,  in 
Miss  Lyon's  phrase,  "  to  finish  the  child's  edu- 
cation before  her  time  seems  of  much  value," 
and  to  defer  acquisitions  easily  made  in  child- 
hood and  which  come  later  only  with  waste  of 
time.  Let  her  speak  for  herself  here.  The  in- 
intellectual  forcing  of  children  is  "  like  a  man's 
borrowing  money  to  become  rich  on  such  terms 
that  in  a  few  years  the  principal  and  interest 


268     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

will  render  him  a  bankrupt."  Where  it  does  not 
result  in  "ruined  constitutions,  nervous  excita- 
bility, sadness  without  a  reason,  religious  de- 
pression, and  the  first  appearances  of  mono- 
mania ...  it  often  proves  forever  fatal  to 
high  intellectual  cultivation,  so  that  the  child, 
instead  of  becoming  a  prodigy,  as  was  expected, 
never  attains  even  to  mediocrity.  Such  repul- 
sive associations  may  be  formed  with  the  title- 
page  and  aspect  of  every  text-book  as  will  ren- 
der every  future  lesson  a  task  rather  than  a 
delight.  The  most  discouraging  field  which  any 
teacher  was  ever  called  to  cultivate  is  the  mind 
of  a  young  lady  who  has  been  studying  all  her 
days,  and  has  gone  over  most  of  the  natural  and 
moral  sciences  without  any  valuable  improve- 
ment, until  she  is  tired  of  school,  tired  of  books, 
and  tired  almost  of  life."  "Among  the  things 
neglected  till  too  late  a  period  are  the  manners ; 
the  cultivation  of  the  voice,  including  singing, 
pronunciation  and  all  the  characteristics  of  good 
reading ;  gaining  skill  and  expedition  in  the  com- 
mon necessary  mechanical  operations,  such  as 
sewing,  knitting,  writing  and  drawing ;  and  ac- 
quiring by  daily  practice  a  knowledge  and  love 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  269 

of  domestic  pursuits.  To  these  might  be  added 
some  things  which  depend  almost  entirely  on 
the  memory,  such  as  spelling ;  and  others  which 
are  suited  to  lay  the  foundation  of  a  literary 
taste,  such  as  a  judicious  course  of  reading, 
practice  in  composition,  etc.  Those  who  are 
to  attend  to  instrumental  music,  the  ornamen- 
tal branches,  and  the  pronunciation  of  foreign 
languages,  must  commence  early."  Against 
both  these  malpractices  the  new  enterprise 
threw  its  influence,  "as  this  institution  pro- 
poses to  conduct  young  ladies  through  a  regu- 
lar intellectual  course  after  the  age  of  sixteen." 
In  the  matter  of  instruction,  from  a  twentieth- 
century  point  of  view,  Miss  Lyon  found  herself 
facing  the  problem  that  confronts  a  man  who 
tries  to  lift  himself  by  his  boot-straps.  Mount 
Holyoke  in  action  might  pour  a  stream  of  well- 
equipped  minds  into  the  teaching  force  of  lower 
schools ;  where  was  the  spring  that  should  feed 
its  own  ?  It  would  not  have  been  consonant  with 
her  plans  to  admit  men  to  the  resident  faculty 
in  those  early  years.  Women  had  yet  to  prove 
themselves  as  students,  and  as  she  said  once  to 
her  girls,  "Either  gallantry  or  want  of  confi- 


270     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

dence  makes  gentlemen  let  young  ladies  slip 
along  without  knowing  much.  They  will  make 
boys  study."  Nor  at  this  critical  stage  in  femi- 
nine education  would  one  confident  hi  the  worth 
of  women's  brains,  and  eager  to  inspire  girls 
with  a  belief  hi  their  own  mental  abilities,  have 
chosen  so  to  undermine  their  faith,  even  had  the 
salaries  she  could  offer  admitted  of  men's  intro- 
duction. Aside  from  these  arguments  there  was 
one  more  definitive.  President  Garfield's  clas- 
sic definition  of  a  college  —  a  boy  at  one  end 
of  a  log  and  Mark  Hopkins  at  the  other  - 
cuts  cleanly  to  the  root  of  the  best  educational 
growth  of  the  time.  A  college  made  men  through 
personal  intercourse  with  men.  In  this  light 
Mary  Lyon  viewed  Mount  Holyoke,  as  a  plant 
for  the  development,  not  of  intellectual  gym- 
nasts, but  of  enlightened,  useful  women;  and 
with  this  aim  she  chose  her  teachers  from  the 
best  material  at  her  command.  They  were  not 
scholars  in  the  sense  of  persons  versed  in  origi- 
nal research.  The  American  university,  even 
for  men,  waited  on  the  threshold  of  another  gen- 
eration. 

In  the  midst  of  such  incertitude  as  this, 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  271 

Mount  Holyoke  took  its  departure  with  less  of 
compromise  to  the  state  of  turmoil  within  and 
without  than  circumstances  might  have  justi- 
fied. It  provided  a  regular  course  of  three  years, 
called  junior,  middle,  and  senior,  and  the  ma- 
jority of  its  first  students  remained  throughout 
the  year.  Afterwards  a  year's  residence  was 
required.  There  was  no  preparatory  depart- 
ment. Since  people  were  unwonted  to  notions 
of  a  requisite  age  and  any  rigidity  of  intellectual 
requirement,  some  slight  elasticity  prevailed 
along  these  lines  in  the  beginning,  which  the 
second  fall  found  unnecessary.  But  the  initial 
students  were  chosen  by  careful  sifting  of  over 
double  the  number  of  applications,  and  many 
were  young  women  whose  ages,  to  Miss  Lyon's 
delight,  ran  well  into  the  twenties;  some  of 
them  had  long  been  waiting  for  the  seminary  to 
open.  Accessions  from  Ipswich  and  Wheaton 
helped  provide  for  the  small  senior  class. 

She  gathered  her  nascent  college  out  of  its 
elements  with  the  sanity  which  practice  always 
lends  to  theory.  Routine  fell  into  the  lines 
worked  out  at  Ipswich,  with  its  "series,"  its 
"sections,"  and  its  quiet  half-hours  at  the  be- 


272     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

ginning  and  close  of  day.  In  subsequent  years 
we  find  several  "sections"  of  juniors  corre- 
sponding to  the  freshmen  of  to-day,  each  in 
personal  touch  with  one  of  the  younger  teach- 
ers. Regularity  of  habit,  she  declared,  promotes 
health  of  body,  as  surely  as  does  a  systematic 
course  of  study,  strength  of  mind.  Walking 
and  calisthenics  were  made  the  rule  in  an  age 
that  had  not  learned  to  rank  air  and  exercise 
among  commonplaces  of  training.  Together, 
faculty  and  undergraduates  constituted  a  com- 
munity designed  to  become  in  itself  a  social 
education. 

Among  the  moderns  there  is  no  clearer  re- 
cognition of  the  enlarging  function  that  col- 
lege friendships  play  hi  a  girl's  horizon  than  is 
to  be  found  in  Miss  Lyon's  words  about  the  re- 
sults commonly  incident  to  a  home  or  small' 
school  training.  A  girl  so  educated,  she  said, 
"is  in  danger  of  feeling  that  her  mother  and 
her  sisters  are  of  more  importance  in  the  scale 
of  being  than  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  that  her 
home  is  the  centre  of  the  universe  and  the  stand- 
ard by  which  everything  is  to  be  tried.  If  she 
belongs  to  a  plain  country  family,  she  looks  on 


the  wealthy  in  cities  and  large  villages  as  proud, 
extravagant,  and  haughty — if  she  has  been  con- 
fined to  the  city  or  large  village,  she  looks  on 
every  daughter  of  the  hills  and  valleys  as  out- 
landish and  vulgar."  An  antidote  to  this  illib- 
erality  is  to  be  found  in  a  large  seminary,  unit- 
ing such  "refinement  and  elevation"  with  such 
"plainness,  simplicity,  and  economy"  as  to 
draw  the  best  quality  of  student  "  from  all  parts 
of  the  country  and  from  all  classes  of  the  com- 
munity." Here  will  be  checked  "the  spirit  of 
monopolizing  privileges"  which  naturally  re- 
sults from  the  special  care  required  by  a  little 
girl.  "The  young  lady  needs  to  feel  herself  a 
member  of  a  large  community,  where  the  inter- 
ests of  others  are  to  be  sought  equally  with  her 
own.  She  needs  to  learn  by  practice  as  well  as 
by  principle  that  individual  accommodations 
and  private  interests  are  to  be  sacrificed  for  the 
public  good ;  and  she  needs  to  know  from  experi- 
ence that  those  who  make  such  a  sacrifice  will 
receive  an  ample  reward  in  the  improvement 
of  the  community  among  whom  they  are  to 
dw^ll."  —  "  We  must  always  consider  the  good 
of  the  whole"  became  a  proverb  among  her 


274     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

girls,  and  the  mainspring  of  Mount  Holyoke's 
life. 

Beyond  the  frankly  educative  she  enlisted 
those  unobtrusive  suggestions  that  reach  out 
so  powerfully  from  the  backgrounds  of  exis- 
tence. Even  in  the  first  experimental  years 
every  arrangement  was  made  to  yield  a  positive 
force,  teaching  silent  lessons  of  sincerity,  inde- 
pendence and  interdependence,  adaptability 
and  economy ;  and  let  it  be  always  remembered 
that  in  Miss  Lyon's  use,  economy  "  necessarily 
implies  good  judgment  and  good  taste."  "  The 
right  use  of  money  is  to  accomplish  what  you 
wish  with  it,"  she  said  in  one  of  her  afternoon 
talks.  "  A  poor  man  may  not  be  as  economical 
in  spending  fourpence  as  a  rich  man  in  spend- 
ing a  thousand  dollars."  Conservation  of  en- 
ergy, avoidance  of  waste,  convey  her  meaning 
to  ears  wonted  to  the  word's  more  petty  usages. 
"The  great  object  of  introducing  economy  into 
the  seminary's  affairs  is  to  make  the  school 
really  better,"  she  wrote.  Nowhere  were  there 
loose  threads ;  means  served  the  ends  to  which 
she  bent  them  with  a  completeness  that  deeply 
impressed  those  young  experiencing  natures. 


MOUNT   HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    275 

"I  never  knew  the  value  of  time  as  I  do  here," 
one  girl  wrote  a  friend. 

But,  conscious  as  was  her  intent  in  all  this, 
danger  lurks  in  speaking  of  her  methods  as 
though  they  were  in  some  way  separable  from 
her  singularly  direct  and  whole-souled  person- 
ality. The  principles  she  wrought  into  the 
framework  of  Mount  Holyoke  are  simply  the 
records  of  her  own  reactions  on  life. 

To  spectators  the  most  notable  of  these  un- 
academic  persuasions,  and  the  most  hazardous, 
was  undoubtedly  the  feature  of  cooperative 
housework.  Distorted  in  the  public  mind,  the 
project  weighted  her  mail  with  "  a  multitude  of 
serious  and  rather  apprehensive  inquiries  about 
the  domestic  work,  as  though  this  was  the 
main  thing,"  —  inquiries  which  she  fell  into 
the  habit  of  passing  over  lightly,  "  not  sympa- 
thizing much  with  warm  commendation  or  at- 
tempting to  vindicate."  "I  was  desirous  that 
our  warm  friends  who  thought  it  an  excellence 
should  look  upon  it  in  its  real  light,  as  a  small 
one;  and  strangers  who  might  fear  it  to  be  a 
defect  would  feel  it  to  be  one  easily  submitted 
to." 


276     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

But  in  those  laborious  days  from  which 
Mount  Holyoke  swung  away,  nothing  about 
the  plant  cost  her  more  incessant  thought  than 
did  the  manipulation  of  "the  little  appendage." 
It  proved  far  easier  to  secure  all  her  teachers 
than  to  fill  the  place  of  domestic  superintend- 
ent, yet  she  abated  no  jot  of  her  demand.  She 
wanted  "  a  lady  of  influence,  of  education,  of  an 
ability  to  plan  and  to  gain  power  over  others ; 
in  short,  one  who,  besides  all  her  knowledge 
and  skill  in  domestic  affairs,  would  lead  all  the 
young  ladies  to  look  up  to  her  with  respect." 
When  years  of  correspondence  and  interview- 
ing yielded  only  a  woman  who  broke  down  at 
the  outset,  she  did  the  work  herself,  writing  a 
fellow  educator,  "  Where  we  have  had  an  inter- 
est in  planning  we  can  sometimes  make  up  in 
zeal  what  we  lack  in  skill."  So  heavy  was  the 
burden  laid  upon  her  that  she  used  to  say  to  her 
girls,  "  Had  I  known  how  complicated  the  af- 
fairs of  our  domestic  system  would  be,  I  should 
never  have  undertaken  it,  but  it  brings  a  kind 
of  atmosphere  very  important  for  literary  pur- 
suits." 

What  she  meant  by  this  remark  appears  to- 


MOUNT   HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    277 

ward  the  end  of  a  letter  written  in  May,  1838,  to 
Reverend  Theron  Baldwin,  then  just  opening 
Monticello  Seminary.  "  For  many  weeks  I  was 
engaged  many  hours  every  day  about  the  do- 
mestic department,  sometimes  contriving  about 
the  fitting  of  furniture  and  cooking  utensils, 
again,  planning  for  the  division  of  labor  and 
for  time  and  place  so  that  everything  could  be 
done  in  season  and  in  order,  without  any  loss 
to  the  young  ladies  and  with  no  interference 
with  studies  or  recitations.  I  had  several  points 
to  gain,  and  sometimes  my  whole  energy  was 
devoted  to  one  and  sometimes  to  another.  One 
point  was  that  a  high  standard  should  be  es- 
tablished for  the  manner  of  having  the  work 
done ;  another,  that  every  department  of  the  do- 
mestic work  should  be  popular  with  the  young 
ladies.  For  three  or  four  months  I  never  left  the 
family  for  a  single  half-day.  I  then  said  to  the 
young  ladies  that  I  considered  the  family  as 
organized,  and  that  I  wished  to  go  to  Boston  to 
be  absent  two.  or  three  weeks,  that  I  might, 
besides  finding  a  little  rest,  know  whether  the 
wheels  which  I  had  been  occupied  so  long  in 
arranging  could  move  without  my  aid.  On  my 


return  everything  was  in  perfect  order,  and 
there  has  not  been  a  time  since  when  I  could 
not  be  absent  or  sick  three  months  without  any 
sensible  loss  to  the  domestic  department.  Now 
I  need  not  go  into  the  kitchen  once  a  month 
unless  I  prefer,  though  I  do  love  daily  to  pass 
around  from  room  to  room  in  the  basement 
story,  and  see  how  delightfully  the  wheels  move 
forward.  .  .  . 

"Our  circumstances  are  so  very  favorable 
that  I  feel  that  the  plan  is  scarcely  tested  for 
others.  In  the  first  place,  we  have  none  under 
sixteen,  and  nearly  all  are  from  firm,  well-bred 
families  of  New  England.  They  have  been  gen- 
erally well  educated  thus  far,  and  well  trained 
in  domestic  pursuits.  Again  we  have  no  do- 
mestics. If  anything  is  not  quite  so  pleasant  the 
query  never  arises  whether  it  is  not  more  suit- 
able that  domestics  should  do  it.  ...  We  have 
a  hired  man  who  boards  himself.  He  takes  care 
of  our  garden,  saws  wood,  and  performs  various 
little  offices  for  our  comfort.  The  family  is  so 
large  that  by  a  proper  division  of  time  all  can  be 
done  and  each  occupied  but  a  short  time.  No 
young  lady  feels  she  is  performing  a  duty  from 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    279 

which  she  could  be  relieved  by  the  payment  of 
higher  bills." 

In  the  "union  of  interests  "  that  the  arrange- 
ment secures,  in  its  promotion  of  "  social  viva- 
city," easy  acquaintance,  and  the  home  feeling, 
Miss  Lyon  sees  definite  advantages.  Exercise 
she  ranks  first.  "  This  is  worth  very  much  more 
than  I  anticipated,  especially  in  the  winter. 
The  daily  work  brings  an  hour  of  regular  ex- 
ercise, coming  every  day  and  the  same  hour  of 
the  day.  .  .  .  The  oldest  and  most  studious 
scholars  are  those  who  have  always  troubled 
me  by  neglecting  exercise.  But  they  walk  more 
here  of  their  own  accord,  without  influence, 
than  any  young  ladies  of  the  same  character  I 
have  ever  seen.  .  .  .  Our  young  ladies  study 
with  great  intensity,  but  they  seem  just  as  vig- 
orous the  last  of  the  term  as  ever.  The  vivacity 
and  apparent  vigor  of  our  young  ladies  near  the 
close  of  our  winter  term  of  twenty  weeks,  and 
at  the  examination,  was  noticed  as  unusual  by 
gentlemen  of  discrimination.  Whatever  they 
do  they  seem  to  do  with  their  might,  whether 
it  be  study  or  walking  or  domestic  work  or 
gathering  plants  or  singing." 


That  from  the  big,  airy  "domestic  hall"  of 
those  early  days,  fitted  with  every  device  pro- 
curable to  lighten  labor,  emanated  the  influ- 
ences which  Miss  Lyon  publicly  bespoke  for  it, 
we  have  abundant  proof  in  the  testimony  of  her 
students.  "  It  was  a  daily  object  lesson  in  sys- 
tem and  order,  a  beautiful  example  of  success- 
ful cooperative  housekeeping,"  one  wrote  years 
later.  Teams,  each  captained  by  an  older  stu- 
dent and  nominated  "  circles"  and  "  circle-lead- 
ers," deftly  and  withal  merrily  despatched  cook- 
ery, table- setting,  dish-washing,  and  the  like, 
a  girl  being  "  assigned  to  that  in  which  she  has 
been  well  trained  at  home."  The  few  who  had 
hitherto  escaped  such  pastimes  attacked  new 
occupations  with  timidity  or  zest,  according  to 
their  temper.  Now  and  then,  of  course,  came 
one  whom  housework  galled ;  but  in  the  main 
they  were  happy  young  persons,  the  more  cheer- 
fully, because  unconsciously,  learning  lessons 
of  adaptability,  resource,  and  relativity  that 
would  stand  them  in  good  stead  in  after  life. 
Without  fanciful  conceit  one  must  allow  to  the 
"domestic  work"  of  these  early  days  a  place 
not  unlike  that  which  athletics  and  student 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  281 

government  hold  in  twentieth-century  college 
life.  It  developed  team  work  and  the  gift  of 
leadership,  as  truly  as  it  bred  the  community 
sense  that  makes  for  citizenship. 

Seen  in  perspective,  this  phase  of  the  Mount 
Holyoke  enterprise  falls  into  relation  with  other 
movements  of  the  time,  a  triumphant  flowering 
of  the  same  New  England  spirit  that  blossomed 
episodically  at  Brook  Farm  and  Fruitlands. 
Both  seminary  and  colonies  voiced  a  protest 
against  the  notion  that  there  is  any  incom- 
patibility in  a  person's  working  with  hands 
and  with  head.  —  "  Labor  may  dwell  with 
thought,"  cried  Emerson — a  declaration  of  the 
essential  unity  of  man.  Between  lay  all  the  dif- 
ference that  divides  success  from  failure.  The 
lettered  men  and  women  who  wiped  dishes  and 
milked  cows  at  Brook  Farm  lived  in  too  frankly 
experimental  a  fashion,  and  living  is  not  an  ac- 
tivity that  results  normally  under  glass.  Mary 
Lyon  used  her  cooperative  venture  as  a  means 
to  something  quite  different ;  circumstance  had 
pushed  her  to  close  quarters,  and  she,  as  was 
her  wont,  had  but  devised  a  plan  to  get  her  way. 
How  completely  and  perfectly  it  worked  is  best 


indicated  by  a  story  related  of  one  of  the  mul- 
titude of  doubters.  A  wealthy  Boston  judge, 
who  on  account  of  this  feature  of  its  life  had 
long  hesitated  to  send  his  only  child  to  Mount 
Holyoke,  went  over  the  whole  plant  on  the  oc- 
casion of  his  first  visit  after  her  entrance.  Later 
he  confessed  to  Miss  Lyon :  "  My  only  objection 
now  is,  that  the  domestic  work  is  made  so  easy, 
your  pupils  will  be  spoiled  for  home  experi- 
ence." 

So  the  year  drew  on  through  the  disabili- 
ties, obstacles,  and  overwork  incident  to  ini- 
tial ventures  which  must  prove  to  a  somewhat 
skeptical  public  their  right  to  life.  It  is  pleasant 
to  read  Miss  Lyon's  estimate  of  the  result,  her- 
self her  most  discerning  critic :  "  On  the  whole 
the  success  of  our  institution  in  every  depart- 
ment is  greater  than  I  anticipated.  I  am  more 
and  more  interested  in  this  enterprise  as  a 
means  of  developing  some  important  principles 
of  female  education,  especially  of  the  impor- 
tance and  practicability  of  introducing  system." 

A  Thursday  in  August  brought  the  first  com- 
mencement, simply  called  "  anniversary  day," 
and  the  earliest  of  the  superabundant  com- 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  283 

mencement  crowds.  The  programme,  for  all 
its  quaint  entries,  summons  to  view  a  time  that 
has  left  indelible  marks  upon  our  own.  Pub- 
lic examinations,  Monday  and  Tuesday,  held 
with  no  preparatory  drilling,  as  The  Hamp- 
shire Gazette  informs  us  a  few  years  later,  and 
conveying  the  "effect  of  pleasing  lectures  in 
the  free  interchange  of  questions  and  answers, 
instead  of  the  tiresome  repetitions  of  an  ordi- 
nary school-room  examination."  Wednesday, 
a  liberal  exodus  over  "  the  Notch  "  to  Amherst's 
commencement.  Thursday  morning,  the  last 
examinations  and  the  reading  of  compositions, 
interspersed  with  music,  in  a  crowded  "semi- 
nary hall."  And  there  Miss  Lyon  would  have 
had  the  graduating  exercises,  but  she  yielded 
to  the  representations  of  the  trustees  to  her 
entire  later  satisfaction. 

Near  noon  the  procession  started  up  the  vil- 
lage street:  stalwart  trustees,  men  of  learning 
and  of  affairs ;  that  small  earliest  faculty,  with 
the  adjectives  "brilliant,"  "graceful,"  "charm- 
ing," "vivacious  "  sounding  pleasantly  along 
the  way;  white-gowned  students,  bare-headed 
under  light  parasols  —  all  turning  their  steps 


284     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

to  the  waiting  church,  where  the  address  would 
be  given  by  a  speaker  from  abroad,  and  the 
graduates  receive  their  simple  English  inscribed 
parchments.  But  though  this  first  orator  had 
shunned  food  and  sleep  to  rewrite  his  speech, 
having  discovered  after  listening  for  a  while  to 
the  examinations  that  "it  would  never  do  to 
present  anything  he  had  brought  with  him," 
his  address  was  to  draw  from  Miss  Lyon  the 
comment  to  Miss  Grant,  "  good,  but  not  quite 
as  finished  as  I  should  have  liked."  Later,  at 
the  seminary,  Mount  Holyoke  and  its  guests 
would  sit  down  to  the  anniversary  dinner. 

As  in  fancy  one  watches  that  procession  a 
sentence  of  Miss  Lyon's  springs  to  mind. 
"  Sorrow  is  sometimes  remembered  joy."  Years 
that  were  gone,  summers  and  winters  of  rebuff 
and  struggle,  pressed  into  her  cup  on  this  first 
commencement  a  poignant  sweetness.  It  spar- 
kled in  her  eyes  and  kindled  in  her  mobile 
face.  One  who  went  often  to  the  "  anniversa- 
ries" said  that  Miss  Lyon  never  appeared  so 
well  as  on  such  days.  "Kindness,  gentleness, 
ease  and  dignity  of  manner  were  always  very 
marked.  She  was  never  disconcerted,  never  in 


a  hurry,  and  always  seemed  to  have  time  to 
see  every  one  and  to  well  meet  all  that  was  laid 
upon  her.  There  was  at  such  times  scope  for 
all  her  powers." 

As  the  new  enterprise  proved  itself,  she  who 
was  its  founder  became  also  its  builder.  For 
all  its  disabilities  at  birth,  Mount  Holyoke 
never  required  that  tentative  period  of  adoption 
which  is  to  be  found  in  the  history  of  many  edu- 
cational organisms.  It  came  into  being  as  the 
people's  own,  grounded  in  wide  affections ;  and 
though  it  ever  won  new  friends,  from  the  first 
it  began  to  grow.  One  cannot  fancy  Mary  Lyon 
establishing  anything  to  stand  still ;  she  was 
not  a  stationary  person.  The  continual  turn- 
ing away  of  applicants  for  lack  of  room — four 
hundred  were  refused  the  second  year  —  joined 
with  ocular  proof  of  the  practicability  of  the 
experiment.  "The  institution  must  live,"  Miss 
Lyon  wrote  the  public  in  the  spring  of  1839; 
"but  whether  its  influence  shall  be  extended 
and  its  principles  disseminated,  is  yet  to  be 
determined.  Much  depends  upon  the  prompt- 
ness with  which  the  present  wants  of  the  insti- 
tution are  met."  Now  at  her  appeal  purse- 


strings  loosened  somewhat  more  easily.  The 
completion  of  the  main  building  and  the  ad- 
dition of  a  wing  at  the  southern  end  raised  the 
housing  capacity  from  eighty  at  opening  until 
in  point  of  numbers  Mount  Holyoke  held  its 
own  with  the  largest  New  England  colleges. 
And  still  there  was  not  room  enough.  Girls 
unable  to  get  in  one  year  applied  for  the  next, 
or  waited  two  or  three  and  tried  again.  A 
second  wing  to  the  north,  designed  by  Miss 
Lyon,  was  not  built  until  after  her  death. 
Meanwhile  apparatus,  library,  and  collections 
increased  slowly  through  outside  gifts  and  by 
expenditure  of  seminary  funds. 

In  passing  out  of  the  first  hand-to-mouth 
stage  and  expanding  into  the  proportions  origi- 
nally planned  for  its  initial  appearance,  Mount 
Holyoke,  like  all  new  communities,  developed 
law.  There  were  no  regulations  the  first  year 
beyond  the  rule  of  love ;  but  as  life  gained  cer- 
tainty and  numbers  increased,  this  pressed  for 
more  particular  definition.  Miss  Lyon  met  the 
need  as  she  had  met  it  at  Ipswich,  seeking  to 
lead  girls  into  wider  social  recognitions,  reach- 
ing forward  to  an  ideal  in  which  reciprocity  of 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  287 

advice  and  deference  should  be  the  only  gov- 
ernment. There  were  no  arbitrary  commands ; 
new  rules  often  came  by  student  request,  and 
never  without  cause.  If  one  were  to  be  given, 
she  would  preface  its  enunciation  with  the  re- 
mark that  a  person  must  pay  the  penalty  of  life 
in  a  community  by  giving  up  some  of  the  privi- 
leges which  might  be  enjoyed  if  she  lived  alone. 
After  an  explanation  of  its  working,  her  girls 
could  be  counted  on  to  adopt  the  measure.  Com- 
mon sense  and  conscientiousness  must  guide 
them  in  reporting  deviations,  she  said ;  if  they 
possessed  these,  they  needed  no  explanation ;  if 
they  had  them  not,  no  explanation  would  do 
them  any  good.  An  attempt  to  picture  in  detail 
and  for  a  different  age  this  system  of  self- report- 
ing could  only  succeed  in  showing  how  time 
makes  ancient  good  uncouth.  The  regulations 
looked  toward  the  preservation  of  good  breed- 
ing and  scholarly  attitudes.  While  some  stu- 
dents found  them  irksome,  more  than  one  old 
lady  has  told  me,  "  I  never  paid  much  attention 
to  the  rules — they  were  only  what  seemed  just 
and  right,  what  one  would  naturally  do." 
Beneath  all  her  practices  ran  this  warm  co- 


288     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

operative  current.  When  the  plans  of  a  land- 
scape artist  for  beautifying  the  grounds  proved 
too  costly  to  be  carried  out,  she  asked  the  girls 
going  home  in  the  second  spring  vacation  to 
bring  back  flower-seeds  and  shrubbery;  she 
would  have  the  ground  enriched  and"  the  yard 
fenced.  They  returned,  their  trunks  full  of 
roots  and  seeds  that  blossomed  gayly  in  the 
summer  months.  She  made  the  seniors  feel 
that  it  was  their  privilege  to  help  her  keep 
order  in  the  house,  gently  hinting  at  ways  in 
which  they  might  aid ;  from  all  classes  she  asked 
suggestions  which  should  serve  to  make  her 
afternoon  talks  helpful  and  timely,  fitting 
closely  student  needs ;  she  impressed  on  them 
the  invigorating  understanding  that  they  bore 
a  part  in  making  Mount  Holyoke  a  success 
—  let  them  remember  in  whatever  they  did 
to  seek  its  good.  "You  have  all  embarked 
in  this  ship,"  she  said,  "and  if  the  ship  sinks 
must  sink  with  it." 

With  physical  enlargement  came  more  ease 
of  life.  The  comfort  of  her  girls  was  a  matter 
not  beyond  Miss  Lyon's  thought.  "  There  is  a 
best  way  to  do  every  thing,"  she  used  to  say; 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  289 

and  unwearyingly  she  sought  it,  testing,  chang- 
ing, simplifying.  It  took  eleven  years  and  re- 
modeling of  the  kitchen  regions  to  bring  the 
domestic  system  to  a  point  where  she  is  re- 
ported to  have  confessed  herself  nearly  satis- 
fied with  it.  This  indefatigability  sometimes 
wore  on  less  active  spirits.  She  was  always  ex- 
perimenting, said  Mr.  Hawks,  president  of  the 
trustees ;  adding  by  way  of  illustration  that  he 
used  to  tiptoe  past  the  door  of  her  parlor  lest, 
hearing  his  step,  she  call  him  in  and  propose 
something  new. 

To  the  retrospective  eye  in  no  department 
does  her  alertness  appear  more  forcibly  than  in 
the  purely  academic.  The  young  Mount  Hoi- 
yoke  was  a  laboratory  wherein  a  tireless  chem- 
ist sought  to  demonstrate  a  new  principle  in 
women's  education:  a  "thorough,  systematic, 
and  uninterrupted  course  of  study."  "Its  de- 
sign is  to  promote  the  best  interests  of  the  pub- 
lic, rather  than  to  secure  the  greatest  amount 
of  patronage.  Efforts  are  made  to  furnish  the 
best  possible  school,  and  not  to  secure  the 
greatest  number  of  scholars.  It  has  adopted  a 
regular  system  to  which  it  strictly  adheres.  It 


290    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

is  open  for  the  reception  of  all  who  can  meet 
its  requisitions."  Many  people  had  thought 
that  on  these  terms  learning  would  not  prove 
attractive  to  girls.  "The  result  shows,"  wrote 
Miss  Lyon,  "  that  it  is  still  safer  to  seek  wisdom 
rather  than  riches." 

Her  method  of  founding  accounts  largely  for 
the  closeness  with  which  she  was  able  to  ap- 
proximate her  own  standards.  Instead  of  offer- 
ing people  an  institution  ready  made,  she  had 
enlisted  their  help  to  make  one.  The  venture, 
so  inaugurated,  was  also  fortunate  in  the  kind 
of  students  which  it  drew.  Many  of  them  were 
young  persons  of  well-defined  intellectual  back- 
grounds. "  There  is  a  great  amount  of  educated 
parentage  here,"  remarked  Miss  Lyon,  "chil- 
dren of  professional  men,  ministers,  etc.  —  not 
so  much  wealth."  Her  emphasis,  strong  at  first 
on  the  full  measure  of  preliminary  acquire- 
ment, stiffened,  and  by  1840  she  was  able  to 
write  all  candidates:  "As  the  plans  and  prin- 
ciples of  the  institution  are  now  so  well  un- 
derstood, probably  any  indulgence  hereafter 
relative  to  preparation  will  be  unnecessary  and 
inexpedient." 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  291 

Students  who  failed  in  entrance  examinations 
went  home  or  sought  opportunity  elsewhere  to 
make  up  their  work.  We  learn  of  a  small  school 
opened  by  one  of  the  first  Holyoke  graduates, 
to  which  Miss  Lyon  used  to  send  girls  deficient 
in  preparation,  going  herself  now  and  then  to 
investigate  their  progress.  The  seminary '  s  sud- 
den leap  into  popularity  had  tended  to  bring 
down  the  average  undergraduate  age,  and  after 
a  few  years  she  returned  to  the  first  method  of 
accepting  candidates,  not  in  order  of  applica- 
tion, but  by  careful  sifting  so  as  to  get  the  best. 

The  circular  prepared  to  give  notice  of  the 
change  remarks:  "Some  parents  wish  to  send 
their  daughters  here  because  the  expenses  are 
less  than  at  other  institutions.  But  this  is  no 
valid  argument  for  their  being  received.  Many 
whose  money  has  been  expended  in  the  build- 
ing up  of  this  institution  have  less  pecuniary 
ability  than  the  parents  of  our  scholars.  But 
they  had  a  higher  object  in  view  than  pecuniary 
relief."  In  kindly  fashion  she  often  advised 
students  to  stay  out  a  year  that  they  might 
not  bring  to  their  studies,  especially  to  the  se- 
nior philosophical  work,  too  great  immaturity. 


292     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

"Knowledge  and  reflection,"  she  thought, 
should  "balance."  "There  is  a  defect  in  educa- 
tion," says  a  student  note-book.  "Knowledge 
of  books  increases  faster  than  knowledge  of 
character.  ...  I  don't  know  how  this  defect 
is  to  be  remedied  unless  by  invisible  pictures. 
There  is  no  such  thing  as  teaching  the  power  of 
reflection.  We  can  make  [students]  commit  to 
memory,  but  all  we  can  do  in  this  matter  is  to 
stand  about  the  outer  court  and  say,  Won't  you 
reflect?" 

Just  as  distinctly  she  tried  to  make  it  under- 
stood that  Mount  Holyoke  was  designed  only 
for  the  strong  of  body  and  mind,  those  old 
enough  to  think  and  act  wisely  for  themselves 
and  others.  There  were  girls  whom  such  a  life 
might  blight,  and  she  counseled  parents  to  look 
thoughtfully  into  this. 

