Yale University Library

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Gift of
Prof. Edward S. Dana
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MEMORIES

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An Elect Lady

" Bear ye one another's burdens, and si fulfil
the law of Christ "

CAMBRIDGE
|)tittteb ot the Kixiersibe |Jress
1877

CI 7^- '^

IRENE BATTELL EARNED.

I.
' I ^HESE remembrances, of one greatly be-
loved, have been gathered for her family
and personal friends, from a few of those nu
merous sources which might easily furnish a
multitude of fragrant memories — "a garden of
delights" — of one whose every step along her
earthly way, however weary it may have been for
herself, was marked with blessing for others.
Soon after the close of Mrs. Larned's life be
low, the earnest wish of very many that its pre,.
cious benediction might yet be retained in some
abiding form was thus expressed by one most
tenderly associated with her from infancy : " I
cannot tell you how irresistibly I feel impelled
by the desire that such a life should not be with
drawn from the observation of those who would
cherish the testimony of one of Christ's most

precious ones ; to whom was given the power to '
do his will, and who never withheld the service
that her hands found to do from the cradle to
the grave."
Those who have in any way contributed to the
preparation of this simple memorial have felt
how incomplete must be the portraiture they
could present of so fair and gracious a character
and life. Yet if any shall from her example,
even imperfectly portrayed, receive impulse and
strength to follow in her steps, which were the
steps of the Master, " who came not to be minis
tered unto, but to minister," may she not be per
mitted to rejoice, even beyond the veil, that she
can still be of use to those to. whom the best
energies of her life were untiringly given ?
While her extreme delicacy and humility would
instinctively shrink from eulogy of her virtues,
or exaltation of them for the emulation of others,
we believe that even this supreme demand upon
her self-sacrificing nature would be accepted with
the words so familiar to those who knew her, " If
I can do anything for them, let me do it." Thus
her tender and intense devotion to her own kin
dred, alone, seems to call for this memorial as
her parting legacy of blessing.

Especially is it earnestly desired that those
members of her family circle who were, too young
to receive from her that personal impression and
influence which so enshrined her in the hearts
of those who were older, may feel that this rec
ord is for them. Her love embraced them all.
It is the record of a consecrated life, that we
would inscribe, for the contemplation and imita
tion of children and children's children; a life in
which every endowment was reverently used in
the service of the Giver of all good and perfect
gifts. In the arrangement of this memorial little at
tempt will be made to maintain strict chronolog
ical order, as is necessary in a more formal biog
raphy. It is rather a portrait in mosaic we shall
endeavor to present ; each one who desires . to
offer loving tribute bringing a few precious
stones. It is hoped we may thus when all are
combined, secure a likeness, at least of partial
completeness, of that loveliness and excellence
we wish to preserve and perpetuate.
Of the early life and home of Mrs. Earned, a
friend has presented the following sketch.

II.
TRENE BATTELL was born in Norfolk,
•^ Connecticut, November 14, 181 1, the/53augh-
ter of a family consisting of four sons and five
daughters. Her father was a native of Milford, Connecti
cut. He was of French extract ; the first deed
of land possessed by the family in this country
having been granted to Mr. BattaiUe. Her
mother was the daughter of the first minister of
Norfolk, — Ammi Ruhamah Robbins, — who for
fifty-two years had that supreme influence in
moulding the character of his people which was
exercised by so many of the earlier pastors of the
New England towns, and which influence, in this
instance, was perpetuated by his descendants of
the third and fourth generation.
The mother of Mrs. Battell was the great
grand-daughter of William Bradford, and grand
daughter of Frances Le Baron, surgeon in the
French government service.
Norfolk is one of the most elevated towns in
Connecticut, the church and village green being
some thirteen hundred feet above the ocean.

The surface of the town is irregular, giving here
and there broad hill slopes and deeply cleft val
leys. One outlook is especially beautiful, toward
the northwest, which takes the eye along and
down a rapidly descending valley and brings it
to the grandly beautiful Taconic mountains.
The soil is productive but somewhat cold and
unkindly, and the winters are long and severe.
The village is not large, and with the exception
of two or three manufacturing enterprises the
population has been devoted to agriculture..
The people remained one religious commu
nity until the recent introduction of a Roman
Catholic organization. From 1760 till 1876 they
had three pastors.
In the year 1792 Mr. Battell, eighteen years
of age, settled on the village green, having at
his father's solicitation elected the life of a mer
chant rather than one of the professions. He
prosecuted his calling in the way which lingered
in Litchfield County till within a few years, — re
ceiving from the farmers the products of the
dairy and forwarding them to Hartford, Hudson,
and New York. His trade was extended to
other towns and to foreign ports, and he was
brought into close personal acquaintance with
the people of an extended neighborhood.

8
The capital of the county — Litchfield — also
had its festivals and gatherings, its court term,
its agricultural and missionary and musical as
sociations ; all giving to the county-life of those
times an intensely active as well as an elevated
social character. Mr. Battell from being at first
a country merchant was gradually led to engage
in other enterprises, and prominently such as
were opened or suggested by the occupation of
wild lahdsjn Vermont, New York, and Ohio, by
settlers from Connecticut. His gains were rapid
and sure, and he very early acquired the reputa
tion of being one of the ablest men of business
and one of the most prominent in the State.
As his family increased and grew up his house
became the centre of a large circle of visitors
who were entertained with sincere hospitality.
His daughters gathered about them a great num
ber of friends from towns and cities more or less
remote, with whom they often exchanged visits.
The stately house, which still stands upon the
village green, was often thronged with guests,
when it never failed to overflow with joyous life.
And yet the household was an earnest and sober
household. Mr. Battel] was eminently intellect
ual in his habits and tastes, a great reader, as

his well selected and diligently studied library
attested. The quick-minded and never resting
mother, who was also a great reader, was true to
her traditions as a minister's daughter, and held
fast to the faithful discipline which became a
Christian household. She kept her children in
constant and close association with the church
and the parsonage. The influence of the entire
family was identified as closely as possible with
the religious life of the people of Norfolk, and
their sympathies and aid were always generous
and prompt for the comfort and relief of the suf
fering. As the manifold missionary and other
associations for the progress of the kingdom of
God came one by one into being, the sympathy
and the contributions of Mr. Battell and his
family cheerfully responded to them all. Their
house was a home for clergymen, and a centre
for all ecclesiastical and religious meetings of
local and general interest. Literature of every
description gave strength and training and cul
ture to all the household. Music, vocal and in
strumental, was prosecuted with indefatigable
zeal and with unfailing delight. This interest
extended to the village church, which was one
of the few churches in city or country that could

lO
boast an organ at the time when Irene, a girl of
eleven, began to play upon it.
It was in this rural home and amid these do
mestic, social, and religious influences that she
was trained. It is impossible to understand her
character without keeping them all in mind.
She seemed to have inherited from her father in
a marked degree those traits which so fondly en
deared him to her, — rare kindness and generosity
of heart, great refinement, and ready sympathy
for any work of benevolence.
From her earliest childhood she manifested a
singular devotion to the comfort of others, and a
generous absorption of self in the interest of her
kindred, the suffering, and the church of God.
She possessed uncommon personal beauty.
She was somewhat stately in form, and bore her
self with a natural dignity which was tempered
with so much grace and softened by such sweet
ness of expression as to make her loving ways
more attractive, and to impart a subtle charm to
her manner. She had unusual physical strength
and powers of endurance, which continued unim
paired through the buoyant days of her youth.
Much of her early life was naturally spent away
from home, either at school, or in visits with

1 1
her many relatives and friends, or in travelling
with different members of her family.
Her universal kindness extended to all classes ;
to the low-bred and the most uncultivated as truly
as to the most accomplished and the more highly
favored. Her " natural piety," or what seemed
such, took definite form when at the age of four
teen she publicly assumed the vows of the Chris
tian profession. To these vows she was emi
nently faithful to the last moment of her life.
In all the varied excitements of her youth, amid
all the social gayeties of her girlhood, and the
varied acquaintanceships with which she was
brought in contact, she was true to her Master,
and was never ashamed of her profession, or in
consistent with the spirit and demeanor of an
earnest and loving disciple.

III.
' I ^HE following letter was written by one who
-^ initiated the idea of this memorial, and
whose enthusiastic interest has been the inspi
ration of the work ; one, whose life from its be
ginning and through advancing years was insep-

12
arably entwined with her's who now wears the
immortal crown : — -
"A superstition attached itself to the birth of my
dear sister when the attendant women presented
her to mother with a weird prophecy that she
would be a child of uncommon prescience and
wonderful beauty. She sometimes laughingly
referred to the incident as having quickened her
power of insight into character, and having con
ferred upon her a mission that she would gladly
fulfill if it could be revealed to her. If not made
apparent to her, it did reveal itself to others from
the cradle to the grave. Any review of her life
must attest a mission of a self-sacrificing glorious
womanhood that to me seems without precedent.
" She was baptized by her grandfather. Rev.
A. R. Robbins, receiving ' the gentle name of
Peace,' after his sister, Mrs. Irene R. Thompson.
" Many years later, this acrostic was written by
a college friend : —
"'AN ACROSTIC TO I . . . E.
BY J. A- SMITH, YALE, i8z5.
" ' Irene, in Greek, the gentle name of Peace,
Really, with Battell may not well be classed ;
Emblem of thee, the first do not release.
Nor deem me rude to give advice, unasked, —
E'en keep the former, change, I pray, the last.
" ' Turk's Island, W, S.

