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Contents

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I. Introduction

II. Morning .

Introduction

TT is a fortunate lot to be born in New England ; to find one’s self stepping from the cradle out into the fore world of thought, stirred by breezes fresh with the freedom of humanity ; to know that a hope rises with the morning for every one of her children, to set only in the night of those earth-sorrows, which the rich and poor, the wise and foolish, of all lands, may experience alike, in accordance with the divine economy of God. And for these, His chosen ones, the light of fhith forever shines, breaking in glory upon the mountains of the future. The child of New England looks toward the East, saying, Now

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is the high noon of the world ; we will bid farewell to the mists of earlier hours, and lands overladen by the history of ages, gathering from these what we need, but leaving the rest to decay upon the parent soil. Hope and experience shall here be planted together, that our growth may be lusty, and the vast tree wave its benediction to the sunset. The old world bends a slow, wise smile over these youthful ardors, but the look is kindly; perhaps it is born of the knowledge that he who conceives daringly shall not achieve sparingly ; perhaps the smile is tempered by the thought that all mortal conception is the germ of immortal fruition, upon which another sun shall beam, if not his own.

Herbert Gregory’s reflections, which we have endeavored to express, however imperfectly, ran somewhat into this same channel of pride and satisfaction with his native land, as he passed through the college grounds, one early autumn afternoon, toward his father’s house. J

INTRODUCTION

He had just come back from a tour through Europe, the immediate sequence of his academic career, and with the benefit of travel on one hand, and the happiness of return on the other, it was not a cause for astonishment that he should appreciate, with a far keener sense than ever before, the bounties and significance of his home. To the untravelled, if Herbert had been tempted at this time to unfold his feeling to any such, we can fancy the dispraise of wandering as affecting his listener with a kind of disgust, or even doubt of his sincerity ; perhaps, with something of the same feeling which young readers have, when attempting to enjoy the translation of a classic, the favorite with their learned teacher, who delights himself daily over the original, while his pupils toil wearily as through stubble-land, perplexed by the enthusiasm they see inspired. But Herbert had just quitted his friend Russell, now soberly enough settled at home in con-

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nection with the University. His European experience was an affair of the past, yet Herbert was pleased to discover that Russell agreed with him perfectly in regard to the superior incentive (and therefore the superior advantage) of life in America. It was possible that the simple old library, with its spacious windowseats, and broad windows looking out among the pines, the crackling logs on the hearth, and Edith’s chair beside the fire, where she had been sitting with them that autumn afternoon, had some slight influence upon Russell’s opinion, expressed decidedly in disfavor of American youth who give their valuable time to European travel; but whatever the reason might be, it was doubtless sufficiently good, since it was sincere. It was a favorite idea, also, with Russell, although an eccentric one, that even the romance writer could find no better groundwork and material than New England affords. “ Where,” he would say,

INTRODUCTION.

enthusiastically, “ where can Spring tread more daintily than here ! If we wait long for her, there is a rapture when she is at length unveiled, which the March anemones of the Pamfili Doria or the velvet green of England might well envy. And Summer, too, a season of rich surprises, with days which seem to be swept from the Orient, when the whole atmosphere palpitates, and man and beast yield to the midnight stillness of noon ; and those other days, in quick succession, when the air breathes of icebergs, and the sky is pale pellucid blue from dawn till dark, when suddenly with another morning come the clouds, and rain, and odors of the sea, brought inland on the wings of northeast gales ; and afterward Autumn, with the unspeakable splendors of his drapery ; and Winter, with snow and firelight, long and dreary enough, except for the Fortunate Islands of home ; — what more than these could a new enchanter desire ? ”

This ready eloquence of Russell, which he did not hesitate' to express to his friend in the somewhat florid manner we have indicated, naturally served to confirm Herbert in the opinion he had already formed. Nor did the sentiment of patriotism, if we may dignify his half-developed feeling by such a name, grow less, but rather stronger, when, after a year or two of drifting in waves of uncertainty with regard to his career, he at last established his own library-fireside at “ The Cliff,” where, a few years having passed, we find him with his wife Alice and his children, — the stately ship of life riding with safety in its serene harbor, held fast by the divine anchorage of home.

II. Morning

T T was a dawn of Spring. The early breezes catching the whisper of Day in the far east, awoke the sleepers of the world before his beams appeared, waving and swaying the cool mists which overlay the face of the dry earth, as the wind may play with and flutter the facecloth of the dead. But soon the solemn morning purpled and broadened into heaven-wide circles, until at length it bloomed upon the sky, a vast rose-garden of Divinity. As in our narrow household world a lady watches through the lucent doors of her^ home garden the purpling and widening, and at length the rosy unfolding of the broad “Azalia splendens,” so, for all Nature and the world of humanity, blossomed the slow morning, and widened into the beauty of broad day.