The  curriculum,  plain  and  substantial,  fol- 
lowed the  lines  of  an  educational  taste  already 
beginning  to  break  away  from  a  diet  of  the  hu- 
manities. Mathematics,  English,  science,  and 
philosophy,  with  a  pinch  of  political  economy 
and  history,  made  up  the  diploma  course  in  the 
beginning ;  but  the  initial  catalogue  lays  down 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  293 

a  programme  of  growth.  More  will  be  added  to 
the  senior  branches,  and  certain  senior  studies 
are  to  find  place  in  earlier  years.  From  the  first 
Miss  Lyon  encouraged  students  to  go  outside 
the  prescribed  bounds ;  work  was  always  done 
that  did  not  for  years  creep  into  print.  "  The 
study  of  the  languages  has  ever  been  designed 
to  be  embraced  in  the  regular  course,"  says  an- 
other catalogue,  referring  to  the  restraint  im- 
posed by  current  notions  of  women's  education. 
So  Latin  was  taught  the  first  year;  in  1840  all 
candidates  for  reception  a  year  from  that  fall 
were  advised  to  spend  as  much  of  the  interven- 
ing time  as  possible  in  its  study ;  by  1847  it  held 
a  place  in  the  regular  course  and  was  required 
for  admission. 

I  find  these  jottings  among  the  notes :  "  Her 
opinion  upon  education  she  gave  us  to-day  — 
thorough  discipline  of  the  mind  gained  by  Latin 
and  mathematics,  as  in  the  training  of  young 
men,  before  the  higher  English  branches.  Have 
the  roots  grow  and  expand  before  we  expect  to 
gather  fruit."  "Miss  Lyon  .  .  .  dwelt  at  length 
on  the  discipline  of  mind  she  wished  us  to  ac- 
quire, and  that  she  expected  us  to  know  by  ex- 


294     THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

perience  what  hard  study  is.  It  was  her  desire 
that  we  should  all  have  one  difficult  and  one 
easier  study:  the  first,  mathematics  or  Latin, 
and  probably  confine  ourselves  to  it  the  whole 
year.  She  required  a  note  expressing  our 
choice." 

A  dash  of  modern  languages  and  music 
spiced  the  whole,  though  they  did  not  count 
toward  graduation.  There  were  no  "extras." 
We  find  some  mention  of  equivalents,  and  oc- 
casionally a  very  slender  chance  for  choice  in 
the  diploma  course.  Outside  its  bounds  the 
opportunity  was  wider ;  a  young  woman  with 
barely  enough  time  at  her  disposal  to  graduate, 
would,  Miss  Lyon  believed,  often  gain  from  a 
broader  range  of  studies  more  than  she  would 
lose  in  missing  a  diploma ;  and  she  encouraged 
students  to  spend  double  time  in  the  middle 
class.  But  the  public  mind  accustomed  itself 
slowly  to  the  notion  of  several  consecutive  years 
of  study  for  girls,  and  the  early  class  rosters  are 
full  of  non-graduates. 

At  the  close  of  the  thirties,  and  again  near 
the  middle  of  the  forties,  she  tried  to  lengthen 
the  regular  course  to  four  years,  —  a  change 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  295 

which  the  catalogues  had  for  some  time  been 
gently  heralding.  But  here  even  Miss  Lyon 
met  defeat.  Student  notes  yield  a  mangled  echo 
of  the  explanation  that  she  gave  her  girls.  "  The 
only  reason  why  we  do  not  put  four  years  in,  is 
the  narrowness  of  means  and  views  of  those 
who  would  feel  it  too  much.  Young  men  are 
required  to  prepare  much  longer,  but  young 
ladies  are  admitted  without  excuse.  The  trus- 
tees object  to  adding  another  year.  We  design 
to  make  the  three  years'  course  more  rigid.  We 
would  take  a  leap,  but  cannot,  and  expect  to  ad- 
vance gradually." 

Again  we  turn  to  the  notes  for  interpretation 
of  her  phrase  "to  advance  gradually."  "I  have 
much  faith  in  learning  in  imparting  solidity  to 
character.  .  .  .  When  young  ladies  are  thor- 
oughly educated,  as  men  are,  frivolity  will  be 
banished  from  their  minds.  Men  will  not  turn 
and  talk  with  them  as  they  never  talk  among 
themselves.  We  make  the  rules  for  admission 
to  the  classes  very  rigid  in  order  to  raise  the 
standard  of  education  and  hope  in  fifty  years 
from  this  the  influence  will  be  felt  far  and  wide. ' ' 
"  We  do  not  require  much  of  the  senior  class. 


296    THE  LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

We  shall  look  on  the  studies  required,  fifty  years 
hence,  as  we  do  on  the  studies  of  Cambridge  in 
the  first  year." 

Glowingly  she  talked  those  afternoons  in  hall, 
the  seer's  eye  glancing  down  the  years  while  she 
pictured,  as  one  who  listened  has  recorded,  the 
Mount  Holyoke  "of  the  future,  its  course  of 
study  extended  in  all  departments,  with  all  the 
aids  and  appliances  for  illustration  that  could 
be  furnished."  Greek,  Hebrew,  more  music; 
she  denied  no  learning  that  might  inform  or 
discipline  the  mind.  "She  often  said  she 
thought  the  time  would  come  when  Bible-class 
teachers  would  feel  that  they  must  study  the 
scriptures  in  the  original  languages  in  which 
they  were  written."  Together  they  stood  at  a 
beginning,  she  told  her  hearers,  small  as  had 
been  the  beginning  of  Yale,  but  mighty  in  its 
potentiality.  Girls'  hearts  burned  under  her 
words.  So  by  her  speech  she  emphasized  her 
acts,  planting  at  the  heart  of  her  undertaking 
the  principle  of  progression.  And  because  the 
garment  of  her  work  was  change,  it  won  sta- 
bility. 

Against  the  coming  day  she  raised  a  standard 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  297 

of  scholarship  famous  for  thoroughness,  sincer- 
.  ity,  and  disinterestedness.  Her  girls  breathed 
an  intellectual  atmosphere  remarkably  free 
from  contaminating  particles.  As  at  Ipswich, 
there  were  no  prizes ;  even  when  compositions 
were  publicly  read,  none  read  her  own.  In 
the  joy  of  mental  activity  they  found  their  re- 
ward, as  she  had  found  hers.  Three  classes 
of  women,  she  told  them,  ought  to  consider 
well  the  thought  of  striving  for  a  higher  edu- 
cation: the  few  who  had  studied  enough  to 
love  study,  such  as  had  the  rudiments  of  this 
love  in  them  but  had  been  denied  its  develop- 
ment, and  those  who  could  learn  if  they  tried 
long  and  hard.  "  But  ladies  are  turned  aside  by 
a  thousand  things  which  never  interrupt  gen- 
tlemen, and  if  they  would  build  high  they  must 
not  be  satisfied  with  laying  the  foundation." 
Present  achievement  she  focused  against  the 
background  of  a  future,  and  her  students  car- 
ried away  a  sense  of  the  greatness  of  what  they 
did  not  know,  so  stimulating  to  the  appetite  as 
to  have  made  some  of  them  eager  scholars  long 
after  their  three-score  years  and  ten. 

Lecturers  from  Amherst  and  Williams  sup- 


298     THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

plemented  the  work  of  the  regular  classes,  and 
one  year  we  hear  of  a  Frenchman  coming  over 
from  Northampton  several  times  a  week.  For 
the  others,  a  name  or  two  must  suffice.  "Pro- 
fessor Snell  has  consented  to  render  us  a  lit- 
tle aid  about  our  philosophical  department,"  * 
writes  Miss  Lyon  to  a  niece,  ten  years  after 
Mount  Holyoke  opened.  "He  has  been  twice 
to  look  over  the  apparatus.  He  is  to  meet  me  in 
Boston  this  week  .  .  .  and  we  hope  to  make 
considerable  additions.  When  that  is  done  we 
hope  he  will  come  over  once  or  twice  a  week 
and  give  experiments."  In  the  third  year  of  the 
seminary  he  delivered  a  course  of  lectures  on 
architecture  previously  given  at  Amherst.  Here 
came  Professor  Hitchcock,  lecturing  with  a 
manikin  on  physiology,  and  bringing  to  the 
geology  classes  stimulating  contact  with  the 
mind  of  an  original  searcher  after  truth.  One 
should  guard  against  reading  back  into  this 
science-study  modern  scope  and  method.  Yet, 
elementary  as  much  of  the  work  must  have 
been,  it  marked  an  abrupt  divergence  from  the 
point  of  view  represented  by  the  head  of  a  girls' 

1  "Natural  philosophy." 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  299 

school  in  Virginia,  a  woman  esteemed  for  her 
"rank  and  intelligence,"  who  at  the  end  of  the 
thirties  commented  on  physiology  as  "  a  useless 
study  which  young  ladies  cannot  understand." 

The  teachers,  four  at  first,  with  three  assist- 
ant pupils,  increased  with  the  number  of  stu- 
dents, averaging  about  one  to  sixteen.  No  evi- 
dence shows  any  attempt  at  organization  of 
the  faculty.  In  practice,  department  lines  were 
sometimes  broken  over  in  men's  colleges.  Miss 
Ly  on  chose  women  "whose  spirit  would  be  con- 
genial to  the  genius  of  the  seminary,"  and  so 
welded  them  to  solidarity  that  President  Hitch- 
cock declared  she  always  seemed  surrounded 
by  "just  the  right  sort  of  persons."  They  were 
eager  to  do  good  work,  and  among  them  were 
women  of  strong  mentality.  That  all  proved 
equally  illuminating  instructors  is  hardly  sup- 
posable,  and  a  few  were  over  young.  Now  and 
then  a  note  of  adverse  criticism  sounds  in  the 
paean  of  praise  that  has  come  down  to  us.  The 
tradition  of  text-book  supremacy  bound  some 
of  them.  It  remains  true  that  they  were  picked 
women ;  weaklings  do  not  test  new  ways. 

Though  Miss  Lyon  herself,  after  the  first 


300    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

years,  gave  practically  all  teaching  into  other 
hands,  now  and  then  later  students  passed 
through  the  door  of  a  class-room  into  her  invig- 
orating presence.  "I  used  to  think  of  her  as 
having  been  in  the  past  a  good  teacher,"  said 
one  of  them  recently,  "  but  when  she  took  the 
class  in  Butler's  'Analogy'  for  a  little  while,  I 
saw  of  what  stuff  she  was.  She  loved  logic,  the 
order  of  arguments,  and  her  class  felt  the  full 
force  of  her  intellect."  It  is  in  connection  with 
a  public  examination  that  Mr.  Hitchcock  re- 
lates a  bit  of  conversation  between  two  college 
presidents  in  the  audience.  When  Miss  Lyon 
had  finished  with  her  class  in  "Analogy,"  one 
president  turned  to  the  other :  "  How  is  it  that 
these  young  ladies  recite  in  Butler  so  much  bet- 
ter than  our  senior  classes  ?"  "I  do  not  know," 
was  the  answer,  "  unless  it  be  that  they  have  a 
better  teacher." 

The  impulse  of  her  unquenchable  curiosity 
could  not  fail  in  less  direct  ways  to  leave  its 
impress  on  the  intellectual  temper  of  Mount 
Holyoke.  The  keen  edge  of  her  appetite  never 
dulled.  One  of  the  last  summer  vacations  of 
her  life  found  her  joining  President  Hitchcock, 


then  state  geologist,  in  a  field  excursion  into 
Vermont.  They  pushed  as  far  north  as  Bur- 
lington, —  young  Edward  Hitchcock  driving 
Miss  Lyon  and  one  of  her  associates.  "  A  few 
years  since,"  writes  Professor  Charles  Hitch- 
cock of  Dartmouth,  "  I  stopped  for  dinner  at 
a  house  in  North  Chittenden,  and  was  told  that 
my  father  and  Miss  Lyon  had  once  done  the 
same  thing  some  forty  years  earlier.  It  was 
evidently  a  red-letter  day  for  that  family." 

Out  of  all  these  varied  activities  she  evoked  a 
"Holyoke  spirit"  in  which  alertness,  democ- 
racy, sincerity,  and  an  unobtrusive  helpfulness 
came  to  be  a  widely  recognized  blend.  Her 
girls,  like  herself,  did  not  live  for  applause,  and 
people  learned  to  count  on  them  to  succor  needy 
good  with  quiet,  effective  deeds.  In  conquering 
distrust  of  the  new  education,  the  "Holyoke 
spirit"  played  no  minor  role ;  by  the  output  of  a 
plant  men  judge  it.  "Such  a  young  lady  from 
the  city  was  a  mere  cipher  in  her  father's  fam- 
ily before  attending  the  Mount  Holyoke  Semi- 
nary," remarked  an  influential  Boston  woman. 
"Now  her  aid,  kindness,  solace,  and  counsel 
are  invaluable." 


302    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Requests  for  teachers  came  from  all  over  the 
country  to  supply  all  grades  of  schools.  Men 
wrote  from  Alabama  for  the  plan  of  the  build- 
ing, and  from  Illinois  and  Wisconsin  to  inquire 
into  the  theory  and  practice  of  Mount  Holyoke 
as  a  guide  in  founding  Rockford  Seminary 
conjointly  with  Beloit  College.  Women  who 
never  came  into  Miss  Lyon's  presence  knew 
all  about  her,  and  under  their  knowledge  life 
quickened  into  new  meanings.  Lucy  Larcom 
wrote  of  that  rare  colony  of  young  women, 
teachers  in  summer,  tenders  of  looms  in  winter, 
poets  and  novelists,  earning  by  hand  and  brain 
the  money  to  send  brothers  to  college  or  to  gain 
more  education  for  themselves ;  "  Mount  Hol- 
yoke Seminary  broke  upon  the  thoughts  of  many 
of  them  as  a  vision  of  hope  .  .  .  and  Mary 
Lyon's  name  was  honored  nowhere  more  than 
among  the  Lowell  mill-girls." 

From  Amherst  Emily  Dickinson  jubilantly 
informed  a  friend :  "I  am  fitting  to  go  to  South 
Hadley  seminary,  and  expect,  if  my  health  is 
good,  to  enter  that  institution  a  year  from  next 
fall.  Are  you  not  astonished  to  hear  such  news  ? 
You  cannot  imagine  how  much  I  am  antici- 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  303 

pating  in  entering  there.  It  has  been  in  my 
thought  by  day,  and  my  dreams  by  night,  ever 
since  I  heard  of  South  Hadley  seminary."  So 
widely  did  the  seminary  become  known,  that 
in  many  quarters  of  the  globe  the  word  still 
slips  easily  from  older  tongues,  a  persistent  tri- 
bute to  Mount  Holyoke's  early  fame.  But  Miss 
Lyon  met  triumph  as  equably  as  she  had 
looked  into  the  face  of  ridicule.  "  We  are  on  the 
top  wave  of  popularity  just  now,"  she  would 
say  with  cheerful  coolness  as  she  went  about 
her  work. 

Amusing  records  exist  of  swift  conversions. 
Dr.  D.  K.  Pearsons  has  sketched  one  of  them. 
The  indefatigable  donor  to  colleges,  himself 
among  the  pioneers  in  the  art — who,  when  a 
young  doctor  in  Chicopee,  caught,  as  he  claims, 
his  own  interest  in  education  from  watching 
Miss  Lyon — drove  a  "skeptical  minister"  to  a 
commencement  in  South  Hadley.  While  the 
doctor ' '  talked  Mary  Lyon ' '  the  minister  looked 
the  other  way.  "Going  home  after  the  exer- 
cises, I  had  all  I  could  do  to  hold  that  man  in 
the  wagon,  he  was  so  interested  in  Mary  Lyon 
and  the  girls  she  graduated  that  day." 


304    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

The  objections  raised  to  the  higher  educa- 
tion of  women  in  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century  have  a  curiously  familiar  sound  in  the 
twentieth.  Fears  were  entertained  for  health, 
manners,  charm.  The  account  of  another  com- 
mencement, printed  originally  in  the  Boston 
Recorder  under  "Notes  of  a  Traveller,"  is  so 
deliciously  flavored  with  the  vintage  of  1840 
as  to  forbid  omission  from  these  pages.  It  bears 
date  of  August  fourteenth. 

MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FEMALE  SEMINARY 

It  is  a  noble  affair.  I  have  not  long  thought 
so. — I  imagined  it  the  Sine  Dulci — a  sort  of 
New  England  Female  Oberlin,  with  rude 
buildings,  and  untasteful  arrangements,  and  a 
studious  avoidance  of  all  that  makes  woman 
lovely,  so  far  as  they  can  be  separated  from 
what  makes  her  respectable  and  in  some  re- 
spects, useful.  —  It  is  no  slander  to  say  this,  for 
hundreds  have  thought  it  and  do  still ;  and  be- 
sides, I  have  recanted ;  and  do  fully,  with  one 
slight  exception,  retract  all  I  have  spoken  in 
derogation  of  the  once  named  Pangynaskean 
school.  — Yesterday  was  the  time  of  their  An- 


niversary.  And  I  am  sure  that  not  one,  of  the 
crowds  which  filled  the  beautiful  edifice  and 
listened  to  the  performances,  has  any  remaining 
doubts  that  it  is  one  of  the  finest  schools  in  our 
land.  The  location  is  charming.  The  scenery 
varied.  The  building  in  good  taste;  well  fin- 
ished ;  handsomely  furnished ;  surrounded  by 
neat  fences  and  elegant  grounds.  The  menage 
is  excellent.  So  good  a  dinner  and  so  well  served 
I  have  never  before  seen  on  a  common  table, 
or  on  any  similar  public  occasion.  The  school 
room  was  decorated  with  plants.  The  teachers 
and  pupils  seemed  good-humored  and  happy. 
And  though  some  of  the  lighter  accomplish- 
ments, as  drawing,  music,  and  embroidery, 
were  either  not  exhibited,  or  evidently  not  made 
very  prominent  in  the  course  of  instruction, 
yet  there  was  no  evidence  that  precision,  awk- 
wardness, and  coarseness  of  taste  are  promoted 
by  the  principles  and  habits  of  the  institution, 
plain  and  domestic  as  they  are.  Of  President 
Hopkins'  address  and  Mr.  Condit's  farewell 
address,  I  can  only  say  that  they  were  worthy 
of  the.  occasion.  I  mentioned  an  exception  to 
my  approval.  I  hardly  know  whether  to  erase 


306    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

that  line,  or  to  explain  it  by  objecting  to  the  pub- 
lic conferring  of  degrees.  I  think,  however,  it 
is  an  evil,  slight  in  itself,  but  leading  to  others, 
and  endangering  that  beautiful  seclusion  in 
which  female  loveliness  should  live  and  move, 
and  have  both  its  being  and  its  rewards. 
Twelve  young  ladies,  without  parents,  rising 
in  a  crowded  church  to  receive  a  broad  diploma 
with  its  collegiate  seal,  presented  to  my  view 
the  least  attractive  spectacle  of  a  most  interest- 
ing day — ought  I  to  point  out  a  spot  upon  the 
sun  ?  Perhaps  so,  if  there  is  any  hope  of  re- 
moving it.  But  it  is  a  noble  school,  and  will  cer- 
tainly flourish.  So  much  for  my  confession  and 
recantation.  I  have  not  liked  it,  and  should  not 
have  advised  any  young  lady  to  attend  it  who 
could  well  attend  a  different  school.  Now,  I 
know  of  none  which  I  would  sooner  recom- 
mend even  to  a  wealthy  parent,  who  desired 
that  his  daughter  should  be  well  educated, 
without  show  on  the  one  hand,  or  pedantry  and 
awkwardness  on  the  other. 

It  was  in  the  address  to  which  the  "Travel- 
ler" refers  that  President  Hopkins  said :  "This, 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    307 

I  understand,  is  the  only  female  seminary  in  the 
Union  where  the  buildings  and  grounds,  the 
library  and  apparatus,  are  pledged  as  perma- 
nent contributions  to  the  cause  of  female  edu- 
cation. All  other  seminaries  are  sustained  by 
individual  enterprise,  in  so'me  cases  by  a  single 
person,  in  others  by  associations  who  receive 
an  income  from  the  investment  of  their  money. 
It  is  on  this  ground  especially  that  the  trustees 
of  this  seminary  present  their  claims  upon  the 
liberality  of  the  public,  and  as  it  seems  to  me 
with  good  reason.  It  is  an  attempt  to  do  for  the 
daughters  of  the  State  what  the  State  itself  and 
beneficent  individuals  have  from  the  first  done 
for  its  sons." 

Had  the  speaker  made  his  first  statement  a 
year  earlier,  he  would  not  have  been  in  error. 
The  "exception  of  recent  origin,"  recorded  by 
footnote  in  the  printed  address,  probably  refers 
to  Monticello  Seminary,  which,  after  nearly 
two  years  of  private  ownership,  had  shortly  be- 
fore been  deeded  to  trustees  and  the  following 
year  received  a  charter.  Or  may  it  point  to 
Georgia  Female  College  ?  Incorporated  some 
months  after  Mount  Holyoke,  with  the  right  to 


308    THE  LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

grant  degrees,  it  opened  in  1839,  with  a  pre- 
paratory department  only  recently  shuffled  off 
and  leaving  a  trace  of  its  existence  in  what  are 
referred  to  in  the  latest  catalogue  1  as  "  sub- 
collegiate  pupils."  The  incubus  of  a  mortgage 
led  in  five  years  to  its  sale  and  subsequent  trans- 
fer from  the  Georgia  conference  of  the  Meth- 
odist-Episcopal Church  to  the  whole  Church 
South,  and  a  new  charter,  incorporating  Wes- 
leyan  Female  College.  Having  leased  the  plant 
for  years,  always  to  a  minister  of  the  Methodist 
church,  in  1896  the  trustees  again  took  over  its 
operation.  The  "college"  at  Macon  seems  to 
have  been  the  first  of  women's  institutions  to 
claim  the  name ;  English,  mathematics,  natural 
science,  Latin  or  Greek,  and  a  modern  language 
led  to  a  degree.  It  offered  no  philosophy  and 
the  scope  of  its  learning  is  a  point  which  the 
loss  of  early  records  leaves  in  doubt. 

The  eye  lingers  among  these  yellowing  com- 
mencement papers.  How  quaint  is  their  blend- 
ing of  things  new  and  old,  how  coeval  are  they 
with  the  timeless  ways  of  men !  Take  the  ques- 
tion with  which  Professor  Hitchcock  begins 

1   1908-1909. 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED    309 

his  talk  at  Mount  Holyoke's  fifth  anniversary: 
"  Why  is  it  necessary  that  these  addresses  should 
be  confined  to  the  subject  of  female  education  ? 
Why  should  not  the  speaker  be  allowed  the 
same  wide  field  in  which  to  choose  his  subject 
as  is  given  to  those  who  address  young  men  in 
our  colleges  at  their  annual  commencements  ?" 
A  twentieth-century  auditor  at  a  woman's  col- 
lege often  feels  like  echoing,  Why,  indeed  ? 
Or  note  the  guarded  manner  of  a  still  earlier 
speaker :  "  Whether  the  progress  of  experience 
will  establish,  by  universal  consent,  a  three  or 
four  years'  course  of  study  in  the  higher  depart- 
ments of  knowledge  as  the  proper  one  for  those 
females  who  are  able  to  obtain  a  liberal  edu- 
cation, is  not  yet  known.  Nor  can  we  yet  de- 
termine whether  it  will  be  found  expedient 
to  congregate  them  generally  in  seminaries  for 
this  purpose.  This  much,  however,  is  certain. 
There  are  interesting  and  important  experi- 
ments in  progress — and  this  Seminary  is  one 
of  the  most  interesting  and  important  of  them 
— which  must  exert  great  influence  on  the  pub- 
lic mind.  Should  it  be  proved  that  one  or  two 
hundred  females  can  be  retained  in  a  seminary 


310    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

during  a  three  years'  course  of  study  without, 
on  the  one  hand,  restricting  the  well-disposed 
too  much  by  regulations  made  for  the  unruly 
and  the  wayward,  and,  on  the  other,  without 
those  corrupting  influences  to  which  large  semi- 
naries are  supposed  to  be  peculiarly  liable,  the 
founding  of  this  institution  will  form  an  epoch 
in  the  history  of  the  female  mind  in  this  land." 
Features  of  the  life  which  was  fashioned 
under  so  wise  and  tender  a  hand  take  color 
from  the  age.  The  daily  schedule  with  its  early 
hours,  the  fast  days,  the  grave  and  heart- 
searching  Sabbaths,  the  whale-oil  lamps,  the 
open  Franklin  stoves,  the  individual  wood- 
bins,  betoken  a  time  that  has  quite  vanished 
from  the  thought  of  men.  In  the  loftiness  of 
its  purpose,  in  its  simplicity,  sincerity,  and  ear- 
nestness, in  its  very  rigor  and  restriction,  the 
young  Mount  Holyoke  shows  clearly  the  col- 
lege pattern  of  its  time.  And  while  one  might 
have  bespoken  for  it  something  more  of  light- 
someness,  it  had  its  relaxations.  Choir-practice 
gave  outlet  to  overflowing  spirits,  and  then  as 
now  the  lovely  rolling  country  invited  adven- 
turous feet.  Decorous  Thanksgiving  gayeties 


peep  through  the  years,  with  Miss  Lyon  "  in  fine 
spirits."  It  was  her  thrifty  way  often  to  further 
several  ends  at  once :  witness  those  excursions 
into  the  woods  after  blueberries  which  she  or- 
ganized, with  the  young  men  of  South  Hadley 
for  drivers.  There  were  more  ambitious  outings, 
too,  occasions  such  as  that  in  which  Amherst 
and  Mount  Holyoke  joined  for  the  christening 
of  Mount  Norwottock.  From  one  of  these  pic- 
nics, which  Williston  Seminary  also  shared, 
has  been  preserved  an  agile  bit  of  Miss  Lyon's 
repartee.  Francis  A.  March,  the  philologist, 
then  a  college  student,  proposed  the  health 
of  "  Mary  Lyon  and  Mount  Holyoke  Seminary 
—  a  jewel  set  in  fine  gold."  —  "  Mr.  March  — 
may  the  mind  of  March  keep  pace  with  the 
march  of  mind !"  she  flashed,  as  he  named  the 
toast. 

.  Despite  its  limitations,  there  was  nothing 
negative  about  the  training  Mount  Holyoke 
offered  in  these  earliest  years.  Perhaps  at  no 
period  has  the  higher  education  yielded  a  more 
efficient  output  of  women.  The  explanation  is 
not  far  to  seek.  There  is  a  department  of  per- 
sonal dynamics  without  which  the  most  com- 


312    THE  LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

plete  equipment  in  other  lines  fails  somewhat 
of  its  purpose,  and  here  the  young  venture 
was  amply  endowed.  To  know  Mary  Lyon 
was  an  education  in  itself.  Her  spirit  challenged 
all  a  girl's  dormant  faculties  to  see  and  seek 
the  best.  Life,  physical,  intellectual,  spiritual, 
quickened  at  the  touch  of  her  vital  presence. 
Let  her  come  once  or  twice  before  a  class  whose 
interest  a  teacher  had  acknowledged  herself 
unable  to  arouse,  and  immediately  such  an  en- 
thusiasm awoke  as  to  make  the  study,  we  are 
told,  a  subject  of  conversation  with  those  girls  at 
all  times  and  in  nearly  all  places.  But  whether 
or  no  in  the  class-room  a  student  caught  the 
"full  force  of  her  intellect,"  they  shared  alike 
her  weekly  afternoon  lectures  and  what  would 
now  be  called  her  chapel  talks.  For  the  latter 
a  few  notes  sufficed,  jotted  on  a  slip  of  paper 
which  was  generally  thrown  away  when  th.e 
occasion  for  its  use  had  passed.  It  was  not  her 
way  to  prepare  in  advance  for  the  others.  "  I 
look  around  to  get  the  inspiration  of  your 
countenances,"  she  said  once.  And  again,  "I 
do  not  mature  my  thoughts  much.  I  do  not 
give  you  anything  very  choice  or  rare." 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED  313 

For  us  to-day,  perhaps  there  is  no  nearer 
path  to  the  Mary  Lyon  of  the  seminary-hall 
platform  than  through  the  notes,  and  still  we 
follow  afar  off.  The  best  that  these  jottings 
can  do  is  to  suggest  to  the  imaginative  reader 
a  few  of  her  thoughts,  detached  drops  of  the 
swift  sparkling  current  of  speech  that  so  mar- 
velously  swayed  her  hearers'  mood  to  hers. 
"After  perhaps  a  diffuse  talk  to  us,"  reports 
a  listener,  "she  would  condense  so  completely 
that,  as  one  said,  she  gave  the  text  after  the 
sermon."  The  same  qualities  appear  as  at 
Ipswich,  mellowed  by  years  into  deeper  in- 
sight. She  "leads  us  not  in  the  beaten  track 
of  thought,"  writes  a  teacher.  Time  had  not 
sobered  her.  "Playful,"  "vivacious,"  "very 
animated  and  interesting,"  run  comments  on 
her  informal  afternoon  talks. 

"Do  be  particular  about  your  dress,"  she 
begs  whimsically.  "Anything  peculiar  about 
the  hair  or  dress  affects  me  as  I  look  at  you.  My 
mind  runs  like  lightning.  A  mind  of  this  char- 
acter has  many  faults  connected  with  it.  But 
in  reading  character,  where  I  am  disappointed 
once  for  the  worse  I  am  ten  times  for  the  better. 


[I]  find  [people]  worth  more  than  I  expected. 
I  feel  as  if  I  should  go  down  to  the  grave 
mourning  for  this  [misapprehension].  It  is 
contrary  to  my  principles  to  think  of  unfavor- 
able things."  —  "Taste  should  be  made  a  sub- 
ject of  practical  education,"  is  a  remark  that 
takes  its  departure  from  Gothic  cottages  and 
brings  up  again  at  clothes.  By  her  definition  it 
consists  in  "the  combination  of  things  which 
do  not  strike  the  eye.  ...  I  don't  like  to  wear 
anything  that  attracts  attention.  If  anything 
is  in  good  taste  the  change  in  the  fashion  is 
slight  for  several  years.  .  .  .  All  ladies  can't 
be  independent  enough  to  be  singular,  can't 
have  dignity  of  mind  enough.  If  your  minds 
are  likely  to  be  corroded  and  feel  ashamed, 
then  be  imitators.  Never  be  singular  so  as  to 
be  noticed ;  but  select  and  combine  so  as  to  be 
in  fashion." 

"The  body  and  mind  each  strives  to  see 
which  will  rule.  The  body  is  like  the  brute, 
the  mind  ranges  in  eternity.  .  .  .  The  master 
should  have  the  place  of  the  master.  The  mind 
should  not  sit  down  and  wash  the  body's  feet, 
but  the  body  should  obey  the  mind.  Example : 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    315 

we  wake  in  the  morning.  The  mind  says,  *  Get 
up!'  Body  says,  'It  is  cold!'  .  .  .  The  mind 
says,  'Walk!'  The  body  says,  'Go  and  get 
excused." 

"Let  not  external  familiarity  be  too  strong. 
Let  not  the  roots  spread  on  the  surface.  .  .  . 
Let  friendships  grow  forty  weeks  before  they 
become  ripened.  You  need  not  put  your  arms 
about  each  other  to  show  your  love.  The  best 
friendships  are  not  the  soonest  manifest.  They 
ripen  slowly.  You  are  here  from  all  parts  of  the 
United  States.  There  are  many  subjects  of 
common  interest  to  you.  Go  in  and  visit  each 
other  and  go  out  with  ceremony." 

"  We  are  not  aware  how  much  happiness  con- 
sists in  remembering.  ...  In  what  you  say, 
think,  look,  you  are  weaving  the  web  of  eter- 
nity. .  .  .  Avoid  things  and  do  things  to  make 
remembrances  pleasant.  .  .  .  In  whatever  situ- 
ation do  not  ask  for  ease ;  ask  for  such  as  will 
make  up  a  desirable  picture." 

"  In  pursuing  an  education  have  a  right  idea 
of  what  an  education  is.  Don't  judge  what  you 
have  a  taste  for.  Some  of  the  best  mathemati- 
cians are  dull  scholars  at  first." 


316    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

"This  institution  is  a  great  intellectual  and 
moral  machine,  and  if  you  will  jump  in  you 
may  ride  very  fast.  Do  something  —  teach  - 
have  a  plan  —  live  for  some  purpose.  Nothing 
is  more  pleasant  than  a  cultivated,  refined, 
well-organized  family." 

"  What  kind  of  a  mind  have  you  got  ?  Learn 
to  carry  everything  through  without  breaking  it 
off.  Bring  the  mind  to  a  perfect  abstraction  and 
let  thought  after  thought  pass  through  it.  No 
great  man  thinks  he  can  do  anything  without 
the  power  of  abstraction.  ...  If  your  mathe- 
matics are  all  broken  and  shattered,  get  the 
connection  as  in  grammar.  There  is  intellectual 
delight  in  this.  No  pleasure  is  like  the  pleasure 
of  active  effort." 

As  the  eye  slips  over  the  pages,  what  pic- 
turesquely suggestive  sentences  flash  to  meet 
it!  "When  you  write  a  letter,  write  what 
stands  out  in  bold  relief  —  let  it  be  warm  like 
the  living  daughter."  —  "There  are  those  who 
travel  all  their  lives  in  a  nutshell."  —  "  Eternity 
is  more  like  time,  except  in  degree,  than  we 
think."  — "Avoid  trying  the  patience  or  irri- 
tating the  feelings  of  others."  —  "  You  have  not 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    317 

governed  a  child  until  you  make  the  child  smile 
under  your  government ;  your  self-control  is  not 
perfect  until  you  cease  to  be  irritated  by  your 
own  government."  —  "We  can't  begin  a  moon 
and  go  out  with  the  same  sleeves."  —  "Never 
put  anything  in  the  fire  that  a  bird  will  open 
its  bill  to  get."  —  "Nothing  so  weakens  our 
faith  in  others  as  our  own  failures." 

