[Transcriber's Note: Inconsistencies in spelling and punctuation have beenretained as in the original. ] [Illustration: MARY L. DAY ARMS] THE WORLD AS I HAVE FOUND IT. SEQUEL TOIncidents in the Life of a Blind Girl. BY MARY L. DAY ARMS. WITH AN INTRODUCTION By Rev. Charles F. Deems, LL. D. BALTIMORE:PUBLISHED BY JAMES YOUNG, 112 West Baltimore Street. ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, byMARY L. DAY ARMS, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. INTRODUCTION. Mrs. Arms has asked me to write an introduction to her book. It hardlyseems to need it. The title-page shows that it was written by one who isblind. It is a sequel to another volume. That volume has been widely sold, and all who read it will, I am sure, have some desire to see how thestream of the life of its writer has been flowing since her first book waswritten. Her patient perseverance under privations has won her a largecircle of personal friends, who will take pleasure in procuring andpreserving this fresh memento of the Blind Girl. Such a book as this has a value which, probably, has not occurred to itsauthor. She has put on record the phenomena of her life as she hasrecollected them, with great simplicity, merely for the entertainment ofher readers, without attaching any importance to the value which everysuch memoir has in the department of science. But it is just from thestudy of such phenomena as these that the students in mental and moralphilosophy learn the laws of mind and the operations of a human soul undera divine, moral government. As a matter of taste we might omit thewriter's description of her husband, whom she never yet has seen, p. 45, and her account of her love affairs, p. 49; and if we had discretionaryeditorship, and the volume had been written by one having always had hersight, we should unhesitatingly exclude such passages. But, as the recordsof the impressions, consciousnesses and general mental phenomena of ablind girl _in love_, they stand to be, perhaps, quoted hereafter in someabstruse scientific treatise, or bloom out in some perennial poem. There is an immediate practical usefulness in such a book as this. It hasits wholesome lesson for the young. It shows what strength of characterand vigor of purpose will accomplish under even extraordinaryembarrassments. The young lady had a hard early life. She had neitherfriends nor money nor sight, but she unwhiningly took up the task oftaking care of herself, and discharged it so nobly as to make for herselfa wide circle of friends, and keep for herself that sense of self-relianceas toward man, and of faith as toward God, which are worth more than allthe dirty dollars that wickedness can give to weakness. Let our young women who are in straitened circumstances, in circumstancesthat seem absolutely exclusive of all hope of retaining virtue and keepinglife, read this book and its predecessor, and pluck up faith and hope. Letall our young ladies, daughters of loving parents, daughters who have nocare for the morrow, daughters of delicious ease and happy opportunity, read this book, and then let their consciences ask them how they are tocarry their idleness to be examined at the judgment sent of Christ, incontrast with this blind girl's industry, fidelity and perseverance. CHARLES F. DEEMS. CHURCH OF THE STRANGERS, New York, 4th July, 1878. CHAPTER I. "Warriors and statesmen have their meed of praise, And what they do, or suffer, men record; While the long sacrifice of woman's days Passes without a thought, without a word: And many a holy struggle for the sake Of duty, _sternly_, _faithfully_ fulfil'd; For which the anxious soul must watch and wait, Goes by unheeded as the summer wind, And leaves no _memory_, and no trace behind! Yet, it may be, more lofty courage dwells In one meek heart that braves an adverse fate, Than his whose ardent soul indignant swells, Warmed by the fight, or cheered through high debate. The soldier dies surrounded; could he _live Alone_ to suffer, and alone to strive?" So was rendered the sad soul-music of one of the legion, "Who learned in sorrow What they taught in song. " and the weird words have been echoed by the voice of many a woman allalong, whose weary wanderings have burned the sacrificial fires; amid theashes of whose dead hopes the embers have flickered and faded only torekindle the lurid, lustrous light of added, and still added offerings. There, waiting and watching the deep tracery "upon the sands beside thesounding sea, " find wave after wave wash away the mystic hand-writing. The ebbing tide carries afar the ships freighted with aching, anguishedhearts; when borne upon the swell of the flowing sea, come the swift sailsof Argosies richly laden with hope, full with fruition. Within the heart of all there lies deeply imbedded the "Black Drop" ofwhich the Mahometan legend tells, and which the angel revealed to theProphet of Allah. 'Tis in aching anguish this drop must be probed andpurified, to be healed only through the endless eloquence of duty done. The sightless eyes have vivid visions. Theirs is the light in darknesswhich stirred the soul of a Milton with a "gift divine;" inspired a Homerwith the "fire and frenzy" which crowned an Iliad and an Odyssey, themaster pieces of Epic verse; gave to the antique and traditionalliterature of the Celtic race its meteoric brilliancy, and produced theweird, wondrous sublimity of an Ossian. All who have read the Invocation to Light by the blind authoress, Mrs. DeKroyft, must have realized the luminous light of a soul sublimated bysorrow and swelling and soaring in eloquent strains. 'Tis but a simple song I must sing, a bird-note amid cathedral tones; butmay not its minstrelsy meet the heart and search the soul of many asorrowing one, or rise like the song of the nightingale to the throne ofHim who sees the lives enthralled? If this little lesson of life can find a single searcher for the truth ittells, or bear on the breath of the breeze "one soft Ĉolian strain, " may Inot hope that it may help to swell the harp-notes of the heavenlyharmonies? CHAPTER II. "I remember, I remember How my childhood fleeted by-- The mirth of its December, And the warmth of its July. " In a former volume I have recounted the varied scenes of an eventfulchildhood, whose auroral dawn was tinted with the rose-hue and perfumedwith the breath of light-winged moments; even as the Goddess of theMorning ushers in the new-born day with her flower-laden chariot, and thebright Morning Star lends its light ere it sinks under the horizon. Having my birth on the rich soil of a Southern land, and cradled under itstropical skies and sunny smiles, I was early transplanted to colder climesand ruder blasts, yet through the nurture of a mother's gentle hand, andthe ministrations of a loving band of sisters and brothers, whosetalismanic touch toned every note, softened every sorrow and heightenedevery hope, I could but bloom like an Alpine flower in its bed of snow. But in the golden chain there came to be, in time, a "missing link;" themother's life went out, and from the darkened fireside vanished the littleflock, scattered through various ways to various destinies. My own was a slippery path to tread, and ofttimes led my weary feet intothe shadow, and gloom, and darkness. Through sickness, neglect andmaltreatment came all too soon "sorrow's crown of sorrow;" when over theyoung life fell a dark pall, and eyes so used to light no longer held theprisoned sunbeams, and passed forever under the relentless bond and cruelcurse of blindness. Then indeed my soul grew dark! And could my restlesseyes wait in thraldom for the dawn of an eternal day, and must mywandering feet pass through the "valley of the shadow, " ere I could seethe light "around the Great White Throne?" Through a singular complication of circumstances I was led to the home ofa sister in Chicago, from whom I had long been separated; and by equallysingular ways I was also there reunited to three of my brothers (Charles, William and Howard). Then my veiled vision could not shut out the lovedlineaments living in the pictured halls of memory--the vision of alove-hallowed home, and a mother's face crowning all. Scenes and facesgone, passed like a panorama before my mind's eye, and "So the blessed train passed by me, But the vision was sealed upon my soul. " Through the agency of family friends I returned to my birth-place, andwith strange and mingled emotions was welcomed back to Baltimore, withkind greetings from relatives and friends. Some had passed beyond theportal of earthly existence, and others unexpectedly reappeared, amongwhom was my father, whose face I could not see, but whose emotionbetokened great anguish at the sight of his blind daughter. Oh how manymemories must have passed through his mind, as he clasped to his heart hischastened, motherless child, and, while other loves and other ties werehis, "the shades of friends departed" as told by Longfellow must haveentered a weird train, and amid other angel footsteps must have come-- "That being beauteous Who unto his youth was given; More than all things else to love him, And is now a saint in Heaven. " Notwithstanding so many former attempts at the restoration of my sight, another effort was made, involving a trip to New York, where a mostpainful operation was undergone. But, alas! although a brief period wasaccorded me, in which I saw with rapture objects around me, it was only tobe shut out into utter and hopeless sightlessness. As the wounded hareseeks some cover remote from the human ken, so did my sinking soul seekthe solace of solitude, where for twenty-four hours I searched my natureto its depths, and made resolves for my future course, known only to Godand pitying angels. They alone comforted me then, and they have sustainedand soothed through every succeeding trial! CHAPTER III. "The saddest day hath gleams of light, The darkest wave hath bright foam near it. And, twinkles o'er the cloudiest night, Some solitary star to cheer it. " In the year 1855, my heart still heavy with its burden of blindness, Ientered the Baltimore Institution for the Blind. With kind friends to aidand cheer me, high hopes, rich resolutions and ambitious aims to inspire, I commenced the course of study which was to fit me for my new avocations. Ofttimes was I found in the deep valley of humiliation, where I sat medown and sighed; and in many a "Garden of Gethsemane" were seen thetrickling "tears of blood. " The cross and the crucifixion came, butafterwards came the resurrection of dead hopes and angels bearing thecrown. I must say with undying gratitude to all connected with the Institution, that it is to them I am indebted for the might and the mastery; for whilemany a daisy was crushed in my path, many a rose bloomed upon a thornystem, and these kind ones led me at last to the sun-crowned mountain-topsand clear blue skies. After being in school for three years, without consulting with any friend, I wrote, with much difficulty, a letter with pin-type, to Governor Hicks, asking a three years extension of time. I preserved secrecy in this matterin the fear of disappointment, and determined if it came to bear it alone. One day a professor called me to him and said: "You have written to theGovernor, and his reply has come. " With anxious, nervous silence, I"waited for the verdict, " and when it came in an affirmative, how happyand joyous I felt! How determined to push on to the bright goal before me! Meantime I had written a history of my life, and through assistance fromever kind friends had succeeded in securing its publication. A copy of itwas sent to the Governor, as a tiny token of my appreciation of hiskindness. I afterward accompanied a delegation from our school toAnnapolis, where we gave an entertainment. The Governor, coming up to ourlittle group, said, in cheerful tones, "I am going to see if I canrecognize the one who wrote the book. " And in pursuance of thisannouncement, easily selected me, and with kindly tones and hearty graspof the hand, spoke many words of comfort, which are still carefully heldin my casket of gems as "Treasures guarded with jealous care And kept as sacred tokens. " Continuing my course of studies, I graduated in 1860 with, I hope, a fairdegree of honor to myself and my instructors. Just previous to this timethere came among our many visitors a good friend from Loudon county, Virginia, named Richard Henry Taylor, who promised if I would visit hishome he would furnish me every facility for the sale of my book; and ofhim I shall have more to say hereafter. Now commenced the real struggle of life. Alone I must brave the world, andwith patience bear its frowns or enjoy its smiles, as the case might be. Alone I must earn my bread. Meagre were many times the means and scanty was the allowance, yet theycame in the hour of need as manna in the wilderness, ofttimes wet with thedews of heavenly love; and ever, in my laborious pilgrimage, I have beenallowed to stand upon Mount Gerizim, to bless the people and the "rulersof the land. " CHAPTER IV. "Let us then be up and doing With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait. " Deeming it proper to inaugurate my work in our nation's capital, I left my"Alma Mater" with all the trepidation of a child going out from thehome-roof, and rushed into the exciting and excited vortex, wherecentralize our national interests, and where, as it were, throbs the greatnational heart, the city of Washington. I was kindly received at the houseof my cousin, Mrs. Reese, in which sanctum my heart took fresh hope andcourage. This was during the administration of Mr. Buchanan, and I firstrepaired to the bachelor President, who received me in his privateaudience-room with all of his characteristic and chivalrous courtesy. Taking both my hands in his, he said, with deep emotion--"I am so sorryfor your deep affliction, but so glad that you have had the energy towrite a book and the courage to make it a resource for support. I praythat God may bless and prosper you, and I know he will. " After this expression of his faith he showed his works by buying a book, for which he paid me two dollars and a half, more than double its price. So spoke, so did, the noble man, in whose heart was enshrined the memoryof one cherished love, the idolized object of which precluded thepossibility of a second affection, while the grand heart of the statesmanwent out in kindness and sympathy to all. My second call was at one of the government offices, where my nervousexcitement rendered me so nearly speechless that I could only silently andtremblingly tender a book to a young man who was one of the clerks. Seeingthe movement, he asked: "Do you wish, to sell the book?" to which I nodded an affirmative. He turned jocularly toward me, and asked: "Were you ever in love?" Speech suddenly followed in the wake of offended dignity, and I promptlyreplied: "Sir, I try to love every one. " "But, " said he, in soaring strain, "suppose a young man should say toyou--'You are the cherished idol of my worship, the one sweet flowerblooming in my pathway, etc. , etc. ' what would you think?" I quickly responded: "Sir, I should think he had more poetry than goodsense in his composition. " Pleased, and apparently thoughtful, he turned from me, and going among theother employees, returned with the money for a dozen copies of my book inhis hand, and on his lips a penitent and evidently heartfelt assurancethat he meant no harm or insult by his words, humbly craved my pardon forthe offense, and closed by wishing me many God speeds. My next effort was in the Treasury Department, where the first person Iapproached exclaimed: "Mary Day! where did you come from?" This exclamation was followed by manyother expressions of joy and surprise. Suddenly the loving arm of a younggirl encircled me. Kisses fell upon my forehead, cheek and lips, and wordsof endearment came in copious pearly showers. At the first lull in thesweet confusion I asked: "Who are you all?" The first proved to be a brother of Mrs. Cook, of Michigan, who had beenso kind to me in the past, and the second was her daughter, who rapidlyrecounted by-gone scenes, and lovingly lingered upon the many cherishedmemories my presence had evoked. They took me to their home in the city, and lavished upon me all the kindness and attention love could suggest. Among the many reminiscences came the one sad story of the father's death. In one of the darkest, sternest hours of my childhood he had held out tome the kind, paternal hand, and welcomed me to the protection of his ownroof, and the story of his death deeply interested me. It was in substancethis: The family had returned from some festive scene on Christmas eve, and thefather, leaving them to stable his horses, was so long absent as toarouse anxiety. They sought him everywhere, but found him not. After anight of untold suspense the morning revealed to them the shocking sightof his dead body lying in the corner of an adjoining lot, his face smilingand peaceful in death, his arms folded and limbs outstretched. He had beencruelly gored by a creature he had fed and fostered, cherishing it as apet among his domestic animals, and it had turned upon him as manyso-called human creatures repay those who have protected and loved them! They knew not whether his wounds or the intense cold had been the finalcause of death, but such was the sad dawning of their Christmas day, andso, amid the joy of my reunion with those dear friends, came the sadthought that-- Ever amid life's roses Will the sombre cypress be twined, And wherever a joy reposes, A dream of sorrow we find. I feel it due to the various government officials at Washington to givethem an expression of gratitude for the great facilities afforded me inthe way of permits to canvass in the many public departments, knowingtheir strict rules and rigid restrictions in this regard. I was volunteered an entrée everywhere, from the humblest governmentoffice to the Capitol and White House, and in each and all was courteouslyreceived. In subsequent years I had also great reason for gratitude to Mr. Colfax, who not only gave his own patronage, but presented me to Congress, the members of which vied with each other in liberality. CHAPTER V. "Thus, with delight, we linger to survey The promised joys of life's unmeasured way; Thus, from afar, each dim discovered scene More pleasing seems than all the rest hath been; And every form that fancy can repair From dark oblivion, glows divinely there. " My nature, in its first struggle with the world, shrank, like Mimosa, fromevery human touch; but the kind words of love and gentle acts of kindnessalready received transformed and ripened within me a more trusting andhopeful character, and I almost unconsciously accepted as immutable andinevitable the great law of compensation. It is well that it was in the season of youth that my career began, thatseason which Jean Paul so poetically designates as "The Festival Day ofLife, " in which period friendship dwells as yet in a serenely open GrecianTemple, not, as in later years, in a narrow Gothic Chapel. My heart accepting as genuine these pure expressions of friendship, Iturned from Washington toward Virginia, and after a visit at Leesburg, inwhich I had good success, I wrote to Mr. Taylor, the friend I have beforementioned, asking him to meet me at Hamilton, which point was reached bythe old-time stage-route. Some doubt may have entered my mind as to hisremembrance of the promise to meet me, all of which must have beendispelled when, upon the arrival of the stage, a cheery, gentle voice, ina tone which would have filled the darkest moment of doubt with thesun-ray of trust, exclaimed: "How does thee do, Mary?" Miss Rachel Weaver, my companion, was a bright-eyed, sunny-hearted, English girl, whosepresence irradiated the atmosphere around her. She was presented to him, and received the same quiet yet cordial greeting. His carriage was inwaiting for us, and a refreshing drive of three miles brought us to hiscozy home. The reception given us by his excellent wife was characterizedby all the depth and warmth of her expanded and exalted nature, and wewere at once domiciled as truly "at home. " The next day was the beginning of their Quarterly Meeting, and theimpressions of a life-time can never efface the varied pictures stampedupon memory by each phase of that religious gathering. Not in a gorgeouschapel of Gothic architecture, frescoed nave and highly wrought transept;no stained glass windows of rainbow hue; no gorgeously draped altar orelaborate organ; but in a simple wooden meeting-house, upon a gentlysloping grassy seclusion, came the feet of those "who went up to theworship of God. " No robed priest with consecrated head was there, but_all_ were privileged to express with the lips the heart's devotion. Mr. Taylor carried to this meeting a number of my little books, and I amsafe in saying that each member of that community bought one of them. At noon we partook of a collation upon the lovely green sward, where sweetwords solaced and kind hands tendered me hospitality. Prominent among theguests was Mrs. Hoag, a lady of lovely character and cultured mind, whoinsisted upon having us accompany her to her home, a mansion rich andelegant in its appointments, and, above all, its halls resounding with themusic of innocent mirth, and hung with the "golden tapestry" of love. We remained in this community four weeks, a sweet "season of refreshment, "which so gently glided away that we awoke, like those aroused frompeaceful sleep and dear dreams of pleasure, renewed and buoyant. Our farewell was not unmingled with sad regret at parting, but upon myreturn to Baltimore my friends failed not to note the favorable change inmy physical and mental condition. So talismanic is the touch of love, soinspiring and life giving! and 'tis to this dear community of Loudencounty, Virginia, I shall ever trace the first impetus which has givenmomentum to all the subsequent movements of my life. CHAPTER VI. "The muffled drum's sad roll has beat The soldier's last tattoo: No more on life's parade shall meet That brave and fallen few; On fame's eternal camping ground Their silent tents are spread, And glory guards, with solemn round, The bivouac of the dead. " After a short period of reunion with friends in Baltimore, I resolved, notwithstanding the agitated condition of the country, to wend my waysouthward, for I restlessly yearned for an active continuation of duty. Miss Weaver having other engagements, it became necessary for me to seekanother traveling companion. Trusting to the good fortune which hadhitherto favored me in that regard, I engaged the services of Miss MaryChase, who proved a valuable attendant, combining in her character so manygraces and endowments, possessing, among her numerous attractions, avoice of rare, rich and mellow flexibility. My uncle, Mr. Heald, having an interest in the Bay Line of steamers, hisson, my cousin, Howard Heald, attended me to the steamer Belvidere, introduced me to the captain, and took every precautionary measure toenhance the pleasure of my trip. Subsequent events proved how salutarywere these efforts. The captain did all that polite attention and study ofmy comfort could suggest, attended us to the table, pointed out theworkings of the engine, the complications of the machinery and propellingpower of the steamer, which so airily and so gracefully "walked thewaters, " directed attention to every object of note on the route and theircharm of historic interest, thus making the trip one replete withinstruction. Miss Chase, with the melody of a song-bird, drew around us acircle of charmed listeners, and her voice became a source of constant andsoothing solace to me. Arriving at the city of Richmond at the untimely hour of four o'clock inthe morning, at the solicitation of the captain we remained on board untila later and more convenient time, when we found the streets of the cityalive with soldiers and filled with sad sounds of sword and musketry, thefirst low reverberation of the din of war, the opening of the battle-song, whose weird refrain has been echoed by so many sorrowing ones, its madmusic adapted to the thousands of crushed and broken hearts! The little war-cloud, at first "no larger than a man's hand, " was growingdeeper and darker, and the stern rumble of the conflict becomingirrepressible. Every avenue in the way of business was closed, and beingtold that if I desired remaining north of Mason and Dixon's line I must goat once, I retraced my steps, and returned by the James river, since somemorable in the history of our civil conflict, and sought shelter inBaltimore, where I remained for the winter; and while so many relativesand friends would have welcomed me to their homes, I felt impelled toaccept an invitation to the institution in which I had been educated, andcould enjoy the association of those who had first directed my totteringsteps, and my schoolmates, who were friends and co-workers. CHAPTER VII. "But if chains are woven shining, Firm as gold and fine as hair, Twisting round the heart, and twining. Binding all that centres there In a knot that, like the olden, May be cut, but ne'er unfolden; Would not something sharp remain In the breaking of the chain?" Spring came with its "ethereal mildness" and budding beauty, and the tieswhich bound me to the Monumental City must, although with convulsiveeffort, be broken. Miss Chase was but "a treasure lent, " her sweet, loving nature having wonthe heart of one who made her his life companion; hence it becamenecessary for me to find another to fill her place. She came in the personof Miss Kate Fowler, a lovely young girl of seventeen years, who possessedgreat charms of person, mind and soul, as the sequel will show. We traveled together throughout Delaware, New Jersey and Pennsylvania, meeting with greater success than we could have hoped for while the din ofwar was raging, always making sufficient for our support. At Hollidaysburgh, Penn. , I learned of the presence of General Anderson, and resolved that I would offer a tangible evidence of my appreciation ofthe "Hero of Fort Sumter. " Entwining one of my little books with red, white and blue ribbons, I sent it to him with a little note, asking itsacceptance from the authoress, a Baltimore lady, in behalf of her nativecity, then under a cloud, the Massachusetts troops having been stoned by amob collected from various points, and for which she bore the undeservedodium. These I sent in their tri-colored dress, expecting only a silentreception. But, as I sat at dinner in my hotel, there came a singular andunexpected response in the person of the General himself. He wasintroduced by the landlord, and was accompanied by his little daughter, holding in her hand my token, as she smilingly approached me in herfairy-like beauty. A delightful chat ensued, and an urgent request uponhis part that I should visit Cresson Springs, to which he had resortedwith his family in order to recuperate his health, shattered by theprotracted and gallant defense of one of our national citadels. With a kind "good bye" he left, and as I passed out of the dining-roomdoor I received an evidence of his great delicacy in a token he would notpublicly tender. The landlord handed me a box from him containing ahandsome plain gold ring, ever since cherished as a memento; and, althoughworn by time, there is still legible the name engraved within this shiningcirclet, even that of General Anderson. After canvassing Altoona I went to Cresson Springs and was no soonerregistered than I received a card from the General. Meeting me in theparlor, he gave me a cordial welcome, after which he said: "Now I am goingto assist you in your sales. " He drew together three of the parlor tables, and, taking one hundred of my books, he placed them thereon, together withspecimens of my bead work, which he artistically arranged in the nationalcolors. It needed but a wave of the magician's wand, for such he seemed, to evoke the spirits of generosity and love, and through these all of myvolumes vanished, as well as much of the bead work. At General Anderson'srequest I took my work to the parlor, and amid a group of wondering ones, many of whom were members of his own family, I showed them how the blindcould deftly weave these little trinkets, the fashioning of the "bijou"baskets needing no sight to arrange the colors, with celerity and skill. Iwas also, at his request, seated at his family table, and time will nevererase the memory of words which fell from the lips of the warrior, asgently, as lovingly, as if a woman's voice were breathing words of comfortand affection. In after time, when tidings of his death were borne from aforeign land, when the perfumed breath of sunny France received the lastsigh of our hero, I dropped many a tear, which truly welled up from thedepths of a sorrowing heart. In the winter I made Philadelphia my head-quarters, stopping at the homeof Mr. And Mrs. Mack, both of whom were blind when married, and who bothpossess great musical talent, which they utilized by teaching piano music, thus earning a handsome support and purchasing the home they thenoccupied, a tasteful, comfortable domicile. It was well for me I selectedthis spot, for it afterward proved "a City of Refuge. " I was soonprostrated with a severe typhoid fever, and was so kindly cared for bythis dear family, who, by tender ministration, nursed the little spark ofhope, and brought me from death unto life. Their two sweet children andtheir musical prattle will ever be recalled as illuminated pictures uponthe red-lettered page of life's history. Of the tender care of Miss Fowler too much cannot be said. It was to herassiduous attention I was also, in a great degree, indebted for myrecovery. During this illness I could also number two other ministering spirits, Dr. Seiss, a Lutheran minister, who constantly visited me, and gave me many aword of comforting support, and Professor Brooks, who was called to mybedside as medical attendant. He had been for many years an eminent allopathic physician, and was then aprofessor in the Homeopathic College of Philadelphia. He also faithfully and unremittingly ministered to me during the manyweeks of fever and prostration. When I was almost well I one day said to him: "Doctor, what do I owe you?"The sweet serenity of his face merged into a benevolent beam, and in thevernacular of the Society of Friends, of which he was a member, he said:"Mary, Rachel and I have been talking it over, and we have concluded thatthee will be too delicate to travel this winter, and will need all thymoney; so thee does not owe me anything. " Choking with grateful emotion, as soon as I could command control I said:"Doctor, I could not expect you to give me such kind attention withoutremuneration, but since you have so willed it, I can only say I thank youfor having saved my life. " Whereupon there came the same luminous look, and the gentle voice said: "Mary, it was not I that saved thy life; itwas thy Heavenly Father. " As soon as I was well enough to ride he made arrangements for me to visithis house. I took the street car, but by pre-arranged plan, he met me athis door, lifted me from the car, and carried me in his arms into aluxurious bed-chamber, where I was met by the sweet-voiced Rachel, whogave me a reviving draught of rare old wine, and in every way studied mywants during the day's visit, after which the Doctor drove me home in hiscarriage. How do our hearts go out in gratitude to such true and loving natures, andhow fondly do we recall in after years the sweet sounds of sympathy, whosemelody pervades life's measured music. Once again I found myself in Baltimore, where I received a letter from mybrother William, urging me to spend the winter at his home in Pecatonica, Ill. This, together with a meeting with my cousin Sammy Heald, determinedme to go West. My cousin was about to visit Iowa City, Iowa, where dwelthis betrothed, and he offered to pay all my traveling expenses if I wouldaccompany him. The temptation of seeing one from whom there had been aneight years separation made my cousin's entreaties irresistible, and Iyielded, receiving from him all the devoted attendance his kind naturecould dictate. So, after the lapse of so many eventful years, I turned myface westward. I spent the winter at the home of my brother, and shallnever forget his kindness and that of his family, as well as otherresidents of Pecatonica, who did so much to lighten the leaden-wingedhours, which, in a little hamlet, drag so slowly in comparison with thedin and bustle of city life, and the excitement of business and travel. CHAPTER VIII. "So where'er I turn my eyes, Back upon the days gone by, Saddening thoughts of friends come o'er me; Friends who closed their course before me, Yet what links us friend to friend, But that soul with soul can blend. Love-like were those hours of yore, Let us walk in soul once more. " The dreary winter had passed away, one in sad contrast with the mildsouthern season, and known only to those who have realized its storms andwind and snow. The birds of spring were caroling their first songs of the season, and thewhite mantle of snow disappearing under the sun-rays. These tokens told meI must be "up and doing. " Selecting a companion among the kind group ofPecatonica friends, Miss Sarah Rogers, a lady of sterling virtue andpronounced character, I went to Chicago. The war conflict being still atits height, I could do little in the way of book selling, but managed todispose of sufficient bead work to be entirely self-sustaining. In mybusiness route in Chicago I entered a millinery establishment, and wassurprised by a greeting from the familiar voice of my sister Jennie, andthey alone who are members of a scattered household can realize what mustbe such a meeting. In the lapse of years since our separation, our pathshad so diverged that we had lost trace of each other. I sat down andeagerly listened to a recital of an experience fraught with variedincident. They had moved from Chicago to Monroe city, Missouri, a placewhich (as most will remember) received the baptism of fire, being utterlydestroyed by the Northern troops. My sister not only lost her home, butwas separated from her family for several days. As soon as they weregathered together, and had gained sufficient strength to travel, theyreturned without a resource to Chicago, there to begin life anew, mysister lending a helping hand by opening this business. Her daughter Cora, whom I had left a little girl, was then a graceful young lady, has sincemarried and is living in the city. My brothers, Charles and Howard, both entered the ranks of the army, returned with health impaired from service, and afterward yielded up theirlives. My father had settled with his new family at Farmington, Ill. , and thithermy brother Howard repaired when utterly broken down in health. No mothercould have more tenderly and steadfastly ministered to him, than did myfather's wife; she, her two bachelor brothers and a maiden sisterattending him, in the lingering, languishing hours of suffering, andgently smoothing his "pathway to the grave. " I must not fail to mention among Chicago friends the name of Mrs. Dean, which has been written in letters of light upon a hallowed life page, standing out in bold relief upon the background of years. Her house was myhome, and she was ever a fond mother to me. Her lovely little daughter, Ada, has since matured to womanhood, assumedthe relations and duties of a wife, and is now presiding over an eleganthome in one of the flourishing towns of Iowa. CHAPTER IX. "And when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left. Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory, images and previous thoughts, That shall not die and cannot be destroyed. " For three years longer lowered the lurking war-cloud, and I, among so manyothers, felt its baneful shadow. During this time I made Chicago myheadquarters, taking occasional trips upon the various railroad routesconverging there. Finally I ventured upon a trip to Louisville, Ky. , and, while it was myfirst introduction to that place, so cordially was I received by itscitizens, so much was done to place me at ease, that I could but feel thatI was revisiting a familiar spot and receiving the greetings of old-timefriends; and, in spite of the heavy war pressure, it was financially themost successful visit I ever made, having sold five hundred volumes inthe short space of two weeks, a fact in itself sufficient to exemplify thepervading spirit of its society, not one of whose members gave grudgingly, but with unhesitating and cheerful alacrity. Thence I repaired to the "Blue Grass Country, " the garden spot ofKentucky, and to the city of Lexington, the reputation of whose beautifulwomen has reached from sea to sea and from pole to pole, and the name ofwhose hero, Henry Clay, has made the heart of our nation throb withexultant pride. I was also a stranger there, yet I resolutely repaired tothe Broadway, its principal hotel, trusting to the hospitality of itscitizens. Nor did I "count without a host, " for Mr. Lindsey, theproprietor, received me with courtly cordiality, installing us in anelegant suite of rooms upon the parlor floor, assigning us a servant inconstant attendance, and urging us to feel at home. At breakfast thesucceeding morning he greeted us with the pleasant tidings that he hadalready sold sixteen volumes of my book, after which he came to ourapartment with a huge market basket, which he insisted upon filling withbooks, adding that _I_ was too delicate to go out with them myself. Thiswas a second time filled and emptied, and before dinner there was placedin my hands the proceeds of the sale of one hundred books. My companion, amazed at his success, begged of him to let her know thesecret, whereupon he said, laughingly: "Well, you see, I am a Democrat anda Free Mason. I talked politics to one, gave the society sign to another, and mixed a little religion with all. So I could not fail to succeed. " I could but feel, however, in spite of his jest, that his innate goodnesswas the Midas like touch, and that he bore in his own heart the"philosopher's stone, " transforming all into gold. It did not become necessary for me to appear in the streets of Lexington, yet I reaped a rich harvest of gain, and, above all, found a mine ofwealth in the warm, true, loving, chivalric souls. Nor did the kindnesscease at the fountain-head, for the little ones of Mr. Lindsey's family, laden with bead work, walked the streets of the city, trafficking for mybenefit, returning with little hands empty of trinkets, but filled withmoney. To crown all this kindness I was only allowed, upon leaving, to pay halfthe usual price for board, receiving letters of introduction to theCapital House, of Frankfort, whose proprietor extended the same liberalityof terms, and whose citizens kindly and freely patronized me. Going to Paris, I received so many favors that I never think of Kentuckyand its noble sons and daughters without a thrill of loving gratitude. Mr. Lindsey requested me to write to him upon my return, and, after thelapse of a long time, I did so, receiving a reply bearing the painfultidings that, by security debts, he had been bereft of all his earthlypossessions, but was hopeful of regaining all. Surely such noble soulsshould not be left in the cloud while so many sordid, selfish natures sailupon a sea of success. CHAPTER X. "Hope like the glimmering taper's light, Adorns and cheers the way; And still as darker grows the night, Emits a cheerful ray. " Upon our return from Kentucky we were received by motherly Mrs Dean, withher ever warm welcome; but after the usual greeting a mischievous smilewas seen lurking on her face, and she archly told us that she had a veryattractive addition to her family, in the persons of two bachelorboarders. This served but as a pastime of the moment, and I gave it littlefurther thought, until I was presented to Mr. Arms, a gentleman of mediumheight, head of noble mould and fine poise, dark hair and luxuriant beard, large brown eyes expressive and scintillating, quiet, unobtrusive mannerand somewhat low voice. Methinks that I can trace a meaning smile upon the faces of some of myreaders at the detailed description of one they deem too blind to see. Notso, there is a strange mysterious masonry in human souls, and while "Few are the hearts, whence one same touch, Bids the sweet fountain flow, " an indescribable consciousness of mutual interest came with this meeting;and while I little dreamed that this stranger would in after time stand bymy side in the _nearest_ and _dearest_ relation of life, even that of ahusband; his face, his form, his voice, his soul were all to me an openvolume, which by that inner sight, I read in every minute detail, and thenand there were all these photographed upon my heart. Before I had taken my next leave of Chicago I had passed through all thephases of doubt, in which I deeply questioned my own heart, seeking therethe solution of why I had inspired an interest in this stranger. Eversince my sickness in Philadelphia I had been a comparative invalid, devoting much of my time to the restoration of health, and above all therecovery of that sight which was still so dear to me, and so hard torelinquish without a struggle. So with my depleted strength, moderatemeans and somewhat darkened hopes, I seemed to myself a very unattractiveobject. Be this as it may, while no formal engagement bound us, we partedas acknowledged lovers. Miss Rogers entered into business for herself, and I went unattended toYpsilanti, Michigan, to be under the charge of a physician, who was totest the effect of electrical treatment as a means of restoration tosight. While he was deeply imbued with interest in my case, and gave meevery care and attention while I remained under his roof, he wasunfortunately wedded to one whose cold, unsympathetic suspicious naturemade a pandemonium for all within the circle of her baleful influence. Ofsuch unions Watts has truly said: Logs of green wood that quench the coals, Are married just like sordid souls; With osiers for a bend. To her I am indebted for many a dark and tearful hour, when not only myheart, but my eyes, needed perfect repose. But beside this thorn-tree in the home garden bloomed for me, and for all, a beautiful flower, in the person of her niece, Josie McMath, who, withher loving, gentle touch, toned down the inequalities and smiled away thefrowns. She and I became fast friends, and afterward freely exchanged confidences, telling to each other a mutual tale of girlish hope and trustfulaffection. During my stay in Ypsilanti I received a letter from Rachel Weaver, whohad been bereft of her mother and had lost every means of support. Sheearnestly desired to return to me; and as the letter brought with it themagnetism of a former attachment, I wrote to her to come to me. Finding the prospect of recovery through my present treatment hopeless, Iwent to Ionia, Michigan, repairing to the house of Dr. Baird, where Iawaited tidings of Rachel Weaver, and whom I met at Detroit, when wereturned to Chicago, where I was met by Mr. Arms, and who, soon as anopportunity offered, rehearsed to me the workings of his own mind duringmy absence. He told me he had been seriously thinking over the matter, and aftercarefully reviewing his own feelings he could arrive at but oneconclusion, viz, that I had become necessary to his happiness, and that hehoped for a mutual plan for speedy union. He owned a farm in Iowa, which he proposed to sell, and invest theproceeds in a home in Chicago. He also begged a promise that I would never make another attempt torecover my sight, which gave me an assurance that my blindness was nobarrier to his love. With a strange flutter of emotion my heart responded to his sweetassurances, and, as a weary child confidingly rests upon its mother'sbreast, so did my tired soul trustingly repose in the safe haven of hismanly love, and cast its anchor there! safe amid the lowering clouds oflife, serene amid its surging seas and wildest waves; for arching all wasthe Iris of bright-hued hope. CHAPTER XI. "Visions come and go; Shapes of resplendent beauty round me throng; From angels' lips I seem to hear the flow Of soft and holy song. " "'Tis nothing now-- When heaven is opening on my sightless eyes, When airs from paradise refresh my brow, That earth in darkness lies. " Leaving Chicago I traveled via Michigan Southern Railroad to the littletown of Jonesville, Michigan, the home of my childhood and the scene of somany fond and sad recollections. Stopping at the village hotel for some preparation, I wended my way to thelittle cemetery. There was a picture in memory of a green hill-side slope, which, whenever the dark funeral day was recalled, formed a vivid andprominent feature of the scene; and so, upon that day, I found within thelittle "city of the silent" the identical hill-side, but, with the mostscrutinizing search, failed to find the sacred mound holding the mosthallowed form of the home group, and over which were shed the bitter tearsof childhood's grief, more poignant and more lasting than we usuallyattribute to that period of life. In the hope of eliciting some information I entered a cottage near by, which I found inhabited by aged people; but as they had been residentsonly seven years, and twenty-four years had elapsed since my mother waslaid to rest, they could give me no light or aid, save the simplesuggestion that there were a number of graves covered by the undergrowthof shrubbery, and perchance hers might be one of them. Accepting thepossibility I found the one I sought, which could not fail to berecognized, for strange to say, time had dealt so gently that the slenderpicket fence was undecayed by his "effacing; lingers, " and the namepainted upon the little wooden head-board was distinctly visible. Groupedin quadrangular growth were four little trees, gracefully arching in abowery drapery over the grave, as if nature in strange sympathy with themourners left behind had offered this tribute to the noble mother. Howvividly came back again the long lost childhood home, and as the windsighed through the leafy boughs, seemed to sob a sad requiem for the dead. There was a little song I had learned in the Institution, and had so oftensang, when unknown to those around me every chord in my sad heart seemed "As harp-strings broken asunder, By music they throbbed to express. " Then the sweet, sad words come back in memory, "I hear the soft winds sighing, Through every bush and tree; Where my dear mother's lying, Away from love and me. Tears from mine eyes are weeping, And sorrow shades my brow; Long time has she been sleeping-- I have no mother now. " After a long, lingering look, I turned sadly away, going to the littlemarble yard in the vicinity, and seeking the proper person, Icommunicated to him the desire for a head and foot-stone for the grave, together with marble corner stones to support an iron chain for anenclosure, asking him for an estimate of the cost. Looking at me with almost tearful emotion, he said, when the blind girl, after the lapse of twenty-four years, comes back to offer a tribute to thememory of her mother, the result of her own unaided earnings, I can but begenerous, and offered to do all for half the usual price. Knowinginstinctively that I could trust him, I left all in his hands, and havenever had occasion to feel that I had misplaced my confidence. Before leaving the village I visited a clothing store which had formerlybeen the tin shop in which my father worked; and again I was a child, mylittle form perched upon the wooden work-bench, and my ears soothed by themelody of my father's song, for ever as he sat at his daily labor he lentit the charm of his sweet voice. Strange to say, there was no one there who knew the "blind girl. " All mymother's friends had vanished, and "they were all gone, the dear familiarfaces. " I fondly bade adieu to Jonesville with the consciousness of havingperformed a sad duty, and proceeded with my avocation, with my wontedsuccess, until we reached Toledo, Ohio, where Miss Weaver was attackedwith a serious illness which kept me in constant attendance upon her forseveral weeks. Her physician assuring me that she would be unable to resume her dutiesfor some time longer, we decided it best for all to send her East. Procuring her a ticket, and placing her under kind protection, I sent herto her friends in New York. I supplied her place with a lady I found in my boarding house, and who Iregret to record was in strange contrast with my former companions. Goingto Pittsburg we stopped at the Merchants' Hotel, near the depot, where, after a singularly short time, she was visited by a gentleman whom sherepresented to be a cousin, and while their whispered conversation in myroom (a place where I deemed it expedient for them to meet) aroused somesuspicion in my mind, I hushed all thought of wrong and hoped for thebest. She further stated that she had an uncle in Alleghany city, and thithershe went to spend the Sunday, leaving me in the hotel unattended; and fromsubsequent revelations I must fain believe the time was devoted to theso-called cousin. Upon her return on Monday she suddenly declared her intention of leavingme, adding that she cared not what became of me. I calmly awaited a lullin the excitement of this announcement, and told her kindly that if shewould remain with, me another week I would take her to her mother in Ohio, and leave her in her hands, but she haughtily and peremptorily declined, and so left me alone, and, as she supposed, uncared for. But I was so confident of protection that I felt not even a rankling pangat the cruel injustice she had done me, but quietly waited until assuredshe was gone, when I left my room, groped my way through the unfamiliarhall and knocked at the first door I found, which fortunately proved to bethat of a lady named Harris. In as few words as possible I told her thestory of my desertion, and had sympathy and congratulation from all in thehouse at my escape from one who had seemed to them so coarse andunsympathetic. The clerk of the hotel, being a brother of Mr. Loughery, my old timeteacher, it was thought best to appeal to him. He met me with anunmistakable expression of sorrow on his face, and as soon as he couldcommand language to do so, communicated the tidings of the sudden demiseof his brother in Greensburg, Pa. , he having fallen dead in the street. Ashe was about leaving, assistance from that source became impossible; yet, overwhelmed as he was with this crushing sorrow, he urged me to accompanyhim to the funeral, an invitation I could not accept, for a renewal of thesad memories of my instructor and friend would have been _more_ than Icould bear, so I bade him adieu, and committed myself to the tender mercyof Mrs. Harris, who kindly accompanied me to the post office and depot, and started me safely toward Chicago, a letter being received which I knewto be from Mr. Arms, from whom I had been awaiting tidings for three, anxious, weary weeks. With a consciousness of some impending cloud, yet unable to read the dearpen tracery, I never before so deeply felt the blight of blindness, forthe contents were too sacred for the desecration of stranger's sight. So all through that weary journey, softened as it was by the unremittingkindness of all the railroad officials and attendants, I carried acrushing weight of anxiety and suspense, until I reached Chicago, and dearMrs. Dean, who at once revealed to my waiting heart the contents of theletter. Mr. Arms was in Indiana, and very ill at the time of writing (three weeksprevious) and earnestly desired my presence. The weary hours of nightdragged their slow lengths away, and the morning found me speeding on asfast as steam could carry me, toward Indiana, yet all _too slow_ for myfears and forebodings. I found him scarcely able to be carried to the post of duty, where, at themill being built under his superintendence, he watched the progress ofthe work. 'Tis needless to say how joyous was my welcome and how soon the invalidgave signs of convalescence, under the influence of my long hoped forpresence. CHAPTER XII. "We strive to read, as we may best, This city, like an ancient palimpsest, To bring to light upon the blotted page The mournful record of an earlier age, That, pale and half-effaced, lies hidden away Beneath the fresher writings of to-day. " After spending a fortnight with the invalid, in which "the golden hours onangel's wings" sped on and away, bringing a returning glow of health tohis cheeks, strength to his steps and hope to his heart, so with renewedresolution I started upon my mission, first going to Pecatonica to visitmy brother William and family, and to complete my plans for travel. Soon after my arrival I was introduced by my sister-in-law to Miss HattieHudson, and by that inward sympathy which unites all kindred natures intoone, and the strange recognition of soul with soul, we were at oncefriends. She was indeed "A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command. " One who, aside from her physical attractions, possessed all the charms ofinner grace and beauty, idealizing and spiritualizing her nature. We at once also agreed that she should remain with me, and with such rarecompanionship I started East. Stopped at the beautiful city of Cleveland, so rural and yet so metropolitan in its characteristics, where, followingfast upon the din of business and the rush of trade, steals the sweetmurmur of waters, the "wave of woods" and flow of fountains, the shadedpark and perfumed pasture. Here, aside from the cheer of business success, my heart was gladdened bya meeting with my old friend, Mrs. Bigelow, and little Willie, the whilomblind boy I had met in New York city, and toward whom I had been drawn bythat "touch of nature" which "makes the whole world kin. " He was now an elegant, educated gentleman, who, among his manyaccomplishments, numbered that of music, a science he had so thoroughlymastered, and with the "concord of sweet sounds" he helped us all to whileaway many an otherwise weary hour. I visited the various places of note upon the New York Central Railway, thoroughly and successfully canvassing all, and reaching New York city, was received by my uncle Henry Deems with such a welcome as only a noble, soulful man can extend. After a short, sweet respite from care, we turnedtoward New England, the truly classic ground of America, every foot ofwhose "sacred soil" has been trod by pilgrim feet and hallowed by theirhearts' devotion. Went to Plymouth, Massachusetts, and spent almost an entire day at PilgrimHall in researches and study of its musty and time-worn relics. It was against the rules to open the cases containing these treasures ofthe past to spectators, all of whom were forced to look at them throughdoors of glass, even as the bereft ones are ofttimes allowed to look atloved lineaments only through the lid of a closed casket; but thegentleman in charge made mine an exceptional case, and, to use his ownlanguage, as my sight lay in the sense of feeling, I should certainlytouch these relics. All the interest of varied historical association was imparted to me, andmy fingers allowed to rest upon everything. I closed this day, so rich inresearch, with gratitude to him for his thoughtful kindness. There was in process of erection a monument upon Plymouth Hock, and Istood upon that granite shrine, where first knelt the Pilgrim Fathers, andpictured in my mind's eye the landing of the Mayflower and the grouping ofher freight of human souls, majestically towering above them all thestalwart form of Miles Standish, with his "muscles and sinews of iron, "and close by the lithe, clinging, delicate form of "That beautiful rose of love That bloomed for him by the wayside, And was the first to die Of all who came in the Mayflower. " These and all their attendants passed through my fancy as they knelt uponPlymouth Rock, and with the surging sea for a symphony, sent up theirfirst song of praise and deliverance, and in that hour of reverie therewas to me, indeed, "A rapture by the lonely shore; A society where none intrudes. By the deep sea--and music in its roar. " Then again I moved away in almost rapt entrancement, and soon stood in theold cemetery beside the moss-grown memorial stones which had stood amidthe flight of over two centuries, and emotions deep and strange struggledin my breast, sealed by that _golden, sacred_ silence which sanctifies theunutterable. Prominent among other objects there, was the resting-place of the Judsons, to whose memory a suitable tomb had been erected. Going to Boston I spent three delightful weeks at the home of Mr. And Mrs. Little, a dear old couple who had been married long enough to havecelebrated their "Golden Wedding. " The old gentleman was wont to say, thatthese fifty years were all links in the "honey-moon, " but that he had notas yet reached the end of the first "honey-moon. " So these two old lovers, like "John Anderson my Joe, " and his devoted companion, had climbed thehill and were standing "thegither at its foot" in happy contentment, looking toward the golden sunset and catching the gleam of the lightbeyond. I of course visited "Boston Common, " "Bunker Hill Monument, " "Old SouthChurch, " the museums and galleries of painting, rare collections ofstatuary, and even heard the "Great Organ. " These localities are allfraught with interest, but too familiar to tourists to require descriptionor comment; but I cannot leave the readers of this chapter without atribute of praise to the high attainments of this "Athens of America, " anda word of gratitude for their kindness. I found not the cold, phlegmaticnature which had been depicted as that of the Yankee, nor did I see thetight purse-grip so often attributed to them, for I have nowhere metwarmer hearts and more generous patronage than there, and indeed all NewEngland was pervaded by an equal spirit of liberality and kindness. Lowell and the other manufacturing towns I visited were to me objects ofwonderful interest, the music of whose looms and shuttles, belts andwheels, engines and flame, will ever come in vivid variety amid the manyvoiced memories of life and its mystic music. CHAPTER XIII. "There is an old belief that in the embers Of all things, their primordial form exists; And cunning Alchemists could recreate The rose, with all its members, From its own ashes--but without the bloom, Without the least perfume. Ah me! what wonder-working, occult science Can from the ashes of our hearts Once more the rose of youth restore? What craft of alchemy can bid defiance To time, and change; and for a single hour, Renew this phantom flower?" Taking New Hampshire in my route, I was pained to find the season too faradvanced to admit a trip to White Mountains, and among the great objectsof interest I must of necessity omit this "Noblest Roman of them all, " andpass silently by the grandeur of this rugged mountain scenery. I went to Waterbury, Vermont, the birth-place of Mr. Arms, and, after ashort rest at the hotel, walked through the meadow, and crossed the cleartrout-stream he had so often pictured to me as most prominent among thereminiscences of his boyhood. Going to the homestead now hallowed to me ashis birth-place, I was kindly received by the widow of his brother, whoneeded only the knowledge of my acquaintance with her friends in the Westto place me upon a familiar footing, and I became an earnest, attentivelistener to her well rendered rehearsal of the pranks of his urchin-hood. So was this day marked as memorable in the calendar of life. FromWaterbury I went to Burlington, and thence to Montpelier, and finding theLegislature in session the sale of my books was greatly enhanced by theliberal patronage of its members; and here as elsewhere I had reason to tothank our national convocations. The rigor of the approaching New England winter warned me of the necessityfor going South. While on the Hudson River Railroad I was accosted by agentleman who asked me if I could read the raised letters, and learningthat I could, he begged me to accept a copy of the Bible in that style oflettering; I of course did so, and have this volume still in mypossession. Going to Chicago I found Mr. Arms established in business, which gave mean additional hope for future happiness, and 'tis needless to say, "I built myself a castle So _stately_, _grand_ and fair; I built myself a castle, A castle in the air. " Delicate lungs and irritating cough, sent me still further South, and Ireluctantly left Chicago and all I held so dear. CHAPTER XIV. "There is a special Providence In the fall of a sparrow. " "There is a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them as we will. " I have never had occasion so especially to note the over-ruling majesty ofa supreme power as in my next journey, the circumstances of which I amabout to relate. I went via Indianapolis, Ind. , and Louisville, Ky. , to Memphis, Tenn. Thelatter place rivals its sister cities in generous patronage, for, althoughthe whole southern country was so thoroughly devastated, I met withsuccess throughout its length and breadth. I was luxuriously entertained at the Southern Hotel of Memphis and, as Ihad been over most of the railroad routes, I felt anxious to go to NewOrleans by water, and for that purpose sought the general agent of theriver line of steamers, anticipating the same liberality which hadcharacterized the railroads in granting passes. I was most haughtily received by this official, rudely addressed, anddecidedly and irrevocably denied a pass. Nothing daunted, I walked to the levee, where lay the steamer PlatteValley, almost ready to leave, and besought Hattie, who was ever mycounselor, to pay our passage, and, in spite of repulse, enjoy the riverscenery. In her judgment it seemed better not to do so, but to use ourrailroad passes, as usual. I cheerfully accepted her decision. The PlatteValley started on her trip with brilliant prospects for a safe andsuccessful passage, but seven miles below Memphis she sank in the deepwaters of the Mississippi. Many of her passengers, especially the femaleportion, were taking supper in the lower cabin, and, having no means ofescape, perished. Hence I had reason to be thankful to Hattie's decision, to the agent's rude rebuff, and to that over ruling power which ofttimes, in our blindness, we fail to discern. At Chattanooga I, of course, visited the National Cemetery, where lie theashes of so many fallen heroes. Ascended Lookout Mountain to the scene ofthe "Battle in the Clouds, " and I could almost evoke the presence ofGeneral Joe Hooker, with his once grand proportions and noble mien, sodeservedly famed as The Hero of Lookout Mountain. I afterward ascendedanother hill, which, although a pigmy in comparison with the LeviathanLookout, would, in the monotony of our prairie country, be ranked as amountain. It was upon its top were constructed the government water works, and upon which my brother William was employed for two years, occupying asa residence during that time a little cabin on the height, which wasplainly perceptible from the window of my hotel quarters, but which Idesired to visit in person, a source of real pleasure, perhaps enhanced bythe obstacles I had to surmount in the ascent. At Vicksburg, Miss. , I was followed by the same tidal wave of success, inspite of the sad stringency of the times and the cruel effects of war. While there a gentleman took us in his carriage to the earthworksconstructed by the soldiers as a fortification, taking great pains toexplain all to me, and allowed me to use the usual sense of feeling, whichso often served in lieu of sight. At Jackson, Miss. , I was a guest of the same hotel in which lived GeneralBeauregard, who was Superintendent of the Jackson and New Orleans Railway, and who, aside from other acts of kindness and civility, freely tenderedme a pass over his road. My stay at the "Crescent City" was not only marked by great businesssuccess, but the three weeks of sight-seeing was a "continued feast. " Although it was now the middle of January, flowery spring "seemedlingering in the lap of winter. " The perfume of the violet, the scent ofthe rose, the gladness of the sun-beam and the brightness of the skieswill ever linger in memory, while the geniality and goodness of its peoplewill, in the "dimness of distance, " glimmer like a soft love-light in thelife of the blind girl. I visited the French market, and drank a cup of the famed and fragrantMocha; went to its cemeteries, which, in their flowery beauty, robbeddeath of its terrors; took a drive upon the shell road to LakePontchartrain; walked in Jackson Square; and, indeed, visited alllocalities of note in and around the city. Should my curious readers wish to know how I could enjoy and describe allthese, the answer will be found in my companion and friend, Hattie, who, with her wonderful adaptation and ingenuity, added to her remarkabledescriptive powers, vividly pictured all to me, and, through an unwritten, indescribable language known only to ourselves, it became a system ofmental telegraphy and soul language. There is in Europe a blind man, whose name I cannot recall, who is ledfrom Court to Court and from palace to palace by a frail young girl, andbetween these there exists the same mystic yet unerring language. Whatthis little fairy is to him such was Hattie Hudson to me, or, to use thelanguage of another: "She was my sight; The ocean to the river of my thoughts, Which terminated all. " CHAPTER XV. "Devotion wafts the mind above, But Heaven itself descends in love; A feeling from the Godhead caught. To wean from earth each sordid thought; A ray of him who formed the whole, A glory circling round the soul. " Leaving New Orleans with the fervid fire which the warm hearts of itspeople had kindled still burning in my breast, and the many memories ofits fragrance and sunlight, and beauty, forever embalmed and enshrined inmy heart, I crossed in one of the great gulf steamers to Mobile, the homeof the celebrated Madame Le Verte; but, as her continued travels call herso often away from the city in which she so gracefully and so heartfullydispensed the hospitalities of home-life, and opened wide her doors to thestranger, I was not privileged to meet her; nor can I note many of themanifold celebrities of the city. I can only say I found it as beautifulas a dream; its skies of sweet Italian softness; its waters clear andpure as "Pyerian Springs;" its winds gentle as the whisper of an Angel;its flowers gorgeous in tint and redolent with fragrance; the spirits ofits people attuned to harmony with their beautiful surroundings, andoverflowing with generous sentiment. Without the slightest intimation upon my own part, I was presented withpasses over the Mobile and Ohio Railway, by which I went to Cairo, andthence by the magnet, which so often drew my spirit toward the pole toChicago. After a brief respite and rest I went to Minnesota, in whose life-givingclimate I spent the summer. Passing over the oft-told tale of financialsuccess, I must address myself to those who-- "Love the haunts of nature, Love the sunshine of the meadow, Love the shadow of the forest, Love the wind among the branches And the rushing of great rivers Through their palisades and pine trees; And the thunder of the mountains, Whose innumerable echoes Flap like eagles in their eyries. " To these I must revert to the many beauteous haunts and hidden retreatsof nature, whose varied phases of quiet sweetness and sublime grandeur areheightened and intensified by the charm of legend and of song. I visited the falls of "Minne-ha-ha, " and could almost fancy the silverysong and light laughter of the Indian girl in the happy purling music ofthe waterfall, and, as it glided off into the gentler murmur of thestream, below, I could imagine the still sadder song of the spiritspeeding to rest in "The Islands of the Blessed, To the Land of the Hereafter. " Minneapolis and St. Paul were visited, but they are all too celebrated toneed note. Back again to the "Garden City, " and to the one who had so patientlywaited for the sunshine of success and the consummation of our plans forthe future; but, as "the best made plans of mice and men aft gang aglee, "we found ourselves no nearer the goal. One day he said to me: "Mary, wehave waited to be richer, but have still grown poorer; so is it not bestthat, in defiance of our apparently adverse fate, we unite our interestsand our lives?" So hand in hand we resolved to share the joys and sorrowsof life, each catching the burden of the old refrain-- "Thy smile could make a summer Where darkness else would be. " We repaired to the house of Dr. O. H. Tiffany, and, in the presence of afew friends, were quietly married, after which we made an unostentatiouswedding trip to Wisconsin to visit some of his family friends. With them all the "wonder grew" why it was that, among the many smileshitherto lavished upon him from beautiful eyes, he should have chosen theblind girl. His reiterated assertion of faith in the purity andunselfishness of the life, and the inner light of the soul, found in thema ready acceptance of his choice, and they warmly extended to her all theconfidence and affection of kindred hearts. CHAPTER XVI. "To know, to esteem, to love, and then to _part_, Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart. " A short time after our marriage Mr. Arms was offered a contract tosuperintend the construction of a mill at Woodbine, Iowa, which it seemedbest for him to accept; and finding there were no comfortableaccommodations for a lady in that place, he left me in a boarding house inChicago, with Hattie for a companion. It was indeed hard for us to part sosoon, and the pang was rendered more bitter by the fact of his impairedhealth, for he had never entirely recovered from the effects of themalarial fever contracted in a miasmatic district in Indiana. After his departure time hung so heavily upon my hands, my presentaimless, carefree life being in such striking contrast to the activity andexcitement of travel, that I secretly resolved, as separation wasinevitable, to resume my old life, and thus be of assistance to myhusband. Unknown to him I wrote to my publishers for a fresh supply ofbooks, and started for Michigan, the State which held within itsboundaries the first scenes of sorrow my young life had known, when, amidhelpless and hopeless hours of persecution, my girlhood seemed rayless andforsaken, but when kind friends had come in the hour of need, and helpfulhands had lifted me from the dark depths. From there I wrote to Mr. Arms, communicating to him my intention to travel. He sent me a touching reply, saying he had never intended me to battle with the outside world again, but, if I deemed it best, it was perhaps well. I had cherished a desire to visit the place in which I lived with thefamily of Ruthven, for then I could look above and beyond the clouds ofearly days, and discern the many golden gleams and rosy rays, the manyhalcyon hours of happiness and hope. So, after the spirit has passedthrough the purifying fires of persecution, it can calmly look back witha triumphant soul song. But these old scenes were in places so remote andinaccessible that I was forced to forego the pleasure of visiting them;but in many other places I found the old familiar landmarks gone, and thetransformations of time had placed in their stead forms and faces new andstrange. CHAPTER XVII. "A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Burns with one love, with one resentment glows. " After remaining in Michigan until late in the winter, we crossed over toCanada via the Grand Trunk Railway. Our first stopping place was at SaintMary's, where at the depot we found a nice sleigh awaiting us with, allthe necessary appurtenances for comfort, in the way of robes and blankets. Deposited at the hotel in safety, we handed the driver seventy-five centsand were astonished at having fifty cents returned. Supposing there wassome mistake, we demurred, when he said, "My charge is two York shillingsor twenty-five cents United States money. " Surely we thought the spirit ofYankee greed has not yet penetrated the Provinces, when two women, threetrunks, satchels, &c. , can be comfortably transported for so small a sum. At the hotel we were at once ushered into a warm and comfortable suite ofrooms, a pleasant contrast to the usual season of weary waiting for aroom. Indeed during our entire stay in the town there was not one omissionof attention to our comfort. At Port Hope we were guests of Mr. And Mrs. Mackey, of the Mackey House, and received from them such kindness as we could scarce expect from oldfriends. Just here let me say that I had heard so many sneering allusionsto the character of the "Canucks, " that I was quite unprepared for theuniversal polish, elegance, cordiality and kindness of the Canadians. We went from Port Hope to Toronto, the home of the celebrated CanadianOculist, Doctor Roseborough, whose fame had been heralded in every portionof the Provinces I