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There was no mist in the soul of Alice Gregory when she awoke, only the full strength of the morning of love ; but as the fatal clouds which obscure the sun often arise after a clear unveiling of his beams, so came her afterthought, and the memory of approaching separation. Herbert was that day to leave her for a sea-voyage, in search of health (the true talisman of this world’s good, which had been shorn from him by the modern Delilah, Overwork), and his early hour of departure was at hand. She arose hastily, and, while she gathered her abundant hair, memoiy came to tell her that thus far only the lights of life had shone upon her ; to-day its shadows would fall, and a touch of the white frost of care, which leaves silver threads in dark clusters such as she was then binding together, would mark their advent. Yet even these white threads, she remembered, serve to lead us in

safety, with uplifted eyes, through the diffi-

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cult passages of tlie world, out into a purer existence.

Clamorous nursery cries aroused her. She opened the door leading to her children’s room, and found them already impatient to accompany her to the beach. She had promised this happiness, with her bedside kiss, the night before. She knew all children are happy on a beach ; it is their eternal wonder-world.

“ Your father is going away, far away,” she said, gently stilling their turbulence with a quiet manner native to her, “ come with me to the shor^ now, children, and see his little boat.”

They ran eagerly to her side, and danced about her footsteps as she descended. Herbert was at the water’s edge before then!/ watching the safe conveyance to the ship of box and bag carefully prepared by Alice. He did not perceive her approach, until the clear voices of his children warned him ; then he started, as if

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with pain ; but in a moment turned upon them with a warm, strong smile, such as had made the daily sunshine of his wife. Already she seemed to feel its brightness pale, and her own responsive beams to fade as dreams depart before one hastily awakened. He did not speak to her, but seized their boy, according to his morning custom, kissed his cheeks, and puzzled him by crying, “ Here is honey-dew ! ” while Ernest clung closely to him, ready for the wildest frolic. Allegra, on the contrary, timid and tender as a spring violet, stood half hidden in her mother’s skirts.

The little group waited a few moments by the ' shore, listening for the sound of the returning oars to break the stillness. Soon the dip and gurgle were distinctly heard, and shortly after the red shirts of the boatmen gleamed in the mist, and the keel grated on the sand. Last words were few, for tears shone in the eyes of Alice, and Herbert dared not speak either for

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himself or her ; but the children’s voices were now busy in a strange refrain of laughter, making the desolation of parting appear more profound than before. As he sprang lightly into the boat, little Ernest leaving his play ran towards him, shouting, u Papa, I ’m a big boy now, let me go, too,” but the oarsmen had already shoved away from the shore, and the rays of the newly risen sun were shooting their busy shuttles through the mist and fringes of the rippling waves, until with each oar-stroke the boat seemed to lose itself in a glamour impenetrable at last to the dazzled eyes of Alice.

Then she turned away, and calling the children, walked toward her home. As she ascended the cliff, she saw the distant sea was calm, and the fresh blue was waking on its face. But the slow waves breaking below her feet ; the knoll radiant with dew-strung grass, upon which she stood ; ' the garden gate ; and

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the blooming, swaying branches above her head, — brought a deeper meaning in their loveliness to-day, eloquent of the happy, unreturning past. Soon she- found herself under the broad awning of the hospitable piazza, whence she gazed wistfully out, hoping to see the departing ship. For a moment it was possible to discern the filling sails ; then the winds seemed to bear the winged thing suddenly out of the world into the golden chambers of the East.

Alice looked abroad over the earth then, and watched the day. The dew of youth, and the mystery of morning had fled, and the approaching sun of noon was ripening the dim purpose they foreshadowed. It lighted the sharp edges of the world, and gave her pain, until she saw the great rocks of Love and Friendship fling their broad and kindly shadows over her weary land. How beautiful her morning had been! She asked her-

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self, “ Shall not the noon, too, be lustrous with its skies of deeper blue and fruit sunned by beams of the Orient, even though watered well by the storm-days of life ? ”

LICE ceased gazing at the wide horizon, x ^ now shut down silently over the absent one, silently as shuts the veil of death when the play of life is ended ; then she entered the house through the long, low windows of the library. The place was redolent of flowers ; heaps on heaps lay in one tangled dewy mass upon the table where Herbert had evidently thrown them, knowing this early morning labor would find due appreciation. Wild-wood favorites rifled from deep hidden nooks, garden companions, and the common wayside friends lay together in beautiful and unwonted proximity.

