'LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. ! * ^ (B^iri^iictrt ^Sonxctrdiooh. Life of M.rs. jVL. K. Events, JFh?>& < INTRODUCTION. " A perfect Woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command ; And yet a spirit, still and bright, With' something of an angel light." . " Her children arise up and call her blessed. Her husband, also and he praiseth her." CHICAGO: CHURCH AND GOODMAN, 1868 3xy ,£?sW7 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1307, By CHURCH AND GOODMAN, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the District of Northern Illinois. Chukch, Goodman and Donnelley, John Conaran, PaorrBRS, Stereotyper, 10S and 110 Dearborn Street. 90 Washington Street. f REFACE. jJIOGRAPHY, as compared with Romance, labors under some difadvantage. The latter maj ignore faults, borrow angelic virtues, group in a lingle character every grace and charm, and weave a plot of circumftance that will develop every power, exhibit each beauty. But Biography deals with a humanity that mares our common nature, — is limited to the delineation of poffible virtue, and real, inftead of fuppofable, events. Thus real hiftory may never bring forth " fo true a lover as Theogones ; fo conftant a friend as Pylades ; fo valiant a man as Orlando ; fo right a prince as Cyrus ; and fo excellent a man in everyway as Virgil's ./Eneas." But if Hiftory is " Philofophy teaching by example," then we need Biographies to teach the world the phi- lofophy of life, of felf control, of achievement, of en- durance, of fuccefs ; and the detailed character of the noble, the good, are worth to the world more than iv. ^Preface. any poffible conception of the ideal. The individual hiftory of fuch men as Wafhington or Lincoln affect the public mind more than the moft illuftrlous heroes of Romance ; and it is perhaps truly alleged that the life of Chrift is more powerful to convince the judg- ment, and influence the will, than even the attefta- tion of his miracles and wonderful utterances. Yet falfe ftandards of greatnefs have bewildered the judgment and mifled the confcience of the world, and while meretricious and fuperficial characteriftics have been exalted, fuperior virtues are ignored and forgot- ten. Mental balance and moral power rife higher in the true fcale of being than genius. The man Chrift Jefus might have chosen the higheftrank in literature, philofophy, or empire, but in refplendent philanthro- py he left us a conception of god-like virtue outweigh- ing worldly diftinctions. Although Mrs. Everts' education was early inter- rupted, and her whole life burdened with active duties and heavy cares, the variety and extent of her labors prove her endowments to have been of a rare order, and that, with leifure, fhe might have won reputa- tion for mental superiority. But, in our loving eftimation, fhe rofe far above litterateur, artift, or lyric queen, in her humble ap- proach to Chrift's life, — me gained the diftinction of rare virtue, of true philanthropy. But fome may afk why we intrude a private life upon the public ear. The leffons drawn from fimple individual experience are moft pertinent and capable of practical application. We may admire the heroifm and capacity by which a man of humble origin rifes ^Preface. v. to become the faviour of his country in great crifes ; but our neighbor who fhelters the homelefs, and re- claims the erring, incites us to emulation as well as admiration — for we may grafp fuch opportunities, a like work lies at our door. There is a keen fenfe of fatisfaction in the reflection that truth, inftead of marring the fymmetry, is the only embellifhment of the following hiftory. Without difguife, as free from exaggeration as impartial criti- cifm could fuggeft, its effectivenefs depends folely upon its faithfulnefs. But how bold the attempt to write the hiftory of a life, to mirror the many days of each year, with their diftinctive work and phafes of feeling. The tafk faithfully performed, will but re- femble the fcene " On 'Change," where the merchant confummates the fale of a cargo that heavily freights the veffel, with but the fample that he carries in a lit- tle box. Or the fign-poft, on the roadfide, whofe index-finger points the way, round the mountain-fide, through the valley, and over the river, but can not tell the traveler of the little inn where refrefhment waits, of the bit of woodland the road fkirts, or the quiet beauty of a Iheltered lake. No ambitious attempt at book-making would have infpired this volume, but the burden of a facred truft, and the courage of a lofty purpofe. She did not be- long exclusively to one church or one denomination ; but, as a judicious friend remarks, "Her life affords a leffon for the next generation." She was not a woman of one fhining gift — the could not be ranked with the few whofe genius characterizes an age. Nor did the circumftances of her life remove her from the vi. "Preface. ordinary routine which conftitutes the life of moft of her fex. But in entire confecration her daily walk became a facrificial life ; and if in a ftudy of its record any learn the beauty and dignity of Chriftian Woman- hood, then fhe, "being dead, ihall yet fpeak." The onenefs of aim and intereft in Mrs. E.'s relation with her hufband can hardly be overftated. Not only through the enthufiafm of affection, but by the intereft of a co-laborer was this unity perfected. Jointly with him fhe wrought : her life of action, thought and feel- ing was identical with his own ; and for this reafon, the narration of her life neceffitates the frequent no- tice of her hufband's labors. Although the limited choice of correfpondents from whom we gain the moft of Mrs. E.'s letters are not exhauftive of her friendfhips, they ferve as types each of a clafs. Mifs S. was the friend of almost her life- time. Affociated intimately with her early remem- brances, a peculiar tendernefs guarded their inter- courfe. During her laft illnefs, after many fleeplefs days and nights, with intenfe wearinefs in look and voice, fhe said. " If I get well, I mnjl reft. Perhaps E. S. will want me to come to her." Mr. P. was the friend who. during Mr. Everts' failing health, more, perhaps, than any other, advifed and furthered the voyage and travel which promifed reftoration ; and, during his enforced abfence, was unfailing in thought- ful kindnefs for the lonely family. The moiftened eye often attefted her grateful appreciation of his almoft brotherly kindnefs. Mrs. P., a fouthern woman, of decided character and ability, was the warm perfonal friend of her later years. Although each was diftin- ^Preface. vii. guifhed by peculiarity of birth and education, yet there was a congeniality which afferted itfelf, and the generous affection which, in time of trial, only clung the clofer, was dearly prized. Mrs. Everts' character fupplied to her hufband, the ftudy on Chriftian Womanhood which introduces the ftory of her life. Thus fuggefted, revived and deliv- ered as a difcourfe, in the tender gratitude of an ex- pected convalefcence during her laft illnefs, it became the husjband's fitteft offering to the memory of a faint- ed wife. E. E. WRENN. Contents. . INTRODUCTION. PAGE I. Condition of Woman - - - - 5 II. Physical Culture ----- 9 III. Intellectual Culture - 16 IV. Domestic Culture ----- 23 V. Spiritual Culture - - - - 31 VI. Our Friends in Heaven - - - 51 LIFE OF MRS. M. K. EVERTS. I. Parentage and Childhood 63 II. Christian Profession 68 III. Budding Christian Character 73 IV. Mother's Death 86 V. Established Character -* - 98 VI. Marriage and Removal - - - - 121 VII. A New Home ----- I2 8 VIII. Home Life ------ 139 IX. Shadow on the Hearth - 148 Contents, PAGE X. Shadow and Sunshine - 171 XI. The Country Home - - - - 179 XII. Busy and Anxious days - 190 XIII. The Southern Home - - - 203 XIV. Pleasant Years 208 XV. Time and Change 220 XVI. The Last Home 234 XVII. Mistress, Wife, and Mother - 244 XVIII. Church Life 252 XIX. Public Life ------ 260 XX. Scattered Leaves - - - - - 271 XXI. The Last of Earth 333 XXII. Funeral Wreath 348 CHRISTIAN WOMANHOOD. Condition of Woman. "The Christian religion alone presents woman to man as a companion; every other abandons her to him as a slave." fERFECTED womanhood, where I shall we find it ? ]Not in history. From earliest ages, in the East, man might sell his wife into slavery, or even adjudge her to death. Still, in India, by law and tradition, she is denied social equality with man. She may not promenade the city, or walk the coun- try, without special permission and atten- dance. She may not sit at a feast, or ap- 6 Christian Woma?i?iood. pear on any public occasion. At the fam- ily meal she stands obsequiously behind husband or son as servant, and satisfies her dignity and hunger with the remains of the repast. In Western Asia she has long been a conspicuous article of commerce, and a make-weight in diplomacy. In Africa she is sold for cowries, as a dog or a sheep. In the Russian language, soul designates male slave, as if woman was not worth counting in property. A nobleman was worth so many souls — that is, male servants. Not even in the most .pretentious civili- zation, ancient or modern, do we find a perfected womanhood. Syria, Babylon, Egypt, Greece, have not bequeathed it to the world. Rome, which conquered the world three times — once by its arms, once by its language, and once by its religion — could hardly name one truly noble woman for each century of its supremacy, and has furnished no example of woman's ideal ex- cellence. And, while modern civilization has failed to raise woman to possible per- fection, among the lower classes, she is still Condition of Woman. 7 the servant and drudge of man. In parts of Europe she is devoted to menial em- ployments of the field, sometimes har- nessed, to plow or drag, with ox or ass. In large cities she is left to almost hopeless degradation. In London alone there are supposed to be forty thousand needle-wo- men, living but one degree above the star- vation point. And in cities of this coun- try, the proportion of suffering, as of vicious women, is almost as great. Nor do we find our ideal of womanhood yet represented by art. Whether in the sculptor's Eve or Yenus, the lovely Slave or the glorious Zenobia, or in the painter's conception of Madonna or Magdalen, the Sancta Csecilia or Beatrice; however beau- tiful these in themselves, assimilated to the materialism of the artist and the age, they have not satisfied the search for the model woman. Nor hitherto in the annals of the Church has that female perfection been disclosed. Though the Hebrews were exalted above cotemporary nations, a collector of biogra- phy has found among the inspired annals 8 Christian Womanliood . only eighteen worthy of notice ; and even among these were embraced such doubtful characters as Jezebel and the Witch of Endor. In the New Testament, none are distinguished for genius, intellectual cul- ture or art, and only some half dozen for the higher qualifications of piety and cha- rity. Immature religious beliefs, even Sweden- borgianism in its poetic mysticism, Atheism itself, have incorporated as a creed, or sug- gested the future of a perfected and glori- fied womanhood. Compte, the French atheist, says, " We only want, and shall have, the glory of woman to worship." This longing of humanity, thus voiced in faith, we shall only find realized in the new prophecies of human progress and woman- ly development, awakened by Christianity. In Christian womanhood perfection may be sought — will be attained. n. Physical Cultuf^e. The body is the mind's casket; in normal condition it guards and displays the jewel; disordered or enfeebled, it exposes it to be tarnished or destroyed. [HKISTTAN womanhood must be developed through normal physi- cal culture. The Kose springs up 1 from the ground ; by untraced processes derives its beauty and fragrance from earthly mould, and is lifted up into the air, and held firm against wind and tempest, by a homely stalk rooted in the soil. Forgetting its lowly dependence, it droops and dies in an hour ; or its commu- nication with the earth impaired, propor- tionately loses beauty and fragrance. So the human soul rises into being through earthly media, spreads the first tender leaves of thought, sentiment, and feeling 1* io Christian Womanhood, over the surface of material life. And though rising toward heaven in intellectual stature and moral elevation, its dependence upon the body is as constant and vital as that of tree or flower upon the ground for the nourishment of stalk, stamen, calyx, petal, color, or fragrance. The floral system is not more affected by climate, soil, and diversity of culture, than material beauty and graces of woman- hood by varying physical conditions. The Dandelion, Hollyhock, or Sunflower are not farther removed from the beauty of Lily, Rose, or queenly Magnolia, than the average character of womanhood from its ideal conception. Through long ages, over dark lands, the flower of womanhood has been dwarfed, paled, and scentless. And even in civilized nations, its beauty and fragrance have been but partially develop- ed. With some, styles of dress stifle respi- ration, confine the motions, and expose the most sensitive parts of the body. With others, unseasonable or stimulating diet taxes digestion, inflames the blood, engen- ders or aggravates functional disorders. ?P?iy steal Culture, \\ "With others, want of exercise enfeebles the pulse, renders languid the circulation, and brings on nervous irritability or prostra- tion. While with others, unsuitable em- ployments or dissipating amusements over* tax the vital powers, and precipitate decline^ consumption, and death. All these evils impair the strength and beauty of womanhood, and hasten at once the decay of her charms and her life. The preceptress of one of the largest female seminaries in an Eastern city, recently, in deploring the neglect of physical culture in female education, said there was scarcely one of the whole number of her pupils who might not be regarded as a fit subject for medical treatment. We fear a careful examination, one by one, of all our schools and families would lead to the same sad report. *' 111 health is so much the normal condi- tion of feminine existence here," says a public writer, " that many women, who have never had a well day in their lives, actually declare and believe themselves healthy. Let them apply to themselves 12 Christian Womanhood. the test of a celebrated physician: 'A healthy woman/ says Dr. Meigs, ' has no experimental knowledge of back, sides, head, lungs, stomach, liver, or any other organ ; she is conscious of herself only as one perfect) elastic, and life-enjoying whole!'" A generation of slaves in Cuba, it is esti- mated, is killed off by work in seven years. Generations of women are as surely, if not as rapidly, killed off by the accomplish- ments, fashions, and follies of modern civilization, and ignorance and disregard of the laws of life. Compare granddaugh- ters with grandmothers in stature, develop- ment, erectness, power of endurance, and probability of long life. Tapering down at the present rate, the race would soon vanish altogether, but for the grafting in of healthier stock from humbler life, the transfer of plebeian blood through aristo- cratic veins. As the Roman empire was recuperated by the incorporation of a hardier stock of barbarians ; as cities derive fresh material of health and vitality from rural and moun- ^Physical Culture. 13 tain districts, so the vigor of effeminate peoples is ever recuperated from hardier races. Anakim children of hard-working laborers come up every two or three gene- rations, with their great heads and strong arms, like Gullivers among Lilliputians, and pluck away all the wealth, honors, and prizes of life from descendants of degene- rate races. "With fewer intellectual and moral .achievements, and enfeebled health, is lost the happiness of life. 1 1 Now Spring returns, but not to me return The vernal joys my better years have known. Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns, And all the joys of life with health have fled." In seeking the development of a true womanhood of the individual and of the race, there must be a primary and due re- gard to physical culture. The blooming cheek, the developed form, the elastic step, the commanding mien, softened to grace- fulness ; the flowing spirits lighting up the countenance with joy, and ringing out in the merry laugh; and even power of en- durance, noble purpose and lofty achieve- 14 Christian Woma7i?iood, nient, entering so largely into our ideal conception .of woman, confirming to her that power that " rules the camp, the court, the grove ;" are mediately the gift of health. Its subversion is like removing the founda- tion of a graceful temple, precipitating it into shapeless ruins. This higher physical culture is due to woman's own well-being, achievement, and happiness. Why should she pine so soon in faded loveliness ? Why tenant so early the sick-room darkened with sorrows — the dying chamber shaded with gloom ? It is also due to the well-being and happi- ness of man. Why should he so soon be bereft of her companionship and solace? Why left so soon to cast his shadow alone on the hillside of life ? But it is preemi- nently due to the elevation and progress of the race. Spurzheim, the distinguished naturalist, declares that the physical culture of woman is more important to the welfare of the race, than that of man. From en- feebled mothers will be born a degenerate race. With increasing vitality in women, and progressive application of the laws of Physical Culture. \$ life, the race may rise to hardier character and greater power. The little girl may more surely be trained up in healthy devel- opment, or recovered from deformed bias or sickly condition, than tree or plant, and endowed with strength for the duties and pleasures of a true life. As this culture advances, we may oftener admire in the parlor, the health still bloom- ing in the kitchen ; in the higher walks of life, the freshness and vigor still manifested among the industrious poor ; among Amer- ican ladies, the more developed form and ruddier m cheek adorning English women. Then, in physical endowment, as of the most distinguished matrons of Greece and Rome, and the most worthy mothers of England and the Eepublic, will be laid the foundation for longer life, and more distin- guished intellectual and moral achievement. Then woman, and the race, commencing from these rudiments of being, may rise to their destined greatness, glory, and hap- piness. rn. Intellectual Culture. 11 A soul without reflection, like a pile without inhab- tant, to ruin runs." IHRISTIAN womanhood must also be attained through a varied intellectual culture. Woman's capacity for varied mental de- velopment and achievement requires no proof. Hypatia, while in the bloom of her beauty, declared the first philosopher of her age ; Eudocia, who found leisure amid re- gal dignities, for cultivating philosophy and rhetoric; Zenobia, Marie Theresa and Elizabeth, great in Empire; Madame Ro- land and De Stael, peers of the social phi- losophers of their time ; Mrs. Sommerville and Caroline Herschel, illustrious in sci- ence; Rosa Bonheur and Miss Hosmer, eminent in art; Mrs. Browning, our " fe- Intellectual Culture. • l 7 male Milton;" Siddons and Bachel, queens of the stage; Jenny Lind, the incompara- ble songstress; and now the remarkable young orator, Anna Dickinson ; all attest her varied mental endowments. And yet woman has never been encouraged to de- velopment. These attained fame only through the inherent power of genius, with unusual aids of cultivation and appre- ciation. We will never know of the " mute, inglorious Miltons," the embryo scholars, painters and philosophers, that the world has lost, through cramping cir- cumstance and chilling neglect. Woman has been ranked scarcely above the birds of brilliant plumage or beautiful song, fit for the gilded cage in the boudoir; the graceful swan that sails in the garden lake ; or the deer that may gambol at pleasure in the enclosed woodland. The debasement of women is enforced primarily by denying her that develop- ment of reason which could assert her rights, and redress her wrongs. Woman's education in the East has been confined to those superficial accomplishments of beau- 2 18 Christian Womanhood. ty, graceful manners, and arts of fascina- tion, which might adapt her to please man, but not such as to inspire a sense of indi- vidual rights and responsibility. When missionaries remonstrate against such dis- trust of mental culture, they are told, " Education does very well for English or American women, but not for ours. They would cease to be contented and subordi- nate." Thus their eyes are put out that they may not explore ways of escape from their social condition. The standard of female education in modern and Christian nations has been too far assimilated to the views of the oriental defamers and oppressors of woman. Too many, now, believe woman is perfectly de- veloped by fine figure, fine complexion, fine manners, fashionable dress, and other showy accomplishments, though the mind is left unfurnished. By disproportioned at- tention to this order of culture, they seem to despise mental endowments and acquisi- tions of knowledge. When following the Eoman army in a war against Persia, the rude German soldiery were pillaging the Intellectual Culture. *9 royal tents of Parses, they were filled with wonder at the luxurious and elegant arts of the East, but they were ignorant of the value of the most precious of the spoils. The shining leather bag that contained the precious pearls of the king, they greatly admired and cherished as an elegant and useful trophy, but the pearls it contained they scattered on the ground as useless pebbles. So, many dazzled with the exter- nal investiture and adornments of wo- manly character, appreciate not the pearls of intellectual and moral endowment. Trained under these false views, many a beautiful young lady can carry free and animated conversation no further than the gossip of the daily press, the last fashion- plate, or some recent development of scan- dal. For such the poet has already pre- pared an epitaph : 11 Here lies, now a prey to insulting neglect, What once was a butterfly, gay in life's beam; Want, only of wisdom, denied her respect, Want, only of goodness, denied her esteem. 20 Christian Womanhood. Now a higher order of intellectual cul- ture is opening to woman the elevated and refining pleasures of knowledge and art. She will have sources of contentment and happiness within herself, protecting her from the temptations of seeking all enjoy- ment abroad. And beyond the supple- ment of her pleasures, she needs such cul- ture to fit her for her mission and useful- ness. If the classics enrich and embellish the mind, she requires these advantages as well as man. If mathematics strengthen the reason, correct the judgment, and free from the delusions of fancy, woman re- quires such rectitude of understanding, and regulation of fancy, as well as man. But as the providential teacher of the world, high culture is especially important. An Indian chief said, in the early efforts to evangelize his tribe, the missionaries in- structed the boys. But as they grew up and married uneducated girls, they relapsed into barbarism with their families. "Now," he says, " we educate the girls, and they, educating the rising generation, the whole tribe advances in civilization. " Intellectual Culture, 21 Gradually higher and juster views of woman's education obtain. A more lib- eral culture is produced in common schools and higher seminaries; and Yassar College is a way mark of progress. The idea is be- coming rooted in the public mind, that a thoroughly educated woman is not only ornamental but useful ; that her cultivated resources are not only to refine but may also instruct- society; that she may influ- ence votes, if not at the ballot-box, yet by the intelligent use of her intuitions and the exercise of her reasonable influence ; that she may aspire to professions and forms of business long closed to her igno- rance, thus raising herself beyond disaster, or the belittlements of idleness ; that she may use and guard property intelligently ; in short, that she may be a thinking and working partner in the great business of life. Thorough and varied education is to solve the social problems of woman's life, .her work, her influence, her rights; which have engrossed attention, provoked discus- sion, and even stormy debate. 22 Christian WomanJiood . Woman's education furnishes a scale on which to measure the progress of civiliza- tion. When Antony, after returning from Egypt, was discoursing to the Roman no- bles of its peculiarities, he is reported as saying : " Thus do they, sires — they take the plane of the Nile by certain scales of the pyramids, and they know by the height, lowness or mean, whether dearth or foison follow. The higher Nilus swelleth, the more it promiseth." Female education ia the Oleometer of society. It gauges the comparative advancement of individuals, nations, ages. The higher it rises in intel- lectual and moral tone, the further it reaches, in invigorating influence, the wider and more affluent harvests of know- ledge, virtue and happiness. IV. Domestic Culture. * ' The modest virgin, the prudent wife, or the careful matron, are much more serviceable in life than petticoated philosophers, blustering heroines, or virago queens. She who makes her husband and children happy, who reclaims the one from vice, and trains up the other to virtue, is a much greater character than ladies described in romance." I1KUE womanhood must be authen- I ticated through industrial skill and occupation in the family. Industry is the necessity of most women — the duty of all. The family is the primary and most important sphere of her employment. The order of the house- hold is peculiarly confided to woman, as husbandry of field, manufactures, com- merce, and civil affairs, to man. Ignorance of Blackstone, or the Constitution and laws of a Commonwealth, does not more surely disqualify one for the practice of law ; or 24 Christian Womanhood, ignorance of physiology, diagnosis of dis- ease, and efficiency of remedies, for the practice of medicine ; or ignorance of Scrip- tures, theological institutes, and church history, for profession of religious teachers, than ignorance of household economy in- capacitates woman for her appointed sphere and occupation. It may be that Providence denies some women the headship of a home, but it is none the less her peculiar mission to carry the atmosphere of sweet homeliness with her, wherever she is — in the traveler's tent, or the crowded hotel, the invalid chamber, or the neglected nursery, as teacher, friend, sister, or aunt, it is her privilege to tax her ingenuity and use her deft fingers for the nameless and numberless little acts which serve, as the garden paling on the moun- tain side, to enclose home-cheer from world's desolation. In portraying the model woman of the patriarchal ages, Solomon, passing over highly appreciated accomplishments, gives singular prominence to domestic industry and skill; "She seeketh wool, and flax, domestic Culture. 25 and worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchants' ships ; she bring- eth her food from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maid- ens. * * * She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretcheth out her hands to the poor ; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household : for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry ; her clothing is silk and purple." The model woman of the ancient Rom- ans was also distinguished by the same domestic virtues. It was customary for the bride to be escorted to the house of her husband by a retinue of friends, and among these, one bearing a spindle and distaff. Upon their approach, being interrogated : " Who comes there ?" in attestation of the received standard of womanly accom- plishments, their answer was : " Caia," in memory of " Caia " Csecilia, wife of Tar- 2* 26 Christian Womanhood. quin the Elder, celebrated for her habits of industry and virtue. The most honored women of succeeding ages, and all lands, have possessed the same accomplishments ; and, instead of being ashamed of labor, have gloried in indus- trial accomplishments. Madame De Stael, upon being complimented for her skill on the guitar, answered : " It is not for such things that I value myself, but that I have the command of fourteen several occupa- tions, by either one of which I could main- tain my independence." When Lafayette last visited this country, he found the mother of Washington in the field, super- intending the affairs of the farm ; and all the worthy mothers of the Revolution knew how to order their houses, so as to make them conservators of happiness, virtue, and greatness ; and prevent the nameless evils of ennui, discontent, and dissipation. These employments furnish a recreation for mind and body, which are in the high- est degree healthful and enlivening, while the moral effect is not the least advantage. The fact of working for the benefit of others, Domestic Culture. 2 7 the family community, tends to overcome the taint of selfishness in our nature, and refines what might seem drudgery and too wearing care, into a noble phase of life's work. Domestic responsibilities also guard the relation of mistress and servant from ignorant abuse, securing the one from op- pression, the other from imposition. Domestic taste and ability are not only valuable in the prosperous course of daily life, but in the sudden disaster of commer- cial revulsions, when suffering under the blight of business frauds — perhaps the vic- tim of some terrible casualty, or smitten by wasting disease — afflicted by any one of the causes which so frequently embarrass the husband and father, the wife or daugh- ter who, besides the heroism for sacrifice, has the trained capacity that will lighten exertion, the judgment and economy that . can multiply resources, may be the saviour of her family honor and happiness. A few years ago, a Fifth Avenue merchant made an assignment. Sadly he returned that night to break the dreadful secret to his wife. Endowed with practical sense, and 28 Christian Womanhood, accomplished in household economy, as well as with an affectionate heart, she threw her arms around her husband's neck, and cheered him with assurances of her sympa- thy and hope. " It will all turn out for the best. We can live most comfortably in a small house, in a quiet country place. I can wash, iron, and bake, make garments for the children, besides doing something for those poorer than ourselves." The bankrupt took heart and hope, and the family saved from social and moral wreck — far more serious than pecuniary ruin. In this sphere true womanhood must be developed ; manifested through her primal duties, reflected from domestic virtues and accomplishments. It is more important that she be faithful at home than shine abroad, receive the benedictions of parents than the flattery of strangers, the caresses of brothers and sisters than the compli- ments of the selfish and designing world. "We should go to the home-circle, and not to the assembly-room, the party, the water- ing-place, to ascertain the rank and worth of woman. The mother's diploma is more ^Domestic Culture. 29 important than the preceptor's; standing at home, than abroad. Disdaining her appointed sphere, and neglecting or poorly attending to her pro- per duties, woman can not attain the high- est excellence and destiny of her being. But, faithful in her providential home, be it never so homely, she can make it an Eden. Though a small estate is enclosed, a small cot is reared upon it, let industry and taste adorn and furnish it ; and while the rose and the honeysuckle are trained over its walls, let peace and contentment dwell within, and light up every day with joy and hope, and woman's highest mission is accomplished. "What greater work can she do than pro- vide homes for the race ? As they are bet- ter ordered, adorned, and rendered more happy, humanity advances by surest steps of progress. " She who applies her mili- tary instincts to the discipline of her house- hold; her legislative faculties in making laws for the nursery ; whose intellect and ambition have scope enough, in common with her husband, in seeking the improve- 3° C?irislicm Womanhood, ment of her children ; who does not think it a weakness to attend to her toilet, and does not disdain to be beautiful ; who has faith in the virtue of glossy hair and well- fitting gowns ; who speaks little, and not with assumption ; who is patient and gen- tle, and adjusts with a smile, instead of reasoning or scoldiug ; who is the wife we have all dreamed of once in our lives, and who is the mother we still worship in the backward distance of the past, is the true woman, acting more for humanity — for woman's cause — than all the captains, bar- risters, judges, or members of Congress in the land." It is in the family that woman may mend the vices of society in the detail, and build up the virtues of humanity in their indestructible principles and comple- mental order. V. Spiritual Cult/uf^e u So free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it as a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested." |EUE womanhood attains perfect development through spiritual culture. It is only in this high- er phase of development that woman receives the crown of her sex's glory and dominion, only as the arbiter of heart and conscience can she assume the power she inherits by divine right — of ruling the race. The culture that will fully develop woman's spiritual nature must he of three-fold character, regarding her, first, as the Natural Dispenser of Chari- ty ; second, as the Conservator of Conscience; third, as the Priestess of Religion. 32 Christian WomauJiood '. Man's charity is excited by conscience, example and appeal, but woman's is intui- tive, spontaneous, perpetual. Distress may arrest man's attention ; it could not escape woman's. Priest and Levite may pass by without relieving humanity, wounded and bleeding by the wayside : woman never. "Woman's love, free, disinterested and per- sistent, surpasses all limits of character, class or condition, equals the emergencies of necessity or suffering, and in imminent danger becomes heroic and daring. Almost a whole village had assembled to see the pulling down of an old church, to give place to a more tasteful structure. The ropes had been fastened to the spire, and as it swayed to and fro under the strain of the ropes, a lone white dove was seen flying round and round as if instinc- tively apprehending the impending danger, but not daring to fly in to shelter her im- periled brood. As it reeled and tottered to the fall, the distress of the bird hushed the shouts and riveted the gaze of the men at the ropes below. As, at length, the tim- bers gave way, and the old steeple began to Spiritual Culture. 33 fall, the dove poised a moment on her wings and then darted up into it out of sight, to protect or share the ruin of her young. Amid the wreck of timbers and fragments of a dove-cote, was found the poor dove lying between her two young ones — all three dead. The genius of wo- man's charity is this lone dove. Over hu- manity in its doomed dwelling, tottering in weakness, trouble and sin, the white- winged guardian hovers. She claims as her brood the defenceless, the suffering; and true to her instinct of unselfish devo- tion, she will sacrifice herself for the ob- jects of her love and care. Mrs. Fry, in her prison labors ; Florence Nightingale, among the sick and dying sol- diers; Miss Dix, providing asylums for the insane ; these notably illustrate the b'eauty and heroism of woman's charity, and may serve to remind us of others who, in a smaller sphere, have contributed their all of labor and influence for the amelioration of distress. Many noble women during our late war, sacrificed ease, even comfort and health, to their ministry of love in 3 34 Christian Woman?iood \ hospital wards, in army tents, or m the home-work. They wrought quietly, and history will treasure but a few names; but the savor of their good deeds has newly perfumed the name of woman in our gen- eration. One young lady, the daughter of wealth, gave up her whole time to work for and amoug the hospitals of her city. It was but a succession of little offices that busied her days, and often wore into the weary nights. The daily walk between the long lines of cots, with a smile and a word, a flower maybe, or a book, the pro- mised delicacy for a craving appetite, while she lingers here and there to catch requests for some homely comfort, or pauses longer to write a letter or take a message. The surgeons who witnessed her labors, con- fessed that her success lay beyond their skill. . We all remember the dying boy in one of our western hospitals, who, in reply to the inquiry, " Can I do any thing for you?" answered, "Only kiss me." He longed for the outward token of that love which he recognized as sacred, kindred to the mother-love which had never failed him. Spiritual Culture. 