Pestalozzi  said  of  his  grandfather:  "The 
best  way  for  a  child  to  learn  to  fear  God  is  to 
see  and  hear  a  real  Christian."  So  across  the 
span  of  years  her  students  have  seen  Mary 
Lyon  standing  at  the  heart  of  a  type  of  devout 
life  which  was  of  an  exquisite  and  convincing 
purity.  With  child-like  eagerness  she  reached 
out  for  spiritual  bounties,  and  few  could  re- 
sist her  gentle  touch.  The  difference  between 
what  she  was  and  what  she  seemed  never  dis- 
turbed a  girl's  hesitant  devoutness.  And  she 
was  wise,  adding  to  a  subtle  feeling  for  the  right 
moment  a  keen  sense  of  the  privacies  of  person- 
ality ;  it  is  not  decent  for  any  but  God  to  see  a 
naked  soul.  After  an  unfortunate  experience 
with  one  of  those  blunderers  who  would  force 
entrance  behind  closed  doors,  a  girl  whom  Miss 


318    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Lyon  loved  came  to  the  seminary,  steeling  her- 
self against  Miss  Lyon's  power.  **  She  shall  not 
make  me  a  Christian,"  was  her  thought.  All 
her  life  after  she  gave  thanks  for  Miss  Lyon's 
reticence.  On  her  morning  talks  before  the 
whole  student  body,  and  on  group  meetings, 
she  relied  largely  for  results.  Most  of  all  she 
relied  on  prayer.  "Say  little  —  pray  much." 
Yet  so  delicate  was  her  recognition  of  the  ne- 
cessity for  personal  initiative  that  she  some- 
times hesitated  to  ask  others  in  the  seminary 
to  pray  with  her.  "I  would  not  speak  to  you 
things  that  would  rouse  your  feelings  merely, 
but  I  would  awaken  your  consciences."  And 
always  normally  and  steadily  the  academic 
work  went  on.  President  Hitchcock  has  said 
that  during  these  periods  of  inner  awakening, 
"a  person  might  live  for  weeks  in  the  seminary 
...  and  yet  see  nothing  unusual  save  a  deep 
solemnity  and  tenderness  during  religious  ex- 
ercises. .  .  .  Those  exercises  would  not  be 
much  multiplied  .  .  .  nor  would  the  subject 
of  religion  be  obtruded  upon  the  visitor,  or 
introduced,  unless  he  manifested  an  unusual 
interest  in  the  state  of  the  school." 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    319 

To  her  who  was  their  priest  and  prophet  the 
women  who  had  been  her  girls  looked  back 
with  tender  and  ever-growing  reverence.  She 
spoke  "  like  the  voice  of  God  in  our  midst,"  one 
writes.  "Her  face  was  a  benediction."  An- 
other, referring  to  a  talk  before  those  who  were 
not  Christians,  has  said:  "She  touched  my 
heart.  Before  that  she  had  reached  my  intellect 
and  I  respected  her.  Ever  after  I  loved  her." 
"Through  all  her  lectures  she  preserved  the 
friendly,  sincere  tones  of  conversation,"  re- 
corded an  associate.  "  When  she  read  such  a 
passage  as  'He  that  is  holy,  let  him  be  holy 
still ' ;  or, '  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto 
me  and  drink,'  the  very  words  seemed  to  the 
hearer  to  have  a  soul  in  them."  "  Gentle,"  "  win- 
ning," "  persuasive,"  — sweetly  her  listeners  lift 
the  words  across  the  dusty  years.  But  she 
could  be  inexorable,  too.  Her  message  bore  no 
undertone  of  sad  labors  or  anchorite  denials ;  it 
blew  persistently  a  joyous  call  to  service.  To 
her  thought  the  supremacy  of  the  universe  lies 
with  the  souls  who  give  themselves.  Looking 
over  a  note- taker's  shoulder,  we  catch  the  echo 
of  her  words.  "  Those  obtain  the  greatest  hap- 


320    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

piness  who  seek  it  indirectly  by  promoting 
that  of  others.  'Let  love  through  all  our  ac- 
tions run,'  in  every  deed,  look,  word,  or  thought." 
—  "  How  much  happier  you  would  be  to  live 
in  a  thousand  lives  beside  yourself  rather  than 
to  live  in  yourself  alone !  This  throwing  out  the 
whole  soul  in  powerful,  vigorous,  disinterested 
action  for  others,  no  matter  how  self-denying, 
will  make  you  receive  a  hundredfold  in  return. 
First,  you  must  give  yourself  to  Christ,  and 
then  go  about  like  Him.  He  was  never  striving 
for  a  place  where  to  live." 

She  called  to  no  dreamy  other-worldliness. 
"Religion  is  fitted  to  make  us  better  in  every 
situation  in  life"  ;  and  she  summoned  students 
to  note  the  effect  which  a  faithful  performance 
of  duty  had  on  their  feelings  and  health.  The 
girl  who  asked  Miss  Lyon  for  an  excuse  from 
calisthenics  class  so  that  she  might  have  more 
time  to  read  her  Bible,  received  answer  that  it 
was  just  as  much  a  religious  duty  to  learn  her 
lessons  and  take  exercise  as  it  was  to  read  her 
Bible  or  to  pray.  Aristotle's  doctrine  that  the 
intellect  is  perfected  through  activity,  found  in 
her  nature  a  rarely  unified  interpretation.  She 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    321 

never  roused  feeling  without  at  the  same  time 
providing  opportunity  for  the  action  that  pre- 
serves healthy  poise. 

To  counteract  the  temptation  to  self-centred 
narrowness  which,  she  felt,  assails  student-life, 
her  girls  were  bred  to  a  habit  of  generosity  bv 
linking  their  efforts  with  the  fresh  and  eager 
liberalities  stirring  in  the  world  outside  their 
campus.  Where  to-day  a  thousand  lines  of  fra- 
ternity bind  men  to  men,  in  those  loosely  knit 
times  few  cables  carried  the  rising  currents  of 
good- will,  and  for  devout  hearts  the  strongest 
of  these  was  missions.  The  figures  of  Mount 
Holyoke's  annual  subscriptions  to  home  and 
foreign  missions  throughout  Miss  Lyon's  ad- 
ministration rise,  with  its  growth,  above  the 
thousand-dollar  line,  a  large  sum  in  view  of 
those  small  student-purses.  To  this  purpose 
Miss  Lyon  herself  always  devoted  from  a  third 
to  a  half  of  her  tiny  salary. 

Beyond  their  money  she  bade  them  give 
themselves.  "Do  what  nobody  else  wants  to 
do,  go  where  nobody  else  wants  to  go."  "Be 
willing  to  do  anything  anywhere ;  be  not  hasty 
to  decide  that  you  have  no  physical  or  mental 


322    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

strength,  no  faith  or  hope."  Her  words,  sped 
by  the  power  of  her  life,  winged  a  compelling 
invitation  straight  to  the  heroic  heart  of  youth. 
It  is  small  wonder  that  they  answered  her,  stu- 
dents and  teachers  going  out  to  girdle  the  earth 
with  quiet,  steadfast  service.  They  pressed  into 
new  paths  with  earnest  morning  faces,  and 
they  carried  into  old  ways  fresh  vigor.  The 
most  salient  impress  of  their  training  appears 
in  a  certain  fine  adequacy  to  life,  however  and 
wherever  they  might  touch  hands  with  it.  Ad- 
aptable, resourceful,  independent,  they  knew 
how  to  use  themselves,  and,  what  is  quite  as 
much  to  the  point,  they  possessed  the  will  to 
do  it. 

Wherever  they  went,  Miss  Lyon's  wise  fore- 
sight preceded  them  and  her  love  followed,  into 
their  homes,  their  schools,  their  mission-sta- 
tions. Here  is  her  recipe  for  a  woman  mission- 
ary :  "  piety,  a  sound  constitution,  and  a  merry 
heart."  It  is  still  noteworthy  that  her  enthusi- 
asm never  ran  away  with  her  sagacity.  "Do 
not  expect  to  make  over  this  world,"  she  coun- 
seled. In  reply  to  a  letter  from  Miss  Beecher 
proposing  the  establishment  in  Cincinnati  of  a 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE   FOUNDED    323 

clearing-house  for  the  distribution  of  teachers 
through  the  middle  West,  occurs  this  passage : 
"  There  is  a  difficulty  as  to  my  immediate  suc- 
cess in  furnishing  teachers  for  your  enterprise. 
For  young  ladies  must  not  only  be  willing  to  go, 
but  must  also  gain  the  approbation  of  father, 
mother,  or,  perhaps,  brother  or  sister  or  sister's 
husband.  As  the  enterprise  now  is,  it  will  be 
difficult  to  satisfy  very  careful  friends.  Just 
write  to  me  of  a  particular  place  by  name,  and 
that  a  teacher  can  have  proper  assurance  of  her 
paying  expenses  and  a  salary  of,  say,  only  a 
hundred  dollars,  and  I  have  little  doubt  that  I 
can  send  you  a  good  teacher  with  full  consent 
of  friends  as  soon  as  I  can  find  a  safe  escort. 
But  if  I  can  only  say  I  wish  to  send  a  teacher 
to  Miss  Beecher,  to  spend  a  few  weeks  at  Cin- 
cinnati in  preparing  for  an  unknown  field  with 
an  unknown  salary,  and  to  be  under  obligation 
to  an  unknown  donor,  the  case  is  different.  .  .  . 
You  will  excuse  me  if  my  suggestions  are  bor- 
rowed from  my  own  experience  the  last  ten 
years.  Having  had  many  obstacles  thrown  in 
my  own  way,  I  anticipate  them  for  others ;  and 
having  been  blessed  with  more  success  than  I 


324    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

ever  hoped,  I  am  prepared  to  expect  success 
for  others  as  I  do  for  you." 

A  very  close  and  tender  bond  held  its  daugh- 
ters to  that  early  Mount  Holyoke.  The  brother 
of  one  girl  wrote  Miss  Lyon,  "  Sometimes  I 
accuse  her  of  having  left  at  least  two  thirds  of 
her  heart  at  Mount  Holyoke  Seminary."  '  Your 
Holyoke  home  "  —the  phrase  slipped  from  Miss 
Lyon's  pen  to  be  warmly  echoed  under  many 
stars.  As  she  had  set  the  fashion  of  loving  it,  so 
she  sought  to  foster  the  relation  in  an  intimacy 
that  distance  might  not  destroy.  She  would 
keep  it  always  to  them  a  friendly  spot.  It  was 
she  who  invited  the  first  class  reunions,  and 
devised  the  plan  of  the  journals  that  traveled 
from  Mount  Holyoke  to  lonely  stations  in 
China,  India,  Persia,  Africa,  and  the  wide 
American  West,  holding  far-away  women  in 
touch  with  their  Alma  Mater  and  drawing  in 
return  letters  that  kept  it  in  touch  with  them. 
Their  names  were  often  on  her  lips,  and  suc- 
ceeding generations  of  undergraduates  came  to 
think  of  them  as  honored  sisters  who  had  gone 
before. 

Where  now  was  but  "a  little  one,"  she  saw 


<!    £ 


MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FOUNDED    325 

in  coming  years  a  mighty  mother,  and  against 
the  day  of  reminiscence  that  she  knew  would 
dawn,  her  capacious  brain  made  ready  with  a 
forethought  that  recalls  the  student's  exclama- 
tion: "It  is  remarkable  how  she  takes  every- 
thing into  view!"  Perhaps  no  act  of  her  life 
revealed  more  prescience  and  practicality  than 
the  founding  in  1839  of  the  Memorandum  So- 
ciety, forerunner  of  the  later  alumnae  associa- 
tion, with  the  double  aim  of  recording  informa- 
tion about  its  members  and  of  preserving  the 
records  of  Mount  Holyoke.  The  words  that 
explained  it  to  her  girls — words  of  which  the 
note-taker's  quill  has  kept  for  us  a  fragmentary 
glimpse  —  may  well  close  this  study  of  her 
grasp,  hinting  as  they  do  at  the  limitless  reach 
of  her  spirit.  She  had  been  talking  about  sym- 
pathetic associations  with  the  past,  speaking 
of  Greece,  and  suddenly  she  turned  to  flash 
upon  her  hearers  the  insight  that  they,  too, 
were  makers  of  history.  "This  institution  is 
destined  to  exist  thousands  of  years.  It  is 
founded  on  a  strong  basis,  destined  to  be  of  a 
higher  order  than  any  seminary  in  the  country." 
Catching  at  the  illustration  nearest  to  her  lis- 


326    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

teners'  thought,  "  It  is  as  likely  that  it  will  con- 
tinue as  that  Amherst  College  will  [continue]. 
[The]  design  of  [the]  Memorandum  Society  is 
to  preserve  a  knowledge  of  facts  connected 
with  the  school.  It  is  of  vast  importance,  and 
could  we  look  back  upon  fifty  years  of  its  exist- 
ence, we  should  see  its  utility." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE   COST   OF   PIONEERING 

A  PERSON  may  not  whole-heartedly  throw  six- 
teen of  her  richest  years  into  the  vindication  of 
an  unpopular  idea,  without  paying  the  price. 
Those  years  yielded  Mary  Lyon  a  strong,  sweet, 
satisfying  sense  of  life,  and  life  on  less  heroic 
terms,  one  feels  instinctively,  could  never  have 
contented  her.  She  preferred  quality  to  quan- 
tity. Better  twenty  years  with  an  education 
than  forty  without,  she  had  said  at  Ipswich. 
When  she  cried  to  her  girls,  "  Do  not  ask  for  a 
life  of  ease,  you  are  asking  a  curse !"  the  words 
voiced  in  negative  form  her  own  fundamental 
attitude  toward  existence.  And  she  did  not  be- 
grudge the  cost. 

As  freely  as  she  had  spent  herself  to  finance 
Mount  Holyoke,  she  poured  her  energies  into 
its  upbuilding.  The  Boston  "Daily  Mail,"  in 
its  issue  of  August  15,  1846,  after  touching  on 
the  anniversary  of  the  "distinguished  institu- 


328    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

tion  at  South  Hadley  for  the  training  of  female 
minds,"  the  "  eloquent  address,"  the  "  forty-two 
graduates,"  the  excess  of  demand  over  accom- 
modation, continues  in  the  expansive  phrases 
of  sixty  years  ago :  "  The  stranger  who  looks  at 
this  institution,  its  splendid  edifice,  unsurpassed 
by  any  college  building  in  the  land,  containing 
nearly  one  hundred  neatly  furnished  rooms, 
with  a  large  chapel,  dining-hall,  and  library, 
surrounded  by  extended  gardens,  -  -  could 
hardly  believe  that  it  had  all  resulted  from  the 
persevering  efforts  of  one  Female,  enlisting 
the  benevolent  energies  of  others.  Yet  such  is 
the  fact,  and  it  affords  a  striking  illustration 
of  the  power  of  mind,  stimulated  by  motives  of 
philanthropy.  The  object  of  its  originator  was 
to  furnish  the  means  of  a  thorough  education  to 
promising  daughters  of  the  poor,  as  well  as  of 
the  rich ;  and  this  object  has  been  entirely  real- 
ized." 

The  "Female"  thus  delicately  glimpsed  be- 
tween the  lines  of  the  "Daily  Mail's"  modest 
verbiage  put  more  than  mind  into  the  work.  It 
had  called  for  blood  and  tissue  and  she  had 
built  it  out  of  her  own  life.  Under  the  most 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    329 

favorable  conditions  an  educational  concern 
generally  overworks  its  organizers ;  and  Mount 
Holyoke,  ill  supplied  with  money  and  ham- 
pered by  adverse  currents  of  public  opinion, 
had  little  with  which  to  ease  the  way  of  Mary 
Lyon.  Two  courses  lie  open  to  one  who  would 
do  a  thing  for  which  he  lacks  seeming  neces- 
sities: either  to  give  it  up  entirely  or  to  add 
himself  to  slender  material  resources  and  by 
expenditure  of  energy  and  invention  eke  out 
that  of  purse.  Miss  Lyon  was  an  adept  in  this 
combination,  but  it  is  a  mastery  that  drains 
vitality,  and  from  the  merging  point  of  the 
thirties  and  forties,  when  the  enlargement  of 
the  building  threw  upon  her  added  burdens, 
a  consciousness  of  her  body  forced  itself  now 
and  again  more  or  less  insistently  on  her  atten- 
tion. 

It  could  hardly  have  been  otherwise.  The 
incessant  and  exposing  rigors  of  the  three  years' 
campaign  for  funds  had  led  directly  into  the  no 
less  incessant  toil  of  organization.  An  old  lady, 
who  as  a  student  entered  Mount  Holyoke  in 
the  fall  of  1837,  remarks  with  a  twinkle  in  her 
eye,  "Going  near  Miss  Lyon  that  first  year 


330    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

was  like  getting  in  front  of  an  automobile"; 
adding,  "  But  she  always  had  time  for  a  cordial 
word."  She  had  not  planned  to  be  so  busy. 
Loads  dropped  unexpectedly  from  weaker 
shoulders  and  she  picked  them  up.  When  the 
health  of  the  person  who  had  been  engaged  as 
domestic  superintendent  proved  unequal  to  the 
demands  made  upon  it,  Miss  Lyon,  sympa- 
thizing with  the  woman's  open  disappointment, 
sent  her  away  with  a  parting  gift  out  of  her  own 
purse  nearly  equal  to  the  salary  she  had  re- 
ceived, and  took  her  work  upon  herself.  In  the 
spring  Miss  Caldwell's  strength  gave  out,  and 
for  several  weeks  Miss  Lyon  added  most  of  her 
associate's  duties  to  the  formidable  assortment 
already  her  own.  Her  hitherto  invincible  mem- 
ory began  to  show  signs  of  overstrain.  "  To  tell 
the  truth,"  she  wrote,  "during  the  last  year, 
much  of  the  time,  amidst  all  my  cares  about 
school,  family,  domestic  concerns,  obtaining 
furniture,  setting  up  housekeeping,  economiz- 
ing our  means,  and  contriving  how  to  do  with- 
out what  we  cannot  have,  it  has  seemed  as  if  I 
should  forget  everything,  unless  it  was  on  my 
memorandum." 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    331 

Miss  Caldwell  has  given  insight  into  a  sin- 
gle phase  of  the  principal's  activity  that  first 
year  which  would  seem  to  have  been  enough 
to  absorb  one  woman's  whole  attention.  "  Be- 
sides giving  systematic  religious  instruction, 
she  matured  a  course  of  study,  watched  the  re- 
citations, directed  individual  students  in  the 
selection  of  studies,  criticised  compositions, 
instructed  the  middle  class  in  chemistry,  — 
performing  with  them  a  course  of  experiments, 
— and  taught  several  other  branches.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life  she  taught  Whately's  Logic, 
and  entered  into  it  with  as  much  eagerness  and 
relish  as  she  had  plunged  into  Virgil  in  the  days 
of  her  youth." 

Even  when  Mount  Holyoke  had  surprised 
people  by  turning  out  well,  its  founder  must  be 
always  ready  to  meet  sudden  drafts  on  her 
reserves.  Marriage  and  the  mission  field,  some- 
times twin  calls,  sometimes  drawing  separately, 
lured  from  her  teaching  force  trusty  helpers; 
and  though  she  let  them  go  cheerfully,  it  cost  a 
struggle.  The  parting  with  her  two  brilliant 
nieces,  Lucy  Lyon  and  Abigail  Moore,  who 
near  the  middle  of  the  forties  sailed  with  their 


332    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

husbands,  the  one  for  China,  the  other  for 
India,  cut  cords  of  intimate  association  on 
which  she  may  well  have  built  rich  promise. 
What  hopes  sailed  away  from  her  over  the 
Indian  Ocean  with  Abigail  Moore  Burgess,  so 
lately  her  own  assistant,  we  may  not  know. 
She  was  not  given  to  talking  about  what  might 
have  been.  We  do  know  that  these  agitations 
packed  into  her  already  over  full  years  much 
extra  work  to  which  a  cautious  generation  did 
not  hesitate  to  add.  Every  gain  in  the  growth 
that  reads  so  easily  to-day  was  purchased  at 
an  outlay  of  persuasion.  People  who  confessed 
gladness  that  she  had  cajoled  them  into  found- 
ing Mount  Holyoke  feared  much  further  to 
dare  the  future,  and  there  were  always  many 
who  distrusted  permanence.  It  would  not  long 
outlive  Miss  Lyon,  they  said.  Men  objected 
even  to  enlarging  the  building,  and  only  her 
unflagging  urgency  spurred  the  trustees  to  ac- 
tion. How  her  spirit  must  have  chafed  at  re- 
straint, compelled  to  "advance  slowly"  when 
she  would  have  leaped !  "  The  wear  and  tear  of 
what  I  cannot  do  is  a  great  deal  more  than  the 
wear  and  tear  of  what  I  can  do,"  she  used  to 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    333 

quote.  And  though  she  bore  it  buoyantly,  there 
was  ever  present  with  her  a  sense  of  account- 
ability to  that  wide  circle  of  men  and  women 
who  had  made  Mount  Holyoke  possible.  Such 
drains  as  these  sap  life. 

Nor  were  many  of  the  duties  that  contributed 
to  draw  the  pattern  of  those  arduous  days  what 
she  would  have  chosen  as  the  most  congenial 
ways  of  spending  time.  There  often  fell  to  her 
oversight  matters  as  far  from  ordinary  admin- 
istrative detail  as  those  which  pass  through 
matron's  hands,  superintendent's  office,  and 
bookstore.  She  had  to  remember  to  have  the 
ink  made ;  to  engage  men  to  carry  baggage ;  to 
keep  furniture  and  linen  in  repair ;  to  order  sup- 
plies for  the  table ;  to  think  of  menus  for  the 
three  daily  meals,  and  sometimes,  when  she 
went  away,  to  leave  them  written  out  for  the 
time  of  her  absence ;  to  study  recipes ;  to  har- 
monize academic  and  domestic  schedules — in 
itself  no  slight  triumph  of  her  rapid  brain. 

After  commencement  she  must  linger  to 
oversee  the  closing  of  the  house,  and  before  the 
fall  term,  arrive  early  to  open  it.  Now  and  then 
she  asked  a  young  teacher  to  help  her,  and  one 


334    THE   LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

of  them  has  left  a  pleasant  picture  of  the  "  priv- 
ilege," as  she  calls  it,  of  staying  a  week  with 
Miss  Lyon,  feeling  the  "warm  social  side  of 
her  heart"  expressed  in  her  "  light-hearted  man- 
ner. .  .  .  How  she  enjoyed  the  simple  meal  at 
the  small  table !  But  the  small  talk  was  worth 
remembering."  Another  summed  the  situation 
in  a  pregnant  sentence :  "  All  things  which  be- 
long to  no  one  else  are  hers ;  and  this  amount  is 
no  small  fraction  of  the  whole." 

That  such  use  of  her  strength  was  in  one 
sense  a  waste,  she  knew  quite  well.  "  The  time 
I  have  devoted  [to  domestic  duties],"  she  said 
once  to  her  girls,  "has  been  stolen  from  liter- 
ary and  moral  pursuits."  But  those  who  blaze 
new  trails  may  not  pick  and  choose,  and  the 
compulsion  that  was  always  upon  her  to  finish 
what  she  had  begun  drove  relentlessly.  She 
must  so  fit  together  the  machinery  of  her  enter- 
prise that  persons  less  unique  than  she  could 
run  it  successfully.  "Uncommon  talents  are 
very  convenient,"  she  had  once  scribbled,  "but 
they  are  of  so  rare  occurrence  that  any  estab- 
lishment, so  organized  that  it  be  sustained 
and  prosper  only  by  such  talents,  would  ever 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    335 

be  in  danger  of  falling  by  its  own  weight,  and 
of  being  crushed  by  its  own  ruins." 

On  the  success  of  her  experiment  turned  is- 
sues too  big  for  caution  or  regret.  In  her  last 
year  she  wrote  Mrs.  Burgess :  "  My  life  is  made 
up,  as  you  know,  of  an  endless  number  of 
duties  of  nameless  littleness,  interwoven  if  not 
confused  together.  But  still  my  work  is  a  good 
work." 

This  mastery  of  detail,  coupled  with  imagi- 
nation and  broad  grasp,  —  a  blend  that  marks 
the  administrative  mind,  wherever  applied,  — 
made  her  twelve  years'  leadership  a  marvel  of 
management.  Judged  merely  from  a  business 
standpoint,  Miss  Lyon's  administration  was  a 
notable  achievement.  Its  high  power  of  effi- 
ciency, secured  at  astonishingly  small  cost, 
caused  Mount  Holyoke  to  become  the  wonder 
of  visitors;  and  to-day  the  inquisitor  into  old 
figures,  while  allowing  largely  for  depreciation 
in  the  purchasing  power  of  money,  finds  in  her 
skill  at  making  ends  meet,  and  sometimes  over- 
lap, a  hint  of  wizardry.  Sixty  dollars  a  year 
covered  board  and  tuition,  exclusive  of  charges 
for  fuel  and  lights.  It  had  been  advertised  that 


336    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY   LYON 

expense  would  be  put  at  cost,  and  the  first  year's 
experimental  charge  was  sixty-four  dollars. 
The  closeness  of  her  estimate  conveys  an  il- 
luminating notion  of  her  practical  acumen. 
During  her  management  the  plant  freed  itself 
from  the  debt  incurred  in  building.  In  all, 
she  succeeded  in  raising  nearly  seventy  thou- 
sand dollars  out  of  a  generation  largely  indiffer- 
ent to  the  higher  education  of  women  and  com- 
paratively lean-pursed,  —  a  sum  probably  not 
to  be  paralleled  to-day  under  millions  in  the 
expenditure  of  personal  power  that  it  repre- 
sented. 

It  is  difficult  to  see  where  she  found  time  to 
do  all  that  she  did,  for  her  habitual  accessibility 
to  need  laid  her  open  to  demands  of  the  most 
varied  character.  The  Wheatons  wrote  asking 
advice  in  the  purchase  of  chemical  apparatus. 
A  missionary  society  was  started  at  the  semi- 
nary, and  on  her  election  to  the  presidency  she 
gave  thought  and  time  to  making  the  meetings 
"extremely  interesting."  The  incident  sends 
memory  flitting  back  to  a  mission  band  num- 
bering sixty  children  which  she  had  formed  at 
Buckland  twenty-five  years  earlier,  climbing 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    337 

stone  walls  and  letting  down  pasture-bars  in 
the  furtherance  of  her  invitations.  Ever  con- 
siderate of  her  girls'  happiness,  during  a  spring 
vacation  she  invited  those  students  who  could 
not  go  home  to  join  with  her  in  a  reading 
circle;  while  the  rest  sewed,  one  read  aloud 
from  Prescott's  "Conquest  of  Peru."  To  the 
multitude  of  applications  for  teachers  she 
brought  solicitous  care  to  provide  in  every 
case  the  right  woman  and,  as  in  undergraduate 
affairs,  an  inspiriting  insight  into  individual 
ability  that  in  itself  went  far  to  make  one  fit. 
Sometimes  a  shake-up  was  required  to  set  free 
the  candidate  she  wanted ;  but  always  she  had 
another  in  mind  to  supply  the  vacant  place,  if 
release  were  granted.  Her  insistence  on  scru- 
pulous honesty  of  contract  was  seconded  by  her 
sense  of  the  courtesies  due  in  an  educational 
situation.  While  she  sought  to  remove  "that 
false  mantle  of  charity,  which  has  been  thrown 
over  a  great  many  little  schools  and  great  ones, 
too,"  bad  faith  or  rivalry  between  promoters 
of  education  won  her  fearless  disapproval ; 
she  had  no  use  for  a  person  who  would  try  to 
steal  the  territory  of  any  self-respecting  school. 


"  Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself,  and,  As  ye  would 
that  others  should  do  to  you,  etc.,  are  to  me 
broad  commands,  and  have  a  peculiar  power 
and  sacredness  in  all  public  efforts  to  do  good." 
Yet  with  all  her  necessity  to  use  the  minutes, 
she  never  pressed  them  into  the  too  obvious 
service  that  forms  some  people's  notion  of  im- 
proving time,  and  against  this  infelicity  she 
warned  her  students. 

The  explanation  of  the  surprising  volume  of 
her  accomplishment  probably  lies  in  two  facts 
already  noted  —  the  rapidity  and  the  com- 
pleteness with  which  she  turned  her  attention 
from  one  thing  to  another.  She  could  mobilize 
her  mental  forces  at  a  moment's  notice,  though 
her  absorption  might  be  so  profound  that  a 
touch  was  needed  to  rouse  her  from  her  work. 
Lucy  Lyon  told  of  breaking  in  on  her  aunt's 
settlement  of  some  vexed  kitchen  problem  with 
a  question  about  a  certain  baffling  point  in  But- 
ler's "Analogy."  The  explanation  came  as  in- 
stantaneously as  though  she  had  concerned  her- 
self only  with  abstruse  matters  all  her  life. 

It  must  not  be  thought  that  she  spent  her 
strength  recklessly.  So  far  as  the  conditions 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    339 

incident  to  pioneering  permitted,  she  was  pru- 
dent. "It  is  a  great  thing  to  know  how  to  rest 
rightly."  Now  and  then  she  liked  to  run  away 
from  South  Hadley,"  partly  for  my  own  benefit," 
as  she  wrote  Mrs.  Banister  before  one  of  these 
excursions,  "and  partly  to  sustain  my  credit 
for  taking  proper  care  of  my  unworthy  self." 

Though  on  most  of  these  rest-trips  she  car- 
ried letters  which  her  student  secretaries  and 
the  teachers  could  not  answer  for  her,  and  ac- 
complished much  business,  she  came  back  with 
a  fresh  grip  on  her  work.  Mr.  Porter's  Monson 
home  was  a  favorite  retreat,  and  Mr.  Safford's 
Beacon  Street  house  always  welcomed  her 
gladly.  Once  in  a  while  we  learn  of  an  outing 
of  unalloyed  recreation;  such  as  the  month 
when,  traveling  in  company  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Safford,  she  revisited  Niagara  and  stopped  at 
her  brother's  in  Ohio.  It  was  on  this  journey 
that  she  arrived  at  a  relative's  in  western  New 
York  just  in  time  to  save  his  homestead  from 
passing  under  the  hammer. 

Here  is  a  suggestive  bit  from  a  letter  written 
at  Somers,  Connecticut,  to  her  most  intimate 
niece :  — 


340    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

;<  You  know  how  exhausted  I  am  at  the  close 
of  the  anniversary,  and  how  difficult  I  find  it  to 
sleep  the  last  two  or  three  weeks.  So  just  be- 
fore Mary  left,  it  occurred  to  us  that  it  would 
be  a  good  plan  for  me  to  go  home  with  Mary  to 
rest  and  make  up  my  sleep.  Without  waiting  to 
see  whether  I  could  or  riot,  I  put  the  thought 
into  requisition.  This  is  the  best  place  I  could 
have  had  for  rest.  It  is  so  quiet,  so  peaceful, 
the  air  so  pure  and  fresh,  you  are  so  surrounded 
with  kind  faces  and  kind  hearts.  It  is  so  good 
to  rest  the  first  thing.  I  shall  want  to  do  just  so 
next  year." 

In  simple  pleasures  she  renewed  herself,  in 
friendly  faces  and  in  lovely  scenes.  She  made  a 
delightful  guest,  and  people  were  always  beg- 
ging her  to  visit  them.  With  thoughtful  re- 
source she  could  solve  a  threatening  dilemma 
and  leave  a  hostess  in  serene  ignorance  of  how 
she  did  it.  Her  gift  at  finding  people  worth 
while  ignored  the  lines  of  size  and  outward  cir- 
cumstance, and  servants  and  children  adored 
her.  Mrs.  Porter,  writing  of  her  "help,"  re- 
marked: "Adeline  sends  respects  and  joins 
with  me  in  an  invitation  to  have  you  come  and 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    341 

visit  us.  She  says  she  would  rather  have  Miss 
Lyon  come  than  any  one  who  visits  here.  .  .  . 
I  wish  she  was  as  happy  in  having  all  my  friends 
come  as  you.  It  would  be  much  to  my  comfort." 

An  amusing  story  tells  how  Miss  Lyon's  un- 
expected arrival  was  announced  one  evening 
at  the  Safford  home.  A  German  maid,  not 
fully  wonted  to  her  duties  or  to  the  speech  of 
her  new  country,  answered  the  bell,  and  leaving 
the  guest  standing  on  the  door- step  beside  her 
trunk,  rushed  through  the  house,  shouting  joy- 
fully, "  The  Lyon  —  she  be  come !  The  Lyon 
—  she  be  come!  " 

Mr.  Hitchcock's  little  girls  laboriously  wrote 
her  letters:  "I  have  made  considerable  pro- 
gress in  my  Latin.  ...  I  think  the  verbs  are 
very  interesting  as  you  said  they  would  be." 
And  in  the  heart  of  the  ferryman's  small  daugh- 
ter, for  whom  Miss  Lyon  always  had  a  pleas- 
ant greeting,  dwelt  a  deep  and  wordless  ad- 
miration ;  she  confessed  long  afterwards  that  in 
church  she  liked  just  to  sit  and  look  at  Miss 
Lyon's  bonnet! 

Nor  were  they  girls  alone  whom  she  num- 
bered in  her  train.  More  than  one  "little  lad" 


342    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

she  "borrowed"  of  an  afternoon.  "I  was  her 
errand  boy  for  more  than  a  year  and  I  never 
saw  a  cross  look  out  of  her  eyes,"  said  one  of 
them  long  after.  A  citizen  of  South  Hadley 
who,  as  boy  and  young  man,  served  her  in 
many  ways,  ends  his  stories  with  the  words :  "  I 
would  have  done  anything  she  asked  me  to. 
Everybody  would." 

"Almost  the  only  time  I  ever  met  Miss 
Lyon,"  runs  another's  recollection,  "was when, 
a  young  lad,  I  was  employed  to  drive  her  to 
Belchertown.  She  had  a  text-book  on  moral 
science  with  her,  in  which  she  studied  most  of 
the  way,  but  she  paused  long  enough  to  inquire 
into  my  boyish  plans,  and  gave  me  words  of  en- 
couragement that  have  been  help  and  stimulus 
to  me  ever  since." 

The  part  of  hostess  fitted  her  as  happily  as 
that  of  guest,  and  she  played  it  as  impartially. 
She  delighted  to  welcome  people  to  Mount 
Holyoke,  —  strangers,  new  acquaintances,  old 
friends  whom  she  might  not  have  seen  for  years, 
persons  of  note  and  of  obscurity,  —  and  to 
share  them  with  her  girls.  A  lecturer  passing 
through  the  region,  and  pausing  for  a  call,  would 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    343 

find  himself  eagerly  pressed  into  service;  arid 
more  than  one  student  carried  away  remem- 
brance of  the  joy  in  Miss  Lyon's  face  when  she 
could  say,  "  My  dear  friend  Mrs.  Banister  is  in 
the  parlor,  and  I  want  to  arrange  to  have  you 
all  meet  her." 