“ Mamma,” cried Ernest, who was standing by, eager to see his mother’s delight over this

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endless mass of blooms, “ may Ally and I bring you the vase to put them in?” and, before she could reply, the two had scampered off, and were again on the threshold with their chubby hands clenched over the delicate alabaster of the pretty Warwick model, both staggering under the weight and responsibility.

66 Now, children,” said she, when the precious freight was safely landed at her feet, “ run to the south room, and tell the lady who came last night, that papa has brought flowers, and mamma would like her to see them.”

A gliding step on the doorway arrested the children in their second flight, and caused them to look timidly towards the lovely person whom their father had told them was to be their friend and teacher.

“ Erminia,” said Alice, after their morning salutation, u I remembered the habit of early rising which you acquired during our school

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days. It is not one easily relinquished, having been once thoroughly learned, and I was about to send the children to invite you to join me. I owe much to you, and not the least of my debts is a knowledge of those noble verses by Henry Vaughan, beginning,

‘When first mine eyes unveil/

Have you forgotten them?”

“ No,” said Erminia, as she rescued a blooming rose, entangled in a mass of Mitchella vine, “ I love those verses still, and better that we first came to know each other, as it were, through them. But where shall I put this exquisite cluster ? ” and she held up, as she spoke, a little vase of flowers which her speedy fingers had already arranged.

“ Surely that is beautiful enough for the western chamber,” answered Alice ; yet, while speaking of the vase, she looked chiefly at her friend, who never appeared to her more lovely. The slender group of lilies and roses, relieved

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against the deep blue of her dress; the sunshine streaming through her rich “ Venetian ” hair, causing the gold gleams hidden there to shine ; and especially a sweet simplicity of manner, an unconsciousness which is the soul of beauty, made her inexpressibly lovely to Alice.

“That room is to be Russell’s,1 ” she continued, “he is an old friend of Herbert, as you know well, and I wish his welcome to be kindly and affectionate at least, since his visit must needs be dull without his companion. His little daughter Fanny, who is her father’s only earthly joy now, shall have the cabinet adjoining for her bedroom. Ernest, you may tell Marion to show the way to the west room, and arrange it for our guest.”

Erminia heard Alice’s directions for the comfortable establishing of Russell undisturbed by feeling of anxiety with regard to his arrival. She knew something of his character and his-

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tory, and although she felt a sincere interest in his career, there seemed invincible barriers between them, which proximity must only widen. His genius (for the world worshipped it as such) ; his pride of family, and consequent position in society ; the recent loss of a wife, lovely and beloved, eminent for talent and devotion to her home ; the flattery of strangers, and caresses of private circles, — all these things, contrasted with her own estranged and unregarded existence, made Erminia feel not only the distance between herself and Alice’s distinguished guest, but she saw that the cares of her position would not be slight if she were able to fulfil the duties she desired to assume. Much of Alice’s time would necessarily be occupied with him, she thought, or with the friends he attracted to the house. She determined, therefore, to make it her duty and pleasure not only to guard the children’s welfare but to oversee

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the business of the household, so far as this should prove a possible and real service to Alice. These duties she felt would shelter her somewhat from the labor of receiving visitors, the present condition of her mind rendering her unfit for social enjoyment.

At this juncture of their lives the value of the school friendship they had enjoyed became doubly apparent to Alice and Erminia. They were not obliged to grope blindly, while endeavoring to adapt themselves to each other. Alice felt the presence of her friend as a continual balm and consolation ; while for Erminia, left solitary in the world by her father’s death, the delicate sympathies of her companion were ever ready to understand and shield her.

So different are the manifestations of grief, one could not easily divine from the appearance of Erminia that the floods of sorrow had gone over her. Habitually calm, and in*

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structed under the watchful eye of her father, who lived the life of a recluse, she wore daily, over a spirit swayed by every wind of joy and every note of sorrow, a well-poised character, which enabled her to act without too great hesitation, and without subsequent regret; and where a superior judgment came to her assistance, she recognized its power and rejoiced in its repose. Her self-reliance became naturally more strongly accentuated when her earthly guide and instructor was withdrawn from her side. It veiled her from the eyes of the world, simply, yet as securely as the arts of Prospero could; and sometimes that was accounted to her as pride which was only the strength and height of true humility.