35 Woman's sympathy is the vital principle of all our benevolence, as she sways the heart of man, refining to tenderness his ruder feelings, he emulates her virtues in rearing asylums for the afflicted, and re- treats for those past life's work or pleasure. To her own hands are entrusted the ad- ministration of our tenderest charities, to provide homes for the aged, the orphan, the friendless, the erring. Study the re- cords of such institutions, and you will find women are not only the nominal, but the real founders; the committees, the acting officers, all are women; and often the endowment is the gift of a woman's loving heart. Woman recognizes her fit- ness for such work by the enthusiasm these labors kindle in her own heart, and the success to which they attain under her care ; it is while thus engaged man sees in her his highest ideal of " the beautiful, the true, and the good." If such, then, is woman's God-given na- ture, selfishness seems a strange and vio- lent perversion of the character. When she, who was appointed to live so much for 36 Christian Womanhood. others, lives for self, how base the degra- dation ! ' ' "Whose wish to serve Is circumscribed within the bounds Of self — a narrow, miserable sphere. To trill of us and ours, of mine and me, Our horse and coach, our friends, our family, While the excluded circle sit in pain, And glance their cool contempt, or fierce disdain." Christ, our universal exemplar, is pecu- liarly the model of female excellence; and her noblest eulogy must be the words spo- ken of her Master, " He went about doing good." Woman is also destined to be the Con- servator of Conscience. Her position as mother, invested with an authority none questions over those who, in their time, are to make and wield laws ; as wife and sister who, in the shelter of home, can more readily adjust questions of right, removed from the shock of the world's jar and crime; and chiefly, in her womanly character, with her moral susceptibility, her almost intui- tive perception of right and wrong, her tenderness, which so clothes the just claims Spiritual Culture, 37 of duty that they may win, as well as com- mand, man's attention : these considerations emphatically mark her place as moral guar- dian of the race. \ There are few men, perhaps, but that can look back to some moral crisis of their lives, when, perplexed with the sophistries of evil, harassed by the responsibilities of decision, wavering with the longings of desire, wishing for a human helper, they have turned to the true-hearted wife, the wise sister; or, backward in memory, to the counsels of a mother, who, by example and precept, taught inviolate allegiance to duty. Life reenacts Fenelon's parable of Telemachus ; and the boy, the youth, the man, is followed by the faithful mentor, which, taking human form, is "Woman, who, in her general character, or as en- deared by love, guides through temptation, and inspires hope in a future of honor and happiness. In one of the little villages among the Green Mountains, a boy had grown up, chafing at the quiet monotony of his daily life, and longing for the freedom of the 38 Christian Womanhood. sea. His widowed mother at length gave a reluctant consent — her heart full of fore- boding. For a last look, a last embrace, she followed him down the garden slope, and there, as they paused, while tears fell fast, the mother asked from the boy a pledge that he would never drink. Soften- ed, trembling, the boy gave his solemn promise. Through long voyages, no plea of friendship, or necessary comfort, tempt- ed him ; no urgency of good-fellowship drew him into the carousals while in port ; his mother, her love, her tears, the promise registered within sight of his native moun- tains — these memories followed him — saved him. Once, in a foreign port, an American sailor came on board, drunken and friendless. Our hero took him in charge, cared for his comfort, then told the story of his mother's love, and the parting promise. Touched by the pathos and truth of this recital, the poor man caught at the hope of reform, and willingly pledged him- self to total abstinence. Years later, a gen- tleman called at the counting-house of a wealthy merchant in Xew York. That Spirihial Culture, 39 day, the New York merchant, and the cap- tain of a Liverpool packet, dined together — the Green Mountain boy and the re- claimed inebriate. Long they talked over the past, the present, the hopes for the future, tracing the virtue, honor, and pros- perity of their lives to the pledging influ- ence of that faithful mother among the mountains. The resolution that decided a boy, al- ready embarking for his place on the wait- ing vessel, to go back to his home, was the memory of a sorrowing mother ; and thus George Washington was saved to become the ruler of our armies, the father of our nation, while he ever ascribed his useful- ness to the mighty influence of a mother's counsels and guardianship. The younger Adams, one of the most upright and pure of American statesmen, said : " What I am, and what I hope to be, I owe, under God, to my mother." Our late President, in con- fidential intercourse, said: " Billy, all I am, or can be, I owe to my angel-mother." Garibaldi traces his conviction of duty to his mother, whose image has followed him 4_o Christian Wo??ianhood. as a guardian angel, amid storms of ocean, the lightning gleam of swords, and iron hail of battle. Such mothers do not stand alone ; they are known to us also; women who ha/e, single-handed, saved their families from moral ruin, often in the face of evil exam- ple, and the danger of wicked patronage and counsels. These are the world's re- formers ; their influence permeates society, vitalizing conscience, toning up the moral sense, and inspiring virtue through all classes. It precipitates and emboldens all conflicts with evil ; helps and hastens the victory. In conquering an age, a country, a city, a generation, a soul, to virtue, there is truer glory than all the battles from Thermopylae to Waterloo ; and the evil rife in all lands, and under all governments, that no human law can remedy, the influ- ence of woman upon our conscience, morals, and law, can obviate. "Woman is preeminently the Priestess of Religion. In the practice of the ancient Roman faith, the temple was confided to woman's care. She fed the altar-fire, whose Spirihial Culture. 41 constant flame commanded her ceaseless vigilance. This ministry of religion but symbolizes the great truth of woman's mis- sion and influence. As she fed the sym- bolic fire of the altar, so she nourishes the flame of devotion in the heart of man, and in the temples of religion. Remitting her vigilance, the sacred fire would die from heart and temple. Woman's superiority to man is of the heart, and religion has its seat in the heart; hence, the eminence of her religious ca- pacity and power. She is more largely endowed with those principles specially brought into exercise in religious experi- ence, than man. She is more confiding ; it is her nature to believe, and faith is the substance of religion. She is more affec- tionate ; it is her nature to love, and love is the passion of religion. Thus her nature and organization define her position. In sacred Scripture, her priesthood is as clear- ly recognized as that of Aaron, or any modern ministry. The names of Miriam, Deborah, and Anna, the prophetess ; of Typhena and Typhosa, who labored in the 3* 42 C?i7-istian Womanhood, Lord; of Dorcas; of Priscilla, Paul's help- er; Mary, who bestowed much labor on the Apostles ; of Phoebe, the servant of the Church — are honorably mentioned. Last at the cross, and first at the sepulchre, in various ministry, woman attested superior devotion, and in every age has pledged man to faith and God. In her abounding confidence, the faith of the world is perpetuated. Hannah nourished the faith of a Samuel ; Lois and Eunice, a Timothy; the pious Norma, a Gregory ; Anthusia, a Chrysostom ; Mon- ica, an Augustine. When the Prince of Orange was perplexed and desponding, while plots thickened around him, intrigue and bribery were rife, misfortune spread gloom over the land, his noble mother soothed and cheered him in the pursuit of his great mission by her words of lofty faith and tenderness : " I trust my heart's lord and son will be supported by Divine grace to do nothing against God and his own soul's salvation. It is better to lose the temporal than the eternal." The eccentric Randolph said: "I have been a French Spiritual Culture. 43 politician, and I should have been a French infidel, had not my mother often taken me, when a little child, into the closet, and, kneeling beside me with her hand on my head, taught me to say, * Our Father who art in heaven/ " So pious mothers foster more piety than creeds, books, and preach- ers. Nor is woman less prominent in measures for spreading the gospel. But for her in- fluence, how often would the family altar be abandoned, the prayer-meeting neglect- ed, the Church disbanded, Sunday schools given up. Encouraging the missionary spirit, she has not hesitated to offer herself, and bequeathed us some of the brightest names on our mission annals, as the Jud- sons, Newell, Comstock, and Vinton. Some of the most important and characteristic missions of Christianity she has instituted herself. Miss Rhenard has recently devel- oped the grand movement of Bible readers in London, and now in other cities of the kingdom. Miss Marsh has originated and is sustaining, with wonderful success, a mission to railroad laborers, as a class. 44 C?irislian Wo?na?i?iood . Mrs. Whilen, visiting neglected streets and homes', is leading hundreds to Christ. Madame Feller's Grande Ligae Mission has been the most successful mission to the Romanists of modern times, and has changed the spirit and policy of such mis- sions. Miss Webb is using her own for- tune and influence in sending female mis- sionaries to Africa, in collecting funds, and conducting correspondence — thus perform- ing mission work. It is not in different faculties or powers that difference of sex may be traced, but in a different development, combination, and proportion of these powers. A brain of finer texture, body more symmetrical, quicker perceptions, clearer intuitions, stronger faith, and deeper heart — these characterize woman, fit her for her mis- sion, and plainly point to her position as Love's earthly incarnation. Hence, al- though, in perfecting womanly character, the culture of body, mind, and soul are each complemental to the other, yet, in this three-fold spiritual development lies her strength and superiority. Spiritual Culture. 4.5 Grant her all the attributes of beauty in the perfection of healthful vigor ; they are fleeting, they can not satisfy ; ideal art may please more. Give her a mind trained to acquisition, introspection, analysis and criticism, fine taste, clear judgment, pro- found knowledge; we can find man her superior in all this. We look for some thing above, that may prove our kindred with the Infinite, that may reach the im- mortal craving of our nature ; and we find it in a heart prone to love ; forgiveness, sweet offices of mercy ; the conscience that knows no weak commerce with error, that, faithful as the needle, points to Right as the pole-star of existence ; and the soul that goes up often into the audience-cham- ber of the King of kings, and breathes its native air of heaven while prisoned on earth. With this affluence of spiritual life, we recognize in Woman, God's best gift to man; without it — " Oh, what is Woman, what her smile, Her lip of love, her eye of light; What is she, if her lips revile The lowly Jesus ? Love may write 46 Christian Womanhood '. His home upon her marble brow, And linger in her curls of jet, The light spring-flowers may scarcely bow Beneath her step; and yet — and yet, Without that meeker grace, she '11 be A lighter thing than vanity." Combine these forms of education, culti- vate the complete nature of woman, then it would be no idle dream to expect a gene- ration of women, where the body of devel- oped muscle and healthy nerve, calm in repose and powerful in activity, will fitly shrine the jewel of mind, so fashioned and polished by education as to gloriously re- flect the Maker's image; both mind and body subject to Christ's higher law, which, occupying the hands in mercy's work, free- ing the mind from selfish taint that it may rise to the noblest themes of contempla- tion, gives to woman her final distinguish- ing charm, the halo with which art invests its pictured saint. In this millenial dawn, woman will bring the race in her arms to the Saviour's feet. As by her the race fell; by her it may rise again. There are women who seem earnests of Spiritual Culture* 47 this noble future of their sex, whose lives light up glorious possibilities for the world. Such a one, to our partial affection, seemed the subject of the following sketch, and the testimony of the many who knew her authorize our eulogy. The daily contem- plation of her life, her character, her vir- tues, suggested the reflections which have matured in this study of woman and her destiny. Although in early life her inher- ited frailty of constitution occasioned solici- tude, by her conscientious observance of the laws of health, she gained almost com- plete mastery over physical weakness, and endured, for a long term of years, a variety and extent of service, in wise alternations, that many robust women would have sunk under. Her mental development, nearly the result of self-education, was so symme- trical and thorough that she seemed capa- ble of attending to any subject or duty within the range of woman's life. Her domestic skill was so remarkable that, al- though called to so many public duties, accepting many personal responsibilities that friendship and religion made imp era- 48 Christian Womanhood, tive to her lively sensibility, she looked " well to the ways of her household;" home order and comfort were never neglected. Her spiritual culture was so complete, that partial friendship often declared her fault- less, but for the extreme of disinterested devotion that taxed too heavily her life for others' welfare. Thus love saw in her " the perfect woman, nobly planned." Sir James Mackintosh, eulogizes his wife in such terms of loving appreciation, that they are transcribed to celebrate the praises of Christian woman, and as the fitting tribute of an adoring heart, to a wife who might have claimed the picture as her own : " I was guided in my choice only by the blind affections of my youth. I found an intelli- gent companion and a tender friend, a pru- dent monitress, the most faithful of wives, and a mother as tender as ever children had the misfortune to lose. I met a wo- man who, by tender management of my weaknesses, gradually corrected the most pertinacious of them. She became prudent from affection, and, although of the most generous nature, she was taught frugal- Spiritual Culture, 49 ity by her love of me. During the most critical period of my life she relieved me. To her I owe whatever I am ; to her, what- ever I shall be. In her solicitude for my interest, she never for a moment forgot my feelings or character. Even in her occa- sional resentment, for which I but too often gave her cause (would to God I could recall those moments), she had no sullenness or acrimony. Her feelings were warm, nay, impetuous; but she was placable, tender, and constant Such was she whom I have lost." Experience alone can gauge such sorrow. The sunlight of the affections extinguished ; the heart denied the utterance of the depth and ineffable tenderness of its regards — robbed of the object of its earthly worship ; reparation for chance neglects forever im- possible ; haunting thought, that, by wiser care, life might have been prolonged; so- lace sought in overruling Providence, de- nied by consciousness that moral delin- quencies may have determined the painful discipline ; these considerations, ever re- • curring, deepen the anguish of the soul. 4 ^o Christian Woma?ihood. It is oppressed by an indescribable sense of loneliness, weakness, and woe ! Unsuc- cored by Divine grace, it is sometimes driv- en to madness — sometimes to the grave! But there are no sorrows of earth that heaven can not cure. The weakness of the creature is succored by the strengh of the Creator. There is relief in the temper- ing of time; the diversion of care; the en- gagements of duty ; the solace of fond memories; the legacy of beautiful virtues, examples, and traditions ; remembrance, perhaps, of that life before snatched from the grave, in answer to prayer, and given back with lengthened lease; in memorial of wisdom and goodness, stamped upon family order ; and especially in the hope, quickened to assurance, of eternal reunion in heaven. A treasure but removed — A bright bird parted for a clearer day, Yours still in heaven. VI. pUR Friends in Heaven. "Will gaze Upon her effigy "With reverential love, Till they shall grow familiar with its lines And know her when they see her face in heaven. j|F Christian womanhood is left to perish, nothing of earth is im- mortal. Then, all "beings and things we know are but the ef- florescence of creative energy, aimless dis- play of blind power, the sport of capricious chance, to fade in periodic decay, as earth, blooming in variegated beauty, before re- lentless approach of winter. If any thing of earth is immortal, it must be mind, ani- mated with spiritual intuitions ; character, resplendent with heavenly virtues ; will, in harmony with Divine will ; and affections allied with the true, the beautiful, and the 52 Christian Woma?i?iood. good ; rising to happy immortality, and the reunion of saints in heaven. Immortality promises this reunion; only obscure apprehension of the future life casts doubt upon it. As that life is demon- strated, the hope of reunion is confirmed. As through all stages of life and changes of condition here, correspondence of love and friendship continues, so it may in later periods of being. In nourishing the intui- tion of immortality, nature, by beautiful symbolic teaching, kindles the aspiration and gilds the promise. Rainbow and cloud, leaving us so soon to sigh over their faded loveliness, may re- appear in diviner form, spanning a fairer clime, to fade no more. The stars, in their unapproachable glory, challenging and con- founding our finite capacity, may point to a more exalted sphere, and beckon towards a more glorious destiny. Aspirations which wander about in this world like exiled angels, may regain their native bowers, and the beatitude of complete and everlast- ing fruition. The loved ones we cherish so fondly and so purely here, now leaving Our Friends in ITeaven. 53 us alone in the pilgrimage and sorrow of life, may be restored to our presence, and abide with us forever. In the future life, could we know less than in this ? A Welsh divine, interrupted in his study by the anxious enquiry of his companion : " John Evans, shall we know each other in heaven?" replied, somewhat curtly, but forcibly : "Of course we shall ! Do you think we shall be greater fools in heaven than wd are here ?" Moreover, does not identity imply recog- nition f Would not any metamorphose that prevents recognition also destroy iden- tity ? In loss of identity, and, consequent- ly, of recognition, would heavenly beings, in any proper sense, be the same that were born and lived in this world ! If there will be no recognition, will there be resur- rection, or future life ? As through change of age, dress, manners, language, clime, condition, one is still identified by relations and comparisons with the past ; so through all changes and scenes of future life, and through remotest periods of eternity, one will still be identified with earth, and be 54 C?i7*isUa?i Womanhood. recognized by those associated in its his- tory. Besides, universal aspiration for it, prophe- sies reunion. Intuitive belief in God, or im- mortality, however encumbered by super- stition and error, remains an unanswerable argument for the great objective fact to which it refers. " As sunshine broken in a rill, Though turned astray, is sunshine still." No intuitive conviction misleads the world, any more than instinct the bee, the beaver, or the bird. Our hope of reunion in the future world is such an apprehension. It is not an occasional or temporary feeling, obtaining only in some lands, in some ages, and under some forms of civilization ; but it is a normal and universal desire. It is attested in the widow immolating herself on the funeral pyre of her husband; in the sacrifice of courtiers and servants upon the grave of the barbarian king ; in similar funeral rites of aborigines of Central and Xorth America ; in inscriptions on cost- ly monuments and humble tablets in all the Our Friends in Heaven. 55 burial places of Christian lands and ages ; and in the aspirations and injunctions whispered in ten thousand dying chambers. And this aspiration becoming more ardent through the teaching of Christianity, must be of the same authority. Rising in con- fidence and promise with the Christian life, it is authenticated by the same Spirit that attests the Christian revelation. Still further, expressions of this hope, by trusted teachers of the world, particularly confirm it. Homer, illustrating the opinion and hope of the Greek civilization, repre- sents his hero as visiting the spirit-land, and recognizing and communing with an- cestors, founders, and benefactors of the state, patrons of justice and virtue. Virgil, in like manner, reflecting tradi- tionary beliefs of the Roman age, conducts JEneas through the shadowy land, tenderly meeting his venerable father, and recogniz- ing the lost companions of his pursuit of empire in the West, and seeking acquaint- ance with illustrious ancestors. Socrates, receiving the poisoned chalice, consoles himself and his friends with the 56 C?iristia7i TTomanhood. hope of reunion beyond the vale of death, and consorting with martyrs of truth, de- fenders of justice — the wise and good. Cicero solaces himself, upon the death of his son, with the same hope of soon follow- ing to know personally those he has so long admired in history, as well as to be re-united with his lost son and kindred. But these expressions are weak, com- pared with assurances animating the con- fessors of the church, through all lands and ages. Paul's triumph has been repeated a thousand times by martyrs and missionaries of the cross. And by this hope; ten thous- and times the dying chamber has been radiant with glory as an outer court of heaven ! The Old Testament, also, strongly con- firms this hope. Without it, the patriarch's tender care for his dead was, after all, a weak superstition. Without it, the yearning of Hebrew saints to be "gathered to their people," "buried with their fathers," was but an amiable delusion ! "Without it, Isaiah's graphic description Oar Friends in Heaven. 57 of a royal descent into hell; the mutual recognition of oppressor and oppressed, and rivals in oppression, is a hideous fable. Without it, the translation of Enoch and Elijah have no significance nor promise. "Without it, David practices self-delusion, when, consoling himself upon the death of his child, he exclaims : " I shall go to it, but it will not return to me." Without it, attributing all the worthy deeds and characters of the Hebrews to faith, is imposture. Limited to bounds of the grave, faith is destroyed. Its confidence survives only in the unobstructed sphere and promise of the future. Finally, this promise is implied and confirmed in every page, and ordinance of the New Testament. If Christ came not to destroy beneficent law and institutions ; much less the whole worth and value of humanity, for whose benefit law and insti- tutions were made ! He came to perfect, beautify, and glorify the true and good in man. To the bereaved widow he restored an only son; to weeping sisters an only brother; to the centurion an only daughter 4* 58 Christian Woman?iood \ — all prophesying restoration of spiritual kindred, and renewed fellowship in heaven. Besides gathering all the redeemed into himself, unites them to each other. They will share the experience and fellowship of the re-united family. Does not the pro- mise of " many mansions " imply familiar community ? The recognition, at the final judgment, of those served or neglected in this world, implies all the blessed promise of this doctrine. The parable of the rich man and Lazarus recognizing each other, and Abraham, confirms it beyond dispute. The meeting of Moses, Elias and John, talking with Jesus in the transfiguration, establishes it with a glorious fullness. The unity of the church with orders of the spiritual world, declared in Hebrews, amplifies and glorifies the promise : "Ye are come unto mount Zion, and unto the city of the living God, the hea- venly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the first-born, which are Our Friends in ITeaven. 59 written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant." With these we are made kindred, fellow heirs, glorified companions. Immortality is not a pleasing fantasy-. At the grave the soul does not lose identity in other forms of being. The uni- versal longing of humanity is not an ignis fatuus light. The prophets of the world are not impostors. The Old Testament arches the future with the bow of promise. Life and immortality are brought to light in the Gospel. United with Christ here, we shall be with him in glory. Though parted on earth, we shall meet again in heaven. Our friends in Christ are not lost, but gone before. If yon bright stars, which gem the night, Be each a blissful dwelling sphere, Where kindred spirits reunite Whom death hath torn asunder here, How sweet it were at once to die, To leave this blighted orb afar; Mixt soul and soul to cleave the sky, And soar away from star to star. 60 Christian Woma?ihood. But oh! how dark, how drear, and lone Would seem the brightest world of bliss, If, wandering through each radiant one, We failed to find the loved of this! If there no more the ties shall twine, "Which death's cold hand alone could sevei Ah, then those stars in mockery shine, More hateful as they shine for everl It can not be — each hope, each fear, That lights the eye or clouds the brow, Proclaims there is a happier sphere, Than this bleak world that holds us now, There is a voice which sorrow hears, When heaviest weighs life's galling chain; 'Tis heaven that whispers — "Dry your tears, The pure in heart shall meet again." Zife of Mrs. M. K. JZverls. LIFE OF MRS. M. K. EVERTS. Parentage and Childhood, *' A Eose, with all its sweetest leaves yet unfolded." |T is now nearly three-quarters of a century since John Burtis, born and bred a Quaker, left his fa- ther's house among the richer farming lands of New Jersey, and came to Philadelphia, wishing to compete with men in more active business, and ambitious, in his quiet, determined way, of greater ad- vantages of society and culture. The Qua- ker's son, with all the engrafted character- istics of the sect, and through the homely 64 Christian Womanhood. nurture of his frugal life, yet felt a faint stirring in his blood of the far-off Italian extraction, which betrayed itself in some instinctive refinements of manner and taste that strongly individualized the man. A character so nicely compounded of the sterner virtues and finer sensibilities would readily command circumstances ; and, after a short, but profitable, business venture, he accepted a position in the United States Bank, which he held. for a quarter of a cen- tury, until its suspension ; meanwhile making prudent investments, which even- tuated in his becoming proprietor of a large manufacturing establishment. His inherit- ed endurance, moderate life, equable tem- per, and systematic adjustment of time, these each bore their part of the burden, and for a long series of years these respon- sibilities were borne with ease and dignity. He was past his young manhood before he married. He then became acquainted with a daughter of Joseph Keen, a promi- nent man in the community, and well known among Philadelphia Baptists for elevated Christian character. Some years M. JT. Uverts. 65 his junior, this young girl, with the fervid religious temperament of her Welsh ances- try, and the lighter graces of a buoyant temper and sunny face, a loving heart and open hand, molded into beautiful woman- hood by the culture of a careful, happy home — this creature of fire and dew so rarely blent, John Burtis won as his wife, and bore to a new home. The daughter often held before us the charming sketch, which memory had pre- served* with loving fidelity, of the mother in her premature decline, with all the charms of her youth spiritualized to fragil- ity, her almost invariable dress of spotless white, the invalid chair always a centre for the household group, her buoyant sunshine animating to endeavor, cheering in defeat, welding with sweet influences the ties that bound heart to heart. She lived to middle life, long enough to impress her influence upon the elder children, and leave to them all a beautiful, tender memory; then only — in the clearer vision that approaching death brings, the reflected radiance of the dark cloud's silver lining — daring to call 5 66 Christian Womanhood. herself a child of God. Whom she had longed for, she saw, waiting to receive her as a Father. Without loud songs of tri- umph, but in perfect peace and assurance of hope, she passed over the river. The children of such parents inherited a " diversity of gifts," and in the second child and only daughter, these were devel- oped in a combination at once rare and excellent. Margaret Keen Burtis was born in the August of 1817. Of her earliest years we have no record. She always spoke with feeling of a happy childhood. A fa- ther ruling his family through loving fear, whom she reverenced from her earliest memory ; a mother, wise and tender ; the freedom of a large garden-space, where the children's sports were often resolved into their father's pastime of caring for the fruit and flowers ; the commodious, well-ordered house ; and the constant flow of fun and frolic, unallied to boisterousness, which eminently characterized the children's in- tercourse ; these were the memories to which we have often listened. Margaret was never a robust child ; but M. K. Uverts. 67 proper care and a lively disposition equally removed her from the charge of ill-health. Her studies were pursued with an ardor which the parents' forethought held in check. She was rarely gifted in musical taste and ability. An ear so sensitive to melody that the ready tears often spoke her painful rapture, and voice of that sym- pathetic sweetness that her song drew one irresistibly in the current of her expressed feeling ; these gifts, coupled with her en- thusiasm, prophesied the excellence which became afterwards so marked as to charac- terize her as " the young lady who played and sung so well." It was with the idea of cultivating and refining her vivacious disposition, that the non-professing parents allowed, within certain limits, the social dance. This, to Margaret's susceptible temperament, was " dangerously fascina- ting," as she often spoke of it, and she fol- lowed it with the keenest enjoyment until her conversion, when its incongruity with Christian profession decided her in willing renunciation. n. ChF^ISTIAN PROFESSION. "If any painter drew her, He would paint her unaware "With a halo round her hair. " jHE decided religious position of Margaret's grandfather, Deacon I Keen, with the bias of her mo- ther's early education, combined to rule family order ; and under these in- fluences they were brought up to an ob- servance of all the outward forms of religion. The family were regular attendants of the First Baptist Church, then under the pas- toral care of the senior Dr. Brantley, and the children were identified with the Sun- day school. Here, under the teaching of Miss Hetty Bruce, a faithful Christian woman, whose name we love to chronicle, Margaret received her first decided impres- M. K. averts. 69 sions of religious truth — -another of the eloquent encouragements that the Sunday school teacher may claim. It was only the little seed, from week to week watered hy prayer; but, as in our Lord's parable, the little seed matured to a mighty tree, that gave sustenance and shelter to many forms of life. Doubtless this faithful woman, long gone to her reward, is permitted to trace the influence of her early teaching upon that growth of Christian character which became a mighty influence in Christ's king- dom on earth. But it was while attending a four-days' meeting in a Presbyterian church near her father's house, that her impressions deep- ened into a profound conviction of personal guilt, and rose in the penitent's prayer : 11 God! God! With a child's voice I cry, Weak, sad, confidingly." There she finally found peace in believing, and happiness in consecrating herself to a Christian life. Among her cherished papers was found 7 o Christian Womanhood. a note, evidently written about the time of her conversion, interesting as the only evi- dence we have of her feeling, or of encour- agement to the young inquirer. The name it bears, Mary Hallman, brings up to mem- ory the quaint face and figure of one who, unordained of men, yet filled the place of those who, in the Christian Church, bore the title of deaconess. A woman both wise and tender, of remarkable personal influ- ence, and singular religious consecration, who, while she wrought with her hands for daily bread, built up the Church by her varied labors, and has left a name fragrant with all good deeds. Her solicitude for Margaret's welfare but epitomizes her spirit and work. 11 The services of Friday, my dear Margaret, were peculiarly calculated to bring every con- science to a stand ; and I do trust have brought my dear young friend seriously to consider what course she will pursue. Allow me, then, to ask what has been your determination. Have you resolved still to withhold your heart from that compassionate Saviour, who loved you, and gave himself for you ; or, overcome by his long for- bearance and tender mercy, will you not cast yourself at his feet, and resolve, in his strength, M. &. averts. 71 that from this moment you will devote yourself to his service. You feel that there is danger of grieving away the Holy Spirit, but you can never know the extent of that danger till your eyes are opened, and you realize, in some measure, the worth of the immortal soul. You fear your 1 prayers will not be heard, because you are so sinful in the eyes of a holy Grod.' It was sinners, my dear Margaret, Jesus Christ came to save ; were the prayers of the righteous only heard, none could ever ascend to his throne, for ' there is none righteous, no, not one.' It is in the char- acter of guilty and helpless sinners we are to come to the dear Saviour — he has assured us that : ' Though our sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow ; though they be red like crim- son, they shall be as wool.' We are to come just as we are, for he only can cleanse us from our guilt, and produce the change in us that we know and feel to be necessary if we would stand acquitted at the judgment bar. If you feel the slightest desire, my dear M., to converse on this subject, let me see you an hour before the ap- pointed time on Saturday. If you prefer writing, I shall be truly gratified to receive and answer your communications. I trust I need hardly as- sure you that nothing could give me greater pleasure than to be of service to you in this way. My interest in you has increased ten-fold, since I have hoped that this all-important subject is not slighted by you as it was formerly. " Yours affectionately, "M. H." j 2 Christian Womanhood. In the laxer practice of our latter-day religion, we might not look for great or decided change in one of such native love- liness. Yet this young girl, of whose grace- ful deportment, sunny temper, and loving heart all her early friends speak ; to whose filial virtues her parents bore testimony as a child who had never wounded them by thoughtlessness, opposed them in will, nor uttered a word of disrespect ; she, of whose faults none spoke, all knew her to love — in avowing herself a Christian, took a new position, and the whole character became imbued with a strange and subtle charm. She seemed to take to herself, with an intense personal significance, the apostle's assertion, that " we are not our own, we are bought with a price." Her natural disinterestedness matured into self-abnega- tion ; from the first, consecration was the key-note that explained the harmony of her Christian character. There was no grudging reserve of powers or gifts. After consulting with her parents and Christian friends, she presented herself to the First Church as a candidate for admission, and M. JS~. Uverts. 73 was baptized into their membership by Dr. Brantley, in the month of November, 1831, going down into the Delaware river, where they had opened a place in the ice to allow the ordinance. III. Budding Christian Character. "She hath borne herself beyond the promise of her ge. 1 ' |HE had just entered her four- teenth year at the time of her conversion, and from this year 1 we have some record of her life in her own hand. After her death, among many reminiscences of her early life, were found three little books, written out with her characteristic neatness and legibility, only defaced by Time's coloring; from 1832 till 1837 bearing irregular intermediate dates, as circumstances allowed time, or 5* 74 Christian Woma?i?iood. some important occasion impelled utter- ance. We would not, if we could, lay open be- fore the merely curious eye these sacred self-disclosures, but from them we may glean for those who loved her, much of the lesson of her life. She gives as a reason for her journal, the need she feels of vigi- lance and frequent self-examination. We may imagine also the religious isolation this young girl must have sometimes felt, with none in her father's house who could sympathize with her in her peculiar trials, or give the human encouragement she craved, until self-communion seemed relief and comfort, and the pages of her diary as the face of a trusted friend. In one of her earliest entries, she notices the prevalence of slanderous gossip among both young and old, and she marks this as one of the outposts of her conflict — she " will avoid unkind mention of any one." The girl's simple resolve, watched and strengthened, became one of the woman's noblest characteristics. " She openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is M. X. Uverls. 75 the law of kindness," was often spoken of her. This resolution not only originated a care over herself, but made her a social power against slander, by the marked silence and irrepressible flush of feeling that betrayed her sensitiveness, or the some- times softly-spoken word of deprecation. "We find an allusion in her diary to Dr. Judson's " Appeal to the Christian Females of America," in behalf of the Burman Mis- sions, which produced a profound impres- sion upon her mind. Keenly susceptible to impressions of beauty and grace, pos- sessed of nicely-discriminating taste, the matter of dress and personal adornment had a charm for her youth, and her parents approved of rich ornaments and handsome fabrics. But Margaret's conscience, once aroused on the subject of Christian consis- tency in dress and expenditure, decided her in principle and action. She laid aside all jewelry, and reduced her dress to almost Quakerish simplicity, while the money thus saved she enjoyed as her benevolent fund. That this was no mere outburst of girlish enthusiasm was proved through the 76 Christian Womanhood. many years of her after life. Her con- scientiousness on this subject many deemed a peculiarity, which, indeed, it seemed; singling her from the many who, in our day, belie Christian humility, dwarf noble character, and threaten family ruin, by ex- travagant outlay and undue attention to dress. Although rarely noticing such out- lay in others, her own sensitiveness in this respect forced her a number of times to refuse gifts of ornamental dress, which she alone thought unsuitable for her- place and profession. She considered time and money as among the entrusted talents, and that they should yield their utmost advan- tage, before the Lord's coming to demand his own, with usury. We find among her records, one mighty evidence of the change wrought in her, in the intimate connection her mind makes between heaven and earth — the duties and pleasures of her daily life, and the joys of eternity that are promised. The one de- rives its truest relish but as it foretastes the other, and borrows a keen zest from the hope it assures of something nobler. M. K. Uverls. 