had visited. My past experience had so disgusted mewith eye surgeons that for one week I had daily passed his house, instinctively avoiding an entrance. One day, however, I quite asinstinctively sought an interview with the Doctor, impelled by somestrange impulse I could not well define. I was familiarly but courteouslygreeted with these words, "You have been in the city an entire week, andyet have not called to see me. " In reply I frankly confessed that Iavoided upon principle the members of his branch of the surgicalprofession. His subtle magnetism would soon have dispelled all feeling of repulsion;and before I was conscious of the degree of confidence he inspired, Ifound myself almost persuaded to accept his cordial invitation to tea. Theonly barrier I could interpose was want of acquaintance with his wife, andthat obstacle was soon removed. We found her a most intelligent andcharming person, and her mother, Mrs. Reeves, who was present, adignified, stately English lady of "the old regime. " In a few moments after our meeting all her reserve vanished, and sheimpulsively and almost tearfully drew near. She told in trembling tones ofa blind sister who had passed away some time before, and while she hadcome in contact with so many who had resorted to her son-in-law fortreatment, she had never before met one who resembled her sister, whilein me she seemed to have found her counterpart. This became at once a bond between us, and throwing off all her usualreserve, she insisted upon having us leave the hotel and spend theremainder of the time of our stay with her. So pronounced was hercharacter and so peremptory her demand, there was no room for refusal, andwhen in a succeeding conversation with her son I expressed somecompunction at our stay, I was at once silenced by the remark that hismother was a woman of marked idiosyncracies, and when she so distinguishedan individual as to make them a guest the decision was final, and I mustnot wound her by an expression of possible impropriety. It is needless tosay I left this family with deep regret, carrying letters from DoctorRoseborough; and in my visits to the various places en route to Montreal Ifound these credentials of great service. On arriving at Montreal we were handsomely domiciled at St. Lawrence Hall. Our room was large and airy, and our bed stood in one of those quaint oldalcoves so peculiar to the English bed-chamber; while the table d'hote, with its savory roast beef, plumb pudding, etc. , was equallycharacteristic of British comfort. This was during the blustering month of March, and all who have visitedthat city at the season in which it becomes necessary to cut away the icefrom the streets will remember the pitfalls and realize how difficult itwould be for the blind, even with the kindest and most careful attendance, to avoid danger. I escaped without any greater mishap than a fall into oneof these excavations, attended by a wetting of my feet, as well as athorough soaking of five books and their consequent loss. I had, however, four weeks of successful canvassing, and during that time the condition ofthe streets had quite improved. As my payments were made in the current coin of Canada, and I had theadvantage of easy access to the States, I exchanged my silver at a premiumof thirty-five per cent, and my gold at forty per cent. , thus greatlyenhancing my profits. In this connection I must acknowledge the kindnessof the residents of Montreal, as well as their more than liberalpatronage, which I will ever gratefully remember. Returning to Toronto I rejoined my friends, and, after another shortseason with them, I went to Ottawa, the delightful Capital of Ontario, then Canada West, arriving there about two days after the news of theassassination of D'Arcy McGee, his household being in mourning, and thewhole community convulsed and sobbing in responsive sorrow. This martyred man seemed to have had a singular premonition of death, which came foreshadowed in a dream. He was visiting some intimate ladyfriends, and after dinner threw himself upon a lounge for a short siesta, when, suddenly springing up from a disturbed slumber, he exclaimed: "Ibelieve I am going to be murdered!" Whereupon he related his dream. Hesaid he thought himself in a little boat, floating upon a stream, andaccompanied by two men, who, in spite of his convulsive efforts to nearthe shore, persistently allowed him to float down the stream to the fallsbelow, over which his boat was madly hurled, when, by his imaginary fall, he was awakened with a strange and premonitory dread in his heart. Hisdevoted wife survived him but a short time, and was found dead at herbedside in the attitude of prayer, where, as her spirit was wafted awayupon the wings of devotion, her face was left placid and smiling in itslast sleep. "So united were they in life, And in death were not divided. " CHAPTER XVIII. "Howe'er it be, it seems to me 'Tis only noble to be good, Since hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood. " The various localities in Ottawa being so familiar to so many readers andtourists, I will not dwell upon them at length, but suffice it to say Ivisited the various Government Departments, and could not fail to bedeeply impressed by the truly elegant manners and courtly bearing of theofficials. In one of these Departments I found an elderly gentleman, slightlyafflicted with deafness. According to the etiquette of their businessregulations I was received in standing attitude, and in the few moments'interview were condensed the thoughts and feelings of years. He bought mybook, for which he paid two dollars and a half in gold, and, as he bade megood-bye, he stooped and kissed my forehead with the stately grace of acavalier of the Crusades, which act of emotional deference was heightenedby the hot tears which fell from his eyes and dropped upon my cheeks, andthe fervor of his repeated--"God bless you, my child. " At Hamilton we called at the Mute and Blind Asylums, which were thencombined in one, where we were received with great kindness, everypossible attention being lavished upon us to heighten our interest andrender our visit enjoyable. Going to Buffalo we had a social, cozy visitwith an aunt of Hattie's, after which we proceeded to Niagara Falls. It is no wonder that, as a nation, we are proud of Niagara, which, ingrandeur and sublimity, rivals any waterfall of note in the world. Takinga carriage we drove to the Canada side, where are so many localities ofhistorical interest, and where, at certain points, are found the finestviews of the falls. I remained in the carriage while Hattie went under thedashing, roaring, maddening sheet of water, which feat, as well as theusual one of a trip in the Maid of the Mist, seems necessary, in itsapparent peril, to a full appreciation of the awful and stupendousgrandeur of this phenomenon of nature. I walked over Suspension Bridge in order to realize its constructionthrough the sense of feeling, and our driver seemed much amused at mymanner of seeing. Dismissing our carriage, we walked over Goat Island, inorder to better take in the diversified beauty. The old man at the bridge, in consideration of my affliction, refused to accept the usual fee; sohard-hearted as they seem, in their spirit of gain, they have still somevulnerable point, some avenue left open to the heart, thus confirming thehumanitarian sentiment, that no nature is utterly depraved. Entering into conversation with the old bridge-tender, I was amused andsurprised at his fund of anecdote and wealth of wit. Among other playfuljests he declared he could define the exact condition of heart in eachindividual who crossed over, as accurately as we note the mercury in thebarometer for atmospheric probabilities, even going so far as to say thathe could guess the "Yes" or "No, " and consequently the engagement ornon-engagement of each returning couple. We followed the meandering paths and shaded seclusions, where tree andflower, rock and stream make up the fairy realm, and crowned all bystanding in the tower on Table Rock, our hearts awed and reverent and ourlips inaudibly whispering "Be still, and know that I am God. " Leaving by the Great Western Railway we stopped at London, Canada, whereHattie had friends, and where I found a letter from my husband, who hadreturned from Woodbine, and being about to establish himself for a time inMilwaukee, where he was to build a mill, he desired me to return at onceand accompany him. Without delay we sped on in the lightning train toChicago, my impatient heart keeping time with the winged flight of thecars. CHAPTER XIX. "And the night shall be filled with music, And the thoughts that infest the day Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, And as quietly steal away. " Our hearts beating with high hopes and expectant joys, we once moresettled down to happiness in Milwaukee. A joyful trio were we, my husband, Hattie and myself. Our location in the Lake House, then one of the mostpopular little hotels in the city, augured well for a pleasant sojourn. Mrs. Towle, the proprietress, was one who had deeply drank of the cup ofsorrow, the first draught coming from the hand of one who had vowed herhis love and protection, and who, after twenty-five years of wedded life, deserted her. When, with apparent penitence, he returned to her, he wasreceived to her forgiving heart, and then came the draining of the bitterdregs in a second desertion. With her two children as her only dower, she patiently took up the burdenof life, and bravely bore all, supporting and educating her two daughters, and never losing dignity or caste. No more delightful summer resort could be found than Milwaukee, familiarlyknown as the "Cream City, " from the light straw or creamy tint of thebrick, which forms so large a part in the architecture of that city, andgives an air of charming cleanliness to the buildings. This shade is saidby chemists to be the result of the want of the usual element of iron inthe clay of which it is made, and so curious is it to strangers that ithas become a familiar saying that few people leave Milwaukee withoutcarrying away "a brick in their hats, " this being doubtless in part ajesting allusion to the apparently all-pervading spirit of the gayGambrinus apparent there and the numberless manufactories of the foaminglager. Yet methinks this is no longer a more striking characteristic therethan elsewhere, in spite of the predominant German element. The word "Milwaukee" signifies rich land, and the truthful significance ofthe appellation is amply testified by the rare flowers, green gardens, fertile fields and towering forests in and around it, all of which are theoutgrowth of its soil of rich alluvial loam. Milwaukee is a city whose animus is in striking contrast to the daring, dashing spirit of Chicago, but its substantial wealth, cash basis, andslow, careful, steady progress, have led it on to sure success, so wellattested by the quiet and substantial elegance of its business buildings, the palatial proportions and exquisite finish of its private dwellings, with their appropriate appointments of cultivated conservatories, gorgeousgardens and rare works of art. The well stored libraries evince anadvanced degree of cultivation, and the literary coteries a prevailingelement of the dilletante spirit, while the plain, rich habiliments, andthe elegant turnouts with liveried attendants, indicate a degree offashion and style unknown in many larger cities; and their manufactoriesand business houses suggest great mercantile advancement, their elevatorsand shipping a high order of commercial greatness. Their harbor is one of the finest in the world, and by travelers is saidto resemble that of the beautiful Naples. Indeed, the extended view fromthe drive upon Prospect Street is without a rival. Beautiful Boulevardeswere then in quite advanced process of construction, and in time must rankamong the most shaded, flowery walks and drives in the world. Swiftly sped the summer hours in fair Milwaukee, with its gay gladiolasand blue skies, its crystal waters and grand old forests, until it ceasedto be a wonder why so many health and pleasure seekers made it a resort, and that it became, during the warm season, a fashionable watering place. One of our most frequent rendezvous was upon the lake shore, where, in asweet secluded spot, far away from the throng which resorted there, arough log for a seat, we were wont to sit for hours, listening to themusic of the bands upon the excursion boats as they came and went withtheir scores of pleasure seekers, and the still more harmonious melody ofthe waves as they rose and fell at our feet in low, soft, musical murmurs. Among the many attractions of Milwaukee is that of one of the severalnoble institutions erected by our Government and known as NationalSoldiers' Homes. It is located four miles west of the city, and is accessible both byElizabeth Street and Grand Avenue, two of the most delightful drives ofMilwaukee. Its eight hundred acres are beautifully enclosed and finely cultivated, being laid out by one of its former chaplains, according to the mostartistic rules of landscape gardening; every coil and curve of avenuebeing a line of beauty, and its fifteen miles of drive startling the eyewith its grouping of lake and garden, bridge and stream, fern-clad ravinesand sunny heights. Amid its dense groves are fairy pavilions, in which its maimed and scarredveterans discourse sweet music by a silver cornet band, without onegrating sound or discordant note. Without the rigid discipline of active array life, these veterans havesufficient military discipline for comfort and order, and one cannot failto remark the systematic precision which characterizes the performance oftheir daily duties. I cannot say all I should like to say in regard to these institutions, butsuffice it to say that I found many sympathizing and some old friendsamong the blind, and was glad to learn that these soldiers, as a class, ranked among the most cultivated inmates. I cannot close my chapter upon this subject without alluding to themagnanimous generosity of the Milwaukeeans in their donation of onehundred thousand dollars to the National Home Fund, the proceeds of aSanitary Fair, in which white hands and deft fingers, faithfully andpatriotically wrought, for the benefit of the disabled soldiers, and fewcities could boast of a nobler donation. I must also allude to the highappreciation in which the Homes are held by foreign dignitaries. Miss Emily Faithful, the fair amanuensis and confidential friend of QueenVictoria, while visiting America in an official capacity, spent a day insocially visiting and carefully inspecting the Soldiers' Home ofMilwaukee. Astonished and entertained she pronounced it the mostpleasurable day she had spent in this country. The Grand Duke Alexis left upon its register the only autograph written inperson in a public place, bestowing upon the institution the mostextravagant encomiums, both himself and his suite of traveled and titledgentlemen pronouncing it a wonder and a marvel! The Reverend Doctor Smythe, of Dublin, Ireland, when in attendance uponthe Evangelical Alliance, visited the Soldiers' Home of Dayton, Ohio. Examining its magnificent libraries, seventy thousand dollar chapel andits hospital, the finest in the world, he was spell-bound. Going to itsmusic hall and listening to its band, inhaling the perfume of itsconservatories, visiting its grottoes, bowers and springs, rowing on itslakes, seeing its aviaries with birds of all varieties of plumage andsong, and driving in its parks inhabited by buffalo, elk, antelope andover five hundred deer; he exclaimed with evident fervor, "In the _OldCountry_, libraries, conservatories, bands and parks are for the nobility;in the new world they are for the soldiery. " And what nobler complimentcould he have paid to our country and its institutions? CHAPTER XX. "Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been; A sound that makes us linger; yet farewell. " The summer being ended, we visited the friends of Mr. Arms in Wisconsin, after which he went to Grinnell, Iowa, in pursuit of his usual avocation. My own delicate health made it necessary for me to be again winging my waysouthward. Going to Atlanta, Ga. , and making that my headquarters, Ivisited with marked success all the towns of importance on the variousrailroad routes diverging from this centre. I then made Macon anotherheadquarters, after which I canvassed the greater part of the State. The forests were filled with flowering shrubs and trailing vines, thetowering trees hung with the wild, weird drapery of the southern moss, andthe mocking birds sang their sweet songs from "early morn 'til dewy eve. "These scenes "vibrate in memory" with quivering, throbbing power, and comeback like odors exhaled from fading flowers or "music when soft voicesdie. " Selma, Alabama, became my third headquarters, where I boarded with Mrs. Cooke, a lovely woman of the purely southern type, who, before the greatconflict, was a millionaire, and was afterward forced for her own supportto convert a large mansion into a huge boarding house, which, with itshundred guests, was a cheerful, happy home; permeated as it was by thesunshine she diffused, and lighted by the fairy face of her lovelydaughter, who was named for her native State, Alabama. As in the aboriginal tongue this signifies "here we rest, " and it becameto us a name deeply fraught with significance, for in this pure untaintedheart we found "rest! sweet rest!" "En route" to Rome I met with my usual good fortune in finding anotherfriend in a lady resident of the country, who fondly urged me to leave thehotel and make my home with her, where she lavished upon me every luxuryand kindness. Her husband was the only man in that region of country whovoted for Abraham Lincoln; and when General Sherman made his "March to theSea, " she concealed none of her stores or treasures, but went to him andasked protection for her property and home, when a guard was immediatelyfurnished her by the commander. She afterward married an officer of this guard, in consequence of whichshe was disowned by her family and associates, but in the noble andsterling qualities of her husband found ample compensation as well as asubsequent reconciliation with friends. CHAPTER XXI. "'Tis a little thing To give a cup of water; yet its draught Of cool refreshment, drained by fervid lips, May give a shock of pleasure to the frame More exquisite than when nectarian juice Renews the life of joy in happiest hours. " In order to reach Montgomery I took passage in one of the high-pressuresteamers of the Alabama river, and during the two days and nights of thetrip I was surrounded by a throng of sympathizing, interested passengers, whose tender tones and gentle touch was as a cool, refreshing draught toparched lips, a sweet morsel to the tongue, for human hearts ever hungerand thirst for affection. How utterly unendurable would be this life, withits desert wastes and hot siroccos, but for the sweet, verdant spotsdotting the sandy sea, whence spring the "fountains of perpetual peace"and issue the healing waters. These loving ones surrounded me as I sat busily occupied with my beadwork, and not only delighted and entertained with their curious questionsand familiar chat, but freely bought my books and fifty dollars worth ofbaskets, while they would doubtless have doubled the amount had not thisexhausted my little store. As we steamed in sight of Montgomery a gentleman came into the cabin andrequested me to make for him eight of the handsomest bead baskets beforewe landed; and, seeing an amused and incredulous smile upon my face, hesaid: "You work so dexterously and so rapidly that I did not realize thatmy demand was unreasonable. " Explaining to him that it would require eighthours of the closest application to accomplish that amount of work, heapologized and left me. Nor did this specimen of the "genus homo" evinceany unusual ignorance of woman's work, whose endless routine anddiversified drudgery ofttimes require the patience of a Job and the wisdomof a Solomon. In the labyrinth of domestic entanglement more is neededthan the silken clue of Ariadne, and the vexed question of domesticeconomy requires the unerring skill of the diplomatist, the subtle tact ofthe politician, and the sure strength of the statesman. The "Poet ofPoets" has shown his appreciation of the character and life of woman inthe following lines: From woman's eyes this doctrine I derive; They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academies, That show, contain and nourish all the world. After a pleasant and successful visit to Montgomery we went via the MobileRailroad to Evergreen, a little town fitly named from its deeply shadedevergreen surroundings. We reached this little hamlet at two o'clock inthe morning, and those who are familiar with the cold and penetratingdampness of a southern night, even in mid-summer, could realize ourcondition and desire for rest and warmth, and know something of ourdisappointment at finding the one poor little hotel of the town without avacant room. Seeking the office for a resting place, we found the caseequally hopeless, for congregated within its narrow limits were men, women and children, every one of whom was stretched in various attitudesupon the floor, as peacefully enfolded in the arms of Morpheus, and, perchance, as sweetly dreaming as if resting upon beds of down andpillowed upon fine linen and gossamer lace. Sleep is indeed to such "tired nature's sweet restorer, " and to thosewhose healthy bodies and unambitious natures know no perturbation it isbalmy and refreshing. Turning from the unconscious, slumbering group for one friendly face, wewere greeted by Major Lanier, of the Confederate Army, whose manner andtone not only betokened the gentleman, but whose acts of kindness evincedthe true and chivalrous heart so characteristic of the southern character. After failing in repeated efforts to find us a room, he gave us hisblankets and great coat, and all through the dreary watches of the nightfed the fire with wood, which with one hand he chopped, while with theother he fought off the rabid attacks of fierce and barking dogs, whichpersistently assailed him. Had we been distinguished ladies, or had therebeen any probability of the gallant major being praised, complimented, orin any way preferred for this act of gallantry, it might have been lessappreciated, but it was an act of purely chivalrous courtesy to twostrange ladies in humble position, and his only reward was our poor thanksand the approval of his own generous heart. It must have had its comicside, too, to see a major of the regular Confederate service, who had donebattle on the field where glory was to be won, groping in the dismal darkof the night and running the risk of being severely hurt, possibly ofbeing killed, by dogs, practicing war with one hand, and dispensing anoble if not an ostentatious charity with the other. We had been promised the room opening into the office as soon as it wasvacated, and at the first streak of coming dawn the Major stationedhimself near the door, listening for the slightest sound; and when fromthe carefully guarded chamber the faintest rustle came he would jocularlyexclaim: "Ladies, prospects are brightening!" and so he helped us towhile away the weary hours until we secured the promised room and bed, where we rested until noon. When we arose from this refreshing rest we found that the session of courthad brought this throng, and we were soon surrounded with visitors, whokept us constantly conversing and almost incessantly weaving baskets fortheir amusement. These people not only bought large stores of my work, buttheir talk sent crowds of people from far and near, all of whom madepurchases of some kind. Such was the interest of every member of the barand every attendant upon court that the four days I spent there completelyexhausted me, physically and mentally. Finding there were no other important towns beyond Evergreen, I returnedto Montgomery and repaired to Savannah, Georgia, where I was treated withthe most genial generosity, and should have been repaid for a trip to thatplace in a visit to its cemetery, whose reputation has been spreadthroughout the length and breadth of our land, and whose strange, sadbeauty is so infinitely beyond the conceptions of imagination, butwhich-- "To be remembered Needs but to be seen. " Its grounds are densely grown with trees of live oak, whose huge andspreading branches, seeming to bear the size and strength of a century'sgrowth; with the dark, drooping moss, which, as it mingles its weird, fantastic drapery with the bending, swaying, weeping willow, seems like apall for the graves hidden in its sombre shades; while the millions ofbirds which dwell therein lull their warbling notes to the measure of alow funeral song; and every sound of Nature's many-voiced music seems tomurmur a requiem for the dead. As I sat subdued and listening, the low, rustling sound of the wind seemed as a sigh of sorrow escaping the breastof the bereaved, and I could picture in the far away land of Palestinethat sacred spot which had so often been described to me, even the "Churchof the Holy Sepulchre. " This most benevolent city of Georgia, without solicitation, presented mepasses to Jacksonville and Tallahassee, Fla. The former was at that timequite an unimportant place, but has since become a popular resort. While in Tallahassee I met with great sympathy and kindness from GovernorRood, who bought a book and handed me five dollars. When change wastendered to him he quietly and respectfully declined, and said with hisusual delicacy that it was worth that much to him. The Sheriff of the county was also very generous. Wishing to present mewith ten dollars, and fearing to wound me by so doing, he ordered thatamount of bead-work. Tallahassee was certainly the most quiet Capital City I had ever visited, resting in its placid loveliness apparently undisturbed by the usualwrangle of legislation. We returned via Live Oaks, at which place we encountered one of thosesevere thunderstorms known only to tropical lands, and in which the angry"war of elements" strikes terror to the hearts of those unschooled to it. All through its thundering and lightning, its wind and torrent, I was insuch a state of nervous excitement, that when the last lurid light faded, the last crash was echoed by a low reverberating moan and died away, Igave one deep sigh of intense relief and sank exhausted from the reaction. CHAPTER XXII. "I lay upon the headland heights, and listened To the incessant moaning of the sea In caverns under me, And watched the waves that tossed, And fled, and glistened; Until the rolling meadows of amethyst Melted away in mist. " My visit to Charleston combined little of eventful note, and this city isto well known as a seaport to require a detailed description. There, as inall places in close proximity to the ocean, I was spell-bound amid theceaseless ebb and flow, the endless melody of the waves glowing andscintillating with myriad gem-like hues from the amethyst, the emerald andthe diamond, to the many-hued opal, its varied and changing beauty bearingall the brilliant glory of the fabled dolphin, born in its depths. In this sea-girt city I found the home of Mrs. Glover, and above all herhallowed presence there. She is an accomplished lady, and once wrote anattractive novel, more for pastime than from any literary aspirations. Vernon, the hero of her story of Vernon Grove, was blind, and as thisdepiction of character was so much more true to nature than thepen-pictures of other gifted delineators, even that of the shrewd searcherof the human heart, Wilkie Collins, that she had won the sympathy andinterest of all at the Baltimore Institution, at which, in former years, she had been so cheerfully greeted. Vernon possessed none of the melancholy, inanimate, suspiciouscharacteristics supposed by many to belong of necessity to the blind, butwas a brilliant, cheerful, high-minded person, who filled every positionin life with dignity, accepted every sorrow and disappointment withresignation, in every struggle was a lion-hearted hero, and in everycontest a conqueror. This gifted lady was a sister of Mrs. Bowen, of Baltimore, who, as well asher husband, was a warm, true friend to the blind, and ever joyouslyhailed as a guest in the institution. After traveling through the Carolinas I went to Richmond, Virginia, theRome of America, and like that ancient city built upon seven hills, whilein its patrician pride and family loyalty it possessed much of the essenceof the old Roman spirit. My visit there was during the most fervid heat of the summer solstice, when through the sultry days all living creatures are panting andbreathless, yet withal the stay of three weeks' duration passed away withdelightful rapidity, and time stole upon us and stole from us almostimperceptibly. Leaving Richmond for White Sulphur Springs, I stopped at all importantintervening points. At Staunton I devoted an entire day to the inspectionof the Institution for the Blind, and in pleasant acceptance ofhospitalities dispensed both by inmates and officials. Arriving at White Sulphur after dark, we found the mountain air so coldthat we could almost imagine ourselves suddenly transported from theEquator to the Pole, and were as thoroughly chilled as one unacclimatedwould be from so great and sudden a transition. The mammoth hotel of this watering place, comfortably seated in itsdining-hall twelve hundred guests, and all its appointments were inequally grand proportion. We occupied, from choice, one of the cozy littlecottages, nestling like a dove-cot in some bowery shade, with its patch ofgreen-sward and flower-garden in front and purling brook behind, holdingthe double charm of rural simplicity and home-like air. Hattie led methrough every path and grove, nook and glen of this sweet seclusion, thisvalley embosomed in mountains, and my thoughts reverted to the days whenthe belles and beaux of our American court sought these sylvan shades;when Washington and the successive Chief Magistrates of the Great Republichad gracefully glided through the stately minuet and invested this spotwith a now classic interest. Prominent among the visitors was the leonine General Lee, a Colossus inperson and in mind. In spirit brave as a true hero, but in manner gentleas a woman. In the sweet solace of sympathy his heart went out to theblind girl, and assumed the tangible form of solid favors, for by hispersonal efforts under the magic influence and royal mandate of hisimperial power many a little volume was appropriated that would have beenotherwise unnoticed. George Peabody was also a guest, but in this, his last visit to his nativecountry, he was too ill and prostrate to receive friends. I felt for him astrong personal sympathy for his beneficence to my native city, to whichhe ever acknowledged himself indebted for his first business success; andin which the pure, white marble structure, with its magnificent libraryand other appointments, so well known as "The Peabody Institute, " standsas a monument of his munificence. Returning to Richmond, we took the James River route to Baltimore, a tripfraught with varied interest. At Yorktown, that city of eld, we landed to take in a cargo of freight, not neglecting the usual store of oysters, of which we had at supper asumptuous feast and it was from no fickle epicurean fancy that allpronounced these delicious bivalves the finest in the world, for, certainly, never before or since have we partaken of them with such rarerelish and absolute gusto. CHAPTER XXIII. "Sweet is the hour that brings us home, Where all will spring to meet us; Where hands are striving as we come, To be the first to greet us. When the world has spent its frowns and wrath, And care been sorely pressing; 'Tis sweet to turn from our roving path, And find a fireside blessing; Ah, joyfully dear is the homeward track, If we are but sure of a welcome back!" Home again in dear old Baltimore, where over my cradle was sung mymother's first lullaby, and where so many localities were invested withthe charm of loved association. I of course visited the Institution forthe Blind, which would not, in its many changes, have seemed at all likehome but for the music of a familiar voice and the presence of dear MissBond, who still with loving dignity presided as matron, throned in themajesty of noble humanity, and crowned with purity and goodness. Dr. Fisher, Mr. Trust and Mr. Newcomer still faithfully held theirpositions as Directors, and cordially welcomed me home. Mr. Morrison, thenew Superintendent, and his most estimable wife, although they had neverseen me, brought me near to them by the bond of sympathetic kindness, andseemed not like strangers but friends. It seemed singular to those who had known little Mary Day to have her goback to them a married woman, and indeed, for the moment, time seemed tohave gone backward in its flight; the dignity of the matron was forgotten, and I was a child again, even little Mary Day. I felt glad of an assurancefrom Miss Bond, that so fondly had my name been cherished, even by thosein the institution who had never met me, that it was regarded as a"household word, " and that enshrined in the most sacred niche of thetemple of love was the image of Mary L. Day. As a testimony of thiscontinued affection I was fondly urged to remain in the institution whilein the city, but, as I had so many resident relatives, I declined. My cousin, William Heald, who had by his kindness infused light into someof my darkest hours, had won a lovely woman for a wife, and certainly noone more richly deserved such a consummation. Cousin Sammy Heald had alsomarried his fair fiance, of the West, who in her sweet purity ofcharacter, beauty of person and a life fragrant and blossoming with gooddeeds, could justly be called a "prairie flower. " He had been ordained aMethodist minister, and was winning true laurels in his little charge inIowa, to which conference he belonged. He had chosen his proper vocation, for as a preacher he was "Native, and to the manor born, " for when a weeboy, he had written and declaimed many a sermon, and had his mimicaudience been a real one these efforts would have produced electricaleffect. Among the many changes in my Baltimore circle was the vacant chair at thefireside, once filled by my uncle Jacob Day, whose memory and whose lifewas pervaded by the odor of true sanctity. It could truly be said of himat the sunset of a beautiful life, that "Each silver hair, each wrinkle there, Records some good deed done; Some flower cast along the way, Some spark from love's bright sun. " He had been a great leader in the Sabbath School movement, and a prominentfeature of the funeral cortege was a procession of his pupils in purewhite raiment, who, in token of their love and bereavement, strewed hisgrave with flowers. I cannot close my home chapter without an expression of exultant pride formy classmates who have done so nobly in their various vocations. Two hadentered the literary ranks as book-writers, and had met with markedsuccess in the acceptance and sale of their works; three stood high asteachers; one earned a good living by tuning pianos; several were engagedin various departments of the institution; and two ranked high asmusicians, which profession has seemed an especial field for the blind. To use the musical measure of poetic prose as rendered by Mr. Artman, oneof the most renowned blind authors--"There is a world to which nightbrings no gloom, no sadness, no impediments; fills no yawning chasm andhides from the traveler no pitfall. It is the world of sound. Silence isits night, the only darkness of which the blind have any knowledge. In itevery attribute of Nature has a voice; the beautiful, the grand, thesublime, have each a language, and to me, whose heart is in tune, everysound has a peculiar significance. Sounds fill the soul, while light fillsthe eye only. 