While  her  vivacity  was  never  more  evident 
than  in  the  large  evening  gatherings  that  her 
invitations  drew  from  time  to  time  to  "sem- 
inary hall,"  her  simplicity  and  thoughtfulness 
everywhere  opened  a  quick  road  to  hearts. 
Not  long  ago  an  old  lady  said  to  me :  "  I  remem- 
ber distinctly  the  time  when  I,  not  quite  five 
years  old,  went  to  the  seminary  to  see  my  sister. 
My  father,  another  sister,  and  I,  stopped  there 
after  a  visit  elsewhere.  I,  a  child,  did  not  ex- 
pect to  have  any  attention  paid  me,  but  Miss 
Lyon,  busy  entertaining  my  elders,  took  pains 
to  make  me  happy,  too.  She  saw  me  admiring 
a  vase  on  the  mantel  and  lifted  it  down  to  a 
table  where  I  could  see  it  better.  Then  she 
talked  pleasantly  with  me." 

But  of  all  the  visitors  she  loved  to  entertain, 
none  came  by  more  urgent  invitation  than 
the  babies.  The  busiest  Holyoke  days  yield 


344    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

glimpses  of  chubby  little  people  asleep  on  her 
couch  and  bed,  or  awake,  with  Miss  Lyon  "  run- 
ning to  get  them  this  and  that."  It  is  said  that 
one  year  she  used  often  to  borrow  a  certain 
three-year-old  for  his  nap. 

To  a  person  of  such  social  temper,  the  tasks 
that  so  filled  her  days  as  to  debar  her  from 
many  of  the  common  offices  of  friendship  must 
sometimes  have  proved  irksome.  "How  I 
should  love,  if  I  ever  did  such  a  thing,  to  write 
you  a  long  letter!"  she  cries.  Another  passage 
interprets  the  words.  "  When  I  have  a  business 
letter  to  write  and  know  that  I  need  not  add  a 
single  line  to  business  in  hand,  I  can  catch  a 
few  moments  and  sit  right  down  and  write  it. 
But  when  I  think  of  writing  a  letter  of  friend- 
ship, I  dislike  to  give  the  odds  and  ends  of  a 
tired-out  mind."  This  personal  correspond- 
ence reveals  a  depth  of  tenderness  that  does 
not  always  accompany  widespread  affiliations. 
While  the  capacity  for  friendship  that  Amanda 
White  had  noted  in  her  youth  led  her  at  each 
new  turn  of  life  into  fresh  and  ardent  associa- 
tions, sundering  circumstance  never  put  out 
the  old  fires.  Years  of  absence  might  bank  in- 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    345 

timacy ;  no  friend,  returning,  found  the  hearth- 
stone cold. 

The  relations  between  Miss  Lyon  and  her 
nieces  and  nephews  which  the  letters  discover 
are  particularly  charming.  On  their  familiar, 
newsy  pages  a  reader  catches  unpremeditated 
glimpses  of  her  boundless  generosities  of  heart 
and  purse.  How  she  managed  with  her  tiny 
salary,  —  she  refused  to  accept  more  than  two 
hundred  dollars  a  year  in  addition  to  living  ex- 
penses, —  and  with  all  her  public  gifts  and 
nameless  private  bounties,  to  ease  the  educa- 
tional way  of  so  many  of  her  ambitious  young 
kindred  remains  a  mystery.  For  though  she 
always  planned  her  loans  to  help  them  to  a 
place  where  they  might  help  themselves,  know- 
ing that  good  is  dearly  bought  at  the  price  of 
independence,  her  love  was  continually  prompt- 
ing some  thoughtful  gift.  Niece  after  niece  en- 
tered Mount  Holyoke  and  went  out  to  a  posi- 
tion that  her  aunt  had  secured  her;  even  the 
college  nephews  asked  help  in  getting  vacation 
schools.  She  delighted  to  gather  them  about 
her.  The  boy  whose  acquaintance  she  first 
made  on  the  western  trip  writes  to  say  that  he 


346    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

is  "pretty  much  settled  in  Old  Yale";  and  in 
the  spring  she  has  him  up  from  New  Haven 
and  a  second  nephew  over  from  Williams,  to 
meet  another  cousin  who  is  studying  at  East- 
hampton.  This  Williston  Seminary  student 
is  a  brother  of  the  niece  who  has  been  to  her 
aunt  "  a  daughter  indeed  and  even  more  than  a 
daughter."  "  He  tells  me  all  about  his  affairs," 
she  writes  Abigail  in  India,  "which  I  encour- 
age him  to  do.  ...  I  shall  continue  to  help 
him  along  a  little.  I  enjoy  watching  over  him 
a  little  very  much.  I  love  to  do  it  for  his  own 
sake,  I  love  to  do  it  for  his  mother's  sake,  and 
I  love  to  do  it  for  his  far-off  sister's  sake." 
Nephews- in-law  succumbed  to  her  spell,  and 
the  daily  letters  from  Lucy  Lyon  Lord  and  her 
husband  that  brightened  the  lonely  interval 
between  the  good-bye  at  Mount  Holyoke  and 
their  sailing  for  China  deepen  the  stress  of  feel- 
ing in  the  niece's  words,  "You  do  not  know 
how  like  a  mother  you  seem  to  us  both." 

In  1840  her  own  mother  had  died,  but  a  few 
weeks  after  the  youngest  sister.  The  following 
year  we  find  her  writing  of  a  great  desire  to  go 
up  into  the  hills  and  "  spend  a  little  while  with 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    347 

my  dear  aunt  and  enjoy  her  sweet  simple  hos- 
pitality. She  is  the  nearest  resemblance  left  to 
my  very  dear  mother,  and  as  the  spring  opens, 
when  I  used  to  watch  the  traveling  and  plan 
my  business  to  go  and  see  my  mother,  I  have 
a  strong  desire  to  visit  my  aunt." 

From  a  word  dropped  now  and  then  in  the 
free  intercourse  of  friendship,  it  would  appear 
that  for  years  the  feeling  had  sometimes  visited 
Miss  Lyon  that  she  was  not  destined  to  long 
life.  There  is  an  unsentimental  note  in  these 
simple  sentences ;  the  thought  did  not  color  her 
daily  temper  or  claim  from  her  any  particular 
attention.  She  never  doubted  immortality,  she 
had  made  life  too  well  worth  living  for  that; 
and  with  every  year  the  other  world  that  was 
so  vital  a  reality  to  her  faith  grew  a  more 
friendly  place.  "  I  have  asked  God  to  keep  me 
alive  just  so  long  as  I  can  do  something  for 
Him  which  no  one  else  can  do,"  she  remarked 
once.  On  her  fiftieth  birthday,  "  the  most  sol- 
emn day  of  her  life,"  she  turned,  as  she  said, 
her  face  toward  sunset.  "  I  felt  that  I  could  no 
longer  do  as  I  had  done,"  runs  a  fragment  of 
remembered  conversation.  "The  disposition 


348    THE   LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

was  not  wanting,  but  waning  health  forbade  the 
expectation.  ...  It  is  evening  with  me  now. 
...  I  gather  up  the  odds  and  ends  and  keep 
the  machine  in  motion.  I  need  rest  and  repose 
is  grateful.  I  have  laid  aside  my  armor  and 
...  it  has  become  natural  for  me  to  think  and 
speak  more  of  the  results  of  duties  discharged, 
of  actions  performed,  than  it  once  was.  I  have 
for  it  more  tune,  and  a  setting  sun,  you  know, 
always  invites  to  different  thoughts  and  inspires 
far  other  emotions  than  when  shining  upon  us 
with  his  morning  beams  or  throwing  down 
upon  us  his  meridian  splendors." 

We  must  not  take  the  words  too  literally,  or 
carry  their  import  too  far  into  her  life.  Mary 
Lyon  fell  in  harness.  For  two  years  after  that 
birthday  she  worked  with  scarcely  a  vacation, 
much  of  the  time  "maturing  changes"  in  the 
academic  and  domestic  organization  of  Mount 
Holyoke;  and  death  surprised  her  in  a  resur- 
gence of  health  that  had  seemed  to  both  herself 
and  her  friends  a  promise  of  longer  service. 
"  My  health  has  been  unusually  good  this  year," 
she  wrote  in  midwinter  of  the  twelfth  year  of 
her  administration,  dating  the  letter  at  Monson 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    349 

from  out  "an  old-fashioned  vacation  of  real 
rest  in  this  sweetest  of  all  resting  places." 

After  her  return  to  South  Hadley  a  case  of 
erysipelas  appeared  among  the  seniors.  At  first 
it  occasioned  no  uneasiness  in  the  minds  of 
doctor  or  authorities ;  but  without  warning  the 
malignant  symptoms  developed  which  a  few 
years  before  had  accompanied  fatal  epidemics 
in  many  parts  of  the  countiy.  Word  of  the  dis- 
ease, escaping  through  the  student  body,  threat- 
ened to  spread  panic.  At  once  Miss  Lyon  or- 
dered disinfectants  distributed  and  called  her 
girls  together.  Work, would  continue,  she  said, 
but  those  who  were  afraid  might  go  home.  Few, 
if  any,  went.  Her  quiet  courage  calmed  them. 
"  No  pen  can  describe  the  wonderful  sweetness 
and  beauty  of  her  chapel  talks  during  the  last 
week  she  was  with  us,"  writes  one  of  her  stu- 
dents. Tenderly,  heroically,  she  talked,  her 
words  lifted  on  a  tide  of  strong  emotion.  "  Shall 
we  fear  what  God  is  about  to  do  ?  There  is 
nothing  in  the  universe  that  I  fear,  but  that  I 
shall  not  know  all  my  duty  or  shall  fail  to  do  it." 
The  senior  died  with  her  father  and  Miss 
Lyon  beside  her,  and  following  immediately 


350    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

on  the  strain  of  those  sad,  exacting  days  and 
nights  news  came  to  Miss  Lyon  that  one  of  her 
nephews  had  terminated  an  attack  of  insanity 
by  committing  suicide.  She  was  already  suffer- 
ing from  a  cold  and  headache,  and  the  mental 
anguish  produced  by  the  shock  led  to  serious 
illness.  Her  physician  pronounced  the  case 
erysipelas  of  mild  and  non-malignant  type,  but 
from  the  first  he  was  fearful  of  a  fatal  outcome. 
The  disease  left  her  with  congestion  of  the  brain. 
"  I  should  love  to  come  back  to  watch  over  the 
seminary,"  those  who  were  with  her  heard  her 
say  in  a  moment  of  consciousness,  "but  God 
will  take  care  of  it."  On  the  fifth  of  March, 
1849,  after  a  short  sharp  illness,  measuring  little 
more  than  a  week,  she  died. 

Her  death  came  to  that  student  community, 
in  the  journal's  phrase,  "  like  the  blotting  of  the 
sun  out  of  the  heavens  at  midday."  News  of  it 
traveled  through  the  world,  and  to  people 
widely  different  in  condition  and  nationality 
brought  a  sense  of  loneliness  and  loss.  Some- 
thing vivid  had  gone  from  earth  and  left  it 
duller.  Men  and  women  who  had  worked  with 
her  gathered  again  in  South  Hadley,  now  to 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    351 

honor  in  heartfelt  sorrow  the  greatness  and 
lovableness  of  the  woman  whom  ex-president 
Humphrey  of  Amherst  College  called,  in  her 
funeral  sermon,  one  of  the  happiest  persons  he 
had  ever  known. 

They  buried  her  near  an  oak  south  of  the 
orchard,  and  there  through  the  growth  of  years 
Mount  Holyoke  has  held  her  in  its  heart,  close 
as  she  ever  liked  to  be  to  human  ways.  Women 
full  of  days  and  honor,  once  her  students,  bring 
flowers  to  that  quiet  grove-encircled  place ;  col- 
lege presidents  come  to  stand  for  a  moment  be- 
fore they  go  about  their  business;  the  warm, 
busy,  joyous  life  of  the  campus  flows  around 
it,  and  ever  pass  the  feet  of  girls  such  as  she 
loved. 

Death  tested  the  work  of  her  life  and  found 
it  good.  Despite  foreboding  prophecy  Mount 
Holyoke  endured  and  the  higher  education  of 
women  on  permanent  foundations  became  an 
established  fact.  Yet  she  died  not  without  sac- 
rifice. The  famous  Mrs.  Sigourney  wrote  Mrs. 
Porter:  "I  often  think  of  the  deep  interest  I 
felt  at  the  examinations  of  her  wonderful  insti- 
tution. ...  It  then  appeared  to  me  that  her 


352    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

system  could  never  be  perfectly  carried  out  by 
any  person  but  herself.  The  peculiar  features 
might,  indeed,  be  preserved  and  illustrated, 
but  the  mind  that  was  to  give  energy  and  per- 
vade and  quicken  every  one  within  the  sphere 
of  its  influence  would,  I  feared,  have  no  coun- 
terpart." 

Many  people  have  wondered  what  changes 
would  have  come  to  Mount  Holyoke  had  Miss 
Lyon  lived  the  ten  years  that  her  friends  be- 
lieved stretched  before  her  from  that  winter  of 
1849,  and  some  have  seen  South  Hadley  the 
seat  of  a  college  in  name  as  well  as  in  purpose 
and  function.  What  her  persuasive  speech 
would  indubitably  have  secured  sooner  came 
late.  Public  opinion,  crystallizing  about  the 
visible  expression  of  her  work,  sought  to  im- 
mortalize its  form  at  the  cost  of  its  spirit,  for- 
getting that  in  her  hands  form  had  always 
been  a  plastic  thing.  Against  this  barrier  her 
successors  continued  long  to  fling  themselves, 
gaining  an  inch  where  they  had  sought  an  ell. 
Yet  through  the  grudging  years  ceaselessly 
Mount  Holyoke  developed,  and  faster  than 
aliens  ever  knew.  Cramping  timidities  and 


THE   COST  OF  PIONEERING    353 

misapprehensions  could  not  turn  it  from  its 
goal,  for  the  woman  who  gave  it  life  had  so 
built  herself  into  its  constitution  that  it  could 
not  choose  but  change.  Its  growth  is  the  final 
triumph  of  her  conquering  vitality. 


CHAPTER  IX 

AS   HER   STUDENTS   KNEW   HER 

THIS  is  a  chapter  of  memories.  There  is  no 
mustiness  about  them,  they  were  not  laid  away 
remote  years  ago  with  rosemary  between  their 
leaves.  People  have  lived  with  them,  and  recol- 
lections keep  best  in  use.  It  was  nearly  half  a 
century  after  her  student  days  were  done  that 
a  woman  wrote,  "  [I  have]  never  passed  a  sin- 
gle week  since  leaving  the  seminary  without 
recalling  Miss  Lyon  and  her  teachings." 

The  pity  is  that  of  such  recollections  com- 
paratively few  have  been  preserved.  Her  stu- 
dents, like  their  teacher,  were  too  busy  living  to 
have  recourse  often  to  words  of  commemora- 
tion. And  many  who  might  have  told  much 
have  slipped  away  unquestioned.  Yet  still  we 
meet  old  ladies  who  through  seventy  years  have 
never  ceased  to  be  her  lovers.  There  is  no 
surer  way  to  make  one  of  them  happy  than  to 
ask  her  of  Mary  Lyon.  They  delight  to  talk 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    355 

about  her,  sitting  a  little  straighter  in  their 
chairs,  questioning  the  past  with  glad  remem- 
bering eyes. 

They  themselves  are  notable  women. 
Though  on  some  shoulders  old  age  has  laid  re- 
straining fingers,  others  carry  their  more  than 
four- score  years  with  the  agility  of  girls,  and 
they  are  all  alert  at  heart.  One  nearly  ninety 
helps  her  high-school  granddaughter  through 
knotty  passages  in  Virgil ;  another,  who  has 
but  recently  joined  their  greater  company,  be- 
gan the  study  of  Italian  after  her  seventieth 
birthday  and  grew  proficient  in  it ;  a  third  has 
laid  down  an  active  college  presidency  within 
the  year.  D  istinction  resides  in  their  thought  and 
speech,  and  about  them  clings  a  fine  aroma 
distilled  from  many  decades  of  brave  unselfish 
living.  Such  are  the  women  who  call  Miss 
Lyon  "wonderful."  How  they  love  her!  Yet 
with  what  reverence  they  speak  her  name! 
"No  memoir  or  history  can  do  her  justice.'* 
Across  scores  of  years  they  look  to  her  as  to  an 
event  in  their  lives,  the  biggest  thing  that  ever 
happened  to  them. 

Not  that  they  saw  her  then  as  they  have 


356    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

learned  to  see  her  since.  "We  were  too  small 
and  near  to  take  in  her  greatness."  Apprecia- 
tion grew  upon  them.  "A  perfect  character" 
is  the  tribute  of  one  who  has  classed  herself 
at  Mount  Holyoke  as  among  the  gayest  of 
thoughtless  girls.  And  character  her  students 
came,  with  Miss  Lyon,  to  rank  as  the  worthiest 
of  human  possessions.  Time  taught  them  as 
well  to  understand  what  she  had  given  them. 
Another  says  of  her  Holyoke  training,  "It 
helped  me  to  take  an  active  place  in  the  world's 
work,  whenever  opportunity  offered,  giving  me 
confidence,  hope,  and  zeal." 

I  cull  sentences  at  random  from  letters  bear- 
ing various  dates  within  the  last  thirty-five 
years.  "What  I  should  have  been  if  I  had 
never  seen  Miss  Lyon  passes  my  imagina- 
tion." "A  strength  seemed  imparted  to  me." 
"Through  all  the  more  than  forty  years  of  an 
extremely  busy  life  since  my  graduation  I  have 
been  sensible  of  Miss  Lyon's  personal  influ- 
ence abiding  with  me."  "Her  memory  has 
been  to  me  continually  an  inspiration  to  over- 
come difficulties."  "I  find  myself  even  now 
quoting  her  pithy  sayings  .  .  .  few  words,  but 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    357 

containing  the  essence  of  wisdom."  "From 
year  to  year,  ever  since  it  was  my  privilege  to 
know  Miss  Lyon,  my  admiration,  love,  and 
reverence  for  her  have  increased,  and  I  cannot 
think  there  has  been  a  woman  since  her  time 
who  was  her  equal." 

How  strikingly  her  person  persists  in  visual 
remembrance !  Nearly  every  old  lady  who  talks 
or  writes  confesses  to  having  a  very  vivid 
mental  picture  of  Miss  Lyon.  "  If  I  could  only 
make  you  see  her,  as  I  do!"  she  says.  Little 
more  than  a  decade  ago  a  woman  who  as  a  girl 
had  known  her  only  a  few  months  wrote,  "I 
remember  her  face  and  figure  as  well  as  though 
I  had  seen  her  within  five  years."  It  would 
seem  as  though,  once  known,  she  could  not  be 
forgotten,  so  little  power  have  the  mists  of 
more  than  half  a  century  to  dim  the  clear-cut 
impress  that  her  living  presence  made. 

Translated  into  words,  these  memories  differ 
as  widely  as  do  all  descriptions  by  many  people 
of  the  same  person.  She  was  of  medium  height, 
they  say,  muscular  and  well-rounded,  with  a 
large,  finely  formed  head  and  beautifully  mod- 
eled hands,  the  clear  ruddy  skin  that  accom- 


358    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

panics  auburn  hair,  eyes  brightly  blue  and  very 
expressive,  a  prominent  nose,  a  wide  mouth,  a 
friendly  smile,  and  a  rapid,  energetic,  often 
awkward  walk.  Her  hair  had  "  a  natural  wavy 
toss  and  curl  hard  to  manage  in  the  prim 
smooth  style  then  in  vogue,  so  little  strands 
of  it  would  fly  out"  and  flutter  with  the  cap- 
strings,  which  were  never  tied.  Beautiful  hair 
she  had  and  beautiful  eyes,  but  recollection 
sighs  over  the  caps.  It  was  then  the  fashion  for 
women  past  youth  to  wear  something  on  their 
heads  indoors.  She  put  on  the  turban  after  a 
fever  at  Ipswich,  and  from  force  of  habit  con- 
tinued to  wear  it  until  the  first  Holyoke  year, 
when  her  girls,  knowing  that  turbans  had  gone 
out  and  caps  come  in,  clubbed  together  and 
commissioned  Mrs.  Safford  to  shop  for  them 
in  Boston.  "  We  wanted  her  to  be  in  the  fash- 
ion," one  remarks  in  telling  this  episode  and 
describing  the  "pretty  and  becoming  puffs 
of  smooth  dark  chestnut  hair"  on  which  the 
turban  rested.  Miss  Lyon  said,  "I  thought  I 
should  always  arrange  my  hair  this  way  and 
always  wear  a  turban,  but  I  will  do  almost  any- 
thing to  please  my  daughters."  She  was  not 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    359 

particular  about  her  clothes  beyond  securing 
serviceableness  and  good  taste  in  cut  and  make, 
and  she  liked  to  think  so  intensely  while  dress- 
ing that  she  always  wanted  some  one  to  look  her 
over  afterwards  and  see  that  all  was  right. 

Departing  from  the  path  of  specific  descrip- 
tion, some  call  her  plain ;  others  remember  her 
as  "decidedly  attractive,  not  beautiful,  but 
good  to  look  upon"  ;  still  others  agree  with  the 
one  who  says  that  at  anniversary,  "  her  auburn 
hair  done  high  on  her  head,  with  a  scarf  of  lace 
and  blue  ribbons,  the  natural  excitement  of  the 
occasion  brought  the  pink  color  to  her  cheeks, 
making  her  the  most  beautiful  woman  we  ever 
saw."  Perhaps  the  truth  lurks  in  the  sentence, 
"She  fascinated  from  my  first  acquaintance, 
and  I  saw  no  fault  in  her."  Her  charm  per- 
tained probably  more  to  look  than  line ;  she  had 
a  "wonderfully  expressive  face."  When  she 
talked  or  listened,  it  grew  "radiantly  beauti- 
ful"; when  she  was  buried  in  oblivious  thought, 
it  became  non-committal,  at  times  almost  like 
a  mask  of  vacancy.  "Her  face  to  me  was  al- 
ways like  sunshine,"  one  writes.  And  some 
recollect  meeting  her  on  the  stairs  of  a  morn- 


360    THE  LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

ing  just  before  service,  as  she  was  coming 
from  her  preparation,  with  such  a  light  upon 
it  that  they  could  think  only  of  the  face  of 
Moses  who  wist  not  that  it  shone. 

Her  pictures  satisfy  none  of  them.  They 
miss  this  mobility.  "Not  one  but  is  a  painful 
caricature,"  they  say.  "All  lack  expression." 
"A  good  picture  of  her  could  never  have  been 
taken,  for  it  would  have  been  impossible  to 
catch  the  vivacity  of  her  face."  "There  is  no 
true  portrait  of  her  and  I  fear  there  never  can 
be  one.  It  would  be  difficult  for  an  artist  to 
paint  that  speaking,  glowing,  tender,  wonder- 
ful face  with  the  living  subject  before  him; 
how  can  it  be  done  by  description  or  imagina- 
tion?" 

She  was  not  to  be  induced  to  take  time 
enough  to  sit  for  her  portrait  during  the  Holyoke 
years,  and  the  only  pictures  that  remain  of  her 
at  this  period  are  a  dim  daguerreotype  or  two  and 
certain  large  paintings  and  crayons  which  were 
made  after  her  death.  The  source  of  the  turban 
pictures  is  a  bit  of  ivory  painted  at  Ipswich, 
when  she  and  Miss  Grant  exchanged  minia- 
tures. The  other  picture  shown  in  this  book  is 


MARY  LYON   AT  FORTY-EIGHT 

(From  a  daguerreotype) 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    361 

reproduced  from  a  daguerreotype  for  which 
she  sat  in  Boston  four  years  before  her  death, 
as  a  final  gift  to  a  young  missionary  whom  she 
was  seeing  off  to  Ceylon,  and  which  that  mis- 
sionary's daughter  recently  brought  back  to 
this  country.  At  the  tune,  we  are  told,  she  was 
excessively  weary  and  not  well,  and  the  pain  of 
parting  threw  its  shadow  on  her  face. 

A  delicate  bit  of  interpretation  penned  three 
years  ago  in  a  private  letter  finds  its  way  to 
these  pages.  "  Perhaps  I  idealize  her  more  and 
more  as  the  years  go  on,  but  I  like  the  picture 
of  her  in  her  turban  —  though  I  never  saw  her 
wear  a  turban  —  best  of  all  the  pictures  I  have 
seen.  ...  It  seems  to  me  such  a  sweet,  re- 
fined, earnest,  innocent  soul  looking  out  of  that 
quiet  thoughtful  face.  The  later  pictures,  or 
the  other  pictures,  look  as  though  she  had  bat- 
tled with  the  world  —  more  determined  to  over- 
come, more  defiant  of  obstacles.  I  can  hardly 
explain  what  I  mean.  You  know  I  was  there 
only  two  years,  and  I  did  not  often  get  very 
near  her.  I  never  felt  personally  acquainted 
with  her  and  I  saw  her  only  once  after  I  gradu- 
ated. But  I  think  of  her  as  a  beautiful  soul,  and 


362    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

perhaps  that  is  the  reason  why  I  like  the  most 
spiritual,  innocent  face  better  than  those  which 
express  the  conflict  and  stress  of  her  great  un- 
dertaking." 

She  was  "  full  of  affectionate  ways."  ;<  Your 
precious  letter  and  sweet  little  present  came  to 
me"  ;  so  begins  a  letter  to  a  young  alumna,  the 
invitation  to  whose  wedding  she  accepted  with 
the  words,  "  I  have  a  strong  desire  to  afford  my- 
self the  pleasure  of  attending  that  important 
event."  But  she  did  not  get  away,  after  all :  she 
was  too  busy.  Another  remembers  that  in  con- 
nection with  something  Miss  Lyon  was  saying 
in  one  of  her  talks,  "  her  eyes  rested  on  me  with 
a  beaming  look  that  went  through  my  heart.  I 
thought  then  that,  were  I  in  Heaven  and  she 
should  look  at  me  so,  I  could  ask  for  nothing 
more,  which  perhaps  shows  how  very  youthful 
I  was.  It  is  so  I  love  to  remember  her,  with  that 
look,  —  she  often  had  it,  —  a  look  of  all-embrac- 
ing love.  I  see  it  now,  though  I  did  not  under- 
stand it  then.  Others  may  speak  of  her  reli- 
gious nature  :  that  is  too  sacred  forme,  though  I 
felt  the  power  of  it  as  much  as  any.  Hers  was  a 
great  human  heart,  many-sided.  I  remember 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    363 

after  one  of  her  visits  to  Boston,  perhaps  to  see 
a  missionary  off,  she  spoke  of  having  been  to 
see  a  great  picture  there  and  how  she  sat  before 
it,  feeling  its  beauty  and  power." 

Motherly  is  the  adjective  used  most  fre- 
quently in  these  personal  recollections.  "  I  feel 
that  I  am  again  an  orphan,"  at  her  death  wrote 
a  student  who  had  married  in  Northampton. 
"  Since  we  have  been  here  and  seen  Miss  Lyon 
so  often,  I  have  loved  her  more  and  more,  and 
have  called  her  mother,  and  she  has  treated  me 
with  all  the  affectionate  tenderness  of  a  mother." 

Simple,  unaffected  genuineness  pertained  to 
everything  she  said  or  did.  "I  remember  my 
father  accompanied  me  to  the  seminary  as  I 
had  never  been  any  great  distance  from  home. 
As  we  sat  waiting  in  the  parlor  we  heard  a  quick 
step  in  the  hall,  the  door  opened,  and  Miss 
Lyon  came  forward  with  such  hearty  cordiality 
and  genuine  welcome  that  my  father  felt  per- 
fectly safe  to  entrust  me  to  her  care."  "It  made 
a  deep  impression  on  me  that  such  a  busy  wo- 
man as  Miss  Lyon  should  stop  to  comfort  a 
lonely  homesick  girl."  "Miss  Lyon's  personal- 
ity was  much  to  me.  I  shall  never  lose  the  im- 


364    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

pression,  nay  I  almost  feel  even  now  the  imprint, 
of  the  kiss  with  which  Miss  Lyon  received  meat 
the  seminary  ...  I  thought  then  the  kiss  was 
lovely.  I  seem  now  to  feel  it,  a  holy  thing." 
Another  adds,  "  I  always  felt  I  could  go  to  her 
as  I  would  to  my  mother,  and  though  I  had  a 
great  reverence  for  her,  I  never  had  the  hesita- 
tion in  approaching  her  which  some  girls  had." 
Those  who  did  thus  go  found  her  of  a  sweet 
reasonableness  and  always  open  to  suggestions. 
She  herself  was  frank  and  she  liked  others  to  be. 

They  all  learned  to  trust  her  justice  as  fully 
as  her  love,  and  both  were  argus-eyed.  "  It  was 
characteristic  of  Miss  Lyon  to  treat  her  schol- 
ars as  ladies  who  were  worthy  of  deference 
and  whose  opinions  she  respected.  This  char- 
acteristic of  looking  at  the  good  in  her  girls  did 
much  to  cultivate  it.  A  misdemeanor  took 
her  by  surprise."  "Those  summoned  to  her 
presence  for  reproof  left  her  with  new  impulse 
of  affection."  Another  put  away  "  those  words 
of  reproof"  among  her  "  dearest  memories." 

"  In  one  unfortunate  case  of  theft  ...  I  re- 
member how  much  I  was  impressed  with  her 
love  and  sympathy,  and  yet  the  justice  she 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    365 

manifested  towards  the  unfortunate  one.  How 
thoroughly  she  impressed  it  upon  us  that  we 
should  care  for  our  money  and  valuables  so  as 
to  place  no  temptation  in  the  way  of  others,  and 
never  speak  unnecessarily  of  the  incident.  Her 
whole  method  in  the  treatment  of  the  case  has 
influenced  me  all  my  life." 

It  was  her  sense  of  fairness  that  caused  the 
semiannual  shake-up  in  rooms,  and  the  plan 
of  cooperative  housework  offered  wide  chance 
for  its  discovery.  Students  doing  the  heavier 
kinds  of  work  were  scheduled  for  fewer  min- 
utes. A  girl,  uncomplainingly  finishing  a  task 
that  her  circle  had  left  undone  when  their  time 
was  up,  welcomed  the  gentle  peremptoriness 
with  which  Miss  Lyon  sent  her  away :  "  Don't 
do  them  all,  I  will  send  some  one  else  down. 
This  is  more  than  your  share."  Typical  of  her 
care  for  their  health  is  the  story  another  tells. 
She  was  not  a  robust  girl,  and  she  looked  still 
more  delicate.  Miss  Lyon  found  her  one  day 
ironing  table-cloths.  For  a  minute  or  two  she 
watched,  and  then  said  in  her  quick  decisive 
fashion,  "You  are  not  strong  enough  for  that 
work,  you  must  have  something  lighter." 


366    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

It  is  a  magic  way  with  girls  to  which  these 
letters  testify.  "Her  methods  were  the  most 
perfect  exemplification  of  *  Decrees  and  Free 
Moral  Agency'  of  anything  this  earth  affords. 
She  moulded  the  strongest  will  without  any 
friction."  "  Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  thing 
about  Miss  Lyon  was  a  certain  power  she  pos- 
sessed of  bringing  her  scholars  to  believe,  to 
feel,  and  to  do  as  she  desired.  I  could  never 
quite  analyze  this  power.  She  was  a  graceful 
and  eloquent  speaker,  but  she  made  no  attempt 
at  oratory,  and  we  were  not  conscious  of  any 
magnetic  spell.  It  did  not  seem  to  be  argument 
or  logic,  though,  beginning  afar  off  on  the  out- 
ward periphery  of  her  subject,  she  obtained  the 
assent  of  the  intellect  before  she  made  any  ap- 
peal to  the  heart." 

She  knew  them  as  they  never  dreamed  she 
could.  One  relates  how  Miss  Lyon  spoke  to  her 
about  a  fault  of  which,  though  conscious  her- 
self, she  had  supposed  all  others  ignorant.  She 
had  a  mysterious  gift  of  divining  aptitudes  for 
special  household  tasks,  and  she  could  make 
the  hardest  work  popular  with  the  senior  class, 
—  "my  cherished  young  ladies,"  as  she  called 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    367 

them.  "  A  fourth  story  back  room  (in  the  room- 
arranging  time)  looking  out  upon  the  clothes- 
lines, became  after  a  few  words  from  her  the 
very  one  that  you  wanted  to  take."  With  her 
adroitness  at  changing  the  current  of  personal 
wishes  went  also  an  inspiriting  stimulus  to  self- 
confidence.  "  She  makes  a  girl  feel  assured  of 
her  ability  to  do  whatever  is  laid  upon  her,"  a 
woman  wrote,  looking  back  upon  those  distant 
years. 

Her  speech  was  the  more  effective  because 
she  never  used  words  when  an  action  would  do 
instead.  Deeds  in  her  hands  served  the  same 
meaning  purpose  as  stories  in  the  mouth  of 
Lincoln,  and  like  him  she  never  broke  their 
force  by  making  the  application.  Entertaining 
anecdotes  are  told  to  show  the  masterly  skill 
with  which  Miss  Lyon  wielded  this  kind  of  sug- 
gestion. One  deals  with  incipient  graft.  A  clever 
pie-circle  conceived  the  satisfying  idea  of  les- 
sening the  amount  put  into  each  pie  an  unno- 
ticeable  degree  so  as  to  provide  an  extra  one  for 
their  own  eating.  Nobody,  so  far  as  they  knew, 
was  aware  of  the  expedient,  until  one  day  each 
girl  on  the  circle  received  an  invitation  to  come 


to  Miss  Lyon's  room.  Presenting  themselves  in 
her  parlor  at  the  appointed  hour,  they  found  on 
the  table  a  thick  luscious  pumpkin  pie,  which 
their  hostess  cordially  served  to  her  enlight- 
ened and  shame-faced  guests. 

These  are  simple  artless  records  of  homely 
doings  and  they  are  necessarily  detached  and 
fragmentary.  They  make  no  new  points  and 
adduce  no  unfamiliar  qualities.  We  know  Miss 
Lyon  as  a  very  busy  woman,  but  can  anything 
convey  that  impression  so  concretely  as  this 
sentence  ?  "  I  remember  seeing  her  once  in  the 
domestic  hall  whither  she  had  fled  at  the  sound 
of  some  need,  trailing  a  long  piece  of  dress- 
lining  pinned  to  her  back,  having  escaped  from 
the  hands  of  the  dressmaker,  who  in  her  room 
was  holding  the  scissors  ready  for  another  clip 
at  the  next  chance."  Her  hardihood  speaks  in 
the  rumored  answer  made  to  Mr.  Hawks  one 
cold  evening,  when  he  was  trying  to  persuade 
her  not  to  go  out  with  him  on  Mount  Holyoke's 
business:  "If  you  can  drive,  I  can  ride."  Her 
wit  retorts  in  the  anecdote,  possibly  apocry- 
phal, which  tells  how  Miss  Lyon  and  Mr. 
Hawks  disagreed  on  a  certain  matter.  "I  am 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    369 

the  head  of  this  institution,"  said  the  presi- 
dent of  the  trustees.  "Then  I  am  the  neck," 
she  rejoined. 

