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Hays Gardiner (search for this): chapter 31
. And again, It was given to me something as was my Battle Hymn. . . . October 25. Wrote to a very bumptious child, thirteen years old, who proffers me her friendship and correspondence, claiming to have written poems and magazine contributions praised by noted authors. I sent her back her letter, with three or four corrections and a little advice, kindly meant, but which may not be so taken... She will probably turn and rend me, but I really felt it might do her good. November 14. Gardiner. A good meditation. The sense of God in the universe seems to be an attribute of normal humanity. We cannot think of our own personal identity without at the same time imagining a greater self from which we derive. This idea may be crude and barbarous, great minds have done much to make it otherwise; Christ most of all with His doctrine of divine love, providence, and forgiveness. The idea of a life beyond this one seems also to appertain to normal humanity. We had best accept this gre
April 25th (search for this): chapter 31
ly counsel may become me at this moment, let me say to the women here assembled: Do not let us go back from what we have gained. Let us, on the contrary, press ever forward in the light of the new knowledge, of the new experience. If we have rocked the cradle, if we have soothed the slumbers of mankind, let us be on hand at their great awakening, to make steadfast the peace of the world! She was glad afterward that she had not gone; but a significant corollary to the matter appears on April 25:-- Providence — a pleasant trip, made possible by dear Laura's departure. (That is, dear Laura knew nothing about it till afterward. How often we recalled the old Quaker's saying to her, It was borne in upon me at an early period that if I told no one what I intended to do, I should be enabled to do it! ) In the last week of April ( dear Laura being still absent) she spoke four times in public, on four successive days. These addresses were at the Kindergarten for the Blind ( I mi
November 7th (search for this): chapter 31
in the heavens is the eternity of truth and right. I naturally desire life after death, but if it is not granted me, I have yet a part in the eternal glory of this tabernacle. October 29. Dear H. M. H. left us this morning, after a short but very pleasant visit. He brought here his decorations of his Russian order to show us; they are quite splendid. He is the same dear old simple music-and mischief-loving fellow, very sensitive for others, very modest for himself, and very dear. November 7.... Prayed hard this morning that my strength fail not. During this summer, an electric elevator had been put into the Boston house, and life was made much easier for her. From this time we became familiar with the vision of her that still abides, flitting up or down in her gilded car. Watching her ascent, clad in white, a smile on her lips, her hand waving farewell, one could only think of The chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof. Another good gift was a Victor machine. When
July 3rd, 1907 AD (search for this): chapter 31
0. ... Marion Crawford arrived soon after three for a little visit. He looks greatly improved in health since I last saw him. He must have passed through some crisis and come out conqueror. He has all his old charm .... She was lamenting the death of her cousin and childhood playfellow, Dr. Valentine Mott Francis, when a much greater affliction fell upon her in the death of her son-in-law, David Prescott Hall. This hurts me, she writes, like a physical pain. To Florence Oak Glen, July 3, 1907. My dearest dear Flossy, You are quite right in saying that we greatly need the consoling belief in a future life to help us bear the painful separation which death brings. Surely, the dear Christ believed in immortality, and promised it to faithful souls. I have myself derived great comfort from this belief, although I must confess that I know nothing about it. You may remember what [Downer] said to your dear father: I don't know anything about it, but Jesus Christ certainly believ
November 15th (search for this): chapter 31
out at the same time imagining a greater self from which we derive. This idea may be crude and barbarous, great minds have done much to make it otherwise; Christ most of all with His doctrine of divine love, providence, and forgiveness. The idea of a life beyond this one seems also to appertain to normal humanity. We had best accept this great endowment which philosophy seeks to analyze much as a boy will take a watch to pieces, but cannot put it together again so that it will work. November 15. Another long sitting and meditation. What have individual philosophers done for religion? As I recall what I could learn of the Kantian philosophy, I think that it principally taught the limitations of human knowledge, correcting thereby the assumptions of systems of thought and belief to absolute authority over the thinker and believer. He calls conscience the categorical imperative ; but that term in no wise explains either the origin or authority of the moral law. His rule of testi
