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effort: nor was she She gave herself up entirely to the work or the play of the hour.
She was a manysided crystal: every aspect of life met its answering flash.
The glow of human intercourse kindled her to flame; but when the flame had cooled, the need of solitude and study lay on her with twofold poignancy.
She went through life in double harness, thought and feeling abreast; though often torn between the two, in the main she gave free rein to both, trusting the issue to God.
The winter of 1864-65 was an arduous one.
She was writing new philosophical essays, and reading them before various circles of friends.
The larger audience which she craved was not for the moment attainable.
She was studying deeply, reading Latin by way of relaxation, going somewhat into society (Julia and Florence being now of the dancing age), and entertaining a good deal in a quiet way. In February she writes: “Much tormented by interruptions.
Could not get five quiet minutes at a time.
Everybody torments me with every smallest errand.
And I am trying to study philosophy!”
Probably we were troublesome children and made more noise than we should.
Her accurate ear for music was often a source of distress to her, as one of us can witness, an indolent child who neglected her practising.
As this child drummed over her scales, the door of the upstairs study would open, and a clear voice come ringing down, “B-flat, dear, not B natural!”
It seemed to the child a miracle; she, with the book before her, could not get it right: “Mamma,” studying
Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York. 1916.
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