Nor  can  the  deep  satisfaction  of  her  pre- 
sence and  the  persistence  and  delight  of  her 
memory  be  more  graphically  pictured  than  by 
two  passages  from  the  pen  of  a  member  of 
the  class  of  1838,  who  returned  the  following 
year  as  a  teacher.  Between  them  lies  an  inter- 
val of  fifty-seven  years.  "  I  am  reminded  more 
than  ever  as  the  year  comes  round,  how  much 
time  I  spent  in  her  room  last  spring  and  sum- 
mer, how  kindly  she  listened  to  all  my  diffi- 
culties, how  patiently  she  would  help  me  out 
of  them  and  how  light  she  would  make  every- 
thing seem.  .  .  .  How  many  times  of  late 
when  the  way  has  looked  dark  .  .  .  have  I 
wished  that  I  could  go  to  Miss  Lyon,  that  I 
could  make  her  my  confessor,  as  I  used  to  do." 
At  the  end  of  the  century  a  new  picture  of  the 
first  building  revived  so  clearly  memories  of 
old  rooms  and  associations  that  she  wrote  the 
donor:  "I  have  hardly  had  them  out  of  my 
waking  or  dreaming  thoughts  since  your  letter 
came.  I  have  even  wakened  in  the  morning 


with  the  feeling  that  I  had  been  with  dear  Miss 
Lyon  all  night." 

Of  the  women  who  write  the  rest  of  this  chap- 
ter a  few  were  teachers  as  well  as  students  at 
Mount  Holyoke.  The  paragraphs,  representa- 
tive of  a  mass  of  similar  material,  are  here  and 
there  drawn  from  earlier  letters,  but  most  of 
them  must  be  dated  within  the  new  century. 
If  the  reader  will  but  fancy  himself  in  the 
company  of  a  charming  old  lady,  delicately 
silvery  as  a  bit  of  thistledown;  will  watch  the 
smile  that  lights  her  face  to  beauty  more  signi- 
ficant than  that  of  youth ;  will  listen  to  the  pride 
and  love  hi  her  grave  sweet  voice,  and  will  not 
fail  to  catch  at  times  the  twinkle  in  her  eye, 
these  fragments  of  talks  and  letters  may  yield 
him  some  freshness  of  insight  that  more  con- 
nected chapters  cannot  give. 

I  remember  her  with  wonderful  distinctness 
-  as  who,  indeed,  that  ever  came  in  contact 
with  her  magnetic  personality  could  fail  to  do ! 
I  call  to  mind  as  vividly  as  if  it  were  yesterday 
my  first  glimpse  of  her.  A  frightened,  homesick 
girl,  at  the  end  of  a  thirty-six  hours'  journey 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    371 

mostly  by  stage-coach,  ended  by  a  novel  ferry 
experience  in  the  dark  of  a  September  even- 
ing, I  arrived  at  the  seminary  chilled  and  tired 
to  the  last  degree.  As  the  white  pillars  gleamed 
in  the  moonlight  it  seemed  like  a  wonderful 
palace.  Miss  Whitman  received  us,  tall  and 
cold  and  benign,  and  took  us  across  echoing 
floors  to  the  little  south  reception  room,  con- 
taining the  least  possible  amount  of  furniture. 
Miss  Lyon  presently  came  bustling  in,  gathered 
me  in  her  motherly  arms  and  kissed  my  tear- 
wet  face,  saying,  "  As  soon  as  you  have  some- 
thing to  eat  and  a  good  night's  sleep  you  will 
feel  better,  my  dear." 

The  next  morning  she  was  smiling  in  her  place 
at  the  breakfast  table  and  spoke  cheery  words 
to  the  solemn  little  group  of  homesick  girls  as- 
sembled there.  Knowing  what  a  boon  employ- 
ment would  be,  —  and  truth  to  say  we  were 
sorely  needed  as  an  advance-guard  to  help 
settle  things  for  the  fast-coming  students,  — we 
were  all  allotted  certain  tasks.  Mine  was  to 
sweep  the  big  floors  in  what  was  then  called 
"the  wooden  building,"  at  that  time  connect- 
ing the  south  wing  of  the  large  brick  structure 


372    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

with  the  "wood  rooms,"  each  of  the  students' 
rooms  having  a  numbered  compartment  for 
storing  wood.  Miss  Lyon  was  ubiquitous  and 
seemed  to  overlook  everything.  It  was  simply 
marvelous,  the  way  in  which  she  kept  every  de- 
tail in  mind,  and  planned  and  arranged  for  a 
family  of  nearly  three  hundred. 

But  it  was  in  morning  exercises  in  the  semi- 
nary hall  that  she  impressed  us  most.  Those 
who  listened  to  her  earnest  words  and  saw  her 
dear  face  all  alight  with  feeling  can  never  for- 
get it,  and  no  one  can  reproduce  the  one  or  the 
other.  Her  large  blue  eyes  looked  down  upon 
us  as  if  she  held  us  all  in  her  heart.  Sometimes 
her  voice  was  solemn,  sometimes  caressing,  at 
others  almost  playful.  There  was  a  vein  of 
humor  in  her  make-up  that,  notwithstanding 
she  habitually  dealt  with  the  serious  questions 
of  life,  was  simply  irrepressible,  and  it  was  de- 
lightful to  see  and  hear  her  when  that  came  up- 
permost, as  it  would  do  sometimes  in  the  most 
unexpected  manner.  But  she  always  resumed 
her  dignity  in  the  most  graceful  way  imaginable, 
with  a  half-apologetic  look  that  was  altogether 
charming. 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    373 

While  loving  and  tender  when  we  were  ill  or 
in  trouble,  how  stern  and  yet  how  merciful  was 
she  in  dealing  with  our  shortcomings !  It  was 
my  good  and  bad  fortune  to  be  summoned  sev- 
eral times  to  her  room  to  answer  for  unusual 
misdemeanors  in  the  first  months  of  my  stay 
at  the  seminary.  My  faults  were  the  more  hei- 
nous as  I  had  "entered  in  advance,"  and  was 
expecting  to  complete  the  course  in  two  years ; 
and  what  she  termed  the  "immaturity"  of  my 
character  was  a  great  trial  to  her.  The  tears  I 
shed  in  her  little  parlor  were  of  genuine  contri- 
tion and  humiliation.  She  was  so  lovely  and 
kind,  and  at  the  same  time  so  inexorable,  that 
I  felt  I  just  had  to  do  as  she  wished  me  to !  It 
was  hard  to  conform  to  the  very  strait  rules,  for 
I  was  young  and  full  of  all  manner  of  irrepres- 
sible frolic.  She  was  sagacious  enough  to  recog- 
nize that  she  could  not  change  temperament, 
but  she  could  and  did  so  win  and  control  my 
affection  and  impulses  that  the  effort  to  do 
right  became  a  pleasure. 

Dear  Miss  Lyon !  I  said  good-bye  to  her  in 
the  little  spaceway  back  of  the  seminary  hall 
near  the  door  of  the  reading-room.  How  vividly 


374    THE  LIFE  OF   MARY  LYON 

I  recall  it  after  fifty  years !  "  On  the  whole," 
was  a  favorite  expression  of  hers  in  summing 
up  a  line  of  argument.  I  said,  "  Good-bye,  dear 
Miss  Lyon.  Have  n't  I  been  'on  the  whole'  a 
pretty  good  girl  these  two  years  ?  "  '  Yes,  yes, 
my  dear,  as  good  as  you  could  be  perhaps,  but 
you  must  grow  better  and  better  every  year  of 
your  life." 

Then  she  kissed  me  good-bye,  and  I  saw  her 
no  more. 

I  was  not  so  much  impressed  by  her  dignity 
as  by  her  warm  loving  heart,  and  I  was  very 
fond  of  her.  I  remember  her  sitting  by  me  and 
holding  my  hand  when  I  was  very  homesick, 
and  saying  to  me,  "I'm  sorry  you  are  so  home- 
sick. Don't  you  remember  how  anxious  you 
were  to  come,  and  that  I  took  you  in  when  there 
really  was  not  room  for  one  more  ?  " 

"  I  know  it,  Miss  Lyon,"  I  said,  "  and  I  never 
shall  forgive  you  for  doing  it." 

I  have  forgotten  just  how  she  answered  the 
impertinent  speech,  but  I  remember  it  was  any- 
thing but  severe. 

As  I  passed  out  of  her  room  one  day  after  a 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    375 

nice  little  talk  with  her,  my  section  teacher  also 
being  in  the  room,  I  overheard  the  latter  say, 
:<  You  are  spoiling  that  girl,  you  indulge  her  so 
much.  If  I  or  the  other  teachers  refuse  her  any- 
thing, she  goes  to  you  and  she  gets  it." 

"Well,"  said  Miss  Lyon,  "she  is  young  and 
far  from  her  mother,  and  I  am  sorry  for  her, 
and  I  don't  believe  it  will  hurt  her." 

I  have  always  rejoiced  that  Mount  Holyoke 
was  chosen  as  the  home  of  my  school  life,  and 
this  was  owing  to  Miss  Lyoii's  own  attractive 
personality.  An  uncle,  who  was  the  guardian 
of  myself  and  two  older  sisters,  met  her  when 
she  was  using  every  possible  means  to  gain  the 
money  for  a  beginning  of  her  life-work,  and  he 
was  so  impressed  with  her  manner,  her  earnest- 
ness, and  her  sure  prophecy  of  success,  that  he 
immediately  made  application  for  admittance 
for  his  three  small  nieces  to  the  seminary,  as 
soon  as  each  should  reach  the  required  age. 

Miss  Lyon  had  a  remarkable  mind.  There 
were  no  little  things  about  her.  Great  things 
were  always  before  her.  That  was  why  she  ac- 


complished  so  much  for  the  girls  of  New  Eng- 
land, why  her  influence  is  so  world-wide,  why 
so  many  "around  the  throne  of  God  in  Hea- 
ven" will  say,  "It  is  through  Mary  Lyon's  in- 
fluence that  I  have  come  from  Africa,  from 
India,  from  the  islands  of  the  sea." 

She  looked  forward  to  the  time  when  the 
courses  of  study  for  young  women  and  young 
men  should  coincide.  She  used  to  say  she  re- 
gretted very  much  that  the  state  of  public 
opinion  would  not  allow  her  to  make  Latin  and 
Greek  a  required  part  of  the  course l ;  that  with 
mathematics  only,  the  seminary  had  but  one 
foot  to  stand  upon.2  She  was  greatly  delighted 

1  The  writer  graduated  in  1845. 

2  The  allusion  seems  to  be  to  the  contemporary  college 
practice  of  laying  chief  stress  on  mathematics  and  the  classics. 
When  Mount  Holyoke  opened  the  requirements  for  entrance 
to  the  principal  American  colleges  were  "  a  good  knowledge 
of    English   grammar,  arithmetic,  some  acquaintance  with 
geography,  an  ability  to  read  the  easier  Latin  authors,  and 
some  progress  in   the  study  of  Greek.  .  .  .  The  course   of 
instruction  .  .  .  embraces  a  further  study  of  the  Latin  and 
Greek  languages,  mathematics,  natural  philosophy,  rhetoric, 
and  practice  in  English  composition,  moral  and  intellectual 
philosophy,  and  some  treatise  of  natural  law  and  the  law  of 
nations."    Encyclopedia  Americana,  vol.  iii,  p.  318  (1836). 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    377 

when  a  student  came  who  had  already  studied 
one  or  both  of  the  dead  languages. 

I  have  often  attempted  to  analyze  the  secret 
of  Miss  Lyon's  influence  over  her  scholars. 
She  had  great  mental  resources.  No  one  could 
resist  the  impression  that  these  were  deeper  and 
richer  than  we  had  yet  fathomed.  But  the  sense 
of  her  reserved  power  was  not  the  key.  One  ele- 
ment was  her  deep  interest  in  her  pupils.  She 
was  not  particularly  demonstrative  in  her  man- 
ifestation of  affection ;  but  as  her  beaming  face 
looked  down  upon  us,  as  those  speaking  eyes 
met  ours,  every  one  of  us  felt  that  she  sought  our 
best,  our  highest  good,  —  and  more  than  this, 
that  she  loved  us  after  the  manner  of  our 
mothers.  .  .  .  Another  element  was  the  hon- 
esty and  intensity  of  her  convictions.  .  .  .  Still 
another  was  her  utter  self-unconsciousness. 
She  so  spoke  to  us  that  her  great  thoughts  stood 
foremost.  She  was  in  the  background.  Her 
scholars  sat  in  those  seats  before  her  and  were 
permanently  changed  in  habits  and  character. 
She  was  a  mighty  moral  architect. 

At  one  time  she  started  off  with  a  short  talk 


378    THE   LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

on  comparative  anatomy.  The  scientist  in  ex- 
huming animal  remains  may  find  but  one  bone 
or  one  tooth,  but  from  that  alone  he  forms  the 
entire  animal  and  tells  us  whether  it  ate  grass 
or  flesh,  whether  it  was  gentle  or  ferocious.  So 
little  things  indicate  character.  Knowing  one 
trait  of  a  person,  whether  he  does  or  fails  to  do 
some  little  thing,  the  whole  individual  is  re- 
vealed. You  need  know  no  more.  If  Domi- 
tian  would  amuse  himself  by  catching  flies  and 
piercing  them  through  with  a  bodkin,  it  was  to 
be  expected  that  he  would  kill  Christians.  The 
great  principle  was  developed  in  a  masterly 
way.  It  was  so  far  a  magnificent  lecture  by  it- 
self ;  but  the  initiated  knew  there  was  "  some- 
thing coming,"  that  the  argumentum  ad  homi- 
nem  would  soon  be  apparent.  It  came  at  length. 
The  descent  was  easy,  but  by  no  means  ridicu- 
lous, —  in  fact  it  was  solemn.  It  seemed  that, 
much  to  Miss  Lyon's  satisfaction,  the  ironing- 
room  had  been  nicely  refitted.  The  coverings 
were  white  and  dainty.  But  upon  its  inaugural 
day  these  were  badly  discolored,  some  showed 
the  imprint  of  the  iron,  while  a  few  had  been 
burned  through.  We  do  not  think  Miss  Lyon 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    379 

cared  so  much  for  the  spoiling  of  the  goods. 
She  took  that  joyfully.  But  it  did  pain  her  that 
any  of  her  dear  family  should  evince  a  care- 
lessness akin  to  recklessness.  It  was  the  moral 
tarnish  she  feared.  It  might  be  a  straw,  but  it 
showed  the  way  of  the  wind. 

Miss  Lyon  herself  is  the  one  figure  which 
rises  before  me  whenever  I  think  of  the  semi- 
nary, —  a  grand  woman,  far  in  advance  of  her 
time.  The  one  study  I  had  under  her  was  But- 
ler's "Analogy."  She  proved  herself  a  wonder- 
ful instructor.  My  only  wish  was  that  she  could 
have  taught  us  everything  we  attempted  to 
learn. 

She  used  to  say,  "  Commence  your  topic  with 
a  brief  sentence.  Let  none  of  your  periods  be 
long.  Avoid  the  use  of  the  copulative  conjunc- 
tion '  and. '  State  your  ideas  and  facts  clearly 
and  consecutively,  not  in  the  words  of  the  book, 
but  in  your  own  best  English.  Aim  to  speak 
smoothly,  not  with  hitches  and  jerks.  Stop 
when  you  have  done." 


380    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

It  was  on  one  of  the  longest  days  of  summer 
that  E—  -  came  to  my  room  in  trouble  and 
tears.  To  my  query,  "What  is  it?"  she  gave 
me  answer,  "They  are  going  to  send  me  home 
to-morrow,  and  I  don't  want  to  go.  It  is  be- 
cause I  have  headaches.  I  suppose  they  are 
afraid  I  shall  get  sick,  but  it  is  the  heat  that  af- 
fects me  so.  Ever  so  many  teased  me  before  I 
came,  saying  that  I  would  soon  be  sent  home 
in  disgrace,  and  now  they  will  say,  *I  told  you 
so,'  and  /  can't  bear  it." 

I  condoled  with  her  and  declared  that  she 
should  not  go  if  I  could  do  anything  to  prevent 
it.  I  knew  it  would  be  useless  to  appeal  to  the 
teacher  who  had  charge  of  the  health  of  the 
young  ladies,  for  her  decisions  were  like  the 
laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians.  I  went 
straight  to  Miss  Lyon's  room.  "Miss  Lyon," 

I  said,  "  they  are  going  to  send  E home, 

and  she  does  not  wish  to  go,  and  I  do  not  wish 
to  have  her  go.  I  came  to  ask  you  to  say  that 
she  need  not  go  till  the  end  of  the  term." 

Miss  Lyon  replied,  "  She  has  had  headache 
so  much  that  we  have  thought  it  would  be  well 
for  her  to  go  home  and  recruit  before  the  exam- 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    381 

inations  come  on.  She  can  come  back  in  time 
for  them." 

I  argued  further,  with  genuine  altruism: 
"  But,  Miss  Lyon,  there  is  a  reason  why  I  ask  it. 
We  were  told  before  we  came,  that  you  would 
not  keep  such  wild  girls  long ;  if  she  goes  now 
it  will  be  said  that  she  has  been  suspended ;  and 
/ — don't — want  —  her — to — go." 

At  this  climax  my  tears  began  to  flow.  Miss 
Lyon  laid  her  hand  kindly  on  my  shoulder  and 
said,  "Do  not  feel  troubled.  We  will  try  to  do 
what  seems  best.  This  is  just  what  you  want, 
is  it  not  ?"  The  broad,  genial  smile  and  air  of 
trust  with  which  she  asked  the  question  would 
have  disarmed  the  most  willful.  If  she  per- 
ceived an  element  of  the  ludicrous  in  what  to  us 
was  so  serious,  she  did  not  betray  it.  She  dis- 
missed me  without  a  definite  answer,  yet  I  was 
sure  she  comprehended  and  was  sympathetic. 

Nothing  more  was  said  to  E about  going 

home.  Perhaps  she  took  an  ounce  of  preven- 
tion, or  a  mind-cure  was  wrought,  for  her  head- 
aches vanished. 

This  is  one  of  many  instances  of  Miss  Lyon's 
motherly  instinct  or  inclination  to  gratify  her 


382    THE   LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

daughters  —  so  she  liked  to  call  us  —  in  any 
reasonable  request. 

There  were  times,  however,  when  some  of 
these  daughters  were  dissatisfied  with  her  rul- 
ings. One  morning  the  early  birds  discovered 
bills  posted  about  town  announcing  a  vocal 
concert  by  the  Hutchinson  Family,  to  be  given 
that  evening  in  the  meeting-house.  A  number 
of  the  students  wished  to  attend.  Great  was 
their  surprise  and  indignation  when  permission 
was  withheld.  Miss  Lyon  told  us  that  present 
arrangements  would  not  admit  of  our  sparing 
the  time  for  an  evening  entertainment,  and  re- 
quested us  to  bear  in  mind  the  principle  that 
one  should  not  ask  a  favor  for  herself  which 
could  not  be  granted  to  all.  Poor  Jane  W— 
was  the  chief  mourner  and  considered  herself 
a  martyr.  The  Hutchinsons  were  friends  of  her 
family,  and  on  that  account  had  sent  her  a  com- 
plimentary ticket  which  she  thought  it  very  im- 
polite not  to  use.  She  found  many  sympathiz- 
ers. A  few  said  it  was  inconsistent  in  Miss 
Lyon  to  urge  us  to  cultivate  vocal  music  and 
then  not  let  us  hear  any  but  our  own.  The 
Hutchinsons  showed  their  good- will  by  giving 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER     383 

us  a  serenade  that  night,  yet  the  malcontents 
continued  to  grumble  a  little.  Early  the  next 
morning,  the  young  ladies  on  duty  near  the  par- 
lor passed  the  word  that  Mr.  Hutchinson  was 
calling  on  Miss  Lyon,  and  was  probably  giving 
her  a  piece  of  his  mind  for  her  disrespect  to  his 
family.  Then  even  the  murmurers  took  her 
part,  for  all  knew  that  her  judgments  were  right, 
and  no  one  wished  her  to  suffer  reproach  for 
our  sakes.  By  the  time  she  bade  us  good-morn- 
ing in  the  hall,  ill-humor  had  subsided  and 
every  heart  was  loyal. 

After  devotions,  Miss  Lyon  told  us  of  her 
pleasant  interview  with  Mr.  Hutchinson  in 
which  he  had  kindly  offered  to  give  us  a  con- 
cert. Upon  this  a  door  was  opened,  the  singers 
filed  in,  took  their  places  on  the  platform,  and 
for  an  hour  entertained  us  in  their  happiest 
manner.  All  agreed  that  this  was  better  than 
an  evening  out,  and  no  face  expressed  more 
pleasure  than  Miss  Lyon's. 

A  few  months  later,  huge  posters  foretold 
the  coming  of  a  menagerie.  "  It  is  nothing  to 
us,"  the  young  ladies  said.  But,  lo  and  be- 
hold !  when  the  eventful  day  arrived,  Miss  Lyon 


384    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

not  only  gave  general  permission,  but  advised  us 
to  improve  this  opportunity  to  see  the  elephant 
and  the  other  rare  specimens  of  animated  na- 
ture. The  manager  had  written  to  her  weeks 
before  to  inquire  whether  the  students  would 
be  allowed  to  attend,  for  if  their  patronage  were 
withheld  it  would  not  pay  to  move  the  caravans 
to  South  Hadley.  In  replying,  she  informed 
him  that  she  would  be  glad  to  give  such  a  privi- 
lege, but  as  many  of  them  were  of  limited 
means  it  might  be  as  well  for  him  to  admit 
them  at  special  rates.  So  it  happened  that,  be- 
ing identified  by  teachers  stationed  near  the 
entrance  of  the  tent,  we  were  admitted  at  half 
the  regular  price. 

In  giving  us  permission,  Miss  Lyon  made 
but  one  restriction.  We  were  not  to  stay  to  wit- 
ness the  performance,  but  when  we  should  see 
any  teacher  moving  toward  the  exit  we  were  to 
follow  her  at  once.  After  viewing  the  animals, 
we  took  seats  while  the  elephants  marched 
around  the  amphitheatre.  One  with  a  howdah 
on  its  back  was  halted  near  us,  and  the  mana- 
ger called  for  ladies  to  mount  and  ride.  Two 
or  three  misses  started  forward  and  then  drew 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    385 

back  timidly,  until  a  young  lady  of  the  senior 
class,  with  head  erect  and  fearless  mien,  walked 
to  the  front,  climbed  the  ladder,  and  seated  her- 
self as  if  she  were  an  eastern  princess  accus- 
tomed to  take  her  airing  in  this  manner.  There 
was  a  whispering  among  the  juniors :  "  What  a 
bold,  bad  action  for  a  missionary's  daughter! 
How  dares  a  senior  set  us  such  an  example  ?" 
Some  said  she  would  surely  be  suspended,  per- 
haps expelled.  Others  thought  she  might  be 
let  off  with  a  public  reprimand,  if  duly  peni- 
tent. It  was  believed  that  the  sentiment  of  the 
seminary  would  certainly  demand  some  heroic 
measure. 

The  great  beast  went  around  with  its  bur- 
den, the  senior  descended  safely  and  resumed 
her  former  seat,  unabashed.  Directly  a  tiger 
leaped  from  its  cage  and  rolled  over  and  over 
with  its  keeper,  in  frightful  play.  The  perform- 
ance was  well  under  way  or  ever  we  were  aware, 
and  we  had  seen  no  teachers  moving.  Bless 
their  kind  hearts !  Was  it  that  they  in  their  in- 
nocence did  not  know  when  it  was  time  to  start, 
or  were  our  eyes  turned  away  from  our  chap- 
erons and  holden  that  we  should  not  see  them  ? 


386    THE   LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

When  all  was  over  and  we  went  out  with  the 
crowd,  we  spied  a  teacher  near  the  gate  appar- 
ently watching  for  stragglers,  but  we  passed  by 
on  the  other  side  without  a  challenge.  At  sup- 
per-time all  the  lambs  were  secure  in  the  fold, 
and  not  a  wolf  among  them.  We  never  heard 
that  the  audacious  senior  met  with  the  slightest 
reproof,  nor  lost  caste  for  her  rash  exploit. 
Miss  Lyon,  wise  as  Solomon,  knew  when  to 
keep  silence  and  when  to  speak. 

Miss  Lyon  had  a  wonderful  faculty  of  study- 
ing character:  she  would  sometimes  look  so 
intently  into  one's  face,  that  she  seemed  to  look 
beyond  the  features  into  the  very  soul.  In  one 
of  her  talks  to  the  girls,  at  what  was  called  the 
general  exercise  in  the  hall,  she  was  trying  to 
impress  upon  them  the  importance  of  forming 
good  habits  in  little  things ;  she  said  that  "  char- 
acter, like  embroidery,  was  made  stitch  by 
stitch" ;  that  after  a  while  a  few  marked  traits 
would  determine  the  character,  and  that  we  had 
it  largely  in  our  power  to  make  ourselves  a  force 
for  good  or  bad.  Miss  Lyon  arose  from  her 
seat  on  the  platform,  and  stepping  forward  said : 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    387 

"Why!  young  ladies,  by  the  principle  of  com- 
parative anatomy  I  can  tell  by  one  or  two  char- 
acteristics what  you  are  likely  to  make  of  your- 
selves." Pointing  with  her  finger,  she  said :  "I 
could  walk  down  this  aisle,  and  tell  by  the  tie 
of  your  shoes  who  were  good  students  in  geom- 
etry." There  was  an  audible  drawing  in  of 
feet.  (It  was  before  the  days  of  button  shoes.) 
It  was  not  strange  that  where  so  many  had 
their  home  under  one  roof  some  case  would 
occur  every  year  that  called  for  special  disci- 
pline. Miss  Lyon  required  the  most  convincing 
evidence  before  she  would  believe  anything  ill 
of  her  dear  pupils ;  but  when  once  convinced  of 
their  unfitness  to  remain  members  of  the  family, 
they  were  quietly  expelled.  When  fully  in- 
formed of  the  particulars  of  the  offence,  Miss 
Lyon  would  inform  us  of  it  at  the  morning  devo- 
tions, and  tell  us  what  was  to  be  the  punish- 
ment of  the  girl.  Then  she  would  say :  "  Young 
ladies,  you  know  all  about  it,  and  there  is  no 
occasion  to  talk  with  each  other  or  even  to 
speak  to  your  room-mate  of  the  matter.  Above 
all  things  do  not  say  or  think,  How  could  she 
do  such  a  thing?  I  could  not." 


388    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

Her  lectures  in  the  hall  showed  her  mental 
grasp  and  power  of  thought  and  speech.  Such 
prayers,  brief,  but  comprehensive  and  wonder- 
fully tender!  Such  expositions  of  the  Bible  I 
have  never  heard  since.  Her  intimacy  with 
God  gave  her  almost  unerring  judgment.  Her 
spiritual  vision  was  clear.  During  the  great  re- 
vival of  1847  she  waited  till  she  was  sure  that 
one  and  another,  here  and  there,  were  moved 
by  the  spirit ;  then  she  called  a  meeting  in  her 
parlor  of  those  who  wished  to  speak  with  her 
on  the  subject  of  religion.  How  I  trembled  as 
I  turned  the  knob  of  the  door,  fearing  I  should 
be  the  only  one  present.  To  my  astonishment 
the  room  was  full ;  many  friends  whom  I  met 
several  times  a  day  were  there.  Miss  Lyon 
alone  had  read  their  secret  hearts.  She  had 
great  power  to  win  us  over  to  her  way  of  think- 
ing. On  going  into  her  first  missionary  lecture, 
I  was  warned  to  steel  my  heart  against  her  per- 
suasive eloquence.  "She  will  make  you  feel 
just  as  she  does  about  going  on  foreign  mis- 
sions." Vain  precaution.  Her  views  of  duty  be- 
came ours  as  we  listened  to  her  impassioned 
but  reasonable  presentation  of  the  subject. 


AS  HEE  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    389 

She  loved  self- sacrifice  and  she  inspired  it  in 
others.  "  Go  where  no  one  else  is  willing  to  go 
-  do  what  no  one  else  is  willing  to  do."  The 
angel  Gabriel  sent  to  this  world  on  a  mission 
would  not  ask  whether  he  was  to  sweep  the 
streets  or  preach  the  gospel.  This  principle  she 
applied  to  the  domestic  work.  If  there  was  any 
especially  unpleasant  work  to  do,  she  gave  the 
senior  class  the  privilege  of  volunteering  to  do 
it;  volunteers  were  never  wanting.  She  de- 
clared the  domestic  department  was  not  in- 
tended to  teach  young  ladies  to  do  housework, 
that  they  should  learn  from  their  mothers  at 
home.  She  did  not  even  want  them  to  love  it. 
It  seemed  the  best  way  to  carry  on  the  work  of 
the  family,  and  each  was  expected  to  do  her 
part,  cheerfully  and  without  loss  of  dignity  or 
self-respect;  and  this  became  a  factor  in  the 
development  of  character. 

The  great  beautiful  domestic  hall  was  an 
eye-opener  to  me.  Besides  the  setting  of  the 
large  plan,  the  many  contrivances  for  neatness, 
economy,  and  convenience  appealed  to  me  and 
in  principle  have  helped  me  many  times  since  in 


390    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

domestic  arrangements  under  very  different  cir- 
cumstances and  with  few  resources.  I  have  never 
gotten  over  the  necessity  of  promptness.  The 
circumstances  which  make  not  only  prompt- 
ness but  exactness,  regularity,  and  thorough- 
ness so  necessary  would  seem  to  cultivate  those 
qualities,  especially  when  the  doing,  or  failing, 
was  followed  by  such  evident  results,  perhaps 
affecting  many  other  individuals.  Ability  to 
work  harmoniously  with  others  was  another 
thing  that  had  a  chance  to  grow  on  some  of 
those  domestic  circles.  From  my  present  stand- 
point, the  mind  which  set  in  motion  the  wheels 
in  that  domestic  hall  and  kept  them  running 
was  indeed  a  wonder  —  remembering  that  all 
the  material  used  belonged  to,  and  was  being 
fitted  in,  at  the  same  time,  to  the  great  super- 
structure of  which  the  domestic  hall  was  a  mere 
adjunct,  subject  to  change  and  growing  less  as 
circumstances  permitted.  There  was  somewhat 
less  of  the  hard  work  done  by  the  students  in 
1848  than  in  1846. 

Every  household  regulation  had  its  reason 
drawn  from  the  law  of  love.    To  enter  rooms 


during  study  hours  was  to  steal  the  time  of  im- 
provement from  others ;  to  neglect  the  corners 
in  cleaning  halls  or  stairs  was  to  place  upon 
others  selfishly  the  work  belonging  to  you;  to 
nick  the  dishes  was  to  be  unfaithful  stewards 
of  property  bought  with  self-sacrifice,  —  for 
every  brick  in  that  building  and  all  its  furniture 
was  to  her  sacred,  as  purchased  by  the  self- 
denial  of  many  who  gave  cheerfully  out  of  their 
means,  for  love  of  the  great  cause. 

She  was  wonderfully  persuasive.  We  would 
go  down  to  the  hall  sometimes,  knowing  that  a 
vote  was  to  be  taken  on  some  matter,  and  de- 
termined against  voting  a  certain  way.  "  She 
will  try  to  make  us  vote  so-and-so,  and  I  won't 
vote  that  way,  if  she  does  want  us  to  —  I  won't 
do  it."  And  then  Miss  Lyon  would  talk  to  us 
and  we  wTould  do  as  she  desired. 

Her  teachings  roused  the  spirit  of  self-de- 
pendence in  her  pupils.  For  instance,  a  young 
lady  in  Heath,  Massachusetts,  once  riding 
with  a  friend,  found  the  road  obstructed  by  a 
fallen  tree.  After  looking  at  it  she  exclaimed, 


392    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

"I  have  not  been  to  Mount  Holyoke  two 
years  to  be  turned  back  by  such  an  obstacle." 
She  therefore  alighted  and  with  the  help  of 
her  friend  dragged  the  offending  tree  out  of 
the  way.  Such  a  spirit  was  very  general 
among  the  daughters  of  Mount  Holyoke. 

Can  any  one  who  was  present  forget  the  day 
when,  rising  to  her  feet  at  table,  Miss  Lyon  re- 
quested the  silver  circle  to  bring  teaspoons  for 
the  dessert,  saying,  "  To-day  our  dessert  is  like 
some  young  ladies  whom  you  may  have  known, 
very  soft  and  very  sweet,  but  lacking  in  con- 
sistency." That  word  consistency  was,  from 
that  day,  one  of  our  jewels. 

"  Privilege  and  obligation,  like  sisters,  go 
hand  in  hand." 

"Do  not  let  any  one,  as  she  hears  your  voice 
in  the  little  prayer-meeting,  think  of  you,  I 
suppose  she  is  a  real  good  person,  but  I  wish 
she  would  pay  me  the  two  cents  she  borrowed. " 

"  The  whole  is  equal  to  the  sum  of  all  its 
parts.  If  you  permit  yourself  to  do  less  than 
you  ought  in  study  or  [less  than]  the  best  you 
can  in  matters  of  right,  your  character  is  so  far 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    393 

deficient,  and  in  failing,  you  lose  your  own  self- 
respect,  and  the  power  to  influence  others." 

Greatly  surprised  was  I,  upon  being  invited 
by  Miss  Lyon  to  return  the  following  year  to 
be  one  of  the  teachers.  Nothing  could  be  so 
pleasing  to  me  as  thus  to  be  associated  with  the 
dear  one ;  but  from  her  instructions  it  seemed 
too  selfish  and  not  right.  ...  In  her  room  one 
day  she  said :  "  You  will  see  a  paper  on  the 
writing-table.  I  wish  you  to  read  and  sign  your 
name  to  it."  It  was  a  pledge  that  I  return  as  a 
teacher.  While  nothing  would  be  so  pleasing 
to  me,  I  still  doubted  it  being  right  and  returned 
home  without  yielding. 