13
" We have her portrait, taken with dear moth
er's, when an infant of six months- Her elder sis
ter, Sarah, stands admiringly over her ; the artist
having been fascinated with the caressing pos
ture the latter took as he was drawing the mother
and child. It was not his intention to produce
a Madonna della Seggiola, but unwittingly the
baby sister drew the elder to her side, and the
portrait retains the significance almost of the
worship of the little Saint John. In the face of
the baby are foreshadowed the beautiful maiden,
the ' blessed wife ' (as Mr. Earned endearingly
called her), the devoted daughter and sister, the
unerring promise of that mission which has so
often been ascribed to her since her departure,
namely, that she bore our burdei^^so fulfilling the
law of Christ.
" Her seriousness of demeanor was so marked
in her early childhood that she was sometimes
called in the household, ' Sober Reny.' It was
rather the earnestness of her nature that so im
pressed itself upon her countenance. Yet she
was one of those ' little maidens ' of whom
Wordsworth sang, ' her beauty made me glad.'
" When ten years of age, the poet Brainard
wrote some charming stanzas, called ' The

14
Nosegay,' on the occasion of her having tied for
him, of a dewy morning, a bunch of buds and
flowers. '"THE NOSEGAY.
" 'I'll pull a bunch of buds and flowers,
And tie a ribbon round them.
If you '11 but think in your lonely hours
Of the sweet little girl that bound them.
" ' I '11 cull the earliest that put forth.
And those that last the longest.
And the bud t*hat-boasts the fairest birth
Shall cling to the stem that 's strongest.
" ' I 've run about the garden walks.
And searched among the dew, sir.
These tender leaves, these fragrant stalks,
I 've plucked them all for you, sir !
" ' So here 's your bunch of buds and flowers.
And here 's the ribbon round them.
And here, to cheer your saddened hours.
Is the sweet little girl that bound them ! '
" There is a passage in Miss Sedgwick's ' Hope
Leslie ' describing the color of a brown silk
which ' Aunt Deborah ' wished Hope to procure
for her in New York. It purports to be the

15
color of Hope's hair; the golden glint in the
sunlight, and sober brown in the shade. It was
related to me that Miss Sedgwick conceived the
idea from noticing the beauty of Irene's hair,
when she dined with her at a boarding-house in
New York.
" It would be dijfficult to decide in which of the
domestic virtues she most excelled, or whether
her aesthetic qualities shone more conspicuously
than the ' home-bred.' I have told you of the
care she assumed in the nursery while mother
was occupied among her flowers and in house
hold duties, beginning with myself, whom she
rocked sitting in the cradle at my feet and sing
ing the solemn tune of ' Denmark.' At eleven
years of age she played the church organ, and
continued to do so until her marriage.
"When absent from home, engaged in the pros
ecution of her studies, she would be recalled
from school to participate in all celebrations
whether of a religious or secular character, to
whose success her musical talents invariably
contributed. In all those years she imparted to
her home the inspiration of her genius. She
was instant in season and out of season in train
ing young people in the art of holy song. To

i6
all who evinced an aptitude to learn she was a
willing and indefatigable teacher on the piano ;
and at night she would gather about her those
desiring instruction in vocal music. Hour by
hour she would sit in the freezing atmosphere
of the village church, to drill bass, tenor, soprano,
and contralto in their respective parts, in prep
aration for ordinary church music, or an oc
casional concert. One says : ' She threw her
whole soul into these concerts, imparting cour
age to the timid, correcting and assisting every
one who had a part to perform, and always doing
this so kindly that every one felt it a privilege to
be under her criticism. I well remember how
she used to take my hand in hers to give me
confidence at singing-school, and with her head
bent down to my ear to have me catch the per
fect sound, she would correct and encourage
alternately. " And so music became our pastime. At
every gathering in-doors and out, party, sleigh-
ride or picnic, we sang; and we gained from
music that pure enjoyment which protected us
against the introduction of other amusements
that doubtless would have proved far less satis
factory. One lady, eighty years of age, being

17
asked recently if she remembered a certain
' county concert,' replied, ' Oh, yes, perfectly well,
and the Battell girls sang beautifully. Miss
Irene played the organ so nicely, and they' wore
wreaths of damask roses around their heads.'
" A lady present at one of these concerts re
calls her impression of my sister. ' She seemed
to my youthful imagination a celestial vision
as she came forward, and opened with the reci.
tativC; " Angels ever bright and fair." Other
priestesses of song have thus electrified an audi
ence, but her culture, her loveliness, bore out the
illusion which so deeply impressed me that all
these years of absence from the county have
failed to efface it from my memory.'
" Her character enshrined the moral excellence
which she endeavored to impart to others through
the power of music. I would not be the eulogist,
but I could not but think when the everlasting
doors were opened to her^ of the innumerable
throng that would greet her coming ; from Mir
iam, with her timbrel, to the many sweet singers
whom she had led in holy song and with whom
she would forever join in the song of Moses and
the Lamb.
" My sister made confession of her faith under

i8
the ministry of Rev. Ralph Emerson, in Norfolk,
July, 1827. She combined the untiring diligence
of Martha with the loving confidence of Mary,
ever hastening with willing feet at the call of
the Master to labor or to learn as He should re
quire. " A sister of Professor Larned's has recently
said, with much truth, ' We need to remember
that Irene had almost literally the whole world
at her feet, to appreciate fully her life of entire
devotion to others. It does not seem to me she
ever did anything for herself Even what she
was obliged to have for herself and her home
seemed chosen alone with reference to others. I
have certainly never seen such entire self-abnega
tion ; and this, I believe, was her characteristic
from childhood, and in the days of her first bloom
and beauty, when she might have been excused for
thinking that she was of more consequence than
any one else. I have thought of her lately in
reading over " Daniel Deronda," and contrasting
her with poor Gwendolen and her claims to uni
versal supremacy.'
" We have but one portrait of Irene taken from
life. This was painted by Henry Inman in
1834. Other copies of an indifferent photograph

19
of recent date convey to those who knew her
something of her thoughtful, benevolent face.
" She inherited a most vigorous constitution,
and her admirable physique enabled her to en
dure great fatigue and ceaseless activity in her
works of mercy which, if she did not seek, were
always opened up to her willing hands, through
out her girlhood as well as in later life.
" Watching, night after night, seemed to be a
pastime, and in the illness of any of our family
circle she would not remit her watch and care
for an hour unless forced to do so by the patient
in charge. A friend alludes to ' her loving min
istry in the night season, when the heavenly
world seemed about to open,' as witnessing
* how near she was in heart to the King immortal
and invisible.'
" Our dear father's death occurred on Novem*-
ber 30, 1 84 1. From that dread event, — almost
the first shadow that had crept over our home —
my poor sister's hands hung down, and none but
God could lift them up. But He triumphed in
her faith, and she resumed her place with greater
devotion to her family and to those who mourned
or suffered than ever before. Though from that
time her health seemed somewhat impaired_,her

20
tension of nerve and will never allowed her to
succumb, nor could she be persuaded to give
herself relaxation. A day's confinement she
feared might loose the chord, and she must keep
it tightly strung for others, until it should finally
snap. " She clung to the memories of her youth with
remarkable tenacity. Her last work at Norfolk
was to superintend the erection of a monument
to her beloved brother Joseph, and among her
latest legacies were those providing for a perma
nent stone enclosure to protect the town burial
ground, and a memorial music-hall to be attached
to the home in which we were all born and
reared. " Her last illness was the sudden yielding of the
forces of nature. The silver cord being loosened,
she resigned herself to the will of the Creator.
Surrounded by her family friends at her beloved
home in New Haven, the heavens opened, and
she passed into the open vision, to be seen of
those on earth who so much loved her, no more,
till they too shall enter into the inheritance se
cured to all who trust in our blessed Lord.
" Mrs. Larned's last effort of praise in song was
the night before her voice was silenced here for-

21
ever. She often desired her nurse to sing favor
ite hymns, and that night requested her to sing a
hymn which Mr. Earned often repeated with. her,
' There is a land of pure delight.' The nurse
responded in an unfamiliar tune. She said, ' Not
that tune,' and tried to sing the old familiar air
of ' Jordan.' But the effort was beyond her
strength, and owing to her own agitation she
could not proceed. Who can doubt that the
strain was gathered up by the celestial choir, and
that the harmony of those two wedded lives is
now complete in the ' sweet fields beyond the
swelling flood.' Urania B. Humphrey."

IV.
A yr RS. LARNED'S nature and character
were emphatically many-sided in rich
ness and beauty. In dwelling upon one phase
of the picture we might easily overlook another
of equal loveliness. In regarding the intensity
of her affection for her own family and life-long
devotion to their welfare, it might almost appear
that she must have concentrated her interest
within the circle of her numerous kindred ; that

22

even such wealth of feeling and effort as hers
must have been exhausted. But all who knew
her will bear eager and hearty testimony to the
wideness of her love and to her untiring zeal in
every good word and work.
After her marriage, in July, 1843, to Professor
Earned of Yale College, her home was in New
Haven ; and those who were associated with her
there will tell us how fruitful in blessing was her
life ; how she was ever ready to contribute to so
ciety all that her natural gifts and fine culture
enabled her to bring for its delight and eleva
tion ; how devoted she was to her friends, deem
ing no task too trivial, or too great, if by assum
ing it she could serve them ; how by her cordial
hospitality and beautiful courtes}'' she made her
house a home for many, and a charm for all ;
and how by abundant labors and substantial aid,
she proved her devotion to the college, and to
the prosperity of the church.
How many, who were students in Yale Col
lege, have felt a deep sense of personal loss as
they liave heard of her departure. How many
will ever gratefully cherish her memory as they
recall her kindness, and the friendly delicate
ways she would take to find out and relieve their
needs for sympathy, counsel, or assistance.