Erminia was scarcely twelve years old when her mother died, and two maiden aunts came to reside with her father and herself. They found the young girl somewhat restive under their unaccustomed restraints, and after a few

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passages at arms in which, to say the least, they were but poorly seconded by her father, they were convinced that the tasks of subduing the child and comprehending her parent’s idea for her education transcended the limit of their ability. They willingly resigned the father and daughter, after a few months of endeavor, to a loneliness which was evidently far too agreeable to satisfy the afflicted vanity of the two ladies.

In truth it was an unspeakably happy pair. The child who appeared so wilful and wayward under uncongenial control became with her father, what he believed her to be, the most docile of pupils, and humble as a lover. She surprised him by her precocity in certain branches of education, in those especially which she had chosen ; for he desired to give her a certain freedom of selection, provided the study, whatever it might be, were performed with integrity and vigor.

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Such was their life, while the moons waxed and waned, and the child became a woman, and the autumn grew to winter. At last a night shut down in which the silentness of death overspread the beloved features of the old man, and Erminia was left solitary in the quiet cottage.

After a time she was able to recall the happy hours of devotion and faith she might never know again, and so companion her dim solitude. And then came the old school friendship for Alice, giving color to her life once more. That, indeed, was like a calm harbor always, in the tempestuous sea of years which seemed to outstretch before her.

In a letter to Alice, at this time, she wrote : “ Seven years ago, hpon your marriage day, I grieved and wept. In my girlish weakness, I feared I had lost something, being ignorant of the divine mystery of married love to enlarge the possibilities of life. After these years

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of experience I find how much I have gained, and when I think of you, I feel myself surrounded by loving hearts You may

perhaps wonder when we meet to see me wearing none of the habiliments of grief, and I must anticipate your surprise by explaining that it was the wish of my dear father to banish such array. A woman folded in crape always made him shudder. ‘ That person throws a gloom over my day ! ’ he would exclaim, ‘Does she mean to closet herself with death, and receive no higher companionship ? Do these people believe all the sorrow of the world belongs to them ? 9

“ 6 Erminia,’ he said, a few days before his death, when hardly conscious of his words, 4 1 remember how she looked the day I asked her. She did not say, “ Yes,” but turned her face away, and the quick blush stained her cheek far down till the ruffle hid it, and a tear dropped on her blue robe as she laid her hand

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in mine. Erminia, don’t forget how much I like to see you wear blue ; your mother wore blue ! ’ I think, after this, he spoke little, but lay as if peacefully absorbed in reminiscence, until the last solemn hours, when he roused himself to discourse on holy themes.

“ To-morrow I leave this old house. It seems like coldly forsaking all I love best ; I suppose, the entire solitude is not good ; at least so my aunts endeavor to persuade me, and for a time I must yield my wish to theirs. But I . can confide to no one the joys of the divine companionship I receive while walking in the paths he made, and following his vanished footsteps through the little wood. Here we are not separated; he draws me to his supreme height, and' every leaf, and the enlightening rays of each expiring day seem like whisperings of his spirit close to mine.

“I hardly know how I have been enabled to say this, even to you, dear Alice, but it shall

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stand, that you may know when we meet and talk cheerfully on other themes, perhaps, that life has become possible, and my heart is at peace. Already received into the saints’ rest through the love of my vanished one, my spirit cannot be disturbed by storms at any lower level.

“ I shall soon return to this place, I cannot be away. Old Nancy clings to me as if I were her all, and will cajole blossoms into the dead garden before I see it again. Here she comes already with the first snowdrop. Farewell.” .

There were frequent letters between the two ladies subsequent to this ; more frequent, perhaps, on the part of Erminia than of Alice, who found the cares and pre-occupations of her life too absorbing to make it easy to write often. Her delinquencies in this respect were made good, however, by a three days visit she found time to pay her friend in company with her husband and Russell and his wife.

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Wliat happy days they were! How often Erminia, afterward, sitting alone by her cottage window, overlooking the undulating meadows and the shifting shadows on the corn, would recall the sweet, pale face of Russell’s wife, and his anxious loving glance ; or at times would remember, less pensively, those long hours under the pines, when the new poem was first read which had since made Russell famous; his merry jests, too, would come back to her, and the dance of responsive light in the brown eyes of Alice, and Herbert.

Once, as the twilight faded from the landscape, so impalpably that day seemed to pause and invite the weary children of the world to rest their hearts in its ineffable beauty, she sat and looked, and thought upon her friends. Suddenly a voice like Russell’s, crying “ Edith,” as if across the gulf of time, came to her. Then she knew Edith was dead, and that Russell stood alone.

