Nineteen beautiful years; or, sketches of a girl's life, written by her sister with an introduction by Rev. R. S. Foster, D.D.

Front matter

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11 ^pELL every body to be good !" These -■- simple, earnest words — among the last ever spoken by the gentle girl whose story we have written — form at once the index to its purpose and our apology for its presentation.

The delineation of a character, and the portrayal of a life like hers — although the one was in its earliest blossoming, and the other had measured less than a score of years — will give her message to the world in a manner more fitting and significant than it could be expressed in sermon or in song.

And yet, when we contemplated preparing this biography, our surface-thought was that it did not seem probable that we could interest those who had never seen the pleasant face of her who is our heroine ; who had never smiled at her quaint words, nor felt a pang of sorrow for her in their lives.

But reflection proves our error. One of our Great-hearts of the pen has said what every reader's highest nature must tell him is the truth :

" There is an imperishable nature of man, ever and every where the same, of which each particular man is a testimony and representation. At* a certain depth all bosoms communicate, all hearts are one."

So your grief, O Humanity ! is mine, and mine is yours, by an irrevocable and blessed law. Thus, in some sense, our interests are the same. If, then, we are of one family, with one universal heart, why may we not talk in love and sympathy even across the seas? for your eye glistens on that side, and mine on this, with the same emotion ; since, as a generous soul has said, "I am human, and whatever touches humanity touches me."

Kind friends ! you would read of and discuss a fictitious character with relish, and surely you will be as much interested in this one, which is real, which is still in conscious life, and though unknown to you here, will greet you in the glorious, mystical land — perchance ere very long.

Ail Introductory Chapter. 21

You are not bidden to the contemplation of an ascetic's character, nor to one of an abnormal growth and a too early ripeness. A pure-hearted, kindly girl is introduced to you — one whose character, though not rounded into symmetry, gave promise of a noble womanhood ; one who loved life as well as you do, who studied diligently to prepare herself for the beautiful years which she believed were stretching out before her ; who felt it was

u A thing to be beloved, And honored holily, and bravely borne ;"

yet who, notwithstanding her deep sense of its duties, and her earnest wish to merit its rewards, was known among her young friends as the merriest of them all.

The writer has thought — and this opinion has been confirmed by consultations with those well qualified to judge — that this portraiture of a character so sweet and so pleasant would not fail to be of interest to the young, for whom it is more especially intended, and could hardly fail to make them better.

This life of Mary has been written lovingly, for the hand which has traced its lines is the same that all through childhood held her chubby little hand as two sisters took their woodland rambles, or went along the shady path to school. And the story is of how she lived among us with love and cheeriness ; how she was eager to grow wise ; how she tried to be of use, and to make it a happy thing for others that she lived ; how she grew very spiritual, very "meet for angels 7 company;" how Christ came for her one beautiful June morning, and she went away with Him.

If some rare plant should grow within your garden, with fragile stem, delicate leaf, and pure white blossom; if it should elaborate from the material common to all the garden — from the moisture, air, and sunshine that pure corolla, those fairy stamens, that faint, delicious fragrance, would you not wish that others might see your treasure and inhale the perfume which it bore?

This gentle girl was such a flower, blooming in the garden of life. From elements beyond the reach of none she elaborated a character genial and beautiful. Its roots were firmly planted in the truth ; the air it breathed was love toward God and toward all that He has made. The dews of gentleness and charity fell

An Introductory Chapter. 23

upon it and were absorbed ; it expanded in the sunshine of faith, and the perfume of humility filled all the air around it.

It can but cheer and strengthen those who, like her, are young — who would gather within their hearts all sweet and kindly qualities — to contemplate one who, though not faultless, wrought vigorously during the brief years allotted to her, believing that

" Sculptors of life are we, With our souls uncarved before us;"

and who, in that strength which was never yet denied to the earnest supplicant, overcame all, " even the last enemy, which is Death."

Her outside life was not eventful, but her intellect and heart-history can not fail to prove rich and beautiful, if pictured even dimly. And we all know well enough that away down in the heart, where it is still, is the place in which all true living is done. As one thinketh in his heart, so is he ; and what my sister thought in hers I know quite well, for we kept nothing from each other — a broad statement, indeed, yet one which is strictly true.

Books of the same general scope as this are frequently consigned by the consolatory critic, without farther comment, to "the circle of relatives for whom they were no doubt intended, and who will find a mournful pleasure in their perusal." Lest some such mistake should be made in the present instance, the statement may be permitted that this book, however signally it may fail of fulfilling its design, is not intended merely as a receptacle in which the memory of a departed friend may be preserved — however sweet and hallowed that memory — for the gratification of relatives. Its use is meant to be a wider one, and its author is not without hope that many a bright-eyed youth and maiden may rise from its perusal with braver hearts to do that which is right — with firmer faith in the unseen powers that work for those who seek the truth, and a confirmed resolve to be more gentle and helpful — more diligent to win from life its truest joys.