23
We shall be told how greatly the musical in
terests of the city were advanced by her influ
ence and efforts ; of her work in the hospital,
as by her voice and by the labor of her hands,
she caused cheer and comfort to many a weary
sufferer. Her devotion to the colored race, and
patronage of a school for their benefit will not
be forgotten ; and her visitations to the poor,
sick, and sorrowing, the aged and infirm of all
classes, as by day and by night she ministered to
their wants temporal and spiritual, caused many
to " call her blessed."
Soon after her death, an aged saint of eighty-
six years thus touchingly expressed in trembling
lines her love and gratitude : " I wish to express
my deep sympathy with you in this sore breave-
ment; for your dear sister has been to me in
my advanced age and infirmities, so kind and
watchful and sympathizing. I shall so feel her
loss. "She has left a bright record, and gone we
trust to her reward. May her example stimulate
us all to follow in her footsteps so far as she
followed our Saviour. Do let me share in your
sympathies and prayers."
Another, who loved her, wrote, " You well

24
know what Mrs. Earned has been to me ever
since we came here ; more than all in New
Haven combined."
One bound to her by a long and affectionate
intimacy says, " I have never been more rever
ently attached to any one in my life. I never
knew a character that seemed to me so abso
lutely pure and unselfish. I am sure thousands
mourn her this day ; many who will never ap
pear. She was so intensely sympathetic, so un
consciously, yet so wonderfully helpful to any
human being that needed human aid. She will
always live in my memory. I shall always see
her moving from house to house, always attracted
to sorrow and suffering, and always going where
she felt there was need of pity or aid. And her
nature was sweeter than her deeds. She was so
pure, so loving, so full of delight in all that was
beautiful. She had so many exquisite tastes, so
much appreciation of the finest as well in nature
as in art and character. How such a void can
be filled I cannot see."
Mrs. Larned's generosity of feeling and of
service was as wide as were the scenes in which
she mingled. Not more sensitively was her ear
attuned to catch the most delicate musical har-

25
mony than was her heart to discern and respond
to the faintest cry of suffering.
This was strikingly illustrated by an incident
that occurred on the Mississippi River, during
an excursion she was making with her brother
Joseph and sister Sarah.
There was much alarm prevailing at that time
from cholera ; and as distressed with apprehen
sion for her brother and sister, she was keeping
her night-watch, unknown to them, near their
doors in the cabin of the boat, she overheard
the physician giving orders that a gentleman
who had been seized with symptoms of cholera
must be strictly watched and ministered to
throughout the night.
Though an entire stranger to her, except in
name, learning that he was unaccompanied by
any personal friend, she immediately gave her
whole attention to the sick man ; made all the
appliances, and administered the medicines pre
scribed, and this silently and deftly, as was her
wont, lest others should become alarmed.
He was out of danger and convalescent with.
out its having been known that the disease was
on the boat. He recognized his obligation to
her sublime courage and skillful care, but not

26
even to the sister who has related the incident,
did she ever allude to the good deed.
" Blessing she is 1 God made her so.
And deeds of week-day holiness
Fall from her noiseless as the snow ;
Nor hath she ever chanced to know
That aught were easier than to bless."

V.
A /T RS. LARNED'S friends will strongly de-
sire that her peculiar characteristics
might reveal themselves through extended ex
tracts from her own words as found in letters
to friends. Nothing that could be said about
her could be of as much interest as to let her
speak for herself But it has been found in ex
amining her letters, especially those addressed to
the members of her family, that the very inten
sity and minuteness of her interest in those to
whom, and about whom, she wrote, renders it in
a great measure difficult to select passages which
are not too exclusively personal to be quoted.
For this and other reasons, it has been thought
best not to attempt to make large or numerous

27
extracts from her correspondence. It will be
pleasant to feel, in giving a few quotations illus
trating her character, that the restriction need
not be as severe as if this memorial were in
tended for a more public circulation; and that
familiar allusions to her family and friends will
only serve to give naturalness and interest to the
recital. The kindness of Mrs. Larned's nature, and
the constancy of her affection, were strikingly
displayed in her faithfulness to her absent friends
through her pen. It was a wonder to those who
knew how busy her daily life was, that she could
find time to scatter so widely those letters which
fell like "leaves of healing" among those who
received them, — letters of sympathy, of cheer,
and information ; letters of. counsel and comfort,
of encouragement and strong help.
An aged aunt says: " How kind she was to tell
me of all the family welfare ; how the very sight
of her handwriting always gladdened my heart,"
and adds : " How dear she was to me words can
not tell ; and her unfailing sympathy and love
were a constant solace in my loneliness. Indeed
she seemed born to be a blessing to all with
whom she came in contact. Our tears will flow

28
for thee, darling Irene ! but thy tears are all for
ever wiped away, and we will check our grief
when we remember thy gladness and thy glory."
The children connected with the various
branches of her family would need no other tes
timony than that which the letters of the beloved
*' Aunt Irene " afford them of how constantly
she bore them on her heart. Having no children
of her own, she seemed to embrace them all in
the rich motherhood of her nature. She always,
if possible, kept some of their number with her ;
interesting herself in all that concerned them,
superintending their education in the best
schools, and giving them a happy home. She
writes to a friend, " I have always some of the
children with me when the schools are in session,
which keeps me in remembrance of youth, and
gives life and love to my heart," and adds charac
teristically, " Not the same one; though, for I am,
they say, morbid on that point. I do not want
one being to become necessary to my happiness.
I take one and another as is agreeable to the
parents, thereby endeavoring to be of some use
to the family in general.^'
Was the son of a beloved sister away from
home, and ill, — though receiving the best of care,

29
^her tender heart would impel her thus to
write : —
" I am filled with anxiety for J  . It seems
to me more of us ought to be constantly with
him. I think it would be such a comfort to him
to have his own family near by. I cannot bear
to be separated from him ; but I am not willing
to leave Joseph while he is so unwell. It seemed
. to me wrong, — not wrong, but strange, for us to be
at Saratoga and J  suffering. I thought so
when there, and it was at times distressing . to
me ; but it seemed necessary for the welfare of all,
to stay, and we were not absent in spirit or sym-
pathy, though little was said. Dear boy, to God
I continually commend him. He, alone, has de
fended and will defend him. I have heard a good
sermon to-day from ' Have faith in God.' It was
timely, and a comfort to my weak and anxious
soul  r do believe God bears your prayers
for your child, and will effect in his heart what
you desire more than his health of body. Be satis
fied if you have not the testimony you crave. No
testimony is so sure as the promises of God.
The prayers offered for your boy ever since he
was born have gone up ; some of them weak and
faithless, it may be, but some are presented by

30
the Holy One, for whose sake the Father will ac
cept and forgive. Let us trust all in God's
hands, let Him do as He will. If we love any
thing, we do love God and his Son. We would
not have our own way if we could. Let us leave
it all, only praying all the time for spiritual
strength and holy lives and hearts for all we
love." To a young niece just recovering from severe
illness, she-writes: —
. . . . " How little worth is the body. The
soul is all — the heart — and God wants it, now.
He wants your love, dear, your obedience ; and
what joy to feel that He is ours, and we are his.
Every dayj every hour, it is a delight and a faint
foreshadowing of what is to come."
Was her brother-in-law worn and in need of
rest, she would thus express to her sister her
anxiety and eagerness to help : " I wish to use
all my influence to make him leave his business.
It is no time to hesitate ; whatever may be the
consequence to that, I cannot think of it. Do
make him go. I will come down at your bidding
and take the best care I can of the house and
children, as long as is desirable, so that you can
go with him. I should have gone at once had I
not been held here by company."

31
How strikingly the identity of Mrs. Larned's
happiness with that of her family, as well as her
modesty in disclaiming the praise accorded to
her, are illustrated in the following extract ftom a
letter to her sister : —
" Your letter of yesterday came this rhorriing :
many thanks. How you must have enjoyed sis
ter Ellen's visit. I should have wanted it, but
that somehow that which affords comfort to the
family is just as directly a comfort- to me as if
personally bestowed.
" I have sometimes been told by flattering and
indiscriminating friends that I am unselfish,
never wishing to appropriate to myself the ordi
nary blessings of life. But if these individuals
were behind the curtain they would find a very
different character. My own pleasure, my happi
ness in life, can only be gained by the prosperity
and comfort of my family. I want nothing sep
arate from this. Hence, it is, in one sense, the
extreme of selfishness that leads me to live only in
them. A sorry account I sometimes think I
must give for all the blessings and powers that
the Father has crowned my days with. And so
I was quite willing Ellen should stay all the time
she could be from home with you and Anna."

32

VI.

