to the little blind children, for they are papa's children.”
“These parting words,” our mother adds, “are inscribed on the wall of the Kindergarten for the Blind at Jamaica Plain
Beautiful in life, and most beautiful in death, her sainted memory has a glory beyond that of worldly fame.”
She considered Julia
the most gifted of her children.
The “Reminiscences” speak of her at some length, making mention of her beneficent life, and of her published works, a volume of poems entitled “Stray chords,” and “Philosophise Quaestor,” a slender volume in which she described the Concord School of Philosophy and her pleasure therein.
In our mother's house of life, each child had its special room, though no door was locked to any. In all things pertaining to philosophy, Julia
was her special intimate.
For help and sympathy in suffrage and club doings, she turned naturally to Florence, an ardent worker in these fields; with Harry she would specially enjoy music; with Laura would talk of books; while Maud was the “Prime minister” in social and household matters.
So, till the very last, we grayhaired children leaned on her, clung to her, as in the days when we were children indeed.
A few years before Julia
's death, our mother wrote to Mrs. Cheney
, who had lost her only daughter: “This combat of the soul with deadly sorrow is a single-handed one, so far as human help is concerned.
I do believe that God's sweet angels are with us when we contend against the extreme of calamity.”