'In the varied strains of warbling melody, ' as it winds inits graceful meanderings to the deep recesses of his soul, or of the richand boundless harmony, as it swells and rolls its pompous tide around him, he finds a solace and a compensation for the absent joys of sight. " And so I close with a blessing upon the members of my class, and may theGod of light and love illumine their paths, and glorify their lives, is myearnest, heartfelt prayer. CHAPTER XXIV. "The prayer of Ajax was for light; Through all that dark and desperate fight, The blackness of that noonday night, He asked but the return of sight, To see his foeman's face. "Let our unceasing, earnest prayer Be, too, for light--for strength to bear Our portion of the weight of care, That crushes into dumb despair One half the human race. " From Baltimore I went to Westminster, Maryland, to visit my cousin, Charles Henniman, and my stay there was characterized by all the joy ofsweet reunion and eager acceptance of hospitalities so lavishly bestowed. It was with mingled emotions of pleasure and pain I greeted my old friend, Carrie Fringer. In person she was of a peculiar type of beauty, a faceregular in features as a Madonna, beaming with the soft, love-light ofrare, sweet eyes, in whose depths were imprisoned not only an intensebrightness, but the still deeper glow of a soul of love and truth. Curlsof soft brown hair fell upon her symmetrical shoulders and softened theface they framed into an almost spiritual sweetness. From an affliction inher childhood she had almost ever since been unable to walk, and indeednone of the beautiful limbs were available for voluntary motion. Thusdeprived of more than half of life's joy, its sweet activity, many wouldhave lapsed into a morbid, nervous condition, over which we might justlyhave thrown the mantle of charity, but this dear friend was so lovely andchastened in her affliction, that she seemed almost a Deity in herattributes of tender love and patient self-abnegation, united to a heroicendurance of pain with which she was daily, hourly and momently tortured. Surely "The good are better made by ill, As odors crushed are sweeter still. " Going to Washington I accompanied an excursion down the Potomac to MountVernon, that sacred spot whose mention sends a thrill of patriotic pridethrough every American heart, hallowed as it is by memories of GeorgeWashington. So I became one of the zealous pilgrim throng who wended theirway to this our Mecca, dear to us as that sacred place in the old world tothe most devout worshiper of the Prophet Mahomet. Reaching our destination we first repaired to the tomb, and with bowed anduncovered heads all reverently gazed upon the mausoleum of departedgreatness, and turned to the mansion, each department of which had its ownpeculiar charm. Prominent among other relics were his war-equipments, the paraphernalia ofRevolutionary times; and as we ever associate him with his character asgeneral, these were especially significant from the sword so often wieldedwith masterly power, to the little canteen, from which, after long andweary marches, he refreshed his parched lips. In his bed-chamber, with its antique air and quaint garniture, there stooda bedstead, the fac-simile of the one upon which he died. Here we lingeredlong and lovingly, and turned to another department, in one corner ofwhich stood a harpsichord, once belonging to his niece, Miss Lewis. Infancy I could see her fairy fingers as they swept in "waves of grace" overits strings, and with the "concord of sweet sounds" ministered to a circleof distinguished listeners. I could not resist the impulse to pass myhands over the long neglected strings, and recalled the sentiment of theold song, "As a sweet lute that lingers In silence alone; Unswept by light fingers. Scarce murmurs a tone; My own heart resembles, This lute, light and free, 'Til o'er its chord trembles Sweet memories of thee. " The garden still remained as arranged by his taste and dictation, and atone corner of the house the magnolia tree, planted by his own hand, stillbloomed in fragrant beauty. In the yard was the old well, with "its moss-covered, iron-bound bucket, "and at the door the gray-haired negro, the inevitable servant of "MassaWashington, " who will doubtless, like a wandering Jew, out live all time, and for centuries to come remain an attaché of our country's father. Several gentlemen present evinced and expressed great surprise that ablind woman should go to _see_ Mount Vernon, yet I very much doubt if anyeyes really saw more than my own. When we reached the boat, each gentlemancarried in his hand a cane cut from the woods of Mount Vernon, and one andall returned to Washington with the consciousness of having spent apleasant and profitable day. We soon left for Lynchburg, Virginia, after which we visited the towns enroute to Knoxville, Tennessee. At the latter place we had a very enjoyablevisit to the home of Parson Brownlow. He was absent in attendance upon theLegislature, but his daughter gracefully and cordially dispensed thehospitalities of their home, and did everything within the bounds of herwarm, sympathetic intelligence to heighten the pleasure and interest ofour visit. Back again to Chicago, we were welcomed by Mr. Arms, whom we foundengaged in erecting machinery in the Gowan Marble Works, the largest ofthe kind in the North-west. Resting in the sweet haven of home, we passedthe winter in this sanctum. CHAPTER XXV. "I love not man the less, but nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. " Renewed and refreshed from our long winter rest, with the migration of thebirds we winged our way westward, alighting in many a lovely locality inthe flourishing State of Iowa, whose soft undulations of prairies were nowswelling in billows of gorgeous green, and touched with the varied tintsof flowery bloom. Our last resting place was in Council Bluffs, so celebrated for thegrandeur of its location at the foot of the beetling bluffs of theMissouri River, and for its flourishing and progressive spirit, aside fromwhich it holds a place in our historic annals dating back to aboriginaldays. When this century was in its early infancy, and the shadowy dawn ofour young nation was still wrapt in the mists which enshrouded its firststruggling efforts; when the little far-away fur station of Astoria, nearthe whispering waves of the Pacific coast, held not the mellowing memoriesof time or the living light with which the genius of an Irving has sinceinvested it; when the great explorers, Lewis and Clarke, were leavingtheir foot-prints on the land bordering the Columbia River, they held acouncil with the Red Man at Kanesville, Iowa, ever since known as "CouncilBluffs. " Thence we went to Omaha, which is one of the most flourishing places inNebraska, and from the improvised post-office of early days, the "plug"hat of Mr. Jones, its first post-master, has grown the large distributingoffice of the department. It was also a military post and winter garrison for our troops intransitu, its cheerful barracks, well-kept roads and clean parade groundconverting it into a favorite drive and walk, where resort many strangersto witness the dress parade of "The Boys in Blue. " The Platte River Valley is well known to most of my readers from itsromantic association with the struggles of the vast army of emigrants, whonot only braved the dangers of its uncertain fords and deceitfulquicksands, but the tomahawk and scalp knife, ofttimes leaving a namelessgrave beside its waters; and, were it not for a laughable incident in thisconnection, I would pass it by unnoticed. There are so many heroes of the Don Quixote school, who are so brave infighting wind-mills, who, in time of peace, are "soldiers armed withresolution, " but in the real conflict what Shakspeare designates as"soldiers and afeard. " There was in our train a young prig, who "playedthe braggart with his tongue, " telling of his brave exploits, like a veryOthello recounting the "dangers he passed, " ending with a defiant show ofhow he should act in the event of an attack from marauding Indians, towhich the trains were at that time so subject, after which he fell into aprofound slumber, resting upon his imaginary laurels. While he slept thetrain had changed conductors, and it became necessary to see his ticket. This new official passing by, and finding himself unable to arouse thesnoring sleeper by ordinary means, gave him a lusty shake, whereupon ourhero gave a hideous yell of "Indians! Indians!" his lips quivering and hisframe palsied with fear. The sound was so startling that the affrightedpassengers imagined themselves for the moment in the merciless grasp of aband of Red Men. The conductor gave this quaking coward another energetic shake and animperious demand for "your ticket, sir!" and the quondam man of war"smoothed his wrinkled front, " and humbly subsided into a semblance ofsleep, while the conductor was no doubt astonished at the loud laughterthat followed a brief silence, during which the passengers recovered theircomposure, and realized the full ludicrousness of the incident. In myexperience in life I have met a great many people who were ready to tellwhat they would have done "had they been there;" but this priggish gasconwas the first I had ever seen put to the test, and I believe him to be afair sample of that smart class who could, if you take their words for it, have done better on any given occasion than those whom the occasion found"there. " Emerging from the Platte Valley, we realized the fact that we were fairlyon our way to the far West, ready to take in with insatiable avidity allthe immensity and grandeur of our territorial scenery. Arriving at Cheyenne, we were surprised to find a comfortablehotel-omnibus in waiting, and most of the concomitants of a metropolis, notwithstanding the oft-expressed surprise and fear of friends at thedaring venture of two unprotected women in going alone to this lawless andGod-forsaken country. Alas for the demoralizing influence of so-called civilization! While inthe elegant counting-rooms of polished millionaires in more easternlocalities we had occasionally met with insults and snubs; in this placeof reputed "roughs" we received not one rebuff, and were greeted notmerely with respect, but with unbounded generosity. While we found roughdiamonds, they were diamonds nevertheless. Over this city has since swept the tidal wave of reform, and a greattemperance awakening evoked by one of the great workers in that movement, Mr. Page, who, with gentle yet royal mandate, has said to the many"troubled waters, " with their sad wrecks of human souls--"peace! bestill!" We find it vain to depict by our feeble word-painting the many-hued, many-voiced phases nature assumes in this almost boundless domain, and theyet untold, undeveloped depths of our territorial resources. Mountainslooming up in imperial grandeur, their snow-crowned summits melting intocloud and sky; weird cañons, in which the whispered words of worship froma myriad devotees seem to echo and re-echo through their dark depths;giant trees: "The murmuring pines and hemlock, Bearded with moss and in garments of green, Indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of Eld, With voices sad and prophetic. " Among the many military posts Fort Bridger, named for the famous trapperand guide of oft-written and oft-told fame, is also renowned as one of theposts of our gallant frontier officer, Albert Sydney Johnston, who won hisfirst laurels amid the first Mormon troubles, and gallantly fell at Shilohearly in the Civil War. Many of the most romantic places have been named for some fair maiden ofthe pioneer families, as Maggie's Creek, Susan's Valley, etc. , while oneof the most noted and poetic spots is known as "The Maiden's Grave, " theonce rude resting place of a gentle girl, whose remains were left there byher mourning friends on their way to their home on the Pacific Slope. Itwas afterwards found by a party of graders on the railway, and these roughbut sympathetic men erected a fitting mausoleum of solid masonry, surmounted by a pure white cross of stone, whose symmetrical proportionsare prominently visible to every traveler upon the Union Pacific Railroad. One of the most interesting objects to me was the "Thousand Mile Tree, "whose towering height I could imagine and long to behold as described tome by my companion and friend, its strange isolation sending a peculiarthrill of loneliness through the heart of one who was fifteen hundredmiles from home. This old tree, through some strange freak of nature, stood a solitary sentinel, a guide-post of nature to tell the traveler hewas a thousand miles from Omaha. As we neared Weber River our well known and popular conductor came intothe cars, and in a voice of deep, rich melody, sang the words of the thenfavorite song: "Yes, we will gather at the river. The beautiful, the beautiful river; Gather with the Saints at the river, That flows by the throne of God. " The passengers, as we neared the kingdom of the Saints, catching themagnetism of his song, joined in the sweet refrain until it swelled into asoaring, reverberating harmony. We reached Ogden City just as the sun was setting in royal hues, andrepaired at once to the White House, the only gentile hotel in the place. CHAPTER XXVI. "Westward the star of Empire takes its way; The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day; Time's noblest offspring-is the last. " Our first emotion upon our introduction to Utah was one of fear andforeboding, for our landlord seemed so assured that we should meet with nosuccess, selfishness being the established character of the Mormons, whonever allowed their hearts to go out in sympathy to any one outside oftheir own church or community. Far away from home, "a stranger in a strange land, " felt like thoseold-time wanderers who sat them down by the "waters of Babylon, " andhanging their harps upon the willow, sang sad songs and wept bitter tears. I gathered sufficient courage to call upon the editor of the daily paper, and his gentlemanly reception was very reassuring. He gave me a lengthyand commendatory notice, and this emanating from a man with five wivesgave me a more charitable sentiment than I had formerly maintained towardMormon institutions, and it likewise gave me courage and a better opinionas to my prospects. We remained there two days, and met with suchunexpected success that we turned in a more hopeful mood toward Salt LakeCity. On the road to that city is a celebrated sulphur spring, whose presence isindicated for miles before it is reached by somewhat infernal fumes. Awoman in the car, overcome by the unpleasant odor, exclaimed, in evidentdisgust: "Is that the way the Mormons smell?" She seemed so impressed withthe nearness of his Satanic Majesty, whom she intimately associated withMormondom, that it recalled the somewhat vulgar story of the "Teuton, "who, in nearing the Virginia White Sulphur Springs, with the same fumes inhis nostrils, cried out: "Mein Gott! pe shure, hell is not more as a mileoff!" Arriving at Salt Lake City at the close of a beautiful day, the westernsky gleaming with the royally gorgeous hues of a clear, bright sunset, while the delightful surroundings and stimulating atmosphere lured us towalk from the depot. Salt Lake being at that time a city of twenty thousand souls, and thisbeing prior to the opening of the mines, it was probably in the hey-day ofits beauty, and could boast of but one saloon, whereas they are now verynumerous. Its broad, regular avenues were shaded with trees of suchimmense growth as are known only in our western lands, the coolness andshade of whose leafy, spreading branches invitingly appeal to thepasser-by. Streams of limpid, crystal water, born in the pure mountainsnows, gurgle down each street, and, in their beautiful borders ofnature's green enamel, impart an almost marvelous beauty to the city. The twenty-third of July being the twenty-third anniversary of thefounding of the "City of the Saints, " I had the pleasure of going to theirTemple and listening to the earnest oratory of their representative men, and among them the "Prophet" himself. George Francis Train being also avisitor in the city, gave a characteristic oration, in which he rehearsedthe pilgrimage of this people, their persecution, privations and painsbefore reaching their haven, which seems, in its rare beauty, an almostmagical city, rising up in the wilderness as a lovely refuge, for, afterall, what magic is so potent as industry and perseverance, and how much ofboth of these elements must have been brought to bear in theaccomplishment of so much in the short space of twenty-three years. The Honorable George Cocannon, the able editor of their daily paper, representative in Congress, and one of their distinguished elders, gave mea telling editorial, which, from its influential source, benefited me verygreatly, and could not fail to facilitate my sales. We called at the residence of Brigham Young, and he kindly gave us a halfhour of his valuable time, a favor much appreciated, and one which threwgreat additional light upon their institutions. We visited their public schools, found the system of graded departments, high schools, etc. , very similar to our own, and all in an equallyflourishing condition. My companion was peculiarly attracted by theuncommon beauty of the pupils, never having seen in an equal number ofchildren so much personal fascination. I also visited the public market, where a man in one of the stalls bought a book, remarking at the same timethat he supposed he ought to buy four, as he had that number of wives. Abystander asked if this did not sound very strangely in the ears of one sounaccustomed to a plurality of wives. I quickly responded that the men ofUtah must have large hearts to be capable of taking in four wives, or evenmore, when our men had scarce courage to marry one. My reply evidentlytouched some responsive chord, for all at once bought books. Their systemof co-operative trade ofttimes leaves them destitute of ready cash, butall who had money gave me the most liberal patronage. There is a peculiar feature of Salt Lake society which is truly worthy ofnote, and that is the fact that even in social gatherings they open andclose with prayer. Thus, with the highest respect and gratitude for its citizens, I leftSalt Lake and returned to Ogden, where I hoped for a new supply of books. Finding neither letters nor books, and board being four dollars per day, Ibegan to feel symptoms of the "blues. " Going to the landlord and statingthe case, he bade me have no fear, for no more would be demanded of methan I was able to pay; and cheered by this unexpected kindness, Iresolved to patiently wait the issue of events. The next day beingelection, it was strange to witness the procession of women voters wendingtheir way to the polls; but here, as in Salt Lake, the utmost order andquiet prevailed, nor was bolt or bar necessary for protection at night, when we were permitted to rest in sweet security from harm. On going to the express office we were approached by a gentleman, who, pointing to me, handed Hattie an envelope with the simple words, "If youplease;" few indeed, but fraught with mystery to us, our only solutionbeing that the envelope contained election tickets, and we were supposedvoters. With a sense of relief we found the books at the express office, and wetook that opportunity to open the mysterious package, in which we foundfive dollars. Describing the gentleman to the express agent, he said hewas a clerk in an eating house near by, a bachelor, and very liberal. Certainly this act spoke nobly for the fraternity of bachelors, who aresupposed to go about armed with a coat of mail, especially invulnerable inthe region of the heart, while this unsolicited kindness unquestionablyindicated a large degree of tenderness of nature. We sent him a note of acknowledgment, which we felt to be but a feebleexpression of our gratitude, and, as "all seemed to work together for ourgood, " we left Utah with a benediction in our hearts and a silent but noless earnest prayer on our lips, and turned toward the setting sun. CHAPTER XXVII. "The quality of mercy is not strained; It droppeth as the gentle rain from Heaven Upon the place beneath; it is twice blessed, It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest, it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown. " Leaving Ogden we followed the line of the Central Pacific Railroad, makingno stops until we reached Elko, Nevada. It was the county seat of Elkocounty, and, although at that time a place of comparatively small size andpopulation, it had an air of business activity known only to localitiesalive with the excitement of railroad traffic. The mammoth depot andfreight-house gave it an air of importance; the pine trade, then soactive, and the busy stage-line to the neighboring, warm, mineral springsand mines of purest silver, imparted to it an additional businessactivity. We were delightfully entertained by Mr. Treet, the gentlemanly proprietorof the Railroad House, and were presented by him with a letter ofintroduction to Mrs. Van Every, of Sacramento. Thus did so many kind handssmooth down the inequalities incident to a life of travel, and pleasantlypave the way to so many warm friendships. On arriving at Sacramento on August 5th, a day of intense, almost stiflingheat, we went at once to Mrs. Van Every, who kept the most elegantboarding house in the city, whose spacious apartments seemed filled withthe breath of Paradise, which added a grateful welcome to our travel-tiredbodies. Mrs. Van Every's mien of pure and native dignity, her voice ofsilvery sweetness, gave the charm of a welcome and ease to her greeting;and without delay we presented our letter, which was the "open sesame" toher heart. We were at once assigned to a nice, clean and even luxurious apartment, and after some real rest and quiet we sauntered out, as usual seeking themost prominent editors, and found two, both of whom did us full justice inthe way of editorial notices of our presence and mission. One day, almost at the close of a two weeks' canvassing tour, we enteredthe office of the Honorable N. Green Curtis, who, at the first glance, declined to give us his patronage, but after a short conversation, inwhich he learned that I was a native of Baltimore, "A moment o'er his face The tablet of unutterable thought was traced, And then, it faded as it came, " he instantly arose, and, as if impelled by some new and life-givingimpulse, he took from my hand a book, and left in its stead a five dollarbill, saying in hurried words, I never refused to assist a Southerner. Thus the memories of our native land are balmy with recollections ofchildhood, and cling to us through a lifetime of sorrow and change. Thehumblest Scottish shepherd boy can never forget that "'Twas yonder on the Grampian hills His father fed his flock. " Judge Curtis afterward revealed the fact that he was a native of SouthCarolina, and the mere mention of the sunny land of his boyhood gave toeach latent sympathy new life and power. It was also probable that he wasnot at first aware of my affliction, for he added the remark that he couldnot refuse a favor to a blind person. When we were leaving his office hearose and inquired if I needed aid in any other way; stated that he was awidower and without other ties, hence had no claims upon his purse, andhoped I would feel as free to ask as he was to give. I replied that I was doing too well in my legitimate business to requiredirect pecuniary aid, and unless he could assist me in securing railroadpasses I had no requests to make. How kindly he did this was manifest from the fact that I afterwardreceived from Ex-Governor Stanford, who was President of the CentralPacific Road, a yearly pass, and with this introduction the favor wasreadily extended by all the railroads on the coast. A few evenings before I left Sacramento Mrs. Van Every, from her everoverflowing goodness, improvised an entertainment for my pleasure andbenefit. It became necessary to initiate Hattie into the secret, but Iremained in blissful ignorance until one evening I received a not unusualsummons to go down to the drawing rooms, when I found myself the centre ofa charmed circle of the elite of Sacramento, the easy flow of whoseconversation was laden with love and sympathy for me, and then wasrevealed the fact that each invited guest had received a card, upon whichMrs. Van Every had traced the words "for the benefit of the blind lady. " "Music with its golden tongue was there, " and the halls resounded withmelody, which, with love's sacred inspiration, is sweet as Apollo's lute. Among the gathered guests was Mr. Charles Cummings and lady, Mr. Cummingsbeing one of the officers of the Central Pacific Railroad, of whom I shallspeak hereafter. A most sumptuous supper was served, each choice viandbeing the result of Mrs. Van Every's culinary lore, which the mostepicurean taste could not but relish. The light-winged hours brought all unconsciously the time for parting, and the beauty and chivalry of Sacramento, left laden with books andbaskets which had been spirited from my own room and tastefully disposedin the parlors; and each good night was blended with a kind wish andgentle benediction. Mrs. Van Every, and her sister, Mrs. Fulger, who lived with her, wereladies of the noblest representative type of the Society of Friends, ofwhich my life already held such blessed memories. In general society, withdeferential etiquette, they adopted the usual form of speech, but in theprivacy of the home circle they used the "plain language" of their ownorganization, hence it became to me doubly musical in its sacredcharacter. Before starting again upon our travels, we made Sacramento our home, towhich we could turn for rest in our wanderings. CHAPTER XXVIII. "And this our life--exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything. " We next visited San Jose, one of the most romantically, beautiful towns inCalifornia, which would require the subtle gift of genius, a touch ofpoetic fire, and, above all, the fullness and richness of descriptivepower, to enable me to give any adequate conception of its charms. It wasalmost a fairy realm, with its fields of waving grain, then golden withthe glow of the harvest season; trees laden with fruitage, and vineyardsdrooping with their ripe, purple clusters. One of the prominent attractions of the place was the residence of GeneralNegley, nestling in the centre of extended grounds, combining the richly, blending beauties of nature and art. Groves and streams, rustic bridgesand flowing fountains, shrubby labyrinths and flowery dells, were groupedin happiest harmony. Received by the General with the genial hospitalitywhich should characterize the presiding spirit of such an Eden, dispensingitself in so many pleasant ways, we were led from house to garden, andfrom vineyard to wine press, where all were temptingly lured to taste thefreshly pressed grape juice. It was a novel sight to those accustomed only to white or negro labor, tosee the efficient corps of Chinese employees who had proven themselvessuch valuable servants. It is with some degree of trepidation that Ifollow a desire which impels me to describe a bunch of grapes I saw inthis vineyard. I must beg my readers to free me from any taint of thespirit of the renowned Baron Munchausen, whose intensely magnifying visionthrew its impress upon all objects, but, without the faintest degree ofexaggeration, I can say, that while I am no Lilliputian in size, I stood, holding with great difficulty, the weight of a single bunch of grapes inmy extended hand, while the other end of it rested upon the ground, norwould I dare to tell this grape story unless many of my readers werefamiliar with the mammoth fruits of California. After this delightful visit we took the horse car to Santa Clara, andcertainly the world cannot boast of a public route so redolent with beautyas this. Both sides of the road are shaded with trees of almost acentury's growth; for this "Alameda" was planted by the Jesuit Fathers in1799. These left the vines and olives of their native Spain, and plantedupon the soil of their new home this grove, which was, doubtless, intendedas a sacred haunt, never dreaming that its sanctity would be invaded bythe sacrilegious sounds of modern civilization, and, above all, by therumble of the horse car. All along this beauteous line of shade, musical with the melody of birds, are elegant villas, evidently the abodes of wealth and fashion. Back again to Sacramento, we met Mr. Charles Cummings, who gave us ageneral pass over the various stage routes of that portion of the State, and we at once went to Stockton by rail, where we took the stage for thecelebrated Calevaros trees. So stupendous appeared every tree upon theroute, that a score of times we fancied ourselves nearing the world famedgiants, but how did these monsters dwindle into comparative insignificancewhen we found the real grove. After this tedious, tiresome stage ride, it was indeed a luxury to findourselves safely ensconced in the large, elegant hotel in the midst of theCalevaros, the season being quite advanced, and in consequence the hotelless crowded. This being one of the few places in the State in which wefound cool water, we luxuriated in draught after draught of this crystal, ice-cold beverage, and no fabled fountain of rejuvenating power could havebeen more exhilarating. Next morning, in eager anxiety, we took an early look at the great trees, all of which are named for some person of distinction. We stood firstbeside General Grant, and, as Hattie laid her hand upon the side of thehero, she bade me start around him and see what a distance it would be tofind her again. When I was upon the opposite side I felt quite isolatedand lonely, and when I regained her companionship it seemed to have beenafter a long separation. We next took a reverent look at the "Mother ofthe Forest, " which is eighty-seven feet in circumference and four hundredfeet in height, and we must confess that these proportions made her lookquite like an Amazon. The "Father of the Forest" was quite prostrate, hishuge bulk, as he lay upon the ground, seeming that of a fallen hero. Thusin the vegetable as in the animal world, the female has the greater powerof endurance. Man, in spite of his conceded superiority of physicalstrength and supposed mental supremacy, bows before the tornado of life, while woman ofttimes stands erect and fearless amid the storms and windsof years. The heart of the Father had been bored out, and the hollow converted intoa drive, admitting a horse and rider for eighty-seven feet, and allowingthem room to turn and go back. I had the pleasure of taking this novelride, allowing my horse to be led. Many of my readers have seen, and most of them have heard of the noveldancing-hall in the heart of one of these denizens of the forest, whichadmits four quadrilles upon its floors, and can imagine the romance of"tripping the light fantastic toe" amid such surroundings. Another treehad been sawed into tablets, upon which each visitor left a name orrecord. The day previous to our visit, a little boy of eight years old hadvisited the grove. When his bright eyes rested for a time upon the tablet, his little fingers grasped a piece of chalk, and he readily wrote: "AndGod said, let there be a Big Tree, and there was a Big Tree. " We looked admiringly upon the "Twin Trees" named for Ingomar andParthenia, and perhaps like these lovers of old, embodied "two hearts thatbeat as one. " During our three days visit we left no tree unexamined, eachone being fraught with individuality, and each in living languageaddressing our hearts in its own characteristic sentiment. These veterans varied in age from twelve hundred to twenty-five thousandyears, and for their accumulated cycles commanded veneration. After fully satisfying our love of sight seeing, and taking time to fullycontemplate the beauty and sublimity of the wonders, we returned by way ofSonora and Columbia to our temporary home in Sacramento, not onlysatisfied but highly gratified by our tour. CHAPTER XXIX. "Dared I but say a prophecy, As sang the holy men of old, Of rock-built cities yet to be Along these shining shores of gold, Crowding athirst into the sea; What wondrous marvels might be told! Enough to know that empire here Shall burn her loftiest, brightest star; Here art and eloquence shall reign As o'er the wolf-reared realm of old; Here learned and famous from afar, To pay their noble court, shall come, And shall not seek or see in vain, But look on all with wonder dumb. " Once more away from Sacramento we visited Marysville, which is a beautifulbrick town, laid out with great regularity and width of street, each housenestling in flower-garden and shade, and is a place of extensivemanufactures and trade. We went from there to Colusa, where I reaped arich harvest of gain. Indeed I never found a people more lavish in theexpenditure of money, seeming to value it only for the good it dispensed. Leaving Colusa, elated with the success we had met, we journeyed toMarysville in a very happy state of mind that was doomed to undergo asevere reverse on our arrival. When we started there were three hundreddollars in "hard money" in my trunk, and when we arrived in Marysville myheart sank within me and I could feel the blood leave the surface and myface grow deadly cold when I learned that my trunk, which we had seenstowed in the "boot" of the stage on starting, was not there on ourarrival. After a few moments, in which I considered what should be done, Iwent to the stage agent, who telegraphed back to Colusa, and, after anhour of deep and painful suspense, the answer came back that the trunk wassafe. By some singular omission the straps of the boot had not all beenbuckled and my trunk had fallen out. It was picked up by some honestfarmer, who, believing that it belonged to a passenger in the stage, hadsent it to the office. The next morning it came to me, and I was amplycompensated for the delay in the kindness of the agent, who not onlyexpressed great regret for the mishap, but voluntarily defrayed all extraexpense incurred. We next visited Chico, at that time the terminus of the Central PacificRailway, where I hoped to meet Elder Hobart, the friend I had so loved inmy childhood. After some search I found his daughter, from whom I waspained to learn that he had closed his earthly pilgrimage but a short timebefore. My pain was not for him who rested from such faithful labors, butfor those bereft. The daughter, although married, forgot not the friend ofearly days; and I accepted with alacrity her invitation to visit herhouse, where we had a season fraught with pleasant reminiscence. We took the stage here for Red Bluff, the rain pouring in torrents and thenight dark as Erebus, it being the beginning of the regular rainy seasonof this country. During the night we reached the Sacramento River, whichwe could almost have imagined to be the Styx, with the sombre Charon for aferry-man, for we soon learned that we were obliged to cross upon a flatboat. The wind was blowing in so fierce a gale that the boatmen could notnear the shore, and called upon the passengers for assistance. All thegentlemen responded but one passenger, who, although a man, was notgentle, settled himself upon the back seat and declared he would not payhis passage and work it too. All attempts of the ladies to shame him intoactivity were useless. He could not be induced to leave his snuggery, andeven as we talked he was lustily snoring. So do some selfish naturessmoothly slip through the emergencies of life, leaving to others theresponsibilities and exertion; and this man I was afterwards told was aprofessional humorist, actually a humorous writer for the press, and Imust accept this as one of his jokes. After three weary hours we drifted to the shore, and next day went to RedBluff, a wild, uncanny place, but abounding in wealth and replete withgenerous hearts, of whose bounty I was a rich recipient. Thence we went to Shasta, where Mr. Hudson, a cousin of Hattie, had roomsin readiness for us at the American Hotel. The meeting of the cousins, after a separation of nineteen years, was a joyous one, their animatedconversation keeping time with the quick, impetuous throbbing of theirhearts. The pleasure of our day there was also much enhanced by thesprightly--even brilliant conversation of the hotel proprietress, Mrs. Green, whose three-score years and ten were worn as gracefully as many amaiden's sweet sixteen. As a protracted rain seemed inevitable, and all business possibilitieswere precluded, we assented to Mr. Hudson's proposition to visit hisbachelor quarters in the country, which we found to be one of the mostromantic, sylvan shades imaginable, with its little three roomed-cotembowered in vines and running roses, then in full bloom, and after thestorm, radiant in color, freighted with perfume and sparkling with liquidgems. Alone he had occupied this secluded spot for nineteen years, and inhis isolation-- "Had made him