77 An interesting lesson in Astronomy fills her mind with thoughts of the " wonderful and admirable attributes of Jehovah." As her class pursue their text-book on the Evidences of Christianity, she is lost in amazement at the love of Him who left his glory to become the Saviour of a world, and she says the plan of salvation opens before her in new beauty and significance. In attending a concert, which she mentions with delight, the music reminds her of the more glorious harmonies she hopes to join above. She spends a social evening at her uncle's, and speaks of the pleasure it affords her to mingle with Christians — fellow-travelers to a better country. This vital godliness establishes in her the basis of a cheerful Christian character. One can not go mourning all their days, when they feel constantly the guiding hand and the absolute presence of a mighty friend and counselor. Her records during the first year widen out in resolves for action. "We here copy three resolutions : y8 C?iristia7i Woma?i?iood. 1st. I will attend all meetings for prayer, when circumstances will permit. 2d. I will commune with Christians, and we will exhort one another. 3rd. I will converse with impenitent sinners, who are under my influence, and urge them to flee from the wrath to come. "We see from after allusions, that this compact with herself is extended into her school-life among her more intimate friends, and they mutually promise to keep one day in the week, in the intervals allowed for recreation, sacred to Christian intercourse ; on another day of the week, each would endeavor, in some way, to approach and influence the unconverted among their as- sociates. After some time, we find this merged into a daily study of the New Tes- tament, during the intermission, with all who could be induced to join the exercise. This is maintained for many months with great regularity. She mentions with pleasure — probably her first connection with a benevolent scheme — attending the weekly meetings of a Dorcas society, to provide clothes for infant-school scholars. She calls her- M. K. averts. 79 self privileged to "be able to share in such a work, and speaks of each meeting with unflagging interest. In her union with this little society, so early in her career, was engrafted upon her character the benevo- lence which bore such rich fruit in her maturity. An early friend contributes the following reminiscence of her at this time : " Almost all my recollections of her are coupled with religion ; for she seemed, from the first of her profession, to make that the guiding- star of her course through life. I think she had been a member of the Church rather more than a year when our acquaint- ance commenced, and she seemed then to unite the zeal of a recent convert with the firm confidence of an experienced Chris- tian. She was foremost in every good work in which she engaged, winning the confidence and love of all those associated with her. In social life, she was the center of attraction, giving out an influence for refinement and goodness which none could altogether resist ! " Here we note the entry of a Sabbath, 80 Christian Womanhood. which throws much light upon the young Christian's life, in its union of labor for others with the careful performance of secret self-culture. It seems as if thus early she solved the problem of the nice adjustment of the Sabbath to doing and getting good ; in the alternation, also, effectually banishing the possibility of weariness: "Rose this morning at 6.30. Wrote part of a sermon before breakfast. Attended Sunday school. Went to church, and heard a very solemn dissertation on Rev. ii. 14 : ' But I have a few things against thee. } In the afternoon, attended church, and heard our beloved pastor ex- pound first chapter of Isaiah. Returned home, and taught, in the evening, the Scriptures to three of the family; after- ward, studied the Scriptures, and wrote, from memory, the sermon of the morning. ' Order my footsteps by thy word !' " We find another charming picture of the young girl of fifteen in the pages of her journaL There are three of them, whose friendship is cemented by Christian sym- pathy. She says : " We consulted as to M. JT. Uverls. 8i the best methods of ruling our lives ;" and they agree upon a weekly meeting for social prayer, and conference upon the best methods of growth in grace and conquest of the world, choosing a subject for special prayer and contemplation during the inter- vals of meeting. She mentions that they select, as a subject for two weeks thought- ful prayer, Self-renunciation. Smile — per- haps you may, as you conceive of these children's apprehension, in their sheltered lives, of the sublime truth that sages and philosophers have wrought out in lives of painful weariness. But the child's world had its own pomps and vanities ; through the quickening of a new life, they saw the increasing difficulty of " in honor preferring one another." They had entered upon the same conflict of which the veteran Paul speaks in solemn emphasis, after having gained the victory : " I am crucified to the world, and the world to me." • As another evidence of the pervasiveness of her religious feeling, we may notice the record of a night spent with a friend, when sleep was long deferred, as they talked of 6 St Christian Wotnanhood. their faults and mourned their unfaith- fulness. But while she is thus exercised in careful self-culture, and stretching out her hands to do good abroad, the ties of natural affection tighten around her heart, in the anxiety she feels for her family. Her journal attests her prayer and solicitude for the conversion of her parents, her bro- thers — each member of the family > whom she severally names with the tenderest af* fectiom She frequently breaks out into prayer that her conduct may not be derog* atory to the cause she has espoused, but that, as a reflection of humble Christian life, her example may be blest to those she loves. Unlike mere outbursts of youthful feeling, this ardor is a constant flame. She continually reverts to it as the great wish of her heart. Other friends and relations are frequently alluded to ; and she debates with herself how she may best approach them, and recommend her cause. Then, after weeks of interval, we find the allusion to " the friend mentioned before " — " an- other conversation," and " renewed pray- er." She covenants with an absent friend M. K. Uverls. 83 to retire at a certain hour every day, to pray for the conversion of their own rela- tions. We have, as an interesting testimony to this part of her life, the recollections of her valued friend and instructor, Dr. R. W. Cushman : " Your favor of the 15th came duly to hand. It told ine of such a visitation in your family- circle as I was poorly prepared to hear of. Mrs. Everts, for months past, has been very often in my mind, connected, not only with memories, but with anticipation. It is nearly a quarter of a century, indeed, since I last saw her ; but all the more fondly have I cherished the anticipation of seeing her in the coming spring. Alas ! how little did I think of her having finished her life's work before I should see her again ! * * * n The records of a life so beautiful and beneficent certainly should not be lost to the world. " Miss Margaret Keen Burtis entered the 1 Collegiate Institution for Young Ladies ' in Philadelphia, on the fifth of September, 1834, as a daily pupil. It was a matter of much un- certainty with her family, whether she would be able to attend regularly, at so great a distance from home. She appeared to be constitutionally too frail to undertake a walk of a mile and a half, twice daily, amid all kinds of weather. It was hoped, however, that the regularity of her ex- 8 4 Christian Womanhood. posure to the air, and the long walk, even though at first severe, might improve her health, and strengthen her constitution. . That hope was, in a great measure, realized. Neither weather nor sickness interfered much with her attendance. Indeed, I find but one record of absence from recitation during her first term. Her success in her studies was equal to her regularity in her attendance. " I happen to have the minutes of her account of her Christian experience before the Church, which I made when she came before it as a can- didate for baptism. She stated that her first religious impressions were received from the teachings of the Sabbath school. She was 1 more powerfully exercised,' however, at a four days' meeting at Rev. Mr. Patterson's Church (Presbyterian), and it was there she found relief. " She had been, from her earliest years, a pat- tern of filial affection and dutifulness ; and her outward life seemed to have nothing in it ' to be repented of.' Sweet in temper, ingenuous, frank and winning in manners, and social without forwardness, she very early drew the attention and love, not only of the connections of the fam- ily, but of strangers, who marked her for no ordinary womanhood. " No sooner did she make a profession of her faith in Christ than she began her work for him. "Well do I remember, -even at this distant day, her young face glowing with happiness, as she sat in the midst of a circle of her fellow-pupils, whom she was accustomed to gather about her M. j£. Uverls. 85 in a comparatively quiet recess in the Lecture Eoom, during the twenty minutes intermission between the opening and close of the daily ses- sion. I remember how they sat, each with her Testament or Bible in her hand, spell-bound, eagerly "bending forward and listening to what she was telling them of the story of the cross. I remember with what interest I watched the daily scene, as I sat at my desk at a little dis- tance, enjoying my own brief respite. And I remember, when I missed her from her place, and learned that she was ill, how the tears came to my eyes, as the thought came up that that smiling, happy face might not return — that sweet voice be heard no more in that youthful group — that that 'beauty of holiness,' while yet seeming in blossom, had, perhaps, already ripened for heaven. "In deep sympathy with the sorrow that shadows your home and that of your bereaved father, I am, dear brother, " Yours in Gospel bonds, " Village Side, " E. W. Cushman." " Oct. 29, 1866." IV. Mothers Death. ' Beneath the cares of earth she does not bow, Though she hath ofttimes drained its bitter cup, But ever wanders on with heaven ward brow, And eyes whose lovely lids are lifted up. " 1ROM the ordinary language of her journal, and the general ten- or of her life, we might readily infer a sweet docility of disposi- tion ; but it is made noticeably prominent by a little history we glean from the pages of her journal. In one record she speaks of a destitute part of the city that should be occupied by a Sunday school, and ex- claims, with ardor, that she would enjoy this work. After several days, she alludes to it again as growing upon her heart, and wonders if her parents would allow her to engage in such a school. By still another M, j£. averts. 87 mention, we see that the subject engrosses her mind, and she now determines to seek her parents' consent, and prays that they may approve her plan. The next record she makes is in disappointment. They " think proper to deny my request," as her health is considered too delicate to venture in such an arduous undertaking. While she admits their superior judgment, she prays for an entirely submissive spirit, and then : " 0, Lord, send other laborers into thy harvest." Weeks after, she makes thankful mention of the fact that a school has been organized there ; with a noble unselfishness, she exclaims : " Bless the Lord, my soul !" She is but sixteen, when we find, head- ing a page in her diary, this inscription : " A new era in my life :" " The Lord has smitten me, yet will I praise him. He has laid his afflicting hand upon me, yet I will glorify his name for seen and unseen mercies. The mother who tenderly watched over my helpless infancy has fled. She who counseled me and taught me lessons of wisdom has gone forever. No more shall I hear the music of her sweet voice, or listen with delight 88 Christian Womanhood. to her instructive conversation. I have lost a darling mother, with no sister left me. Oh ! the bitterness of a bereaved heart. I feel as if I never more can enjoy many things in which we participated, because, to me, the dearest one will be gone. . . . Never was a mother more tender and indulgent, when her excellent judgment said it was proper ; but strict where one's benefit re- quired it. Altogether, she is thought to have been awon JT. Urerts. 105 ceptable sort, represent the heroism of self- conquest in the brightest colors, and as essential to happiness. But Christ's exhor- tations to warfare are accompanied with abundant promise of love and succor. It must be conflict, but not uncheered — " Behold, I am with you alway." " We have an High Priest touched with the feel- ing of our infirmity." \ We might go on and dilate on this beautiful life, broadening in Christian ex- perience, widening in new channels of usefulness ; in church, society, and the home circle, wielding an influence any woman might covet, yet few attain, the more potent because exercised in such un- conscious humility ; but we have sketched the outlines, and they must be accepted as suggestions of the story that never could be fully told. For the "rest, we have only some letters to offer that pertain to this part of her life. As an instance of the kind of correspon- dence she carried on with her young friends, we subjoin the following, addressed 7* 106 C?irisUa?i Womanhood. to one of her friends in a distant part of the city. "Kensington, Nov. 17, 1838. " Your truly welcome epistle, my dear E., has remained unanswered until this time, not on ac- count of indifference, but because of circumstan- ces extremely inauspicious for writing. Had it been otherwise, selfishness alone would have prompted me to reply, for I need not tell you how great my pleasure is in hearing from one so dear as yourself, whose every interest is dear to my heart. As you have chosen a subject, I will take it up and bestow upon it a few passing thoughts. Memory is truly a wonderful faculty of the mind, that mysterious power which brings the thoughts, feelings, actions, events, pleasures, and pains of an existence in review before us, and causes them to wear the freshness of yester- day. Yes, it proves to us that mind and body have been formed by a Master-workman, no less than a God. In many instances, memory, I think, is as much a cordial to the heart as hope, for although without the cheering influences of the latter, despair might sometimes take posses- sion of the mind, yet, to one who has proved the fallacy of many of her promises, and experienced disappointment when his expectations were high- est, she is very apt to be received with consider- able distrust. The hope I allude to as frequently ending in disappointment, is not the hope which the Gospel inspires, but the promise of future good which, independently of religion, exists in- M. K. averts. 107 discriminately in all the hearts of the human race. How melancholy, and yet how pleasant, are the visits of memory to our hearts ; how often do they occupy the moments which other- wise might be claimed by the present grief or unhappiness of our minds, and direct the thoughts from a channel so painful. But there are pains connected with memory. How often does it bring the spectral forms of those sins which have blackened our being, and which have risen as a cloud to heaven, before our eyes ; sins which, were it not for the great atonement in which we trust we have an interest, would be sufficient to bury us in the depths of gloom and despair. As it is, however, even these reminiscences may be productive of good, by increasing our gratitude, and teaching us lessons of humility. May we not suppose, dear E., that this faculty will ac- company us to heaven, and cause us to sing the praises of redeeming love in nobler, sweeter strains ? May it not afford topics for heavenly converse, and cause the glory of God (if it be possible to increase it) to appear still greater, by recounting his amazing goodness and love. But I must close these hasty lines, with St. Paul's admonition : ' Let us forget the things which are behind, and press forward to those things which are before.' I am afraid — -indeed, the thing is certain — that we are not making those advances in piety which should correspond with our privileges. We are not yet spiritually- minded -enough ; we are too worldly, and do not exhibit that crucifixion to the world which is re- 108 Christian WomanJiood. quired of us. ! E., let us, with the aid of the Divine Spirit, live nearer the cross, with Eternity more distinctly in view, and with the account which we shall have to render always before us. May God grant us more of the spirit of deep de- votion, a nearer approximation to his blessed image, is the prayer of your sincere " Margaret." The following class report is interesting, as reflecting her character as a Sunday school teacher: u It is with mingled emotions of pleasure and pain that 1 report to you the state of the class over which it lias been my happiness to preside during the year that is about closing. For the first time, death has entered our circle and snatched from us one in all the budding bloom of youth and loveliness, with as fair prospect of life as any of her companions, at the opening of the year ; before many months had elapsed, consump- tion marked her for his own, and gradually, but steadily, did he pursue his victim, until, wearied with the conflict, she sank into his embrace. She has left behind her cheering evidence that, although lost to her friends here, she has only gone before to enter those blissful mansions pre- pared for the redeemed. Her last hours wore spent in prayer, which seemed, at that trying period, to be the only stay of her soul, and* the element in which she would only live. Her M. jK:. averts. 109 anxiety for sinners was manifested in the mes- sages sent to her classmates, warning them to prepare for eternity now in youth, and assuring them that at the critical hour to which she had been brought, nothing could avail them but the blessed Saviour. Let this dispensation of Provi- dence admonish us, dear fellow-teachers, to im- prove more diligently every opportunity we enjoy with our classes, begging them, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled to Glod while the bloom of health and youth still mantles their cheek. Since the last report, three of our number have, by public profession, connected themselves to God, and a fourth entertains a hope that her sins have been forgiven, for the sake of the great Mediator. Pray for them, that, surrounded by the seductive charms of earth, they may adorn their profession, and hold fast the beginning of their confidence steadfast unto the end. The class at present numbers eleven. Our studies have been, for the most part, in concert with the school, besides some Scripture and hymns which have been committed. In closing this report, the writer would solicit an interest in your pray- ers, that a more just conception of the value of the immortal soul may so take possession of her mind, that she may labor with a zeal which many waters can not quench for the conversion of every individual entrusted to her care. 1 ' In evidence of her careful Bible study, we give the following exercise, as written out in her hand : no Christia?i Womanfiood. " Upon what evidence does the first chapter of Genesis rest its claims for the truth of its details ? " In deciding upon the authenticity of any document, it is necessary for us to be satisfied as to the degree of confidence of which the writer is deserving. Secondly, whether his statements bear internal marks of honesty and truth. Thirdly, whether any witnesses can be found to vouch for their credibility. " With regard to the chapter before us, it pur- ports to have been written by Moses, who was frequently favored with direct communications from heaven, and who spake to God, as he in- forms us, " face to face." The Saviour and all the apostles have conferred lasting honors on his writings, both by quoting them and referring to them on many occasions. In the sixteenth of Luke, Jesus supposes Abraham to be saying to the rich man (when he desired some one from the dead to be sent unto his brethren, that they might repent), that if they ' believed not Moses and the prophets, neither would they be per- suaded though one rose from the dead.' On the mount of transfiguration also, we find Moses one of two or three who were commissioned from the court of heaven to commune with the Son of God Incarnate. His testimony has been relied on in all ages of the world, and his writings have sur- vived the ruins of empires, and been transmitted to us with greater claims to antiquity than any others extant. 11 The whole chapter bears evident marks of M. J£. liver Is. m truth and divinity ; the godlike sublimity which pervades it ; the conciseness and grandeur of its descriptions, so unlike the elaborate and studied expressions of human composition ; the exalted truths which it discloses, so totally beyond the conception of man, unaided by the Spirit of God ; and the self-evidencing honesty which character- izes all its details, furnish evidence sufficient to satisfy any mind not poisoned and blinded by in- fidelity. Independent of this chapter, we have nothing which gives us any intelligence relative to our own creation or that of any thing which surrounds us, and with heathen nations should be wandering in the mazes of doubt and absurdity, in endeavoring to account for our own existence and the host of created wonders which every where meet our eye. With regard to the exter- nal evidence of these details, we have, besides the Saviour and his apostles, the testimony of the whole Jewish nation, who first received the writings of Moses, and by whom, until this day, he is held in profound veneration. To him, also, may be traced the indistinct impressions which many nations of the earth have, relating to the fall of man, the universal deluge, the character of Noah, and many other things, which are evi- dently derived from the writings of Moses. " Q. 2d. Are the statements of this chapter to be received on the evidence of faith, or the testimony of reason ? ". There is nothing in the statements of this chapter which our reason may not approve ; but" by its light alone, we should never have arrived U2 CJirislia?i li r oma?ihood. at the conclusions to which this Scripture brings us ; and it is ' by faith that we understand that the worlds were made by the word of God.' " Q. 3rd. At what time and under what cir- cumstances was that portion of Scripture writ- ten? " In the seventeenth of Exodus, fourteenth verse, is the first intimation we have of writing, although it is generally thought that this book was written either while Moses was in Midian, or while he was journeying through the wilder- ness. 11 Q. 4th. The first chapter of Genesis admits a beginning to all things, but implies the pre-existence of Deity. Upon what other Scripture evidence does this important fact depend for support? Psalm xc. 2: 'Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from ever- lasting to everlasting, thou art God.' Isaiah lxiii. 16 : ■ Thou, Lord, art our Father, our Redeemer ; thy name is from everlasting.' Mi- cah v. 2 : ' Whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.' Psalm cii. 25 : 'Of old hast thou laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of thy hands.' Isaiah xliv. 6 : ' Thus saith the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts : I am the first, and I am the last ; and besides me there is no God.' 1 Timothy vi. 16: 'Who only hath immortality, dwelling in the light that ilo man can approach unto.' " M. JT. Uverts. J1 3 In 1835, representatives from the differ- ent city churches organized a " Female Tract Society," auxiliary to the Baptist General Tract Society. Miss Burtis be- came an active member, and was chosen to succeed Mrs. Eliza Allen, as Secretary of the Society. From a book of Society re- cords, we select one of her annual reports. This was her initial effort in public affairs, which proved her capacity for administra- tion, and served as training for the future : " March 22, 1842. " Since we last appeared before you, another year has gone to be numbered with those beyond the flood, and the waves of oblivion have rolled over its grave ; happy would it be, could their waters wash away its numerous sins, and leave no dark record to condemn. " From the nature of our organization, the material for a report is scanty. Our operations resemble the noiseless stream, too shallow of it- self to subserve the purposes of navigation, but aiding the mighty ocean, on whose bosom is borne the ships of every nation, laden with treas- ures of every clime. "We humbly hope that with advancing time there will be an increase of interest ; and that, as the parent Society pre- pares and circulates volumes, rich with the 8 114 Christian }f r oma?ihood '. treasures of knowledge, and begins to meet the numerous wants of the denomination, those who are now sleeping will wake up to the importance of the publication cause. Does any one inquire what this Society proposes to accomplish ? or why it is thought so desirable to print and send throughout the country volumes such as the parent institution asks for means to publish ? Were all our countrymen blessed with religious advantages similar to those which we possess ; and could they, as the light of the Sabbath dawned, bend their weary steps to the house of God, and sit under the soul-refreshing droppings of the sanctuary, or even at short intervals en- joy this unspeakable privilege, apathy would not so much surprise us ; but when we consider the immense numbers whose ears are never saluted by the sound of the ' church-going bell,' in whose desolate neighborhood no messenger of salvation lifts his voice to warn, instruct, or encourage ; where few pages of religious truth ever meet the eye ; nay, more, where many grow up from child- hood to youth, and, in some instances, from youth to manhood, without hearing the Gospel of salvation proclaimed ; when we consider all this, indifference in Christians appears to us criminal. The Society, then, to which this is auxiliary, proposes, so far as their means will justify, to meet this destitution, and give to the multitudes depending on our denomination for their religious literature, such works as will, by the blessing of the Most High, lead them in the way of salvation, and, in the absence of the liv- M. tf. Uverls. n_j ing teacher, silently instruct them in their duty to God, themselves, and their fellow-men. We appeal to your sympathies, your consciences, and your principles, as Christians, and ask, in the name of Him whom you call Master and Lord, whether these thousands shall die uninstructed and unenlightened, when it is in your power to send them the Word of life ; or whether you will resolve to sacrifice what may even be desirable to make them sharers in your privileges. The Great Head of the Church asks this, not as a favor, but as his right. He bids us follow him, and bear upon our shoulders the crosses in the way. He asks not what we can conveniently spare from that purse which his own hand has bestowed, and constantly replenishes ; but bids us take for our necessities only what is requisite, and demands the remainder for his cause. How, dear sisters, will it be found at last, when the Judge of all the earth shall institute an inquiry into our conduct ? Think you our hands will be stainless, and our consciences clear, in this mat- ter ? Will it then be manifested that we have faithfully employed the talents entrusted to our keeping ? By all that is desirable in heaven, and awful in the torments of the lost ; by all that is valuable in the approving smile of that Saviour who, for man's salvation, became obedi- . ent unto 'death, we entreat those who live under the meridian splendor of the Gospel, heretofore unmindful of their less favored brethren, to arise, shake off sloth, and acquit themselves as good n6 Christian Womanfiood . soldiers of the cross, so that at last the blood of souls may not be found on their skirts. 11 In closing our report, your Board would solicit a continued interest in your prayers, as well as your patronage ; and in return would ask for you the bestowment of the grace and Spirit of God, that your lives may be crowned with his benediction, and your hope for the world to come full of glory and immortality." Perhaps the most fitting conclusion to our retrospect of her early life is to be found in a letter received from an early friend, Dr. Thomas D. Anderson, of New York: w Your letter, which reached me late last week, bore the first intelligence I had received of the departure of your most excellent mother from earth. As you may suppose, it deeply impressed me, much as though a beloved sister had been taken away. For, although we have seen but little of each other for the last twenty- five years of our lives, yet, for a period of two or three years previous, we were intimately •acquainted, as youthful members of the same church, and companions, with several others, in the same Christian social circle. * * * * "My acquaintance with Miss Margaret K. Burtis was formed in the winter of 1835-6, when I had gone to Philadelphia to pursue my studies M. J£. Averts. 117 in the University of Pennsylvania. I united with the First Baptist Church, and in engaging in the Sabbath school and attending the prayer- meetings, I became acquainted with her, among others similarly employed. I soon found that, although quite young, she enjoyed the implicit confidence of the older members of the Church. Indeed, at that age, her Christian conduct was so marked, that it was frequently the subject of conversation (when she was not present) among her brethren and sisters, and was held up as an example worthy of imitation. Although her society was much sought after, her attendance on the meetings for social prayer, as well as the more public services of the sanctuary, was so constant, that her rare absence could be almost always accounted for by indisposition. Nor was she there by constraint ; no rigid exaction of duty secured her presence in the Sunday school room or at the praying-circle ; she was there from choice, when her smiling countenance, her noiseless and unobtrusive activity, and especially her voice of melody hymning her Saviour's praises, told that' not the body merely, but all the powers of the soul were waiting on the Lord. " There was another point, which does not occur to me only now, but one I have often thought on with pleasure. Her conversation — and her powers in this respect were a special endowment, as well as the result of a well- trained mind — was eminently religious. I mean not at set times, when the occasion seemed n8 Christian Womanhood. specially suited to it, -when it would seem almost irreverent not thus to key the speech ; but in the moments of joyous abandon among her youth- ful associates, when the pulse of feeling beat highest, when there was no restraint of solemn association, her conversation as naturally and as buoyantly flowed along Christ-ward as the heart turns to the object of its love. This was the charm of her society ; and I can say with cer- tainty, from the remembered utterances of many of our then intimate associates, it made inter- course with those who, in some instances, may have possessed more of worldly attraction, un- entertaining and insipid. I think hers was a power that unconsciously and silently has exer- cised an influence on many hearts ; by which through life they have sought to set a happy, cheerful, christian utterance among their chief means of commending the Gospel of Christ. 11 In estimating her character, we must not imagine that it grew by being fostered beneath the mild and careful nurture of parental piety. Margaret had the grief of losing her mother at a very early age ; and her father, at the period of which 1 write, had never professed himself to be a disciple of Jesus. "When most girls are lead- ing an unreflecting and ease-loving life, she had assumed the grave responsibilities of the matron of her father's home, with the additional care of the home charge of three brothers. Still, on en- tering the house, no one, by the slightest sign of neglect, could miss the hand of the most ac- complished housekeeper ; and yet with such tact M. JT. averts. 119 was all this attended to, that industry laid too few restraints on social life ever to be intruded on the attention of guests ; or suffer the many evening entertainments, which are looked back upon by those who mingled in them as some of the pleasantest memories of the times, to be de- prived of her who was one of their chief attrac- tions. A discipline that thus early threw on her the duty and privilege of ministering to a fond though widowed father, and motherless brothers, exerted its purifying power on her disposition, and through grace clothed the spirit with not only unselfishness, but actual self-forgetfulness. It was this that rendered all the little reunions at the house so delightful. You experienced a joy, yet you were not troubled with a sense of obligation. You were made happy, yet so un- consciously, that you had no one to acknowledge as the dispenser of the bliss ; the reserved forgot their shyness ; the unattractive found themselves centres of influence ; wishes were so readily gratified that no one had any thing to regret ; while music, which Miss Burtis had cultivated apparently as a means of ministering to others' pleasure, rather than a selfish accomplishment, or to provoke admiration, bound within its spell of harmonies all hearts. A desire to please, as an aim, rather than to be pleased, a christian self-forgetfulness, thus accomplished within the sphere of social enjoyment, that triumph, to real- ize which in the same degree among the people of my charge, has been to me an unattained effort through my pastoral life. For nothing 120 Christian Womanhood. was ever admitted derogatory of the christian profession ; while so pure was the joy, so elevat- ing the influence, that the young could often turn with zest from the frivolities of the world's pastimes, and crave admission to the entertain- ments, which exemplified the truth that ' godli- ness is profitable for the life which now is, as well as for that which is to come.' " Among the many things that come throng- ing to my mind of memories associated with your mother, I can only take time at present to refer to one other : the appreciation with which she listened to the preaching of the Gospel. Of all hearers, male or female, I have no remembrance of any one who, at so tender an age, listened with such rapt attention, and who received such delight at some beautiful development of truth, or at some fresh announcement of a doctrine that had been already adopted by the soul. These delights were not momentary, but I hazard little in saying, that I doubt not, until the day of her death, she could remember sermons preached by Drs. Brantly and Ide in the years to which I refer that, being received in faith and enforced by prayer, were means of her own spiritual growth. u In consistency of christian practice, in fervor of spiritual devotion, in steadiness of obedience to the claims of duty, in joyous fidelity to Christ in the offices of life, in maturity of christian judgment, and in the sanctification of the charms and graces of endowment and cultivation to the Master's use, Margaret Burtis, from the age of seventeen to twenty, has had, within my know- ledge, no peer among those of like years." VI. M.ARRIAGE AND REMOVAL, 1 1 Across the threshold led, And every tear kissed off as soon as shed, His house she enters, there to be a light Shining within, when all without is night ; A guardian angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasure, and his cares dividing." |T "WAS during a great Bible con- vention held in Philadelphia in 1836, that Margaret Burtis made the acquaintance which eventu- ated in her change of home and name. "W. "W. Everts, then a theological student at Hamilton, attended the convention, and in the dispersion of the throng of visitors, was assigned to the hospitality of her father's house. It was not strange that, under the same roof, Margaret's peculiar attractiveness of person and manner, seen 8* 122 Christian Womanhood. in her character of hostess — the always en- gaging position for a woman, and by her in- vested with a tender grace, in her three-fold relation in the bereaved household, should deepen the impressions of the few days into feeling, in the young student, and before he left the house he proposed correspon- dence. She, whom daughters might take for a model, sought her father's approba- tion for the continued acquaintance ; but he, fond and fearful of the hardships of a minister's lot for his darling, dreading, as parents may, the stranger love, that must come before all others, disapproved the cor- respondence, and there, apparently, it ended. She remained to cheer home, meanwhile forming other acquaintances, but refusing any tie that could take her away ; and he went back to his studies, dreaming of the "perfect woman, nobly planned," until, in time, the remembrance of that brief ac- quaintance was but a sunny spot in the shadowy past. In 1839, the student graduated, married Miss Maria Wyckoff, daughter of the late Elder C. P. Wyckoff, and at once went to M. 1£. averts. 