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Theodore Parker (search for this): chapter 32
her ministrations and Dr. Cobb's diagnosis have been very beneficial to my bodily health. On the same day she records the visit of a Persian Prince, who had come to this country chiefly to see two persons, the President of the United States and Mrs. Julia Ward Howe. He also claims to be a reincarnation of some remarkable philosopher; and to be so greatly interested in the cause of Peace that he declines to visit our ships now in the harbor here, to which he has been invited. Reading Theodore Parker's sermon on Wisdom and Intellect, she found it so full of notable sayings that she thought a little familiar book of daily inspiration and aspiration might be made from his writings: she wrote to Mr. Francis J. Garrison suggesting this, and suggesting also, what had been long in her mind, the collecting and publishing of her Occasional poems. In late September, she was moved to write one or more open letters on what religion really is, for some one of the women's papers ; and the nex
Christopher Birckhead (search for this): chapter 32
looked dumfounded. It proved that he had lately written a prize poem, and that literature was the goal of his ambition. Another day she found a philosopher hidden in what seemed to the rest of the family merely a callow boy in pretty white duck clothes. So she plucked out the heart of each man's mystery, but so tenderly that it was yielded gladly, young and old alike feeling themselves understood. Among the visitors of this summer none was more welcome than her great-grandson, Christopher Birckhead, Son of Caroline Minturn (Hall) and the Reverend Hugh Birckhead. then an infant in arms. She loved to hold and watch the child, brooding over him with grave tenderness: it was a beautiful and gracious picture of Past and Future. Maud had just written a book on Sicily, and, as always, our mother read and corrected the galley-proofs. She did this with exquisite care and thoughtfulness, never making her suggestions on the proof itself, but on a separate sheet of paper, with the
hold fast the thought that the great Christ asked no sign from God and needed none, so deeply did he enter into life divine. I also thought, regarding Christ and Moses, that we must be content that a certain mystery should envelop these heroic figures of human history. Our small measuring tape or rod is not for them. If they we the best things are already in view? The opportunities for women, the growing toleration and sympathy in religion, the sacred cause of peace? I have lived, like Moses, to see the entrance into the Promised Land. How much is this to be'thankful for! My crabbed hand shows how Time abridges my working powers, but I march to the increased our gratitude for it. How it has consecrated Babyhood and Maternity! Two infants, grown to man's estate, govern the civilized world to-day, Christ and Moses. I am still thankful to be here in the flesh, as they were once, and oh! that I may never pass where they are not! The winter of 1909-10 was a severe one, and
Harry Richards (search for this): chapter 32
had great fame, and sometimes blame, as a philosopher. But he don't make no impression on my mind. I never doubted that I was, so don't need no cogito, ergo sum, which is what Carty, old Boy, amounts to. Your letter, dear, was a very proper attention under the circumstances. Should n't object to another. Lemme see! objects cannot be subjects, nor vice versa. How do you know that you washed your face this morning? You don't know it, and I don't believe that you did. You might consult H. Richards about some of these particulars. He is a man of some sense. You are, bless you, not much wiser than your affectionate Ma. Returned to Oak Glen, after the celebration, she writes:-- To her son and his wife Oak Glen, October 1, 1909. .. I found my trees still green, and everything comfortable. I did not dare to write to any one yesterday, my head was so full of nonsense. Reaction from brain-fatigue takes this shape with me, and everything goes higgle-wiggledy, hi-cockalorum,
Oliver Wendell Holmes (search for this): chapter 32
evening at the Faneuil Hall meeting held to advocate the revision of our extradition treaty with the Russian Government, which at present seems to allow that government too much latitude of incrimination, whereby political and civil offences can too easily be confused and a revolutionist surrendered as a criminal, which he may or may not be. Later in the month she writes:-- In the early morning I began to feel that I must attempt some sort of tribute to my dear friend of many years, Dr. Holmes, the centenary of whose birth is to be celebrated on Tuesday next. I stayed at home from church to follow some random rhymes which came to me in connection with my remembrance of my ever affectionate friend. I love to think of his beautiful service to his age and to future ages. I fear that my rhymes will fail to crystallize, but sometimes a bad beginning leads to something better.... The poem was finished, more or less to her satisfaction, but she was weary with working over it, an