friends of mountains; With the stars and the quick spirits of the Universe, He held his dialogues, And they did teach to him The magic of their mysteries. " He was as familiar as a hunter, with every trail in the vicinity, and hetook us through every romantic, winding path, one of which led us to anelevation commanding a view of Mount Shasta, the highest peak of the CoastRange. Reluctantly we left this "pleasure dome, " which, although less statelythan that "in Xanadu of Kubla Kahn, " held all the fairy charms of a brightEutopia; and with the vain regrets which all must feel who leave somefancy realm for the cold regions of reality, we took the stage route forWeaversville, forty miles farther up the mountain heights, whose crestswere now white with snow, and the road in many places running within sixinches of the ragged chasms, thousands of feet in depth. Our stage was drawn by four horses, and, at one time, the snow accumulatedaround the foot of one of the leaders until it formed a huge ball, andwith this impediment he was partially precipitated over the edge of aprecipice. This noble animal exhibited more presence of mind than wouldhave characterized many human beings under similar circumstances, and, with great judgment, gradually extricated the foot from its snowy burden, and resumed his journey, but not before the face of every passenger wasblanched with terror. After a few days at Weaversville, we returned to Sacramento, feeling thatwe had enjoyed a pleasant and profitable trip. CHAPTER XXX. "A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays, And confident to-morrows. " We made a trip to San Francisco at a time when life seemed a continuedcarnival season, for there winter is the most delightful portion of theyear. We rented apartments in a delightful New England family, namedCollins. This, at that time, was the most comfortable way of living, forin no part of the United States did restaurants furnish such good andliberal fare at such reasonable rates. The characteristic cheerfulness ofCalifornia became intensified in San Francisco, where every face lookedradiant and happy as if all who entered the Golden Gate found a City ofthe Sun. We had so often asked the reason of this, and were as often told that "itwas all owing to the climate. " We finally concluded that the climatecarried an unusual weight of responsibility; indeed, according to JoaquinMiller, among "the first families of the Sierras, " every unusualphenomenon of nature, whether it came in the form of a fascinating widow, a spooney man, a premature birth, or a fish with gold in its stomach, wasall owing to "this glorious climate of Californy. " Although San Francisco is pervaded by the business activity of a greatcommercial metropolis, it is not possessed of the spirit of excessivedrudgery in the hot pursuit of the "almighty dollar" which prevails inmany other places. Every Saturday afternoon there is a lull in the laborroutine, business being entirely suspended, and the fashionablepromenades, Montgomery and Kearney Streets, are thronged with pleasureseekers; husbands and wives, lovers and sweethearts, happy children, gaycolors and brilliant equipages. Among the beautiful resorts is that of the Woodward Gardens, withzoological and floral departments, parks, lakes, dancing halls and skatingrink. A friend kindly accompanied us to the Cliff House, a delightfulresort upon the beach, about six miles from the city, and too well knownto require description. We remained in San Francisco about three months and a half, became everyday more fascinated with its charms, and would fain have rested longerunder the spell, but duty called us to many places on the coast, amongthem the floral Oakland, a perfect bijou garden and grove, and, likeAlemeda, a beautiful, suburban home for the merchant princes of SanFrancisco. We visited San Rafael and Santa Cruz, the Newport of California. At theformer place there was an incident, which, although of a personal nature, we mention as illustrative of the magnanimous character of theCalifornian, prone to err, but ever ready to confess a wrong. We enteredthe office of the County Clerk and offered him a book. Without removinghis feet from the counter, upon which they were elevated at an angle offorty-five degrees, he threw down a dollar and bade us "go along. " We "stood not upon the order of our going, " but went, taking care to leavethe dollar. A bystander said to me: "Take it! he is rich!" I quietlyassured him that I never accepted money without rendering an honestequivalent, and as I left I heard the ejaculation: "She's plucky, isn'tshe. " On entering a livery stable on the opposite side of the street, agentleman took the proffered book and opened to a page containing the nameof Aunt Nancy Lee. With an exclamation of surprise he said: "I have anaunt of that name. " This led to further conversation and a betteracquaintance, the person really proving to be his aunt. While we weretalking, the four gentlemen from the office of the County Clerk came in, and I being introduced in a new light they each bought a book, and theclerk made an ample apology for his abruptness, which I readily acceptedas an "amende honorable. " We went to Santa Barbara by steamer and greatly enjoyed the sail. Findingno pier upon our arrival, we had to descend an almost perpendicular ladderto a small boat. In this apparently perilous process, the boatmen wereactively assisted by Captain Johnson, whose mellow toned voice softenedand cheered the transit. In the descent, a woman dropped her baby intothe water, and, although it was quickly rescued by the seamen, hercontinued screams even after its safe delivery quite intimidated me, butwith the usual sure-footedness of the blind, I went down with so much easethat I was greatly complimented by the astonished captain. Our skiff-rideto shore was a pleasant episode, and the romance was much heightened bythe floating sea plants around us, which could be easily touched with ourhands. There were no good hotels in Santa Barbara, but we were comfortablyaccommodated in a private family. The climate is finer there than in anylocality in the State, the thermometer most of the time standing atseventy degrees, hence it is so greatly sought by consumptives. It was to me a delightful pastime to spend an occasional hour with thefishermen on the coast, who are so happy to impart any informationregarding their own calling, and from whom I learned many a valuablelesson. From Santa Barbara we went down the coast to a little railroad landing andtook the train bound inland; after leaving the beach the road passesthrough dense, fragrant orange-groves and rich, fruitful vineyards. A rideof twenty-five miles brought us to Los Angeles, a town with the samebeautiful surroundings. It was, at that time, a quaint, old, dilapidatedSpanish place, with an air of shabby gentility, but the subsequent tide ofimmigration and trade has doubtless transformed it. We returned to thecoast and took the steamer to San Diego, which, with its arid, sandywaste, has little to recommend it to the visitor, save its truly, palatialhotel, which must have been built in anticipation of the many projectedrailways diverging from this point. While there, our hearts were rejoiced by a meeting with Dr. Baird and hiswife, a pleasure known only to those who, exiled from home, see a "dearfamiliar face. " CHAPTER XXXI. "All that's bright must fade, The brightest, still the fleetest; All that's sweet was made, But to be lost, when sweetest. " We returned to Sacramento with minds refreshed and spirits brightened bythe delightful scenes through which we had passed during our coast trip. My life seemed to have received new radiance, and all things wore thebright "couleur de rose, " when one day there seemed something in Hattie'stouching tone which, like the "shadow of coming" events, sent through myheart a strange, premonitory thrill of sadness. She paused as if forprayerful preparation, ere she said: "Mary, I have something _sad_, something _terrible_ to tell you, and I wish to prepare you to bear itwith patience, even as I for five months have borne the burden with silentsubmission. " She then carefully, calmly, quietly revealed to me the factthat there was feeding upon her dear life one of those horrible vampiresof human disease--a cancer, which was slowly but surely drawing her nearerthe close. Suddenly all brightness and beauty died out for me, while cloudand gloom gathered around me, deep, dark and impenetrable; for so hadHattie entwined herself about my heart, that to my darkened days thereseemed for me no light, no life without her. Surely-- "Sorrows come not single spies, But in battalions, " And while I felt myself overwhelmed by this one deep grief in quicksuccession came another. One morning while at our breakfast, and withoutthe slightest preparation, tidings was brought to me that Chicago wasdestroyed by fire. My husband had just completed our new home, a comfortable resting place, with lovely garden and pleasant surroundings, and thither I had hoped erelong to go and rest from my labors. Daily, as the diagrams of the firereached us, we traced upon them the loved site of our home, as in theburnt district. All telegraphic and mail communication being cut off, we could receive nodirect news, and in the intensity and terror of suspense pictured our homedesolated, and friends perished in the horrible holocaust. Feeling that a resumption of our life of labor was inevitable, we partedwith the dear Sacramento friends, who had so kindly clung to us forfourteen months, with many a sigh and tear, and went to all the towns ofimportance between that place and Reno, Nevada, at which point we took thestage for Virginia City, and reached it after two weeks of inexpressibleagony, during which time food had scarce passed our lips or sleep visitedour eyes. On our arrival we were overjoyed to find awaiting us sevenletters from home. Oh the eternity that elapsed before the seals could betremulously broken! and the halcyon sweetness of relief of the happytidings of friends in safety and health. Although the fire-fiend had swepthis destructive wings over the property within a hundred yards of ourhome, through a sudden shifting of the wind its course had been changed, thus saving us from what would have seemed to me ruin. Gratefully weresumed our business and remained for seven weeks in Virginia City andvicinity, where we had most abundant success, for in spite of rock andledge, sand and tornado, the country abounds in full purses and warmhearts. At Carson City we found an United States Mint, where a gentlemandesignated Saturday afternoon, when the machinery was stopped, as a propertime to give us the benefit of a full examination, allowing me to toucheverything, and giving a satisfactory explanation of the "modus operandi"of money making. We went to Battle Mountain, where we took the stage for Austin, ninetymiles distant. We had nine passengers and twelve hundred weight of bullionin the bottom of the stage, together with innumerable satchels, umbrellasand brown-paper parcels. In this cramped position we traveled from oneo'clock in the afternoon until nine o'clock the next morning, aninfliction that was only rendered endurable by having a relay of horsesevery fifteen miles, and being permitted to rest upon terra firma duringthe changes. At Austin we unexpectedly met in the family of the hotel proprietorfriends of Hattie, from Illinois. The kind host proved to me a "GoodSamaritan, " for finding myself unable to walk he carried me in his arms tothe hotel, and safely entrusted me to the ministering care of his kindfamily. Desiring to cross over the country to Eureka, and the stage not venturingto the eminence upon which stood our hotel, we were obliged to go to theexpress office to take passage, where we were shocked at the sight ofthree maudlin men in an advanced stage of inebriety, throwing showers ofsilver money upon the ground, and ostentatiously allowing the crowd togather it up; while we were still more shocked to find that they were tobe inside passengers, and our only companions. With these three men and their "fade mecum, " "the whiskey bottle, " westarted on our journey that bleak, winter morning. Two of them soon becameso beastly drunk that their bottle fell out of the stage door and waslost beyond recovery. Their companion remained for a time sufficientlysober to prevent them from falling upon us in their constant oscillations, but, by the time they had reached the convalescent stage, he became sonauseated that it was necessary to hold his head out of the window forrelief, and, finally yielding to the soporific influence of his drams, helaid himself at full length upon our feet. Meantime a most gentlemanly person, of whose presence we were at firstignorant, would occasionally descend from the stage top, look at uscompassionately, ask if anything was wanted, and take leave. At one of hiscalls I asked him if we were not near our dining place, when, much to ourdiscomfort, he informed us of the impossibility of finding anything to eaton the road. We had provided no lunch, and, having partaken of a meagreand untimely breakfast, were fast becoming exhausted. He politely offeredto share with us his store of provisions, and at the next stopping placeescorted us to the rude log cabin with the air of a Knight Errant, tookoff our rubbers, placed them before the fire, and after otherindescribable and delicate attentions opened his basket and spread beforeus a lunch of truly, royal viands, which, in spite of our rudesurroundings, was eaten with unrivalled relish. Arriving at Eureka, we stopped at the Parker House, in which Mr. Hinckley, the proprietor, made every exertion to secure our comfort. It had rainedfor a week, and the streets were in such a horrible condition that we werefilled with forebodings of failure. Quite unexpectedly we againencountered our cavalier, who insisted upon lifting us over the deep mudof the crossings, placing us entirely at ease by the assurance that it wasthe custom of the country, after which he offered his assistance in thesale of books, and, going into a faro bank, he sold twelve copies at adollar and a half apiece. We described this gallant gentleman to Mr. Hinckley, who informed us thathe was Pete Fryer, the most noted gambler of the Pacific coast, whoseunrivalled success and universal popularity were in a great degree owingto his sobriety, his elegant presence and polished manner. Our next move was to Gold Point, where we spent a day. We met there aVirginia physician with whom we had a long and interesting conversation. We were boarders at the same hotel, and at the tea table he came over toHattie, and placing in her hand a ten dollar gold piece, said it was forthe blind lady, and he wished her to buy with it a keepsake. We went toPalisades in a mud-wagon, the only means of transportation at ourdisposal, and we found it highly appropriate, the mud being over the hubsof the wheels. In this primitive style we reached our destination upon Christmas Eve, weary and homesick; yet our Christmas dinner in this insignificant townwas choice and _recherche_, the quality and variety of the wines beingworthy of the cellar of a connoisseur. Our business success here wasgreater than in many larger towns. We visited the places en route to Ogden, and on our arrival there foundsnow almost two feet deep, and hundreds anxiously waiting for the arrivalof the Union Pacific train, which had not been in for two weeks. Thehotels were so intensely crowded that we were forced to wade through snowover our knees for half a day to find a comfortable place to stay, andwere very thankful for a third rate boarding house. The next day, when almost in despair, we heard in the distance the welcomesound of a locomotive whistle. The gentlemen rushed to the depot and soonbore us the pleasant tidings that the train would leave in two hours and ahalf. We hurriedly gathered together our baggage and sufficient suppliesfor a week, arriving at the train just in time to secure a section in thesleeping-car. Hoping for no more delay, we started, but ere long foundourselves landed in a snow bank, with five trains ahead of us, in the samepredicament. A three-days stand-still of this kind, with its tryingtedium, can be imagined only by those who have been similarly situated, and its tedium is equaled by nothing but an Ohio River sand barimprisonment on a stern wheel steamer. My sensibilities had quite a reawakening jog from an incidental abrasure, received by coming in contact with one of the acute angles in the personof Miss Susan B. Anthony, who honored us with her distinguished presence. She was in company with the family of the Honorable Mr. Sargent, UnitedStates Senator from California. This gentleman evinced great nativedelicacy in his quiet, unobtrusive attentions. Miss Susan had been veryimpatient at the long delay, and constantly berated the male sex and theirinadequacy to great emergencies, and was offered by the complimentedparties the privilege of engineering the train, an honor she respectfullydeclined. One day I was saluted by a voice, not sweetly feminine in tone, while an impetuous hand pitched, at me one of my own books. The voiceasked: "Were you ever in Michigan? Are you married? I knew a blind woman therewho had five children, and they were all deaf and dumb! _I think_ Congressought to pass a law to prevent these people from marrying and bringingsuch _creatures_ into the world!" These burning words came with the fierce force of the tornado and thehorrible heat of the simoon. So abruptly had she taken her leave, thatshe was beyond hearing before I could sufficiently recover to reply. WordsI would have spoken burned upon my lips, and emotions welled up from thedepths of an affection as deep, true and unfathomable as ever struggled insuch a heart as that of Susan B. Anthony. Long did I dwell upon the cruel words, wondering if they could haveemanated from a woman who advocated the inviolable rights and bewailed thedeep wrongs of her own sex, or if Congress had the power to exclude theblind from loving and following the holiest impulses of their natures, like other human beings! After our extrication we sped on to Sherman, the highest of the mountaintowns, and the Railroad Company treated us to a dinner, which, althoughpoor, was much relished, after our protracted dieting. After leavingLaramie we had another delay of two days' length, after which we went viaCheyenne to Omaha, rejoicing, and after eleven days of weary travel feltourselves really homeward bound. CHAPTER XXXII. "'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark, Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw Near home; 'Tis sweet to know there is an eye Will mark our coming, and look brighter When we come. " We reached home in mid-winter, and found a scene of indescribabledesolation, the fire having devastated so many familiar spots in thecity's approach; depots in ashes and entire streets a wide waste. Findingno one to meet us, with the longed-for, loving welcome, we were torturedwith fear, and went at once to Mr. Arms' place of business, where welearned that he was at home and sick. Thither we hurriedly wended our way, and, although we found the invalid unable to leave his bed, we thought itsweet to find ourselves in this our _first_ home, which, having beenreared in my absence, seemed like a magic castle bridging over the sadseparation. My husband soon convalesced and we began to lay plans for furnishing ournew abode. I still suffered from a cold upon my lungs contracted from thelong exposure on the plains, and it fell to the lot of Hattie to assistMr. Arms in the selection of our household goods. She had become eyes andhands for me, and I never so fully realized how the touch of sympathycould blend _two_ tastes in _one_, for every article met my entireapproval. I will not dwell upon the joys of our new home; but well has thepoet said-- "Each man's chimney is his golden mile stone, Is the central point from which He measures every distance Through the gateway of the world Around him. "We may build more splendid habitations, Fill our rooms with paintings And with sculpture; But we cannot buy with gold The old association. " In every Paradise since the first Eden the inevitable trail of the serpenthas been over all, and too often it comes in its halcyon hours. Insidiously and surely came the stealthy trail of our serpent in thedeclining health of my husband, and the impending danger to the dear lifeof Hattie. I took her to every physician who made her disease a specialty, going farand near to consult them, each one of whom would shake their heads indespair, yet all seeming willing to undertake her case. But to me she wastoo precious to be submitted to experimental treatment. Finally the fameof Dr. Kingsley reached us. He was known as the Great American CancerDoctor, and we went at once to his cure, in Rome, New York. The same ominous shade came with his examination, and he too failed topromise a cure. Passing through the wards of his hospitals, with theiragonizing and appalling scenes, the shrieks of pain ringing likedeath-knells in our ears, decided us, neither of us being willing sheshould submit to a fate so fraught with fearful contingencies. We were stopping with a family named Crawford, who were friends of Hattie, and whose unremitting kindness will be a life-long memory. We returned to them in deep despair, when we heard of Mr. Golly, aneighboring farmer, who was performing almost miraculous cures, and we atonce took the stage and went to him. A few moments conversation inspired us with confidence in the man, whosefrank face was an index to his character, and whose sympathetic soulbreathed through every intonation of his gentle voice. He advised her to remain for treatment, assuring her, that if she wasunable to pay, it would cost her nothing. We were willing to remunerate if certain of cure, and, knowing the dreaduncertainty of the case, this noble man revealed in his offer his truemagnanimity. I remained with her two months, when home demands becameimperative, and I longingly left one who, through nine years of _close_and _dear_ relationship had become a life link hard to sever. With undying gratitude to good Mr. Golly, I left her confided to hisfatherly care, knowing he could not prove recreant to the trust. CHAPTER XXXIII. "There was a time when meadow, Grove and stream, The earth and every common sight To me did seem Appareled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it has been of yore, Turn where soe'r I may, By night or day, The things that I have seen I now can see no more. " Upon our return to Chicago I found my husband so ill that he yielded tothe advice of his physician to go to the Mineral Springs of St. Louis, andthere being a heavy drain upon our finances, I felt it necessary to resumemy travels. Disagreeable as was the task, it was tolerable only for itsbenefit to loved ones. Ida, the young daughter of my favorite brother, had just graduated, herlaurels still green and her heart full of girlish enthusiasm. With thesanction of her parents she kindly consented to accompany me. Kindred tiesare deep and strong, and her society was like a ray of sunshine in myclouded pathway. Mr. Keep, the Manager of the North-western Railway, presented us with ageneral pass, and we started for the Lake Superior country, first visitingmany of the beautiful towns of Wisconsin, among which was Peshtigo, thenbut partially rebuilt from its recent ravages from fire. In canvassing wecalled at the house of Mrs. Armstrong, who kept a book, and asked us tocall in the afternoon for the money. During the day her little daughter had become so interested in the "storyof the blind girl, " that she insisted upon going out to buy her a dress, which she presented in person. Little Nellie's gift of simple calico wasas precious to me as if of silken texture and Tyrion dye, and "waxed rich"with the royalty of sympathy and love. We visited Escanaba, a beautiful summer resort upon Lake Michigan, spending a delightful week in the elegant hotel, which rests in the shadedseclusion of park and garden, and gaining renewed health and vigor. We had a short, sweet stay at Marquette, saw the "Isle of Yellow Sands"with its luring light, the "Pictured Rocks" bearing the tracery of theDivine Artist, and all the well-known beauties of Lake Superior. On our way to Ishpenming we were presented with tickets to the concert of"Blind Tom, " the musical prodigy and whilom slave boy, through whoseGod-given talent the former master had amassed quite a fortune. We heard his improvised and memorized melodies, and were struck with aweand wonder. After the concert we went to the Commercial Hotel, where I was suddenlyand violently attacked with a congestive chill, in which emergency Mrs. Newett, the landlady, proved a ministering angel, her thorough knowledgeof the disease and prompt devoted attendance no doubt saving my life. We next visited L'Anse, the terminus of the Marquette Railroad, and founda delightful hotel, bearing the euphonious name of Lake Linden House, suggestive of the beautiful grounds gracefully sloping to the edge of thelake, whose "wide waste of waters" seemed a "sapphire sea" set withemerald gems, from one of which verdant spots gleaming in the picturesquedistance rose the symmetrical spire of a cathedral, whose cross stood outlike a beautiful "bas relief" from the violet background; and the solemnvoice of the convent bell told the hour when orisons arose like holyincense to the skies. A fitting resort for the student, and the reclusewas this secluded spot, where nature opened her fairest page, and beautyplanted her altars on earth, in air and sky, and where "devotion wafts themind above. " We crossed in the steamer to Houghton, beautifully located upon a windingstream, and we were pleasantly entertained at the Butterfield House. We remained some time, lingering among the towns in its vicinity, andreturned home improved in health and finances. Before settling down for the winter I resolved to visit a few towns in thevicinity of Chicago, and among them Sycamore, where there was anunexpected episode in my hitherto eventful career, a touching incidentand "words fitly spoken, " which the good book says are as "apples of goldin pictures of silver. " My husband having once been engaged in business at Sycamore, I was inconstant expectation of meeting some of his old associates; hence, was notso much surprised when, upon entering a store, a gentleman stepped downfrom his desk, and warmly grasping both of my hands, exclaimed: "I knowyou. " I quickly and inquiringly responded, you are perhaps a friend of myhusband? Oh no, he replied, I do not know your husband, but I have greatreason to remember you, for you were the cause of my salvation! Moved and wondering, I tried in vain to recall the time when I could havebeen an humble agent in the hands of the Heavenly Father, even to thesalvation of a human soul. Shakspeare has said that-- "Ofttimes to win us to our harm The instruments of darkness tell us truths; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence. " And why should not the same "honest trifles" win us to good. He then explained to me that eight years previous he was in Burlington, Wisconsin, having wandered far from the fold in which a patient, loving, Christian mother had faithfully tended her flock, teaching them the wisdomof divine truth and loving lessons of duty to God and man. He had entered a saloon and sat down to a card-table with a congenialcompanion, when suddenly lifting his eyes a lady stood beside him offeringhim a little book, and something in the expression of that face rivetedhis attention and penetrated the depths of his soul, inspiring resolves_new_ and _strange_. While years had passed since that time, he had neverforgotten the lineaments which had changed the whole tenor of his life. Both his companion and himself bought books, threw down their cards, andfrom his own assurance he has never since been tempted to indulge in agame. The next winter he made his peace with God and became a consistent andsteadfast member of the Congregational Church. The following spring he was married to one who was in every way fitted tominister to his higher impulses and lead him to a holier life, and whilehe has ever since been actively engaged in every good "word and work, " heis especially engrossed with Sabbath School duties, in which field he hasplanted many a seed, from which has been reaped richest harvests andfairest fruitage. Their cozy, little home, is a fair and faithful mirror, reflecting theunostentatious, goodness, purity and love which characterizes every act oftheir private lives, whose peaceful, even tenor is indicated in thetasteful apartments, pervaded with purity and touched with the delicatetracery of taste. Fair flowers grace almost every nook of this trulyEden-home, and its bright blooming garden is a fitting type of theirlives, blossoming with goodness and fragrant with the incense of holiness. It is not strange that these dear people seemed to me like lovedrelations; our meeting like a reunion with some pure spirits with whom myheart had held communion in other days, their voices coming to me likesome sweet strain of unforgotten music. I left them, feeling grateful that my little book had been the humbleinstrument of so much good, and was happy in the thought that it had beenso thoroughly read and discussed in the little Sabbath School, that I hadmany warm friends in Sycamore. Before I left he pleadingly besought me never to pass by a saloon in mycanvassing tours, for I little knew the good my presence might bringabout. I have faithfully followed his advice, ever buoyed by the hope ofsome equally happy result, and never having met with an indignity orrepulse, this class of people ranking among my most generous patrons. As from every event in life we gather some golden lesson of wisdom, fromthis I learned to-- "Think nought a trifle Though it small appear Small sands make up the mountain, Moments make the year, And trifles life!" CHAPTER XXXIV. "While, O, my heart! as white sails shiver, And crowds are passing, and banks stretch wide; How hard to follow with lips that quiver, That moving speck on the far-off side! Farther, farther--I see it--I know it-- My eyes brim over, it melts away, Only my heart, to my heart shall show it, As I walk desolate day by day. " At home for the winter, I was joined by my husband, who had entered intobusiness, and constant tidings of Hattie's convalescence cheered me. Idabeing obliged to visit home, I was left in entire charge of my house, daily bewailing the fatal effects of inexperience, when, as ever, a friendwas furnished me in the hour of need. Mrs. Leavitt, my neighbor "over theway, " was a lady of great personal attraction, whose beautiful head wascrowned with the glory of prematurely white hair. She ministered to me inso many ways. In reading or conversation her melodious voice lent a charmto the most ordinary theme. Nor did she deem it degrading to enter thedomestic realm, and there as everywhere she reigned a queen. The flutter of a handkerchief at the window blind was my "signal ofdistress, " and when my "Ship of State" seemed sinking amid the breakers ofdomestic storms, her strong arm ever saved. When, the dread emergency ofdinner demanded more skill than my amateur art supplied, she came to therescue, and as she presided in the kitchen, teaching to compound somesavoury sauce or delicate dish, the process was interlarded with some sagesentiment from Bacon and other profound philosophers; while, like Joe'spractical sermon over the "plum pudding" came her comments "My dear!