123 New York to become the first pastor of the Tabernacle Baptist Church. After a short thrge years of happy married life, the young wife died, leaving two daughters, one but an infant of a few days. It was a simple and natural process that, after a time, took the thoughts of the now saddened young man, in his solitary labors, and with his motherless children calling for the care and love he could not give, back to the memory of that bright face and form, which, to his early fancy, embodied all that was bright and good. The vicinage of his present home afforded easy opportunity for a renewal of the acquaintance, and time had so far modified the father's objections, and so singularly marked the daughter for such a position, that no further obstacles were raised, and, in November of 1843, they were married at the old home, and left for the new. It would be entirely out of keeping with her character, to suppose that she could enter the new relation of wife, without serious and prayerful consideration. Yet, we have only a few words of her own, that 124 Christian Womanhood. express any feeling in view of the change — those addressed to the one who is soon to become her husband : " How short the time is becoming, before the event that seals our happiness or woe, shall take place. If our lives are unhappy, it will be our own fault, I am confident. Let us begin by a careful attention to little things, and not think that this care will only be needed at first, but continue in the practice. Many begin well, who, I believe, fail from this very circum- stance, and become wretched : first, indif- ference, then coldness, then neglect, then misery; than which nothing this side of the bottomless pit can be worse." The church, to which she came as pas- tor's wife, was an adventurer, if we may so speak, in the Christian world, the result of an experimental seeking for more extended usefulness. Revival efforts, which had pre- vailed in the State with powerful and bene- ficial results, were distrusted by the denomi- nation in the city, while they maintained their existence by the observance of the ordinary means of grace, but lost the richer blessings that exalted their brethern. The M. J£. Uverts. 125 late Deacon Colgate, a man of rare spirit- ual discernment, and of great practical worth to the Oliver-street Church, studied these revival measures, and became con- vinced that they might be used to advance the interests of the Church : it was only a wise adaptation of the means of grace to the varying circumstances of the people. But he felt the futility of such an effort in the conservative atmosphere of the old Church, and rightly judged that this might be a leading from the Lord, that they should di- vide their numbers, and so work in different ways. He found others like-minded, and they left their church connection to unite with a remnant of the Mulberry-street Church and another small church, the united bodies calling themselves the Taber- nacle Baptist Church. After a few months of supplies, they gave a unanimous call to "W. W. Everts, who came from his gradua- tion to his first pastorate, as their first pastor. The young church attracted public atten- tion, by their remarkable success. Large congregations were soon gathered in, and 126 Christian Womanhood. many were baptized into their membership. In the first winter, Elder Jacob Knapp labored with them, through a series of meetings, which added hundreds to the church itself, and communicated a revival impulse to all the city churches. In three years they had trebled their membership, numbering over nine hundred, while the de- nomination had made considerable growth and aggression, in the erection of new houses of worship, and new preaching stations. Evidently this growth was but the beginning of a new order of things, and the pastor of the Tabernacle Church fore- seeing that, in the encroachment of busi- ness, their location would soon be out of the way, encouraged the idea of coloniza- tion. Most opportunely, as they felt, a house, fronting on St. John's Park, built by Dr. Cox's congregation, was offered for sale. They succeeded in accomplishing a provisional purchase, and to strengthen and insure the success of the new enterprise, Mr. Everts felt it his duty to leave the now strong and established church, though against the wishes of the body, and go out M. JT. Uverts. 127 with the colony, as pastor of the Laight- street Church. But the march of church and residence property up town, was more general and extended further than any would have dared predict in so short a time, and while the Tabernacle went up with the current, Laight Street was left just a little out of the way, and subject to constant drafts on its numerical strength, by re- movals. Still, for a period of eight years, their average of annual additions amounted to seventy, while it stood in the ranks with working churches, ready for the claims of broad benevolence. VII. A New Home. 11 Contented toil, and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness are there ; And piety, with wishes placed above, And steady loyalty, and faithful love-" |N assuming the relation of wife, she took upon herself a combi- nation of domestic cares and re- sponsibilities. It was not in the usual course of newly-wedded life, making the first essay, with only the husband's par- tial love to criticise, with the gradual spring- ing up of a family circle around them ; but it was at once to take her place in the fami- ly that had formed around another. She must gather the loose threads of family dis- cipline and domestic economy, and weave them into a pattern of order and beauty, while her sensibilities would be keenly alive M. K. JPverls. 129 to implied comparison or blame. She has spoken sometimes of the diffidence with which she assumed these duties, but, it is true, that in their faithful discharge, " none named her but to praise." The servants already in the family, re- mained with her as long as she kept house in New York, and no two more attached friends the family left behind in their sub- sequent removal. For she had nursed them in sickness, sympathized with them in trou- ble, counseled and cared for them, at once the kind mistress and constant frierra. She never forgot them in her visits to the city, but always sought out their poor home, and gave them a rare bit of happiness, by her sunshiny presence, and the greatest news of their lonely lives — the story of the growing children and the family fortunes. The sisters and mother that she met in the new home, at once gave her a heart-adop- tion, and they found in the home's new mistress its greatest charm. But.it was in the assumption of her most arduous charge, the care of the children, that her uncommon force and beauty of 130 Christian Womanhood. character showed most resplendent. The young mother, when dying, gave the elder child to her own sister, and afterward, her family would have claimed them both. To this the father objected, and when Margaret, soon to become his wife, learned the plan, with a noble unselfishness, she opposed it strongly, urging the sacredness of the fami- ly ties she hoped to cement rather than destroy, begging that both of the little ones be left to their father and herself. At length, though with reluctance, they allow- ed her Saims as right, and the children were given back to their home. It was but a short time after their mar- riage that she visited, in company with her husband, the parents of his first wife, with whom Mr. Everts ever maintained the warmest intimacy. We have often heard the visit alluded to, by different members of the family, as well as by the visitor her- self, who spoke of it as then seeming to be a severe ordeal. The old lady, a woman of stately presence, and positive character, had invited the large family connection to fill the house, in honor of the guests, and M. K. Uverts. !3» with, perhaps, many a thought of the bride death had so soon claimed, the friends awaited their coming. A sister said : " As soon as she crossed the threshold, and we looked into her eyes, there was a general thrill of surprised satisfaction, while the involuntary exclamation passed from mouth to mouth — 'How much like Maria!' and mother met her with tearful embraces, and called her 'daughter.'" The impressions of this first visit ripened into a mutual at- tachment, which lasted through life. In- deed her facility in making friends, seemed without limit. As, in the following sum- mer, they took a jaunt in the lake region of New York State, among the old family friends of her husband, it seemed but a round of conquests ; the plain farmer folk, and city bred, old and young, all fell in love with " Cousin Margaret." She seemed at once to step into the confidences of a life- time, and to be exalted into the family ora- cle, if we might judge from the appeals constantly made to her nice sense of pro- priety, her taste, or judgment. Although the care of her little brothers, *3 2 C/mstian JVbmanhood. served her, in a general way, as preparation for the charge of the children whom she now lovingly claimed as her own ; yet the assumption of motherhood, without the ten- der tie born of sorrow, is, at best, a trying ordeal for a woman. The long conflict with the will which another bequeathed, meeting with the numberless disagreeable traits, which, unsoftened by that mysterious tie of blood, stand in unredeemed ugliness — through all, to give the tender love, the unfailing patience, the cheerful self-denial, which the name of mother implies to our heart, this was the lot she chose for herself; and how completely she filled it, only those know who saw her in her home, and those best, who were so long the recipients of her often unmerited, yet never failing love. The fact of their mother's loss, which could have nothing but painful significance to their minds, she ever kept, with a delicate reticence, that allowed no comment before the children, that could enlightea or wound them. Once, a lady expressing surprise at the age of the older daughters, inquired, before them, if these were her children, " I M. K. Uveris. *33 call them mine," was the dignified response, that allowed the puzzled woman no further opportunity for inquiry or remark. As her own children grew up around her, no one could have detected any partiality that dis- tinguished the children of two mothers, the older ones always having the prece- dence accorded to age in family order ; and this impartiality extended through her life, even in the division of her private property she wished no difference made between the children — a most rare example of disin- terested affection. Taking her in all her relations, as friend, mistress, wife, and mo- ther, in no one of these, perhaps, do we gee a more beautiful reflex of her virtues, than in her relation to these motherless children. She writes to a sister of their arrival in New York, and the reception of friends : " November 20th, 1843. "My dear Sister, — You have doubtless thought it strange that I have not, ere this, replied to your very welcome epistle" received in the Sum- mer ; but such have been the multiplicity of my engagements that almost all correspondence has 134 Christian Womanhood \ had to be laid aside. And even now, in conse- quence of your cousin's haste, I shall have to send a mere apology for a letter. We arrived in this city on Tuesday last, one week to-mor- row, after having passed a week very pleasantly between Baltimore, Philadelphia and Xewark ; and now begin to feel quite settled in this city of my adoption. As you may suppose, all seemed very strange at first — particularly as the circle of acquaintance I left behind was large, and much endeared ; but from the little opportunity afforded me of judging, the New York friends will, by their kindness, and hospitality, soon supply, in a degree at least, the deficiency I now feel. Last Thursday we appointed to receive calls from the Laight-street and Tabernacle members, when. not- withstanding the unpleasantness of the weather, quite a large number favored us. This afternoon ■ we expect the different branches of the Wyckoff family to take tea with us — as yet, I have be- come acquainted with none Qf them. To-mor- row, or rather Wednesday, we are invited to take tea with Mr. C, our groomsman, where some of his friends are expected to meet us ; and Thursday week Mr. Everts has appointed for the ministers and their wives to pay us a visit. Besides these, several others have given invita- tions, which we shall probably attend to shortly." We have her own look-out upon new- duties, in a letter addressed to a friend but a short time after her marriage : M. K. Uverts. 135 " Febktjary 27, 1844. " My Dear Elizabeth, — That I have not written you before this, has not been the result of forgetfulness or disinclination. Had you been an eye-witness of my many engagements, I feel assured your generous heart would acquit me and say that it could scarcely have been other- wise. Since coming here, there has rarely been a day that I have had the command of my own time ; and this has been particularly the case for about two months past, during which our Church have been holding meetings. I have yet to learn that a change produced in circumstances and relations at marriage, has necessarily to oblit- erate feelings of attachment long cherished in the heart ; far otherwise ; when removed from the loved circle, we begin to know somewhat of the depth of affection felt towards them, and often long for their society. I do not expect, situated as I now am, to form many close friendships. The feeling will have to be one of general good will and complacency to all ; with some, of course, I am more frequently thrown, and shall be more intimate ; but the course, at present, seems to be most prudent to show as little par- tiality as possible. " As you will probably want to know some of the particulars of my situation, it is unnecessary for me to say that my letter will look egotistical ; the personal pronoun J, it would be more agree- able, to me, to dispense with ; but from the nature of the case, this can not be. I seem to hear you say, " Tell me all that interests vou." Well, 136 Christian Womanhood. then, to begin with, do you ask me how I like my new abode ? Very much, indeed ; and how could it be otherwise ; my dear husband is one of the very best — which cousin Maggie, who has just left me, will testify — kind, and solicitous to a fault, and disposed to do all in his power for my happiness. I am very comfortably situated in my home, which is located in a lovely part of the city and only about a square and a half from our meeting-house, which is opposite St. John's Park — if you remember where that is. Our family consists, at present, of Mr. Everts' mother, (who expects to remain with us until some time in June), a brother, (who has just come from the north-east part of the State), who will probably stay with us some time, as he wishes to get into business in the city — Mr. W. and his little son, the former of whom we consider a great acquisi- tion to our number, as, besides being pious and exceedingly agreeable, he is uncommonly intel- lectual, and communicates constantly in the family much valuable information. In a few weeks we are expecting Mr. Everts' brother and his wife, who, you know, were in Philadelphia at the New Market-street Church. Mr. Jeremiah Everts has been injured very seriously, and it has been feared fatally, and for several weeks has been suffering severely, and finally given up to die. My husband, much concerned, consulted a physician, in this place, who hopes to be able to cure him ; and for this purpose, as soon as navigation opens, we expect him to visit us in order to have the best medical advice. M. £:. Averts. '37 " March 4th. As usual, interruptions, of vari- ous kinds, have made it necessary for me to lay by my sheet, and, until this morning, have not been able to resume my pen. Margaretta Comp- ton will be the bearer of this epistle, as she is now paying me a visit on her way from Charles- ton to Philadelphia. Very unexpectedly she arrived here on Friday evening, and expects to leave to-morrow. How much I enjoy the society of old friends, and how much should I prize a visit from my dear E. " A word more about Church affairs. In this respect, we are much blessed of a kind Provi- dence, for which I would be unfeignedly thankful. The members of the Church are very kind and affectionate, and seem unusually inclined to con- tribute to our happiness, which, you know, adds every thing to our comfort and peace of mind. Yesterday sixteen were added, twelve of whom were baptized ; at the Communion previous, seventeen. The Lord has blessed us in some degree ; but, oh, how much yet remains to be accomplished. I never supposed that I should like N"ew York as I now do, and only pray that grace may be given me to discharge the numer- ous and responsible duties I find devolving upon me. 0, dear E., much of divine assistance is needed in the case of every Christian, but a larger portion seems to be indispensable in a post like mine. " Sanctify me by Thy truth " ; " Thy word is truth." Every Wednesday afternoon we have a female prayer-meeting at our house, which is, I trust, profitable to those who meet ; 9* i 3 8 Christian Womanhood. on the first Monday afternoon in the month, a Missionary prayer-meeting. Our Sunday school is very flourishing, numbering some where about three hundred scholars. " How are you getting on in Second Street? I regret to hear of the apathy which is said to exist in most of the Philadelphia churches. And how, dear E., is your own state of mind? I hope that long ere this, the clouds that so long obscured your sky have been dissipated, and that your path is shining brighter and brighter. The only place of safety for us, is at the foot of the cross, with the disposition of little children, waiting the direction of our Heavenly Father. May this be your place and spirit, and I am sure you will be a happy and useful Christian. To- night is the Monthly Concert of prayer; how sweet and precious is this christian union, and what a cloud of incense now rises to the Head of the church, for the extension of hip kingdom. This afternoon we had a very interesting Female Missionary prayer-meeting, which I think you would have enjoyed ; M. Compton did, verj much. At our female meetings, we endeavor to have as little reserve as possible, and all feel free to take any part they see fit, either to pray, speak, or sing. The tie that binds Christian hearts is very dear, is it not? — and if dear on earth, what will it be in Heaven ? .... " Be kind enough to see Miss Bruce and request her to remember me affectionately to my old scholars and fellow-teachers, and tell her how gratified I should be to receive a letter, giv- M. 1C. Uverts. 139 ing a detailed account of their affairs. Please present my warm regards to your Pa, with my sincere wishes for his health, temporal and spiritual, but more particularly for the latter ; that, when his flesh shall fail, his soul shall be received to mansions on high. And now, dear - E., do write me soon, and pay me a visit as soon as you can make it convenient. Accept much love, and believe me, as ever, " Your attached friend, " Margaret." VHL Wome Life. "The sober comfort, all the peace which springs From the large aggregate of little things ; On these small cares of daughter, wife, or friend, The almost sacred joys of home depend." JESIDES at once taking the lead among the female laborers of the church, she stood side by side with her husband, in sharing his work and responsibilities. She visited for and with him, aided him in correspondence, 140 Christian Womanhood. thought and planned for him, and by her buoyancy, kept him from despondency when pressed by cares. Later, in addition to his arduous work as a city pastor, with a young church, while he took upon himself the toils of authorship, every page went to the printers, copied in her fair, legible, hand. Though then with young children, demanding her time and strength, there was no confliction among her duties. Necessa- rily much confined at home, she yet found time for outside claims, and foremost of these in her affection, was the cause of the Grande Ligne Mission. Thus early in its history, they struggled for existence against the persecution of the Catholics, in poverty, misapprehension, and with few friends. Madame Feller, with true heroism, wrote appeals to the churches far and near, as she could, visited among them to use her per- sonal influence, but still maintained her post, while she and her fellow-laborers de- nied themselves every luxury, and, with only life's necessities, labored, waiting the Lord's time, Mrs. Everts felt the kindling sympathy that heroism inspires in a mind M. J5T. averts. 141 capable of the same, and used all of her influence in the community to awaken and strengthen sympathy with the mission. In one of Madame Feller's visits, Mrs. Everts became personally acquainted with her, and thus commenced a friendship, which both prized, which was kept warm by the inter- change of visits, and a correspondence of years. In the family, Madame Feller was often held up as a model of noble Christian character, and the youngest born received, as a legacy, the name of Henriette Feller. It was in the enlargement and growing claims of these duties that the first years of her New York life were passed, of which we have no record but memory, which re- calls her as the ruling presence in a happy, busy home, where domestic order moved in unbroken routine ; her husband's labors lightened by her assistance, the children's daily tasks conducted by her with unfail- ing regularity, the frequent guests and round of callers, always met with cordial and ready welcome, while her peculiar du^ ties, as pastor's wife, were performed with marked and increasing devotedness. Since 142 Christian Womanhood. hei death, an old friend speaking of his lively remembrance of her beautiful charac- ter, alludes to a little incident, which occur- ed during this time, and pictures graphi- cally her tender, graceful courtesies. It was after spending the morning with Mr. Everts, in the cell of a condemned crimi- nal, they came, weary and depressed, to the latter's house, where Mrs. Everts pre- pared their late meal, and by her sym- pathetic conversation, insensibly drew them from gloomy thoughts.; then seating her- self at the piano, by her well-chosen songs and irresistibly-sweet voice, won them to repose and serenity. It is but a simple re- cord of an ordinary incident in her daily life ; but the charm of her tact made the indeli- ble impression that survived a lapse of twenty years. A letter, written in 1847, exhibits her constant and pervasive religious feeling, and, amidst her busy life, her tender sym- pathy for the friendless poor : M. $£. JPverls: 143 "New York, October 27, 1847. " How much, dear Lizzie, I enjoyed your visit ; it seemed so much like olden times. Such meetings of loved ones are green spots along the journey of life, that are truly refresh- ing and delightful. May the Lord grant us many such meetings, while it may please him to permit us to sojourn here. * * * Poor Sarah has been bowed with sorrow since you left. Her brother died the Saturday after you left. His sufferings must have been great, from his emaciated appearance after death ; but he was a patient sufferer ; so afraid was he of complain- ing, that his disease had progressed to an alarm- ing extent before any one knew it. The wife was lying sick when he died, and was in the room with his dead body from Saturday night until Monday morning. She is getting better, but, poor thing, feels very despairing, as you may imagine. " Who hath made us to differ ?" * * * We are well. Do write soon and tell us all that interests you. Please present love to Mary. With the most sincere wishes for your health and happiness, believe me, dear E., " Your truly attached friend, " Margaret." " ' Grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' Accept Mr. Everts' kind regards. — M." Another letter fills out the picture of her new home : i/^ Cfiristian Womanfiood. " New York, January 14, 1848. " My very dear E., — As these commencing words were penned, I felt my heart going out with each of them — testing their sincerity and convincing myself of the strength of my attach- ment to the friend of my youth. To one. who did not know us both, and was ignorant of our past history, these expressions might be called the language of flattery ; but to any who have followed us since our school-girl days, and have known our continued friendship, such protesta- tions would, I am sure, only be regarded as the natural gushings of affection. Have you been disposed to accuse me of neglect for not having answered your last favor sooner ? I have cer- tainly been practising self-denial in not replying ; but when your letter arrived, almost my whole leisure time was occupied in receiving calls (which, you know, the ladies here pay after New Year), and since, my husband has had some very particular writing for me to do, which I have just finished, as I took up this sheet. Thanks, many thanks, dear E., for your valua- ble presents. How kind and thoughtful you are. The only thing I regret is, that my obli- gations are increasing so rapidly that I shall never be able to cancel them. Please receive Mr. Everts' sincere acknowledgments, and our united wishes that you may enjoy, in every sense of the word, a 'happy New Year 1 — happy in yourself, being sensible of that well-spring of enjoyment which springs up within you to ever- lasting life ; happy in your relations to others, M. JT. JEJverts. 145 that nothing may interrupt the delightful inter- course you have with loved relations and friends ; happy because, like your great Exemplar, you have been doing good. Your life, I sincerely hope, will be full of blessings, enjoyed and dis- pensed — ' Peace be with thee.' " But I must not forget to tell you something about New Year's day, as you have given so- pleasant an account of your happy Christmas. It is emphatically a great day here, quite novel to Philadelphians. Well, Saturday though it was, all necessary arrangements were made early ; the table, spread partially the night before, was surveyed for the last time, to see that all was properly done, and then children and all hurried to complete the arrangements of the toilet, for fear some visitor might mortify us by calling and find us not ready to receive him. Sisters N. and M. had been spending some days, in Philadelphia, and had not returned as we ex- pected, when lo ! about ten o'clock New Year's morning, who should stop at the door but brother C. and M. They had been a day and night coming on, in consequence of a dense fog. * * * * Mr. Harding, the editor of the " Courier and Enquirer," Philadelphia, spent two or three hours with us, professing to be highly enter- tained by what was passing before him. I was favored by the presence of several ladies, namely, Mrs. Wyckoff, Mrs. Everts, senior, Mrs. N. K. Everts, and Miss M. M. Everts, to assist in the business of entertaining. The day proved to be very pleasant in-doors, but just the reverse out. 10 146 Christian W t o?nanhood. I am not quite confident about the number of calls, as I was secretary, and some times found it impossible to record the names, but have on my paper some hundred and forty. We must have had considerably over this, the ladies think. " Thus far I had progressed in this epistle, when I was obliged abruptly to stop, and have not been able to finish it until now, Monday, the 17th instant. You speak of a case of suffering in your letter, and no doubt there are many of the class in your midst ; but imagine what it must be here. Case after case of thrilling in- terest comes to our notice, of persons that must be helped, or perish ; and just now sisters were in, having called at the City Hall this morning, where they learned that seven vessels have just arrived, filled with famine-stricken and sick immigrants, some of them having been sixty days out, and down in the hold of the vessel. The Lord have mercy, and incline the benevo- lent to bring relief, or what will become of these thousands. * * * * It is said that enough emi- grants arrive here annually to form a State. Is not this the missionary field of the world ; and ere it grows up to thorns, must we not be diligent in seeding it with God's truth. I was very much interested in listening yesterday to a discourse on Home Missions from the agent of the American Sunday School Union. This agency of the Sunday School, Home Missions and colporteurs are the hope of our country's evangelization. It is impossible for the destitution to be supplied M. M. Averts. 147 by the ministry, as he showed by calculation that to do this, between three and four thousand ministers would annually have to be added to the present number ; while from all evangelical denominations put together, there are not (if I remember rightly) annually more than a thousand sent out. Let us pray for laborers to be raised up, and the means to be prospered for the Christ- ianizing of the destitute multitudes of our coun- try. No time is to be lost. If we tarry, the enemy will be possessing the ground. ". But I must hasten. How is Mary ? Please give her my love and best wishes — wishes that end not with temporal things ; but I desire that she may be, above all things, blest in soul, and made an heir of God, a joint heir of Jesus Christ ; and may have united with her in the pursuit of life eternal, her husband and children. Oh, that they may be wise for eternity. I am glad that you, dear B., take so much comfort in doing good — this is certainly an evidence of your be- ing a child of God. May these evidences con- stantly increase until you arrive at the com- fortable assurance of your adoption. * * * * Adieu, dear Elizabeth. " Your true friend, " Margaret." IX. Shadow on the Health. 11 "When" pain and anguiah wring the brow, A ministering angel thou !" jLTHOUGH possessing remark- able vigor, which was guarded with more than usual temper- ance, yet the pressure and variety of cares, seldom at once assumed, began to make serious ravages upon the health of Mr. Everts. Sleepless nights and weari- some days succeeded each other in alarming rapidity, and simple efforts at recreation served but as temporary relief. Thus he struggled through one year, with a short interval of partial health ; then, with his wife and family, he withdrew from the city for the summer of 1849, hoping, in the country's seclusion, to " knit up the raveled sleeve of care," and regain his lost strength. M. 1£. Everts* 149 Yet even here, amidst quiet beauty, and simple, homely life, attended by his wife's assiduous and ingenious efforts to please and interest, the tired brain kept up a diz- zying round of thoughts and plans, and rest seemed unapproachable. His friends, now thoroughly alarmed, proposed his crossing the ocean, by sea air, the entire change of climate and scene, and the whole- some fatigues of travel, to regain health. They were not a rich church; but the generosity of a few provided the way, and urged him on ; and the city pastors, with rare friendliness, proposed to fill the pulpit in turn, if no better plan were devised. In that shattered condition of mind and body, Mr. E. could arouse to no active exertion, and his wife took upon herself all necessary arrangements for such a change. As it was decided that a perma- nent supply would better advance the church interests, she went from one min- ister to another in the city, among the deacons and responsible men of the chnrch, consulting and obtaining counsel ; then in correspondence asking advice and coopera- ij;o Christum Womanhood. tion. Meanwhile she completed his per- sonal preparations, made such plans for the family as set his mind at ease for the fu- ture, and bore her burden of anxiety and foreboding with an enforced cheerfulness and even demeanor that is astonishing to look back upon. The last thing was a visit to the artist's, to obtain a family group for the dear wanderer's cheer when far from them all ; and here the mother's face, sur- rounded by her rosy family, despite the smile that gave the constant curve to her lips, shows haggard and worn. In a letter to Mr. Everts' mother, to whom she would naturally turn for sympa- thy, she details the experience of this period : " New York, March 5, 1850. M Dear Mother, — Had any one told me when you left that months would elapse before I wrote to you, it would have seemed an utter impossi- bility ; and doubtless it would not- have been so long delayed, had not Martha been constantly writing, and keeping you posted up in all mat- ters that are transpiring. If it seemed proper, I could fill this sheet with details which would look, in even your eyes, as almost, if not quite, M. J£. averts. 151 sufficient cause for my long silence ; but I has- ten to matters which will interest you more than apologies, hoping that your kind heart will ex- cuse what may have appeared like forgetfulness. Since we parted,' dear mother, I have had new experience. My dear husband's health began to fail seriously about the time of your leaving, although you know he had not been well for months before. His prostration was extremely painful, affecting so as to unfit him for any thing to which he had been accustomed, and depressing most sadly his spirits. I had for weeks, nay, months, to give myself almost entirely to him, sometimes reading until he was wearied ; some- times walking ; then talking and endeavoring to cheer him, so that he might not be left without entertainment ; and I can never bear to think of the time that he went without me to Saratoga, although we both thought him able to go unat- tended, when 1 supposed him to be gaining every day. While he was there, I visited my father's to see my sister Jane, who was supposed to be dangerously ill, and on returning, found him home, but not improved. You may imagine my disappointment. Autumn had arrived, when he had expected to be able to resume his duties ; but instead of doing so, I found him totally dis- couraged. When, at length, a voyage was pro- posed, he was completely unnerved, and, at first, could not endure the thought. As a last resort, his mind was bent upon going to Philadelphia, which proved to be a wise step, as he began to improve immediately. Thus you see my summer 152 Christian Woman?iood \ and fall must have been one of great anxiety ; but I desire to bless the Lord with ray whole heart that he has dealt so kindly with him, and that his prospects are good for returning health. I have been thus particular, knowing that every thing in relation to your dear son is of the deep- est interest. The letter you receive with this will give you accounts of him subsequent to leaving this country ; it came by the last steam- er, along with one for the church and some for me. " But as you are desirous to know about church matters, I will give some account of our meeting, which lasted some seven weeks, if I mistake not. At first, though the preaching was faithful and pointed, the Spirit's convicting and converting influences were wanting, and few seemed inclined to inquire for salvation. At length Mr. Westcott thought that we must either stop our meetings or have a day of fasting and prayer. The latter course being decided on, the church came up well ; the lecture-room was well filled at our day-meeting ; brethren and sisters confessed to each other and to God ; all seemed humbled, in view of the low state of piety, and renewed their covenant with God. From that time a change was manifest ; inquirers multiplie'd, were converted ; others took their places, until some twenty-eight have followed their Lord in a public profession; while others remain, what number I can not say, who have not yet taken that step How good the Lord has been I Pray that the work may go on, and that many M. .2T. averts. 153 more from the giddy multitude around may be brought in. mother ! I have felt such solici- tude for S. and M. What do you think of them ? What will become of them, unless the lethargy which is upon them be removed ? May the Lord arouse them before the slumber of death settles upon their souls." We give the following letters almost en- tire, as the journalizing record she kept for her husband will be the most faithful ac- count we could offer of her responsible, busy life during his absence ; and the nar- rative of the few weeks, all that we can command now from her pen, tells the story of the nine months : " Novembeb 5, 1849. 11 My deae absent Husband, — Another week has sped, and admonishes me to send you another communication, as I am desirous of letting you hear from home once every week. Oh, if I could only know how you are, and how near to your place of destination ! " ' Would I could send my spirit o'er the deep, Would I could wing it like a bird to thee.' How soon would all that is uncertain become matter of information. 'Twill be two weeks to- morrow since you left, and it certainly seems 10* 154 C7i?istia)i Jfoma?i7iood. like a month. If the captain's conjecture be correct, you will reach Havre by Saturday of this week. 1 fondly hope that you have derived all the benefit from a sea voyage that we have anticipated ; and that you will, together with vour dear companions, be prepared to enjoy all the varieties of the ever -changing scenery through which you may pass. I was glad to read in the " Havre Journal " to-day some re- marks in regard to the health of Paris. It was spoken of as being a remarkably salubrious city, and those visiting it, both English and Ameri- can, bore ample testimony to this fact. It must be a source of great consolation to you all, to know that so many prayers are constantly as- cending on your behalf. May the Lord hear and answer them all. It gives me pleasure to say to my dear husband that his family are well. *Sis is beginning to look herself again ; while the older daughters understand better the nature of your absence, she wants you to come back. This morning she said (half crying), ' Mamma write letter, papa come home,' and made some signifi- cant expression which I now forget. Her com- mand of language is, I think, rather remarkable. She talks about things being pandid (splendid), and says, is it not deppy (dreadful), etc. To-day she was lamenting over Aunt Anna's bird that died yesterday, and went about saying in the most pathetic tones : 'little birdie sing no more, bird is dying ; aint it a pity.' She is very interest- ing, but very difficult to govern. She is impul- sive and excitable in the extreme. Pray for me, M. 1C. JZverts. 