De Rochambeau (search for this): chapter 32
lineator, on What I should like to give my Country for a Christmas Gift, she dreads a failure of her productive power, but is reassured by Maud's verdict. I took much pains with it, but think she overpraises it a little to raise my spirits. The gift she would choose was a more vigilant national conscience. The little essay counts but seventy lines, but every word tells. In early September she performed a very small public service, unveiling in Newport a bronze tablet in honor of Count de Rochambeau. She would have been glad to speak, but an anxious daughter had demurred, and at the moment she only thought of pulling the string the right way. September 21. Green Peace, New York. A delightful drive with Mr. Seth Low in his auto. A good talk with him about the multi-millionnaires and the Hague Conferences which he has attended. We reached Green Peace in time for Mr. Frank Potter to sing about half of my songs. He has a fine tenor voice, well cultivated, and is very kind ab
Julia Ward Howe Hall (search for this): chapter 32
lately written a prize poem, and that literature was the goal of his ambition. Another day she found a philosopher hidden in what seemed to the rest of the family merely a callow boy in pretty white duck clothes. So she plucked out the heart of each man's mystery, but so tenderly that it was yielded gladly, young and old alike feeling themselves understood. Among the visitors of this summer none was more welcome than her great-grandson, Christopher Birckhead, Son of Caroline Minturn (Hall) and the Reverend Hugh Birckhead. then an infant in arms. She loved to hold and watch the child, brooding over him with grave tenderness: it was a beautiful and gracious picture of Past and Future. Maud had just written a book on Sicily, and, as always, our mother read and corrected the galley-proofs. She did this with exquisite care and thoughtfulness, never making her suggestions on the proof itself, but on a separate sheet of paper, with the number of the galley, the phrase, and her s
George Washington (search for this): chapter 32
ls me of pencils made here for a foreign market and sold in Germany and England at a price impossible here. I said that the real bottomless pit is the depth of infamous slander with which people will assail our public servants, especially when they are faithful and incorruptible, apropos of aspersions cast on Roosevelt and Taft. Mrs. Ward read a very violent attack upon some public man of a hundred or more years ago. He was quoted as a monster of tyranny and injustice. His name was George Washington. April 8.... My prayer for this Easter is that I may not waste the inspiration of spring.... In these days came another real sorrow to her. April 10. To-day brings the sad news of Marion Crawford's death at Sorrento. His departure seems to have been a peaceful one. He comforted his family and had his daughter Eleanor read Plato's Dialogues to him. Was unconscious at the last. Poor dear Marion! The end, in his case, comes early. His father was, I think, in the early fortie
Margaret Fuller (search for this): chapter 32
m [forty-four lines] without the slightest inclination to cough. This really was the granting of my prayer, and my first thought about it was, What shall I render to the Lord for all His goodness to me? I thought, I will interest myself more efficiently in the great questions which concern Life and Society at large. If I have the word for the moment, as some think, I will take more pains to speak it. A little later came a centenary which — alas!--she did not enjoy. It was that of Margaret Fuller, and was held in Cambridge. She was asked to attend it, and was assured that she would not be expected to speak. This kindly wish to spare fatigue to a woman of ninety-one was the last thing she desired. She could hardly believe that she would be left out — she, who had known Margaret, had talked and corresponded with her. They have not asked me to speakI she said more than once as the time drew near. She was reassured; of course they would ask her when they saw her! I have
Frederic Chopin (search for this): chapter 32
and publishing of her Occasional poems. In late September, she was moved to write one or more open letters on what religion really is, for some one of the women's papers ; and the next day began upon What is religion? or rather, What Sort of Religion makes Religious Liberty possible? A day or two later, she was giving an offhand talk on the early recollections of Newport at the Papeterie, and going to an afternoon tea at a musical house, where, after listening to Schumann Romances and Chopin waltzes, and to the Battle Hymn on the 'cello, she was moved to give a performance of Flibbertigibbet. This occasion reminded her happily of her father's house, of Henry playing tolerably on the 'cello, Marion studying the violin, Broa Sam's lovely tenor voice. Now came the early October days when she was to receive the degree of Doctor of Laws from Smith College. She hesitated about making the tiresome journey, but finally, Grudging the trouble and expense, I decide to go to Smith Coll
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