_knowledge_ is _power_, " thus deeply impressing me with the potency of herpresence even in the culinary department. Hence from this dear friend I received not only the "fullness ofknowledge, " but the richness of affection also. She finally drifted awayfrom me to the sunny, flowery land of Florida, whence sweet memories arewafted to me through her love-laden letters, under whose sentiment thereflows the same deep under-current of thought. In the dreary month of January, Hattie came with the snow drifts, bringingwith her presence a bright sun-ray, for she was buoyant with the hope ofhealth, and I rejoicing that her life could be lengthened, perhaps saved, hence the winter passed in mapping out plans for the future. But, with theearly spring, the dread disease reappeared with such intensity that I felther doom to be irrevocably sealed, while "hope fled and mercy sighed. "Prompted by a hope of enhancing her interest, I accompanied her toMorrison, Illinois, where she was awaited by two loving sisters, who, together with their noble husbands, so tenderly cared for her that it insome degree appeased the sad reluctance of giving her into other hands. Mr. Arms' health had now become so seriously impaired that he haddetermined to seek the benefit of the Hot Springs of Arkansas, and, afterhe left, I secured the services of Miss Josie Tyson as travelingcompanion, and started for the lead mining regions of Wisconsin, makingMineral Point my headquarters. This town is the shipping-place for theore, and I was surprised to find it with several thousandinhabitants--abounding in wealth and greatly advanced in culture, while itbecame afterward endeared to me by the extreme kindness of its people. Mylittle jaunts from this place by private conveyance made a pleasantvariety in the monotony of travel, after which we visited Mendota andSouth Western Iowa, where we spent a delightful summer. We returned to Morrison the day before Thanksgiving, and I lingered twoweeks with Hattie. Surely "blessings brighten as they take their flight, "and with us the sadly, blissful moments flew all too fast, both silentlyimpressed that it might be our last communion. In my absence her delicateand refined taste had designed a gold ring which she had made as a partinggift. As she placed it upon my finger she leaned her head upon my shoulderand wept bitterly, telling me in tenderest tones her sorrow at leaving onewho so much needed her, pleading with me to have patience to bear theseparation. These tears from fountains deep and pure must have been aspotent at the throne of grace as the one so graphically described bySterne; even that of the Recording Angel, who, in the bright Empyrean, dropped a tear upon the word left by the Accusing Spirit "and blotted itout forever. " Physicians agreeing that she might live at least a year, I yielded to herpersuasion to go South for the benefit of my own health, and-- "In silence we parted, for neither could speak; But the trembling lip and the fast fading cheek To both were betraying what neither could tell; How deep was the pang of that silent farewell. " After a short season devoted to the arrangement of home matters, I startedSouth via the Chicago and Alton Railroad. At Dwight, Illinois, we stoppedat the McPherson House, where we had a delightful suite of rooms. Theproprietor had attained to the years allotted to man, yet was sowonderfully preserved that he seemed a stalwart man of fifty. He spent anevening in our parlor, feasting us with the richness of his reminiscence. He had served in both the regular army and navy, his travels leading himto lands afar, and his naval service landing him at almost every port inthe world, yet he had never carried a more dangerous weapon than apenknife, always having been unharmed and unmolested. His creed consistedof six words, viz. : "Deal mercifully, walk humbly before God. " These"articles of faith, " simple as the "new commandment" which Christ gave tohis disciples, I give unto you, and beautiful as the "Golden Rule" ofConfucius, were certainly in my own case carried out both "in the letterand the spirit;" for he at first peremptorily refused any remuneration forour elegant accommodations, but, finding me inexorable, very reluctantlyconsented to accept half pay. The weather grew so cold, and the times so dull, we did not halt againuntil we reached St. Louis, where we both had relatives and friends whohelped us to while away the holiday hours. While there we visited theInstitution for the Blind, our pleasure being much enhanced by the raremusic we heard and the polite attention of Professor Workman, theSuperintendent. The Superintendent of the Iron Mountain Railway presented us with a pass, jocularly remarking that it was equal to an eighty dollar New Year's gift. Mr. C. C. Anderson, of Adams' express, upon the strength of our oldBaltimore acquaintance, gave me letters of introduction, which afterwardproved of infinite value. CHAPTER XXXV. "With the fingers of the blind We are groping here to find What the hieroglyphics mean Of the _unseen_ in the _seen_. What the thought which underlies Nature's masking and disguise, What it is that hides beneath Blight and bloom, and birth and death. " We left St. Louis with its noble depot and stupendous bridge, and reachingIron Mountain we seemed to have emerged from dense darkness into dazzlinglight. Going to the clean, elegant hotel, our faces, covered with St. Louis soot, were in such grim contrast with our sunny surroundings, thatwe had to go through an elaborate course of ablution before we could feelourselves presentable. Iron Mountain is a _monster_ mass of iron, one ofthe largest and purest of the kind in the world. In 1836 it was boughtfor the insignificant sum of six hundred dollars, and now its worth isincalculable. Being unwilling to brave mud and small towns, we made no stops until wereached Little Rock, Arkansas, where, at the untimely hour of threeo'clock in the morning, we went to the Central House, the only hotel whichhad survived their recent fires, and which we found so crowded that eventhe doors were closed against us. Our party of five went out in quest of shelter, the night pervaded by "theblackness of darkness, " and the rain pouring in torrents. One of thegentlemen was a member of the Legislature, and quite an invalid. Growingfaint from exhaustion, he fell into a mud hole, and was fairly immersed inits slimy depths. After a long search we finally found a poor refuge andan execrable bed, but in the morning were favored in securing comfortableprivate accommodations. While at Little Rock we visited all the State institutions, and among themthat for the blind. After ten days of business success, we went to all thetowns on the Arkansas River, and were charmed with its scenery, for whilethe classical meander, it winds in graceful beauty through forests which, although too low and ragged to please the eye, clothe a country otherwisepicturesque in character. A strange peculiarity of the Arkansas River isthat of the emerald green color which deeply tinges its crystal clearness, a fact which I found no one able to explain satisfactorily. Fort Smith is nominally at the head of river navigation, but is reallyaccessible by steamer only during a very small portion of the year, whenthe water is at an unusually high stage. It is beautifully located, andhas a main street known as "The Avenue, " which is between two and threehundred feet in width. This avenue is a great business centre, and atalmost all times a scene of animated interest, while at its head standprominently a cathedral and a convent. The swift passing panorama of the avenue is ofttimes varied by apicturesque group of Chocktaws or Cherokees, with grotesque costume, thisplace being their principal rendezvous. Just at the edge of the town is aNational Cemetery of great natural beauty, with but little of the stiffregularity which usually characterizes such places. We found a great lack of educational advantages throughout the entireState of Arkansas, there being no public schools, and the private ones fewin number and poor in character; but it has never been my good fortune tomeet kinder hearts than were encountered among the masses. At Arkadelphia we had a regular Arkansas deluge, and the first class hotelof this flourishing town of two thousand souls would indeed have been apoor ark for Father Noah and his family. Its walls were lathed but notplastered, and from our apartment we had an extended view of the entirefloor. Our furniture consisted of two wooden chairs, a box turned upside down fora toilet-stand, a rickety bedstead, with unmusical creak, a tumble-downlounge, and dismal, but genuine tallow dip. In these quarters we spentfour days, during which time the rain poured with unremitting constancy. In the parlor of the same edifice was an elegant piano, and magnificentlydressed ladies, and our constant amazement was, how, in this strangecountry, extremes could so amicably meet. I found in Arkadelphia two blind gentlemen, who were prosperous merchants;and to me, this spoke volumes for a community who would so generouslysustain the afflicted rather than allow them the condescension of beggary. We next visited Hope, a town of three thousand inhabitants, yet havingnumbered but three years of existence; and while these people areconsidered so slow in progression, this fact indicated a considerabledegree of Yankee go-a-head activity. This town is one of the importantcotton markets of the State, which branch of trade imparts an additionalbusiness activity. We turned toward Hot Springs, the Baden of America, and when within twentymiles of this wonderful place we encountered a throng of that class ofhuman pests known as "hotel runners, " thick as bees, and more stinginglyannoying, for they especially abounded in low jests and ribald storieswhich grate so harshly upon sensitive ears. It would certainly be an actof philanthropy, both to the hotels and their patrons, to take somemeasure for the suppression of this nuisance. The approach to Hot Springs, and the first glimpse of the stream, smokingas if its bed rested upon some subterranean fire, are in themselvesawe-inspiring. The valley is narrowed to the limits of three hundred feet, and the road winds gracefully around the base of the mountain, upon whosetop the cold spring furnishes a better beverage than iced champagne; whileclose by its side bubbles the boiling spring, in which eggs can be cookedto perfection; and with a little seasoning of salt and pepper, the mostluscious soup can be improvized, while the boiling water _au naturale_ canbe drunk in copious, life-giving draughts. The hotels are ranged upon either side of the road, and have all thenecessary bathing appointments. Among the many novelties to a stranger wasthe process of dressing chicken, which was their staple article of food. The hot stream was the only necessary cauldron for the scalding process, while the feathers were thrown into the swift current, and rapidly carriedaway by the natural sewerage, a decidedly labor-saving process, andsomewhat characteristic of the locality and its native cooks. The various forms of treatment consist of hot, cold, vapor and mud baths, and have been so often described that a repetition would be monotonous;their efficacy being almost unfailing, except in cases of pulmonarydisease, in which they would soon prove fatal. One who has ever enjoyedthese baths will always long for the luxury years after leaving thembehind. We reluctantly left this valley, teeming with rich quarries of valuablestone and various ores, luscious fruits, and the trifling drawbacks ofrattlesnakes, centipedes and tarantulas, and went to Texaskana, which islocated at the junction of the three States of Texas, Arkansas andLouisiana, hence its name. It is a great railroad centre, and it is very curious to visit the depotamid the rushing thousands who daily pass through this place on their wayto Texas. It is a wildly romantic place, built upon a clearing of fortyacres without any decided plan, streets running at random very much likethe old cowpaths of Manhattan, and houses grouped in picturesqueconfusion. Finding the main hotel crowded, the proprietor manifested anunheard-of disinterestedness in a two hours search to find us suitableaccommodations elsewhere, an act of magnanimity worthy of especial noteand remembrance. CHAPTER XXXVI. "Oh, ever thus from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay; I never loved a tree, or flower, But it was first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well And love me, it was sure to die. " We reached Jefferson, Texas, when the excitement was rife over the murderof Bessie Moore, the terrible details of which sent a thrill of horrorover the entire United States. It rained during the several days of ourstay there; but thanks to the earnest endeavors of Mrs. Frazer, of theFrazer House, I did very well in my business. Many of the fairest portionsof the town had been laid waste by the destructive ravages of incendiaryfires, and had never been rebuilt. Marshall is one of the most enterprising towns in the State, being a greatrailroad centre, and settled almost exclusively by Northern people. We had a most delightful visit to Shreveport, Louisiana: It lies at thehead of Red River navigation, and is the port of entry for New Orleanssteamers, being a place of great wealth and equal generosity. The editorsworked with great zest to aid me, and among the many people I met very fewfailed to buy books. The genial skies and bright sunshine made it hard torealize that it was the winter season; and I shall ever revert to itswarm-hearted people not only with pleasure but with gratitude. At Longview--in the dilapidated prison-like room of my hotel, I receivedtidings of the death and burial of Hattie. My surroundings were in suchsad accord with my feelings, that I wondered if the sun would ever shine, or the flowers bloom again, so much light went out with her dear life. At Longview we took a branch of the International Railroad toPalestine--Mr. Smith, the Vice-President of the road, not only largelypatronizing me, but presenting me with a six months' pass and theassurance that if I ever again visited the State a letter addressed to himwould ensure a repetition of the favor. Thence we went to Galveston, where Mr. Arms had been for three monthstrying the efficacy of sea-bathing. This city is beautifully located upona fertile island in Galveston Bay. The streets are lined upon either sidewith oleander trees, which, arching over at the top, form a very bower ofbloom, while every breath of the clear bright air is balmy with the odorof orange blossoms. The Mesquite trees, with attenuated leaves and gracefully drooping pods, adorn all the parks of the city, the beans forming a delicious dish eithercooked or raw. No wonder Texas is called "The Happy Hunting Ground, " for the fivedelightful weeks we spent in Galveston seemed like a dream of Paradise. Its many pleasures were varied by sailing and bathing, every morningfinding us upon the pure, white beach, where the waves whispered thesweetest melodies. We went back to Houston in the month of bloom, and no "vale of Cashmere"could have been more beautiful in its "feast of roses. " The street car ran to the depot, and we found in it but one passenger, agentleman who carried a rose in his hand. Noticing at once that I wasblind, he arose and said to me, "Although you cannot see the beautifulflowers you can inhale their sweetness, " at the same time asking me toaccept the rose. His delicate kindness and urbane manner struck a deepchord in my heart, and I never think of Houston without recalling thegentle touch and tone. I must not omit to mention an act of generosity upon the part of therailroad office at Galveston. Leaving there I had paid fare to Houston, and the agent refunded five dollars, adding that I should never be allowedto pay railroad fare. After remaining two weeks at Houston I took the Sunset Route to SanAntonia, and stopped at the Central House on the main plaza. This is theoldest town in Texas, and is called "The Stone City, " its antiquebuildings and narrow winding streets giving it a quaint, time-worn air. San Antonia River rises from a low spring, four miles distant from thecity, and gracefully winds through its streets, and is here and therespanned by beautiful rustic bridges. The "City Gardens" are one block distant from the main plaza, and arelocated upon an island of great natural beauty, romantically approached bya floating bridge. The air is cool and refreshing from the river breeze, fair flowers, bloom and sweet voiced birds rival the musical instrumentswhich lead the merry feet of the dancers. A mile from the city are the San Pedro Springs, a lovely park often acresin area, where springs flow out into crystal purling streams, formingislands, lakes, and ponds white and fragrant with their lily bloom, whileshining green lizards and other reptiles peep curiously out from the rocksand glide away into the stream. Just across the main plaza stands the old Spanish cathedral, with itsmusical chime of bells sending out on the perfumed air melodies sweet asvesper songs. We went to the old Alamo, felt the antique cannon used by the Mexicans, were shown the room in which Bowie died and the spot where fell the braveColonel Crockett, who, with his handful of men, so gallantly held thecitadel, at which time he was taken alive, together with five otherprisoners, and ordered by Santa Anna to be killed. Just before the fatal sword-thrust, which ended a life so fraught withdaring and danger, he sprang like a tiger at the throat of Santa Anna, hisface wearing even in death this expression of fiendish, scowling hatred. San Antonia being the great market for the frontier, is a place of greatbusiness activity. While there I was struck with amazement to see a dirty, ragged man mounted upon a jaded, dilapidated horse, a very Sancho Panzaand Rezinante, smilingly asking alms of the passer-by. I had often heard of, but never before saw a veritable "beggar onhorseback. " CHAPTER XXXVII. "Light, warmth, and sprouting greenness, And o'er all Blue, stainless, steel-bright ether Raining down Tranquility upon the deep hushed town The freshening meadow and the hillside brown. " We went from San Antonio to Austin, the capital of Texas, where I had adelightful interview with Governor Hubbard, who, although much engrossedwith the cares of State, seemed for the time to lay them all aside, andgave me his undivided attention. Certainly if "all the world's a stage, and men and women merely players, " this versatile gentleman appeared aswell in the role of courtier as in that of the statesman. The Government Buildings are of finished architectural art, and stand amidcultivated grounds, upon a commanding eminence. At the State House door isa monument to the memory of Colonel David Crockett and the bravecompanions who foil with him at St. Alamo. The public Institutions of Austin are a credit to "The Lone Star" State, especially that for the Blind, at which I spent a day, and was charminglyentertained by Dr. Raney and his accomplished wife. The matron alsodispensed hospitalities with so much true dignity and grace, and I nevervisited an institution in which the inmates were so pre-eminently refined, its sixty-five pupils numbering so many accomplishments. In response to a solicitation from Dr. Raney I addressed the school. Thiswas done through a social chat, in which the little group circled closearound me, and while I never so longed for "the poetry of speech" torender the deep emotion of my heart, I really believe no elocutionist, with all "the charm of delivery, " could have had a more attentiveaudience. Waco is known as the Athens of Texas, and among its many Institutions ofLearning is the Baptist University, open to both sexes. It is under thecharge of Doctor Burlison, who extended to me an invitation to meet theschool at their chapel exercises. The "sweet hour of prayer" being over, he disposed of many of my books andbaskets among the pupils. This gentleman was deeply engrossed with theeducational interests of the State, and had traveled over its length andbreadth to enhance its prosperity, being more especially engaged in thepublic school system. The next day twenty-five of the young lady pupils, chaperoned by their teachers, called upon me at the McLennan House. Theywere all characterized by discreet and lady-like deportment, and as therewas a fine toned piano in the parlor, there was no lack of artistic music. We had also an equally kind reception from the Reverend Mr. Wright andlady of the Methodist College. Waco is on the Brazos River, which is spanned by a graceful suspensionbridge, the pride of the town. During my visit they held their celebratedfete known as "The Maifest, " which lasted two days, and the gay andfantastic procession in which all professions and trades were representedmade it almost as gorgeous as a carnival. From Waco we went to Dallas, which is located upon Trinity River, and isthe Metropolis of Northern Texas. There was little to note in my staythere, except the amusingly antagonistic reasons assigned by two men fornot giving me their patronage. Their business houses were upon the sameside of one street, and not very remote from each other. One refusedbecause my book was not sufficiently religious in its tone, and the otherbecause he saw the name of the Lord upon one of its pages. It was plainlyevident in both cases that the name of the "Almighty Dollar" as its pricewas the most probable impediment. It was now the last of May, and the intense heat induced me to gonorthward; indeed those who hope to enjoy a visit in that part of Texasmust go at some time between the months of September and May, for duringthe remainder of the year the inhabitants do nothing but "try to keepcool. " We stopped over one train at the beautiful town of Sherman, and thenhurried on to St. Louis, where I found my old friend Mrs. Anderson, who, having visited Baltimore the previous summer, had learned all theparticulars of the death of the beloved Superintendant of our Institutionduring my life there. Mr. Charles H. Keener was the son of Christian Keener, the founder ofGreenmount Cemetery of Baltimore, a sweet resting place which could fitlyreceive the appellation given their cemeteries by the Turks--"A City ofthe Living. " He was the brother of Bishop J. C. Keener, of the MethodistEpiscopal Church South, who is quite celebrated as a Divine. His life wascharacterized by a succession of shining acts of self-sacrifice andaffection, and his nature, so quiet and unobtrusive, shrunk so sensitivelyfrom ostentation, that greatness must have been "thrust upon him" ere heheld a name emblazoned upon the roll of fame. His character in contrastwith publicly great men has been most graphically told by the German poet, who sang-- "One on earth in silence wrought, And his grave in silence sought; But the younger, brighter form, Passed in battle, and in storm. " As the Superintendent of our Institution, he held the hearts of everyinmate. His younger brother, in a letter of response to some queries, said--"He was an Engineer in the United States Navy during the War of theRebellion, a devoted son, a true patriot, and an earnest Christian man. "He was afterward stationed on the "Island of Navassa, " one of the WestIndia Group, within one hundred miles of Cuba, and was acting asSuperintendent of a Phosphate Company which owned, and worked the Island. He had been there during eighteen months, when, in September, 1872, theyellow fever broke out in the Island. After several weeks' resistance he, too, succumbed to this terrible scourge, and, after a six days' illness, died on the 9th of November, 1872. His brother also feelingly makes mention of his last letter, written uponthe day of his attack, as "a marvel of calm resignation. " It runs thus: "Iam fast getting ready to be counted among the sick. When you know I amreally dead write to--(here follow the names of many friends) and tellthem to meet me in Heaven. One by one we are passing over, why should wehesitate? why should I with no one to care for? Surely I have seen troubleenough in this life! May I feel as little dread of dying at the lastmoment as I do now. " His last words were addressed to his second officer, who had been addictedto dissipation, but who had pledged himself to reform. As he was carriedout to look upon the sea which he loved so well, he said: "Mawson, remember your pledge, " when his head immediately dropped and he enteredinto the life eternal. So did the life of this good man pass gently away while he was still inthe prime of manhood. He was carried to beautiful Greenmount for burial, near the city in which his name will be coupled with loving memories forlong years to come. CHAPTER XXXVIII. "Alas for him who never sees The stars shine through his cypress trees! Who hopeless lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play! Who hath not learned in hours of faith The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever Lord of Death, And love can never lose its own!" A short time after our return home, Miss Tyson, having become weary oftraveling, I accompanied her to Morrison, and after spending a few daysthere left her with friends and went alone to Pecatonica, when Ida againaccompanied me in my travels. On my return I stopped at Winnebago, Illinois, to visit the hallowed spot in which Hattie lay buried. As Iapproached the cemetery mingled memories of her beautiful life camesurging through my soul, and a deep silent awe stole over me. I sent myfriends away to another part of the grounds that I might be entirelyalone with my dead, and as I knelt in the stillness of that sacred hour Ifelt that the grave held only the precious clay, and that the sweetspirit-presence was there trying to comfort me as it had always done inearth-life, while, as the soft sound of the June wind stole through thetrembling evergreen near by, it seemed to whisper a sweet song, whoseburden sighed-- Love will dream and faith will trust, Since he who knows our needs is just; That somehow, somewhere, meet we must. As I turned away I felt the strong ray of sunshine which fell upon hergrave, and rested there a halo and a promise! Our first stop going Westward was at Kansas City, and as it was the firstof August we found the colored people out in a well-filled procession, celebrating this, one of their great Emancipation days. Ida having seenvery few colored people during her life was furnished an amusingentertainment. We also visited Lawrence, which is so marked in Kansasannals, and Topeka, the capital, but as my experience in this Statediffers so materially from that in any other (not making sufficientthrough my sales to cover expenses), I will hurriedly pass it by. We took the sleeping car at Topeka, but, as a "washout" had destroyed thetrack for some distance, I left the train with the other passengers, andwalked with precision over culverts and places of danger with ofttimesonly a narrow plank for my track. A gentleman who kindly led me smilinglysaid this was indeed "walking by faith, " and it was true blind eyes neverhave aught but faith "as a lamp to their feet and a guide to their path. " After leaving Salina there was nothing to be seen but a blank, desolateplain, as monotonous as a silent, sailless sea, grimly varied by anoccasional station, with a few "dugouts" for houses. The mail on thistrain was most unceremoniously delivered by being thrown from the cars, and it was very amusing to witness the confusion and rush for itscontents, for the love-laden and business-burdened missives are as dear tothese people as to the most cultured members of society. The frequent recurrence of the little sand-hill communities, known asprairie dog cities, was of novel interest to us, and the habits of thesecreatures a curious study. They build their sand-hill habitations asskillfully as the beaver erects his dam, and are so untiring in followingtheir instinct of self-preservation that they stand as constant sentinelsat the entrance of their homes, and in any case of danger play to suchperfection the role of "the artful dodger" that they are never caught. It is a singular fact that these animals are very rarely killed, and if bychance some "unlucky dog" should lose his life he is hurried out of sightby his devoted companions with so much celerity that his body is neverfound. Fifty miles before reaching Denver the snow crowned tops of Gray's andJames' Peaks are clearly revealed, while from one point alone will Pike'sPeak allow the traveler a glimpse of his glorious grandeur. We were toldthat the former mountains were more frequently visible at a distance ofone hundred miles. We neared Denver just as the sun was sinking, enthroned in purple and amber and gold, with a faint, delicate rosy flushtinging the edge of the more royal hues. Its truly Italian beauty was sovividly pictured to me by Ida, that I could almost realize the regalsplendor of a Colorado sunset. Completely tired out and covered withalkaline dust, we were grateful for the rest and comfort afforded by theelegant Wentworth House. We spent a week in Denver, fraught with interest, for while it is a citydestitute of the charm of historical associations and musty memories, which add so much interest to most foreign cities and many Americanlocalities, it so abounds in youthful life with its warm and boundingcurrents, its vim and vigor, that it teems with varying attractions. Itsbroad avenues, softened by shade, its stately residences and mammothbusiness blocks, render it as imposing as many old cities, and indicatebut little of its real primitive struggles for life, and the dangerousaggressions of the "Red Man;" its truly western pluck having ranked theseamong the things that were. The elliptical basin in which Denver is built, sloping north and east, gives it a picturesque and extended view; the mountains losing themselvesin one direction in the now historic "Black Hills, " and in the othermerging into the "Spanish Peaks" and "Sangre de Christo Range, " so namedfrom a natural symbol of the Christian faith, a snowy cross grandlygleaming in the distance. Taking the Colorado Central Railway we went through the Clear Creek Cañon, with its rich and fertile fields to Golden, so beautifully sheltered inthe valley at the base of the mountain, and whose air was more life-givingto me than that of any other portion of Colorado. In the vicinity of thislittle Eden we climbed a rock seven hundred feet high, and while twolaborious hours were occupied in the ascent, we were amply recompensedwhen we stood upon the smooth rock which crowned its summit, where themerry picnicers pause amid their pastimes, absorbed in the sublimity oftheir surroundings, for while they are basking in the soft sunlight thesound of the distant thundering and lightning in the mountain topsrecalls the story of Sinai, where the multitude below stood silent andbreathless, and from the roar of Heaven's artillery above issued thewritten tables of stone. From this our lofty site the clear ether of the intervening fourteen milesrevealed the city of Denver looming up like a lonely vision. Turning toward the "Gold Centres, " whose wealth, if the half were told, would seem as fabulous as an "Arabian Nights Story, " we visited "CentralCity" and "Black Hawk, ", which are so close together that it has beenfacetiously said "It is impossible for a citizen to tell where he liveswithout going out doors and looking at some landmark. " These two places are really built upon foundations of gold, and many ofthe houses constructed of gold-bearing quartz. The depot at Black Hawk might justly be denominated "Porter's Folly, " forthis magnificent structure was built by a reckless miner for aquartz-mill, at an expenditure of one hundred thousand dollars, and theminer was General Fitz John Porter. At Central City we stopped at the Teller House, and received markedkindness from Mr. Bush, the proprietor. Mr. Rhodes, editor of the dailypaper, aided me greatly in his well-written notices, and invited us todine at his house, where we were delightfully entertained by himself andhis accomplished wife. We crossed the country by stage to Idaho Springs, over a region not onlygrand and diversified in scenery, but rich in mineral wealth, the roadwinding through intricate mountain heights and wild cañons. The springsare the chief resort of this portion of Colorado, and, aside from theirwildly beautiful surroundings, furnish great facilities for theexhilarating hot soda baths and swimming bath-houses, in which elegantlycostumed bathers of both sexes hold high carnival. The hotel was quite romantically situated near a meandering creek, whichmurmured by its side and made my pleasant room upon the ground floormusical with its rippling flow. Days of dreamy beauty, and nights ofcool, invigorating rest, render this a watering place of remarkableattraction. Georgetown stands next in size to Denver, and is an outgrowth of the richmining wealth with which it is environed. Indeed, it seemed as if somegeni had touched all around it with a magic wand. Silver-ore was strewn inrich profusion, piled like cord-wood in huge masses at every step; wastalked of in the street, the hotel, and the home, until it seemed as if wethought, ate, and breathed silver. At the beautiful town of Boulder we stopped at the prominent and luxurioushotel known as the American House, and after a short stay took the stagefor Caribon, then the most elevated town in the State, standingconsiderably over nine thousand feet above the sea-level. A romantic andever-ascending ride of a day's length was required to reach this eyrie, and at noon-day the driver allowed us to stop for our dinner, when ourwayside inn was improvized from the sheltering shade of grand old trees, our table a rock, our chairs the same. No ambrosia could have been sweeter to the gods than was our sylvanfeast, with the appetite induced by mountain air and exercise; no nectarfiner than the crystal draught, dipped from the little stream; noorchestra more musical than its varied tones. Although it was yetSeptember, there was a severe snow-storm, and, the next day, when it hadsubsided, a party went out to pick raspberries, which were sweet anddelicious in flavor, while beside the deep snow-banks bloomed flowers asbeautiful as the rarest exotics. Ladies are so vigorous in that country that they think nothing of a walkof many miles, but the intensely rarefied air of the mountains made my ownrespiration very difficult. We returned to Denver, where our few days' visit was all too short, for itwas with painful reluctance we yielded to the demands of businessinterest, and left a city which to us was fraught with so much pleasure, and went to Colorado Springs, a place of five thousand inhabitants, andone of the most stirring towns in the State. It is very level, beingsymmetrically laid out in broad and shaded streets, and derives its namefrom the fact of being the station from which tourists take the stage forthe springs at Manitou, six miles distant. It is also the point from whichpleasure parties daily leave for Pike's Peak. One of the main features of interest in our visit to Colorado Springs, wasthe presence of the great "Man of the Period, " over whom the stupendousheart of Barnum throbbed with exultant pride, and scientists waxedwondering and eloquent. This august personage, who was no other than thesince sensational "Stone Man of Colorado, " was lying in state, in all themajesty of his marbleized grandeur, and was the magnet toward whichthrongs of wonder-seekers were irresistibly drawn, all of whom, as ifentering the presence chamber of the King of Terrors, seemed awed by thissilent "representative of the dead past, " and with hushed voices and batedbreath, lingered over the lineaments of one, which, if it had been knownat that time was not a real petrifaction, would perhaps have excited onlyfeelings of ridicule and words of derision. We were willing to behumbugged with the rest for the sacred emotions experienced under thesilent potency of this phenomenon of the nineteenth century; nor can weeven in the light of subsequent revelations deny the fact that he was"fearfully and wonderfully made. " We next visited Pueblo, where this giant was exhumed, but were not at allpleased with the town or its surroundings, and suffered greatly fromthirst rather than drink the offensive water for which the residents areso heavily taxed. It was so apparently poisonous in odor, that if it hadbeen in the malarious climate of Chicago, instead of the exhilaratingatmosphere of Colorado, all would have died from its effects. We have never visited a State which held such diversified interest as thatof Colorado, a fitting resort for the invalid, the pleasure seeker, artist, scientist or poet. No place but some haunt of the Muses couldboast the ethereal beauty of a "Glen Eyrie, " and no wonder the "Garden ofthe Gods" is supposed to have once been the abode of "Great Jove himself, "and that there fair Venus bathed her beauteous form, and girdled with thefabled "Cestus, " held her court amid the immortal beauties of the sacredspot. We came through Kansas via the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad, meeting with no better success than that which marked our former trip inthat region of country, and could only conclude, that while their cropswere at that time large and lucrative, the grasshopper raid had taughtthem a lesson of economy which they were rigidly observing. Before returning home we visited the only surviving sister of my mother, who lived in Salsbury, Missouri, and who not having heard from me sincethe Chicago fire, concluded that I might have perished in its flames. Sheand her husband were both over seventy years old, and strange to say, werelike so many of the old people I have met in my travels, that my readersmight suppose my heroes and heroines had found the "fabled fountain" andsecured immortal youth. Be this as it may, it could certainly be said ofher husband, as of the father of Evangeline: "Stalwart and stately of form Was the man of seventy summers; Hearty and hale was he As an oak that is covered with snow-flakes. " I had a delightful visit of two days with this aged couple, during whichmy aunt rehearsed to me many incidents in the early life of my mother, andpresented me with a lock of her hair, which, as a memento, is evermagnetically associated with the "loved ones gone before. " Returning to Chicago, I found my husband, whose health was far worse thanwhen I saw him in Galveston. This, together with a combination ofsurrounding circumstances, suggested the project of writing up "The Worldas I have found it, " and I spent the greater part of the winter of 1877-8in this work. If it should appear to my friends and readers, that I found only the"sunny side" of life, and they should wonder why I so seldom saw theshadow, or received the thrust of unkindness, I can simply say that I wasalmost universally so well received, that the few cases of unkindtreatment became the exception and not the rule, and these were generallyso bitterly repented, and so amply amended, that I felt it would be anact of ingratitude to note them in my experiences. Hoping that these last missives to my kind and noble patrons will be aswell received as was the first humble effort of my girlhood--"Incidents inthe Life of a Blind Girl, " I can only add in conclusion, that if any oneof the patient followers of my wanderings has found aught of sufficientinterest to while away the tedium of an otherwise weary hour, or gleanedfrom the dross a single "golden grain, " I will be amply recompensed. HELP THE BLIND TO HELP THEMSELVES. Throughout the entire length my unpretending offering my aim has been, asfar as was compatible with a personal history, to make my pagesinteresting to the general public, but I cannot close without addressingsome especial words to those, who, like myself, must be content to livewith vision veiled from the world's transcendant beauties, and whoselife-paths from a variety of causes seem ofttimes utterly rayless. Blindness has been universally regarded as one of the most terribleafflictions of an adverse fate, nor can it be denied that it is one whichrequires a great amount of grace, and all the reason and judgment one cancommand, to bear the burden with any degree of patience, much less withperfect resignation. It is so often the result of impaired health, while the severe test ofmaltreatment or even the most skillful treatment, tends to deplete thesystem and depress the spirits. Again, the blind are in the majority of cases the children of poorparents, and subject to all the neglect and exposure incident to poverty, while, if they are born in affluence, they are so petted and pampered, inconsequence of their affliction, that they become utterly dependent anduseless, and contract habits that should be and which under othercircumstances would be broken. It is no more necessary for a blind child, with proper instruction andcareful training, to become awkward and ungainly, than for one in fullpossession of all the senses, the drawback of blindness simply demanding alittle more patience and perseverance to attain the ease and grace, whichis as inevitable as in other children. In all the category of first instructions for the period of childhood, from the muscular education by which a babe is taught to take its firsttottering step or the voluntary movement necessary to grasp and hold anobject, to