/^NE of Mrs. Larned's most cherished attach-
^^ ments was formed in childhood, for a
cousin,with whom she rambled in happy com
panionship, over the green slopes of the Norfolk
hills. In mature life they always maintained a
hearty friendship, and it was their custom, for
many years, each to mark the birthday of the
other with a letter of remembrance. They have
now exchanged the transient greetings of earth
for the unbroken fellowship of the heavenly
home. We give some df her words to him, quoted
from the birthday letters, as showing both her
constancy to old friendships, and the tenacity
with which she clung to early associations and
memories. "Norfolk, September 2, 1852. — In watching
for this anniversary day amid scenes familiar to
our younger years, it has seemed, almost, as if the
day would bring you to me, that I might say to
you much that a pen will not express. Not that
I need you, with your quick perception, to aid in
recalling those happy days, but I should like to

33
forget for the day all the intervening years, and
wander over the ledge, hearing nothing but the
birds, the water, the wind through the leaves, and
your own voice. How little of care had our
young hearts, and with what a single eye did we
look at the future. I do not believe I looked be
yond your laughing eyes, or dreamed of a cloud
they could not dispel. The remembrance, even
now, brings joy. A sweet friendship was ours,
dear cousin, and, if you do not forget me, it shall
continue all our days.
" All that you could tell me, if you were here, of
those you love, of your prosperity and prospects,
would be listened to, in that still resort, with all
the earnestness excited by the topics of other
days. ¦ May be you might say the same words.
and I well remember there was measure and
rhythm to most I listened to, which this locality
might easily re-awaken."
" New Haven, September 2, 1855. — I doubt if
any circumstances could take me through the day
bearing this date without reminiscences and
hopes connected with yourself
. ..." I need not tell you how interested I
was in the description of your children, in your
last welcome letter. See to it, that they do not
s

34
get more than one generation away from New
England. Though we are degenerate, we are
not unmindful of what we ought to be as repre
sentatives of the good and wise ; and I live in
the hope of seeing a better influence prevail,
higher arid more noble purposes. To be of New
England, though one generation removed, is a
proud birthright.
" I want to inquire if that yo.ung son of yours is
to be your successor in public office. If so, and
he fulfill his obligation to his name, at his ap
pointment I will send him an ermine robe, and
his young lady sisters shall have chairs of state.
" I gave you my blessing early this morning,
and there is never a time when the heart would
not prompt an utterance of an earnest wish that
nothing but good may be yours."
"" September 2, 1856. — . . . . You know how
earnestly I hope God may bless you. The years,
how fast they go ! You and I were never alike.
It seemed strange to me that you held me in
remembrance ; even stranger, that I had ever
your sympathy. My interest was always excited
by anything beautiful, and I have a vivid recol
lection of personalities and elements in you that
absorbed many a pleasant hour in my young

35
days, and fixed an interest that must live forever.
My head is full of pleasant memories whigh this
sweet day revives and gladdens. But I cannot
but be mindful that the end must come, and
with a sadness that you never had, the element
of which I had from the beginning. I had never
your frolicsome heart, you know, and perhaps
that was the reason yours was so pleasant to me.
I was a sober girl. I am a sober woman."
"September 2, 1858. — How long it is from
November to September ! So much I think of
you ; and if birthdays only came more frequently,
or, if I could see you, how much I should
talk. It is well for you, as a busy man, that we
are not in one neighborhood ; for, you may re
member, it takes me a long time to say my
thoughts; a failing my husband does not en
courage in his profession, though I must give
him credit for submitting to it patiently in his
own house.
" One thing . I am glad of — you are in most
things as I thought you would be. Some of my
early friends disappoint me; they seem dead
while they live ; dead, I mean, to any earnest life.
I cannot say but I am myself; but you were al
ways fresh, awake to the interests of life, with a

36
quick perception of all that is beautiful and true
of life's blessings.
" I wish I could put before one of your children
a book, bearing in your hand-writing upon the
first leaf —
" ' Cousin Irene. — I have gathered a nosegay of flowers,
with nothing of my own but the string that binds them, and
I -would request you to accept them, as a slight token of the
esteem of G. G.
" ' Litchfield, September 2, 1828. '
" I suppose your children can hardly realize that
you could, so many years ago, have existed ; much
less, that you could distinguish the beauties of
the " flowers " gathered. But I venture to as
sert, that Judge as you are, your ability to decide
upon what was gathered in that nosegay was as
good in 1828 as it is now. I dare say you have
forgotten this little red book, but there is not a
stanza or a line in it, that is not to me, and al
ways will be, as beautiful as you thought it when
it was copied into this book.
. . . . " This is a lovely day. Everything looks
bright and beautiful. So may all the days be to
vou and your house, and the hour which comes
%o all be distant that shall mark the setting of
"that sun which has shed 4^ much light and joy
on its way."

"September 2, 1863. — The day of the year so
long marked as affording ' liberty of speech ' has
come to me. How eagerly I look forward to it,
and when it comes language seems feeble and
utterance is denied me. Yet there is a full con
sciousness that my heart yearns with the desire
that I may be grateful for the watchful care a
kind Providence has extended over you; that
you may recognize his gift, and in the spirit of
a sanctified child give back an obedient lifej and
a devoted, filial heart.
" Whether the days to come are few or many,
whether they bring joys or sorrow, you are safe,
perfectly safe. I can neither ask or wish for
more. Indeed, I have learned that I cannot
trust my own wishes in respect to human life.
I do not know what I want — what you want.
God knows; and my prayer is for you, as for
myself ' Do for us as seemeth good to thee, my
Father.' " This is but the beginning of life ; the joy is
forever and forever increasing. There is a secu
rity — -abiding — that cannot pass away. May
that be ours."

38

VII.

A N interesting custom which prevails in Mrs.
Larned's family, — one which was intro
duced by her mother, who faithfully adhered to
it through all her married life, — is that of keep
ing a brief record of the most interesting events
of every day on fly-leaves inserted in the yearly
almanac. The children and grandchildren have
been taught to regard this as "almost a sacred
custom ; and so extensively has it been observed
throughout the different branches of the family,
one might find, in these little books, the definite
story of their doings and experiences for three
quarters of a century.
Mrs. Earned upheld this custom with charac
teristic enthusiasm, and often would send back
her interest into the scenes, and among the peo
ple, long gone by, as if they were now present.
It is amusing to find in her letters such passages
as this : " It is cold, but not as cold as it was
twenty-nine years ago." Or, she would date a
letter, thus, "Jan. 12. Lizzie's mother's birth
day sixty-two years ago." Would not the lovely
cousin, who died in her youthful beauty, be glad

39
to know that there was one constant heart re
membering her birth-day, with loving thought,
so many long years after ?
Mrs. Earned used to claim as her special New
Year's prerogative the pleasure of sending large
numbers of the new almanac to her brothers and
sisters, nieces, and other relatives, bearing some
word of hope, like this, " May it be filled to the
end with a cheerful record."
Once we find her writing to her sister, ill, be
reaved, depressed, and dreading to begin the new
chapter in her life : " You must not feel so about
your almanac. You know you have had a dread
about writing in them for many years. If you
look through the record there have been sore
distresses, but oh, how many deliverances ! Go
on recording till,
" ' Morning high and higher shines
To pure and p.erfect day.' "

VIII.
T N contemplating the unremitting activity and
usefulness of Mrs. Larned's life, it will ap
pear even more remarkable if we remember that

40
she had always, after her earliest years, to con
tend against delicate health, — often against
acute suffering. Bravely did she battle with all
that opposed what was to her the life of life —
her ministry of love for others.
Repeatedly did the waves of sorrow sweep
over her sensitive heart, leaving it torn and
bleeding by bereavement ; and though she was
sometimes prostrated by the blow, yet she would
rise again, and with an added tenderness of sym
pathy and of touch, seek to bind up other's
v.'ounds and thus find healing for her own.
Allusion has been made to her first great sor
row in the loss of her father. Her mother's
death, a few years later, was an overwhelming
grief In i86^ there was a day of dreadful dark
ness in her house, when her beloved husband,
who had lelt her a few hours before, apparently
in exuberant health, was brought in to her
blighted home — lifeless. Hidden disease had
suddenly unmasked itself and he was gone ;
without a word or look of farewell to her who
was his light and joy. " The tender care, the
radiant face are mine no more, and oh, this si
lence ! But God took him. As God will."
But though she thus meekly bowed her head

41
in submission to the will of her Lord, who^ she
firmly believed could make no mistakes in his
orderings for his children, yet this terrible ca
lamity cast a shadow over her remaining life that
made it pathetic, while she still struggled to
keep on her way wherever she could yet hope
to be of use or comfort.
Then, in 1874, she was called to mourn the
departure of her beloved " elder brother," Joseph,
in whom, especially after the death of her hus
band, she concentrated her love and ministra
tions with peculiar and touching devotion.
Soon after his death, she wrote to her sister :
" My life is desolate without my brother. I do
not suffer myself to think of my loss if I can
help it, and to avoid it I wander in mind and
body into any occupation, seeking to be ab
sorbed, until it seems as if all power of thought
or action had vanished. But when I think of
our blessings, — that I have you, and all the
others ; that you are in comfortable health, as I
have reason to hope, with food and raiment,
friends and home, — I can see how wrong it is
to complain.
. ..." I suppose I am peculiar in holding on
to trifles connected with those who are gone,

42
and who were so dear to me. My brother was a
part of my own being, and is now in all the in
fluence of it ; and now I feel that even the little
things that we used to look over together, with
out much thought, but in perfect unity, which
are of no value to any one but me, are a part of
himself So I would protect and possess them.
Let us remain bound in his and our love.
" I went last evening to a praise meeting in the
Marquand Chapel, and Professor Carter, who
addressed us, said : ' The Psalmist exclaimed,
Hallelujah, for the Lord reigneth. He praised
God, not for personal blessings, but that the
Omnipotent va\e.s, and governs;' and I have taken
the lesson home. His words fell upon a poor
weak woman like the dew of the morning."
Again she writes, " I want very much to go to
Norfolk, but, somehow, I feel afraid of the excite
ment, the memories. Though I do not feel it
there, it is many years since the reaction has not
prostrated me when I get home. I do not find
pleasure in 'change,' but like to stay in one
place, and keep busy, as the only way I can en
dure the grief of my heart. If there is anything
I can do for them there, and my feet can take
me, I shall go.

