"_January 20...._ Some little agitation about my appearance at the Artists' Festival to-night, as one of the patronesses. I had already a white woollen dress quite suitable for the prescribed costume. Some benevolent person or persons ordered for me and sent a cloak of fine white cloth, beautiful to look at but heavy to wear. A headdress was improvised out of one of my Breton caps, with a long veil of lawn. Jack Elliott made me a lovely coronet out of a bit of gold braid with one jewel of dear Maud's. Arriving, to my surprise, I found the Queen's chair waiting for me. I sat thereon very still, the other patronesses being most kind and cordial, and saw the motley throng and the curious pageants. Costumes most beautiful, but the hall too small for much individual effect. Adele Thayer wore the famous Thayer diamonds."

"_January 27._ Woke early and began to worry about the hearing....

Dressed with more care than usual and went betimes to State House. Had a good deliverance of my paper. The opposition harped upon our bill as an effort to obtain cla.s.s legislation, saying also that they knew it to be an entering wedge to obtain suffrage for all women; the two positions being evidently irreconcilable. When our turn for reb.u.t.tal came, I said: 'Many years ago John Quincy Adams presented in Congress a pet.i.tion for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, but none of the Southerners imagined that this pet.i.tion was intended to keep the other negroes of the South in slavery! Are we, who, for thirty years past, and more, have been coming here to ask for full suffrage for all women, to be accused of coming here now with a view to the exclusion of our former clients from suffrage? How can we be said to contemplate this and at the same time to be putting in an entering wedge for universal suffrage?'

"I thank G.o.d for what I did say at the hearing and for what I did not say. Two of the opposing speakers were rude in their remarks; all were absurd, hunting an issue which they knew to be false, namely, our seeking for cla.s.s legislation."

"_January 28._ Although very tired after yesterday's meeting, I went in the evening to see 'Julius Caesar' in Richard Mansfield's interpretation.

The play was beautifully staged; Mansfield very good in the tent scene; parts generally well filled...."

"_March 3._ My dear Maud returned this evening from New York. She has been asked to speak at to-morrow's suffrage hearing. I advised her to reflect before embarking upon this new voyage.... When she told me what she had in mind to say, I felt that a real word had been given her. I said: 'Go and say that!'..."

"_April 1...._ A telegram announced the birth of my first great-grandchild, Harry Hall's infant daughter.[144]..."

[144] Julia Ward Howe Hall.

"_April 11._ To Mrs. Bigelow Lawrence's, Parker House, to hear music.

Mrs. [Henry] Whitman called for me.

"Delightful music; two quartettes of Beethoven's, a quintette of Mozart's, which I heard at Joseph Coolidge's some thirty or more years ago. I recognized it by the first movement, which Bellini borrowed in a s.e.xtette which I studied in my youth from 'La Straniera,' an opera never given in these days...."

"_April 17._ Winchendon lecture.... A day of anguish for me. I was about to start for Winchendon when my dearest Maud so earnestly besought me not to go, the weather being very threatening, that I _could not_ deny her. Words can hardly say how I suffered in giving up the trip and disappointing so many people.... As I lay taking my afternoon rest, my heart said to G.o.d, 'You cannot help me in this'; but He did help me, for I was able soon after this to interest myself in things at hand. I heard Mabilleau's lecture on French art in its recent departure. It was brilliant and forcibly stated, but disappointing. He quoted with admiration Baudelaire's hideous poem, 'Un Carogne.'..."

"_April 21._ In the afternoon attended anniversary of the Blind Kindergarten, where I made, as usual, a brief address, beginning with 'G.o.d said, Let there be light,' a sentence which makes itself felt throughout the human domain, where great-hearted men are stirred by it to combat the spirits of darkness. Spoke also of the culture of the blind as vindicating the dignity of the human mind, which can become a value and a power despite the loss of outward sense. Alluded to dear Chev's sense of this and his resolve that the blind, from being simply a burden, should become of value to the community. The care of them draws forth tender sympathy in those whose office it is to cherish and instruct them. Spoke of the nursery as one of the dearest of human inst.i.tutions. Commended the little blind nursery to the affectionate regard of seeing people. The children did exceedingly well, especially the orchestra. The little blind 'cellist was remarkable."

"_May 2._ Dreamed last night that I was dead and kept saying, 'I found it out immediately,' to those around me...."