Mourners throng our streets; the sable garments of the bereaved are seen on every hand ; the union and liberties of our native land are being won by untold heartaches. If to some who sorrow for

"The unreturning brave" this little book might bring new suggestions

An Introductory Chapter. 25

of the Helper who was never so near to them as now ; or if to any of the noble band who fight our battles it might come as a loving voice from loftier regions, urging them on to victory in the war against a foe more wily than any ever vanquished by carnal weapons, a double purpose would be served.

Now is Mary's story left to the criticisms of strangers. She was always sheltered from the keen edge of rebuke ; she never knew the lack of sympathy. Dear friends who read about her, may she find loving hearts in yours !

II 6jit Cjttlb

"Here at the portal thou dost stand, And with thy little hand Thou openest the mysterious gate Into the future's undiscovered land."

Longfellow.

"Tis strange how childhood's simple words Interpret Nature's mystic book — How it will listen to the birds, Or ponder on the running brook, As if its spirit fed.

Willis.

WHEN the character and life of a private individual are portrayed, the question with the reader is not, Who was he? but that other and more important one, What was he ? To what influences was he subjected?

So, in this simple narrative, we shall have little to do with names and dates, but shall concern ourselves with something more intrinsic, more vital than these.

Omitting then, as unimportant, the time and place of Mary's birth, we introduce to you a chubby, fair-faced child in simple frock and snowy apron, with sun-bonnet dangling by one string from her hand, with a firm, steady step, and a voice full of falling inflections. The force of a strong will compresses her cherry lips ; the love of a warm heart sparkles in her eyes ; the prophecy of a fine intellect is on her broad, smooth brow. A sweet and pleasant child, you would say at the first glance.

Country life has set carnations blooming in her cheeks, broadened her chest, and given to her that sense of freedom and expansion in which a noble nature has its healthiest growth. Was it likely that she, as a woman, should be dwarfed and intolerant, who, when a child, saw always the river flowing so broad and so free ; trees throwing out their branches thrifty and long, whither they would ; prairies stretching away mile after mile until the eye ached with following their track? Surely, if one is reared in sight of any grand scene of nature, he should, in his hours of thanksgiving, make mention of the fact! "We can not in a few pages give a more truthful idea of this child's life than by inserting the following sketch written for a friend's amusement, some time ago :

You ask for my memories of those young years. Were I a poet I might sing of them so that vistas in the woods, the murmur of streams, the odor of moss and violets, and the taste of nuts and berries should come to your imagination as you heard me. Nature! glorious mirror of Divinity ! What constant students were we of thy myriad forms and mysteries all through those years of childhood !

Hie Child. 31

As I write, separated by hundreds of miles from the dear old home, past scenes rise before me, sounds once familiar are in my ears. Away in the pasture the cow-bell's mellow tinkle is heard, bringing suggestions of cool and shady places, of odors moist and sweet. The drowsy, dreamy feeling comes again, the same which the music of the bells brought with it long ago. Again the wind is making that endless, breathing sound among the treetops ; again the liquid notes of the blackbirds join in chorus, in the poplar grove down by the river; again the complaint of the mourning dove, sweetest and saddest of songs, comes from the lonely depths of the woods. And so the spell is upon me, and I will picture a few scenes from the Past.

A queer old cottage with rambling roof, gables, dormer-windows, and little porches, crannies, and out-of-the-way nooks, scattered here and there, was our home. The bluffs, so characteristic of Wisconsin, rose about it on the right and left. The beautiful Eock Eiver flowed at the west side ; to the east a prairie stretched away to meet the horizon, yellow with grain in summer, fleecy with snow in the winter of the year. Groves of oak and hickory are on either hand ; a miniature forest of evergreens almost conceals the cottage from the view of passers-by; a vine — the Virginia creeper — twines at will around the pillars of the piazza and over the parlor windows, while its rival, the Michigan rose, clambers over trellis and balustrade to the roof. The air is laden with the perfume of flowers. Through the thick and luxuriant growth of shrubbery paths stray off aimlessly, tempting the feet of the curious down their mysterious aisles. Following one of these in the afternoon of a summer day, you will come to a fine old oak, on which you will be quite likely to notice-board with these words printed upon it, in large letters :