43
" Does it not seem to us now as if our early life
were only free and full of gladness — enjoyment
in everything — content everyway ? But I sup
pose we had, even then, our burdens and trials,
so small, that we have forgotten them in the
mountain waves of a deeper sea. But there is
a certain light somewhere, in the future, whether
in the body or out of the body, I cannot say,
God knows.

IX.
nPHE extracts that follow are taken from let-
¦*- ters addressed to a sister in Europe, in
1875-76; who, during the latter part of her ab
sence, and after her return, was prostrated by
illness, causing Mrs. Earned great solicitude.
" I cannot say with what eagerness I read your
letters over and over. When I recall what re
markable freedom you have bad from disaster
and physicah suffering I feel as if I ought to be
joyful every moment. I believe that all will be
ordered right, and I trust that permanent good
will result from the experience of the year. We
are drifting along faster than steam power or a

44
four-horse diligence, towards the haven of rest (I
hope), and it will not seem much to have suffered
disappointment or enjoyed the blessings of life ;
so that we are obedient to the divine law and our
own conscience, ' all will work for good.'
" How much you have seen and learned. Every
day brings new beauties and interests. Yale
College seems insignificant compared with Ox
ford, but it is all we are able yet to manage, and
I am only afraid it is growing too fast.
. ..." I am glad you are all in St. Petersburg,
and Moscow, too. Who ever imagined when we
drew our maps, painting and pointing them, that
so many of the family would ever see Russia !
Do you remember, it used to be a question how
Mos-cow was pronounced t I do hope that
mooted question, especially of the " cow," will be
decided, and that Samantha Knapp will not be
our standard authority for the coming time.
Have you thought of Elizabeth of Siberia, and
that you have not, like her, to travel on your
feet.?" . ..." It was good to get your letter, but I
am sadly disappointed that you are not gaining
faster. I expected that you were living in Nice,
— that famed resort — like other people ; in the

45
full enjoyment of the climate, society, food, fruit
and flowers. I do not like the sound of ' gruel
and beef-tea.' This last report has just about
put the finishing touch upon me.
" I never did like ' foreign travel.' It will do for
those who must go ; for philanthropists and
politicians and ' penny a line ' people ; but in
this short journey of life those who love one
another better ride in the same coach. ' What
God hath joined together ' let not the ocean
separate. " Robbins is getting papa's picture copied by
Le Clear. His portraits are fine — like Elliott's
more than any other artist's, it seems to me. I
went to-day into Page's studio. He is enthu
siastic on the subject of the mask of Shake
speare, owned by Dr. Becker of Cambridge, and
had models all over the walls. I had an interest
ing interview with him."
. ..." I do so long to see you and have you
home again. I am hardly able to get on without
you, and don't know what to do or think, all shut
up, as I always am without you. You always
were a royal helper. But it is not worth while
to groan, nor right, either. We are both where
God in his providence has placed us, and, as

«^

46
you say, -in his kind protection. The night is
long. Your boat moves — as Doctor Bushnell
says — drowsily ; and it is far from being in still
water. But bad as it is, I believe God will bring
you out of it ; possibly not to full vigor, but to a
serene and happy life, diffusing to us all strength
and joy. We will not mind your loss of flesh,
and you will regain it. Do not look like me,
please. I do not look at myself, and I must look
at you.
" Dear sister Sarah, what a comfort she is, and
always has been, coming up to the old house.
Do you remember, how every morning, dear
mother would gravely assert the need of ' send
ing for Sarah to-day,' and Sarah would come,
without fail }
. ..." I can see you are thinking with dread
of the future. Do not be anxious. God does
not require us to be resigned to sorrows that He
does not bring upon us, and that are the crea
tion of our own fears, which are the domain of
nature, not of grace. There is a natural outcry
in suffering, and the God of compassion will for
give it, if indeed it needs forgiveness."

47

IX.

¦pvURING the winter of 1877 Mrs. Larned's
^~^ condition of health caused her friends seri
ous anxiety. The silver cord was indeed loosen
ing, but that to which the anchor within the
veil was securely fastened grew brighter and
stronger day by day.
Errands of mercy were the last interests that
drew her from her house. After she had become
so enfeebled that her friends remonstrated
against her attempting any effort, she would still
steal away on some mission of love. In one in
stance she walked a long distance to visit an in
temperate man whom she had befriended, and
who'^ she feared would again yield to temptation
if he missed the restraining influence of her
sympathy and encouragement. W^hen she could
do no more, she would creep away, if friends re
mitted their loving watch, to the attic and search
through trunks of clothing (already well depleted
for similar purpose.s) to make new plans and pro-/
vision for the needy.
Most of the letters from which we now give
brief extracts were written from her sick-room.

48
" I long to see you all but could do you no
good. I think I am gaining all the time, and
hope to be well again when I can do my usual
amount of walking. I suppose, if we could both
have a Rip Van Winkle sleep, it would be the
best restorative we could adopt. We cannot
help moving or thinking, however great our ef
fort of will. We must pray God to help us to
do nothing. Our theory is all right, but the
habit of doing, the quick perception that others
cannot do, the drag of neglected work, the
needs of others, they all come up, and except
by superhuman power we cannot help doing.
But we will try with God's willing aid to keep
from it, and then hope to get well."
. ..." I think I am gathering up strength
from day to day, in the complete rest of my daily
routine. I don't precisely stop, but the pendu
lum moves slowly, while the days and hours are
not long or wearisome. My Father is my por
tion, and I recognize his hand, and although
' afar off', ask his forgiving mercy."
. ..." I have been thinking, within a few
days, how strangely everybody lives. Now, why
do we not live and get ready for going home?
Why do we not. talk to one another about it, as

49
for arrangements in this life ? It is not the fash
ion — the custom. But would it not be better if
it were ? and then we might be less afraid to die
and less afraid of the ills of life."
. . . . " Do not overdo yourself, and take good
•care of dear ' little A.' What a general reputa
tion she is getting for excellence and ability !
Everyone inquires for her with respectful consid
eration, and I don't know but we shall have to
drop the ' little ' for ' great.'
" I don't take as good care of myself as I ought,
I know. Living up to one's own standard, physi
cally, as well as morally, demands more than hu
man power. Oh, if you and I could patiently
wait, and do nothing else. I cannot, till I am
physically paralyzed, though I do try hard.
The habit of motion is so confirmed in me
that I cannot even think without it. Poor hu
manity ! "
. . . . " What an honor to be used as an in
strument to effect God's design ! A brief period
of time we are here. How shall we open our
immortal life when we lay the body down } How
glad we shall be if we have been patient and
good here, and are washed clean in Christ. It
7

50
all seems stranger and stranger to me, but I do
hope my faith grows."
On her last Christmas day, she wrote : " Your
letter was a great present to me this morning.
By the w^ay, did you ever think with what a dif
ferent feeling we look at a postman now, as he
approaches, from what we did at William or
Philip as they came across the green, or the
road, with the letters ; when without anxiety or
apprehension we rejoiced in honeysuckle and
roses, or in sliding down hill, at home ? I sup
pose if we ever reach the home of the blessed
we shall have a greater freedom from anxiety
than we had at home, and not till then.
" I was glad to hear of your Christmas visit
from your grandson — so bright and pleasant. I
have no grandson. Did you ever think of that ?
Count your blessings, dear, and God grant the
boy may be worthy of his name."
Her last words to this sister were written in
the latter part of April in pencil : " I wish I
could transport, and put down by your side, this
basket of exquisite flowers just sent in to me."
" How many comforts we have. It seems to
me we should have but one song — of praise."
Her friends sacredly treasure the last written

51
words, the books, messages, and delicate remem
brances, that went forth from that " Chamber of
Peace," to assure them there was no waning in
the love which had so long been their strength
and their joy. " The sweet notes and books I
have received from the invalid within the past few
weeks have made the ties of long-tried friend
ship still stronger," wrote one, to those who were
ministering to their beloved sister in those last
days of fading life.
Two of Mrs. Larned's most valued friends,
in New Haven, were called to pass over the river
and enter the scenes beyond, one just before, and
the other just after, the summons came for her.
Mrs. Bishop died April 23d, and Hon. William
Fitch May loth.
From her sick-room she wrote to the husband
of the former, thus : " I have little strength, yet
I must say to you how constantly, deeply, I am
in sympathy with you. My dear beloved hus
band's dear and beloved friend is not here !
How can we live without her.? But it will not
be for long ; we shall closely follow. She is
blessed, satisfied. Let us be sure we are faithful
in our submission, loving in our confidence, obe
dient as children to the good and wise Father,

52
and we, too, shall be satisfied and blessed and
with herr Soon after, she wrote these lines to
her dear friend, Mrs. Fitch, sympathizing with,
and seeking to comfort the distress caused by the
alarming illness of her husband : '• As I have lain
upon my bed, oh, how my heart has ached, and
I could only commend you and him to our only
refuge and help in time of trouble, and, dear
friend, what a refuge that is ! It covers us all
over, and brings such repose when we are full of
pain and apprehension. We ^vill not despair,
however deep the waters into which we are
plunged." The last message from her own hand, writ
ten April 26th, was to the same friend, a word
of hopefulness: "I trust the blessed hand has
been laid upon your husband, and he will ' rise
up and walk,' rejoicing in the Father's love and
care." The divine touch was indeed laid upon him,
but the word of blessing for him was this, " En
ter into the joy of thy Lord."
It was not many days before the friends of
years were together "rejoicing in the Father's
love and care," with exulting song, in his im
mediate presence.