"_May 28._ My prayer for the new year of my life beginning to-day is, that in some work that I shall undertake I may help to make clear the goodness of G.o.d to some who need to know more of it than they do...."

"_June 22._ Mabel Loomis Todd wrote asking me for a word to enclose in the corner-stone of the new observatory building at Amherst [Ma.s.sachusetts]. I have just sent her the following:--

"The stars against the tyrant fought In famous days of old; The stars in freedom's banner wrought Shall the wide earth enfold."

"_June 23._ Kept within doors by the damp weather. Read in William James's book, 'Varieties of Religious Experience.'... Had a strange fatigue--a restlessness in my brain."

"_June 25...._ The James book which I finished yesterday left in my mind a painful impression of doubt; a G.o.d who should be only my better self, or an impersonal pervading influence. These were suggestions which left me very lonely and forlorn. To-day, as I thought it all over, the G.o.d of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob seemed to come back to me; the G.o.d of Christ, and his saints and martyrs. I said to myself: 'Let me be steeped in the devotion of the Psalms, and of Paul's Epistles!' I took up Coquerel's sermons on the Lord's Prayer, simple, beautiful, positive...."

"_July 30._ _Oak Glen._ Rose at 6.15 A.M. and had good luck in dressing quickly. With dear Flossy took 9 A.M. train for Boston. At Middletown station found the teachers from the West [Denver and Iowa], who started the 'Battle Hymn' when they saw me approaching. This seemed to me charming. My man Michael, recognizing the tune, said: 'Mrs. Howe, this is a send-off for you!'..."

She was going to keep a lecture engagement in Concord, Ma.s.sachusetts; her theme, "A Century from the Birth of Emerson." She was anxious about this paper, and told Mr. Sanborn (the inevitable reporter calling to borrow her ma.n.u.script) that she thought the less said about the address the better. "I have tried very hard to say the right thing, but doubt whether I have succeeded." Spite of these doubts, the lecture was received with enthusiasm.

"_September 6._ I was very dull at waking and dreaded the drive to church and the stay to Communion. The drive partly dissipated my 'megrims'; every bright object seemed to me to praise G.o.d.... The Communion service was very comforting. Especially did Christ's words come to me, 'Abide in me,' etc. I felt that if I would abide in Him, old as I am, I could still do some good work. 'Yes! my strong friend,' my heart said, 'I will abide in thee,' and a bit of the old Easter anthem came back to me, 'He sitteth at the right hand of G.o.d, in the glory of the Father.' No, it is a verse of the _Te Deum_."

In October a lecture in South Berwick gave her the opportunity, always greatly enjoyed, of a visit to Sarah Orne Jewett and her sister Mary.

"_November 1._ _South Berwick._ A delightful drive. Mary Jewett, Annie Fields, and I to visit Mrs. Tyson in the Hamilton House described by Sarah in her 'Tory Lover.'... Most interesting. Mrs. Tyson very cordial and delightful.... She came over later to dinner and we had such a pleasant time! In afternoon copied most of my screed for the 'Boston Globe.'"

It surely was not on this occasion that she described dinner as "a thing of courses and remorses!"

"_November 2._ Took reluctant leave of the Jewett house and the trio, Sarah, Mary, and Annie Fields. We had a wonderful dish of pigeons for lunch...."

It was delightful to see our mother and Miss Jewett together. They were the best of playmates, having a lovely intimacy of understanding. Their talk rippled with light and laughter. Such stories as they told! such songs as they sang! who that heard will ever forget our mother's story of Edward Everett in his youth? He was to take three young ladies to drive, and had but the one horse; he wished to please them all equally.

To the first he said, "The horse is perfectly fresh now; you have him in his best condition." To the second he said, "The horse was a little antic at first, so you will have the safer drive." To the third he said, "Now that the other two have had their turn, we need not hasten back.

You can have the longest drive."

It is recalled that during this visit, when Laura felt bound to remonstrate in the matter of fruitcake, "Sarah" took sides with ardor.

"You shall have all you want, Mrs. Howe, and a good big piece to take home besides! Put it somewhere where the girls can't find it!"

She nodded. "There is a corner in my closet, which even Maud dare not explore!"

The fruitcake was duly packed, transported, and eaten--we are bound to say without ill effect.