1^5 dearest one, that I may know how to discipline all our dear children. I feel my incompetency most painfully ; give me some hints that may serve to throw light on my path. * * * I left off in my narrative in my last letter at Mon- day : I will resume it, and begin with Tuesday evening. Attended lecture by Brother D. ; subject, Search the Scriptures. He did well — • too well, Brother J. thought, compared with his prayer, etc. ; but I did not see any evidence of plagiarism. His case came up on Wednesday evening, but was too late to be acted on, so has been postponed until another month. J. thinks badly of his having been so long at Newark without joining the Baptists, or even attending their church simply because he did not like the preaching. I hope the church will do right in the matter. He proposes to have the foreign field in view. The early part of the meeting was taken up with discussing the subject of a supply during your absence. . . . . After much talking, being greatly influenced by your opinion in the matter, they decided to pass a unanimous vote to invite Mr. B. to preach during your ab- sence. The members were told by Brother E., senior, that you would be better off, so far as dollars and cents are concerned, to accept the offer of the city pastors, but that you preferred a man who should be devoted to them. Wednes- day was also the anniversary of our Grand Ligne Mission. We had a good meeting. Mr. Tracy's remarks were very interesting. Your departure was noticed last week in the * Recorder ' very 1^6 Ch?islia?i Womanhood. kindly, as you will see ; also, to-day, in the ' Tribune.' that is, the fact is mentioned. As you will get the ' Recorder,' I will not tell - you its hews Accept love from sisters and brother, and many friends, besides kisses in profusion from children and myself. Papa's son is sweet as ever. Love to George and Charles. 11 As turns the needle to the pole Forever with fidelity; So turns the magnet of my soul, "Where'er thou art, my love, to thee. " Your own devoted " Margaret." " November 26, 1849. 11 My dearly loved Husband, — Here is Mon- day evening, and I am admonished by its return, that it is time to give you another news, as well as love letter. A steamer arrived yesterday, and I had the faint hope that it might be the bearer of a letter from your dear self ; but it is too soon, and I must be content to await another arrival. Oh, with what joy will I hail the arri- val of a sheet from you ! Yesterday I thought of you as spending a Sabbath on land, but could not place you at any point about which there could be any certainty. Yes. dearest, my spirit visits you often in your wanderings ; and was this the sphere to enjoy purely spiritual inter- course, we should frequently be communing with each other. I trust your health has been greatly M. J£. Uverts. 157 improved by the voyage ; and now that you have, if prosperous gales have attended you, reached your sought-for haven, it affords us no little plea- sure to think of you as on terra Jirma, no long- er '* rocked in the cradle of the deep," But I must to my narrative, which was continued up to Monday last. On Tuesday, attended the lec- ture, which was very good, indeed; text, 'my soul followeth hard after thee, thy right hand up- holdeth me.' "Wednesday, took tea at Mr. Ezra Smith's, and had a very pleasant visit. Thurs- day evening, visited Evers' Panorama of New York, Brooklyn, etc. — a very fine painting and truthful delineation, which will, doubtless, be eagerly visited in Europe. Friday evening, went to prayer-meeting, and enjoyed it very much. Mr. E. was not present, having gone to Essex, Connecticut, to preach a trial sermon. Sabbath, we were supplied, very acceptably, in the morning by Mr. C, and in the evening by Mr. M. The latter took for his text the words 'Being found in fashion a man, he humbled him- self, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.' It was a very fine discourse, and I enjoyed it much ; but what an original he is in every thing. For instance, in giving out notices, he mentioned a meeting to be held this morning at the Tabernacle, to hear the recital of a, certain man's experience, who, some time ago, left the Catholics, and is now about joining the Grand Ligne Mission ; he said if the wife of the respected pastor of the church was pre- sent, she was particularly invited to be present, 158 Christian Woma?i?iood. as she was known to take interest in that mis- sion, and exerted great influence in its behalf. I felt, as you'may suppose, very much mortified, to be thus singled out, but had to overlook it, as it wasifr. M. Accordingly, to-day, Mrs. Dea- con Main, E., little E., and myself, went to the meeting aforesaid, and a very interesting one it was too. Miss Jane Jones ( the name of the once Catholic nun), gave a most interesting account of her conversion. The Home Mission Society have at last unanimously agreed to take the mission in Canada under their patronage, but wish the ladies' associations still to keep on as usual. The dear children are well. E. and M. are studying geography, grammar, spelling, read- ing, arithmetic. I feel deeply the care of guiding them in right paths, and beg the pray- ers of my dear, inexpressibly dear husband, that wisdom from above may be granted. How your absence deepens the past conviction, that you fill every place in my heart, only subordinate to that higher love for our Heavenly Parent. No other human being does any thing towards filling the void your absence occasions. I live on the hope of seeing you, and count the rolling weeks, thinking that each one makes the number less. Dearest, let me hear often, regularly, if possible. Many inquiries are made for you, and the ques- tion 'have you heard from Brother Everts?' IJiave frequently had to answer in the negative. Have heard nothing from Philadelphia since I last wrote. Please give much love to the dear cou- sins. I hope you will have no difficulty in yield- M. K. JEJ verts. 159 ing to each others' wishes, but will journey on, most fraternally and happily. Accept love from all — sisters, brother, friends — especially B., and many kisses from your little birds in their west- ern nest, and from your unchanging and loving mate, Margaret." " December 3, 1849. " My dear, too dear William. . . . . To- morrow will be six weeks since you left us. Just three, according to the papers, you were on the main. How great a blessing is the press ; thus far have we been relieved from suspense, without hearing a word from yourself. Dearest husband, enjoy your trip as much as possible, for I trust you will never have to leave me so long again. Do not think I am sorry you have gone ; oh no ! my judgment is satisfied of the wisdom of the step. I humbly trust that our heavenly Father designs it for his glory and your best good, and the thought of again behold- ing you, enjoying something like the health you did when we first met, buoys up my spirits, and makes our separation tolerable. There is so much of mercy mingled in our cup, that we should be deeply ungrateful not to bless the Lord for his tender compassion towards us. My letter last week closed with Tuesday evening. Wednesday evening was church meeting. I did not go, but Brother J. did Thursday was thanksgiving. Mr. E. preached. His text : * He hath not dealt so with any nation.' I took the three girls. Had a comfortable dinner, and 160 Christian Womanfiood. spent the rest of the day at home. . . . Friday, M. and myself gave considerable part of the day to fixing a play-closet for the children. You know there is no room or closet which can be spared for this purpose, so I took some money their uncle J. gave them, and added some more to it, and purchased a nice closet to stand in the recess of the basement, underneath the clock. We carpeted it, papered it, and arranged a bed- room, parlor, kitchen, and made ottomans, a divan, put up a mantel piece, hung pictures, put in a small glass centre-table that T have had for years, etc. E. then purchased a Britannia tea-set, a clothes-horse, a little flat-iron and stand, two tables, and I added three chairs and four little dolls. It is a beautiful little affair, and will beguile many an otherwise tedious day. The children regularly learn their lessons, and are improving. They are much out in the open air, when it is pleasant, as I have put up a swing in the back yard, which affords them constant pleasure. Bub is just as good as he can be. You will be glad to know that Sis goes quietly to bed every night with the older children with- out any difficulty. We had some little trouble in breaking up her old habit. Friday evening attended prayer-meeting, which was interesting, though few were present, owing, probably, for one thing, to a farewell meeting of Dr. Cote and the Nun at the Olivet Street Church Sunday, Mr. E. gave us a good sermon from the words : ' I knew a man in Christ some fourteen years ago.' It was on the unspeakable glories M. JK. Uverls. 161 of heaven. His subject for the evening an- nounced : ' Different degrees in heaven and hell.' The afternoon was communion. Suitable mention was made of your arrival at Havre to the church. All are anxious to hear from you. . . . Some of the Boston churches have cheering indications of revivals. The Lord graciously extend the work till our own city be shaken to its centre by the powerful operation of his Spirit We are all doing well, and all, from youngest to old- est, join in sending love. Little Sis asked me, as she went to bed, if papa was coming in the steamer next week. Kind regards from B. S. And now, dearest, I have told you all that you will not be likely to hear through other channels. Tell G-. and C. we wish very much to hear from them — how things seem in the old world. Give them much love. Please present my kind re- gards to Dr. D., if you. see him. May the Lord bless you in body and soul. Oh, to tell you how deeply I love you, and how I long for your society, is impossible. May heaven grant you a safe return prays your own true " Margaret." " December 11, 1849. " My dear Husband How rejoiced am I, to hear of your improved health ; how kind is our heavenly Father thus to favor you. But I am not without many fears that your habit of close observation will retard your recovery. Now you know that your difficulty is such that this kind of effort must be injurious. 11 162 C?irisHa?i Womanhood. You certainly ought to be content with seeing less, until your head gains strength : suppose your physical health is greatly improved, and your head continues feeble, the disproportion will be most painful. Your past experience is not going to do for you what I fondly hoped it would, if you begin thus early to do the very thing you have been at before. Be admonished. Do not write any thing except your letters for some time. Recreate — be lazy ; do not over-fa- tigue yourself with seeing. I shall feel that you are verily culpable, unless you curb yourself in the things I have mentioned. Promise me you will, for your own and our sakes. Do listen to my admonitions. Think of the weakness of last summer, and dread its return ; very little would bring it back ; let not present vigor deceive and mislead you. Pray about this, and beg restrain- ing and directing grace. I have been somewhat troubled with the old complaint of the teeth and face The Sewing Society met here last week, and although the meeting was not large, it was pleasant. To-morrow we meet at Mrs. Terry's. Thursday evening, Mr. N. called, and took us to hear Mr. Gough, the temperance lec- turer. It was deeply interesting : he is a re- markably natural orator, and one calculated to do much good in this cause. I wish you could hear him. To-night has been lecture evening; quite a number got around me to learn what I had heard about you. You will write occasion- ally to the church, will you not ? . . . . Nothing of special interest remains for me to tell about M. K. Averts. 163 our church. Oh, that God would pour out his Spirit and convert souls. Is Dr. D. much en- couraged. I am very glad that you have met with him ; it must seem like old times for you to see his face. Give my warm regards to himself and wife. I hope you will find a pleasant travel- ing companion going south. But it is getting late, and I must stop writing. We all, children and servants, talk much about you, and I did intend letting them make their mark, at least, in a letter to you ; but as they are all nicely asleep, it can not be. "We are still in comfort- able health. The Lord be praised. Darling husband, good-night ; remember my admonitions and heed my warnings. May the Lord bless you a thousand-fold. I hope to get all your letters ere long. Good-bye, good-bye. Accept the love of all the family, and the undying attach- ment of your own " Margaret." " January 5, 1850. " Dearest and best Beloved, — : Your most welcome letter of the 12th reached me on the 31st, and I should have replied before this time had not the opportunities for writing been abridged. It seems a long time since I wrote, Christmas night being the last, and for want of holding communion with your dear self, my spirits have suffered. How glad I am that you are en* joying yourself, and have so much improved in health. The Lord be praised for his great good- ness. You wish that I could enjoy sight-seeing 164 Christian Womanhood. with you ; to have done so would have afforded me the most unfeigned pleasure, had the thing been possible ; but for us both to be away from our dear children and house would not be justifiable, perhaps, except in the extremest case. How glad shall I be to sit and listen to your accounts, and thus live over the scenes with you. I can see the propriety of what you say in relation to more minute descriptions, it might tax your head too much ; forbear when there is any such danger ; I had rather miss the enjoyments such accounts would give, than to have you suffer any injury in consequence. Remember that you have not written to the church ; do, immediately. .... I will now, as well as I am able, go back to the time where I left off my narative. The day following Christmas, M., A., and myself attended Sewing Society at Mr. R.'s. On the way home, stopped at Mr. B.'s. . . . Thursday, it was announced that the Hungarian exiles (the Governor of Couoion, his wife, sons, daugh- ter, and Mile. Jargello, who has made herself so famous in battle) would be in the City Hall to receive visitors. Being much interested in their late ineffectual struggles for liberty, M. and I desired much to see them. Mr. J. accompan- ied us, and we had the pleasure of taking them by the hand Sunday, Mr. W. preached from the words : * Ye ask and receive not, be- cause ye ask amiss.' An excellent practical sermon, and one calculated to do good. In the evening, our Sunday school held its anniversary. .... Monday, we were getting ready for New M. K. Averts. 165 Year's ; but made little preparation. Wednes- day evening was chnrGh-meeting. M. and the children send love and kisses. Sarah wants you to be sure and visit her country, and her relations, also. " Sabbath evening, January 6. — I have re- served a little space to let you know the decision of the church to-day, about a series of meetings. It was voted very generally to hold them. To- morrow is to be religiously observed". This morning, the quarterly contribution was taken up, and Mr. "W. remarked that a liberal collection was requested, inasmuch as the church was doing as every church should do for their pastor in poor health — taking care of him, and were also at some additional expense in supplying the pulpit. The congregation this morning was large. The greatest interest was manifested by many, to-day, who enquired after you. They love you much, I feel well persuaded. This morning, the text was : ' Christ died for our sins.' 0, my dear husband, how great was that love ! how dread- ful the weight of sin that rested on his holy soul ! I blush when I think how little apprecia- tion I have of this work, and felt to-day a desire to consecrate myself afresh to him who causes me to hope. But such is the little confidence I have in myself, that I dared not promise, but prayed for quickening grace, and that I might be fastened so firmly to the throne of God as never again to conform so much to the world, and so little to Christ. I know you pray for your unworthy wife : pray on. I love to bear you 166 Christian Womanhood. on my heart to the throne of grace ; there, by faith, we can meet and prefer our requests. The Lord grant us a precious revival — a great in- gathering of souls. Oh, how I shall prize you, if you live to return. I will try to wait patiently. Give me some idea, when you write, at what time I may expect you home. And now, dearest one, adieu. Little Sis asked me if I was sending kisses to papa in my letter. She said: 4 I send a hundred and five.' Bub has four teeth, and is getting several more, but is pretty well. Good-bye, darling; may heaven's choicest bless- ings descend and be with you. u Your devoted " Wife." She completes the story of these anxious, busy months, and sketches her husband's travels, in another letter : " April 5, 1850. _ " My Dear E., — Doubtless you have almost felt like reproaching me for my long silence, and I confess to considerable self-reproach when I think how many months have intervened since your departure. But really, my dear girl, the past winter has been one of such numerous and continual cares, as to furnish my only apology. "We have seldom had so much sickness ; first one child, and then another — Sis two or three times, and Willie as often. R. Griffith came to spend the day before New Year's with me, was M. JT. Uverls: 167 taken very sick that night, and . obliged to re- main several days ; again she came, and stayed a few days, but was none of the time very well. Then I was sick a short time, myself ; and last, but not least, Samuel has been confined to the house most of the time, for five weeks ; is bet- ter, but not well. Mr. J. returned about the last of February, and has been quite an invalid ever since ; probably will never be well. For a month, I had Mr. ~W. (the minister who preached some eight or nine weeks for us,) in our family; so you see my hands have been full. In addition to this, our evening meetings lasted about seven weeks, which left me no leisure for writing, ex- cept to my dear husband, and what, besides, was absolutely necessary. These meetings, dearE., I should have been glad to have you attend. The truth was solemnly, plainly, and affectionately told, and some thirty or more persons, we trust, have been savingly converted. What a mercy that even such a number have been induced to turn unto God, with purpose of heart. ! what is not religion worth ! It is every thing ; how valuable, eternity will only enable us to compre- hend. In my own experience, I find much cause for unspeakable gratitude, that I have ever ' been permitted to embrace its blessed truths, and trust its consoling promises. Especially in the season of trial through which my Heavenly Father has seen fit to call me to pass, recently ; prostrating the health of one who is the light of life to my heart, and associated with all my pres- ent and future enjoyment in this world, have I 168 Christian Womanhood. felt the value of that faith which reposes itself on God. Yes, dear E., I have found it sweet to trust a covenant-keeping God, and in every hour of anguish and perplexity, to seek his presence and pour out my soul before him, and then the peace, nay, joy, which followed such exercises, it has seldom before been my lot to enjoy. Oh, that my friend could feel this confidence, and could cast her cares on that kind and faithful Friend. Can you not do it, E. ? Do you still persist in declining offers of mercy and salvation which were never made to the angels who fell ? Do you not see how dishonoring to God is unbe- lief, in the face of so many and abundant prom- ises to those who will put their trust in his mercy and salvation ? Come in the simplicity of a child, forgetting all the past, the remembrance of which seems to be such a hindrance to your progress ; tell Him your sins, your fears, your difficulties ; seek his Spirit to guide you into all truth, and with the docility of Mary of old, sit at His feet and never more depart from his pres- ence. This is your privilege ; doubt not, ques- tion not, but with the desperation of a drowning man, seize the only object which is extended to save you. .... But I must hasten to tell you about Mr. Everts' journeyings. M. wrote about the time he was to leave Paris. This he did about the first of the year, having for his travel- ing companion, an Episcopal minister, by the name of Parkman, nephew of Dr. Parkman of Boston, whose name is so painfully associated in our minds. They passed through the extent of M. K. averts. 169 France, stopping at its principal cities in their route, viewing with delight the magnificent scenery of its rivers, the fruitfulness of its vine- clad hills, and stood at last upon the shore washed by the waters of the Mediterranean. At Mar- seilles they took passage in a steamer for Civita Vecchia, the seaport of Rome, t ,uching in their voyage at Genoa, and passing the islands of Cor- sica and Elba, the former the birth-place of Napoleon, and the latter his prison. From Civita Vecchia they proceeded to Rome, where they remained about twelve days, busily em- ployed in making observations. The greatest objects of interest there, Mr. Everts says, are its churches, upon which much wealth and art have been lavished. These, and a few private galle- ries belonging to palaces, may be said to be its lions. Its classical associations, of course, to the scholar, make it a place intensely interest- ing ; its connection with the apostolic church and many of the early Christians invests it with in- creased interest. Now, however, it is the seat of the Papacy, and darkness, to a fearful extent, in this age of light, covers the people. Most of the churches have been built to commemorate some traditional fact, such as to preserve the identical staircase which the Saviour ascended in Pilate's palace, and which is now ascended only by the faithful on their knees. Another preserves the footprints of the Saviour on a mar- ble slab. One, the curb of the well upon which Jesus sat when he talked with the Samaritan woman. Another preserves the heads of two of 11* lyo Christian Womanhood. the apostles in urns. One has in it a piece of the Saviour's cross ; another, the altar upon which Peter performed High Mass. But I must forbear, as time would fail to enter into details ; suffice it to say, these churches are most elabo- rately decorated, both here and in other Italian cities, such as Naples, Florence, etc. Some have altars of porphyry and alabaster, and are set with all manner of precious stones. Leaving Rome, they turned their faces south, and entered the Kingdom of Naples ; visited Herculaneum, Pompeii, and Vesuvius — saw an eruption of this mountain, which, occurring, as it did, on a dark evening, about half-past nine o'clock, presented a scene of awful sublimity, the heavens appear- ing to be on fire, and the mountain red, and sending forth its fiery flood. He had the good fortune to see the Pope and hear him perform Mass ; speaks of him as looking very much as we have been accustomed to see him in pictures. Leaving Naples, they proceeded to Leghorn, Florence, Pisa, Bologna, and a number of other places of great interest ; stopped at Venice, laid at anchor in its beautiful bay one delightful evening, and thence proceeded to Vienna, where Mr. Everts was when he last wrote. He ex- pected to go to London by the way of the Ger- man States, and anticipated being in England about the first of April. Until the time of the anniversaries in May, he intends visiting Scot- land, Ireland, and England, and as soon as the meetings close, purposes taking passage for America. His health is much improved, and he M. JT. J&verts. 171 writes in good spirits, for which I trust I feel truly thankful. .... " Your sincere friend, " Margaret." Shadow and Sunshine. 11 Patience and Sorrow strove* "Which should express her goodliest. You have seen Sunshine and rain at once — those happiest smiles, Seemed not to know what guests were in her eyes." jHE return, so anxiously awaited, 1 occurred in the following June. Mr. Everts was certainly better ; and his wife, relieved of much of her long-borne burden, felt the tense life deserting her, and began to droop in utter bodily weakness. Yielding to the solicitations of her friend E., combined with her husband's urgent demands, she left home for a brief respite from care, and went to Hartford, Connecticut. From X n 2 Christian Womanliood. there she writes to her hushand, betraying the anxieties of the fond wife and mother: "July 22, 1850. "My Dear Husband,— Your expected and welcome letter I found at the post office, on Sat- urday, which, you may imagine, I read and re- read with lively interest. Thanks to our Heavenly Friend and Protector, that you all have been preserved. I was so delighted to hear you say you had "risen after having a re- freshing night's sleep." This, I hope, has been the kind of rest you have had each night since I have been away. But how does dear little Willie fare, in this particular? Has he become accustomed to the change? Dear child ; I should much regret his spending such uneasy nights during my absence. Does little darling Margaret seem°tobe enjoying herself ? or does she miss her mother ? Give them kisses without number, and tell them mother thanks them for the dear kisses they sent her. Have you heard any thing from Fair Haven ? Has that letter been finished and sent ? The children will be anxious to hear from home, I know. Do write to them and relieve their suspense ; my anxieties are great that their visit should be pleasant and profitable, to mind and body ; their age, dearest, is an important and critical one ; their characters are fast moulding and receiving the impression which is to characterize them through life. Do we sufficiently realize it ? I trust when they M. JT. averts. 173 return, wisdom and grace will be given us to dis- charge well our duty. Now for a few words about myself. I am very well ; quite recovered from the difficulty under which I was laboring, and have been en- joying myself very much Hartford is a lovely place — more so than I thought when I was here before. There is much wealth, and a large share of talent, in the Pulpit, at the Bar, and in Medicine, as I have been told Yesterday morning we went to hear Mr. Mur- dock. His house is a very neat and pleasant one, in good taste and repair, has an organ and good choir, and is located in a very pleasant part of the city Mr. Bushnell being absent, we went in the afternoon to hear the venerable Dr. Beecher, who preached for Dr. Haws. His text was, " The fool hath said in his heart," etc. This he tried to prove from the practice and con- duct of mankind, since the deluge to this time, and then showed the folly of it by its destroying, at the same time, all evidence that man was any more than animal, subject to material laws, with- out being an accountable being, because not a free agent ; blotting out heaven ; making death an eternal sleep, and making all things around us, bearing such wonderful marks of design, to be without a designer, the result ^of nature's operations. The sermon displayed a vigor of mind quite remarkable for one of his years, although some of his friends say he is but a shadow of his former self. This week is quite an interesting one here ; the exercises connected *74 Christian Womanhood. with the commencement of Trinity College, take place. Are you coming on ? I think you would be much pleased to spend a few days here. "Write immediately and tell me to look for you." .... About this time she speaks of personal and family sickness : " I was taken sick in the night on Sabbath last with something like cholera morbus, and have been confined to my bed, and feeble, since that time, until to-day is the first that I have felt able to resume my pen While I was absent, darling Willie was taken sick with sum- mer complaint, caused by teething, and when I arrived, I found him quite sick ; he got worse and worse, until we feared we should lose him. Oh, M., what a struggle was that to bow in sub- mission to the Divine will, and say : ' Thy will be done.' But I trust that, notwithstanding his critical situation revealed the depth of my love for him, I could commit him, and every other dear object, into my heavenly Father's hands, and felt a quiet comfort that all would be well. But our dear boy still lives, and blessed be His adorable name for such goodness ; and although not well yet, was able, we thought, to come here. The journey was very fatiguing, and none of us have been very well since ; but he is bet- ter, I hope, to-day, and will now got along, if nothing pulls him back." M. JT. Uverls. 175 Under date January 19, 1849, again she writes : " Deae M'., — I have feared, a number of times, that you would think I had little regard for my word, as the last thing, almost, at. parting, was the promise that I would write you as soon as I could after reaching home. Now, before going farther, let me beg you to excuse me, and believe me that my time for correspondence is exceed- ingly limited. Half of my time, nearly, while mother was absent, was spent in writing for your brother, since which time we have had an unusual amount of sickness ; first, myself, then your brother, then each of the children in turn, and, last of all, mother has had a very severe cold, from which, however, she is now recover- ing You have not heard, I think, of Miss S.'s recent generous donation, intended as New Year's present to the Swiss Mission, namely, one hundred dollars, in addition to what mother mentioned she had done, while here some weeks ago. I have not yet received it, but am daily expecting the amount from Philadelphia. This intelligence will be particularly gratifying to sister J. and Mr. A. How wonderfully the Lord can raise up friends for his cause ! Ma- dame Feller and Dr. Cote spent an evening with us while Elizabeth was here, which augmented her interest very much. She, with many others, venerates the character of her who has been styled by Mrs. Hale ' the heroine of the nine- teenth century.' iy6 Christian Woman?iood . But, as the summer and fall wore away, the conviction that Mr. Everts needed a permanent change from the intense life of New York City grew to be certainty ; not only in the minds of himself and wife, as they were as'sured by their medical adviser, but the church recognized the fact, as they saw the immediate freshness travel and rest had lent giving way to something of the former languor and weariness. It was soon decided that a removal must be made from city activity to country quiet ; and although some proposed an entire cessation of ministerial duties, after due deliberation, a call was accepted to the pastorate of the Wheatland Church, in Monroe County, of the same State. So, with tearful farewells, the New York home was broken up, many tender ties separated that bound the hearts of the church to these two, who had proved their love by years of faithful devotion. But warm friendships then cemented, time has only strengthened; and the virtues of that pastor's wife still live in the hearts of many to whom her beautiful life endeared her. M. JT. Uverls. 177 The following testimony to Mrs. E.'s character is the more interesting, as Dr. WyckofF, the writer, was for years an in- mate of their home : 11 My deae Brother, — With sorrowing hearts we have just learned of your deep affliction. My grief could scarcely be deeper if an own sister had suddenly deceased. Your dear wife was greatly beloved and admired by all our family. .... Mrs. Everts was distinguished for a keen sense of the proprieties of life. She was a model daughter, sister, wife, and mother. Gifted in music, her soul was attuned to harmony. Sanctified by grace, her spirit breathed love. " In the church, and in the world, she was always doing good. Humble, devout, and be- nevolent, she sought not her own, but the things that are Christ's. For these she labored with a zeal unaffected, and a success almost unexam- pled. " In her home she was the presiding angel. With warm affections and quick sensibilities she united a patience and cheerfulness, which ren- dered her the light of the house. Firm in prin- ciple and kind in manner, she maintained order as much by love as by authority. Always oblig- ing and seeking the welfare of others, she made every one happy around her. It was a great privilege to enjoy her presence in the social cir- cle. It was one far greater to share the comforts of her happy home. 12 178 Christian Womanhood, The following lines, addressed to her, we doubt not, expressed the feeling of many other friends she left behind : TO MARGARET. Td strew thy path with flowers fair, That breathe sweet odors round; And not one thorny shrub should e'er Upon thy path be found. I'd circle thee with joys as bright As summer's golden day, While hope, on glittering wings of light, Should hover o'er thy way. Truth should her radiant halo fling About thy placid brow, While peace should pearly treasures bring, And love before thee bow. Thus life should be one sunny day That knows not of decline; The hopes, the joys, the vision gay, Should be forever thine. Alas, dear friend, 'tis all a dream, Though witching fair it be, These treasures are not what they seom, Nor fitting gifts for thee. I'll cast the magic wand away, Fling off the siren's guise, And bid the pen of truth portray The things I'd have thee prize. M. 1C. JEJverts. 179 And what I trace, I pray may be Forever, ever thine: A pure, a blest eternity, And joy that's all divinei July 19, 1848. Cornelia. XL The Country Home, "And the land was wide and quiet." J|HEATLA.^TD, as its name indi- ly[J cates, is a rural centre of pros- Mil P erous fertility. The township proper is distant from Rochester pome fifteen miles, and is but a succession of large and finely cultivated farming estates, whose beauty of situation, as well as richness of soil, combine to give it a notoriety even in New 'York State, justly distinguished for her beautiful rural dis- tricts. The Baptist Church here, long es- tablished, comprised much of the wealth 180 CfirisHan WomanJwod '. and social position of the surrounding country, and enough of shining evangelical piety to give it a well-known name in the denomination. Mr. Everts' connection with this church is sufficiently note-worthy in itself, as a remarkable chapter in religious progress, also, is so intimately involved with Mrs. E.'s life, that we must pause to give some side details. To a stranger, the location of the church seemed singularly inappropriate. The tide of subsequent settlement had drifted off to either side, where growing villages had sprung up, unprovided with places of wor- ship, while the meeting-house stood appa- rent guardian of the city of the dead that lay under its shadow, the few adjacent houses hardly relieving the spot from its solitary character. A few months after Mr. E.'s coming, he spent part of a week, including the Sab- bath, with some friends in Churchville, the largest of the neighboring villages. Here he found a handful, principally holding membership with the Wheatland Church, who were waiting some outside impulse. M. J£. JEJverts. 181 A few vigorous measures of meeting, soli- citation and subscription so won on the sympathies of the community, that it was - but a few months before Mr. Everts was sent for to assist, with others, in the dedi- cation of a chapel, complete in its appoint- ments of taste and convenience. The success of this enterprise served as inspiration to other of the distant mem- bers. In Clifton, where for years they had held occasional meetings in the school- house, with the advice and cooperation of their pastor, they increased their appoint- ments, and maintained them regularly. Later, they opened a subscription-list, for the erection of a Baptist church, which was quickly filled, their house built; and before Mr. E. left Wheatland, they organ- ized a church body, whose regular congre- gations, 'Sunday school and prayer-meeting attendance soon arose to an average equal- ing the old church. Meanwhile, the village of Mumford, but three miles on the other side of the Wheat- land Church, and within sight of the resi- dences of some of its principal members, 182 Christian Womanhood. numbering some four hundred in popula- tion, remained a missionary field, destitute of a church. During the second summer of Mr. E.'s pastorate in that region, after numerous occasional appointments, he commenced a regular Sunday afternoon service in Mumford. These meetings grew in numbers and interest, and in the autumn they held protracted meetings, which resulted in the conversion and bap- tism of forty persons. Church organization followed, and then the building of a chapel equal in beauty and fitness to its neighbor- ing predecessors, which Mr. E. was called upon, as its spiritual father, to dedicate, even after he had left the State for another field of labor. So note-worthy was Mr. E.'s work whilst in New York, and now in Wheatland, that a correspondent of the "New York Re- corder " (now " Examiner and Chronicle ") on Church Extension writes : " Some of your ' readers will remember the inde- fatigable efforts, in years gone by, of our old friend, Rev. W. W. Everts, late of New York, now of Wheatland, when in M. JT. Averts. 183 the meetings of the Hudson River Asso- ciation, he stood up, year after year, to urge upon his brethren the necessity of cultivating the destitute fields in our im- mediate vicinity. And now that he is removed to another association, it must be gratifying for him to know that the work for which he had so long toiled has been at length commenced in a man- ner that warrants us in looking forward to great and glorious results I was gratified to learn that the same spirit of domestic missionary enterprise which ani- mated him while in the bounds of our As- sociation, has been actively developed in the Monroe Association, with which he is now connected." Also, the Committee of the Monroe Baptist Association, within whose bounds this work had been inaugurated, at their regular meeting with the Sweden Church, " Hesolved, That, in the opinion of this Committee, the measures recently adopted by Rev. W. W. Everts, upon the field of his own pastoral labor, are highly impor- tant in their bearing upon the general 184 Christian Woma?ihood. objects proposed in our present organiza- tion.