THE EAGLE'S NEST.— BEWAKE ! ,

Looking away up among the branches you will see, perhaps, sitting on a rough seat fasten- ' ed among them, a blue-eyed, brown-haired little girl, engaged in drawing, or in making a fancy fan out of blue jays' and orioles' feathers, or perhaps in fashioning a fine white turnip into a drinking-cup. If you are not quite a stranger she will look at you in an ingenuous way, and reply to any questions you may ask with simplicity and freedom. The honesty of her face and the fearlessness of her manner may induce you to prolong the conversation. If you speak admiringly of the flowers which bloom in rich profusion on every side, she will instantly offer to gather some of them for you : and, descending with graceful agility from her lofty seat, she will cull the choicest blossoms, and arrange them with an ease and delicacy which can not fail to surprise you. The nicety 1 of discrimination shown in the grouping-of colors — the quick, critical glance at the effect — the immediate discovery of a violation of the laws of taste — will strike you as unusual in a child of eight or nine years old. If you suggest a ramble through the garden, she will cordially take your offered hand, and lead you to her favorite places, making many quaint remarks in explanation of the various points of interest.

Once, when acting in this capacity of guide, she completed the round by bringing her friends to "her ant-mound," as she called it, in a remote part of the grounds. She was fond of sitting here to watch the labors of the in- C dustrious little insects, which she had taken under her especial care.

" I wonder if we don't seem as small and as ignorant to God as those ants do to us I" she said, meditatively, as they all stood around the hill ; and added, not speaking to any one, but " thinking aloud:"

" Oh no ! That can't be true ; for it is natural that God should care for us, since we are in his image, and since his Son gave up his life to save us."

Some one began to stir up the nest ; "wishing to see what the little creatures kept in it," he said to Mary, by way of an apology. She caught his hand, and, looking up imploringly, exclaimed :

" Please don't ! Think how you would like to have your house torn down by some great ugly giant, and yourself turned out of doors!"

The " Grave-yard of the Pets" was a favorite place of resort. Here many tiny hillocks, carefully sodded, were scattered about, the glistening white shingles at the head of each giving an intimation of what lay beneath. Among the inscriptions I can remember this :

"Hush the light laugh and merry jest as you approach the grave of Yorick — well beloved !"

No canary ever had a sweeter song than the yellow - breasted warbler which had this epitaph. Another one read thus :

" Beauty and Brighty, Our Pet Rabbits : We loved them, but they died."

On another of these simple monuments to departed worth, surrounded by elaborate carvings, are the words :

11 Mary's White Kitten.".

Every pet that died at Forest Home was certain to receive a decent burial, and to be sincerely mourned. Mary was very active upon these occasions ; and whether it was her work to line the little grave with leaves and flowers, or to sing,

"Alas! poor pet, and did it die? How dismal this must be!"

she performed it with great earnestness and gravity.

Her love of the beautiful was early developed, and was almost the ruling passion of her life. Sometimes — especially in later years — it may have been mistaken for a resemblance to personal vanity, though this could have been the case only among those who had but a slight acquaintance with her, or who possessed but a small power of discrimination. To one whose love of beauty is so intense a tasteful toilet is an essential ; and this not with the thought, " I will adorn myself — I will seek to compel admiration ;" but with this thought, or rather with this instinct — purer and more worthy — " It is fitting, it is beautiful, to be appropriately and tastefully dressed ; to present, so far as is consistent, a fine personal appearance. For this reason I will try to do so." Once, in her journal, I remember, she speaks of wishing that she could have a velvet dress of a color that she admired. To those familiar with her character this was simply an aspiration toward the beautiful for its own, not for her sake.

These aesthetic tendencies so early manifested led to the organization of an Artist's Club, consisting of Mary and myself, when she was about ten years old, which was a source of much pleasure and profit to us both. From conversations to which we had listened, and from books that we had read, we obtained the idea, and we worked it out in this wise. At a meeting held in our little room one summer evening, which was characterized by a decorum and energy seldom surpassed even in graver deliberations, we drafted a set of Eesolutions which, as subsequently copied into a book obtained for that purpose, lie before me now. They set forth our conviction that concert of effort is conducive to success in any undertaking, and that this being true we, "the parties of the first and second part," did hereby "promise to pay" particular attention to the Fine Arts, and would organize a society for that purpose. The Kesolutions proceed with many a " whereas," " therefore," etc., to state more definitely the plan for executing our design, and form an amusing medley of all the legal phrases we could recollect having known gentlemen to employ in business documents or conversations. It seems rather strange that two who were almost constantly associated, and who for many years had no society besides each other's, should thus formally unite in a new enterprise. But this was the invariable mode of procedure. We found variety and amusement in these business - meetings, and omitted no formality during their progress which could add to the dignity which we attached to ourselves in our official capacity.