XL
"\^7"E have been told how peaceful was Mrs.
Larned's going home. On the 5th of
May, 1877, she breathed her last blessing and
farewell. Besides her family, she was attended through
out her illness by two devoted friends, who min
istered to her wants, and remained after her
decease to carry out all her wishes in regard to
her household effects. She expressed her grati
tude to them again and again, feeling that Prov
idence had been most kind in relieving both
herself and her friends from all anxiety lest her
systematic benevolence would not be sustained,
or her wishes fully met in the breaking up of her
orderly house. She did emphatically, and in
the true sense, commit her way unto the Lord,
and He brought it to pass.
The services at her burial were conducted by
Dr. Woolsey and President Porter, her loved
and honored friends, and were held, as was fit
ting, in the Battell Chapel, named for her
brother, Mr. Joseph Battel), who was the chief
contributor to its erection.

54
President Porter, in his most appreciative ad
dress, alluding to her having been brought to
lie for an hour within those walls in the serene
dignity of death, expressed the thought that
thereafter the chapel would seem to have re
ceived a double consecration. ,
The music, conducted by Dr. Stoeckel and a
full choir of students, who had known and es
teemed Mrs. Earned, and gratefully remembered
her kindness and interest, was most delightful
and uplifting.
The impressions made upon one who came
from a distance, to be present at these last ser
vices, were thus told : " It seemed all love to me,
that day surrounding her ; striving to express it
self in every way; or, rather, expressing itself
without the striving. The first strain that
reached me as I entered the chapel, ' Forever
with the Lord,' seemed to bear me up where she
was, with Him ; and then the tender words of
remembrance, and the child-like prayer of faith
and love from friends that were dear to her, and
the heavenly look of peace on her face, all being
my first association with her going, have left a
most precious and comforting memory in my
heart."

55
And thus we gave her up to God till the glo
rious resurrection morning.

XIL
letter from MR. W. S. GILMAN.
' I ''HE Master has called for Irene, and the
event opens anew fountains of regard
and affection which impel me to offer my sincere
condolence with the living for their loss in the
departure of the dead.
" Beneath the current of outward life which, in
the progress of families, causes so wide a diver
gence as exists in the descendants of Sarah and
Hannah Robbins, there still exists that friend
ship and love — those memories of earlier years
— which prompt me to meet you in spirit over
the grave of the departed. Gladly would I learn
something of the last days and months of my
dear cousin, but I feel well assured that if the
mind was not beclouded in consequence of suf
fering and- disease, they were days of holy calm
and sweet communion.
" How narrow are our views in early life, when
God sets the world in our hearts for wise pur-

56
poses, and what a change after He has broken
one and another of our dependencies from us in
the exercise of his tender compassion ! That
closing event which Irene has met before us and
which we dreaded, seems now, as it will prove to
be, only the withdrawal of that veil which sepa
rates us from our bosom's guest.
" I think we can see, late in life, excellent rea
sons why immortal spirits like ourselves should
pass through the very various experiences we
have in this world, in. order to be prepared for
the ages to come, when God will show the ex
ceeding riches of his kindness toward us,
through Christ Jesus.
" What a comfort in trial there is in remember
ing that our lessons are not learned by intuition,
but by following Him in trial, who Himself was
made perfect through suffering. And what a
glorious opening there will be for an active ser
vice in the next world, in consequence of our
rich experiences in this ; for we cannot suppose
that having gained our knowledge by the disci
pline of adversity, we are to find no place for its
fruitful exercise on high.
"Wherefore, Hft up the hands that sorrow
would cause to hang down, be of good courage

57
and He shall strengthen your heart, all ye that
hope in the Lord. May the Divine blessing at
tend you."
Another devoted friend thus writes : . . . .
" Her death I cannot yet realize. She has ever
stood so near to me in friendship that it seems
as if I could yet reach out and find her if need
be. The influence of her radiant character I
would not lose out of my -experience for the
worid."

XIII.
"\ /"ERY little has been said, directly, of Mrs.
Larned's religious character ; nor is it neces
sary. As the stream reveals the nature and
affluence of the fountain from which it flows,
so did her life, by the blessing it diffused all
along its heavenly course, convincingly prove
that the source of such rich supplies of love
and grace and strength, was Divine.
There is, however, one phase of her religious
life that we wish specially to notice, and that is
what we should call its earnestness. Others
might call it soberness or solemnity.

58
It was, indeed, to her, a serious thing to live
and a serious thing to die. We never heard
from her those superficial words that fall so easily
from the lips of many as they assert their fear
lessness of the momentous event. Her custom
was, in her deep sincerity, to express — what
others often feel but may not as frankly admit —
her overwhelming sense of the solemnity of the
change from this present life to that which is un
seen and eternal. If she ever manifested anxiety
or apprehension in regard to her personal secu
rity in that trying hour, it was when the deep
humility of her nature affected the strength of
her faith.
For kindred reasons her religious experience
was never one of rapturous or ecstatic expression ;
but as a loving, dutiful, obedient child, in single
ness of heart she followed her Master, whom not
having seen she loved, believing that the reveal-'
ing hour would surely come when her eyes
should behold the King in his beauty, and she
should indeed " see Him as He is."
There may be those who regard such a life of
participation in others' sorrows and sufferings —
a burden-bearing life — as in a great measure a
joyless one. But they forget the deep and

59
blessed truth that lies beneath the words, " He
that loseth his life for my sake shall find it ; "
and that nothing is more unfailing than the law
which inseparably connects the purest joy the
human soul can know with service for Christ
and for others.
We would also commend the hidden wealth
of that sacred promise to the earnest search of
those who knew Mrs. Earned only in their earli
est years, when happiness to them would natur
ally be associated with merriment and care-free
lives, and who may, possibly, from her devoted
and in many ways anxious life, have received an
impression untrue to the real blessedness she
ever found in it.
"There are, in this loud stunning tide
Of human care and crime.
With whom the melodies abide ,
Of the everlasting chimes ;
Who carry music in their heart
Through dusky lane and wrangling mart,
Plying their daily task with busier feet,
Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat."

6o

XIV.

T N addition to the letters and the extracts that
-*- we have already introduced as having a spe
cial bearing upon points we were considering, we
now give others which will heartily confirm what
has been said, and also present Mrs. Larned's
life and character in some lights which have not
been specially noticed.
LETTER FROM REV. JOSEPH EMERSON,
Professor in Beloit College.
" I am glad of the opportunity you give me to
share your sorrow and your thanksgiving for so
sweet and so beautiful a life made immortal.
What a lovely and alluring light it leaves, always
to rest over the horizon for you, and even for us
all as we go on towards the sunset.
" What a happy family circle yours has been !
How rich each in each other one ; and how the
sympathies of childhood have ripened into those
of adult life, and for those of the life eternal.
" It was my privilege to meet your sister when
I was last at the East, and hardly anything in all
my recollection has charmed me more than the
tone of love and appreciation with which she

6i
then spoke of her brother Robbins. I have no
doubt that she would have spoken in like tone of
each other member of the family. It was one of
those native notes which reveal the music that is
in the soul, and the key-note of that wonderful
charm and harmony of beauty in person, manner,
voice, thought, taste, feeling, life, which has been
with us and has passed into heaven.
" It has been a blessed thing for you all to live
in such a love, and each to contribute to the
blessedness and the perfectness of such a soul.
It has been a life which has made the world
brighter and sweeter, as it has passed through it,
and which leaves the world more pure, more
true, more loving than it found it."
LETTER FROM MISS F. L. APTHORP.
" In your sorrow for the death of your sister I
not only feel sympathy, but take my own share,
as having lost a loved and valued friend, a sense
of whose loveliness and helpful affection was
with me all the same whether we met or were
long parted. Indeed, we never met frequently.
Her outward life was apart from mine in its ac
tivities and relations, which were even little

62
known to me. A union in these, generally so
necessary to close friendship, was not necessary
with her ; for her heart was so open of access, so
trustful, and powerful to win trust, that one, in
knowing her, was at once her friend and admitted
to a place of familiar intercourse.
" Yet with all this kindliness her judgment and
taste marked distinctions in character and con
geniality; and accordingto these her heart made
its selections. But she had the gift to charm
into familiar relations by her own gracious and
free spirit. As to myself I cannot remember
when or how we passed from acquaintanceship
into friendship. I first met your sister when she
came to make her home in New Haven, after
her marriage. I wish I had known her in her
beautiful and most attractive girlhood, of which
the fame was wide-spread in our early days.
When I saw her first the youthful bloom, fresh
ness, and gayety were fled ; but changed rather
than lost, — dimmed less by time than by the
great sorrow of her father's death, whose shadow
never quite passed from her life.
" Still, at that time she retained a large share
of personal beauty; especially the beauty of
her eyes, remarkable in form, color, and trans-