November 14th (search for this): chapter 31
nd corrected. And again, It was given to me something as was my Battle Hymn. . . . October 25. Wrote to a very bumptious child, thirteen years old, who proffers me her friendship and correspondence, claiming to have written poems and magazine contributions praised by noted authors. I sent her back her letter, with three or four corrections and a little advice, kindly meant, but which may not be so taken... She will probably turn and rend me, but I really felt it might do her good. November 14. Gardiner. A good meditation. The sense of God in the universe seems to be an attribute of normal humanity. We cannot think of our own personal identity without at the same time imagining a greater self from which we derive. This idea may be crude and barbarous, great minds have done much to make it otherwise; Christ most of all with His doctrine of divine love, providence, and forgiveness. The idea of a life beyond this one seems also to appertain to normal humanity. We had best ac
July 24th (search for this): chapter 31
cle. She read Elliot Cabot's Life of Emerson, which she thought certainly a good piece of work, but deficient, it seems to me, in the romantic sympathy which is the true interpretation of Emerson and of all his kind. She hammered hard on the two poems, with good results. July 14. I can hardly believe it, but my miserable verses, re-read to-day, seemed quite possible, if I can have grace to fill out their sketchiness. Last word tonight: I think I have got a poem. Nil desperandum! July 24. Difficult to exaggerate the record of my worry this morning. I feel a painful uncertainty about going to Boston to read my poem for Old Home Week. Worse than this is my trouble about two poems sent me while in Boston, with original music, to be presented to the committee for Home Week, which I have entirely forgotten and neglected. To do this was far from my intention, but my old head fairly gave out in the confusion of the various occasions in which I was obliged to take an active par
April 9th (search for this): chapter 31
e to the house and took down her melodies, she singing and playing them to him. She always enjoyed the hour with the young composer. A number of the melodies thus preserved were published in a Song Album by G. Schirmer some months later. April 8. Great trouble of mind about attending the Peace Convention in New York, which I have promised to do. Laura dead against it, reinforced by Wesselhoeft, Sr., who pronounces it dangerous for me. I at last wrote to ask my dear minister about it. April 9.... A violent snowstorm keeps me at home. Minister and wife write, Don't go to Peace Convention. I asked God in my prayer this morning to make going possible or impossible for me. I took C. G. A.'s letter as making it impossible, as I had decided to abide by his decision. Wrote a letter of explanation to Anna Garlin Spencer. I am much disappointed, but it is a relief not to cause Laura such painful anxiety as she would have felt if I had decided to go. She wept with joy when I gave it
November 20th (search for this): chapter 31
alism, the theory by which we evolve or create all that occupies our senses and our mind, appears to me a monstrous expanse of egotism. No doubt, dialectics serve as mental athletics, and speculative thought may be useful as an exercise of the mental powers; but processes which may be useful in this way might be very unfit to be held as permanent possessions of persuasion. It occurs to me that it might be more blessed to help the souls in hell than to luxuriate with saints in heaven. November 20. Boston. Began my screed on the Joys of Motherhood for the Delineator. Wrote currente calamo .... November 23. Rather an off day. Found T. W. Higginson's little volume of verses, presented to me on my seventieth birthday, and read a good deal in it. When the Colonel gave it to me, he read a little poem, Sixty and Six, very charmingly. Seems to me that I ought to have read this little book through long before this time. One of the sweetest poems in it is about the blue-eyed baby th
November 23rd (search for this): chapter 31
expanse of egotism. No doubt, dialectics serve as mental athletics, and speculative thought may be useful as an exercise of the mental powers; but processes which may be useful in this way might be very unfit to be held as permanent possessions of persuasion. It occurs to me that it might be more blessed to help the souls in hell than to luxuriate with saints in heaven. November 20. Boston. Began my screed on the Joys of Motherhood for the Delineator. Wrote currente calamo .... November 23. Rather an off day. Found T. W. Higginson's little volume of verses, presented to me on my seventieth birthday, and read a good deal in it. When the Colonel gave it to me, he read a little poem, Sixty and Six, very charmingly. Seems to me that I ought to have read this little book through long before this time. One of the sweetest poems in it is about the blue-eyed baby that they lost after some six weeks happy possession. I sent a pretty little baby wreath for it, feeling very sorry
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