This recalls the day when, leaving Gardiner, she was presented with a packet of sandwiches, and charged to have the Pullman porter bring her a cup of bouillon. The next day Laura received a postal card.

"Lunched at Portland on mince pie, which agreed with me excellently, thank you!"

Her postal cards were better than most people's letters. You could almost see them sparkle. The signature would be "Town Pump" or something equally luminous. In fact, she so rarely signed her own name in writing to us that when asked for autographs we were posed. "Town Pump" was no autograph for the author of the "Battle Hymn"!

There was another mince pie, a little, pretty one, which she saw at a Papeterie meeting, the last summer of her life; saw, coveted, secreted, with her hostess's aid, and smuggled home. Always a moderate eater, she never could be made to see that age demanded a careful diet. "I have eaten sausages all my life," she would say. "They have always agreed with me perfectly!" Indeed, till the very latest years, her digestion had never failed her. It was in the eighties that she said to one of us, "I have a singular sensation that I have never felt before. Do you think it might possibly be indigestion?" She described it, and it _was_ indigestion. We are reminded of a contemporary of hers who, being gently rebuked for giving rich food to a delicate grandchild, replied with lofty scorn, "Stuff and nonsense! _Teach his stomach!_"

"_November 8...._ In late afternoon some visioning, _i.e._, lying down to rest and asking and answering questions in my mind:--

"Question: Can anything exceed the delight of the first mutual understanding of two lovers?

"Answer: This has its sacredness and its place, but even better is the large affection which embraces things human and divine, G.o.d and man.

"Question: Are Saviour and Saints alive now?

"Answer: If you believe that G.o.d is just, they must be. They gave all for His truth: He owes them immortality."

"_November 16._ Dear Auntie Francis's wedding day. I think it was in 1828. My sisters and I were bridesmaids, my brothers groomsmen. Dear father, very lame, walked up with a cane to give her away. Grandma Cutler looked much discontented with the match. Father sent the pair off in his own carriage, with four horses, their manes and tails braided with white ribbons. They drove part of the way to Philadelphia."

"_November 28...._ To Wellesley College.... William Butler Yeats lectured on the revival of letters in Ireland. We dined with him afterwards at Miss Hazard's house. He is a man of fiery temperament, with a slight, boyish figure: has deep-set blue eyes and dark hair; reminds me of John O'Sullivan[145] in his temperament; is certainly, as Grandpa Ward said of the Red Revolutionists, with whom he dined in the days of the French Revolution, 'very warm.'"

[145] Hawthorne's friend of the _Democratic Review_.

"_November 29...._ This came into my mind, apropos of reformers generally: 'Dost thou so carry thy light as to throw it upon _thyself_, or upon thy _theme_?' This appears to me a legitimate question...."

"_December 21._ Put the last touches to my verses for Colonel Higginson's eightieth birthday. Maud went with me to the celebration held by the Boston Authors' Club at the Colonial Club, Cambridge. T. W.

H. seemed in excellent condition; I presided as usual. Bliss Perry, first speaker, came rather late, but made a very good address. Crothers and Dean Hodges followed, also Clement. Judge Grant read a simple, strong poem, _very good_, I thought. Then came my jingle, intended to relieve the strain of the occasion, which I think it did. Maud says that I hit the bull's eye; perhaps I did. Then came a pretty invasion of mummers, bearing the gifts of the Club, a fine gold watch and a handsome bronze lamp. I presented these without much talk, having said my say in the verses, to which, by the bye, Colonel H. responded with some comic personal couplets, addressed to myself."

Here is the "jingle."

Friends! I would not ask to mingle This, my very foolish jingle, With the tributes more decorous of the feast we hold to-day; But the rhymes came, thick and swarming Just like bees when honey's forming, And I could not find a countersign to order them away.

For around this sixteenth l.u.s.tre Of our friend's, such memories cl.u.s.ter Of the days that lie behind it, full of glories and regrets, Days that brought their toils and troubles, Lit by some irradiant bubbles Which became prismatic opals in the sun that never sets.

Picnics have we held together Sailing in the summer weather, Sitting low to taste the chowder on the sands of Newport Bay, And that wonderful charade, sir, You know well, sir, that you made, sir, When so many years of earnest did invite an hour of play.