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FROM A LETTER OF ALICE TO ERMINIA.

u Do not refuse our request, dear Erminia ; it is necessary for Herbert’s health that he should go away, yet it will in a measure alleviate the pain of his departure, I am sure, if he. feels you will be at home here during his absence. Beside, for our children’s sake, I must urge it. I cannot send them away to school while there is a hope left me of your care and instruction. Perhaps this argument may prevail with you before every other. The necessity of occupation is the true spur to energetic life, and you are rigorous in the demands you make upon yourself! Therefore I feel you will find no uncongenial sphere for your labors here with my children. It has long been a part of my creed that the parent cannot make the best instructor of the child. A fresh mind impelling the intellect through unwonted channels, and a fresh heart whose

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sympathies forerun the religious aspiration of the growing soul, may be like a torch and guiding hand to lead it through the mysterious passages of life, where else it may stumble blindfold. Perhaps the child fears to confide to one • so wise as his parent appears to him, lest his fancies, and those strange winds of feeling which sweep across the sunny plains of being, may be regarded as mere foolishness. But what can he not lay in holy confidence upon the newly erected altar of friendship! Beside is not religion aspiration ? And what can quicken a child’s nature more truly than contact with a new individual, who speaks to him from a heart of noble endeavor? Thus is reverence awakened, that keystone by which the arches of life are strengthened and their beauty sealed

a I must not omit to tell you that Herbert besought Bussell to come with little Fanny and make his home here during the autumn

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and winter. It is yet more than doubtful if he accedes to our arrangement, but we shall not allow this new plan, even if it prove feasible, to interfere with the retirement of your life while here.

“ I hope for you and await you, my dear friend ! Your presence will alleviate the weight of the difficult burden I must bear.”

Therefore, Erminia went.

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IV. An Excursion

HE days passed swiftly and peacefully

A at “ The Cliff.” Alice had scarcely allowed herself to hope for the repose which succeeded her arrangements. They had been made with reference to the well-being of others, — the happiness of the result was felt by none more deeply than herself.

The skill and method of Erminia in her new duties were recognized almost immediately, through their effect upon the children. Her direct influence was exercised for a few hours of the morning only, but it was sufficient to render them more thoughtful and circumspect in their relations to each other during the day. The confinement of the school-room gave a zest to the freedom which succeeded, and she

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joined the happy flight out into the air with as much rapture as either of her pupils. This rule for school hours as well as play, once quietly established, was seldom infringed upon ; for Alice knew the advantage of a healthy routine was not to he lightly estimated.

One morning little Fanny ran into her father’s room much earlier than usual, with all the impetuous eagerness of a child who has a story to tell, and finding him already seated at his desk, although it was half an hour top early even for the children’s breakfast, she curled up on his lap, saying, “ 0 papa, I am so glad you are ready, because now I can tell you a secret ! Perhaps I sha’n’t tell, after all, but you may guess, papa, if you can. I love somebody, — somebody beside you, dear papa ; will you try to guess who it is ? ”

“ Why, perhaps,” he said, trying to make the difficulty appear as great as possible, “ perhaps it is your teacher, Fanny.”

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u Well, papa, I don’t see how you ever guessed ; but you can’t think how good she is, and when we have been obedient she will sing to us sometimes, and — 0 dear papa, how I wish you would ask her to sing to you, it is so beautiful to hear her! And what do you think she did for us yesterday, when we had stayed a little too late in the woods, and were hurrying home from our walk in the afternoon ? Why, you see, there had been a great high tide, and the ocean had washed right over the short path and left a little pond. We tried to get round it, and tried and tried till Ally almost tumbled in ; then at last she pulled off her shoes and stockings and tucked up her dress and carried us over one by one in her arms. Was n’t that kind, papa ? My turn came last, because I am the tallest, so she gave me her shoes and stockings to carry. I thought I held on tight, but I almost dropped them once when I looked down and was thinking how pretty

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the water looked splashing up round her feet. But good by, papa ; there’s the bell, and I must run, for I hear Ernest and Ally in the hall already.” And down his little girl slipped and disappeared before she heard, much less answered, any further questions.

An hour later, when Russell came into the breakfast-room, he found Alice and Erminia had just entered. It was somewhat later than their customary season, and as he took Erminia’ s hand he observed it to be slightly hot, and that she wore a heavy shawl drawn about her but her manner, which was more gay and sprightly than usual, forbade special inquiry after her health, and the three were soon busily engaged discussing a new path which Herbert had long contemplated and desired, to lead more dii*ectly to the shore, which Alice •had determined, with Russell’s assistance, to complete during his absence. It was not possible for Russell to banish the thought of Er-