63
parent clearness, and most, for a peculiar appeal
ing tenderness of expression that I think must
have been an ' open sesame ' to the closest heart.
This beauty, the gift and out-look of her soul,
was hers to the last.
" So also she kept always her power to win
hearts ; but she was unconscious of this, as of
self in every way. Never could one detect in
her the least shadow of vanity or of selfishness,
even under its subtlest disguises. I never knew a
purer or simpler soul, nor one so completely
emptied of self ' Never seeking her own,' al
ways busy in deeds of helpfulness and self sacri
fice, she ' did his will and knew it not'
" With all this gentleness and sweetness, too
diffident of her own opinions and judgment, ap
preciating herself too little, and often leaning
on others and following their guidance in mak
ing her decisions, Mrs. Earned held with firm
strength her principles of right, and lived by
them unswervingly. She was strong to do what
ever duty and to bear whatever trial was sent to
her. " A friend of hers and mine, Mrs. Howland,
says, in writing of her : ' It seems strange that one
so very gentle and retiring should have made the

64
impression of a strong character. Carlyle's fe
licitous epithet, in the obituary of his wife, " soft
invincibility,' may be well applied to her.' How
strongly she showed this quality in ministering
in the most painful straits of sickness and death,
or sorrow, or need ; and by the resolute fortitude
with which she passed through those terrible
griefs that we thought must overwhelm her.
" I have drawn in weak lines the picture of
your sister that is in my heart. It is an inade
quate expression of what I felt for her while she
lived, and feel for her loss from the narrowing
circle of my most valued friendships."
XV.
LETTER FROM PROFESSOR CHARLES UPHAM
SHEPARD.
" T AM much honored by your request to con-
tribute a few reminiscences of your sister,
my very dear friend, the late Mrs. Lamed. It is
rather more than forty years ago that I first met
her at her home in Norfolk, Connecticut. The
poet Percival and myself being then on the geo
logical survey of the State, passed one Sunday
evening with your family, the most of the time

65
being occupied with what may not inaptly be
called a private oratorio of sacred music. The
recollection of that entertainment will never fade
from my memory. The contrast it afforded to
our dry and stony labor among the hills of Nor
folk made it all the more delightful ; and the oc
casion was a frequent after-theme of conversation
during our travels over that region. Your sister
had attained the full command of her admirable
voice and was radiant with personal charms. I
have since heard many female singers in different
lands, and can only compare the effect then pro
duced to that experienced when listening to
Jenny Lind in Handel's Oratorio of the Messiah.
The two enchantresses in melody will ever be
associated in my mind. If the Swedish song
stress surpassed Miss Battell in vocal power, the
latter was more than her equal in beauty. Little
did I ever dream at this casual meeting that she
was one day to become the wife of my most inti
mate friend. Professor Earned, and that our joint
lives were to be passed in so close and prolonged
intimacy. " Mrs. Earned naturally became the centre of
unusual attraction on being transferred to this
city. Without the smallest apparent effort on

66
her part, all hearts seemed drawn spontaneously
toward her. Her unvarying kindness, her inter
est in others and forgetfulness of herself united
to an unaffected simplicity of manner, caused her
society to be deeply prized. She possessed a
strong, well-poised, practical, and highly informed
mind. Indeed, her character may be summed up
as a perfect embodiment of New England female
excellence. " She will long be remembered in Nevir Haven,
for the noble charities to which she gave the
energies of her life, for her sympathy with those
in distress, for her aid to the poor and suffering,
not less than for her magnificent gifts for the pro
motion of higher education. Her memory will
be cherished, likewise, on account of efforts to
elevate the standard of sacred music, her favorite
pursuit. She shared very conspicuously in all
the measures in this direction which have so
deeply and so successfully enlisted popular regard
during the last thirty years. The charm of her
own rich voice, together with her volunteer ser
vices at the organ, contributed to this end in a
very decisive manner. Those who were privi
leged from Sunday to' Sunday to listen to these,
will not soon forget their obligation to her. Her

67
voice, though mingled with those of the con
gregation, could no more escape, detection than
the golden threads in some rich vestment- Es
pecially in the closing hymn (if it chanced to
possess poetic merit) was it noticeable, that she
poured her whole soul into the words, carrying
all hearts heavenward in the delicious strain.
" It falls to the lot of only a very few to win and
hold so many hearts. She attracted and charmed
by her loveliness, she cheered and elevated by her
music, she blessed by her sympathy and by her
charity; and now that she has passed forever
below the horizon of this brief life, it is the rich
consolation of all who knew her, that she has
entered the blissful realm, where more enraptur
ing melodies and more beneficent activities wait
upon the perfected nature."

XVI.
LETTER FROM PROFESSOR GEORGE P. FISHER-
I SHOULD say that the peculiarity of Mrs.
Earned was the mingling of an exquisite taste
and a relish for the beautiful, with the sohd, home
bred quahties which belong to our New England

68
life and training. These last were the ground
work of her nature. A reverent love of the Bible ;
a sober, quiet observance of the Lord's day ; pleas
ure in the public services of religion, accompanied
by a certain respect for its ministers as clothed
with a sacred office ; a dislike of ostentation in
living and wasteful expenditure ; an inward con
demnation, not harsh, but deep, of all departures
from rectitude ; a sense of accountableness to
God for the use of time, and property, and in
fluence ; a very high appreciation of the value of
education as having to do with the immortal part
of our being — these traits and habits all who
knew Mrs. Earned must have noticed in her. It
was a character which rested upon convictions of
truth, and was shaped by a conscious regard to
the will of God as expressed in his Word. But
this was not all of Mrs. Earned. There mingled
with these sterling qualities, which her New Eng
land ancestry and the circumstances of her life
naturally developed, an aesthetic nature which
imparted a rare grace and refinement to the ex
pressions of her mind, and, it might be said, to
her life. With regard to things exterior, she had
her ideals of perfection which it gave her great
satisfaction to see realized. She took delight in

69
personal beauty, — beauty of form and feature.
She had too much goodness to shrink from con
tact with that which is deformed and sickly, where
she could bring a blessing : esthetic feeling never
acted to chill her benevolence. At the same
time, beauty — which all who knew her in her
youth remember that she possessed herself in an
uncommon degree — was to her a joy. The
general quality of which I am speaking, with re
spect to music, blossomed into a genuine artistic
talent. Her natural power in this direction was
quickened and enhanced by careful, assiduous
culture. Yet in the use of this remarkable gift
her character was manifest. She was anxious to
diffuse the enjoyment and benefit which she de
rived from music as widely as possible. She did
not dream of making her taste and attainments
in this art a source of luxurious enjoyment to
herself or to a cultivated coterie with which it
might be shared. Her aim was to elevate the
general standard of judgment and performance
in music, and to inspire the community with a
better appreciation of what is truly excellent in
this department. ^ This was one of the ends to
which she was devoted. In the pursuit of it,
how freely did she expend her time and means !

70
Moreover, it was her highest aim, with reference
to musical culture, to make it subservient to wor
ship, and to enable Christian people to draw
from it a purer and higher inspiration. It may
be said with truth that all she did in this prov
ince of her activity was done in the name of
Christ. " Mrs. Earned was fond of literature. The
good custom of reading aloud prevailed in her
family. Professor Earned, in hours of leisure,
read in this way poems, novels, biogfaphies, or
books accounted more solid. Mrs. Earned was
young at a time when the romances of Scott
were read with most enthusiasm. One of the
wholesome effects of these tales, I may say, was
their effect upon the mannefs of those who read
them with ardent sympathy. Something of the
courtesy which appears so often in the descrip
tions of feudal society was caught, with the mod
ifications proper to our altered tirhe, by those who
hung over the pages of Scott. Occasionally one
of these stories would be taken up again at Mrs.
Larned's, and then the names of his characters —
Sir Dugald Dalgetty, for example — would be
come, for a while, household words. And here I
may say that, with a quick eye for the humorous

side of life, and with nothing austere or sombre in
her ways, she was remarkably free in her conver
sation from censorious criticism. If she touched
upon the foibles or eccentricities of others, her
kindly smile showed plainly the spirit in which
it was done.
" Mrs. Earned had a peculiarly strong interest
in persons. Her esteem for members of her own
family was intense : apart from her strong affec
tion for them as kinsmen, she seemed to value
them, independently of this relation. She deemed
no painstaking too great in the promotion of
the culture of one of her younger relatives. She
took a personal, almost absorbing interest, in in
dividuals who needed her sympathy, or shared in
her beneficence. If they were ill, or lonely, how
untiring was she in her visits to them, and in her
efforts for their relief and comfort! ' Inasmuch
as ye have done it to the least of these, ye have
done it unto me ' — these words she must surely
have heard from the lips of the Lord !
" Mrs. Larned's interest was far from being con
fined to individuals who had special appeals to
make to her benevolent care. Especially did she
spare no effort that she could make in behalf of
colored people. She seemed to regard this part

72
of the community as somehow committed to her
charge. To their families she gave her counsels
and pecuniary aid. She befriended them in sick
ness. She exerted herself to find useful employ
ment for them. For the sick, to whatever class
in society they might belong, she felt an extraor
dinary sympathy. Although; for a long period,
she lacked physical strength herself there seemed
to be a fascination for her in a sick-bed ; and
thither she would fly on""the first information
that neighbor or friend was afflicted with illness.
The. Hospital was one of the institutions which
most engaged her sympathy, and enjoyed her
practical aid. It was not simply pecuniary ben
efactions. She went among the patients, at
tended worship with them, spoke words of com
fort to them, and prompted others to do the same.
" For many years Mrs. Earned was really an
invalid. But her abstinence from all complaint,
her cheerful ways, and her constant willingness
to go beyond her strength in ministering to the
pleasure of her friends, probably prevented most
of her associates from perceiving the amount of
suffering which she endured. She will be ever
remembered by those who shared in her friend
ship as a lady of refined and accomplished man-

73
ners, and of cultivated and disciplined Christian
character, who, like her Divine Master, to whom
she looked with a timid trust, ' went about do
ing good.' As in the case of most excellent
women, her life was one to be felt rather than
analyzed. There was a spirit that informed the
whole which finds no full equivalent in any rec
ord of her deeds."