The  trustees  of  a  medical  college  in  Wil- 
loughby,  Ohio,  applied  to  Miss  Lyon  to  send 
them  a  teacher  to  establish  a  seminary  for  young 
ladies  in  Willoughby.  The  college  faculty  had 
disbanded  and  left  a  good  building  for  that  pur- 
pose. She  recommended  my  humble  self,  and 
I  commenced  work  in  March,  1847,  in  a  town 
of  only  forty  families,  with  fourteen  pupils. 
In  twelve  weeks  there  were  about  thirty.  So  I 
consented  to  return  in  September,  to  begin  the 


school  for  one  year;  which  was  duly  adver- 
tised. The  success  of  the  matter  was  beyond 
expectations.  It  grew  from  year  to  year,  so 
that  the  seventh  year  there  were  two  hundred 
and  thirty-five  different  pupils  and  fourteen 
graduates,  having  the  same  course  of  studies 
as  used  at  Holyoke.  .  .  .  We  had  students  from 
New  York  City,  New  Orleans,  and  almost 
every  state  in  the  Union.  From  overwork  I  was 
obliged  to  resign.  Soon  after  I  left,  a  fire  de- 
stroyed the  building,  and  five  counties  asked  for 
the  school;  and  the  trustees  decided  that  the 
county  that  would  give  most  for  it  should  be 
favored ;  which  proved  to  be  Lake  Erie  County 
and  the  work  was  resumed  at  Painesville,  bear- 
ing the  name  of  Lake  Erie  Seminary,  and  after- 
wards Lake  Erie  College.  I  have  written  this  to 
show  the  issue  of  my  yielding  to  the  impression 
made  by  Miss  Lyon  when  she  advised  us  not 
to  consult  our  own  wishes  in  taking  a  place  for 
usefulness. 

With  granite  principles  and  a  moral  compass 
that  never  veered  Miss  Lyon  had  also  power 
of  adaptation.  ...  In  our  little  parlor  we 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    395 

frequently  welcomed  my  brother,  who  was  in 
charge  of  the  village  academy,  Miss  C—  -  being 
like  another  older  sister.  One  evening  he  was 
taken  suddenly  and  violently  ill  in  our  parlor, 
too  ill  it  seemed  to  be  removed ;  yet  he  must  be. 
I  sent  a  young  lady  to  report  our  dilemma  to 
Miss  Lyon,  who  came  at  once  in  person.  Greet- 
ing the  sick  young  man  in  genuine  motherly 
fashion,  she  bade  him  feel  perfectly  at  home  and 
be  content  to  remain  in  the  care  of  his  sister 
until  the  physician  should  pronounce  it  safe 
for  him  to  leave.  She  directed  that  a  bed  should 
be  at  once  placed  in  our  parlor,  and  that  he 
should  be  cared  for  as  faithfully  as  he  could  be 
in  his  father's  house.  Then  a  consultation  in 
the  hall  (not  above  a  whisper)  comes  back  to  me 
so  vividly.  Taking  my  hands  in  hers,  she  told 
me  not  to  be  troubled,  that  this  was  clearly 
Providential  and  all  right,  that  my  classes  should 
be  passed  over  to  other  teachers  for  the  time 
being  and  part  of  Miss  C—  -'s  also,  that  she 
might  relieve  me,  if  necessary.  With  a  wonder- 
ful insight  she  had  taken  the  diagnosis  of  the 
case  at  a  glance  and  saw  that  a  course  of  fever 
was  on  our  hands  and  gave  thoughtful  direc- 


396    THE   LIFE  OF   MARY  LYON 

tions  for  the  patient  and  nurses.  "  Your  brother 
is  one  of  our  family  now  —  take  good  care  of 
him." 

This  was  a  strange  episode  truly  in  a  young 
ladies'  seminary.  But  the  great  family  was  like 
a  sisterhood,  all  getting  a  new  peep  into  the 
great  heart  of  our  mother  superior  as  the  days 
of  weakness  and  delirium  drew  forth  daily 
manna  of  devices  and  alleviations. 

When  my  sister  was  to  be  married  a  second 
time,  Miss  Lyon  had  the  wedding  Thanksgiv- 
ing evening  in  the  seminary  hall.  The  ceremony 
was  performed  in  the  presence  of  all  the  young 
ladies  who  were  spending  the  vacation  there. 
Miss  Lyon,  the  gracious  and  interested  hostess, 
saluted  the  bride  and  saw  that  the  refreshments 
she  had  so  thoughtfully  provided  were  served. 
She  was  not  the  teacher,  she  was  the  mother, 
the  hostess,  in  her  own  home,  giving  her 
daughter  in  marriage.  I  fear  those  who  did  not 
know  her  in  those  early  days  will  never  under- 
stand how  truly  tender  and  loving,  and  how 
womanly  she  was. 

In  the  seminary  hall  during  one  of  the  long 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    397 

vacations  were  many  busy  workers,  making 
over  carpets  and  repairing  mattresses  under 
Miss  Lyon's  direction,  that  all  might  be  in 
readiness  when  her  family  returned.  She  had 
sent  to  Northampton  and  from  her  own  scanty 
means  purchased  oranges,  more  rare  and  more 
highly  prized  than  now,  that  she  might  have  the 
pleasure  of  making  others  happy.  One  beauti- 
ful afternoon,  when  the  sun  was  flooding  the 
room  with  glory,  she  came  in,  her  face  all  aglow 
with  her  own  beautiful  secret,  and  distributed 
the  precious  fruit.  The  next  day,  sitting  by  my 
mother  in  our  own  parlor,  she  put  her  hand 
into  her  capacious  pocket  and  took  out,  one 
after  another,  the  oranges  she  had  brought  as 
a  special  gift.  Surely  there  were  never  such 
oranges  before  nor  since. 

Her  advice  to  teachers  was :  "  Never  scold. 
If  you  cannot  teach  without  scolding,  lay  aside 
your  office.  Do  not  consider  it  beneath  your 
dignity  to  instruct  little  children;  one  should 
know  as  much  as  a  minister  in  order  to  teach 
a  child  how  to  read." 


398    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

One  word  of  hers  I  remember  in  regard  to 
trials.  "  You  will  all  have  them.  When  God 
sends  you  a  trial  it  will  be  a  trial  for  you.  What 
he  sends  you  may  not  be  a  trial  for  another. 
He  will  give  you  sustaining  grace." 

I  hear  her  words :  "  In  your  service  for  the 
Master,  do  not  desire  or  expect  praise  or  reward . 
Do  all  out  of  sheer  love  for  your  Saviour.  Live 
near  Him,  not  afar  off.  Try  to  please  Him,  try 
to  be  like  Him.  A  present  trust  in  Him  is  the 
best  preparation  for  every  trial  that  may  come 
to  you,  the  best  preparation  for  your  closing 
hour." 

One  day  she  sent  for  me.  I  went  to  her  office. 
Handing  me  a  composition,  she  asked  me  to 
read  three  or  four  lines.  I  did  so.  '  That  will 
do,"  Miss  Lyon  said.  The  next  day  I  heard 
that  I  was  to  read  the  composition  at  anni- 
versary. Miss  Lyon  wanted  a  good  reader  and 
had  tried  several.  This  incident  is  very  char- 
acteristic of  her.  It  shows  her  swift,  direct, 
business-like  way  of  despatching  a  matter. 

Miss  Lyon  would  have  liked  to  be  very 
friendly  and  intimate  with  her  students  had 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    399 

she  had  time.  When  she  was  dressed  for  an 
occasion,  she  looked  very  pretty.  I  recollect 
how,  once  when  she  was  going  out  to  a  wedding 
in  town,  we  gathered  about  the  door  to  get  a 
peep  at  her.  She  liked  to  have  us  approve  her 
dress.  She  was  very  particular  that  in  our 
manners  and  ways  of  living  we  should  not  be 
like  college  boys.  She  never  said  girls,  always 
young  ladies. 

Miss  Lyon's  personal  appearance  was  de- 
cidedly attractive.  She  was  not  beautiful,  but 
there  was  nothing  in  face  or  form  to  repel.  She 
did  not  excel  in  the  graces  of  the  drawing- 
room,  and  was  not  fastidiously  nice  in  matters 
of  etiquette,  but  was  never  lacking  in  winning 
dignity  and  cordiality,  whether  meeting  the 
learned  college  president,  the  distinguished  di- 
vine, the  governor  of  the  state,  or  the  timid 
young  girl  who  came  to  be  taught  by  her.  Her 
dress  was  simple,  but  always  tidy,  except  when 
she  put  her  head  into  the  Rumford  oven,  and 
had  to  be  sent  to  her  room  to  change  her  cap. 
This  Rumford  oven  was  a  new  invention  which 
none  of  us  had  seen  till  Deacon  Safford  donated 


400    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

one  to  Holyoke.  He  explained  to  our  lady  of  the 
house  all  its  conveniences  and  how  it  was  to  be 
handled,  and  she  taught  others  and  was  very 
fond  of  using  it  herself.  She  had  great  vivacity 
of  expression,  and  enjoyed  a  good  joke,  even 
when  she  was  the  subject  of  it,  and  could  laugh 
with  the  merriest. 

Next  to  the  training  I  received  from  a  godly 
father  and  mother  I  owe  more  to  Mary  Lyon 
than  I  can  express.  Not  a  day  of  my  life  passes 
that  I  do  not  put  in  practice  something  I  learned 
of  her.  It  was  my  mother's  dying  request  that 
her  six  daughters  should  go  to  Mount  Holyoke 
as  pupils  of  Mary  Lyon.  In  all,  our  family 
were  there  twenty-five  years  as  scholars  and 
teachers !  My  father  used  to  say,  "  We  certainly 
know  Mary  Lyon  and  Mount  Holyoke  well." 
We  did  and  loved  it  dearly. 

I  roomed  with  Miss  Lyon  for  a  part  of  one 
term,  and  came  to  know  her  intimately.  She 
was  one  of  the  most  cheerful,  sunny  room- 
mates I  ever  had.  Many,  I  believe,  think  of  her 
as  austere  in  face  and  manner  —  nothing  is 
farther  from  the  truth.  I  never  think  of  her  with- 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    401 

out  seeing  her  radiant  face,  strong  but  lovely, 
her  great  blue  eyes  and  clear  complexion. 

More  than  once  she  said  to  me, "  Miss  T , 

I  shall  not  live  to  see  this  a  college,  but  I  be- 
lieve you  will  live  to  see  the  time  when  girls 
shall  have  just  as  good  opportunities  as  their 
brothers."  She  sought  to  make  the  course  of 
study  such  as  should  lead  to  a  collegiate  course, 
and  was  especially  anxious  her  students  should 
have  Latin. 

I  know  that  before  the  corner-stone  was  laid 
her  plan  was  carried  before  the  Congregational 
Association  of  Massachusetts.  One  of  the  cler- 
gymen, who  was  her  friend,  and  thoroughly 
interested  in  the  plan,  laid  it  before  the  august 
body  that  were  assembled  and  asked  for  their 
approval.  This  they  declined,  and  her  friend 
said  in  reporting  it  to  her,  "  So  you  must  take 
this  as  the  indication  of  Providence."  But 
Mary  Lyon  knew  the  Providence  of  God  better 
than  they  all,  and  she  said,  "We  will  go  on." 

Miss  Lyon  always  believed  in  the  best  that 
was  possible  for  the  seminary.  The  parlors, 
for  example,  were  furnished  better  than  many 
of  the  home  parlors,  and  some  were  inclined 


402    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

to  criticise  because  she  had  carpets  on  the  floors 
and  furniture  better  than  the  ordinary.  I  heard 
her  say  once,  "  I  want  our  young  ladies  to  see 
that  which  is  suited  to  the  best  homes ;  I  want 
them  ready  to  grace  the  finest  and  to  beautify 
the  lowest." 

She  looked  into  all  the  details,  and  as  she 
said  more  than  once,  "  I  pray  as  truly  that  the 
bread  may  be  sweet  for  this  great  family  as  I 
do  for  the  conversion  of  the  world." 

The  Christian  power  of  Miss  Lyon  was  in- 
describable. It  permeated  all  our  lives  and 
made  us  feel  that  it  was  a  solemn  as  well  as  a 
blessed  thing  to  live.  I  cannot  describe  her 
power  as  a  teacher  of  the  Bible,  but  I  know  and 
believe  that  no  one  who  came  under  her  teach- 
ing failed  to  feel  its  influence  all  her  Me.  I  re- 
member one  cold  winter  it  was  almost  impossi- 
ble to  keep  any  place  but  the  dining-room  (that 
was  large  enough  for  us  all)  warm.  We  had 
our  Bible  lesson  together  in  the  dining-room  in 
the  evening.  We  were  going  through  the  wil- 
derness with  Moses  and  the  tribes.  How  we 
enjoyed  those  lessons  as  taught  by  Miss  Lyon ! 
The  tables  she  had  represent  the  twelve  tribes 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    403 

when  encamped,  and  the  room  seemed  all  alight 
with  the  cloud  of  fire  which  they  were  to  follow. 
The  Bible  became  a  wonderful  book  as  she 
opened  it  up  to  us.  She  never  talked  doctrines 
-  except  faith,  hope,  and  charity.  There  was 
never  anything  dogmatical  or  metaphysical  in 
her  talks.  The  Bible  was  made  a  living  reality. 
So  many  passages  I  marked  bring  back  to  me 
the  blessed  lessons.  She  never  talked  in  a  way 
to  criticise  others.  I  did  not  know  all  the  six 
years  I  was  there  that  she  was  born  a  Baptist. 
I  never  heard  her  speak  of  denominations,  but 
she  made  us  feel  that  we  were  to  work  for  the 
Master  wherever  our  lot  was  cast. 

Once  a  week  she  had  a  "family  meeting," 
as  she  called  it,  when  she  talked  as  a  mother  of 
a  family  to  her  children.  She  allowed  us  to 
bring  in  notes  of  criticism  and  questions  that 
we  penned  on  slips  of  paper,  no  one  knowing 
of  course  by  whom  they  were  written  or  who 
was  intended  to  be  criticised.  I  well  remember 
one  day  when  she  had  answered  a  criticism  in 
a  way  that  made  us  all  laugh,  she  said :  "  Oh, 
don't  turn  and  look  at  each  other,  if  the  coat  fits 
you,  put  it  on,  don't  try  to  put  it  on  your  neigh- 


404    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

bor."  She  had  a  faculty  of  making  a  careless 
thing  look  very  careless,  and  a  wasteful  thing 
look  very  wasteful  and  sinful. 

Ours  was  a  large  class  of  fifty,  and  we  asked 
if  we  could  not  have  some  special  privilege.  I 
remember  how  her  luminous  face  turned  upon 
us  those  big  blue  eyes,  and  she  said :  "  Oh,  yes, 
young  ladies,  you  shall  have  the  privilege  of 
being  the  best  students  and  finest  characters 
we  have  ever  graduated." 

Another  day,  near  the  close  of  the  term,  she 
said :  "  Some  of  you  will  be  disappointed,  per- 
haps, when  you  get  home.  You  will  find  humble 
work  to  do,  —  washing  dishes,  darning  stock- 
ings for  your  brothers  and  sisters,  and  you  will 
say, '  Was  it  for  this  that  I  studied  higher  math- 
ematics and  Butler's  "Analogy"  ?'  Did  you  ever 
stand  by  a  little  lake  and  drop  in  a  pebble,  and 
watch  the  circles  as  they  widened  and  widened 
and  were  lost  in  the  distance  ?  So  lift  your  mo- 
ther's burdens,  help  with  the  little  brother  or 
sister.  You  may  not  know  the  result,  but  be 
sure  that  your  influence  will  widen  and  widen 
into  eternity." 

She  was  systematic  in  her  habits,  but  not 


AS  HER  STUDENTS  KNEW  HER    405 

rigidly  so.  She  was  most  thoughtful  of  her  stu- 
dents and  all  about  her.  I  well  remember  the 
first  faculty  meeting  that  I  attended.  After  a 
little  season  of  prayer  she  spoke  of  the  impor- 
tance of  our  knowing  our  students  personally, 
and,  as  far  as  possible,  putting  ourselves  in 
then*  places.  If  we  rebuked,  always  to  do  it 
kindly,  and  in  such  a  way  that  there  could  be 
no  resentment.  If  we  found  a  student  dull  and 
slow,  never  to  let  her  realize  that  we  knew  it, 
but  to  help  and  encourage  such  most  carefully. 
I  never  knew  a  student  irritated  by  anything 
Miss  Lyon  said  or  did.  If  she  had  occasion  to 
rebuke,  it  was  done  with  such  tenderness  and 
sorrow  that  the  student  herself  would  be  made 
tender.  She  had  a  keen  sense  of  the  ridiculous, 
and  told  me  once  that  she  had  to  be  very  watch- 
ful that  she  did  not  hurt  any  one's  feelings  by 
anything  that  was  satirical  or  that  would  lead 
one  to  think  that  she  wanted  to  ridicule.  She 
had  a  remarkable  memory  as  to  pupils  and 
their  characteristics,  and  took  great  interest  in 
individual  students,  knowing  much  of  their 
history  but  never  speaking  of  that  which  was 
unpleasant  or  undesirable. 


406    THE  LIFE  OF  MARY  LYON 

When  I  went  to  bid  Miss  Lyon  good-by  after 
my  marriage,  just  before  we  sailed  for  India, 
she  put  her  arms  about  me  and  kissing  me  said, 
"Dear  child,  I  wanted  to  see  you  more  before 
you  left,  but  never  mind,  there  will  be  time 
enough  in  heaven."  She  was  in  heaven  before 
we  reached  Ceylon. 


CHAPTER  X 

AN    APPRECIATION 

THERE  remains  only  to  pass  in  review  Miss 
Lyon's  salient  traits,  and  to  indicate  the  cur- 
rents of  her  influence.  Yet  the  work  has  been 
hitherto  ill  done,  if  this  chapter  appear  in  any 
real  sense  necessary.  The  reader's  impressions 
of  the  woman  are  already  formed,  and  he  can 
trace  the  outline  of  her  shadow  on  later  decades. 
Whether  he  approve  or  distrust  her  methods 
and  accomplishments,  he  but  reproduces  the 
judgments  of  her  day.  Lover  of  quiet  though 
she  was,  her  ideas  evoked  from  her  generation 
ardent  praise  and  as  vociferous  censure.  It  is  to 
be  remembered  as  a  somewhat  notable  fact 
that  in  spite  of  this  she  made  no  personal  en- 
emies. 

Genius  always  holds  an  element  of  mystery ; 
but  in  so  far  as  her  peculiar  gift  may  be  defined, 
it  would  seem  to  have  consisted  primarily  in 
knowing  the  exact  point  at  which  to  apply  her- 


408    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

self  so  as  to  secure  the  largest  results.  This 
incisive  temper,  qualifying  her  equally  as  stu- 
dent, teacher,  and  organizer,  was  furthered  by 
a  rare  harmony  of  development.  All  her  abili- 
ties pulled  together  with  joyous  energy,  and 
no  disuse  or  ill  use  sapped  their  united  vigor. 
Both  President  Humphrey  and  President 
Hitchcock  voiced  appreciations  of  Miss  Lyon, 
and  to-day  perhaps  there  is  no  fairer  way  of 
looking  at  her  characteristics  than  through  the 
eyes  of  these  men  who  were  her  friends. 

Mr.  Hitchcock  spoke  and  wrote  out  of 
thirty  years  of  intimate  acquaintance.  "It 
gives  a  just  view  of  the  character  of  her  mind 
to  say  that  it  corresponded  to  that  of  her  body; 
that  is,  there  was  a  full  development  of  all  the 
powers,  with  no  undue  prominence  to  any  one 
of  them.  .  .  .  She  did,  however,  exhibit  some 
mental  characteristics,  either  original  or  ac- 
quired, more  or  less  peculiar.  It  was,  for  ex- 
ample, the  great  features  of  a  subject  wThich  her 
mind  always  seized  upon  first.  .  .  .  The  in- 
ventive faculties  were  also  very  fully  developed. 
.  .  .  Rarely  did  she  attempt  anything  in  which 
she  did  not  succeed;  nor  did  she  undertake  it 


AN  APPRECIATION  409 

till  her  clear  judgment  told  her  that  it  would 
succeed.  Then  it  mattered  little  who  or  what 
opposed.  At  first  she  hesitated,  especially  when 
any  plan  was  under  consideration  that  would 
not  be  generally  approved;  but  when  upon 
careful  consideration  she  saw  clearly  its  practi- 
cability and  importance,  she  nailed  the  colors 
to  the  mast;  and  though  the  enemy's  fire 
might  be  terrific,  she  stood  calmly  at  her  post 
and  usually  saw  her  opposers  lower  their  flag. 
She  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  that  most 
striking  of  all  the  characteristics  of  a  great 
mind,  viz.,  perseverance  under  difficulties. 
When  thoroughly  convinced  that  she  had  truth 
on  her  side,  she  did  not  fear  to  stand  alone  and 
act  alone,  patiently  waiting  for  the  hour  when 
others  would  see  the  subject  as  she  did.  This 
was  firmness,  not  obstinacy;  for  no  one  was 
more  open  to  conviction  than  she ;  but  her  con- 
version must  result  from  stronger  arguments, 
not  from  fear  or  the  authority  of  names. 

"  Miss  Lyon  possessed  also  the  power  of  con- 
centrating the  attention  and  enduring  long- 
continued  mental  labor  in  an  extraordinary 
degree.  When  once  fairly  engaged  in  any  im- 


410    THE  LIFE  OF   MARY  LYON 

portant  subject  .  .  .  there  seemed  to  be  no 
irritated  nerves  or  truant  thoughts  to  intrude ; 
nor  could  the  external  world  break  up  her  al- 
most mesmeric  abstraction. 

"Another  mental  characteristic  was  her 
great  power  to  control  the  minds  of  others. 
And  it  was  done,  too,  without  their  suspecting 
it ;  nay,  in  opposition  often  to  strong  prejudice. 
Before  you  were  aware,  her  well-woven  net  of 
argument  was  over  you,  and  so  soft  were  its 
silken  meshes  that  you  did  not  feel  them.  One 
reason  was  that  you  soon  learnt  that  the  fingers 
of  love  and  knowledge  had  unitedly  formed  the 
web  and  woof  of  that  net.  You  saw  that  she 
knew  more  than  you  did  about  the  subject; 
that  she  had  thrown  her  wThole  soul  into  it ;  that 
in  urging  it  upon  you  she  was  actuated  by  be- 
nevolent motives  and  was  anxious  for  your  good ; 
and  that  it  was  hazardous  for  you  to  resist  so 
much  light  and  love.  ...  It  was  often  amaz- 
ing to  see  how  triumphantly  she  would  carry 
through  any  measure  in  her  school  that  seemed 
important.  She  knew  how  to  form  and  set  in 
motion  a  current  which  made  individual  oppo- 
sition as  powerless  as  chaff  before  the  whirl- 


AN   APPRECIATION  411 

wind.  But  this  talent  was  not  confined  to  her 
schools.  Wherever  it  was  necessary  or  desirable 
to  influence  individuals,  or  collections  of  men 
or  women,  she  knew  how  to  spin  those  silken 
cords  that  would  lead  them  where  she  pleased. 
Yet  she  never  pleased  to  lead  them  where  rea- 
son and  conscience  and  benevolence  did  not 
point  the  way.  Generally,  too,  those  who  were 
thus  influenced  were  not  aware  that  the  in- 
visible force  by  which  they  were  gently  urged 
along  emanated  from  her.  Like  a  practiced 
mesmerist,  she  had  thrown  them  into  a  better 
than  somnambulic  state  and  it  needed  only  her 
volitions  afterwards  to  determine  their  move- 
ments. Sometimes,  indeed,  during  their  hallu- 
cination she  contrived  to  get  money  out  of  their 
pockets ;  but  when  they  awoke  from  the  dream 
of  benevolence  they  were  always  thankful  that 
they  had  been  robbed  and  invited  the  robber 
to  come  again  when  the  cause  of  education  or 
religion  demanded  further  help. 

"She  had  a  marvelous  power  of  executing 
whatever  she  had  the  means  of  doing.  Her  prac- 
tice trod  close  upon  the  heels  of  theory,  and 
usually  was  nearly  as  perfect,  like  the  molecu- 


412    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

lar  operations  in  chemistry  and  crystallography. 
Having  great  skill  in  estimating  the  difficulties 
to  be  overcome  and  in  devising  adequate  means, 
she  also  possessed  a  most  unusual  power  of  ac- 
complishing the  most  by  those  means.  .  .  . 
The  promptness,  too,  with  which  this  execu- 
tive power  was  manifested  deserves  notice.  The 
moment  a  thing  was  found  to  be  desirable  and 
practicable,  she  felt  uneasy  till  it  was  in  the 
course  of  execution. 

"  Great  energy  in  accomplishing  objects  may 
not  always  be  associated  with  much  wisdom; 
but  this  is  essential  to  the  management  of  a 
large  literary  institution.  Here  are  numerous 
and  quite  diverse  elements  to  be  controlled.  As 
to  pupils,  it  is  one  important  qualification  .  .  . 
to  be  able  to  adapt  the  means  and  motives  to  the 
peculiarities  of  character  and  opinion  and  pre- 
judices among  them.  And  then  a  large  corps 
of  teachers  must  be  selected  and  made  to  act 
in  unison  or  a  firebrand  will  be  thrown  into  the 
school.  Moreover,  in  most  schools  in  this  coun- 
try it  is  necessary  that  the  principal  exercise  a 
rigid  watchfulness  over  its  pecuniary  interests, 
being  cognizant  of  every  expenditure  and  of  the 


AN   APPRECIATION  413 

smallest  means  of  income ;  the  whole  demand- 
ing no  mean  financial  ability.  Still  further,  in 
schools  dependent  on  public  patronage  the 
principal  is  expected  to  see  to  it  that  the  public 
are  kept  informed  of  its  advantages,  and  their 
attention  favorably  drawn  towards  it.  Now  to 
meet  successfully  these  various  and  compli- 
cated duties  requires  great  versatility  of  powers 
and  much  wisdom  founded  on  experience.  .  .  . 
None  acquainted  with  Miss  Lyon  will  doubt 
that  she  was  eminently  successful  in  her  ad- 
ministration of  several  admirable  schools  of 
wrhich  the  Holyoke  Seminary  was  the  most  ex- 
tensive; yet  was  it  conducted  with  wonderful 
skill  and  success.  My  own  conviction  is  that 
her  talents  for  administration  were  decidedly 
superior  to  her  skill  as  an  instructor  in  science 
or  literature. 

"It  is  in  her  religious  character,  and  there 
alone,  that  we  shall  find  the  secret  and  power- 
ful spring  of  all  the  efforts  of  her  life  which  she 
would  wish  to  have  remembered.  But  I  ap- 
proach this  part  of  her  character  with  a  kind 
of  awe,  as  if  I  were  on  holy  ground,  and  were 
attempting  to  lay  open  that  which  she  would 


414    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

never  wish  revealed.  In  her  ordinary  inter- 
course, so  full  was  she  of  suggestions  and  plans 
on  the  subject  of  education  and  of  her  new 
seminary  that  you  would  not  suspect  how  deep 
and  pure  was  the  fountain  of  piety  in  her  heart ; 
nor  that  from  thence  the  waters  flowed  in  which 
all  her  plans  and  efforts  were  baptized  and  de- 
voted to  God.  But,  as  accidentally,  for  the  last 
thirty  years,  the  motives  of  her  actions  have 
been  brought  to  light,  I  have  been  every  year 
more  deeply  impressed  with  their  Christian 
disinterestedness  and  with  the  entireness  of 
her  consecration  to  God." 

Ex-President  Humphrey  declared  that  he 
had  never  known  a  woman  to  combine  so  much 
physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  power  as  Miss 
Lyon.  "Such  labors  as  she  performed  would 
have  broken  down  almost  any  other  constitu- 
tion years  and  years  ago.  Such  constitutional 
energy  as  she  possessed,  always  in  action,  often 
intense,  would  have  shattered  any  ordinary 
framework,  long  ere  the  meridian  of  life.  Such 
tasks  as  she  imposed  upon  her  brain,  espe- 
cially during  the  three  years  which  she  spent  in 
planning  the  Seminary  and  enlisting  the  neces- 


AN   APPRECIATION  415 

sary  agencies  for  getting  it  up,  would  have  dis- 
organized almost  any  other.  .  .  .  Miss  Lyon's 
mind  was  of  a  high  order ;  clear,  strong,  active, 
well  balanced,  inventive ;  which  no  discourage- 
ment could  depress,  no  obstacle  daunt.  It  is 
very  rare  indeed  to  find  such  mental  strength 
and  such  quenchless  ardor  controlled  by  the 
soundest  discretion  and  the  best  '  round-about 
common  sense.'  One  of  the  strong  proofs  of 
Miss  Lyon's  intellectual  superiority,  which 
must  have  struck  all  who  knew  her,  was  the 
power  which  she  had  to  influence  other  minds. 
.  .  .  But  it  was  the  moral  and  religious  in  Miss 
Lyon's  character  which  eclipsed  all  her  other 
endowments  and  in  which  her  great  strength 
lay.  .  .  .  To  do  the  greatest  possible  good  to 
the  greatest  number  was  her  study  and  delight. 
...  In  humble  imitation  of  her  Saviour  she 
seemed,  wherever  she  went  and  in  all  her  rela- 
tions, to  be  the  very  embodiment  of  love  and 
good-will  to  men ;  and  never  to  have  thought 
of  herself,  of  her  own  ease,  advantage,  or  con- 
venience. It  was  enough  for  her  that  others 
were  made  wiser  and  better  and  happier,  at 
whatever  cost  of  toil  or  sacrifice  to  herself.  She 


416    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

seemed  scarcely  to  know  that  she  had  any  per- 
sonal interests  to  care  for.  ...  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  an  instance  can  be  recollected  by  any 
human  being  since  she  entered  on  her  bright 
career  of  usefulness  in  which  she  appeared  to  be 
actuated  in  the  slightest  degree  by  selfishness." 
It  is  a  woman  of  mighty  stature  that  these 
men  delineate.  From  their  point  of  view  she 
sometimes  made  mistakes  —  "who  does  not ?" 
—  but  they  could  find  in  her  no  moral  blemish. 
Though  she  never  fulminated  against  the  natu- 
ral instincts  of  men,  neither  wish  for  fame  nor 
desire  for  earthly  immortality  drew  her  on.  Her 
contemporary  biographers  acknowledge  that 
they  searched  carefully  for  any  trace  of  these 
motives,  knowing  "that  in  the  lives  of  most 
persons  eminent  for  benevolence  the  little  imp, 
selfishness,  is  not  infrequently  seen  peeping  out 
from  behind  the  cloak  of  benevolence."  They 
looked  in  vain.  Yet  at  any  suggestion  that  she 
was  perfect,  Mr.  Hitchcock  exclaimed  years 
later,  "those  large  eyes  of  hers  would  have 
opened  in  unwonted  amazement ! "  She  worked 
for  the  joy  of  doing,  and  she  never  saw  her  own 
spiritual  beauty. 


AN  APPRECIATION  417 

Preeminently  she  was  a  builder.  Whomever 
and  whatever  her  constructive  personality 
touched,  it  quickened.  Probably  no  woman  has 
laid  a  more  persuasive  hand  on  American  so- 
ciety than  she.  Nor  has  her  influence  been  the 
less  compelling  because  its  results  have  not  al- 
ways been  accredited  to  her.  She  came  upon 
a  democracy  in  the  making,  and  she  left  it  more 
democratic  than  she  found  it.  For  Mary  Lyon 
was  typically  American;  the  national  strain  of 
mingled  idealism,  pluck,  persistence,  and  en- 
ergy rose  in  her  to  high  power.  Her  roots  struck 
deep  into  the  new  world's  history;  her  life  is 
eloquent  of  its  opportunity ;  her  genius  belongs 
to  that  practical  order  which  has  hitherto  mo- 
nopolized the  transcendent  expressions  of  its 
creative  force. 

An  age  makes  no  more  response  than  does 
a  person  to  one  who  is  wholly  out  of  sympathy 
with  it.  She  embodied  the  deep  indwelling 
spirit  of  her  generation,  its  outreach,  its  stir 
of  bourgeoning  life,  its  promise.  Others  have 
articulated  that  spirit  in  other  mediums.  Emer- 
son became  its  voice,  and  between  the  message 
of  Emerson  and  the  practice  of  Mary  Lyon, 


418    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

wide  as  was  often  their  divergence,  runs  a  deep 
independent  parallelism.  Both  interpreted  life 
in  terms  of  love  and  duty.  Both  taught  sincer- 
ity, simplicity,  and  heroism ;  the  value  of  a  hu- 
man soul ;  the  dignity  of  work ;  the  indivisibil- 
ity of  man  and  his  need  of  an  education  that 
shall  make  him  physically,  intellectually,  and 
morally  responsive  to  the  universe.  Both  found 
spiritual  meaning  in  common  things.  Emerson 
would  walk,  work,  speak,  inspired  by  the  di- 
vine ;  Mary  Lyon  knew  with  years  an  ever  deep- 
ening sense  of  God  as  an  abiding  Presence 
which  glorified  alike  her  holiest  communions 
and  the  homeliest  doings  of  her  busy  days.  "I 
have  a  hundred  little  perplexities  and  troubles 
every  day  that  I  should  be  ashamed  to  mention 
even  to  my  mother,  but  I  can  tell  them  all  to 
Christ,  and  never  do  I  carry  one  of  them  to 
Him  but  He  sends  me  away  refreshed  and 
strengthened."  —  "Religion  does  not  seem  to 
me  to  tend  now  to  a  cultus,  as  heretofore,"  said 
Emerson,  "but  to  a  heroic  life."  Mary  Lyon 
lived  it.  One  might  trace  the  parallelism  more 
minutely,  setting  sentence  against  sentence, 
but  such  analysis  is  not  within  the  purpose  of 


AN  APPRECIATION  419 

this  biography.  Emerson  wrote  his  words  on 
paper  and  bound  them  into  books.  Mary  Lyon 
gathered  girls  about  her,  and  having  filled  their 
souls  full  of  her  thoughts,  she  sent  them  out  to 
live,  and  by  their  living  spread  them. 