The "associated effort" inaugurated upon the occasion referred to was vigorously made. Only one office appertained to the " Artist's Club," and this was that of " Provider," whose business it was to make all needful preparations for our semi-weekly excursions for the purpose of taking sketches "from nature;" to oversee and aid in the arrangement of "the Studio," which we regarded as a necessary appendage, and in the conduct of the quarterly exhibitions which we resolved to hold " for the purpose of cultivating the tastes of any who might attend, and also in the expectation that we might at these exhibitions dispose of any works of art, such as sketches, paintings, or statuettes modeled in clay, which we should be able to furnish to the public." The "public" referred to consisted of mother, sometimes our brother, and friends who occasionally visited in the family.

Full of enthusiasm, Mary, as "Provider," wearing her badge of office — a small baton carved and ornamented with ribbons — set about preparing the Studio. This was situated in an unfinished chamber, the easel, which was of home manufacture, and which, shining with paint of a dark mahogany color, was our especial admiration, standing in a dormerwindow; while conspicuously arranged upon shelves which we had put up were paints, brushes, and a glass pallet, in lieu of the " better one" for which we sighed, but which we were unable to obtain. Around the room hung pictures of all sorts and sizes, among them a life-size portrait of mother, in oils, which had been banished from the parlor, owing to its lack of resemblance to -her in any other respect than that of size. Here and there upon impromptu tables stood vases of flowers, arranged with the rare delicacy native to Mary. A wide bench was placed before another window, upon which was a pile of clay of a peculiar color and consistency, which was finely adapted to our purpose as modelers. The mallet and the chisel lay beside it, and around the walls in its vicinity hung engravings of the Greek Slave, Thorwaldsen's Twelve Apostles, and other celebrated statues. Here we worked with great enthusiasm, but with small results, owing partly to our lack of instruction or supervision. Still, as we often said, no days of childhood were more beautiful in memory, than those which we spent in "The Studio," working with clay, with pencils, or the brush. But our sketching excursions were the most unique occurrences. Picture to yourself a scene like this : An Indian Summer day, with the yellow haze hanging over it like a veil, or like

"The smoky light"

of Bryant's poem ; the woods aflame with the colorings of Autumn; the fields stretching away restfully, their year's work done. Slowly wending their way to the pasture along the river-bank behold two little girls, with sketchbooks under their arms, picturesque caps upon their heads, and bows and arrows in their hands. One of them has, suspended by a ribbon from her neck, a baton, with the word "Provider" painted upon one side. She leads a goat which carries well-filled panniers. Two shepherd dogs walk sedately in the procession. Away down in the pasture, under some great spreading tree, this curious caravan comes to a halt. The panniers are unpacked, their contents proving to be a small basket filled with luncheon, a bottle of spring- water, with a clearcut rye straw to drink through, a ball of twine, a clasp-knife, to be used in exigencies, and a little sketching-stool. While the goat is tethered near a thicket of hazel-bushes the dogs roam here and there, following the trail of a rabbit, or making not very energetic and entirely futile endeavors to unearth a gopher on the hill-side. The girls lean against the friendly trunk of their chosen tree, and talk of the Indian mounds near by ; of the happy hunting-grounds which Indian theology foretells; of Mayne Eeid's hunting -stories; of Eobinson Crusoe and the Swiss Family Eobinson. Sketches are taken ; the luncheon is appropriated ; clusters of purple grapes are plucked from branches that droop over the path ; hazel - nuts are gathered, cracked, and eaten ; while snatches of simple songs and merry laughter tell plainly enough of the happy hearts that are pleased with these rural sports.

Often a stroll is taken among the trees, which usually results in the discovery* of "Jack" — a favorite horse — ruminating, in some sense of the word, among clumps of hazel bushes. When this fortunate discovery is made, one of the young artists gallops home on the horse's back, while the other follows, at leisure, with the caravan.

In a childhood so isolated many would, naturally, be the devices for obtaining amusement. The foregoing scene is given as a specimen.