* That we pledge Brother Everts our cordial fellowship in this work, and assure him of our confidence in the wisdom of the steps so far taken." This work was not accomplished with- out much exertion on the part of Mr. E., in encountering the opposition of the jealous, the fears of the timid, in urging those un- accustomed to give, to a generous support of these young interests, and in assuming responsibilities that none other could take. But with these cares he enjoyed the free- dom of his new life, riding and driving through the lovely country, the cultivation of a garden, and the care of domestic ani- mals ; these wholesome recreations so mit- igated the pressure of brain-work, that, though life was never busier, yet healthful rest and appetite came back, and much of youthful vigor. But with Mrs. E., the change of home and life was but a change for more wearing cares; and she who needed so much of relaxation and recupe- ration was called upon to pass through some of the most trying experiences of her life. They came to their new home in early winter, riding the six miles from the near- est railroad station in a chill December rain, over a country robbed of its verdure, yet wearing no brilliant wintry charms, and without a prospect of home at the end of the journey. The parsonage was only in process of building, and for the winter, the family were divided among the people, as they could be best accommodated. Although never betraying morbid sensi- tiveness, Mrs. Everts possessed the keenest sensibilities, and the necessary division of her family, the enforced acceptance of a temporary home among strangers, however kindly proffered, was a severe trial. Even the minor changes of her lot would have proved intolerable burdens to most women. The breakfast hour in a farmer's household, occurring long before city people of moderate habits rise, necessi- tated very early rising for the mother, now having the sole charge of her little chil- dren ; and with the severe winter, the un- 12* 186 Christian WomanJiood. accustomed seclusion from out-door life — all told seriously upon the health and spirits which more than ever needed every thing propitious. But the secret hours of despondency and solitary tears were never known until afterward. She was the angel of hope to her family ; and the elder chil- dren well remember, in visiting their mother, how she cheered their home-sick- ness, repressed their murmurs, and made the future so bright with the prospect of home, that the present caught some glow from her hopeful spirit. In a short note to a friend in New York, and a longer epistle to Miss S., she gives her impressions of the place and people, mingled with expressions of regret for the friends left behind, and pleasant plans for the future. " Dear Mrs. P., — As Mr. Everts has left a page, I thought I must add a few lines to your- self. How have you all been since we left? "With us the winter has been unusually stormy, and we see by the papers that you have not es- caped. For the first part of the time we were here, we visited about some ; but as the weather became very cold, we gladly settled down at one of the deacons of the church, where we find our- M. K. Uverts. 187 selves very comfortable ; they are exceedingly kind, and do all in their power to make us hap- • py. I am much pleased with the people here, so far as I have become acquainted. There are many sterling female as well as male members of the church. The process of getting acquaint- ed is rather slow, on account of the distance at which the people live apart. The good sleigh- ing has given us a fine opportunity to get around, and we have improved it considerably. The change from city to country is a very great one ; but I resolved to be contented when I came, be- cause the path of duty seemed very plain, and thus far I have been so, although my heart often travels back to the dearly loved friends we have left behind. As you see those we call our friends, please remember us affectionately to them. Give the children's love to your little girls, and say that we shall expect to see them when we go to housekeeping. But my paper admonishes me to close. May the Lord bless you, dear friend, re- ward you for all your goodness to us, and give you a good hope through grace of eternal life. " Yours, most sincerely, "M. K. Everts." "March 17, 1851. "My Dear E.,- — After leaving my beloved parent and friends in Philadelphia, we bent our faces again towards New York, which had been so long to us a pleasant home, but which we were destined so soon to leave. Homeless,* but not i88 Christian Womanhood. friendless, we took up our abode, for a few days, at a good friend's house, who had arranged with us so to do before leaving, and from there made our visits, and arranged our affairs so as to leave at the close of November. You may depend that it was no small trial to give the parting hand to so many, who had, by long intercourse, so much endeared themselves to us. Through such scenes it is not often desirable to pass. Our nerves were sorely tried, and we found it an actual re- lief to be on board of a steamer, having no more adieus to pronounce, and no more call for tears, except as remembrance would bedew our eyes, as, with the vividness of reality, it would recall scenes and friends, which were fast fading from our vision. We received many valuable testi- monials of affection before leaving, which were prized, not more for their intrinsic merit, than for the kind feeling which induced the gifts. Our situation at present is widely different from the one we occupied in New York. Instead of the bustling and excited multitude, the din of busi- ness, the long lines of stores, and the innumera- ble vehicles that roll along the streets, we now look out upon a beautiful undulating country, with highly cultivated farms stretching away in every direction, the husbandman quietly giving directions about his flocks and herds, and seeing that all things are properly attended to in barn and field. Calmness and deliberation are written upon every brow, and as perfect freedom from all that is exciting as you can imagine. 'Tis true all have enough to do, and more than enough ; M. K. Uverts. 189 but you do not see the hurry that all are accus- tomed to in New York. " "We have been obliged to board this winter, and are still doing so, as the parsonage is not finished, and will not be, probably, for some weeks, and perhaps months, to come. Unfortu- nately, the trustees contracted with a man who has proved to be void of honor, and who has given them much trouble, besides delaying the finishing of the house. It is the more unpleasant, inas- much as there is no boarding-house here, and we are obliged to board in private families and those who do not desire to take boarders, but merely do so to accommodate us. Our garden, house, etc., will, I fear, not be fixed, in all respects, as we wish to have it, for some time yet. I had intended writing for you and Anna to come early and spend the summer with us ; but my plans are, thus far, frustrated. We are much pleased with the church here. The people are of a high order in morals, intelligence, benevolence, and refinement, for an agricultural community. "We have visited a large number of families this win- ter. Have had sleighing for many weeks, and I never rode so much in my life. I think you will enjoy visiting me here. Mr. E. has pur- chased a fine horse, and we expect, as soon as navigation opens, to have a comfortable carriage sent from New York .Before closing, I would ask, is it well with thee spiritually, dear E.? Leave the solution of all difficult doctrinal questions ; forget the things that are behind, which have caused you so much trouble, and bring 190 Christian Womanhood. yourself to the simple terms of the Gospel, and with an humble, penitent, and trustful heart cast yourself upon the grace and mercy of God, that are treasured up in Christ Jesus. May the Lord guide you and give you a good hope in him. " Your ever faithful " Friend." xn. Busy and Anxious Days. 11 The hours are flying ; Each one some treasure takes, Each one some blossom breaks ; The hours fly fast ; "With each some sorrow dies, With each some shadow flies. " |N the spring, the parsonage was finished, but before the workmen had left, in their longing for a ■ home, the family came together in the new house. It was sunset before the kind-hearted people left, who, with baskets of eggs, pans of milk, custard pies, huge M. X, Uverts. 191 loaves of bread and rolls of butter, had loaded the pantry shelves; and the family well remember the blissful sense of union, while the tearful, happy mother moved around, giving the home-look to every thing she touched, expressing such abso- lute content and gratitude in look and speech, as to impress the time upon the children, as one of the fairest of life-long memories. She was severely taxed, during this sum- mer, by the want of efficient help in her family, but entertained much company, and never gave up to the rest so necessary. Late in the summer, her youngest child was born, and now nature refused to rise ; from weakness, she sank into serious illness, until the doctors gave her up to die, when, as a last alternative, the family physician was summoned from New York. A few days of terrible suspense ensued, but the crisis past, and she was given back to life, as it seemed, only snatched from death by loving care. The long convalescence over, and she restored to almost her usual health, some signs of a most malignant disease 192 Christian Womanhood. made their appearance, and her alarmed friends advised that she be put under med- ical treatment at once. For this purpose she spent some time in New York, during the fall, and the danger was averted, as the physician maintained, only as a result of her temperate habit of life, and her equable disposition. Of her life here, we can give little ade- quate idea by detailing any specific work. We can only tell of her surroundings ; her part was the indirect agency, potent, but often unrecognized. During her husband's enlargement of church duties, she was at once his unerring counsellor and faithful friend. She entered into all his plans with enthusiasm, supplementing his labors by her social tact. Notwithstanding her unfavorable circumstances for making or perfecting acquaintance, her unaffected love- liness won the sincere esteem of the people, as was proved by many testimonials of affec- tion, from young and old. She made the parsonage attractive by her ever ready, welcome, and unusual powers of entertain- ment. Her piano was more of a novelty M. JS~. Uverls. 193 than in her city home, and with it she was always ready to entertain, either the chil- dren who came home from school with her own, the young ladies who dropped in for an afternoon call, or the deacon and his wife who stopped on the way to prayer- meeting. It is a family memory that their mother's music was never denied, even to the youngest, under any plea of fatigue or stress of occupation. A letter written to Chicago, in detailing the work among the churches, betrays Mrs. Everts' co-operative interest : "March 2, 1852. My Deae Brother, — "When you wrote us from Rochester, I meant to reply as soon as my head would permit, to vent my disappointed feel- ings, if no more ; but Mr. Everts has been pre- paring another volume for the press, which has taken all my time, which could have been spared for writing. My long sickness left my head so extremely weak as to make it unpleasant and painful for me to confine my attention long enough to write a letter. Since then, I have had two attacks during the winter, which, al- though of short continuance, increased the diffi- culty I have named, and it has been as much as I could do to assist Mr. E. as seemed necessary. 13 i 9 4 Christian Womanhood. I must give a little account of what Mr. Everts has been doing these months past. The Wheatland church meeting-house is situated in the country, and the church is scat- tered over a territory of twelve miles extent. North and south of us, about two and a half miles each way, are two villages, neither of which has had any more than an occasional ser- mon, one of them destitute of any place to hold a meeting, the other only a very inferior sort of a building. Ever since we came, Mr. E. has felt much for these places, and determined that something should be done. He first proposed to the church to have one of the Sabbath services at these villages, but as they did not wish to give up one of the meetings at the centre, they concluded to engage a student from Rochester to assist Mr. E. in supplying the destitution, so that they have had regular preaching every Sabbath. The interest increased so much at these points, that the want of meeting-houses began to be felt, and Mr. E. has been engaged in raising funds for both these places, which now amount in one, to some $2,500, and in the other to some $1,800 and a lot. In addition to these, we had members living at a village some six miles off, who, with other Baptists in the neigh- borhood, have been encouraged to form a new church, and they have now some $2,200 sub- scribed ; so that now proposals are out for three Baptist meeting-houses. This has involved much labor and some opposition. In one of these places, other denominations have become, M. £?. averts. 195 of late, very jealous, and endeavored to thwart us in every way ; had Mr. Everts not done the thing up so quickly, they might have circum- vented us. But we think it is too late for their opposition to amount to much. Notwithstand- ing all this extra labor, my dear husband's health is better than it has been for years. He has been instrumental in arousing the Baptists of the county to the work of home missions in our own field, and feels that his coming has been productive of some good. "Whether he will con- tinue here long, is uncertain ; some of his friends think he should not, if his health is entirely con- firmed. But this he leaves to an overruling Providence. We have been comfortable here, and it is a very desirable place, for the country." But while the prosperity of the new in- terests was matter of rejoicing with the pastor and some of his members, among others more conservative or timid, and others, perhaps, less spiritually minded, it only served to feed a growing jealousy of the young churches, whom they deemed rivals, and murmurs became louder and more frequent, as they prophesied the in- evitable loss of influence and position to the Wheatland church. Notwithstanding these signs of discontent, Mr. Everts bore with the unpleasantness of his situation for 196 Christian }Voman?iood. the sake of Clifton and Mnmford ; nor would he peril their future by leaving, until the way was clear before them. In the sum- mer of 1852, invited to visit another new church, with view to settlement, he re- fused, and Mrs. E., in a private letter, ex- plains their reasons for remaining : ■•Wheatland. July 27. 1852. u My Dear Brother. — Your letter, as well as Mr. Watkinson's, and that of the church, has been received. Mr. Everts was much gratified with the confidence and interest in him. breathed in them all. and delayed answering, in order to ascertain, if possible, the mind of the Great Head of the church, in reference to the matter. He first thought favorably of visiting Chicago, especially as he could, at the same time, see you and our cousins, whose presence, by the by, would be a great inducement to go there. But upon reflection, he felt that it would not be well to pay a visit unless there was pretty good reason to think he would go. Now. upon look- ing over his present field, he feels that he could not leave for. perhaps, months to come, and how many. Providence only can determine, without jeopardizing the cause in two neighboring vil- lages, where he has been laboring most assidu- ously to get meeting-houses built, and which are at present in process of erection. No one could take his place, as no one would know just how M. K. Uverts. 197 matters stood. This would prevent his chang- ing to go any where for the present, however desirable the place might be. He has written to the church, of which you have doubtless heard. This matter of changing church rela- tions, dear brother, is a serious thing — how im- portant the pillar of cloud should go before. Chicago must be a very thriving and enter- prising city — a most important point of in- fluence to the whole West. The churches should make an impression corresponding with their position, and thus, in its early history, throw salt into the fountain that will exert a purifying and saving influence through the whole course of its progress. Shall it ever be our privilege to inhabit the same spot of earth again ? Would it not seem like home days ? In fancy, I can imagine just how you are situated in your abode. Do you play on the melodeon ? When did you learn ? Your room must be quite attractive ; how I should love to peep in and see you. It delights me very much to know that you are so highly regarded by * * * * Oh, my dear brother ; to act in the world, and among worldly men, as Christians, to carry our religion with us in all our transactions, so as to compel the respect of the ungodly, is a great matter. Thus may you ever walk and be regarded." . . . A letter of later date upon the same subject, proves Mrs. E.'s identity with her husband's spirit and interests, and reiter- ates her deprecation of changes : 198 Christian Womanhood. " Wheatland, August 3, 1852. "My Dear Brother, — Your letter, and also one from Mr. V., have just been received this evening. I am extremely sorry that Mr. Everts' absence will render a reply impossible on his part. He has gone with a company from New York city, on a trip to the White Mountains, N. H., and will not, probably, be home until Thurs- day week. I think the church misunderstood a clause in his letter, where he speaks of object- ing to take any public step where there was not some anterior probability of consummating the relation of pastor and people. He did not mean where there was not a probability or a certainty of the church extending a call, but of his ac- cepting the invitation. He could not, upon such an invitation as has been extended to him from the Chicago church, consent to visit them, unless his mind was pretty well made up to accept the call, if given. He does not consider it fair dealing to act otherwise. As I told you in a letter which you probably have received before this, Mr. Everts has many things in train here, very important, which might be sac- rificed by his leaving too soon. We would great- ly enjoy being in the same church with you and our cousins, and, should d'lty point that way, would cheerfully go ; but it is so serious a mat- ter to ascertain what duty is in every case ; poor human nature is affected and biased by so many considerations, that I deprecate changes very much." M. K. averts. 199 But within the next two months, affairs which had been slowly working into shape, assumed proportion, and with a rapidity that could not have been expected. The people at Clifton effected church organiza- tion, from it gaining prestige that gave them strength and courage. The Mum- ford church received large subscriptions for their intended chapel, and the work was well commenced, while the large fruits of their revival gave them numerical pow- er. Now, Mr. E. felt that his work was done ; that some stranger, untrammeled by prejudice, could better go on with a future of assured prosperity, and as interpretation of the thought, came a call from the Walnut St. church in Louisville, Ky. Both the new churches sought by every inducement of affection and interest to de- tain Mr. E., but he could not doubt, by the singular conjunction of circumstances, that his call was a signal answer to prayer for direction ; and after the deliberation and counsel of a few weeks, even warmly attached friends acquiesced in his decision, that his Master had called him away for 200 CJirisUan Womanhood. other service. Near the time of leaving, Mrs. E. writes to New York, giving many family details of the removal : "January 12, 1853. "My Dear Brother P., — As we are all broken up and about to leave, the first of the coming week, for our Western home, Mr. Everts has desired me to address you a hasty line, fearing that you might possibly come, as you intimated, and find us gone. Until within a few weeks, we did not know but that we should remain here till the last of February ; but things connected with the Mumford church, for which we are now staying here, matured so fast that Mr. E. has con- cluded the sooner they have a Pastor the better. The church has been constituted, deacons chosen, trustees elected, and all matters finally under way. We had a very pleasant donation visit, a few weeks since, which cheered us ex- ceedingly, as all appeared so warm-hearted and cordial. The result, pecuniarily, was about one hundred and fifty dollars, one hundred of which was in money. In order to help the young interest along, Mr. E. has appropriated the hundred toward building a lecture-room. . . . We are leaving not quite so well off, as far as this world is concerned, as when we came here ; but my dear husband's recruited health, 1 con- sider a full equivalent for the balance. Let your prayers follow my husband in his new field of labor and responsibility. Give our love to M. JT. Uverls. 201 your dear wife and children. The Lord bless you abundantly in temporal and spiritual things, prays yours, " With sincere esteem, " M. K. Everts." An incident occurred in connection with their leave-taking, whose remembrance was particularly cherished by Mrs. E. For years, a noble christian man, belonging to the Episcopal Church, was in the habit of coming several miles to hold a Sunday School in the village of Mumford, bring- ing, in his own carriage, several of the teachers. When Mr. E. commenced preaching there, he encouraged it by his frequent presence, and heartily expressed approval. Even when a clergyman of his own church, with ill-advised zeal, sought to create partizan feeling, no mean secta- rianism could paralyze the honest religion of this brother, and he upheld the con- tinued service with all the power of his influential position. On the eve of their departure, after the farewell services with the Mumford Church, this Episcopal broth- er arose to formally make over the school 13* 202 C?irislia?i Womanhood. he had so long maintained, to the new- church, as their rightful charge ; and after expressing personal esteem and regret for the friend leaving them, handed him a purse of $100, that he had collected among his own friends, to make up for Mr. E.'s parting donation to the church. This fraternization, on the broad ground of christian sympathy, was eminently delight- ful to both husband and wife, and thrilled the religious community with a glimpse of something wider than creeds, stronger than church government, lovelier than the bond of a common membership — even that blest tie that binds our hearts in christian love. XIII. The Southern Home. ,l And in the place where the cloud abode, there the Children of Israel pitched their tents. " SHE change from Wheatland to Louisville was, in every way, marked. From the parsonage on the hill-slope, among thrifty, hard-working farmers, an atmosphere, so- cial and physical, closely resembling ~New England, to the broad, shaded streets of an old and wealthy place, where the roomy houses and large garden space told of the milder climate and more luxurious life in this semi-Southern city. The call to Louis- ville not only seemed imperative, but oc- curred in connection with other circum- stances that cut off any alternative. After Mr. E. had left, to make arrangements for removal to L., another call came which, 204 Christian Woman?wod. earlier, would have claimed favorable at- tention. While his best friends in Wheat- land finally agreed with his decision, yet, the morning they left, one of the deacons came two miles, before daylight, to ask a reconsideration of the matter, with such urgency that might have detained them, if pressed before. Mrs. E. expresses, in a letter to a brother, their conviction of a compelling and guiding Providence : " February 26, 1853. " My dear Brother In reference to our coming here you express your surprise. But all I can say is, that Providence drove us here, or else we can not read its workings. At the time the Chicago church wrote to Mr. Everts, so many things were pending and immature at "Wheatland, that it would have been disastrous to two new churches since organized had Mr. E. left. He was not allowed to choose — the ques- tion was not open. A few weeks later so changed matters, as you know we said they might do, that when the Louisville letter arrived, Providence seemed to indicate that Mr. E. had better agree to visit the church. Had he not consented to do so, two weeks later would have determined him to yield to the entreaties of the infant churches of Mumford and Clifton to remain with them. Having visited this place, he was M. JK. Uverts. 205 astonished at the size, destitution, and. impor- tance of the field. Notwithstanding that his predilections were all North (and another letter, which he found on his return, from B., would have probably been favorably noticed had it come sooner), and his aversion to slavery, as I said, his conscience was so pressed as to leave him happy in no decision but to come here. The church has received him with great affection and confidence, and their hopes rally ; they believe that now the set time has come for God to favor Zion here, at least our particular part of the great sacramental host. The history of the Baptist cause here has been most humiliating and pain- ful. From having the first and most commanding position, they have misimproved their privileges, and now they have only two white churches, and only one pastor. The pillars of the other de- nominations are from Baptists. They have still many commanding and influential families, whose hearts are, I trust, set aright now, who intend to do what they can to atone for the past. But the story is too long to tell all over now ; when we meet, it may afford an interesting topic of conversation." .... The extreme cordiality and demonstra- tive kindness of waiting friends very soon made them at home in their new field. The church affairs were in such condition as to enlist their sympathy and labors to the full. The body was composed of two small 206 Christian Womauliood '. churches, who, upon union, had com- menced a fine building in a prominent location, and, under the pastorate of the Rev. Thomas Smith, a young man of re- markable piety and talent, they looked forward to a prosperous future. But he died after a short term of service, and for nearly two years they were without a pas- tor. During this time the finances became somewhat embarrassed, and the work paused, so that they were still worshiping in the lecture-room when Mr. E. came. The members at once rallied round him, while the fact of a settled pastorate brought in a congregation that continued to in- crease. The completion of their building was undertaken, with additions of size and elegance to the original plan. When fin- ished, it was pronounced by architects and men of taste to be- the most chastely-beau- tiful edifice in the South-west. Very large subscriptions were made at the dedication, and within the following two weeks, the whole indebtedness, amounting to twenty thousand dollars, was subscribed. They M. J5:. Uverts. 207 were not only thus successful in temporal plans, but all the meetings of the church took a higher tone of spirituality, while frequent additions were made to the mem- bership. But such prosperity did not be- get selfish ease. Before their house was finished, while encumbered with their own liabilities, a church building was offered for sale in a part of the city remote from Baptist influence, and highly advantageous. A deacon of Walnut Street, large-hearted and sagacious, bought this as a mission station, and the nucleus of a future church. In due time, some Mty members went as a colony. The new interest became an or- ganized body, and in steady growth went on, now, for many years, recognized as a strong church. In two extreme limits of the city, at different times, missions were established, one of which afterward became the Portland Church. At the time Mr. Oncken came to America he visited Louis- ville, and his presence and words of cheer gave such an inspiration to the German Baptists, that, aided by the Walnut-street 208 Christian Womanhood. Church, they organized a church, bought a lot, eventually put up a good brick house and parsonage — the chapel being dedicated before Mr. E. left Louisville. XIV. Feasant Ye " 0, precious hours ! 0, golden prime, And affluence of love and time 1" yj±j°tMM0^G such church cares, the r iSa II first years in Louisville were happily passed. It was peculiar- ' ly delightful to Mrs. E. to become an active participant in these labors, after her comparative seclusion ; and as her health improved in the milder climate, with more assistance in the family, she took up the maternal and female prayer- meetings, a Bible class for young ladies, and the tract- work, appointments which are impracticable in a country church. While M. JT. Hverts. 209 engaged in tract distribution, Mrs. E. be- came involved in a history wbich affords us an interesting remembrance of her life. It was during a time of revival, and while they were holding special meetings, that, in company with another lady of the church, she called, when a gentleman met them who, though accepting the proffered tract, in reply to the inquiries concerning church relationship, courteously, but with the in- tention of precluding further conversation, informed his visitors that he was an actor of many years standing, at present engaged in the Louisville theatre. The ladies, how- ever, gave him an earnest invitation to at- tend the meetings then in progress, and with a few words of friendliness, inquired of the other occupants of the house. He told them of a young friend, also an actor, whom the ladies included in their invita- tion. The young, men both came, and yet again, until in answer to the prayers they asked of the church, these two, once ap- parently far removed from religious influ- ence, were baptized into the communion of the church. While many showed kindly 14 210 Christian W r o?nan7iood . interest, they both felt a peculiar claim on Mrs. Everts' friendship ; and it was in con- sultation with her and Mr. E. that they both determined to turn their attention to the ministry. The elder, in a few months, entered the public ministry, while the youth commenced a course of preparation for his work. During his permanent resi- dence, and frequent visits to the city, the lat- ter maintained an intimate acquaintance with Mrs. E., who cheered and advised him, taking a mother's part to his inexperience. In the wonderful working of Providence, this young man was called, within the next five years, from a prosperous field, to fill the pulpit Mr. E. left, for his Chicago home, and during his successful pastorate, he has never forgotten the friend who, in wisdom and tenderness, counseled his youth, as he testifies in the following lines : " In regard to her character, it hardly becomes me to speak, as my judgment was far from ma- ture" when I was most intimate with her ; yet I can speak of the impressions made upon me, for it was upon the heart, and the heart treasures M. I£. averts. 211 up what the mind can not appreciate until after years have elapsed, when it collects and moulds them into breathing forms. So I can gather from the impressions of my heart, a conception of Sister Everts, which if not altogether faithful to the original, is, at least, a correct copy of the photograph which the light of her words and actions has rendered unfading in my soul. That which attracted my admiration most, was the wonderful balance and symmetry of her char- acter. She was certainly intellectual, capable of enjoying works of art, earnest and pious, sus- ceptible to the softest emotions, yet possessed of uncommon energy and marked decision of character. But she never made me feel that she was distinctively marked by any one of these features. It was not intellect, emotion or will, which distinguished her from others : it was completeness. In her presence, you were led to realize that there is such a thing as develop- ment which comprehends the whole mind and heart ; that to be intellectual, man need not be irreligious ; and being religious, does not neces- sitate the many eccentricities which too many commit to the disgrace of their profession. . . .... I never heard her speak lightly or slan- derously of any. Never did I know her to be at fault in her decisions, or rash in her counsels. At home, she was the wife, the mother, keeping her own house well ; in the church, she was the example nnto believers, and a helpmate to her husband ; and at home and abroad, in church and out of church, with the rich and the poor, under 212 Christian Womanhood. all circumstances, she was always the same — the Christian. I can not express myself more clearly or more fully ; for no other word denotes more than this one — Christian. This she was, and the most perfect I have ever met. I feel it a sacred duty to her memory, publicly, to ac- knowledge my indebtedness to her. If I have advanced in the divine life, if I have been useful to the church, if I have been able to overcome spiritual enemies, I confess, freely and candidly, that, under God, I owe much of my success to her. She advised me, when I needed counsel ; she encouraged me amid my early perplexities and despondency ; and she prayed for me when only the strength of God could support me. She was to me a mother in Christ, and I shall always reverence her memory as a son. Her in- fluence has exerted an almost angelic power over me, and I hope for good to others, as well as to myself. Shall I not, therefore, arise and call her blessed?" This was but one among many instances of her wonderful influence over young men. Her cheerful, cordial manner, her loving, tender heart insensibly won the confidence ; and it was often a matter of playful comment that mother's charms had lost none of their potency with her increas- ing age and matronly dignities. The most dissimilar characters unbent to her, and M. JT. Inverts. 213 made her the safe confidant of business plans or literary aspirations ; and as often in affairs of the heart she was called upon to decide, implored to intercede, or at least to hear and sympathize. It is hardly necessary to say, her delicacy never abused the trust. Whispers, or a second confi- dence, carried many a tale, until, perhaps, the happy removal of secrecy filled out blank conjecture. Three ministers in Ken- tucky ; another, gone from earthly service to heavenly reward ; one, an orphaned wanderer ; another, in enforced exile from home ; — these were foremost in claiming her as foster-mother, and but speak the ex- perience of many who can tell of a signal kindness, or of a brief, bright acquaintance, that they treasure as a sacred memory. "While the change of climate benefited Mrs. Everts' health, she also enjoyed more recreation. A number of the members lived out of town, and after the wearisome Sabbath duties, it was, for a long time, customary to spend " Blue Monday " among these country friends, where pastor and wife gained weekly refreshment. Mrs. 214 Christian Womanhood. E. accompanied her husband occasionally to fulfill appointments in different parts of the State, once going as far as New Orleans witn him, as he was called to a Southern Convention. Her native sprightliness as- serted itself on these excursions, and with- out abandoning her dignity, she enjoyed the novelties and incidents of travel with almost youthful zest. She considered it a duty to make a periodical visit to her father, during his lifetime ; there were also visits to St. Louis and Chicago ; and the family always felt repaid for her absence by the joyful return, when, in bettered health, her abounding love and gracious presence seemed to revitalize the home at- mosphere. Thus sped the happy years. Mrs. Everts' eldest brother, a man of love- ly character, died, after a long and painful sickness. Her affectionate heart keenly felt the loss of one endeared by long years of the tenderest intimacy; but she that lived in constant communion with another world, could not sorrow " as those without hope." Concerning this sad event she writes thus : M. JT. Uverls. 215* " November 24, 1853. " My dear Brother,— ! have had a great de- sire to write you, particularly since our beloved brother's death, but have been compelled to deny myself the pleasure. Lately, I have had press- ing duties enough for two women. Thank you for your kindness in writing ; it is extremely gratifying to me. Last week, after waiting some time to hear from Philadelphia, T received a letter, stating that J.'s symptoms were worse, which prepared me to believe that his course- was nearly run. I was not, however, prepared for the intelligence, which reached me the next day, that he was numbered with the dead. His disease seems to have terminated in geueral con- sumption, and his decline must have been rapid. Papa wrote only two or three lines, saying that his spirit had fled, and that he died triumphantly. I am awaiting anxiously further particulars, such as whether he could speak at all, and whether he was conscious until the last, etc. I felt last week as if I must go to him, and was only pre- vented by my little children, whom I could not take, and dared not leave. It is no small part of my own trial to be separated from our dear father, sister, and brother. No doubt you feel the same. In affliction we have always been together ; could it be so now, the gratification would be great. I often think of our dear de- parted as I saw him for the last time, with emaciated frame, and disease rapidly spreading, wending his way to his naternal home. His last 216 Christian Womanhood. look was full of affection and interest, an expres- sion as if he had said, ' I shall never behold jou more.' Sometimes I think of him as lying in the cold grave ; but the feeling that his sainted spirit is enjoying the realization of its hopes, makes me rejoice to think of him as freed from sorrow and pain, and as making one of the great company that no man can number, around the throne of our great Immanuel. I foel that in his death we have every alleviation ; his piety was well tested, and he left the most cheering evidence of being a devoted child of God ; and then in his unblemished character I feel that we have real cause for gratitude. The lip of scorn or slander can never wound his fair fame. From my knowledge of human nature, I believe him to have been as pure a character as lives. Mr F. has noticed his death in the ' Western Recor der,' with some remarks ; and last Sabbath, Mr Everts, in recommending the importance and de sirableness of a christian character, spoke of J, as one illustrating the just and upright christian man. But his goodness is known to us, written in lively and imperishable memorials on our hearts. We learn that Uncle C. and L. are very serious. I hope it may appear that our dear brother's example has done much to con- vince them of the power of religion. Let us pray that his death may be sanctified to all our dear family ; that C. may lay it to heart, and seek the pardon of his sins ; that our dear father may be induced to make a christian profession. .... May the Lord bless you, my dear brother, M* J£. &verls. 