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iliar acquaintances. She would, for instance, always smile indulgently at Peter's remarks and say, There he is again, now; that's just like Peter. He's always so ready to put in. It must have been during this winter spent at Nut Plains, amid such surroundings, that Harriet began committing to memory that wonderful assortment of hymns, poems, and scriptural passages from which in after years she quoted so readily and effectively, for her sister Catherine, in writing of her the following November, says:-- Harriet is a very good girl. She has been to school all this summer, and has learned to read very fluently. She has committed to memory twenty-seven hymns and two long chapters in the Bible. She has a remarkably retentive memory and will make a very good scholar. At this time the child was five years old, and a regular attendant at Ma'am Kilbourne's school on West Street, to which she walked every day hand in hand with her chubby, rosy-faced, bare-footed, four-year-old
Charles E. Stowe, Harriet Beecher Stowe compiled from her letters and journals by her son Charles Edward Stowe, Chapter 2: school days in Hartford, 1824-1832. (search)
t with a heart enlarged and purified by the Holy Spirit, who shall throw all the graces of harmony, all the enchantments of feeling, pathos, and poetry, around sentiments worthy of them? ... It matters little what service He has for me. ... I do not mean to live in vain. He has given me talents, and I will lay them at his feet, well satisfied, if He will accept them. All my powers He can enlarge. He made my mind, and He can teach me to cultivate and exert its faculties. The following November she writes from Groton, Conn., to Miss May:-- I am in such an uncertain, unsettled state, traveling back and forth, that I have very little time to write. In the first place, on my arrival in Boston I was obliged to spend two days in talking and telling news. Then after that came calling, visiting, etc., and then I came off to Groton to see my poor brother George, who was quite out of spirits and in very trying circumstances. To-morrow I return to Boston and spend four or five day
d to Paris, where they found their brotherinlaw, Mr. John Hooker, awaiting them. Under date of May 3 Mrs. Stowe writes from Paris to her husband: Here I am once more, safe in Paris after a fatiguing journey. I found the girls well, and greatly improved in their studies. As to bringing them home with me now, I have come to the conclusion that it would not be expedient. A few months more of study here will do them a world of good. I have, therefore, arranged that they shall come in November in the Arago, with a party of friends who are going at that time. John Hooker is here, so Mary is going with him and some others for a few weeks into Switzerland. I have some business affairs to settle in England, and shall sail from Liverpool in the Europa on the sixth of June. I am so homesick to-day, and long with a great longing to be with you once more. I am impatient to go, and yet dread the voyage. Still, to reach you I must commit myself once more to the ocean, of which at ti
Charles E. Stowe, Harriet Beecher Stowe compiled from her letters and journals by her son Charles Edward Stowe, Chapter 14: the minister's wooing, 1857-1859. (search)
y of Eternal Love,--if He would unite us in himself, then even on earth all tears might be wiped away. Papa has preached twice to-day, and is preaching again to-night. He told me to be sure to write and send you his love. I hope his health is getting better. Mrs. Upham sends you her best love, and hopes you will make her a visit some time. Good-by, my darlings. Come soon to your affectionate mother. H. B. S. The winter of 1857 was passed quietly and uneventfully at Andover. In November Mrs. Stowe contributed to the Atlantic monthly a touching little allegory, The mourning veil. In December, 1858, the first chapter of The minister's Wooing appeared in the same magazine. Simultaneously with this story was written The Pearl of Orr's Island, published first as a serial in the Independent. She dictated a large part of The minister's Wooing under a great pressure of mental excitement, and it was a relief to her to turn to the quiet story of the coast of Maine, which she
Charles E. Stowe, Harriet Beecher Stowe compiled from her letters and journals by her son Charles Edward Stowe, Chapter 15: the third trip to Europe, 1859. (search)
va the next day about four o'clock, and to Lausanne at eight. Coming up-stairs and opening the door, I found the whole party seated with their books and embroidery about a centretable, and looking as homelike and cosy as possible. You may imagine the greetings, the kissing, laughing, and good times generally. From Lausanne the merry party traveled toward Florence by easy stages, stopping at Lake Como, Milan, Verona, Venice, Genoa, and Leghorn. At Florence, where they arrived early in November, they met Fred Stowe and his friend, Samuel Scoville, and here they were also joined by their Brooklyn friends, the Howards. Thus it was a large and thoroughly congenial party that settled down in the old Italian city to spend the winter. From here Mrs. Stowe wrote weekly letters to her husband in Andover, and among them are the following, that not only throw light upon their mode of life, but illustrate a marked tendency of her mind:-- Florence, Christmas Day, 1859. My dear husband,
admired the working of your mind, there is about it such a perfect uprightness and uncalculating honesty. I think you are a better Christian without church or theology than most people are with both, though I am, and always have been in the main, a Calvinist of the Jonathan Edwards school. God bless you! I have a warm side for Mr. Lewes on account of his Goethe labors. Goethe has been my admiration for more than forty years. In 1830 I got hold of his Faust, and for two gloomy, dreary November days, while riding through the woods of New Hampshire in an old-fashioned stage-coach, to enter upon a professorship in Dartmouth College, I was perfectly dissolved by it. Sincerely yours, C. E. Stowe. In a letter to Mrs. Stowe, written June 24, 1872, Mrs. Lewes alludes to Professor Stowe's letter as follows: Pray give my special thanks to the professor for his letter. His handwriting, which does really look like Arabic,--a very graceful character, surely,hap-pens to be remarkab
onth in Harper's. It is as good as a letter. Daniel Deronda has succeeded in awaking in my somewhat worn-out mind an interest. So many stories are tramping over one's mind in every modern magazine nowadays that one is macadamized, so to speak. It takes something unusual to make a sensation. This does excite and interest me, as I wait for each number with eagerness. I wish I could endow you with our long winter weather,--not winter, except such as you find in Sicily. We live here from November to June, and my husband sits outdoors on the veranda and reads all day. We emigrate in solid family: my two dear daughters, husband, self, and servants come together to spend the winter here, and so together to our Northern home in summer. My twin daughters relieve me from all domestic care; they are lively, vivacious, with a real genius for practical life. We have around us a little settlement of neighbors, who like ourselves have a winter home here, and live an easy, undress, picnic kin