Time would fail me to recount a tithe of the adventures, the hair -breadth 'scapes, the amusing episodes, the curious conceits of which our childhood was full. The novelty of experiences which every body might relate — prefacing each with the time -honored formula, "When I was young" — is often increased when the resources for amusement are few, and the ingenuity, never more active than in one's early years, is taxed to supply this deficiency. With the exception of one family of children — who were our playmates for a few of the last years at Forest Home, and to whose fertile imaginations we owed the pleasure that many a merry adventure afforded — we were left to ourselves and to our parents for society. To the thoughtful love which sought for a vigorous physical development, and for the cultivation of kindly, truthful characters, instead of priding itself upon a precocious intellect, though at the expense of a suffering and puny frame, we can never be too grateful. With memories stored full of sunshiny days, in which were merry games, strolls through the woods and over the prairies, rides in the fields, work in the garden, we count childhood a sweet and blessed season, and turn with braver and more thankful hearts to face the labor and the weariness which future years shall doubtless bring.

III

"And sometimes, it is even so! The spirit ripens in the germ ; The new-seal'd fountains overflow,

The bright wings tremble in the worm."

Willis.

"And when the soul, struggling to be approved, Says, * Could I love' — and stops, God writeth loved."

MARY was not precocious. 11 First the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear," was the wish of her parents concerning her, and the natural law of her development. At the age of ten she could sew tolerably well, had wrought a " sampler," could play a few tunes and quick-steps on the piano, could sing any thing from "Blue Eyed Mary" to "Dundee," had read the Bible through, knew the Catechism "by heart," and had been introduced, merely, to the three " common branches" of an English education.

Until she was eight years old her mother and the grand old Mother of us all were her only teachers. So well pleased was she with their instructions, and so loth to increase the number of her preceptors, that at the beginning of her school-life she manifested but little zeal in the pursuit of knowledge, and was not in the least ambitious. Unaccustomed to mental application, and loving shady nooks in the garden better than the rough bench at school — caring for birds instead of books, and more familiar with rambling than reading — it is not strange that her first summer at school was a solemn and unhappy season to the little girl, notwithstanding the efforts of her kind teacher to make the time paks pleasantly. Many times each day did tears fall upon the pages of "Pinneo's Primary Grammar," especially where that most uncompromising "list of prepositions" stands arrayed. Often, with the weary foot moving to and fro as time-keeper, have I seen the little tear-stained face turned aside, while in whispered tones she "went through the A's :" " About, above, across," etc. But the mysteries of "Long Division" were her "Slough of Despond" that summer. Often, passing through " mother's room" when study hours were over, I have seen Mary sitting by her side and listening attentively, while her brightening face told that the problem was growing clear to her through the explanation of the only one who never grew tired of the little girl's importunities for help. Once she came bounding out of this room with glowingcheeks, and the brightest smile that she had worn in many days, exclaiming: "Oh, Frank! mother says if I learn to write well, and learn grammar, geography, and something about arithmetic besides, I needn't go to school any more in all my life, if I don't feel like it."

A few years afterward, when Mary had become a diligent and successful student, her mother reminded her of this agreement that had been made between them, saying that in those earlier years she had full faith that by-and-by her little girl would be as fond of solving difficult questions in mathematics as she was then of finding out how many blue jay's eggs there were in the fir-tree nest, or of obtaining an idea concerning the height of the hay-rick by sliding down the sides of the same.

After her mournful apprenticeship at learning Mary was allowed to remain out of school for a year or two ; when, awaking to a sense of her deficiencies, she became clamorous for those very opportunities which had been a source of so much pain to her a little earlier. She was sent to a new school, conducted by

Professor H , a highly-educated gentleman

D of the neighborhood. From the day that he became her teacher she was earnest and untiring in her efforts to acquire an education. Her lessons always demanded her attention first; amusements came afterward.

The conscientiousness that was always prominent in her character and life was particularly marked in her deportment at school. Many pupils seem to regard school regulations as arbitrary strictures unjustly imposed, which must be observed, from motives of policy, while the teacher's eye is upon them, but which are to be utterly disregarded when they are left to act their own will. The fact is painful that it is rare to find a school-girl who will not, under any circumstances, break the smallest regulation: for example — who will not violate the rule that no communicating shall be permitted, by motioning to a fellow-pupil, to point out the lesson for the day, or to pass a book from the opposite side of the desk. Mary never did even this. To her conscience the word " communication" included all means by which an idea might be conveyed from^one mind to another. Surrounded by thoughtless girls, many of whom would speak without permission when they felt sure of escaping detection, she would shake her head, deeming that no violation of rule, since it was but an attestation of her unswerving allegiance to authority. And when, as was occasionally the case, some friend who very seldom transgressed would, in an exigency, make some inquiry of her unpermitted, she would look up regretfully, then, with a smile, would lay her finger on her lip, and cast her eyes upon her book again. Yet, though so rigidly adhering to her views of right, she was so cordial, so helpful toward her schoolmates, so merry in play-hours, that she never inspired the feeling of coldness so often manifested toward the decidedly "good girls" of a school.