More  than  three  thousand  students  trans- 
mitted her  influence  to  the  rising  currents  of 
the  American  enterprise,  and  the  overwhelm- 
ing majority  became  active  centres  for  the  dis- 
semination of  her  spirit.  Wherever  they  went 
-  north,  south,  east,  west ;  into  the  farthest 
corners  of  the  globe  —  they  lived  by  her,  talked 
about  her,  quoted  her,  as  is  the  wont  of  people 
who  have  experienced  a  great  phenomenon  of 
nature  or  humanity.  Recollection  of  her  held 
them  steady  when  they  were  tempted  in  cow- 
ardice to  shirk  some  untried  issue  of  a  later  day. 
What  they  had  gained  from  her  they  passed  on 
in  home  and  in  school  to  newer  generations. 
Girls  went  out  from  her  presence  to  mother 
leaders  of  American  life,  among  them  a  presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  and  to  stamp  on 
thousands  of  sons  and  daughters  the  under- 
standing that  citizenship  requires  service.  Pop- 
ular education  in  every  grade  of  advancement 


420    THE  LIFE  OF   MARY  LYON 

felt  the  quickening  impulse  of  the  teachers  she 
had  trained,  women  who  believed  nothing 
more  strongly  than  that  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  all  useful  living  is  to  get  right  moral 
direction.  People  who  spread  themselves  over 
too  much  ground  seldom  make  lasting  con- 
quests. Mary  Lyon  focused  her  energy  at  one 
point,  the  higher  education  of  women ;  yet  her 
wealthy  life  fed  more  streams  than  it  is  possible 
to  trace.  Many  a  later  movement  of  national 
and  world  significance  has  been  forwarded  by 
men  and  women  who  bore  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctly the  imprint  of  her  personality. 

Had  she  done  this  alone,  she  would  have  held 
a  place  among  the  most  notable  of  American 
educators.  Mark  Hopkins  defined  the  differ- 
ence between  a  skillful  professor  and  a  true 
educator:  The  true  educator's  most  necessary 
quality  is  not  talent  but  influence;  only  when 
education  seeks  to  make  man  what  he  ought  to 
be,  does  it  cease  to  be  a  useful  art  and  become  a 
power  which  moulds  human  society.  But  Mary 
Lyon  did  more  than  react  upon  things  as  they 
were  through  the  ennobling  of  individual  char- 
acter. She  dealt  with  a  trend  of  social  evolution, 


AN  APPRECIATION  421 

and  she  dealt  knowingly.  It  is  her  distinction  to 
have  made  clear  and  unmistakable  application 
to  women's  education  of  principles  long  reg- 
nant over  that  of  the  other  half  of  humanity. 
Since  her  day  founders  have  furthered  this 
application;  the  fact  remains  that  in  Mount 
Holyoke  she  first  formulated  the  proposition 
of  the  woman's  college,  a  permanent  plant  for 
the  higher  education  of  a  nation's  daughters. 
What  name  it  bore  matters  little;  a  name  cannot 
conceal  identity.  In  1868  a  committee  from  the 
Senate  of  Massachusetts,  recommending  a  grant 
of  forty  thousand  dollars  to  Mount  Holyoke, 
reported  upon  Mary  Lyon's  aim:  "Her  ob- 
ject was  to  establish  a  female  seminary  which 
should  be  in  every  respect  on  a  par  with  our  best 
colleges."  Four  years  earlier  another  Senate 
document  declared:  "This  institution,  as  ap- 
pears in  the  foregoing,  is  organized  and  carried 
on  upon  the  broad  basis  of  a  college,  —  a  col- 
lege for  girls."  And  because  she  gave  form  to 
tendencies  of  what  in  the  mass  men  call  civiliza- 
tion, history  will  rank  her  in  its  final  reckoning 
as  a  profound  practical  sociologist. 

A  pioneer  is  seldom  isolated.   He  is  but  the 


422    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

audible  exponent  of  the  inarticulate  gropings 
of  many  minds.  Mary  Lyon  did  not  create  the 
demand  for  the  higher  education  of  women; 
she  was  not  even  the  first  to  voice  it.  But  from 
her  shaping  hands  that  education  took  indi- 
vertible direction.  With  her  ear  pressed  close  to 
the  age,  she  heard  the  marching  feet  of  the  fu- 
ture. Women  were  face  to  face  with  a  new  era, 
and  she  sought  to  prepare  them  nobly  to  meet 
it.  In  so  doing,  by  the  law  of  life  she  built  on 
what  had  gone  before.  Yet  ske  built  so  differ- 
ently as  to  mark  a  beginning  and  not  a  consum- 
mation. It  is  the  way  of  genius  to  fashion  the 
new  out  of  the  old. 

An  investigator  into  the  feminine  educational 
history  of  the  United  States  cannot  fail  to  be 
struck  by  its  evolutionary  trend.  The  college 
movement  began  as  an  offshoot  from  a  semi- 
nary movement,  previously  initiated,  which  is 
still  active,  each  having  defined  itself  more  ac- 
curately with  time.  Despite  a  few  outstanding 
exceptions,  the  seminary  movement,  whatever 
names  it  may  employ,  has  continued  essentially 
private,  a  business  development.  Mount  Hoi- 
yoke  marked  the  initial  appearance  of  the  new 


AN   APPRECIATION  423 

species.  While  resembling  the  root-stock,  it  was 
yet  as  alien  from  the  seminary  in  tendency  as 
was  the  first  man  from  his  prehensile  prototype ; 
a  creature  of  higher  potentialities — another. 
Mary  Lyon  was  right  in  prophesying  that  the 
second  and  third  foundations  would  come  eas- 
ier than  the  first.  She  was  right  in  saying  that 
Mount  Holyoke  might  have  to  struggle  under 
financial  embarrassments  for  years.  She  was 
right,  too,  in  her  declaration  that  its  influence 
would  be  felt.  When  a  person  has  beliefs  which 
he  is  willing  to  put  into  practice  without  hag- 
gling over  the  price,  the  effect  is  irresistible. 

Mount  Holyoke  became  localized  only  be- 
cause it  was  first  an  idea  in  a  woman's  head, 
an  idea  that  she  wanted  to  have  get  to  work  in 
human  society.  As  she  had  intended,  the  cam- 
paign for  its  founding  stimulated  thought  on 
the  subject  of  women's  education  which  was 
far-reaching  in  effect,  and  its  success  helped  to 
destroy  skepticism  in  a  region  of  commanding 
scholastic  influence.  The  pioneer  service  which 
Mount  Holyoke  rendered  during  its  first  half- 
century  of  life  President  Seelye  of  Smith  epit- 
omized in  his  semicentennial  greeting.  Un- 


424    THE  LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

able  to  be  present,  he  wrote :  "  I  should  like  at 
least  to  testify  to  the  obligation  which  our 
higher  schools  for  women  are  under  to  Mary 
Lyon  and  to  the  institution  which  she  founded. 
Most  of  them  owe  their  very  existence  to 
Mount  Holyoke  Seminary ;  all  of  them  are  un- 
speakably indebted  to  the  work  which  it  has 
accomplished  in  the  past  fifty  years  in  provid- 
ing better  and  more  abundant  material  for 
their  work,  in  educating  so  many  accomplished 
and  self-sacrificing  teachers,  and  in  giving  so 
clear  and  forcible  expression  to  the  truth  that 
intelligence  is  as  valuable  in  a  woman's  mind 
as  it  is  in  a  man's  and  is  as  capable  and  as 
worthy  of  the  highest  cultivation." 

Elmira  College  was  founded  in  1855.  But 
the  full  flowering  of  collegiate  education  for 
women  awaited  ampler  fortunes.  In  1861, 
when  Matthew  Vassar  placed  four  hundred 
thousand  dollars  in  the  holding  of  trustees  for 
the  establishment  of  Vassar,  he  said:  "It  was 
also  in  evidence  that  for  the  last  thirty  years 
the  standard  of  education  for  the  sex  has  been 
constantly  rising  in  the  United  States ;  and  the 
great,  felt,  pressing  want  has  been  ample  en- 


AN  APPRECIATION  425 

dowments  to  secure  to  female  seminaries  the 
elevated  character,  the  stability  and  perma- 
nency of  our  best  colleges.  ...  In  pursuance 
of  this  design  I  have  obtained  from  the  legis- 
lature an  act  of  incorporation  conferring  on 
the  proposed  seminary  the  corporate  title  of 
Vassar  Female  College."  At  its  opening  in 
1865  the  requisite  age  was  placed  at  fifteen 
and  a  provisional  course  was  instituted.  Wide 
diversity  in  preparation  divided  students  into 
" collegiates "  and  "preparatories."  "Candi- 
dates for  the  first  year  of  the  regular  course  are 
examined  to  a  certain  extent  in  Latin,  French, 
and  Algebra,"  remarks  the  chronicler  of  those 
experimental,  history-making  years. 

Smith  and  Wellesley,  commencing  in  the 
next  decade,  found  themselves  also  in  a  posi- 
tion to  set  standards.  Smith  was  the  first  of 
women's  schools  to  start  as  a  pure  college,  hav- 
ing at  once  a  full  collegiate  curriculum  and  no 
preparatory  department.  "The  requirements 
for  admission  will  be  substantially  the  same  as 
at  Harvard,  Yale,  Brown,  Amherst,  and  other 
New-England  Colleges,"  announced  the  pro- 
spectus, If  inasmuch  as  the  High  Schools  and 


426    THE   LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

most  of  the  Academies  wisely  furnish  the  same 
preparatory  instruction  to  both  sexes."  Promi- 
nent among  the  trustees  of  Smith  were  men 
who,  having  known  Mary  Lyon  or  her  work, 
looked  to  Mount  Holyoke  as  to  "  the  germ  of 
all  the  women's  colleges."  In  founding  Welles- 
ley  Mr.  Durant,  one  of  the  Holyoke  trustees, 
avowed  an  intent  to  duplicate  Mount  Holyoke 
in  spirit  and  aim.  Fashioning  the  details  of  his 
plan  in  accordance  with  such  modifications  of 
the  pattern  as  were  called  for  by  the  times,  his 
thought  inevitably  turned  from  the  word  semi- 
nary to  "college,"  and  he  urged  that  Mount 
Holyoke  also  change  its  name. 

Nor  did  Holyoke-trained  women  fail  in  their 
teaching  to  cooperate  with  the  future.  Let 
them  cultivate  that  part  of  their  nature  which 
would  make  them  love  permanence,  Miss  Lyon 
used  to  urge  upon  her  students,  together  with 
an  injunction  to  adapt  their  schools,  if  they 
taught,  to  the  real  needs  of  the  constituency 
served.  Of  the  American  educational  concerns 
taking  immediate  departure  from  her  influence, 
Lake  Erie,  Mills,  and  The  Western  have  al- 
ready attained  collegiate  rank.  But  the  impetus 


AN  APPRECIATION  427 

which  the  founding  of  Mount  Holyoke  gave  to 
the  education  of  women  was  also  world-wide 
in  its  expression ;  and  the  institutions  of  higher 
learning  that  look  directly  to  Mary  Lyon  for 
their  inspiration  put  a  girdle  round  the  earth, 
from  America  to  Japan  and  from  South  Africa 
to  Spain. 

There  can  be  nothing  rigid  about  the  higher 
education,  whether  of  women  or  of  men.  For 
so  long  as  education  would  serve  humanity,  its 
forms  must  continue  to  be  garments  of  an  end- 
less growth,  witnessing  continual  adjustment 
to  the  enlarging  life  and  thought  of  the  world. 
Her  own  share  in  securing  this  adjustment 
Mary  Lyon  characterized  with  instinctive  ac- 
curacy when  she  said  at  Ipswich,  that  she 
should  ask  for  nothing  more  than  "to  labor  in 
the  portico  and  spend  her  days  in  clearing  the 
ground"  for  that  which  was  to  come. 

Yet  there  she  did  her  work  so  well,  enunci- 
ating so  clearly  the  principles  which  have  gov- 
erned the  development  of  colleges  for  women, 
that  later  comment  has  been  but  amplified  re- 
iteration. In  her  emphasis  on  student  maturity, 
definition  of  entrance  requirement,  solidity  of 


428    THE   LIFE   OF   MARY  LYON 

curriculum,  integrity  of  work,  better  equip- 
ment, and  public  ownership,  she  made  sure 
provision  for  the  expansion  that  has  come  with 
time.  Most  organizers  have  followed  her  lead 
in  stressing  the  worth  of  community  life,  and 
in  making  dormitory  accommodation  for  girls. 
Preparatory  departments  have  slipped  out  of 
college  catalogues.  And  to-day  the  latest 
thought  is  swinging  back  to  her  strong  accent 
on  the  value  of  personal  influence  in  the  devel- 
opment of  useful  women. 

More  than  seventy  years  ago  she  summed 
in  forecast  what  might  be  expected  as  the  fruit 
of  this  phase  of  her  life.  Referring  to  the  cha- 
otic state  of  women's  education  in  the  thirties, 
she  said :  "  We  cannot  hope  for  a  state  of  things 
essentially  better,  till  the  principle  is  admitted 
that  female  seminaries  designed  for  the  public 
benefit  must  be  founded  by  the  hand  of  public 
benevolence  and  be  subject  to  the  rules  en- 
joined by  such  benevolence.  Let  this  principle 
be  fully  admitted  and  let  it  have  sufficient  time 
to  produce  its  natural  effects,  and  it  will  be 
productive  of  more  important  results  than  can 
be  easily  estimated.  Then  our  large  seminaries 


AN  APPRECIATION  429 

may  be  permanent,  with  all  the  mutual  respon- 
sibility and  cooperation  which  the  principle  of 
permanency  produces.  Then,  if  'the  teacher 
makes  the  school,'  there  will  be  a  school  which 
will  find  the  teacher.  Then  each  public  semi- 
nary may  be  a  central  point  around  which 
several  smaller  and  more  private  schools  may 
cluster,  and  to  which  they  may  look  for  influ- 
ence, for  guidance,  and  for  a  supply  of  teachers. 
There  will  then  be  laid  a  broad  and  sure  foun- 
dation for  system,  improvement,  and  elevation 
in  female  education.  May  we  not  hope  that 
this  state  of  things  is  not  far  distant  ?  .  .  .  Per- 
haps the  influence  which  this  seminary  exerts 
in  this  respect  will  be  more  important  in  its 
results  than  all  its  other  influence." 

Thus  she  moved,  an  epic  figure,  through 
what  Professer  Tyler  termed  the  heroic  age  of 
the  higher  education  of  women.  For  Mary 
Lyon's  life  is  a  heritage  that  Mount  Holyoke 
cannot  claim  alone.  Her  nature  sounded  a 
trumpet-call  to  her  generation,  and  men  and 
women  rallied  to  her  faith  in  them.  Out  of  their 
noblest  selves,  their  hopes,  toils,  sacrifices,  as- 
pirations, she  built  a  new  institution  into  the 


430    THE  LIFE   OF  MARY  LYON 

forces  of  American  democracy.  It  was  at  the 
point  in  history  where  she  stood  that,  with 
Archimedean  purpose,  she  applied  her  lever; 
so  should  men  and  women  together  lift  the 
wide  earth  up  to  God. 


APPENDIX 


APPENDIX 

A.  CHRONOLOGY  OF  MARY  LYON'S  LIFE 

1797     February  28.  Born  in  Buckland,  Mass. 

1802     December  21.  Death  of  father,  Aaron  Lyon. 

1810     Mother  remarried  and  went  to  live  in  Ashfield. 

1814  Taught  in  Shelburne  Falls,  —  first  of  seven  con- 
secutive summers  of  district-school  teaching  in 
and  about  Buckland. 

1817  Fall  and  winter,  student  at  Ashfield  Academy. 

1818  Autumn  term,  student  at  Amherst  Academy. 

Winter,  taught  district  school. 

1819  Brother  moved  to  Western  New  York.  —  Spring, 

"  family  school "  in  Buckland ;  autumn,  "  select 
school"  in  Buckland;  winter,  district  school. 

1820  Fall  or  winter,  student  at  Ashfield  Academy. 

1821  Summer,  student  at  Byfield  Seminary  under  Jo- 

seph Emerson.    Winter,  taught  in  Sanderson 
Academy,  Ashfield. 

1822  March.    Joined  Congregational  Church  of  Buck- 

land.  —  Spring,  fall,  and  winter  terms,  assist- 
ant in  Sanderson  Academy. 

1823  Summer,  taught  in  Conway  and  studied  science 

with  Rev.  Edward  Hitchcock.  Fall  and  winter 
terms,  assistant  in  Sanderson  Academy. 

1824  Attended  lectures  at  Amherst  College.  —  Taught 

in  Adams  Academy,  Londonderry,  N.  H.,  the 


434  APPENDIX 

first  of  four  summers.  Winter,  school  for  girls 
in  Buckland. 

1825  Spring,    attended    lectures    at    the    Rensselaer 

School,  Troy,  New  York.  —  Winter,  assistant 
in  Sanderson  Academy,  preceptress  of  girls' 
school  in  Buckland.1 

1826  to  1828     Winters,  preceptress  of  Sanderson  Acad- 

emy, Ashfield,  Mass. 
1828  to  1830     Ipswich  Seminary  in  summer;  "select 

school"  at  Buckland  in  winter. 
1830  to  1834    Assistant-principal  of  Ipswich  Seminary. 

Efforts  for  endowment  of  the  seminary. 

1832  Death  of  sisters:  Rosina,  August  18;  Lovina, 

September  18. 

1833  Summer    of    travel    through    Middle    Atlantic 

States  and  the  West. 

1834  to  1837     Founding  of  Mount  Holyoke. 

1834  Circular  to  friends  and  patrons  of  Ipswich  Sem- 

inary. —  September  6,  first  meeting  of  men  held 
at  Ipswich.  —  Raising  of  initial  $1,000.  —  Win- 
ter spent  at  Professor  Hitchcock's  "  in  the  pro- 
secution of  science." 

1835  January   8,  location   chosen.    April,   name   se- 

lected.—  Opening  of  Wheaton  Seminary. 

1836  February  11,  Mount  Holyoke  chartered.  —  Oc- 

tober 3,  corner-stone  laid. 

1837  November  8,  Mount  Holyoke  opened. 
1837  to  1849     Principal  of  Mount  Holyoke. 
1839     February.    Death  of  sister,  Jemima. 

1  See  Historical  Address  of  Sanderson  Academy  and  Hitchcock 
Memoir.  May  we  explain  the  apparent  discrepancy  by  supposing 
that  she  taught  a  few  weeks  in  Sanderson  Academy  before  her  Buck- 
land  school  began  ? 


APPENDIX  435 

1840  to  1841     Main  building  extended  and  south  wing 
built.  —  Death  of  youngest  sister.  —  Mother's 
death.  —  Trip  to  Niagara  and  Ohio. 
1843     Wrote  "A  Missionary  Offering." 
1849    March  5,  died  at  South  Hadley,  Mass. 


B.  FIRST  CHARTER  OF  MOUNT  HOLYOKE 

COMMONWEALTH   OF  MASSACHUSETTS 

In  the  Year  of  Our  Lord  One  Thousand  Eight  Hundred 
and  Thirty-Six 

An  Act  to  incorporate  Mount-Holyoke  Female  Seminary. 

BE  it  enacted  by  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representa- 
tives in  General  Court  assembled  and  by  the  authority 
of  the  same,  that  William  Bowdoin,  John  Todd,  Joseph 
D.  Condit,  David  Choate,  and  Samuel  Williston,  their 
associates  and  successors  be  and  are  hereby  incorporated 
by  the  name  of  the  Trustees  of  Mount-Holyoke  Female 
Seminary,  to  be  established  in  South-Hadley  in  the 
County  of  Hampshire,  with  the  powers  and  privileges 
and  subject  to  the  duties  and  liabilities  provided  in 
"  Chapter  forty-fourth  of  the  Revised  Statutes  passed 
November  fourth  in  the  year  one  thousand  eight  hun- 
dred and  thirty-five,"  and  with  power  to  hold  real  and 
personal  estate  not  exceeding  in  value  one  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars,  to  be  devoted  exclusively  to  the  purposes 
of  education. 

HOUSE  OF  REPS.  Feb :  10,  1836. 
Passed  to  be  enacted.  JULIUS  ROCKWELL,  Speaker. 

IN  SENATE  Feb  :  10,  1836. 
Passed  to  be  enacted.    HORACE  MANN,  President. 


EDWARD  EVERETT. 


C.  COURSE  OF  STUDY 

(From  the  Catalogue  of  1837-1838.) 

COURSE  OF  STUDY  AND  INSTRUCTION 

There  is  an  extensive  and  systematic  English  course  of  study 
pursued  in  the  Seminary  in  three  regular  classes,  denominated 
Junior,  Middle  and  Senior.  The  studies  of  each  class  are  de- 
signed for  one  year,  though  the  pupils  will  be  advanced  from 
class  to  class  according  to  their  progress,  and  not  according  to 
the  time  spent  in  the  Institution.  In  some  cases,  individuals 
may  devote  a  part  of  their  time  to  branches  not  included  in  the 
regular  course,  (Latin  for  instance)  and  occupy  a  longer  period 
in  completing  the  studies  of  one  class. 

PREPARATORY  STUDIES 

The  requisites  for  entering  the  Junior  class  are,  an  acquaint- 
ance with  the  general  principles  of  English  Grammar,  a  good 
knowledge  of  Modern  Geography,  History  of  the  United  States, 
Watts  on  the  Mind,  Colburn's  First  Lessons,  and  the  whole  of 
Adams's  New  Arithmetic,  or  what  would  be  equivalent  in  Writ- 
ten Arithmetic.  These  branches  are  to  be  required  of  candi- 
dates for  admission  to  the  Seminary. 

STUDIES  OF  THE  JUNIOR  CLASS 

English  Grammar,  Ancient  Geography,  Ancient  and  Modern 
History,  Sullivan's  Political  Class  Book,  Botany,  Newman's 
Rhetoric,  Euclid,  Human  Physiology. 


438  APPENDIX 

STUDIES  OF  THE  MIDDLE  CLASS 

English  Grammar  continued,  Algebra,  Botany  continued, 
Natural  Philosophy,  Smellie's  Philosophy  of  Natural  History, 
Intellectual  Philosophy. 

STUDIES  OF  THE  SENIOR  CLASS 
Chemistry,  Astronomy,  Geology,  Ecclesiastical  History,  Evi- 
dences of  Christianity,  Whately's  Logic,  Whately's  Rhetoric, 
Moral  Philosophy,  Natural  Theology,  Butler's  Analogy. 

The  above  is  the  course,  as  pursued  in  the  Seminary  the  pre- 
sent year.  To  the  studies  of  the  Senior  class,  there  will  probably 
be  added,  hereafter,  two  or  three  branches,  and  something  will 
be  taken  from  the  present  list,  and  added  to  those  of  the  two  pre- 
ceding classes.  On  this  account,  it  will  be  more  important,  that 
the  preparation  to  enter  the  Junior  class  should  be  full  and 
thorough. 

CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  PUPILS 

None  can  be  admitted  to  the  Junior  class  without  passing  a 
good  examination  on  all  the  preparatory  studies,  whatever  may 
be  their  attainments  in  other  branches.  But  individuals  may  be 
admitted  to  the  Middle  and  Senior  classes,  by  passing  a  good 
examination  on  the  preparatory  studies,  and  on  such  branches 
of  the  regular  course  as  shall  be  equivalent  to  a  full  prepara- 
tion. 

(From  the  Catalogue  of  1848-1849.) 

STUDIES  REQUIRED  FOR  ADMISSION  TO  THE 
SEMINARY 

A  good  knowledge  of  Wells'  English  Grammar,  with  an  abil- 
ity to  apply  the  principles  in  analyzing  and  parsing,  and  of  Mod- 


APPENDIX  439 

ern  Geography,  and  a  readiness  in  Mental  Arithmetic,  (such  as 
Colburn's  First  Lessons,)  that  is,  an  ability  to  give  a  correct 
answer  to  the  questions  as  they  are  read  by  the  teacher,  and  to 
give  an  account  of  all  the  steps  of  the  mental  process,  —  also  a 
good  knowledge  of  common  Arithmetic,  including  all  the  more 
difficult  rules.  In  the  examination  of  Arithmetic,  a  list  of  ques- 
tions taken  from  different  authors  is  used.  It  is  recommended 
that  candidates  for  admission  go  through  two  or  three  different 
authors,  so  as  thus  to  gain  more  mathematical  discipline,  and 
be  better  prepared  for  examination.  Adams's  New  Arithmetic 
and  Greenleaf's  are  particularly  recommended.  A  good  know- 
ledge of  Mitchell's  Ancient  Geography,  of  Andrews  and  Stod- 
dard's  Latin  Grammar,  and  Andrews's  Latin  Reader,  of  the 
History  of  the  United  States,  and  of  Watts  on  the  Mind,  is  also 
required. 

EXCEPTIONS 

[This  entry  appears  in  a  few  catalogues  after  the  announcement 
of  advanced  entrance  requirements.] 

In  some  special  cases,  Latin  and  Ancient  Geography  may 
be  deferred  till  after  admission  to  the  Seminary,  and  two  years 
be  spent  in  the  Junior  Class  to  make  up  the  deficiency. 

STUDIES  OF  THE  JUNIOR  CLASS 

Review  of  English  Grammar,  Latin  (Cornelius  Nepos), 
History  (Worcester's  Elements,  Goldsmith's  Greece,  Rome  and 
England,  and  Grimshaw's  France),  Day's  Algebra,  Playfair's 
Euclid  (old  edition),  and  Wood's  Botany  commenced;  also 
Smellie's  Philosophy  of  Natural  History,1  and  Marsh's  Eccle- 
siastical History.1 

1  Not  strictly  required  of  those  who  have  a  good  knowledge  of 
Latin. 


440  APPENDIX 

STUDIES  OF  THE  MIDDLE  CLASS 

Latin,  Cutter's  Physiology,  Silliman's  Chemistry,  Olmsted's 
Natural  Philosophy,  Olmsted's  Astronomy,  Wood's  Botany 
continued,  Newman's  Rhetoric;  also,  Alexander's  Evidences 
of  Christianity.1 

STUDIES  OF  THE  SENIOR  CLASS 

Playfair's  Euclid  finished,  Wood's  Botany  continued,  Hitch- 
cock's Geology,  Paley's  Natural  Theology,  Upham's  Mental 
Philosophy  in  two  volumes,  Whately's  Logic,  Wayland's 
Moral  Philosophy,  Butler's  Analogy  1  and  Milton's  Paradise 
Lost.1 

All  the  members  of  the  school  attend  regularly  to  composi- 
tion, reading  and  calisthenics.  Instruction  is  given  in  vocal 
music,  in  linear  and  perspective  drawing,  and  in  French.  Those 
who  have  attended  to  instrumental  music,  can  have  the  use  of 
a  piano  a  few  hours  in  each  week. 


It  is  expected  as  a  general  rule,  that  all  who  enter  the  Semi- 
nary will  pursue  the  branches  of  the  regular  course  in  order, 
taking  the  required  Latin  in  its  place,  whether  they  can  go 
through  the  whole  course  or  not.  Still  there  may  be  exceptions 
to  this  rule  in  favor  of  those  who  can  spend  but  one  year  in 
the  Institution,  who  have  not  made  great  advance  in  the  English 
branches,  and  who  with  this  one  year  are  to  finish  their  school 
education.  It  is  believed,  however,  that  there  is  no  occasion 
for  extending  this  exception  to  the  younger  class  of  applicants, 
who  expect  thus  to  finish  their  education  in  one  year.  Such, 

1  Not  strictly  required  of  those  who  have  a  good  knowledge  of 
Latin. 


APPENDIX  441 

if  they  cannot  defer  this  last  year  of  their  pupilage  till  they  have 
more  age,  will  gain  as  much  or  more  benefit  at  some  other 
•school,  where  their  studies  will  not  be  encumbered  and  re- 
stricted by  a  regular  system.  No  pledge  is  required  for  a  con- 
tinuance in  the  Seminary  for  more  than  a  year.  A  commencing 
of  the  regular  course  in  order,  is  all  that  is  expected.  All  enter 
the  Institution,  only  for  one  year  at  first.  The  question  of 
returning  the  second  is  left  for  future  decision. 


D.  EARLIEST  FORM  OF  DIPLOMA 
MOUNT  HOLYOKE  FEMALE  SEMINARY 

This  certifies  that  Miss has  completed  the  prescribed 

course  of  study  at  this  Seminary  and  by  her  proficiency  and 
correct  deportment  merits  this  testimonial  of  approbation. 

In  testimony  whereof  the  trustees  affix  their  seal  at  South 
Hadley,  Massachusetts,  this  fourth  day  of  August  in  the  year 
of  our  Lord  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  forty-two. 

MARY  LYON,  PRINCIPAL 
By  order  of  the  Trustees, 

Secretary,  JOSEPH  D.  CONDIT 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

THIS  list  of  the  most  important  printed  material  upon 
which  the  biography  is  based,  excludes  all  summaries  in 
the  form  of  books  and  magazine  articles  dealing  with 
the  progress  of  education,  together  with  appreciations  of 
Miss  Lyon's  life  and  work,  which  have  not  resulted  from 
first-hand  knowledge  either  of  the  events  themselves  or 
of  documentary  evidence.  The  only  exception  to  the 
first  ruling  is  to  be  found  in  the  citation  of  publications 
issued  by  the  United  States  Bureau  of  Education  and 
by  Columbia  University,  —  these  volumes  being  under- 
stood as  embodying  authentic  information  furnished  by 
the  institutions  described,  or  gained  from  careful  study 
of  original  sources.  Newspaper  references  are  not  cov- 
ered by  this  bibliography.  Nor  does  it  account  for  a 
mass  of  manuscript  material  in  the  Mount  Holyoke 
College  archives  and  elsewhere. 

I.     MARY  LYON 

A.     Written  by  Mary  Lyon. 

To  the  friends  and  patrons  of  Ipswich  Female 
Seminary.  [Spring,  1834.]  Reprinted  with  report  of 
meeting  on  Sept.  6.  Joseph  B.  Felt,  scribe,  Ipswich, 
Mass.,  Sept.  8,  1834. 

Circular. 


444  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Mount  Holyoke  Female  Seminary,  South  Hadley, 
1835. 
Prospectus. 

[Circular  letter.]  South  Hadley,  n.  d. 

General  View  of  the  principles  and  design  of 
Mount  Holyoke  Female  Seminary.  [South  Hadley, 
Mass.,  May,  1837.] 

Female  Education.  Tendencies  of  the  principles 
embraced  and  the  system  adopted  in  the  Mount 
Holyoke  Female  Seminary.  [South  Hadley,  Mass., 
June,  1839.] 

Preparation  for  admission.  [South  Hadley,  Sept., 
1840.] 

Circular. 

[Circular  to]  Candidates  for  Mount  Holyoke 
Female  Seminary,  n.  d. 

A  Missionary  Offering.   Boston,  1843. 

B.  Written  about  Mary  Lyon. 

FISK,  FIDELIA.  Recollections  of  Mary  Lyon. 
Boston,  1866. 

HITCHCOCK,  EDWARD.  A  Chapter  in  the  Book 
of  Providence. 

Anniversary  Address.   Mount  Holyoke,  1849. 

.  Power  of  Christian  benevolence  illus- 
trated in  the  life  and  labors  of  Mary  Lyon.  North- 
ampton, 1851. 

.   [The  Same.]  A  new  edition,  abridged 

and  in  some  parts  enlarged,  by  Mrs.  Eunice  Cald- 
well  Cowles.  New  York,  1858. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  445 

HUMPHREY,  HEMAN.  The  Shining  Path;  A  Ser- 
mon preached  in  South  Hadleyat  the  funeral  of 
Miss  Mary  Lyon,  March  8,  1849. 

Mount  Holyoke  Female  Seminary,  Memorial. 
Twenty-fifth  Anniversary.  1862. 

Address  by  E.  N.  KIRK,  and  reminiscences  by  RTJFUS 
ANDERSON,  DAVID  CHOATE,  JOEL  HAWES,  EDWARD 
HITCHCOCK,  THOMAS  LAURIE. 

STOW,  SARAH  D.  LOCKE.  History  of  Mount 
Holyoke  Seminary  during  its  first  half-century.  1887. 

SOULE,  ANNAH  MAY.  MS.  notes  on  similarities  in 
the  teaching  of  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  and  Mary 
Lyon. 


II.    EDUCATION 

ABBOT  ACADEMY.  McKeen,  Philena  and  Phebe. 
History  of  Abbot  Academy.  Andover,  Mass,  1880. 

ADAMS  ACADEMY. 

See  DERRY  AND  IPSWICH  SCHOOLS. 

American  Annals  of  Education  and  Instruction  for 
the  year  1836.  William  C.  Woodbridge,  editor. 

American  Journal  of  Education  (Barnard's). 

BALDWIN,  THERON. 
See  Monticello  Seminary. 

BANISTER,  MRS.   [Z.  P.  GRANT.]    Hints  on  Edu- 
cation.   Boston,  1856. 

.    Use  of  a  Life.   A  Memorial,  by  L. 

T.  Guilford.   New  York,  1885. 


446  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

BEECHER,  CATHARINE  E.  Suggestions  respecting 
improvements  in  education,  presented  to  the  trustees 
of  the  Hartford  Female  Seminary.  1829. 

.   Educational  reminiscences  and  sug- 
gestions.  New  York,  1874. 

BUCKLAND  FEMALE  SCHOOL.  Catalogue  of  the 
teachers  and  pupils  for  the  term  ending  March  2, 
1830. 

BUSH,  G.  G.  History  of  higher  education  in 
Massachusetts.  United  States  Bureau  of  Education : 
Circular  of  Information,  No.  6,  1891. 

College  Curriculum. 

See  SNOW,  Louis  FRANKLIN. 

DANA,  DANIEL.   Hints  on  reading. 
Address  delivered  in  the  Ipswich  Female  Seminary, 
Jan.  15,  1834. 

DERBY  AND  IPSWICH  SCHOOLS.  Catalogues  of  the 
officers  and  members  of  the  Adams  Female  Acad- 
emy. 1824,  1825,  1826. 

.  Catalogues  of  the  officers  and  mem- 
bers of  the  Ipswich  Female  Academy.   1828,  1829. 

.   Catalogues  of  the  officers  and  mem- 
bers of  the  Ipswich  Female  Seminary.   1830-1836. 

.  Catalogues  of  the  officers  and  mem- 
bers of  the  seminary  for  female  teachers  at  Ipswich, 
Mass.   1837-1839. 

.  Ipswich  Female  Seminary.  Maxims 


for  teachers,   n.  d. 
Pamphlet. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  447 

— .   The  Passing  of  Ipswich  Seminary 
Monticello  Seminary.   Echo,  No.  20. 

DICKINSON,  EMILY,  Letters:  edited  by  Mabel 
Loomis  Todd.  Vol.  I.  Boston,  1894. 

DWIGHT,  TIMOTHY.  Travels  in  New  England  and 
New  York.  New  Haven,  4  vols.  1821-1822. 

EMERSON,  JOSEPH.  Catalogue  of  the  members  of 
the  female  seminary  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Emerson, 
commenced  at  Byfield  and  continued  at  Saugus,  near 
Boston.  1818-1822. 