1x7 and make you a great blessing ; prepare you in life for death, in time, for eternity. " Your affectionate sister, "Margaret." Further glimpses of their life we may glean from letters : " January 12, 1857. " My Dear Brother C, — My first letter writ- ten this New Year, is to you. I am ashamed that yours has been so long unanswered, but upon coming home from Chicago, after a month's absence, I found my sewing had so accumulated that I have been very busy getting the children ready for winter You said in your letter Papa would soon write ; if he has done so, I have never received the letter. I judged from the fact of his going to Jersey, that he had quite recovered from his injury. What a mer- ciful deliverance. Nothing but the hand of God saved his life. Surely this is another reason why we should serve Him more devotedly. Dear brother, let us begin this new year with the resolution of Joshua, " As for me, I will serve the Lord." It may be, that, in the counsels of heaven, this year may close our mortal history. 0, let us be ready, by a hearty repentance and true faith, to meet our Lord at his coming. We all continue in good health and greatly blessed. The goodness of our heavenly Father to us, fills me with amazement. Surely he has dealt kind- 14* 21 8 Christian Womanhood. \j with us. You are not given to fault-finding, but how many are ; is it not a sin? To me it ]ooks very black when we deserve so little at our Father's hands. New Year's day passed pleasantly by with us. The ladies inquired if it would be agreeable for us to receive calls from the church and congregation, and allow them to provide the entertainment. They did so, and we had a very fine time; a great abundance of every thing was sent in." . . . " Louisville, January, 1858. " My Dear Brother, — It has been my wish to write for some time, but we have been wholly occupied, having been holding meetings nearly every night for several weeks. God is visiting us in mercy, and is granting us, we believe, a genuine revival of religion. The church, with others, had been suffering declension, and the members covenanted to meet together for prayer and conference ; this we did for a week, after which Mr. E. commenced preaching every night, a short sermon, and then the members would take up the time in confession, exhorta- tion, and prayer. We have had two days of fasting and prayer. God has been propitious, and we are now rejoicing in his presence. We met all through the holidays, and the feeling among the unconverted is, we trust, deepening and spreading. Twelve have been baptized, and six are to be, to-night. Rejoice with us, and give God the glory. How are matters pro- gressing with you? Is your church also enjoy- M. JK. averts. 219 ing like blessings ? Now is the time for Christ- ians to follow the Providence of God, that has been teaching men of the world so serious a lesson concerning the instability of all human affairs. Write and let us know all about you. How we are separated from those we love, are we not ? " Absence makes the heart grow fonder;" is it not so? Mother C. is spending the winter with us ; she has lost her husband, and we wrote for her to come at. once. She ex- pects to go east in the spring. Also Mrs. M. is with us. I believe you saw her when you were here. She could not get suited in a board- ing place and requested us to take her ; it seemed to be duty, and we did so. Thus you see our family changes But I must stop, although I should love to chat longer, as several letters have to be sent off this morning. Hoping soon to hear from you, and wishing you a happy New Year, and many of them, " I am, your affectionate sister, " M. K. Everts." XV. Time and Change. 11 We see which way the stream of time doth run, And are enforced from our most quiet sphere By the rough torrent of occasion." |X April of 1858, she was called to Philadelphia by the sudden illness of her father. The sum- mons came for haste, but it was then too late on Saturday to commence her journey, without traveling on the Sabbath, and that was not even mentioned as possi- ble. A late Sunday night train was pro- posed by a friend ; but, true to her princi pies, she would not infringe upon sacred time ; and, after a day of painful but prayer- ful anxiety, she left early on Monday. She writes immediately upon reaching there, to an absent brother : M. K. Everts. 221 "April 15, 1858. " My Dear Brother, — I arrived here last night at midnight, and reached Papa's this morn- ing. The doctor has just left, and says our dear father is dangerously sick. He can not tell how the disease may terminate, but does not give much hope — dares not encourage. "We asked him if we had better telegraph or write for you to come on. He thought we had better do so. I am very glad I have come, and much fear the worst. He is very weak, has no appetite, sleeps little. His disease is of the lungs and heart. The lung, the doctor thinks is better, but the heart no better. Now, dear brother, I have told you just how things are, so as to clear ourselves of reproach, in case he shonld pass away without your seeing him. We would have telegraphed, but the doctor does not seem to anticipate sud- den death May God, in his mercy, prepare us for whatever of sorrow he may be preparing for us. My heart sinks within me at the thought of seeing one we have so long re- vered and loved, close his eyes upon us and all things earthly. " Your loving sister. " Margaret. " The letters which follow, tell the story of her father's death : 222 Christian H r o??ianhood . u Philadelphia, May 1, 1858. " My Dear Brother, — I hope by this time, that you have reached home in safety. How kindly does our Heavenly Father care for us amid dangers, seen and unseen. Let us always have a lively sense of his goodness, and in every thing give thanks His fever has raged very high the last eighteen hours, until it ap- pears to be consuming him. The next letter will probably announce hi3 death, for I see not how he can survive much longer. Pray that God may, in mercy, hand him gently down to the grave. He looked upon us this morning, and said, as nearly as I could distinguish the words, " God bless you all ; I feel that my sins are all forgiven." I much regret to lose one word, but his poor, parched lips forbid distinct utterance. Let us, dear brother, moderate our pursuit of every thing earthly, and as we resign our loved parent to the care of our covenant-keeping God, prepare for the change which may soon come — how soon none but He can tell. We will write in a day or two. When you left, the nature of the bereavement which awaits us flashed across my mind with fresh force. That you had taken your last meal under the hospitable roof of our dear father, had left the paternal mansion, per- haps never more to return, that we, as a family, had met in it for the last time, all these thoughts filled me with sadness. "But it is the Lord; let him do as seemeth him good." " Your loving sister, " M. K. Everts." M. JT. Uverts. 223 " Philadelphia, May 7, 1858. " My Dear Brother, — You have, before this, received intelligence of your beloved father's death. The same afternoon that you left, he became worse, and continued to fail. That night was one of great suffering, and I was glad you were spared the trial of witnessing it. He was sensible, we think, until the last hour, which made it more trying to see him suffer. But he sleeps in Jesus, and is blest. He is done with pain. May the Lord cause us to profit by this affliction, is my prayer. He died on Sunday af- ternoon at six o'clock. We followed his remains to their last resting place, yesterday. . . . We arrived at Allentown by 10 o'clock, where were a large number of relatives assembled at church. Mr. Perkins preached a short discourse from the words, " Go quickly, tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead." The coffin was then opened, and the relatives and friends permitted to look at the loved face for the last time. We proceeded to the burial ground, (which is a beautiful spot), to the lot cousin A. had purchased in the most desirable part of the ground. There was a grave dug wide enough to hold two abreast, and our dear mother's re- mains (which we had removed on Monday, and sent in a new coffin in advance of the funeral), lay beside our beloved father. Now all is done as our dear father requested. We spared nothing that would testify our respect and affec- tion." 224 C?irisHan }} r oma?i7iood. In the summer of 1858, Mr. Everts received a call from the ^North Church, of Chicago, which he thought it best to re- fuse. Mrs. E. gives their reasons in full in a letter to her brother, and from this time, with her own pen, gives the concluding chapter of their Louisville life : " Summer of 1858. M Very dear Brother, — I have been trying to get an opportunity to write for several days, but have been obliged to postpone it. Mr. E. has been, for the two past Mondays, expecting to leave for Chicago, but has finally given it up for the present. Things are in such a state here that Mr. E. feels that he would be recreant to duty to quit the field. We have been going through sore trials, brought on by an individual of whom I believe I have spoken to you before, and who we think a very bad man. His desire and plans, for two or three years, have been to get Mr. E. out of the State ; for this he has been resorting to all sorts of manoeuvres and misrepresentations, endeavoring, by innumerable falsehoods, to injure Mr. E.'s reputation in the State. He was jealous of his influence, so he has acknowledged, and has been determined to remove him. Our church is perfectly united, with the exception of some five or six brethren, and last year has been one of great spiritual prosperity among us. The Baptist cause was M. K. Uverts. 225 never as strong here as in the past five or six years, and Satan himself seems to want to create division. The church, through the whole, have shown extraordinary devotion to their pastor and to right principles, and-Mr. E. feels that to leave them, without strong indications of Providence as to his duty in this respect, would be wrong. Some feel that if he were to go, the church would be divided, and great trouble would ensue. Under these circumstances he has written to the brethren in Chicago, that, at present, he does not see that he can possibly leave this field with- out doing damage to himself and the cause. You know how I wrote previously to you — did Providence so lead, how cheerfully I, for one, would change my residence ; but, upon looking and praying over the matter, we have both come to the same conclusion : that it would be wrong. Mr. E. fully intended to go last Mon- day, and had his arrangements made, but was hindered. We hope the brethren who so kindly expressed their confidence and interest in him will appreciate the reasons of his declining to visit them. To do so, with the conviction that he ought not to leave here, would be treating them unkindly." In the spring of 1859, the call was re- newed. Concerning this, Mrs. Everts writes : 15 226 C/irMian Womanhood "Louisville, May 15, 1859. " My dear Brother, — Yours of last week, and Mr. B. 1 s official letter of to-day, have been received. My spirit is oppressed with the res- ponsibility of deciding in this matter. I confess to you, privately, that my heart says go, but I dare not trust its decision for fear it may be selfish. It would be so pleasant for us all to be together, as you say ; but perhaps our heavenly Father does not see best to gratify us in this particular. No place in the Union presents such attractions to me, now that our dear father has gone, as where my brothers live. " Some weeks ago, when the * * * church were so desirous of having Mr. E., I felt no drawing that way, although it is one of the most important churches in the West. While at R. last week, or week before, he was visited by a committee from the Baptist Church of A., Georgia, inquiring if he would take Dr. B.'s place, as their pastor, at a salary of * * * ; but I have no desire to go farther South, although, perhaps, the trials a Northern man experiences in a slave State are more in these States on the line than the more Southern. Pray for us, that the Great Head of the Church may lead us in that way which will be for his glory and the good of his cause. Would not living be more expensive in Chicago than here ? The matter of house-rent certainly would, would it not? You know Mr. E. now receives * * * and his life insurance ; and there has lately been a move- ment made among some to increase his salary. M. J£. JtJverts. 221 Mr. E.'s habits of giving are such that he needs a good salary to carry them out. This is, of course for your ear." "Louisville, June 2, 1859. " My deae Brother, — I sit down to write a hasty line. Some days ago, Mr. E. wrote a pri- vate letter to Mr. B., in reference to the pro- posed change of his pastoral relations. If Mr. B. has gone East before getting it, will you open it and speak of its contents to some of your ju- dicious brethren. Mr. E. spoke at some length in reference to the salary. This is never a first consideration with him, but, of course, one which he feels he must have some regard to. The posi- tion as pastor of the church we now serve, and your church also, is one attended with large ex- penses. Our family is so public, that, to fulfil the apostolic injunction — to be given to hospitality — requires a very different outlay from one of the same size in the more private walks of life. I see not how we could keep up our life insurance at all ; and then to sacrifice the beautiful horse given by our dear friends here because we could not afford to keep him, although the exercise is needed for Mr. E.'s health, is very mortifying. It would seem like going down, instead of going up. You know how we live ; we do not wish to live any more extravagantly, all we wish is a comfortable home. But enough of this. I think Mr. E.'s mind is made up to go. I am satisfied that a Northern man labors at fearful odds at the South — prejudice, deep and ready to be roused 228 Christian Womanhood. on all occasions, makes a stay here uncomfort- able. If we go to Chicago, Mr. E. feels that a union so solemnly formed should not be rudely broken, and hence proposes to remain some weeks, more or less, as may seem advisable. What think you ? When would it be best to come. I feel most happy at the prospect of being near my dear family once again ; it is something I have hardly dared to hope for. We shall never, probably, find a church who will love Mr. E. any better than this, but there are some spirits who make a Northern pastor's place very uncomfortable.' "Louisville, June 10, 1859. " My dear Brother, — Your last letter has just come to hand, and I hasten to send a short reply. On Sabbath last, at the Communion, Mr. Everts presented his resignation to the church, to take effect not later than the last of July. On Tuesday night, some forty of our young business men (members of the church) met, and unanimously resolved that all hindrances to Mr. Everts staying should be removed, even if it resulted in division, or excluding the few men who have given the church and Mr. Everts so much trouble. The church meeting, to con- sider Mr. E.'s resignation, comes off to-night — a very exciting one is anticipated. Great oppo- sition is felt to our leaving ; but such is the prejudice a Northern man of any notoriety has to encounter, that we both feel that life is too short to waste in antagonisms. If Mr. E. was a M. K. JEJverls. 229 young man, he would not leave ; but as lie has made a reputation, he does not choose longer to embarrass his usefulness. We have dear friends, a devoted church — except a few — and the trial will be great to part with them I almost fear to have as much enjoyment in this world as a residence near you will afford. God bless and guide us in this and every other matter, prays " Your fond sister, " Margaret." " Louisville, June 13, 1859. *' My dear Brother, — You and Mr. B. are, probably, both awaiting a letter from my dear husband, and I hoped he would be able to write you ere this. Last Sabbath, as I wrote you, he resigned the charge of the church, and last Fri- day was appointed for the church meeting. At that meeting resolutions were offered and unani- mously adopted, which I will copy, that you may appreciate the state of things : " \ Whereas, our pastor has tendered his resig- nation of the pastorate of this church, therefore, " ' Resolved, That we have an abiding confi- dence in the purity and integrity of the personal and ministerial character of our pastor ; and that the trials' through which we have passed have doubly endeared him to us, and strengthened the ties which before existed. " ' Resolved, That, in view of his faithful labors, and the success that has attended his ministry, we earnestly request him to reconsider his determin- 230 CJiristian Woma?i?iood '. ation, and, if it accords with his views of duty to withdraw his resignation.' " We had notified our landlord that we would probab y leave the last of July, and felt that we were almost on the wing ; but until after the special church meeting this week, shall be unable to say positively. We feel like Israel, when Moses said to them : < Stand still, and see the salvation of God.' We are unable to move a step until we study the will of the Lord as it may be made known to us by the meeting of Wednesday. Dear brother, if you ever prayed in earnest, pray the earnest prayer for us now. Mr E. desires me to say that his convictions as to leaving remain the same as when he wrote ■ but the relation between pastor and people is so sacred, that it can not be too readily severed. -He also feels that if another such union is formed a ain " ° Ut the necessit 7 of breaking it up " Louisville, June 18, 1859. " Dear Brother,— I write a few lines to let you know how matters stand here. Mr Everts informed the church last night that he saw no reason for reconsidering his resignation, and that henceforth he should move among them as a member. They have not yet acted upon it, but his determination is fixed, so you may if God permit, expect us. We feel very sad aV leaving so many dear friends, who have shown us so much kindness. I hope God will reward them tor all their acts of love. We can not say de- M. J£. Uverts. 231 oidedly when you may expect us, but we will probably leave some time in July. Mr. Everts wrote Mr. B. some days ago ; will write him again soon. May our coming be a blessing, and cause of everlasting thanksgiving that we were permitted to labor with your church. Accept much love from Mr. Everts and the children. " Your fond sister, " Margaret." The spring following their departure from Louisville, Mr. and Mrs. E., in going to Cincinnati to attend the meeting of the Missionary Union, answered the many ur- gent invitations from L. by a short visit. The familiar letters describing this visit, afford us a glimpse of the warm attach- ments formed here — love which would hold them, as the inscription upon their elegant gift declared, " in memoria eterna." u Louisville, May 18, 1860. " My dear Children, Brothers and Sister, — You see this is indeed a family letter, which I have seized the first interval of leisure to write. I arrived at this place, after a safe and pleasant journey, about one o'clock yesterday. .... Our friends were not expecting me until four o'clock; but Mrs. TVs carriage was all ready to take her and Mr. P. to meet me, when 232 Christian Womanhood. she heard of my arrival. Such overwhelming attention I certainly never received. There was a regular debate as to who should entertain us. After long consultation, it was decided that we should go to Mr. T.'s and stay two nights, and spend the last two at Mr. P.'s. Before I could arrange my dress, friends began to call, and the news of my arrival spread so rapidly that there was a steady stream of callers until after ten o'clock. To-night we are invited to tea at Mr. P.'s, to-morrow night at Mr. D.'s ; Sunday night Mrs. S. insists on our taking tea with her. Up to ten o'clock last night I had twenty-eight calls, and thirteen already this morning I hope you will all get along nicely while we are away, will all keep well, and that when we meet again we shall have cause to thank our heavenly Fa- ther for his sparing and protecting mercy. M Your loving mother and sister, " Margaret." " Cincinnati, May 22, 1860. "Dear E., — It was my intention to write before leaving Louisville, but it was quite out of my power, owing to the company that was about us from early in the morning until late bed-time. We have not heard from home, but shall inquire at the office to-day. I am not tak- ing anxious thought about you all, but have com- mitted you to an ever-watchful heavenly Father. "We trust you are all well and happy. ... I shall have to wait until I get home to give you a full description of our visit. It has been one M. £". Uverts. 2 33 of rare enjoyment, pleasure, amounting to pain. We were followed up with attentions from the time we set our feet in L., until we left. ' Fri- day evening, after meeting, we called at Mr. D.'s, as we often used to do, and found their large parlor full of friends to meet us. About time to leave, we bade them good evening, and went to Mr. T.'s, where we found their parlors filling up, but still we did not suspect any thing. After a while, we had a delightful serenade, and at ten o'clock, an elegant supper, of which some hun- dred partook. The next day we went to Mr. P.'s to stay the rest of the time, and received calls until a late tea, which we were to take at Mr. D.'o. We expected to have a quiet evening, but, as before, the friends came nocking in. About ten o'clock, Mr. T. drew my hand in his arm, and led me to one end of the parlor, when a napkin was removed, and to our utter astonish- ment, a silver service, consisting of pitcher, goblets, and salver, were presented to us through Mr. D. After a brief response by your father, and prayer, we separated. I never felt so overwhelmed by demonstrations of affection in my life. Sunday, your father preached to large congregations, and in the intervals our dear friends kept about us. Some followed us to Mrs. S.'s to tea, and after service, to Mr. P.'s. 1 was very much urged to remain, and almost concluded to do so, but finally accompanied your father, arriving at this place about noon But I close in haste, with untold love for all. "Your devoted 15* " Mother." XVI. The Last Home. 1 Yet nightly pitch my wandering tont. A day's march nearer home." jHICAGO, in 1856, was, as some timid conservatives feared, a bub- ble at the highest inflation, as 1 sagacious men every where said, at a giddy height of prosperity. And while men rioted in the abundant evidences of material growth, practical Christianity partook of the exhilarating atmosphere, and in a noble spirit of progress and emu- lation, the churches enlarged their borders, erected elegant and spacious buildings, suited to the probable future of this won- derful young city, took possession of new ground for mission chapels, and originated new schemes of benevolence. M. K. averts. 235 Our own denomination somewhat sadly stood in the back-ground. The mother church, burdened by heavy and growing debt, stood as a cripple in this great race of improvement, and the weaker bodies suffered in consequence, from apathy and disaffection. The First Church suffered in the accumulation of individual wealth, and the lack of commensurate enter- prise and extension. Laxity of practice crept in, and then succeeded a perilous time of crimination and discipline. The world was in the ascendant, and the church felt the consequence of recreancy to her trust. A christian lady from another city, stop- ping in C. for a while, speaks thus of that period of the church's history : "I came here quite a stranger, and looked around with some curiosity, to determine the state of this religious community. I saw many things that surprised and pained me ; a conformity to the world; in many, conces- sions to custom, and in some, alliance with fashionable frivolity, that seemed to lower the standard of the cross, and lose 236 Christian Womanhood. from sight those eminently christian traits of self-denial, humility, and zeal. Especial- ly among my own sex, I felt the need of a renewed consecration." The inevitable crisis in Chicago affairs came at length, and brought down busi- ness to a safer basis, though at the cost of much disaster. And now church mat- ters looked more gloomy. The debt which in prosperous times had weighed upon them, now seemed to threaten extinction of all vitality. Many of the members had suffered great losses ; there was a strong feeling that help must come soon. A wide- spread revival in 1858, that brought in valuable accessions to the membership, did much to restore confidence and a measure of prosperity. The church, for the second time, gave a call to Dr. Everts, then in Louisville. The call was accepted in August of 1850, and Mrs. Everts now came upon a field of labor broad enough to fully occupy that large heart and brain, the willing hands and tireless feet. A church depressed and burdened, denominational needs urgent, M. £". Uverls. 2 37 an infant University struggling for exis- tence, and the numberless wants and woes of this city of great promise, all appealed strongly to her ardent consecration. We select from her correspondence, letters written to Louisville, in the first few months after leaving that place, comprising recollections of* the old home, and impres- sions of the new : August 15, 1859 — Remembrances of L. ; impressions of new home immediately after or- rival in G. : 11 Deae Sister C, — Truly, as you say, our hearts turn to correspondence as the only resort, in the absence of personal communication. The stereotyped question is asked my husband or bro- thers each day : ' Have you any letters ?' showing how much pleasure is received from this source. I should have answered yours sooner, but, as you may suppose, getting to housekeeping, un- packing, arranging, etc., has been very fatiguing, and has taken much time. In consequence of over-fatigue and change of climate, I have several times been quite unwell ; but have now got quite settled, all ready to entertain you and jour dear husband and other of the precious friends we have left in Louisville. Mr. Everts' health has suffered considerably before coming here, and so 2 3 8 Christian Womanhood. much was his energy impaired, that had you heard him preach for a Sabbath or two after coming, you would not have thought it the same person, unless your eyes made it evident. He is much better in health, and I hope, with the aid of the lake trip he proposes to take, will be quite well again. " You wish to know, doubtless, what are our impressions of Chicago. It is truly all that others say of it, a wonderful city — in location, enterprise, achievement, and wickedness. Pro- gress is stamped on every thing. I hope we are not deceived in our impression that this enter- prise extends itself in Jhe church. There are many active Christians here, and surely they are needed, for wickedness comes in like a flood. The Sabbath question has been agitated much, lately, in consequence of a line of horse cars having been started. Last night Mr. Everts preached on the Sabbath as a religious day, and Sabbath or two ago, on its benefits to the race. I hope the efforts of the pastors here will be blessed to arousing the public conscience to the importance of redeeming the day from secular purposes. But time and paper admonish me to close this hasty scrawl. Be assured how much pleasure it gives us to hear from you." September 30, 1859 — Further tribute of remembrances and experiences in new home : M. J?. Uverls. 2 39 " Dear Sister C, — How do you do, after so long a time ? Luxuriating in fruit, if we may judge from the fine specimens sent us ; the box laden with grapes and peaches came to hand, and was as acceptable as if filled with gold, for it told of precious remembrance, and who does not wish to be remembered ? " ' Not golden apples from the trees of bright Hesperides Could to our sight more precious be Than these choice peaches are from thee; For 'tis the love we bear our friends That to each gift its value lends.' For a time we did not know who had thus favored us, the name being so modestly traced upon the cover. In looking over the premiums given at ' the late fair in L., we were much gratified to see your name and Brother P.'s among the favored ones ; could wishes bring prosperity, it would always be yours, for from our hearts we would have you favorites of Providence. And yet how ignorant we are of what is best for those we love ; what we intend for blessing may be far otherwise, and what we regard as affliction, in the hand of the Lord becomes blessing. Is it not, then, safe and happy to trust our heavenly Father ? Shall we not say with Job, though he slay me, yet will I trust in him ? I am quite anxious to hear again from yourselves and Bro- ther P.'s family. I know you have much to occupy you, in which I can heartily sympathize, having a standing family of twelve. But the stray moments may come when you can ' turn 240 C?wistian Womanhood, aside and rest awhile,' and then pen a few lines to jour loving friend." October 17th, 1859. — Acknowledgment of testimonials, and health of family : " Dear Sister P., — Just to see the traces of jour pen is most grateful, even if the letter is short. I was quite surprised and much obliged for the plate jou sent me. Please present to mj dear sisters, the donors, my appreciation of their affectionate regard — first, in having mj face engraved, and then in presenting the plate. It is onlj another of a series of most delicate atten- tions paid to me and mine, which have made an indelible impression upon our hearts. Brother S. leaves us in the morning; and although I have been confined to mj bed all daj, I rise this eve- ning, determined to send jou a line, if possible. Mr. Everts has been quite unwell for several weeks, and reallj sick for ten dajs. He came here verj much worn, and should have taken some weeks to recruit ; but instead of that he found his post one of so great responsibility, that he has exerted himself bejond his strength. Af- ter raising the church debt, which is considered so wonderful an event in these times, the church had a sort of jubilee meeting, entertained bj speeches, singing, refreshments, etc., and after- wards he was sick for a daj or two, then went out Too soon, was taken with some pain in his side, which resulted in slight congestion of the right lung, from which he is onlj now recover- M. K. JEJverts. 241 ing — still couglis considerably. I wish he could rest for a few months, but I suppose that he can not do. " Tell Brother P. his last letter has been re- ceived, and read with eagerness. Tell him not to be discouraged on account of the trials of the way. His Captain always insures a victory." January 17th, 1860. — Remembrance of friends and church in Louisville, with notice of progress in C. 11 Dear Sister P., — We had just returned from a visit, when my brother hailed me, and said he had a letter for me. I was not long in discovering that it was from our long-tried and precious friend, V. C. P. My heart warms at the mention of your name ; yes, and it will always do so. Friendship is not to be lightly appreciated ; and when cemented by trial, as ours has been, it should be lasting as life itself. God grant that it may flourish in greenness and beau- ty, until the pulsations of our hearts shall cease in death, and then be revived to be consummated in eternity. You speak of a company of our dear friends met at Brother B.'s the other night. Oh, if body could travel like spirit, how gladly would we have joined you ! What can we say for all the kind words and affectionate remem- brance you say they expressed ! Some feelings can n'ot be spoken ; this is one of them. God knows how ardently we return every such ex- 16 242 Christian Wo7nci7iJiood \ pression. Tell them all so, when you have an opportunity. '• We see that Brother A. comes to you under very inauspicious circumstances. Mr. E. and myself have felt much confidence in him, and hope he may be made a blessing to the church. " We rejoice to know that you stand by the church, and mourn for the afflictions of Joseph. May the Lord point out a right way before his people, and may they be enabled to walk in it. We feel sad to hear how the congregations have run down. Do Brother TVs family attend? Have they moved into town? Have many dropped their pews ? " Thank you very much for your cordial invi- tation to your house and to L. Mr. E. expects to attend the Union at Cincinnati, and he may, and probably will, go to L. He is also specially invited, in a most fraternal letter from Brother Foster Ray, to attend the dedication of their new meetine-house in Lebanon. He acknow- ledges Mr. E/s services in aiding them in the accomplishment of that work, and says they desire him to preach at its opening, in July. He will probably go. We are very glad to learn that Brother Medeulet has been sustained. May God reward you all for your care of the little German flock. "Has any thing been heard especially about Brother T.'s health ? God grant him many years yet to His cause on earth. When any of you write, fail not to give our best love to them. A flying visit from you ! ! Why may it not be ? My K. Uverts. 243 If not sooner, why not return with Mr. E., in May ? Now make your calculations, take Time by the forelock, and let nothing prevent ; heart and home will open to receive you. I have not made definite calculations about going with Mr. E., although the thing is possible, and would afford me a melancholy pleasure. It is not too late to wish your household, one and all, a pros- perous, happy and useful New Year. Tell the children that their little faces and forms are im- printed on our memories, and from time to time we shall hope to hear of their welfare. We prize their love very much, and shall cherish it. Tell them their little friends, M.,"W. andN., are all well, and love to talk of L. They are not by any means weaned from their dear friends there. Mr. E. is much occupied, has many ap- pointments out of town, to lecture. Thursday next he goes to a town on the railroad, about one hundred and twenty miles, to return the next day. Last week he went in another direction. There is much religious enterprise here. The Baptists have just revived a Union among them- selves, to look after mission work in the city and neighborhoods around C, and to look after the interests of the denomination generally." . . . We are accustomed to accept generalities concerning the adaptations of Providence ; but sometimes a particular case enforces our passive creed with startling distinctness. To those who understood Mrs. E.'s charac- 244 C/iris?ia?i Womanhood. ter, and knew the discipline that had ma- tured her, it seemed that she had been fitted for this particular place, and brought here in due time. Let us pause and note the woman who comes to the work. XVII. ;-M.istress, Wife, Mother. 11 For she hath lived with heart and soul alive To all that makes life beautiful and fair." IRS. EVERTS' health was never better than when she came to Chicago, and during the rest of her life she was unusually exempt from debility or illness. Her appearance did not indicate her age; for simple diet, regular habits, and cheerful temper, pre- served for her much of the freshness of earlier life. Her step wa3 elastic, her brow un wrinkled; her native buoyancy stood her in good stead as mental support ; her M. K. averts. 245 powers were fully matured ; she was trained by a long course of years to the fullest ap- preciation of a position which she had first- assumed with singular fitness; her active mind keenly alive to the demands of her age, she yet appreciated the proper relative position of the church and the world. As the mistress of a household, domestic cares, though lightly borne, were never neglected. Every part of the house was subject to her supervision : the provision for a large family, and the constant enter- tainment of company, were accomplished with marvelous ease. Nor did she omit the work of her hands. Labor, the necessity of so many, the ungracious burden of some, the duty of all, in her took such a form of graceful dignity, that one could not choose but admire. Since her death, a friendly neighbor speaks of watching from her win- dow the daily walk to market, noting her elastic tread, her serene face, the faultlessly neat toilet, " seeming ready," as she phrased it, " to step into a courtly drawing-room," and added, that she wished no other pic- 246 ChrisHcm jybman/iood. ture than the characteristic one her mem- ory had preserved. Her remarkable skill with her needle was constantly called in requisition, not only by her family, but used even in the short visits she sometimes made, where her ingenuity could double one's resources, and make even seeming worthlessness available to taste. These multiform cares were all assumed with such dignified ease, such ap- parent facility, that no one felt the burden or saw the strain ; the family accepted her as the type of woman ; the servants, with- out the premium of lightened labors and higher pay, chose to remain long, grudged no service to her mild demands, yielding in some cases an enthusiastic devotion to her character. In the higher aspects of family order, her faithfulness was preeminent. Highest of domestic privileges she ranked family worship. Her ardent spirit and loving care guarded it as faithfully from all dese° cration as ever vestal a sacred flame, and with her spirit of lofty devotion, and ever M. JT. averts. 