the lisping language of love intoned in the first sweetprattle, the all-pervading spirit, from the first to the last lesson, isthat of self-reliance. While blind children of wealth are waited uponuntil they become utterly incapable of helping themselves, and through amistaken kindness are so constantly ministered to, they lapse intopassive, pantomimic puppets, void of the vitality and sparkle which, bytheir natural endowments, is attainable. I have made it a guiding rule, throughout my life, never to consider therewas anything which, with the proper effort, I could not do, and myexperience proves a confirmation of the fact that there were very fewthings I could not accomplish. I would fain impress this lesson upon myblind friends, feeling as I do that it would prove of untold service tothem. It is not at all necessary that the blind should so lose their dignity orindividuality, as to allow themselves to be addressed in word or tone atall different from that directed to other people, and, as an illustrationof this point, I may be pardoned for relating an incident of my schoollife. A gentleman once called at our Institution in Baltimore, and, immediatelyafter his introduction to a group of blind girls, of which I was one, hesaid: "Ladies, how would you manage to select a husband?" Flaming with indignation, I impulsively replied: "Sir! We do not deal insuch merchandise?" and smarting with a sense of the indignity, Iimmediately left his presence. I was afterward called to account by our worthy Superintendent to whom theperson in question preferred a complaint of rude treatment. Beggingpermission to explain the situation, I respectfully enquired of ourofficial in case this same gentleman were thrown for the first time in thepresence of an equal number of society ladies, who could see if it wouldbe possible for him to address a similar remark to them, without beingcharged with rudeness and presumption, or if it were not even questionablewhether he would dare to address them in such a way at all--and we, although blind, felt that we had the right to demand the same deferenceand respect. It is almost needless to say that I was fully exonerated fromall blame, and honorably discharged from the presence of my interrogator. In the course of my travels I am ofttimes asked if I desire my meals sentto my room, presupposing, as would be naturally inferred, the possibilityof great awkwardness in my manner of eating; hence I invariably declinethis offer of privacy, as there need be nothing in our manner of eating atall _outre_ or disagreeable. It is of course necessary to have a graceful attendant, and my first greatcare is to instruct my guide in all the phases of table ministration, which are more varied and important than is discernible to those who cansee. I also take great pains to instruct them in the art of walking with meproperly; never allowing them to _tell_ me how to proceed, but to give mea tacit understanding _of_ their movements in order to direct my own, andthis system in my own experience has been reduced to a science. Many persons feel that it is far more sad and terrible to have oncepossessed sight, and afterward to become blind, than never to have seen atall, but I cannot agree with them, and will never cease to be gratefulthat until I was twelve years old, I could grasp, through sight, theunfolding beauties of nature and art, which are now so often reproducedthat I can see all the manifold loveliness spread out before me, and for aseason forget that I am blind. Those who are born in blindness, are, to agreat extent, denied this pleasure, for it is almost impossible throughthe imagination to form any adequate conception of "things seen. " One of the most deplorable results of blindness is the fact that so manyof its victims condescend to the degradation of beggary, thus bringingdisgrace upon those who try to make an honorable living. I once hadoccasion to go into a prominent Express Office of Chicago upon importantbusiness of my own. The agent discovering that I was blind, and in evidentanticipation of a draught upon his pocket, resorted to it and drew outfifty cents. After learning my business he manifested considerableembarrassment, and as slyly as possible deposited his money in itsoriginal place, and no doubt hoped the movement was not observed. Thus itso often becomes as apparent to us as to others, that the majority ofpeople jump at the conclusion, that if one is blind, they must ofnecessity resort to begging, and I deeply regret that so many establishthis belief by their conduct. It has been to me a serious source of annoyance that so large a number ofpersons endeavor to impress upon my mind the idea that it is an act ofcharity to patronize me to the extent of the purchase of a single book, while just after me a strong man, with faculties unimpaired, a man amplyable to do other work, may enter, and they buy from him anything he mayhave to sell without ever dreaming that it is a charity to do so. But I am truly grateful to the majority of those with whom I come inbusiness contact for their appreciation of my energy and enterprise, asthey almost invariably consider mine a laudable way of making a living. A great many blind persons offer as an excuse for inactivity that theyhave no capital to do with, but even this obstacle may be removed, as isso often the case with impediments in the paths of those who see. In Marysville, California, I became acquainted with a gentleman who losthis sight in middle life, and exhausted all his means upon oculists andother measures intended to restore his eyes. Finding the case hopeless, and having a family dependent upon him for support, instead of sittingdown in despair or resorting to begging, he went to a friend and borrowedtwo dollars and a half. With this he bought a basket, filled it with fruitand went out to sell it. This basket became the nucleus of an extensivebusiness for some years after, and, at the time I met him, he was a highlyrespected citizen, possessing a comfortable home and a considerable bankaccount, though still holding a large fruit-stand as a permanent resource. Another instance could be cited in the case of a young man of the sameState who became suddenly blind, when some friend told him he had bettergo to San Francisco and hold out his hat, "for he would certainly dowell. " Wounded to the quick at such advice, he replied that, in case heaccepted such a suggestion, he would solicit enough to buy a dose ofstrychnine and close out his business. Soon after an artist made him aproposition to travel for the sale of chromos in the interest of agallery. He accepted it, and by that means soon became successful andindependent. We do not feel it necessary to work for the sympathy of the public, for weare already conscious of having that; but we do sincerely desire theirrespect, and, if freely extended, their patronage, as do any other classof people plying a legitimate vocation. Among the throng with whom. I have come in contact in the course ofcanvassing, the vexed question, paramount in the minds of the majority, and one frequently addressed to me in person. It is: why I do not availmyself of an Institution for the Blind, or--as they almost universally dubit--an Asylum in which I will be taken care of for life, almostinvariably adding that they are taxed for this purpose. I desire here to correct an impression which, in the main, is utterlyfalse. These institutions are (together with others) supported by theStates in which they are located, and in so far as every property holderhas a larger or smaller amount of State tax, they help to sustain theInstitutions for the Blind among others. These State institutions areintended only for the education of the blind, and not for their support. For the purpose of education there are a certain number of years allottedto each pupil, according to their age at the time of admission. At theexpiration of this term they have no alternative but to go back to thepoor homes of their respective counties, more unfitted to endure theirprivations than before they were permitted a taste of a better mode oflife, and no matter how sad their sacrifices, or how bitter their trials, they are never looked after by the Institutions in which they graduate. In their new life, however high may be their excellence in music or anyother accomplishment, or how great their effort to make them available, their surroundings are all against them, consequently they lapse into acondition even worse than before their education, because theirenlightenment renders them more keenly sensitive to their affliction. But I am thankful there are so many who have courage to rise above allthese obstacles, and, with a heroism known only to those who have passedthrough the crucible, to become noble men and women. Another question so often arising is, can the blind distinguish colors bythe sense of feeling? To this my invariable answer has been, "I believe itto be an impossibility. " Many insist upon the point that it is not onlypossible, but that they can substantiate it as a fact--having seen it withtheir own eyes. This I have, of course, no right to dispute, but in illustration of thepoint in question, and in proof that one can be mistaken therein, I willcite an incident that occurred in the Baltimore Institution. Three gentlemen visitors to that place having completed their inspection, were about taking leave, when they were attracted by "little Joe, " abright, intelligent boy pupil, and immediately asked him if he coulddistinguish colors in the above-mentioned way. The quick-witted littlefellow assumed the serene dignity of a sage and calmly answered, "Ofcourse I can, " whereupon the gentlemen stood in a row and offered Joe thetempting bait of one dollar if he would tell each one the color of hispants. Two of them were dressed in broad cloth, and the other in a coarse, grey suit. The boy naturally inferred that the smooth, textured fabric wasbroad cloth, and would most probably be black, and being aware of the thenprevailing style of grey business-suits, he, with great ease, hit thetruth exactly. They freely gave the promised dollar, and left fully satisfied that he didit by the sense of touch. As soon as the door was closed, the mischievousurchin exclaimed, "Golly, boys, suppose I hadn't guessed right?" Upon this matter I can only say in conclusion, that I have met during mylife many blind persons, and have made this question an especial study, while not one instance has come under my observation in which the blindcould distinguish colors by touch. By a systematic method of arrangement, association, etc, as well as through a remarkable recollection of certaindistinguishing characteristics in objects around us, we attain to thatwhich serves us much the same purpose as distinction of color. Indeed, inthis, as in all things, the blind must, of necessity, be very methodicalin everything they undertake to do. I sincerely hope that in my heterogeneous and apparently random remarks, Imay have uttered some word of comfort to the blind, some hint which maytruly aid them, some sentiment which may sustain, for my heart goes out tothem in the sympathy of a common affliction. "SIGHT OF THE BLIND. " Since closing my preceding article I have received from the author, who isone of the most distinguished blind writers, an essay Which I take greatpleasure in introducing below, not only because of its eminent source, but from its confirmation of some of the points I have attempted toillustrate, and which, together with many original and suggestivethoughts, are given with the plenitude and the power of eloquentrendition. "HOW DO THE BLIND SEE?" BY L. V. HALL. This may be regarded by some as a paradoxical question; and yet it is not, if we accept the word see, in its fullest and broadest sense. Websterdefines the verb see, as follows: "To perceive by mental vision; to forman adequate conception of; to discern; to distinguish; to understand; tocomprehend. " True, we do not see through the same medium that you do, whohave perfect organs of sight, but we certainly perceive and comprehend therelation and condition of things about us. The Creator has so wisely made, and beautifully adjusted the external organs of sense, one to another, andeach to all, that when one is lacking the others are made able, by greaterexercise, to perform the functions of the missing one. For example, ifone loses his hearing, sight is rendered keener, and the nerves acquire asensitiveness almost painful. Dr. Kitto, who was deaf from twelve years ofage, speaks of this peculiar sensitiveness as follows: "The drawing offurniture, as tables or chairs, over the floor, above or below me, theshutting of doors, and the feet of children at play, distress me far morethan the same cause would do if I were in actual possession of my hearing. "By being unattended by any circumstances or preliminaries, they startledreadfully; and by the vibration being diffused from the feet over thewhole body, they shake the whole nervous system in a way which even longuse has not enabled me to bear. " In the same interesting article on percussion, he says: "A few days since, when I was seated with the back of my chair facing a chiffonier, the doorof this receptacle was opened by some one, and swung back so as to touchmy hair. The touch could not but have been slight, but to me theconcussion was dreadful, and almost made me scream with the surprise andpain; the sensation being very similar to that which a heavy person feelson touching the ground, when he has jumped from a higher place than heought. Even this concussion, to me so violent and distressing, had notbeen noticed by any one in the room but myself. " This physiological phenomenon is analagous to the sensation experienced bythe blind on approaching any tall or broad object. We feel their presencewhen we are several yards from them. I have sometimes been startled by thesudden impression produced by a lamp-post, or tree when in fact it was ayard or more from me. The sensation is somewhat like receiving a smartblow in the face. I am frequently aware of passing a building while ridingalong a country road, and the proximity of trees, fences and other objectsis quite perceptible. This is not a latent sense, developed by circumstances, as some havesupposed, but a wonderful acuteness of the nerves of the face, and moreparticularly of the nerves of the eye-lids. These phenomena may, I think, be explained in this way. When one of the superior senses is absent, theperceptive force that has watched at the eye, or listened at the ear, isnow transferred to other nerves of sensation. In other words, a deafperson is all eyes, and extremely alive to tangible percussions, as willbe seen in the case of Dr. Kitto and others. The blind are all ears andfingers, and certain of the inferior animals are all ears and heels; I amnot sure but there is some neck in both cases. Since it has been shownthat new perceptions and conditions have been developed in the absence ofone or more of the superior senses, that the deaf are so keenly cognizantof vibration or jar, which is the father of sound; that the blind can feelthe presence of objects at short distances, which is analogous to sight, it should not be thought strange that we make such frequent use of theword _see_, or that the deaf should make use of the word _hear_, and thatthese words are not without significance or import. Besides this there isa mental perception (doubtless through a magnetic medium, ) of the presenceor nearness of other minds. This accords with the experience of manypersons. I have frequently entered rooms that I supposed to beunoccupied, judging from the silence that reigned, but on taking aninventory of my feelings I found a consciousness of some one's presence, and this I have done when not the slightest sound aroused my suspicions. A little incident that occurred while I was a teacher in the New YorkInstitution for the Blind will, perhaps, better illustrate this point. I called one evening at the matron's room to ask her to read a letterwhich had just been handed me. Supposing it to be a confidential one, andwishing to make sure that no one else was in the room, I enquired of thematron if she was alone. On receiving an affirmative answer, I handed herthe letter, requesting her to read it. But, feeling a consciousness thatsome other mind was present--a strange mind, with which I had nosympathy--I walked round to the other end of the table and placed my handon a lady's shoulder, remarking to the matron that I felt sure there wassome one in the room beside herself, and asked that the letter might bereturned to me unopened. From the long experience of this perception, or intuition, has grown theold adage, "The devil is always near at hand when you are talking abouthim. " I am not sure that this magnetic condition is more largely developedin us than in those who see, but I am led to think it is for this reason, eyes are of paramount importance to those who have them, and we who havethem not search for other media of communication. Mental presence iseither inspiring and assuring, or depressing and embarrassing. I haveobserved that when in the presence of some people I have felt comfortableand assured, while in the presence of others I have felt diffident anduneasy, I allude here to persons with whom I had no previous acquaintance. Minds are felt in a ratio proportionate to their will-power. Shallow, conceited minds are not magnetic. I have been told by blind preachers, public lecturers and concert singers, that they always feel the differencebetween an intelligent and appreciative audience and one made up of coarseand uncultured people, and this consciousness they have felt before anydemonstrations of applause or disapprobation were made. I have had manyopportunities to experiment on my own feelings in relation to thismagnetic influence or mental recognition. I was a concert singer in myyounger days and could always tell whether I was singing to a large orsmall house, and whether my audience was in sympathy with me or not. If it is argued that I gained this knowledge through the ear, and notthrough the magnetic medium that I suppose to exist, I will add otherexperiences that will be more convincing to the reader. In pursuing my business as itinerant book-seller for many years, I havefrequently called at offices when their occupants were out, and onentering have often said to my guide, "Oh, there is no one here, let usgo, and call again. " On the other hand I have often been conscious whenentering a room that there was not only one mind but several mindspresent. If I should be asked to describe this consciousness, or mentalrecognition, I should not know what language to employ. These are some ofthe compensations which the blind receive for the great loss they havesustained. The sense of smell is ranked as the least important of all thesenses, yet it is of great value to the blind. Through this avenue to themind come many pleasurable sensations. By it we are aided in the selectionof our food, in choosing ripe and healthful fruits, in detectingdecomposition, dirt and filth, and in ascertaining much that eyes discoverto those who have them. Without it flowers would have no attraction forus, and life would lack many of its pleasures. At the risk of beingclassed among dogs and vultures. I acknowledge that I am often guided bymy olfactories in doing things that seem so very unaccountable to myfriends. In passing along the business streets my attention is continuallyattracted by the odors that issue from stores, shops, saloons, etc. , andthese peculiar smells often direct me to the very place I wish to find. From groceries come the odors of spices, fish, soaps, etc. From clothingand dry goods stores the smell of dye-stuffs. From drugs and medicines, the combined odor of many thousand volatile substances, such as perfumes, paints, and oils, asafaoetida, etc. From shoe stores comes the smell ofleather; and from books and stationery the smell of printer's ink. Hotels, saloons and liquor stores, emit that unmistakable odor of alcohol, theprince of poisons. To me the smell of alcohol, wines, etc. , has always, since my earliest recollection, been grateful and fascinating; and had Icultivated an appetite for strong drink, it would be as difficult for meto pass a liquor saloon as for a man whose eyes are tempted by amagnificent display of mirrors and bottles. I have often been made awareof open cellar doors by a damp, musty smell that commonly proceeds fromunderground rooms, and have, I think, been saved from falling by this oddwarning. I should have fallen, however, only a few days ago, into one ofthese yawning horrors had it not been for my ever watchful wife who wasprovidentially near and called to me in time to save me from injury. Someworkmen were laying a patch of side-walk on Main street, in the town inwhich I reside, and had opened a cellar-way near which some of them wereat work, but did not warn me, doubtless because they did not see me, forworkmen are always very kind to me. I am guided and governed more by the ear, however, than by either of theother organs of sense. If I wish to cross the street it tells me whenteams are coming, how far they are away, at what rate of speed they aretraveling, and when it will be safe to cross. If I find a group of menconversing, it tells me who they are. If I wish to enter a store, or anyplace, it tells me where the door is, if open, by the sounds that issuetherefrom, but in this I have sometimes been misled by going to an openwindow, which always makes me feel awkward. Sound to me is as important aslight is to the seeing, and brings to the mind a great many facts that aregathered through the eyes when sight is made the prime sense. Much of my information, however, is received through the fingers. They areproperly the organs of touch. Although this sense is distributed over thewhole body, even to the mucous membrane that lines the mouth and coversthe tongue. When the finger's ends have been hardened by labor, or fromany cause, the lips and tongue are the most sensitive, and are often usedin threading needles, stringing beads, etc, very innocent uses surely toput the tongue to. This sense of touch is of _necessity_ cultivated by theblind until it often reaches a state of perfection seldom, if ever, foundin the seeing. Of course its development is gradual, as is the growth ofall the faculties. When I was quite a little child, and my fingers weresoft, I could readily distinguish all the variety of flowers that grew inmy sister's flower garden, and could call them by name. From touch I knewall the common fruits, from the peach with its velvet skin, to thestrawberry in the meadow, for which I used to search diligently with myfingers, and sometimes find, as I remember, thistles, which were neverquite to my taste. One thing among my childish sports and amusements, forthey were limited, always gave great pleasure; and does even now. I lovedto play along the brook or lake shore, to feel for smooth and odd shapedstones, for pretty shells, etc. Their beauty to me existed only in thegreat variety of shapes they presented, and in their smooth, pearlysurfaces, as they never suggested to my mind any idea of color. Winterafforded me few opportunities for cultivating my love for the beautiful. Summer was my heaven, with its singing birds, its tinkling brooks and itsfresh and delicious fruits. I took great pleasure in examining, with my fingers, flowers, leaves andgrasses, because their great variety of shape and texture fed an innatelonging after something that I could not then comprehend. When but an infant, I am told nothing amused me so well as a branch ofgreen leaves. My early boyhood was spent in rambling through the woods, hunting nuts, squirrels, chipmunks, etc. , with other boys of my own age, in climbingtrees, digging for wood-chucks, skating, coasting, and in performing allthe feats common to boyhood, such as standing on my head, hopping, jumping, whistling, shouting, &c. I shall regret to have this page comeunder the eyes of my boys, for in noisy mischief they already exceed mymost sanguine expectations, and need not a record of their father'sboisterous childhood to encourage them. This kind of life, however, has fitted me to enter upon a systematiccourse of study, which I did at the age of sixteen. I was received as apupil of the New York Institution for the Blind in 1844. I entered in agood, healthy condition of body and mind. Found there boys and girls likemyself, without sight, yet earnestly engaged in pursuing the variousbranches of English education. Many of them were like myself, full oflife, fond of fun and mischief. Many laughable incidents and anecdotescharacteristic of such an institution are fresh in my memory, which, Ishould be pleased to relate, did they illustrate the subject in hand. HereI found sight, which I had always supposed so necessary, somewhat at adiscount. I discovered that books, slates, maps, globes, diagrams, &c. , could be seen through the fingers, and that children could learn quite asrapidly in this way as with sight. I was not long, either, in discoveringthat the older pupils and graduates were intelligent, accomplished andrefined; that they were treated more as equals by the officers, and thatthey were trotted out to show off the merits of the institution, while weyoung blockheads were kept in the background. This, I think, did muchtoward inspiring me with ambition. My progress at first was slow, havingto learn how to use the appliances. My fingers must be trained, my memorydisciplined and my habits of inattention corrected. No effort was made, however, to take the mirthfulness out of me, and Idoubt if anything could have succeeded in this. My first introduction totangible literature was in placing my hand on a page of the Old Testamentin embossed print. At first I could feel nothing like letters or anyregular characters, only a roughness as though the paper had been badlywrinkled. A card was then placed in my hand on which the alphabet wasprinted in very large type, and my attention called to each letter. Myfingers, then soft and supple, were not long in tracing the outlines ofeach character, and, my memory being naturally retentive, I was soon ableto distinguish each letter, and give its name as my finger was placed onit. Another card was then given me in smaller type, which I mastered inthe same way, and so on till I could read our smallest print. I have been thus minute in describing the rudimentary process of fingertraining, that my readers may understand how it is possible for thefingers to be made useful to the blind. To show how quick is theperception through this avenue to the mind, it should be known that wecannot feel a whole word at once, but a single letter. And yet some of usare able to read more than a hundred words per minute, and to trace onraised maps boundary lines, rivers, mountain chains, lakes, straits, gulfs, bays, to find the location of towns, islands, &c. It would seem that the fingers are capable of grasping almost everythingthat the eye embraces, though of course more slowly, and from thewonderful acuteness of which they are susceptible has grown the popularimpression that the blind can feel colors. I have been asked this questionmany thousand times, and have invariably replied that we can no more feelcolors than the deaf can see sounds or the dumb sing psalms. I am awarethat it is stated by some eminent writers that the sense of touch in somepersons has reached this perfection, but I have many reasons to doubt it. I have no personal object in contradicting this statement, other than tocorrect a popular error. Should be glad if it were true. It has beenaccounted for by scientific men upon this hypothesis: that colors differin temperature, that red is warmer than yellow, and yellow warmer thangreen, and so on through the spectrum. That violet is a cold color as itsrays are less refracted, that these differences are appreciable todelicate fingers. I have tried many experiments both with my own fingersand with persons at our several institutions, who, like myself, were bornwithout sight, and, have never yet found one who could form the faintestidea of colors from impressions received through the fingers. Indeedthere is nothing in tangible qualities that suggests color, exceptdifferences in texture. We may feel that a piece of broad-cloth has aharsh texture, and call it black, or a soft texture, and call it drab orbrown. In this we may guess right, for it is only a guess after all. Woolbuyers and dealers in cloth judge frequently of their quality by touch;and it is true that we who are without sight come to be very expert injudging of the quality of cloths, furs, &c. But, to one who has never seenlight, there is no suggestion of color through finger perception. Between sound and color there is a much closer analogy traceable, as bothare the result of vibration. The same language is used to express thequalities of each. We talk of harmony in sounds and harmony in colors, of lights and shades, of chromatics, blending, softness, sweetness, harshness, high, low, bright, dull, &c. May not a grand anthem or chorus be to the mind of one who has never seenthe light, what a fine picture is to one who has never heard sounds. Ishould not be surprised to hear that some blind Yankee or Frenchman hasinvented a telephone through which we can hear in the rippling brooks andbubbling fountains the color of their waters, in the song of birds thegorgeous tints of their plumage, and in the distant roar of Niagara, themighty grandeur of its scenery. To an imaginative mind a well tuned, wellvoiced organ may be made to represent all the colors of the rainbow, fromthe faintest violet of the piccolo to the darkest crimson of the sub-bass. Some blind person on being asked what he supposed red to be like, answered"Like the sound of a trumpet. " He might have said "Like a flame of fire. "I once asked a blind boy, who had never seen light, if he could imagine ahouse on fire and how he supposed it would look. He answered, "If it was abig fire it would look like a thousand trumpets all blowing in a differentkey. " I then asked him what a picture is like. "Like anything in _shape_you may wish to paint, " he said, "but in color (if it is a fine picture)like one of Mozart's grand symphonies. " I have many times asked my blindlady friends how they knew in what way to arrange their colors so as tomake their fancy work look tasty and attractive. How they knew what colorsblended and what were discordant, and I have often received this answer:"By associating the names of the seven primary colors with the sevensounds of the diatonic scale, placing red as No. 1 or key note, orangenext, yellow next, then green, and so on to violet. Thus red will notblend with orange, being the first and second of the scale, but red andyellow harmonize better, being third in the scale, red and green stillbetter, and so on to red and deep violet, which are sevenths in the scaleand do not harmonize. Thus we get the tetrachord red, yellow, blue andviolet, which may be represented by the flat seventh of the chord C. " ButI leave this theory for some one to elaborate or refute, who has seencolor, and return to my institution life. The ear and voice are also trained at these schools for the blind, andmusic is made one of the chief arts. Piano tuning is also taught in apractical way. If this business is not taught in all the institutions, itought to be, for it comes fairly within the scope of our capabilities. AndI will here say for the benefit of my brothers in the dark that I havebeen very successful as a piano tuner, and the business is a practical onefor the blind. Any one with a good ear may learn to tune well, but no oneshould undertake to repair so delicate a piece of machinery as a pianoaction without long experience, mechanical ingenuity, great caution andgood judgment, having had no opportunity to acquire the requisite skill. It was not my intention at the outset to write a sketch of my own life, but to demonstrate by my own experience that the inferior senses may bemade to perform many of the offices of sight. The eyes have somefunctions, however, which the ears and fingers cannot perform. For example, if a piece of silk or woolen goods be handed me forexamination the nerves of my fingers will tell me whether it is fine orcoarse, whether it has a harsh or soft texture, whether it is highlyfinished or rough and uneven, but they bring me no intelligence of color. I may pronounce the goods beautiful, because I find in it certainqualities that address themselves to my taste, but it is not beautyaddressed to the eye. Light and color, to one who has never seen, is asinconceivable as music to the deaf. We may get some faint idea of whatlight is as a medium of communication, or why color pleases the eye asqualities of texture please the touch, but the conception is vague andunsatisfactory. I have often had the remark made to me, "Well, if you have never seen, itis not so bad after all, you have less desire to see. " This, I think, is amistake and a poor consolation. Has the man who has never visited thegreat Niagara cataract, but has many times heard and read of its wonders, less desire to see it than one who has witnessed those grand displays ofGod's power in the flood? Has the boy who loves to read of travels andstrange adventures less desire to see the glaciers of the Alps, the skiesof Italy or the jungles of Southern Africa, than the traveler whodescribed them? However well we may see with our mental vision, howeverwell suited to our taste may be our surroundings, however pleasant may beour family relations, and however kind may be our companions, we cannothelp that irrepressible desire to know what there is about light andcolor, about the indescribable beauty of a sunset, the splendor of anevening sky, the glory of a cloudless day, and the awful grandeur of astorm. There is yet one thing we greatly desire to know, which the fingerscannot grasp. We are told in poetry and romance that the human face divine is the indexof the spirit. That its ever changing lines express every mood of the mindand every emotion of the soul, from a smile of ineffable beauty to amidnight frown, from the sunshine of hope, and joy, and gladness, toclouds of wrath and hatred. That the spirit looks out through the eye andmelts you with a beam of tenderness, or pierces your heart with a flash ofelectric love, or charms you by revealing in its crystal depths the pearlof purity, or transfixes you with a glance of displeasure. Is all thistalk about sunlit faces and starlit eyes, fine sentiment only, or does theface really express feeling as unmistakably as we hear it in voices? Toshow that the deaf have as great a desire to hear the music of the humanvoice as we to see the language of the face, I quote from Dr. Kitto thefollowing touching passages of personal history: "Is there anything on earth so engaging to a parent as to catch the firstlispings of his infant's tongue, or so interesting as to listen to itsdear prattle, and trace its gradual mastery of speech? If there be any onething arising out of my condition, which, more than another, fills myheart with grief, it is _this_: it is to _see_ their blessed lips inmotion and to _hear_ them not, and to witness others moved to smiles andkisses by the sweet peculiarities of infantile speech which areincommunicable to me, and which pass by me like the idle wind. " Although there are but few experiments in common between the deaf and theblind, I am able to sympathize fully with this eminent deaf author in theintense desire he feels to hear the sweet voices of his children. Thereis no other object this side of heaven I so ardently wish to see as thefaces of my family. A feeling sometimes comes over me akin, I fancy, tothe impotent rage of a caged lion, who vainly tries to break his prisonbars and gain his liberty. The moral certainty that I must finally leavethis world of beauty without having enjoyed many of its highest blessingsand purest delights often oppresses--so oppresses me, that I can only findrelief in prayer for grace to say--"Thy will be done, O God. " I hear themerry voices of my children, know their step, figure, contour of theirheads and faces, and in my day dreams I see them around me, full of lifeand health, fun and frolic, and I know their little hearts are full oflove for me; I know, too, God has given them to me as some compensationfor other blessings he has withheld. Let me trust, then, in His greatmercy, that in the far future I may see