.    Prospectus  of  the  female  seminary 

at  Wethersfield,  Ct.,  comprising  a  general  prospec- 
tus, course  of  instruction,  maxims  of  education,  and 
regulations  of  the  seminary;  with  notes  relating  to 
books,  branches  of  literature,  methods  of  instruc- 
tion, etc.,  etc.    1826. 

— .  Recitation  lectures  upon  the  acquisi- 
tion and  communication  of  thought.   1826. 

— .  Letter  to  a  class  of  young  ladies  upon 
the  study  of  the  history  of  the  United  States.  1828. 

.    Life  of.    Emerson,  Ralph.    Boston, 

1834. 

EMMA  WILLARD  SCHOOL.  Catalogues  of  the  officers 
and  pupils  of  the  Troy  Female  Seminary.  1843- 
1864. 

.    Annual   catalogue    of    the    Emma 

Willard  School.  1895-1896. 

.  [Circular  sent  to  the  citizens  of  Troy 

in  1871.] 
See  also  WILLARD,  EMMA. 


448  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

FAIRCHILD,  JAMES  H. 
See  OBERLIN  COLLEGE. 

GEORGIA,   EDUCATION  IN. 
See  JONES,  CHARLES  E. 

GUILFORD,  L.  T. 
See  BANISTER,  MRS. 

IPSWICH  SEMINARY. 

See  DERRY  AND  IPSWICH  SCHOOLS. 

JONES,  CHARLES  EDGEWORTH.  Education  in 
Georgia. 

United  States  Bureau  of  Education:  Circular  of  Infor- 
mation, No.  4,  1888. 

LARCOM,  LUCY  A. 
See  WHEATON  SEMINARY. 

LITCHFIELD  SCHOOL.  E.  N.  Vanderpoel,  com- 
piler. Chronicles  of  a  pioneer  school  from  1792- 
1833,  being  the  history  of  Miss  Sarah  Pierce  and  of 
her  Litchfield  school.  Edited  by  Elizabeth  C.  Barney 
Buel.  Cambridge,  1903. 

LORD,  JOHN. 

See  WILLARD,  EMMA. 

LOSSING,  BENSON  J. 
See  VASSAR  COLLEGE. 

MASSACHUSETTS,  EDUCATION  IN. 
See  BUSH,  G.  G. 

MONTICELLO  SEMINARY.  Theron  Baldwin.  His- 
torical address.  Echo,  No.  15. 

MOUNT  HOLYOKE  COLLEGE.  Address  to  the 
Christian  public.  Northampton,  June  15,  1835. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  449 

Circular  signed  by  JOHN  TODD,  JOSEPH  PENNEY,  and 
ROSWELL  HAWKS. 

.    General  view  of  the  principles  and 

design  of  the  Mount  Holyoke  Female  Seminary. 

In  Religious  Magazine  and  Family  Miscellany;  New 
Series,  vol.  i,  pp.  184-189.  1837. 

.    Prospectus  of  Mount  Holyoke  Fe- 
male Seminary,  Boston.  1837. 

Signed  by  J.  D.  CONDIT,  secretary,  in  behalf  of  the 
trustees.  South  Hadley,  Mass.,  May  1,  1837. 

.  Annual  catalogues,  1837-8 

The  title  of  the  1837-8  catalogue  reads  :  First  annual 
catalogue  of  the  officers  and  members  of  the  Mount  Holyoke 
Female  Seminary. 

.   Anniversary  addresses :  — 

1839.  Rufus  Anderson. 

1840.  Mark  Hopkins. 

1841.  Bela  B.  Edwards. 

1842.  Edward  Hitchcock. 

1844.  Edward  N.  Kirk. 

1845.  Joel  Hawes. 

1846.  J.  D.  Condit. 
1849.  Edward  Hitchcock. 

.    [Circular  issued    by    the   trustees. 

April  20,  1849.] 

.    Massachusetts   Senate  [Document] 

No.  136,  1868. 

Report  of  committee  on  the  petition  of  Mount  Holyoke 
Seminary  for  a  grant  of  $40,000. 


450  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

.    Semi-centennial  celebration,  1837- 

1887.    1888. 
See  also  LYON,  MARY. 

New  York,  Education  in. 
See  SHERWOOD,  SIDNEY. 

OBERLIN  COLLEGE.  James  H.  Fairchild.  Ober- 
lin :  its  origin,  progress,  and  results.  An  address  pre- 
pared for  the  alumni  of  Oberlin  College,  assembled 
Aug.  22,  1860.  Oberlin,  1871. 

.    James  H.  Fairchild.    Oberlin:  the 

Colony  and  the  College.  1833-1883.  Oberlin,  1883. 

PALMER,  GEORGE  HERBERT. 
See  WELLESLEY  COLLEGE. 

PORTER,  DEACON  ANDREW  W.  Sumner,  C.  B. 
Sermon,  n.  d. 

POTTER,  ALONZO,  and  EMERSON,  GEORGE  B.  The 
School  and  the  Schoolmaster,  Boston,  1843. 

RAYMOND,    JOHN  HOWARD.    Life   and   Letters. 
Edited  by  his  eldest  daughter.  New  York,  1881. 
See  also  VASSAR  COLLEGE. 

RENSSELAER  SCHOOL.   [Announcement.]   1824. 

SAFFORD,  DANIEL.  A  memoir ;  by  his  wife.  Bos- 
ton, 1861. 

SANDERSON  ACADEMY.  Historical  Address.   1889. 

SHERWOOD,  SIDNEY.  History  of  higher  education 
in  the  State  of  New  York. 

United  States  Bureau  of  Education,  Circular  of  Infor- 
mation, No.  3,  1900. 

SIGOURNEY,  MRS.  L.  H.    Letters  to  my  pupils, 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  451 

with   narrative    and    biographical  sketches.    New 
York,  1860. 

SMITH  COLLEGE.  [Prospectus.]  Northampton, 
Mass.,  Sept.  10,  1872. 

.  Tyler,  W.  S.  Address  before  the  cit- 
izens of  Northampton,  Dec.  9,  1872. 

.  Addresses  at  the  inauguration  of 

Rev.  J.  Clark  Seelye  as  President,  July,  1875. 

.  Official  circulars. 

.   Celebration  of  the  Quarter-Cente- 
nary.  Cambridge,  1900. 

SNOW,  Louis  FRANKLIN.    The  College  Curricu- 
lum in  the  United  States.  New  York,  1907. 
Columbia  University  Contributions  to  Education. 

STOWE,  HARRIET  BEECHER.  Life,  by  Charles 
Edward  Stowe.  Boston,  1891. 

TYLER,  W.  S. 

See  MOUNT  HOLYOKE  COLLEGE,  Semi-centennial  cele- 
bration, and  SMITH  COLLEGE. 

UNITED  STATES  BUREAU  OF  EDUCATION.  Reports 
of  Commissioner. 

See  also  BUSH,  G.  G.,  JONES,  CHARLES  E.,  and 
SHERWOOD,  SIDNEY. 

VASSAR  COLLEGE.  Prospectus  of  the  Vassar 
Female  College.  May,  1865. 

.   Lossing,  Benson  J.   Vassar  College 

and  its  Founder.  New  York,  1867. 

.    Vassar    College:    a  sketch  of    its 

foundation,  aims,  and  resources,  and  of  the  develop- 


452  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

ment  of  its  scheme  of  instruction  to  the  present  time 
New  York,  May,  1873. 

.   Historical  sketch  of  Vassar  College. 

Prepared  for  the  Commissioner  of  the  Bureau  of 
Education.   New  York,  1876. 

.   Addresses  at  the  celebration  of  the 

completion  of  the  twenty-fifth  academic  year.   1890. 

See  also  RAYMOND. 

WELLESLEY  COLLEGE.    [Prospectus.]   Dec.  1874. 

.  Circular  for  1876,  Nov.  20,  1875. 

— .   Circular  for  1876.  June  11,  1876. 

.    Circular  to  parents.    June  1, 1877. 

.    Circular   to   parents  and   students. 

Aug.  1,  1879. 

—     .    Calendar,  1878-1879. 

.    Palmer,  George  Herbert.    Life  of 

Alice  Freeman  Palmer.   Boston,  1908. 

WHEATON  SEMINARY.  Wheaton,  Eliza  Baylies. 
Life,  by  Harriet  E.  Paine.  Cambridge,  1907. 

.  Larcom,  Lucy  A.  A  Semicentennial 

Sketch.   Cambridge,  1885. 

WILLARD,  EMMA.  Letter  addressed  as  a  circular 
to  the  members  of  the  Willard  Association  for  the 
improvement  of  female  teachers.  1838. 

.    Life  of  Emma  Willard,  by  John 

Lord.   New  York,  1873. 

.  Emma  Willard  and  her  pupils  [Mrs. 

A.  W.  Fairbanks,  editor].  New  York,  1898. 
Published  by  Mrs.  Russell  Sage. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  453 

III.    MISCELLANEOUS 

BUCKLAND  CENTENNIAL,  Sept.  10,  1879. 
Pamphlet. 

BUSHNELL,  HORACE.  Work  and  Play.  New  York, 
1866. 

ELLIS,  E.  R.  Biographical  Sketches  of  Richard 
Ellis,  the  first  settler  of  Ashfield,  Mass,,  and  his  de- 
scendants. Detroit,  1888. 

FELT,  JOSEPH  B.  History  of  Ipswich,  Essex,  and 
Hamilton.  Cambridge,  1834. 

JUDD,  SYLVESTER.  History  of  Hadley,  including 
the  early  history  of  Hatfield,  South  Hadley,  Am- 
herst,  and  Granby.  Springfield,  1905. 

LARCOM,  LUCY.  A  New  England  Girlhood.  Bos- 
ton, 1890. 


INDEX 


ABBOT  Academy,  218,  219. 

Adams  Academy,  87,  170,  433; 
disagreement  between  principal 
and  trustees,  93,  109,  110.  See 
also  Derry-Ipswich. 

Amherst  Academy,  62. 

Amherst  College,  63,  173,  283, 
311,  326,  351,  425;  Mary  Lyon 
attends  lectures  at,  118,  433; 
professors  from,  lecture  at 
Mount  Holyoke,  297,  298. 

Ashfield  Academy.  See  Sander- 
son Academy. 

Avery,  Joseph,  244. 

Baldwin,  Rev.  Theron,  277. 

Banister,  Mrs.  Z.  P.   See  Grant. 

Beecher,  Catherine,  137,  183; 
principal  of  Hartford  Seminary, 
96,  102,  167-170;  wishes  to  se- 
cure Mary  Lyon  as  teacher, 
135 ;  correspondence  with  Mary 
Lyon  about  Mount  Holyoke, 
181,  206,  212,  213,  241;  charac- 
terizes Mount  Holyoke,  218; 
effort  to  supply  Middle  West 
with  trained  teachers,  322,  323. 

Beecher,  Harriet,  "composition" 
work  at  Hartford  Seminary, 
168. 

Beecher,  Lyman,  advocates  Hart- 
ford-Ipswich merger,  169 ;  story 
of  machine  that  "  would  n't 
go,"  257. 


Burgess,  Mrs.  See  Moore,  Abi- 
gail. 

Burritt,  Elijah,  61. 

Byfield  Seminary,  65-82,  98,  165, 
433. 

Caldwell,  Eunice  (Mrs.  John 
Cowles),  251;  biographer  of 
Mary  Lyon,  1;  principal  of 
Wheaton  Seminary,  191;  quo- 
tations from,  254,  331;  at 
Mount  Holyoke,  330. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  198. 

Choate,  David,  describes  begin- 
nings of  Mount  Holyoke,  185, 
186. 

Choate,  Rufus,  173. 

College  curriculum  in  the  United 
States  in  1836,  376  n. 

Condit,  Rev.  Joseph,  254, 305, 442. 

Cowles,  Mrs.  Eunice  Caldwell. 
See  Caldwell. 

Dame  schools,  41. 

Dana,  Daniel,  186. 

Defoe,  projected  academy  for 
women,  42. 

Derry-Ipswich  Seminary,  95,  97- 
112;  its  curriculum,  99-101; 
entrance  requirements,  99; 
method  of  study,  102,  103,  198; 
the  "series,"  103,  104;  govern- 
ment, 105;  "sections,"  106; 
development  of  social  sense, 


456 


INDEX 


107,  108;   religious   influence, 

108,  109;    attention    given   to 
training  of  teachers,  111 ;  public 
examinations,     136;    proposed 
merger  with  Hartford  Seminary 
169;  financial  status,  170,  171; 
effect  on  public  opinion,  238. 

Dickinson,  Emily,  302. 
Diploma,  99,  284,  306,  442. 
Durant,  Henry  F.,  426. 
Dwight,  Timothy,  Greenfield  Hill 
School,  45. 

Eaton,  Amos,  Mary  Lyon  studies 
under,  118,  119. 

Edgeworth,  Maria,  testifies  to 
scope  of  women's  education, 
42. 

Education  of  women,  before  1800, 
39-46;  why  thought  unneces- 
sary, 40;  nunneries,  40;  dame 
schools,  41;  of  rich  girls  in 
eighteenth  century,  41;  of 
southern  girls,  41;  learned 
women  rare,  41,  42;  girl  passes 
entrance  examinations  to  Yale, 
41,  42;  stimulated  by  Revolu- 
tionary War  and  invention  of 
machinery,  43 ;  demand  for  wo- 
men as  teachers,  44,  176-178; 
private  ventures  near  the  end  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  44,  45 ; 
opening  of  public  schools  to 
girls,  45;  coeducational  acade- 
mies, 46 ;  work  of  Joseph  Emer- 
son, 70-75,  81,  82,  98;  lack  of 
system  in,  95,  96,  159-162,  175, 
266-269, 282,  309, 310 ;  pioneers 
in  higher  education,  96;  joint 
work  of  Zilpah  Grant  and  Mary 
Lyon  at  Derry  and  Ipswich, 


97-112;  absence  of  permanent 
schools,  159,  160-162",  165,  167, 
169,  170,  174,  175,  307,  428, 
429;  viewed  as  a  business  en- 
terprise, 160-162,  170,  174; 
"Plan"  of  Emma  Willard  pro- 
viding for  state  aid,  163;  she 
disclaims  the  idea  of  a  college, 
163;  her  seminary  a  private 
school,  165-167;  its  academic 
character,  167;  Joseph  Emer- 
son predicts  the  foundation  of 
higher  schools,  164;  work  of 
Catherine  Beecher  at  Hartford, 
167-170;  decline  of  Hartford 
Seminary  for  lack  of  funds,  169; 
attempt  to  endow  Ipswich 
Seminary,  172-175;  project  for 
a  New  England  seminary  for 
women-teachers,  173;  founding 
of  Oberlin,  176;  supply  and  de- 
mand in  the  fourth  decade  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  175- 
178;  expense  of,  179,  202;  the 
seminary  movement  in  retro- 
spect, 422 ;  rise  and  evolution  of 
the  college  movement,  421-428; 
influence  of  Mount  Holyoke 
beyond  the  United  States,  427. 
See  also  Mary  Lyon  and  Mount 
Holyoke. 

Edwards,  Jonathan,  21,  33,  133, 
141 ;  sisters  study  the  classics, 
42. 

Elmira  College;  424. 

Emerson,  Rev.  Joseph,  66,  69,  70, 
105 ;  as  a  teacher,  70-75,  80-82, 
98,  102;  on  Mary  Lyon's  com- 
positions, 78,  79;  moves  his 
seminary,  165;  predicts  higher 
schools  for  women,  164;  advises 


INDEX 


457 


Zilpah  Grant  to  establish  a 
permanent  school,  170;  con- 
nection with  Oberlin  through 
his  pupils,  176. 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  related 
to  Rev.  Joseph  Emerson,  69; 
compared  with  Mary  Lyon, 
211,  281,  417,  418. 

Emma  Willard  School,  167.  See 
Troy  Seminary. 

Entrance  requirements,  of  Ameri- 
can colleges  in  1836,  376  n. ;  at 
Ipswich  Seminary,  98,  99;  no 
mention  of,  at  Troy,  167;  at 
Mount  Holyoke,  261,  265,  266, 
269, 271, 290, 291, 293, 295, 437- 
439;  at  Vassar,  425;  at  Smith, 
425. 

Felt,  Joseph,  186,  220. 

Fisk,     Fidelia,     recollections    of 

Mary  Lyon,  2. 
Foot,   Lucinda,   passed  entrance 

examinations  to  Yale,  41,  42. 
Fuller,     Thomas,     on     "shercol- 

leges,"  39,  40. 

Georgia,  An  act  to  establish  a 
public  seat  of  learning  for  Fe- 
males, 164;  Georgia  Female 
College.  See  Wesleyan  Female 
College. 

Gloucester,  votes  to  educate  girls, 
45. 

Grant,  Zilpah  P.  (Mrs.  Banister), 
80,  94-96,  170,  183;  helps  pre- 
pare memoir  of  Mary  Lyon,  1 ; 
assistant  to  Joseph  Emerson, 
80;  opens  Adams  Academy,  87; 
influence  on  Mary  Lyon,  87, 
88;  moves  her  school  to  Ips- 


wich, 93,  109,  110;  appearance 
and  characteristics,  112,  113; 
as  a  teacher,  97-114;  declines 
Miss  Beecher's  invitation  to 
Hartford,  169;  emphasis  on 
need  of  permanent  schools,  172; 
invited  to  Mount  Holyoke,  182; 
opposes  Miss  Lyon's  temporary 
policies,  206,  212;  recipient  of 
letters  from  Miss  Lyon,  91,  92, 
125,  143,  144,  158,  160,  175, 
180,  223,  234,  245,  248,  256, 
284,  339;  connection  with  Vas- 
sar, 101. 

Hamilton,  Gail,  on  Miss  Grant, 
113. 

Hartford  Seminary,  95,  96,  168- 
170,  197,  221. 

Harvard  College,  40,  70,  141,  159, 
228,  425 ;  compared  with  Mount 
Holyoke  in  popular  support, 
253. 

Hawks,  Roswell,  222-224,  231, 
241,  252,  289,  368. 

Heard,  George  W.,  186. 

Hitchcock,  President,  63,  190, 
241 ;  biographer  of  Mary  Lyon, 
1 ;  she  studies  with,  63, 190,  300, 
301,  433,  434;  connection  with 
Mount  Holyoke,  184,  186,  190, 
218,  220,  235,  244,  298,  300, 
308,  318;  on  Mary  Lyon,  117, 
118,  192,  408-414. 

Hitchcock,  Charles,  301. 

Hitchcock,  Dr.  Edward,  190,  301. 

Hopkins,  Mark,  270,  420;  our 
girls'  schools,  175,  179;  on 
Mount  Holyoke,  306,  307. 

Hopkins  bequest,  Hadley's  share 
in,  22. 


458 


INDEX 


Rowland,  General,  186. 
Humphrey,     Heman,     220;     on 

Mary    Lyon,    241,    351,    414- 

416. 

Ipswich  Seminary,  93,  197,  198, 
221,  271,  297;  efforts  for  en- 
dowment of,  172-175;  sold, 
171.  See  also  Derry-Ipswich 
Seminary. 

Larcom,  Lucy,  302. 

Lafayette,  136. 

Lake  Erie  College,  393,  394,  426. 

Litchfield,  Miss  Pierce's  School, 
45. 

Lord,  Mrs.  Edward.  See  Lyon, 
Lucy. 

Lyman,  Hannah,  101. 

Lyon;  Aaron,  grandfather  of 
Mary,  23. 

Lyon,  Aaron,  father  of  Mary,  23, 
24,  433. 

Lyon,  Aaron,  brother  of  Mary,  20, 
26,  48,  64,  139,  339,  433. 

Lyon,  Electa,  eldest  sister,  85. 

Lyon,  Freelove,  youngest  sister, 
138,  346,  435. 

Lyon,  Jemima  (Mrs.  Wing),  434. 

Lyon,  Lovina  (Mrs.  Daniel  Put- 
nam), sister,  138,  139,  434. 

Lyon,  Lucy  (Mrs.  Edward  Lord), 
niece,  331,  338,  346. 

Lyon,  Mary,  previous  biographies 
of,  1,  2;  demand  for  a  new  Life, 
2-4;  materials  for  a  new  Life, 
4-9;  letters,  6-8.  344,  345; 
birth,  13,  433;  birthplace,  13- 
18;  ancestry,  19-24;  father  and 
mother,  23;  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, 24;  father's  death,  24,  433; 


home  life,  24-31;  definition  of 
economy,  29;  tries  to  make 
time,  31,  32;  early  schooling, 
32,  33;  books,  33;  learns  to 
make  brick,  35,  88;  youthful 
characteristics,  18,  32,  34,  35, 
47,  48,  82,  83,  122-124;  keeps 
house  for  brother,  48 ;  begins  to 
teach,  48,  433;  salary,  48,  170, 
345 ;  attends  Ashfield  Academy, 
49-55,  60,  61,  65,  433;  recites 
Latin  Grammar,  50,  51;  per- 
sonal appearance,  49,  50,  57, 
58, 118, 121,  122,  225,  284,  357- 
362,  372,  399,  401,  404,  416; 
character  as  a  student,  47,  48, 
52-54,  75-79;  friendship  with 
Amanda  White,  53,  54,  at  the 
White  home,  55,  56,  59,  60, 
224,  225;  social  training,  56-59; 
more  schooling,  61-63;  attends 
Amherst  Academy,  62,  63,  433 ; 
brother  moves  west,  64,  433; 
religious  experience,  35,  64,  77, 
129-131,  235,  317-322,  398, 
402,  403,  413-416,  418;  joins 
church,  433;  of  romantic  love 
and  marriage,  65,  140;  attends 
Joseph  Emerson's  Byfield  Sem- 
inary, 65-83,  433 ;  journey  from 
Ashfield  to  Byfield,  68;  com- 
positions at  Byfield,  78;  mem- 
ory-book, 79,  80;  friendship 
with  Zilpah  Grant,  80,  87,  88, 
112-114,  343;  opinions  on 
teaching,  84,  86,  115-117,  120. 
121,  146-151,  199,  397:  early 
unsuccess  as  a  teacher,  85,  86; 
appointed  to  Sanderson  Aca- 
demy, 86,  433;  decides  not  to 
move  west,  139,  140;  connec- 


INDEX 


tion  with  Adams  Academy,  87, 
88,  433,  434;  schools  for  girls  at 
Buckland  and  Ashfield,  88-95, 
434 ;  characteristics  as  a  teacher, 
89-93,  102,  106,  107,  114-118, 
125-133, 300,  312,  379;  connec- 
tion with  Ipswich  Seminary,  94, 
95,  434 ;  opinions  on  education, 
101,  116,  117,  131,  133,  195, 
196,  198,  200-202,  266-270, 
272-274,  282,  289,  293-295, 
297,  337 ;  interest  in  science,  63, 
118,  119,  171,  190,  300,  301 
434;  talks  to  students,  126-128, 
130,  131,  146-157,  312-317, 
318-322,  327,  349,  372,  377- 
879,  386,  387,  391,  392,  397, 
398;  influence  on  students,  128, 
134,  317,  318,  322,  354-406, 
419;  wit  and  humor,  32,  123, 

137,  234,  311,  368,  369,  400, 
403,  405;  concerning  relatives, 

138,  139,   144,  331,  332,  339, 
345-347,  350,  433-435;  travel, 
140-145,  339,  434,  435;  leaves 
Ipswich,    145,    146,    182;    de- 
plores lack  of  "the  vital  prin- 
ciple "  in  women's  schools,  159- 
160;  sees  the  need  of  public  aid, 
160;  caricatures  the  way  girls' 
schools   are   started,    160-162; 
truth   of   the   caricature   illus- 
trated,  169,   170;   proposes  to 
give  an  object  lesson  of  a  per- 
manent  school     162;   has   not 
always      emphasized      perma- 
nence, 172;  attempts  to  secure 
endowment  of  Ipswich   Semi- 
nary, 172-175,  434;  causes  im- 
pelling   her   to    act,    175-179; 
patriotism,  178;  thoughts  turn 


toward  middle  class  of  society, 
180;  site  in  Ohio  suggested, 
180;  invited  to  become  head  of 
Monticello  Seminary,  180;  calls 
New  England  "the  cradle  of 
thought,"  181;  writes  Miss 
Beecher  of  two  ways  of  raising 
the  money,  181,  182;  need  of 
diplomacy,  183,  184;  addresses 
circular  to  friends  of  Ipswich 
Seminary,  184,  434;  calls  first 
meeting  of  men  at  Ipswich,  185, 
186,  434;  raises  first  thousand 
dollars  from  women,  187-189, 
434;  recuperative  power,  189; 
spends  winter  at  Amherst,  190, 
434;  calls  meeting  of  leading 
men  of  western  Massachusetts, 
190;  helps  open  Wheaton  Sem- 
inary, 191,  192,  434;  aim  in 
founding  Mount  Holyoke,  192, 
193,  204,  205,  428,  429;  perma- 
nent policies  defined,  193-204; 
temporary  policies,  205-215 ; 
criticised  by  Miss  Beecher  and 
Miss  Grant,  206,  212,  213 ;  com- 
pared with  Ralph  Waldo  Emer- 
son, 211,  281,  417-419;  raises 
money  for  Mount  Holyoke, 
223-227,  231,  237-240,  250- 
253,  336;  personal  expenditure 
for  Mount  Holyoke,  226,  250, 
256;  disregard  of  hardship,  223, 
224,  227,  246,  247,  327-331; 
meets  opposition  and  criticism, 
227-236 ;  protests  against  "  gen- 
teel nothingness,"  231,  232; 
calls  for  pioneers,  233;  use  of 
prayer,  235,  236,  242,  318,  418; 
speaks  in  school-houses,  237; 
discovers  "little  bits  of  folks." 


460 


INDEX 


239,  240;  ability  to  select  and 
use  workers,  240-244;  writes 
Miss  Grant  of  "another  dark 
cloud,"  245;  not  discouraged, 
234,  246,  247,  250,  251;  writes 
Miss  Grant  after  laying  of  cor- 
ner stone,  248,  249 ;  writes  of  a 
point  of  etiquette,  251 ;  oversees 
finishing  of  building,  254,  255; 
multiplication  of  activities  be- 
fore opening,  253-257;  opens 
Mount  Holyoke,  258-263,  434; 
secures  cooperation  of  students, 
256,  260-263,  287,  288;  handi- 
capped by  public  opinion  and 
practice,  264-271,  293-296, 
332 ;  organizes  Mount  Holyoke, 
271-281,  329-331;  writes  Rev. 
Theron  Baldwin  about  the  do- 
mestic system,  277-279;  guides 
Mount  Holyoke's  development, 
285-301,  348;  channels  of  edu- 
cational influence,  302,  303, 
337.  393,  394,  419,  421-430  (see 
also  Mount  Holyoke) ;  writes 
Miss  Beecher  in  regard  to  fur- 
nishing teachers  for  Middle 
West,  323;  interest  in  alumnae, 
322,  324 ;  founds  Memorandum 
Society,  325,  326;  activities 
while  at  the  head  of  Mount 
Holyoke,  329-338;  character  of 
administration,  335,  412,  413; 
rest  trips,  338-340.  348,  349, 
435;  as  guest,  340;  with  serv- 
ants, 340,  341 ;  as  hostess,  342- 
344;  with  children,  340-344; 
premonitions  of  death,  347, 
348;  fiftieth  birthday,  347  348; 
death,  349-351,  435;  pictures 
of,  360-362;  as  seen  by  Presi- 


dent Hitchcock,  408-414;  as 
seen  by  President  Humphrey, 
414-416;  summary  of  position 
as  pioneer  of  the  college  move- 
ment in  women's  education, 
421-430. 
Lyon,  Rosina,  139,  140,  144,  434. 

Mills  College,  426. 

Milton,  72,  117. 

Missions,  11,  34,  60, 128;  "A  Mis- 
sionary Offering,"  5  435 ;  inter- 
est at  Mount  Holyoke,  321,  322, 
324,  331,  332,  336,  376,  388, 
389;  recipe  for  a  woman  mis- 
sionary, 322. 

Monticello  Seminary,  171,  180, 
277,  307. 

Moore,  Abigail  (Mrs.  Burgess), 
331,  332,  335,  346. 

Moravian  Seminary,  41. 

Mount  Holyoke,  semicentennial 
history,  2;  inception  of  idea, 
179,  180;  projected,  184;  first 
meeting  to  discuss,  185,  186, 
434;  first  money  raised,  187- 
189,  434;  second  meeting  to 
discuss  190;  idea  developed, 
192;  permanence,  193, 194, 216, 

264,  307,  325,   326,   429;  age 
limit  for  students,  195,  269,  271, 
273,   278,   291,  292,  375,  427; 
entrance     requirements,     261, 

265,  266,   271,  290,   291,  293, 
295,  427,  437,  438,  439;  curricu- 
lum,  197,   292-298,   376,   401, 
428,  437-440;  equipment,  195, 
203,  210,  212,  285,  286,  328; 
fitted  to  public  need,  196,  198, 
199,  204,  273,  322;  character  of 
students,    195,    196,   203,   273, 


INDEX 


461 


278,  290-292;  all-round  devel- 
opment emphasized,  196,  220; 
stress  on  system,  272,  282,  289, 
437,  440,  441;  principle  of 
growth, 196, 197,  285,  286,  289- 
296,  325,  352,  353,  401,  376, 
435,  438,  439 ;  democratic  spirit, 
201-204,  273,  328;  religious 
character,  197,  317-320,  388, 
389,  402,  403;  anticipated  re- 
sult of  founding,  204,  205,  233, 
249,  263,  295,  296,  428,  429; 
cooperative  housework,  205- 
211,  275-282,  289,  330,  333, 
338,  365,  366,  371,  389-391; 
salaries,  211-215,  345;  tuition, 
335,  336 ;  main  fund  raised,  217, 
222-227,  238-240,  244,  251, 
286,  336;  furniture,  251-253, 
255,  256;  opposition  to,  218, 
227-235,  332,  401 ;  located,  218, 
434;  named,  220,  221,  434; 
chartered,  221,  434, 436;  friends 
of,  184,  185,  186,  190,  218, 
222,  224,  225,  241-244,  258- 
260;  delays  and  mishaps  in 
building,  244,  245,  247,  249- 
251 ;  corner  stone  laid,  248,  434 ; 
opens  255,  258-263,  434;  diffi- 
culties of  organization,  264- 
270;  teachers,  269,  270,  283, 
298,  299;  no  preparatory  de. 
partment,  271;  "series,"  271; 
"sections,"  271,  272;  com- 
mencement, 282-284,  327-328, 
303-310;  diploma,  284,  306, 
442;  government,  286,  287,  364, 
367,  373,  387,  390,  391,  405; 
the  "Holyoke  spirit,"  301;  in- 
fluence on  education,  302,  303, 
309,  310,  423,  424,  426,  427; 


described  in  Boston  Recorder, 
304-306;  described  in  Boston 
Daily  Mail,  328;  recreation  at, 
310,  311,  382-386;  called  a 
college  by  legislature  of  Massa- 
chusetts, 421;  "germ  of  all  the 
women's  colleges,"  228,  229, 
421-429. 

Occupations  open  to  women  when 
Mount  Holyoke  was  founded, 
198. 

Oberlin  College,  176,  304. 

Packard,  Theophilus,  186. 
Pangynaskean     Seminary,     220, 

304. 

Pearsons,  Dr.  D.  K.,  303. 
Pestalozzi,  71,  91,  99,  317. 
Philadelphia,  "female"  academy, 

45. 
Pierce,    Miss    Sarah,    Litchfield 

School,  45. 
Porter,  Andrew,   242,   243,   249, 

250,  251,  254,  258,  339. 
Porter,  Mrs.,  242,  243,  250,  254, 

257,  340,  351. 

Raymond,  John  Howard,  101. 
Religious   Magazine,   235. 
Rensselaer  School,  118,  119,  434 
Rockford  College,  302. 
Russell,  Rev.  John,  20. 

Safford,   Daniel,  243,  251,   259, 

339,  341,  399. 
Safford,  Mrs.,  243,  251,  259,  339, 

358. 
Sanderson     Academy,     49,    *63; 

Mary   Lyon's   tribute   to,    60; 

Mary  Lyon  attends,  49-55,  60. 


462 


INDEX 


61,  65,  433;  Mary  Lyon 
teacher  in,  86,  87,  433. 

Sanderson,  Alvan,  49. 

"Sections,"  106,  265,  271. 

Seminary,  usage  of  word,  220. 

"Series,"  103,  104,  271,  272. 

Shepard,  Jemima,  mother  of  Mary 
Lyon,  23,  25,  48,  235,  255,  433; 
pictured  by  her  daughter,  26- 
28;  death,  346,  435. 

Sigourney,  Mrs.  L.  H.,  writes  of 
Mary  Lyon  and  Mount  Hoi- 
yoke,  351. 

Smith,  Chileab,  21,  22,  23. 

Smith,  Rev.  Henry,  20. 

Smith,  Lieutenant  Samuel,  20,  22. 

Smith  College,  228,  425,  426. 

Snell,  Ebenezer,  298. 

Somerville,  Mary,  42. 

Southern  girls,  education  of  in 
eighteenth  century,  41. 

Stiles,  Ezra,  42. 

Stow,  Mrs.  Sarah  Locke,  2. 

Troy  Seminary,  95,  96,  104,  165- 
167,  197,  221. 

Tyler,  William  Seymour,  193, 
429;  describes  opposition  to 
Mount  Holyoke,  228-231. 


Vassar  College,  101, 221,  424,  425. 
Vassar,  Matthew,  424. 

Webster,  Daniel,  33. 
Wellesley  College,  425,  426. 
Wesleyan    Female   College,   307, 

308. 

Western  College,  426. 
Wheaton  Seminary,  191,  192,  245, 

246,  253,  271,  336. 
White,  Amanda,  51,  53-59,  65-68, 

76,  86,  344. 
White,  Hannah,  86,  87,  209,  224, 

234 ;  biographer  of  Mary  Lyon, 

1. 
White,  Thomas,  49,  55-60,  66-68, 

86,  224,  225,  239,  240. 
Williams  College,  297,  346. 
Willard,  Emma,  96, 104, 142, 183; 

issues  "  Address  to  the  Public," 

163,    164;    principal    of    Troy 

Seminary,  165-167. 
Willard,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John,  166. 
Woodbridge,  William,  New  Ha- 
ven school  for  girls,  45. 

Yale  College,  45,  228,  346,  425; 
beginning  compared  with  that 
of  Mount  Holyoke,  296. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO  LIBRARY 


Gilchrist,    Beth  Bradford 
7092  The  life  of  Mary  Lyon 

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1837 
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