247 ready and appropriate song, kept it above the dead level of a form. Few women so entirely identify them- selves with their husband's life and pursuits as Mrs. Everts did. She watched his health, not only for his comfort, but as it fitted him for work. She supplemented his pastoral labor in making calls and receiving appli- cations. Possessed of a remarkably facile pen, for the last fifteen years she carried on most of her husband's correspondence, which, with the certainty of an every-day mail of from one to five letters, was, of it- self, no inconsiderable labor ; but in addi- tion to this, she copied thousands of pages for publication. Every sermon preached was prayerfully listened to, and afterward discussed with reference to its suitability, its faithfulness, its probable success in win- ning some, in warning others, in up-build- ing all. None of the little cords of sym- pathy and confidence that bind pastor and people were by her unnoticed or uncared for, but held with a careful hand, and strengthened by every act. To her children Mrs. Everts was at once 248 Christian Womanhood. mother and companion. She never exerted her powers of entertainment more than in her own home circle, and hours were very precious that she spent quietly there ; long rainy days that she was busied with her sewing, or rare evenings when neither public appointment nor stranger's call broke the privacy. Conversation never lagged, was neither dragged over the trivi- alities of gossip, nor tainted with unkindly venom, but, instructive and sprightly, chal- lenged thought and comment. She encour- aged and planned innocent amusements for her children, but believed those safest that could be enjoyed at home, or within the chosen circle of friendship. She incul- cated especially a personal responsibility in maintaining untarnished christian profes- sion in the choice of pleasures, deprecating the attempts of society to reconcile church and world, elements a Higher "Wisdom has declared essentially discordant, and advi- sing a deference to the general voice of the church, the utterance of centuries of expe- rience. She felt the liveliest interest in their M. K, averts. 249 mental improvement, never too busy to aid the daily task, patiently going through the intricate puzzles of " geography, grammar and arithmetic," until her clear statement or suggestive question dispelled the cloud, and smiles chased tears. One feature of her domestic government deserves particular notice, as embodying a rare wisdom. The children were never reproved or criticised before others, even in the smallest particular of custom or cour- tesy. "We have never seen her gentleness so fired into indignation as by some liberty of criticism claimed in the freedom of family intercourse. If there was need of amendment, opportunity was sought for a private interview, and as the children grew older, the necessary reproof was often er given by note. She maintained that this delicacy, while it guarded the children's self-respect, made the recurrence of the fault less probable, and invested with ten- derness parental authority. I^ever was mother more wise and careful in cultivating a sense of religious respon- sibility. She was rewarded by the conver- 16* 250 Christian Woma?i?wod. sion of all her children before they reached the age of twelve years. Then, in the for- mation of a consistent christian character, she was untiring in her efforts. The duties of private devotion, the obligation of church appointments, a winning example, and ac- tive efforts to influence others^ she con- stantly inculcated. One winter, when her son, then but a little boy, could not finish his work in time to join the family at breakfast, his mother always came with a little devotional book, and read to him while he ate, that in the pressure of study and other duties, he should not be hurried through the short days without any subject for religious thought. This little circum- stance is one of many kindred that attested the mother's devotion. Her reverential love for the Sabbath she carefully sought to cultivate in the family. For long years, until in turn outside duties called her away, it was her custom to gather the children in the afternoon for an exer- cise combining careful reading of the Bible, conversation, most frequently prayer, glean- ings from the religious papers, or some M. K. IJverts. 251 suitable book, and before weariness could make any impression, a hymn would open the way for many more ; and thus to the children, even while . young, this mother's wise and loving ministry made the Sabbath a delight, and also holy to the JZverts. 339 which to celebrate our crowning joy, our most profound sorrow: where the one shall be consoled, the other hallowed. Fittingly robed in stainless white, emblematical of the life clothed in Christ's righteousness she had so long borne on earth, and her hands resting upon the unstrung lyre — for the silver cord was broken — and this one, so peculiarly a daughter of music, had ceased upon earth her song. So she was borne to the Church of her love, whose solid walls had risen assisted doubtless by her prayers and efforts. The day, for its rare loveliness, answered the poet's description — u Sweet day ! so still, so calm, so bright, Bridal of earth and sky. ' ' And with its suggestions of the beautiful ended here, only to begin above, seemed to act nature's part as consoler, and M Glide into our darker musings with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness ere one is aware." The services were conducted by clergy- men of her own and other denominations : 340 Christian Womanhood. Revs. Osgood and Clarke, Drs. Smith and Burroughs; Dr. Humphrey, of the Presbyte- rian Church, and Dr. Eddy, of the Meth- odist. The thronged Church swayed to the speaker's words, and by tears attested their grief and loss. Yet it was not altogether a sad place. Many felt that they stood as the disciples after the Saviour's ascension, gazing up into Heaven. The remarks of Dr. Eddy being more personal and tributary, we transcribe in part: Coming to address you in the presence of the remains of this devoted Christian woman, I bring you some of the lessons the occasion has brought me. 1 . How beautiful a thing is a consecrated Christian Life. — I mean that real consecration which re- cognizes the divine claim, and surrenders all to Christ: life, friends, goods, powers, all! Sur- renders these to His service. Not the dreamy, indefinable consecration of the mystic, but the real consecration to Christian doing, so that duty becomes privilege ! I only repeat, in view of the luster of her life, how beautiful ! She did comprehend what is meant by " Ye are not your own ; ye were bought with a price/' and knew M. J£. Uverls. 341 it was divinely logical to add, " Wherefore glorify God in your body and spirit, which are His?" 2. In her were harmonized the claims of domestic and public duties. — Mary sitting at the Saviour's feet, and Martha serving with conscientious pains- taking in the round of hospitable duty and home care, are types of character which demand to be blended in the perfect christian matron. Home has its cares — husband, children, guests — these require attention. Home is her empire, and will be happy or miserable as she directs, and most unfaithful is she who fails to appreciate or per- form its duties. But there are outside duties. Woman is appealed to incessantly to conduct the various organizations for benevolent effort. Refuges, Homes, Asylums, Hospitals, plead for her presence and supervision. Many a christian matron has stood tearfully between these two and cried " Lord help me." Mrs. Everts' organizing mind, clear-sightedness,, commanding will and intelligent conscientious- ness enabled her to harmonize these demands. At home she was the angel of the household. Careful, economical, thrifty and industrious, she ruled well and wisely in the empire of home. There it might well have been said of her, " She openeth her mouth in wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the way of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up and call her blessed ; her husband also, and he praiseth her." Yet who was more efficient in outside duties ? In those of the Church, the Sabbath school, the 342 Christian Womantiood. prayer circles, the relief of the poor, in benevo- lent organizations, in efforts to rescue erring girls and women ? Ye who toiled in these vine- yards know well how clear was her comprehen- sion, how practical her plans, how tireless her zeal, how potent her pen, how abundant her labors. The painful problem of how to adjust home and exterior duties found its solution in her life. 3. Her life was a specimen of blended denomina- tional integrity and Catholic activity and sympathy . — I shall speak more freely because I am of an- other denomination. God has suffered, in His Providence, the existence of denominations, branches, in his one Holy Church. Each repre- sents some distinctive idea, and each has its mission. While these continue, each Christian will find his strength in conscientious devotion at his own, altar. It is vain, it is foolish, to ig- nore denominational preference. Our own stands to us as symbol of what is Christly and Churchly, and we can not look elsewhere with the same deep, tender outgoing of love. But there are common grounds of defence, common lines of attack, great schemes of re- ligious philanthropy, summoning united heart, hand, mind, prayer and faith. Mrs. Everts loved her own Church. To her, its doctrinal standards syraboled the faith deliv- ered to the saints, and its ordinances, apostolic usage. Hence she sought its prosperity, and sought to build it up in strength. She was right. Yet she found time amid her many duties, and a M. JT. Uverls. 343 warm place in her heart for many charities and enterprises not denominational. And here again she was right. 4. I find in this completed life a commentary upon the words: u Behold, we count them happy that endure." — There is the endurance of resistance. The pillar stands against the beating of the storm ; the anchor holds against the tugging of the ship, as if it knew all it had to do was to hold ; that hundreds of lives hung upon the event of its " enduring " the plunging strain upon it. This is manifested in the christian life by resist- ance of evil ; by endurance of trial ; by bearing up under great sorrow. It is being " rooted and grounded ;" it is being " steadfast and mmoved ;" it is being " established in grace." There is the endurance of activity — to continue faithful in duty ; to bear the march and brow the assault. How these met in her life. She maintained her integrity ; she met what of trials came ; met it submissively, and accepted gently the cup she was called to drink. She continued in the work of the Lord. One by one her lines of activity were spun out, and it seemed as if her death came when, more than at any other time, for years, they were about completed. She accepted duty when devolved upon her. " I would have no broken column to mark the resting place of the ripened Christian." — Remarks by Br. Eddy, at the burial service of the wife of the Rev. Dr. Everts, of Chicago. 344 Chinstian Woman7iood. The smile of thy heart went not with thy death T Too changeless and pure to fade with thy breath ; But glowing forever in fullness of love Thou walkest in beauty with seraphs above ; And the sweep of thy finger is felt o'er the lyre "Whose notes join the strains of the Heavenly choir. Thine infinite gain in the Presence divine, — Whose glory all glories of earth doth outshine, Shall be as a balm, from onr Father's loved hand, To cheer the torn heart in this dark, desert laud, — Shall brighten the pathway of tears and of strife, Till our spirits join thine in the Heavenly life. No stranger wert thou 'mid the glorified throng, For angels and seraphs did welcome thee home; Home to thy Saviour, where, tearless and pure, Thy spirit in rapture shali dwell evermore ; There, waiting our coming from earth's dreary night, Thy welcome shall greet us at the Gateway of Light* It is with a strange awe that we handle work fallen from hands now folded in death. One unconsciously ponders the " last times " of life. Did any fleeting thought suggest it ? Was there a shadowy glimpse of the "never more?" Who can tell the mysteries of the "Silent Land?" After her death, was found a detached sheet bearing the record of her last birth- day, the only orivate reflections of which M. 1£. HJverts. 345 we find any trace since her marriage. The years were too full of toil and care for even this self-indulgence, and she only finds time for these last words, in the comparative quiet of her family's absence : " Chicago, August 30, 1866. — I have reached my forty-ninth birth-day ! How is life speeding its course ! Another } r ear, and half a century will have rolled over my head ! Had these all b'een years carefully and faithfully consecrated to God, how differently would I feel in the retro- spect. Truly, for nearly thirty-five years has my name been enrolled in the Christian Church ; but how cold have been my affections ; how fitful my service. I can give my testimony to the faithfulness of my Heavenly Father, for his goodness has followed me and mine. We have gone through a variety of experiences, but he has never allowed his faithfulness to fail. My husband and my children all live, and are bless- ings for which I cannot be sufficiently thankful. All are in the Church of Christ, and, I trust, members of the Church invisible. All most dear and precious — blessings of which I feel my- self unworthy. Then we are largely blessed with dear, kind, christian friends, with whom we take sweet counsel. God has placed us in a highly responsible position, which I humbly pray we may be increasingly qualified to fill. " In view of all these things I feel deeply humbled, and have endeavored to consecrate my- 22* 346 Christian Womanhood \ self and all I have anew to my loving Father and precious Saviour. God's love impresses me with new force ; I seem to have glimpses of late which have filled me with ecstacy of joy. He seems so near, and it is so sweet to trust him. Jesus is so precious and his cause so dear. I long for his reign over my heart, and over all hearts. Yes, dearest Lord, I love thee ; use me entirely for thy glory ; make me a better wife, mother, sister, friend ; a better member of thy Church. Thy goodness oppresses me ; sometimes makes me tremble ; but I will rejoice in thy gifts, dear Father. Draw me and mine, by them, nearer to thee. "M. K. Everts." In opening her private papers, we find that she held all the lines of her business life until the last. In one parcel, a long series of accounts with brothers, extending over years, and embracing the most per- plexing minutiae; in another, a full detail of building accounts, in the interest of several members of the family, distinct, although together. Still another holds the records of the building of the South Mis- sion Chapel. Much of the business detail devolving upon her husband, she kept the full sub-lists, and an account of all outlays M. £". Averts. 347 and contracts. Here was preserved the by-laws, and some notice of the Home of the Aged and Indigent Females. And here too the business papers connected with her last and perhaps dearest work : every- thing pertaining to the Refuge — the sub- scription papers, building estimates, com- plete lists of business firms in the city who supplied building materials of any kind, etc., the appeals to the Common Council, etc. ; also, some of the books of the Church Benevolent Fund. Among these a large parcel comprised "A Wife's Record of her Husband's Life and Labors," kept since June, 1849, and dedicated to her children. All these in the clear hand and unblotted page peculiar to her papers. " Then be it ours, although we weep to miss Thy voice of music from a world like this ; Through all life's change of joy and sorrow, deep Within our hearts thy memory to keep ; Like thee, to brighten all our path below, By pouring blessings round us as we go ; Kindle new hopes in breasts that long have been Darkened by sorrow and oppressed by sin ; And bid Heaven's light with meekest lustre shine, Till our own souls become as white as thine, And the whole earth is filled with radiance divine 1" XXII. Funeral Wreath. 1 Dead ! art thou dead ? Alas ! dear friend, I hear The solemn tidings with reluctant ear ; And my stunned sense no ready credence gives To the sad tale, ' Thy friend no longer lives 1' For Oh ! if love can hold the fleeting breath, If virtue can turn back the shafts of death, If purest thoughts that never knew a stain, If heavenly graces, cherished not in vain, If these, and more than these, have power tosavo, Oh ! friend beloved, thou art not in the grave." SjHE compass of the present vol- ume necessitates the selection of I a few from the many spontaneous expressions of sympathy and grief that were offered the family — mem- ory's wreath, culled of her virtues and graces. The following is from one who, a fre- quent exile from home, through business M. IC. JEJverls* 349 claims, yet was welcomed to the intimacy of Mrs. Evert's home-circle : " Kochester, N. Y., December 5, 1866. — Dear Miss E., — The first news of your dear mother's death was given me by a friend on an eastern train, while I was watching in the depot for one going west. It brought to me the keenest sense of desolation and personal bereavement. Had I not been able by that merciful arrange- ment by which the stress of grief is mitigated by tears, to weep, the announcement would have unmanned me. Aside from my own mother, none stood higher in my veneration and affection than yours. She was to me a mother indeed, when, far from home, I needed all the aids which christian counsel and the quiet inspiration of her tranquil, courageous trust in God could give me. In the sportive freedom of our intercourse, I called myself her eldest son, and now that she is gone, it seems as if the tears that blind my eyes are warm with the tenderness of a relationship closer than that which actually bound me to. her. Your dear mother was a woman, in my estima- tion, of an extraordinary nature. There was a combination of character such as made her life round, beautiful, and complete. There was nothing in excess. She was very gentle, yet unusually efficient and executive. She had a multitude of duties, social, public, pastoral, ben- evolent, yet I never saw her in haste, perplexed or overcome. There was such a sanctified equi- poise of mind and heart, that she seemed never 35° Christian Womanhood. to labor even when most ardently occupied, and never to be overcome by her emotions, even when these were most stirred and tried. Her nature always seemed to me a mingling of sum- mer and autumn, full of blossom as- of fruit, very cheerful, yet of natural delicacy and beauty, ready for every office of charity, for every call of christian duty, for every engagement of social life* for every claim of love 'made by her hus- band, her children, or any one of her numerous friends. As a missionary, she was the most un- obtrusive, yet most effective, of any into whose acquaintance christian fellowship ever introduced me." . . . " Yours, very sincerely, " James D. Reid." " Kalamazoo, October 15, 1866. — My Dear Brother E., — Having been privileged to meet your now sainted wife, so often this past sum- mer, in the midst of the home through which her many virtues diffused their pure and softened splendors, I am the better prepared to know the greatness of your loss, and if your grief is com- mensurate with that loss, the good God pity you. My pen pauses in any attempt to offer you com- fort. My soul sits down in silence with you, and mingles its tears with yours. Heaven has gained a brighter spirit than often visits it from this earth. Oh ! how joyous, after a few years more of toil for her and your Saviour, muat be your reunion. Accept the prayers and sympa- thy of your brother in Christ. "J. M. Gregory." W. £:. Uverts. 351 "Louisville, October 25, 1866. — Dear E., — It is unnecessary for me to recapitulate your mother's radiant virtues. I have never known a woman so fully clothed in those graces which not only adorn the Christian, but so potently influence all who come within the circle of their refining and ennobling influence. Her praise is not only in all the churches, but the community at large remember her unremitted zeal, her lofty, unselfish devotion to a broad benevolence, un- limited by creed or section. I can»not think of one upon whom all parties could so readily bestow unqualified and unbounded laudations. She. was so unpretentious that her loveliness appeared always an immediate reflex of the Shekinah that dwelt ever in the sacred precincts of her soul, and thus she rendered unto God all the glory. ... " As ever affectionately, " Mart Hegan." "New York, October 19, 1866. — Dear Brother E., — It was with feeling of heartfelt sorrow that we yesterday read the news of the death of your beloved wife. All our family were most sincerely and devotedly attached to her. There are very few, if any, that they all held in so tender regard. We can only offer you our most sincere sympathy in this hour of your severest trials and bereavement. May the Lord sustain you. . . . The whole pathway of her life is strewed with flowers ; not a thorn do I believe she has left. She has filled up the 3J 2 Christian Womanfiood. measure of her days with usefulness. I think I have never known any person so perfectly con- secrated to Christ. " Yours very truly, " William Phelps." '•Louisville, October 12, 1866. — My Dear Mrs. T., — Our hearts were deeply saddened this morning by the dispatch announcing the death of that great and good woman, our much- loved Mrs. ©. We had heard of her serious illness, but the last report was, ' she is a little better.' She has been almost constantly on my mind since I first heard of her danger. And this morning, while dressing for breakfast, I felt, if God should mercifully spare her life, friends and the church ought to appoint a day of thanks- giving. Imagine the shock to my feelings when I saw, almost the first thing on opening the paper, the unexpected notice of her death. My heart sank within me, and I could but exclaim, alas, alas, there is nothing left to be done for her now. We can only wrap around ourselves the mantle of faith, and in mournful submission, say, ' Thy will be done.' Thus, I fully believe, she would have us do. But what a loss. Oh, what a loss to her friends, to the church, to her family, and to the world. ... I know how hard it is, in the hour of such bitter agony, to look through the deep darkness, and see behind the cloud a smiling face. It will be hard even for him, who has so often tried to lift the veil for others. 'Tis even hard for me who am so remotely idea- M. J?. Uverls. m 353 tified with her ; for as I write, the cloud and mystery seem to thicken ; and I am almost lost in the darkness and gloom which surround this mysterious Providence." .... "V. C. Petee." Among many anxiously seeking the sick and wounded after the war, the Rev. Mr. C, in his quest, came to Chicago, and there made Mrs. E.'s acquaintance, under circumstances which the following letter commemorates : " December 26, 1866. — . . .It was a sultry evening in July when I called at her house, a perfect stranger, and related, in reply to her inquiries, the story of my son's long sickness in the hospital at Columbus, Ky., and my own re- peated attacks of illness while on my way to visit him. She at once extended to me a most cordial invitation to make her house my home as long as I remained in the city, an invitation which I instinctively felt was not mere civility, but the spontaneous outburst of christian kind- ness. Respectfully declining to accept such generous hospitality, I returned to my lodgings at the hotel, where I was again prostrated by a severe attack of illness, which, I have no doubt, would have terminated my life had I not in the early morning called a carriage and driven to your house. Shall I ever forget the constant and kind attentions of your mother, through that 23 354 Chrislia?i 7Koma?ihood. week of sickness ? So sympathetic, tender, thoughtful, unselfish, and self-sacrificing. She moved in and out of my sick chamber like an angel of mercy, and as I have said many times since then, I think I owe my life to her. It is strange that the reading of the few words that told her death to the world, should have opened the flood-gates of memory, brimming my eyes with tears. The death of my own mother could scarcely have affected me so deeply." . . . From Dr. Backus : " October 12, 1866. — My Dear Cousin, — My heart is with you in your great affliction. Were I with you I could only pray : 11 ' Lord, our help in ages past, Our hope for days to come, Our helper while the storm shall last, And our eternal home.' 14 1 did hope she would be saved to you, to the family, to the church, and to the poor, but alas ! she has gone. Not dead but slecpeth. Not a doubt but she whom we loved, is, and ever will be, with the Lord I know not when my hopes have more unexpectedly perished, for I left you, hoping dear M. would live, and I know not that my heart was ever so sad. ' Friend after friend departs,' and in the death of dear M., who has not lost a friend?" " J. S. Backus." M. IC. JEverls. 3^5 The following letter accompanied the wreath that lay at her feet : " My Dear Friend and Pastor, — I can not express my feelings ; you know how I loved her. You can appreciate what I suffer. Lay this wreath at her feet for me, the last token of love I can offer. " Most affectionately yours, " B. C." From Gen. McC. : " "Will you please accept and appropriate for the Erring Woman's Refuge, the enclosed. It is scarcely my gift. All is due to her. It is only one of the least of the flowers growing from love and charity buried in her grave It may not be ungrateful to you to know that one of the silent was not the least touched by that sad loss, sad to you and to us, but not to her." A German pastor, whom she had often entertained and encouraged in his work in Louisville, and after his removal to Kan- sas, forwarded a box of clothing, and other useful articles for his family, upon the news of her death, writes, in broken Eng- lish, "I was struck with silence; I could not speak for sorrow ;" and the letter was full of affectionate memories. 356 Christian Womanhood, First gush of sorrow at the loss of friend and fellow-laborer : "October 11. — Mrs. E. died this day at noon. What a loss to her family, to our insti- tutions, to this community ; to me, personally, what a loss 1 How can I bear it ? My sensibili- ties are bleeding at every pore. I have been associated with this good woman three and a half years, on the Board of Managers of the Erring Woman's Refuge. In my opinion she was among the greatest of living women. One of the truest, the best, the strongest and firmest, the most gentle. As presiding officer of our Board, she never said to us, ' Go, ladies, 1 but 'Come.' ' All we want is faith and correspond- ing works and we shall succeed.' The last out- ward duty was to solicit brick for our Hospital building. Among the last efforts of her pen, was a most thrilling appeal to the common coun- cil to aid in this charity. No one could be in her presence without feeling strengthened and stimulated to do with their might what their hands and mind found to do. Her dignified bearing, her pure and faultless life, her active mind, ever awake to the wants and woes of fallen humanity, preeminently qualified her for the station she filled. Although her presence can make my labors cheerful no more, I will emulate her noble example ; I will work on and on, with a higher and holier purpose." M. JK. Averts. 357 From the Chicago Republican : *****<< jy[ rg Everts has been a leader in almost all the philanthropic movements of the city, and labored with the utmost unself- ishness in a variety of charitable undertak- ings, and under numerous and diversified re- sponsibilities. * * * * She was a lady of remarkable executive ability, possessed of un- bounded energy in the prosecution of the chari- table missions she undertook ; of admirable tact and discretion', and universally welcomed and beloved in the circles filled by her sphere of beneficence. One of the last public acts of her life was to solicit contributions of brick from the various manufacturers for the new Home of the Friendless building in this city. * * * * V Mrs. Everts was endowed with much intel- lectual power, and her intuitive delicacy and perceptions of propriety caused her, with all he* ability and superiority in council, to avoid all obtrusion, and to shrink from all ostentation or parade. The consciousness of the good she was doing, was her best reward for the labors in which she was constantly employed, and in which she was governed by the Scripture rule, ' "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.' Her illness, indeed, was superin- duced by over-exertion in works of piety and philanthropy. " She was well known and much depended upon in all undertakings for the amelioration of suffering and distress, bv the Christian and phi- 3^8 Christian Womanhood. lanthropic portion of the community, who, with thousands elsewhere who knew and esteemed her, will deeply and sincerely mourn her depar- ture from her field of piety and usefulness on earth." From the Louisville Courier : 11 To speak too highly of her merit is not pos- sible. But it was especially in her own home that her christian graces were displayed. As a wife, whose happiest duty was to cheer her hard- working husband ; as a mother, whose earnest and ever-present effort was to bring up her children in the fear of her Master ; as a friend, whose wise counsel and encouragement were never withheld from child, friend, or servant ; she was conspicuous above any woman with whom it has ever been our fortune to meet. "We •never saw a frown upon her face ; we never heard a sharp word from her lips Her death is a public calamity, for of such women come the bone and sinew of the Republic." Resolutions adopted by theChurch of which she was a member : First Baptist Church, Chicago. November, 1866 .} "Rev. "W. W. Everts, D.D. — Dear Broth- er,— On the 26th of October, A.D. 1866, a committee theretofore appointed for that purpose, presented to the churches the follow- M. K. Urerts. 359 mg preamble and resolutions, in reference to the death of your beloved wife, namely : '■' Whereas, God, in his Providence, has re- moved from the scenes and activities of earth, the beloved companion of our pastor, our Sister, Mrs. Margaret K. Everts, who departed this life on the eleventh inst., this church, desirous of placing upon their records some humble tes- timonial of the worth and excellence of the deceased, do therefore resolve : " 1st. That though to our limited understand- ings, this Providence seems dark and inexplica- ble, we nevertheless bow to the solemn mandate of him, who doeth all things well, and will not, therefore, murmur or repine, though our heads be bowed in grief, and our hearts smitten with unutterable sorrow, but in the exercise of the same christian faith that so eminently character- ized our sister, we will press on to more perfectly know the Lord. *' 2d. That in the death of our sister, our pastor has been bereaved of a most estimable and beloved companion, who, by her uniformly amiable deportment, her intellectual culture, sound judgment, wise discrimination, refined taste, genial companionship, and exalted piety, has lightened his burdens, solaced his hours of weariness, counseled him in his great work, con- tributing in no small measure to his large success as a minister of the Gospel of Christ. " 3rd. The children of our deceased sister have lost their most faithful counselor and friend, a mother, the memory of whose beautiful exam- 360 Christian Womanhood. pie time can not efface, the impressions of whose christian walk and conversation upon their un- folding characters, years can not despoil. They sorrow, yet not as those without hope, for though the light that shone brightest in that happy dwelling, has faded from earthly view, it glows even now with new radiance in the realms of the blest ; though the voice that so sweetly cheered the home circle, and attended the harmonies of worship around the domestic altar, has escaped mortal ears, it even now mingles with cherubim and seraphim in the praises of Heaven. Hav- ing, before she passed away, seen all whom God had given her, themselves given to the Saviour, after the separation of a few brief years, they will be reunited in mansions above, of which their earthly home was but a faint symbol. " 4th. That the church has lost one of its purest and noblest examples of christian fidelity. "Whether in the prayer-meeting, or in the public assembly, in the social gatherings of the church, or in the active walks of charity and good works, our sister was ever present to counsel, encour- age and execute, of remarkable endowments of mind, of fervent faith and untiring zeal in her Master's service, her presence was every where a blessing, her influence refining and exalting to all who associated with her. Her familiar face we shall see no more in the prayer-circle, her voice no more hear in our hymns of devotion, but her example and her counsels will survive. ' Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord ; yea, M. JT. Uveris. 361 saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them.' " 5th. That to our afflicted pastor and his sorrowing children, we tender our profoundest sympathy, and hereby commend him and them to the Spirit of divine compassion and grace. " 6th. That these resolutions be spread upon the records of the church, and that the clerk furnish a copy of the same to our pastor. " Cyeus Bentley, » Church Clerk." Also like resolutions of respect and sor- row were passed by the Louisville Church, the trustees of the University of Chicago, the Ladies' Baptist Educational Society, managers of Erring "Women's Eefuge, and the Sabbath school of the First Church. The following is the tribute of one who long enjoyed the fellowship of the church and the friendship of Mrs. E., returning after an ab- sence, to find her no more : I came, — "but she was gone ! The voice that oft, in cheerfulness and love, Had spoken words of holy faith and trust, Was hushed and silent now ! Her ready smile, Chasing the shadows from this burdened heart, Beguiled and cheered no more ! All seemed changed. Her rapt attention in the house of God No longer told that her whole soul drank in The melting words of truth and grace which fell Upon her ear. Her place was vacant there. 23* 3 62 Christian Womanhood. No more her voice, in tones almost as sweet As those which angels use, warbled the songs Of Zion in our place of prayer. No more Our souls thrilled with the theme, as from her lips, In strains exultant, rose the words she loved So well — "In the cross of Christ I glory." Our voices faltered as we thought of her, Though well we knew that hers, hushed here below, "Was turned to nobler strains on high, To falter never more. How many miss and mourn for her I The light of heart pause on their gladsome way ; For she, whose bright example bade them seek The bliss that ne'er grows dim, no longer moves Among them. Those on whose bowed spirits care And sorrow press, shed tears of fond regret For her who pointed them to those blest scenes Where G-od for ever wipes all tears away. The "little ones" speak low, and cease their sport ; For she they loved so well they know will come To smile upon their guileless ways no more. Manhood and maidens turn aside to weep : She who had welcomed them to Zion's gates — "Whose soul was filled with joy when they in faith Bowed 'neath the baptismal wave — she whose prayers For them so oft had risen to the throne On high, is gone ! They weep that in the flesh They shall behold her welcome face no more. The strong in faith — the sanctified, with hopes Long fixed on high, and feet upon the Rock Of Ages, know that one who ever led Them on and upward is taken from their Ranks, — and they, too, mourn. The erring ones ! — Oh, they indeed have cause For grief! Like Him who said, "Neither do I Condemn," she longed to bring the wand'rers back. Her latest toils were for a " Refuge," where they Might learn of Him, the sinner's Friend, whose blood Can wash the darkest stains away. M. K. Uverts. 363 But in her home ; — ah, there's a void which earth Can never fill ! The son she gave to G-od And trained for heaven ; the daughters dear, whom "With prayers and tears she nurtured for the skies — How do they miss the hand that led, the voice m That cheered, the cherished form that bowed with them So oft in prayer. Beloved and stricken ones ! That hand sweeps now a golden lyre above ■ — That voice responsive swells the songs of heaven ; That form, adoring, bends before the throne. Walk in her footsteps here ; so shall ye share Her blessedness on high. And the man of G-od — (Tread softly here ; this seems like sacred ground,) "Who long had taken counsel sweet with her "Whose presence was as sunlight in his path ! We may not speak his loss, nor bring a balm To draw the sting from sorrow such as his. Eather would we in silence and in tears Eespect a grief our words could ne'er assuage. We feared that he might falter in his course ; For strong as was the spirit, yet the flesh Was weak ; but when, after his great grief, he Came forth and stood again before his charge, The Everlasting Arms were around him thrown. Strong in Jehovah's strength he stood, with words Of holy trust and faith upon his lips. Father, we thank thee for the grace and strength Vouchsafed to him. Still gird him with thy might ; Be thou his, — own and shield him e'en till he join His sainted one before th' eternal throne ; Where they, together, side by side shall stand, To cast their crowns, in humble adoration, At the Saviour's feet. B. de L. F. «