the faces of my dear ones in thelight of eternity; of her who gave me birth, but whose fond look ofaffection and yearning tenderness I was never able to return; and theface of her who is now to me even more than a mother, who helps me to bearmy many burdens with Christian patience and fidelity. Then, if I ampermitted to behold the glorified face of Him who hath redeemed us, Ishall rejoice that I have lived and suffered, and wept and wept, andprayed that I might dwell with Him forever. INVOCATION TO LIGHT. BY MRS. HELEN ALDRICH DE KROYFT. Oh, holy light! thou art old as the look of God and eternal as God. Thearchangels were rocked in thy lap, and their infant smiles were brightenedby thee! Creation is in thy memory. By thy touch the throne of Jehovah wasset, and thy hand burnished the myriad stars that glitter in His crown. Worlds, new from His omnipotent hand, were sprinkled with beams from thybaptismal font. At thy golden urn pale Luna comes to fill her silver horn, and rounding thereat Saturn bathes his sky girt rings, Jupiter lights hiswaning moons, and Venus dips her queenly robes anew. Thy fountains areshoreless as the ocean of heavenly love; thy centre is everywhere, andthy boundary no power has marked. Thy beams gild the illimitable fields ofspace, and gladden the farthest verge of the universe. The glories of theSeventh Heaven are open to thy gaze, and thy glare is felt in the woes ofthe lowest Erebus. The sealed books of heaven by thee are read, and thineeyes like the Infinite can pierce the dark veil of the future, and glancebackward through the mystic cycle of the past. Thy touch gives the lily its whiteness, the rose its tint, and thykindling ray makes the diamond's light. Thy beams are mighty as the powerthat binds the spheres. Thou canst change the sleety winds to soothingzephyrs, and thou canst melt the icy mountains of the poles to gentlerains and dewy vapors. The granite rocks of the hills are upturned bythee, volcanoes burst, islands sink and rise, rivers roll and oceans swellat thy look of command. And oh! thou monarch of the skies, bend now thybow of millioned arrows, and pierce, if thou canst, this darkness thatthrice twelve moons has bound me. Burst now thy emerald gates, O Morn, and let thy dawnings come! Mine eyesroll in vain to find thee, and my soul is weary of this interminablegloom. The past comes back robed in a pall which makes all things dark. The present blotted out, and the future but a rayless, hopeless, lovelessnight of years, my heart is but the tomb of blighted hopes, and all themisery of feelings unemployed has settled on me. I am misfortune's childand sorrow long since marked me for her own. IS IT MORE TO LOSE THE EYES THAN THE EARS? (From Mrs. De Kroyft's forthcoming work, entitled "My Soul and I. ") Ah no! dark and empty and lonely as the world may be to us, no intelligentblind person could be found who would exchange hearing, and its attendantgift of speech, for a pair of the brightest eyes in the world; while, formyself, I have sometimes even wondered if, after all, it be, in thestrictest sense of the word, a misfortune _not to see_. All of our other senses are certainly not only immeasurably quickened, butis not our whole nature improved, and our immortal being greatly elevatedthrough this darkest of human privations? Just imagine for a moment a touch like Cynthia Bullock's, so exquisite asto feel with ease the notes, lines and spaces of ordinary printed music;then add to that a hearing that almost notes the budding of the flowers, and you will see how little one must possibly lack, even in the scale ofpleasurable existence, while perception in us becomes verily _a newsense_. Indeed, what shade of thought or feeling ever escapes us? Almostquicker than a thing has been uttered we have felt or perceived it. Whatmarvelous power, too, memory comes to possess, and how tenaciously sheclings to everything, often astonishing even to ourselves; whileimagination, that loftiest and most winged attribute of the soul, not onlybecomes more fleet, but literally turns creator, reproducing before ourspirit eyes not only all that we have lost, clothed in the beautifulideal, but unbars the gates to every new field of intellectual research, often enabling us to compete even more than successfully with those whosee. Alas! if there could be only a seat of learning for the blind, with allits lessons oral or in the form of lectures, as at most of the GermanUniversities, what could we not achieve? But, as it is, enough renowned have arisen from our ranks to prove that, while blindness fetters the hands and the feet, it verily adds wings to_thought_. Indeed, the world has but one Homer, who sits forever shroudedin darkness, _the veiled god_ and father of song; and but one Milton, whogave to the world its "Paradise Lost" and its "Paradise Regained, " whilehe bequeathed to the blind of all ages the glory and the beacon light ofhis name. EDUCATION OF THE BLIND. A brief description of the methods employed in their literary, artisticand industrial education. I should not consider this work finished without a chapter on the mode ofeducating those who have been so unfortunate as to be deprived of thereadiest medium through which education is imparted--the sight. Thesystems, although some of them are in use in nearly every State in theUnion, are very little understood, and are always inquired into with everyevidence of interest by visitors to the institutions, where they oftenexpress quite as much surprise as gratification at what they see. I havetherefore, in the following, endeavored to give as full a description aspossible of the various methods and appliances employed to convey throughthe sense of feeling, information to which our eyes are closed. On entering the schools the children are generally wholly uneducated, andhave first to be taught the form and value of letters. To effect this theletters are raised, and the pupil learns their form by passing the fingersover them till their forms, names and their use are fully understood. Withsome this is a long and tedious task, but others master it in a shorttime. I mastered the alphabet in one day, but I was not a child and had amind sharpened by experience. By constant exercise the sense of feelingbecomes so acute that very slight differences of form are readilydetected, and reading by the touch becomes an easily mastered art. Havingthus the key of knowledge the subsequent progress of the student is in hisown hands, and, to the credit of the afflicted, it must be said it isgenerally very rapid, one reason for which is that loss of sight shuts offone fruitful source of distraction, and the mind is more easilyconcentrated. Another reason is that the necessity for education isgenerally appreciated, and the student is eager to acquire it. The form and use of figures is taught in a similar manner, but theteaching of arithmetic is largely mental, on account of the difficulty ofproducing raised figures with sufficient rapidity, and the study of highermathematics is pursued even more strictly from oral teaching. The art of writing, which, to those not acquainted with the educating ofthe blind, is considered the most difficult task, becomes comparativelyeasy. It is a two-fold art, including the art of writing for blind readersand the ordinary Roman script. Of the "blind writing" there are severalsystems, but in this I shall be content to describe but two--the pin typeand the "New York Point System. " The first consists of movable types, theletters on which are formed of pin points, and with which the writerimpresses the paper one letter at a time, producing the letter raised onthe opposite side of the paper, which, on being reversed, may be read witheye or fingers. The point system is the arrangement and combination of sixdots on two lines. Those on the upper line are numbered 1, 3 and 5, andthose on the lower 2, 4 and 6. These are made within spaces aboutthree-sixteenths of an inch square each, by a styles which resembles asmall, dull awl or centre punch. To prevent the dots being confused thewriter uses a writing board, to which the paper is clamped by a metallicguide-rule perforated with two or more rows of these squares. The pupilsmake these punctured letters with great precision and rapidity, andfrequently conduct their correspondence with their friends by that means, giving them the alphabet and key by which to learn to read them. The writing of ordinary script is performed with more difficulty. Agrooved pasteboard is used for the purpose, the grooves being of the widthof the smaller letters. The letters extending above or below the line aregauged by the ridge. The right hand is followed close by the left, whichguards the written lines from a second tracing of the pencil, and marksthe spaces. By these methods correspondence is maintained between theblind and their distant friends, and it is even possible for a blindmerchant to keep his own books if necessary. In writing the common script the pencil is always used, the pen never. Care has to be taken to keep the pencil pointed, or much care and labormay be lost. An incident which Mr. Loughery, founder of the MarylandInstitution, used to relate of himself, shows how necessary it is toobserve great care in this matter. When a student he wrote a long, gossipyletter to a friend, and in a short time was surprised, and for the timegreatly annoyed, at receiving a reply asking him if he had gone mad. Itenclosed his own letter, and on examination of it the two words "Dear Ed. "were found to be its sole contents. In his absorbed condition of mind hehad not noticed the breaking of his pencil, and had proceeded with hiswriting, as the scratched paper, on which the traces of the wood of thepencil were visible, but not legible, indicated. The most interesting things seen in an Institution for the Blind are theapparatus for teaching geography, philosophy and physiology. Forgeography miniature continents, states, hemispheres, etc. , are used, inwhich, the political divisions, the physical conformation andcharacteristics, the rivers, lakes, seas, etc. , etc. , are reproduced asnearly as possible. The boundaries are described by rows of raised dots, the capital cities by studs of peculiar shape, the larger cities by studsdifferent in size or shape, the rivers by grooves in the surface, desertsby spaces being sanded on the surface, the lakes, seas, etc. , bydepressions, and the islands by spots elevated above the seas' surface. Mountain ranges are shown by raised models or miniature mountains, andthat volcanoes may be fully understood, separate models of these and ofother remarkable formations are used, that the student, by a thoroughmanual examination, may get a correct knowledge of them. In nearly everyschool I have visited there were maps, the sub-divisions of whichconsisted of movable blocks. Supported like a table, these maps would bestudied by the pupils taking out the blocks and returning them to theirplaces as they learned their names, etc. It is no uncommon thing to see apupil throw these blocks into a confused heap, mix them all up, and, thenpicking them up one by one, put each in its place with as much accuracy asthe most accomplished pianist will strike each key in a simple march orpolka. The philosophical apparatus consists of miniature machinery: the spring, the simple and compound lever, the wheel, the cog, the cam, etc. , even tothe miniature engine are brought into use, and the pupils examine them bythemselves, and in their various applications and relations to each other. In teaching those who never could see great difficulty is experienced inconveying the nature and properties of gases, vapors, etc. , but with thosewho have any recollection of what they have seen the task is comparativelyeasy. Where the apparatus is possessed the teaching of physiology and naturalhistory are comparatively easy, the pupil handling and examiningskeletons, skulls and models of the various parts of the human system, learning their various offices, etc. , but many schools do not possessthem, while others have fine collections including busts of eminent ornotorious personages, zoological collections, plaster models, etc. , bywhich the loss of sight is largely compensated for. Music is taught by raised notes until the rudiments are mastered. It formsa great part of the course in all the institutions, and is cultivated withgreat assiduity. When the rudiments have been mastered and the pupil isfamiliar with the instrument, the music is read to them, the notesindicated by names and value, and they memorize the music. So thoroughlydo many of the blind master the art that several are now, within myknowledge, successful teachers of the art to large numbers of seeingpupils. On the other hand much valuable time is wasted in the effort toteach music to those who have no talent for it, and whose time might bemore profitably employed in the pursuit of other studies. In the education of the blind the greatest care is given to thecultivation and strengthening of the memory and the success that is metwith is truly marvelous, for the amount and variety of knowledge withwhich some minds have been stored is to many almost incredible. The industrial education of the blind is perhaps the most important ofall, and all the institutions are provided with workshops, in which theinmates learn some useful mechanical or domestic art. The female pupilsare taught to make all kinds of ornamental bead-work, to crochet and knitwoolen and worsted goods, to sew by hand and with machines, and some ofthem acquire surprising skill, though my own experience does not give me ahigh opinion of the efficacy of attempting to teach sewing, so very fewever practice it after leaving school, though I have found it convenientto sew on a button or repair a rent on occasion. Sewing by the blind, though it may surprise the beholder for the skill acquired underdifficulties, will seldom claim their admiration for its own merit. I have more faith in the efficiency of the industrial education of theboys and men, because, in the course of my travels, I have found numbersof them prospering in the pursuit of the trades learned in theinstitutions, and some of them carrying on quite extensive operations. Boys are taught to make brooms, brushes, cane seats for chairs, mattresses, door mats, to weave carpets and do many other forms of usefulwork. It looks strange to be shown a brush in which black and coloredbristles are formed into lines of beauty--initials, flowers, etc. , and tobe told that a blind man made it. It looks like a miracle, but when youlearn that the forms were traced on the block by cutting grooves in itssurface to form the figures, and that the black bristles were kept in around box, and white ones in a square box, near the maker's hand, themystery disappears. Connected with the Philadelphia Institution are extensive manufactories, in which large numbers of workmen are employed. They are the largest inthe United States that are operated almost exclusively by the blind. Theseshops enable numbers of men to support themselves and their families indecency and comfort. The great interest manifested in the education and training of the blind, by thousands of noble people and earnest workers throughout the country, deserves the gratitude of not only those who suffer the great deprivation, but of the whole people; for the benefits they have conferred on us byeducating and rendering us useful and independent, rank in the scale ofbeneficence next to giving us sight. POEMS BY THE BLIND. I take the liberty of introducing a few poems by blind authors, feelingthat they will be appreciated by the public. Poetry seems to possesspeculiar charms for blind people, who, deprived of material sight, seem tolove to revel in the beautiful visions presented by the imagination. Amongblind poets and rhymesters there are, of course, as many different gradesof merit as among the more favored writers, but the proportion of doggerelwriters is fortunately much smaller among the blind, and they cannot soreadily inflict their scribbling in such volume on a patient public. Thepoems here presented are selected from among a number of the bestproductions of the best writers. LUCY A. LITTLE. I take great pleasure in introducing into these leaves the followingsimple poem from the pen of Miss Lucy A. Little, a young blind girl, toward whom I have been drawn by deep sympathy and affection. She waseducated in the Wisconsin Institution for the Blind, where she graduatedwith high honor. She possesses great personal attractions and much intrinsic merit, beingthe household pet in the home of her grand-parents; and, as the blind havemissions, it seems to have been especially hers to minister to those whoregard her with doting fondness, and to whom she is a bright prismaticray, making the shortening path of the old people radiant with, its light. A JUNE MORNING. Early one morn in leafy June, When brooks and birds were all in tune, A maiden left her quiet home In meadows and in fields to roam. She wandered on, in cheerful mood, Through verdant fields and leafy wood. At length she paused to rest awhile Upon a little rustic stile. She made a pretty picture there, With her bright, curling, golden hair, And dress of white, and eyes of blue, And ribbons of the self-same hue. And while she sat absorbed in thought, A form approached. She heeded not Until a hand was gently laid Upon the shoulders of the maid. Then, looking up in sweet surprise, She saw a pair of jet-black eyes, A perfect form of manly grace, A handsome, open, honest face. Then said the maid, in voice so clear: "How did you know that I was here?" Said he: "I sought you at your home, They told me you had hither come, And so, I came, this bright June day, To say what I've so longed to say. When first we met in by-gone days, You charmed me with your winning ways. Since then the time has quickly flown, Each day to me you've dearer grown, And you can brighten all my life If you will but become my wife. " She raised her eyes unto his own, And in their depths a new light shone, While in a voice so soft and low She said: "I _will_; it shall be so. " And then they homeward took their way, While birds were singing sweet and gay, Now oft they bless that day in June When brooks and birds were all atune. GOLD WORSHIPPERS. BY L. V. HALL. Within a faded volume, dim and old, I find this musty maxim tersely given: "The magic key to human hearts is gold, But love unlocks the crystal gates of heaven. " Our homes are not so happy as of old, Our hearts are not so merry as of yore, We find that nought can purchase love but gold, That virtue begs a pittance at the door. There was a time when Beauty bore the sway; There was a time when Wit the world controlled; There was a time when Valor won the day; But now the noble knight that wins, is Gold. The ancient Ghebers worshipped light and fire; The Brahmins bowed to gods of wood and stone; But now, 'neath marble dome and gilded spire, The deity adored is gold alone. It overlays the altar and the cross; It dignifies the monarch and the clown; The wealth of moral worth is counted dross; The million miser wears the golden crown. 'Tis time this mad idolatry should cease; 'Tis time her prophets and her priests were slain; Let earth do homage to the Prince of Peace, And the reign of gold shall be the golden reign. The Christ came not with pomp and princely show; His followers were lowly and despised; He courted not the high, nor shunned the low; A very God in human flesh disguised. He brought a marvelous message from above: A gift of grace and pardon from the King. He claimed no tithe or tribute but of love-- A penitent and contrite heart to bring. He banished brokers from the house of prayer; He raised the dead and made the dumb to speak; Unsealed the blinded eye, unstopped the ear; He fed the poor and lifted up the weak. The way to life, He said, is plain and straight, It leads to joy, and peace, and heavenly light The way to death is through a golden gate And broad the way that leads to endless night. Shall we accept the sacrifice he made And enter in the Shepherd's sheltering fold? Or, like the Judas who his Lord betrayed, Sell soul and hope of Heaven for miser's gold? Say, which is best, true piety or gold? This metal worship or the living God? Ye cannot have them both, so we are told, See to it then which pathway shall be trod. Array your idol in his robes of state! Set up his image on his golden throne! Throw open wide the temple's gilded gate, And thus proclaim that gold is God alone! Or else array yourselves in plain attire; Set up the love of Christ in every heart Let each affection feel its fervent fire, And in this money-worship bear no part. Now make your choice between your gold and heaven; Buy all the sinful pleasures wealth can bring; Increase them through the years to mortals given And die, at last--a beggar--not a king. Yes, make your choice between your gold and heaven; Find peace and pardon in a Saviour's blood; Freely bestow what, free to you, is given, And meet, at last, the welcoming smile of God. THE DOUBLE NIGHT. BY MORRISON HEADY, Of the Kentucky Institution for the Blind. _To the shades of Milton and Beethoven_. "Silence and Darkness, solemn sisters, twins From ancient Night, who nursed the tender thought To reason, and on reason build resolve-- That column--of true majesty in man-- Assist me--I will thank you in the grave. "-- _Night Thoughts_. DARKNESS. Go, bring the harp that once with dirges thrilled, But now hangs hushed in leaden slumbers, Save when the faltering hand untimely chilled Steals o'er its chords in broken numbers. It hangs in halls where shades of sorrow dwell, Where echoless Silence tolls the passing bell, Where shadowless Darkness weaves the shrouding spell Of parting joys and parting years. Go, bring it me, sweet friend, and ere we part, A lay I'll frame, so sad 'twill wring thy heart Of all its pity, all its tears As fitful shadows round me gather fast, And solemn watch my thoughts are holding, Comes Memory, Panoramist of the Past. The rising morn of life unfolding, Now fade from view all living toil and strife; Time past is now my present; death, my life; All that exists is obsolete; While o'er my soul there steals the pensive glow Of sainted joys that young years only know, And past scenes, looming dimly, rise and throw Their lengthening shadows at my feet. I see a morn domed in by pictured skies; The dew is on its budding pleasures, The gladsome, early, sunlight on it lies, And to it from this dark my pent soul flies, As misers nightly to their treasures. And, as I look, I see a glittering train, In airy throng, across the dreamlit plain, Come dancing, dancing from the tomb; Flitting in phantom silence on my sight; In silence, yet all beautiful and bright, The ghosts of joy, and hope, and bloom. But passed me by; their lines of fading light Tell of decay, of youth's and beauty's blight; Then, like spent meteors shimmering through the night, The vision melts in closing gloom. Another day in sable vesture clad, All drear with new blown pleasures blighted, Comes blindly groping through the twilight sad, As one in moonless mists benighted. O! Day unhappy! could oblivion roll Its slumberous billows o'er my shrinking soul, Thee scarce I could, e'en then, forget: A life, bereft of light, no memory need To tell of night that ne'er to morning leads, Of day that is forever set. From yonder sky the noonward sun was torn, Ere day dawn's rosy hues had banished; A starless midnight blotted out the morn, Ere childhood's dewy joys had vanished. No slow paced twilight ushered in the night; A spangled web, the Heavens were swept from sight; The full moon fled and never waned; And all of Earth that's beautiful and fair. Became as shadows in the empty air-- A boundless, blackened blank remained! I heard the gates of night, with sullen jar, Close on the cheerful day forever; Hope from my sky sank like the evening star, Which finds in darkness, zenith never, For scarce she knew, blithe offspring of the day, How there to shine, where night held boundless sway; And shapes of beauty, grace and bloom, And fair-formed joys that once around me danced, Bewildered grew, where sunbeams never glanced, And lost their way in that wide gloom. Pensylla, o'er me many sunless years Have flown, since last the beams of heaven, The soft ascent of morn through smiles and tears, The sweet descent of dreamy even-- Or sight of wood and fields in green arrayed, Vernal resplendence or Autumnal shade, Or Winter's gloom or Summer's blaze; Bird, beast or works that trophy man's abode, Or he divine, the image of his God, Met my rapt gaze. Look, gentle guide! Thou see'st the imperial sun Forth sending far his ambient glory, O'er laughing fields and frowning highlands dun, O'er glancing streams and woodlands hoary. In orient clouds he steeps his amber hair, With beams far slanting through the flaming air, Bids Earth, with all her hymning sound, declare The praise of everlasting light. On my bared head I felt his pitying ray, He loves to shine on my benighted way; But ah, Pensylla! he brings to me no day-- Nor yet his setting, deeper night. Prime gift of God, that veil'st His sovereign throne, And dost of Him in sense remind me-- Blest light of Heaven, why hast thou from me flown? To these sad shades, why hast resigned me? On pinions of surpassing beauty borne, When Nature hails the glad advance of morn, In thine unsullied loveliness. Thou com'st; but to my darkened eyes in vain-- My night, e'en in the noon of thy domain, Yields not to thee, since joy of thine again Can ne'er my dayless being bless. SILENCE. Next, Silence, fit companion of the Night, In drearier depths my being steeping, Like the felt presence of an unseen sprite, With muffled tread comes creeping, creeping. Before me close her smothering curtain swings, And o'er my life a shadeless shadow flings; Sinking with pitiless weight, and slow To shroud the last sweet glimpse of Earth and Man, And set my limits to the narrow span Of but an arm's length here below. O, whither shall I fly, this stroke to shun? Where turn me, this side death and heaven? Almost I would my course on earth were run, And all to Night and Silence given! I turn to man: can he but with me mourn? Alike we're helpless, and, as bubbles borne, We to a common haven float. To Him, th' All-seeing and All-hearing One, Behold, I turn! More hid than he there's none, More silent none, none more remote! Alas, Pensylla, stay that pious tear! Now nearer come, I fain thy voice would hear, Like music when the soul is dreaming; Like music dropping from a far off sphere, Heard by the good, when life's end draweth near. It faintly comes, a spirit seeming, The sounds at once entrance me, ear and soul: The voice of winds and waves, the thunder's roll. The steed's proud neigh, and lamb's meek plaint, The hum of bees, and vesper hymn of birds, The rural harmony of flocks and herds, The song of joy, or praise, and man's sweet words-- Come to me fainter--yet more faint Was my poor soul to God's great works so dull. That they from her must hide forever? Earth too replete with joy, too beautiful, For me, ingrate, that we must sever? For by sweet scented airs that round me blow, By transient showers, the sun's impassioned glow, And smell of woods and fields, alone I know Of Spring's approach, and Summer's bloom; And by the pure air, void of odors sweet, By noontide beams, low slanting, without heat, By rude winds, cumbering snows, and hazardous sleet, Of Autumn's blight and Winter's gloom As at the entrance of an untrod cave, I shrink--so hushed the shades and sombre. This death of sense makes life a breathing grave, A vital death, a waking slumber! 'Tis as the light itself of God were fled-- So dark is all around, so still, so dead; Nor hope of change, one ray I find! Yet must submit. Though fled fore'er the light, Though utter silence bring me double night, Though to my insulated mind, Knowledge her richest pages ne'er unfold, And "human face divine" I ne'er behold-- Yet must submit, must be resigned! TO THE SHADES. To thee, blind Milton, solemn son of night, Great exile once from day's dominion bright, Whose genius, steeped in truth and glory, Like some wide orb of new created light, Rose, in the world, bewildering mortals' sight-- I'll sing till earth's young hills grow hoary! For what of joy I've found in life's dark way, And what of excellence have reached I may, Much, much is due thy wondrous rhyme, Which sang the triumphs of Eternal Truth, Revealed blest glimpses of immortal youth, Of Heaven, e'er angels sang of time: Of light, that o'er the embryon tumult broke, Of earth, when all the stars symphonious woke, Till man, as if from Heaven a seraph spoke, Entranced, hung on thy strains sublime. Day closes on the earth his one bright eye, That Night, her starry lids unsealing, May ope her thousand in a loftier sky, God's higher mysteries revealing. So when thy day from thee its light withdrew, And o'er the night its rueful shadows threw, And "from the cheerful ways of men" Thy steps cut off, thy mind, thick set with eyes, As night with stars, piercing thy shrouded skies, And proving most illumined then, When darkest seeming, soared on cherub wings-- Those star-eyed wings--higher than ever springs The beam of day, to see, and tell of things Invisible to mortal ken. O'er earth thy numbers shall not cease to roll Till man to live, who to them hearkened; Thy fame, no less immortal than thy soul, Shall shine when yon proud sun is darkened. Thee, now, methinks, I see, O bard divine! Where ripen no fair joys that are not thine, And God's full love is pleased on thee to shine, Still by the heavenly Muses fired, And starred among the angelic minstrel band, The sacred lyre thou sway'st with sovereign hand, While seraphs, in awed rapture, round thee stand, As one by God himself inspired. Sublime Beethoven, wizard king of sound, Once exiled from thy realm, yet not discrowned-- Assist me; since my spirit, thrilling With thy surpassing strains, is mute, spell bound; For through the hush of years they still resound, With music weird my spent ear filling. When Silence clasped thee in her dismal spell, And Earth born Music sang her sad farewell; Thy mighty Genius, as in scorn, Arose in silent majesty to dwell, Where from symphonic spheres thou heard'st to swell, As on celestial breezes borne, Sounds, scarce by angels heard, e'en in their dreams; Which, at thy bidding, wrought a thousand themes, And pouring down in rich pellucid streams, Filled organ grand and resonant horn; With rarest sweetness touched each dulcet string, Made martial bugle and bold clarion ring, Soft flute provoked like the lone bird of spring, To warble lays of love forlorn; Woke shrilly reed to many a pastoral note Thrilled witching lyre and lips melodious smote, Till earth, in tuneful ether, seemed to float-- As when first sang the stars of morn! Till wondering angels were entranced to chime, With harp and choral tongue, thy strains sublime And bear thy soul beyond the reach of time, Heaven's halls harmonious to adorn. Ah, me! could I with ken angelic, scan Celestial glories hid from mortal man, I'd deem this night a day supernal! Could music, borne from some far singing sphere, Float sweetly down and thrill my stricken ear, I'd pray this hush might be eternal! RESIGNATION. Pensylla, look! With tremulous points of fire, The sun, red-sinking lights yon distant spire O'er leafy hill and blossoming meadows, Spreads wide and level his departing beams, Then sinks to rest, as one sure of sweet dreams, 'Mid pillowing clouds and curtaining shadows. Night draws her lucid shade o'er sky and earth; Solemn and bright, Heaven's starry eyes look forth; The evening hymn of praise and song of mirth Rise gratefully from man's abode. O, Night! I love her sombre majesty! 'Tis sweet, her double solitude, to me! Pensylla, leave me now! Alone I'd be With Darkness, Silence and my God. O Thou, whose shadow is but light's excess, The echo of whose voice but silentness, Whose light and music, half expended, Would flood, dissolve the sphery frame; 'twixt whom And man no endless night can throw its gloom Till long Eternity is ended-- Which ne'er shall end--to thee, my trust, I turn! To one, for whom in vain thy lamps now burn, A hearing deign; nor from thy footstool spurn The prayer of an imprisoned mind. Father, thy sun is set; night veils the world, That orbs more beauteous be to man unfurled, Then in my Night, let me but find New realms, where thought and fancy may rejoice; Let its long silence ne'er displace Thy voice From whispering hope and peace, 'twere my choice To be thus smitten deaf and blind! Fill me with light and music from above, And so inspire with truth, faith, courage, love, That Thou and man my work can well approve-- Father, to all I'm then resigned! Harp of the mournful voice, now fare thee well! My sad song ended, ended is thy spell. Perchance thine echoes, memory haunting, May oft awaken, shadowing forth the swell Of long sung monody and long tolled knell, And o'er the dead past, dirges chanting; But for me, ever hang in Sorrow's hall! Bid Night and Silence spread oblivion's pall O'er earthly blooming joys, that seared must fall And leave the stricken soul to weep:-- Ever, till this devoted head be hoar, And the swart angel whispering at the door; When I thy slumbers may disturb once more. Ere double night bring double sleep, Till then, I sing in happier, bolder strain: What's lost to me is God's; what's left, for pain Or joy still His: and endless day, His reign: And reckoning of my Night He'll keep! AUTUMN. BY ELLENOR J. JONES, Of the Indiana Institution. Oh Autumn, sweet sad Autumn queen, With robe of golden brown, Our hearts are bowed with grief and pain, As each leaf flutters down. In every drooping flow'ret, In every leafless tree, By warbling birds deserted, We find some trace of thee. Thou'rt lovely, oh, so lovely, And yet how brief thy stay, Why is it all things beautiful Must droop and fade away? All, all thy gorgeous painted leaves, With colors bright and gay, Were touched by nature's magic brush, Then rudely cast away. And thus our dearest hopes are crushed, By fate's relentless will, Like withered leaves they pass away-- But peace, sad heart, be still. Thou too must breast the adverse wind, Be wildly tempest-tossed, Perhaps when thou art hushed in death, Thou'lt meet the loved and lost. But for this sweetly, solemn thought That thrills us with delight, This life, so marred by grief and pain, Could never seem so bright. Then welcome, sweet, sad Autumn days, Though brief the hallowed reign, For every smile must have its tear, And every joy its pain. A TIME FOR ALL THINGS. BY ELLEN COYN, Of the Arkansas Institution. I sat down at the window, where I oft had calmed my ruffled feeling, For summer evening's balmy air Has for the wounded spirit healing. That morning I had been quite glad, For hope had prospects bright in keeping, But fortune changed, and I was sad, And there I sat in silence weeping. 'Tis vain I said to hope for good, Or cherish bliss for one short hour, If morn puts forth a fragrant bud, Ere night 'tis but a withered flower. My Bible lay upon the stand, In which I'd ofttimes found a blessing, I quickly took the book in hand, In hope to learn a useful lesson. I read upon its open page, "There is a time and purpose given, It has been so from age to age, For everything that's under Heaven. " 'Tis vain and wrong to wish, I thought, That life with me be always sunny, My cup with bitter never fraught, But always overflown with honey When fortune frowns I'll not despair, I'll only weep away my sorrow, 'Twill ease my heart and brow of care, I'll laugh when joy returns to-morrow. DRIFTING. BY ELLENOR J. JONES. We are drifting on the sea of life, Like ships we're tempest-tossed, And 'mid this world of care and strife How many are wrecked and lost! Our vessels are sometimes set afloat, 'Neath a bright and cloudless sky, But far in the distance hid from view, The breakers are sure to lie. Others are launched on an angry sea, When the waves are dashing high, And the wild winds give a ghostly tone, To the curlew's troubled cry. But the good ship Faith is gaily launched, For the pilot, Hope, is there, And Love, with his flaming lamp of light, Maketh all things wondrous fair. Soon Faith is wrecked by a careless word, And beautiful Hope is dead, And Love, with the holy light of life, In an angry moment fled. And thus on the wide wild sea of life, We are drifting day by day, Without one thought of the solemn truth, That we all shall pass away.