XVII.
LETTER FROM DR. GUSTAVE J- STOECKEL,
Professor of Music in Yale College.
T CAME to New Haven March i6, 1848, with
-*- letters of introduction to many of the leading
families, and among my letters was one directed
to Mrs. Wm. A. Lamed.
" I was sick in mind and body, depressed in
consequence of my poor health, and, although
possessing a good book knowledge of English,
was hardly able to stammer out a few broken
sentences. This state of mind and body made
me timid, distrustful, and entirely unfit for estab
lishing myself in my profession among strange
people in a strange land. Oppressed with such

74
feelings I went to the Tontine, where Professor
Earned and his lady boarded. Never shall I for
get this call. I came away- another man. By
her kindness Mrs. Earned inspired me with hope,
and by her assurance of help and support I
gained confidence in myself and hope of success in
my profession. I went in to call upon a stranger
and came out leaving a friend. Ah, a friend, —
not for a few days or weeks or years, nay, — for
a lifetime. I felt that I had gai-ned the sympathy,
the helping hand, the support of a lady, who was
prominent in society — both socially and music
ally — in a city, where the first of American col
leges dispensed its benefits, and where learning
and refinement were the natural result of the
culture which science and art received.
" I relate my reception by Mrs. Earned on the
occasion of my first visit, because it reveals one
of the many beautiful traits of her character.
What she did for me she was willing and desir
ous to do for every one. It is true that only to
a few she retained her friendship (when acquired
as above) to the end of her life. But those few
know that she never deserted one she found true,
firm, and faithful and honest, even when differ
ing most radically with her conceptions of art.

75
Indeed one of the most remarkable features of
Mrs. Larned's remarkable character was the lib
erality, with which she would listen to opinions
entirely antagonistic to her own views of morals
and religion, of science and art. She would allow
the good points of an opponent's argument, and
credit him with all that in her opinion was cred
itable, but at the same time she would quietly ad
here to her own conclusions, which it must be
admitted proved not seldom to be the correct
ones. " Her musical ability and education, based upon
such traits of character as hinted at above, and
supported by the deep religious sentiment — the
blessed inheritance from her ancestors — could
not but exercise the most beneficial influence
upon the cultivation of music both in the city
and college.
" Already, in 1847, a society under the name of
' The New Haven County Musical Association,'
was founded principally by her exertions. Its
first concert was given on Easter Monday, April
27, 1848. Mrs. Earned, who was unrivaled as
a soprano singer, took all the leading soprano
solos, assisted in drilling soloists and chorus,
and exerted her talent, energy, and influence in
favor of that organization.

76-
" This society was succeeded by the ' Mendel
ssohn Society of New Haven,' the natural out
growth of the New Haven County Musical As
sociation. Both were under the guidance of our
dear departed friend. She was the leading
spirit, advising and cheering onward her co-la
borers, assisting the weak and encouraging the
timid and hesitating. The public of New Haven
have to thank the energy, the endurance, and,
above all, the sound musical conceptions of Mrs.
Earned for the successful performances of the
Oratorios of Handel, Haydn, and Mendelssohn.
With what pleasure and zest she enjoyed the
labor of getting up these concerts may be
gleaned from a remark she made after a very
successful rendering of Mendelssohn's ' Elijah.'
' Such a concert,' said she, ' is a grand sermon,
preached to eager and willing listeners ; its ¦ re
sults are not of to-day or to-morrow, but lasting
forever, especially to those who participate as
active members of the society.' Never was
there uttered a truth which is more unassailable
than that contained in the above sentiment.
" Not only in New Haven was Mrs. Earned the
ever ready assistant in musical enterprises, but
also elsewhere. In the winter of 1 848-1 849 she

assisted the Litchfield County Musical Associa
tion at their annual concert, and at different pe
riods and occasions musicians from the neigh
boring cities never applied in vain to her for
help. " The sanctuary and the services on the Lord's
day would find her always ready to respond when
called upon for assistance. For a long time she
volunteered her services to one of the Congrega
tional churches in New Haven, where her high
social standing, her quiet, but firm and resolved
behavior, and, above all, her unquestioned musical
superiority, had such an influence upon the choir
as to change it from one of the poorest to the
very best one, both as to music and morals.
Wherever and whenever the service of God
needed her help there she would be found. His
praise she would chant at any time, his call obey
to any place. Every chorister, when in trouble,
found her willing to assist. When an organ was
without an organist she would supply his place,
and the musical part of the Divine service at the
Hospital was entirely in her charge until within
the few last weeks of her life.
" Such was Mrs. Larned's work for music in the
city. The musical benefits bestowed by her upon

78
Yale College are even more lasting and substan
tial. On July 31, 1862, Mrs. Earned added to the
musical fund, — established by her brother, Mr.
Joseph Battell, on April 29, 1854, — a donation
equal to the original one,^ ' for the support, as
far as it may go, of a teacher of the science of
music to such students as may avail themselves
of the opportunity of study in that science, to be
applied in extension of the services and duties
performed under Mr. Battell's donation.'
" Mrs. Earned felt very much the disadvantage
under which the beloved art, of which she was so
faithful a disciple, labored, without an authorized
head of instruction, and although other colleges
have since gone far ahead of Yale College in
promoting musical instruction, yet Yale College,
through the endowment of Mrs. Earned, can
proudly claim the privilege of having been the
first of American colleges, which took music un
der its fostering wings.
" Yes, music in Yale College lost its best friend
in Mrs. Earned. She not only established the
musical instructorship, but also endowed the
musical library, which already contains many of
the most valuable scores of the master ; she gave
1 Mr. Battell's donation, $S,oo° i Mrs. Larned's donation, $5,000.

79
the largest share to the magnificent organ in the
Battell Chapel, and assisted in a good many en-;
terp rises of which the musical benefit is reaped
by the college. Her injunction that outside of
the few friends, with whom she consulted, none
should know, forbids enlarging upon it.
"But although but few knew it, all felt it.
When on May 8, 1877, the funeral exercises
were held in the Battell Chapel over the remains
of Mrs. Earned, professors and students, in ren
dering their last sad tribute to the memory of
the departed one, were aware that it was to their
Alma Mater's sweet patroness of the sweetest of
arts. Every member of the choir was in his
seat; graduates of 1852, 1870, and 1871 assisted in
the exercises, which were in the following order: —
I. Funeral March (Organ). Chopin.
2. " Forever with the Lord." (Choir.)
3. Prayer by Ex-president Woolsey.
4. Hymn. " It is not death to die." (Tune : Gorton.)
5. Remarks by President Porter.
6. Hymn. " There is a land of pure delight." (Tune :
St. Agnes.)
7. Funeral March (Organ). Beethoven.
" Though her body will be dust, her spirit has
gone to eternal heights. Joining with cheru-

8o
bim and seraphim in hymning immortal songs to
the Lord Omnipotent is her sacred privilege
now. That which was the breath and longing
of her life while on earth is now a blessed reality
in her home in heaven."

XVIII.
LETTER FROM PROFESSOR THOMAS A. THACHER.
" A/r ^ personal acquaintance with Mrs. Earned
-*¦ began after she came to New Haven to
live, but I had long before been familiar with
her name. For the- last thirty years she has
been a dear and esteemed friend ; and her final
departure from the life which she so beautifully
adorned in this community and which, so far as
years and active intelligence and sympathy were
concerned, was still in its prime, has wrought a
great change with us. But she passed away as
gently and as gracefully as she lived. As her
life had no rudeness in it, so she seemed, as far
as she could, to endeavor to spare her friends
any shock at her departure. She would pass
into the gradually deepening shadows without
raising any alarm to startle them. For herself
she felt no alarm.

8i

" As I attempt to recall her chief traits of char
acter I shall, perhaps, surprise you by first men
tioning a certain natural dignity. This quality
was not assumed, nor studied, nor cold, nor in
any degree repellent, but perfectly natural, char
acterizing invariably all her life. If she had
seemed to cultivate it or even to have been con
scious of it, it would, in some measure certainly,
have lost its significance and beauty, and would
have marred the attractiveness of her character.
But really that which was in any way undignified
seemed to be out of harmony with her nature,
Thus, although she had no disposition to reprove
by word or look the innocent fun and frolic
and jest and practical jokes of others, it is diffi
cult for me to conceive of her as taking the lead
in such things, even in her youth. She sympa
thized with the gayety of others, and had a keen
relish for wit and humor. She enjoyed life and
animated others with a spirit of cheerfulness, but
even a superficial observer would soon discover
that in her soul she had a sobering, yet not sad
dening sense of the seriousness of living. Such
she always seemed to me.
" The quality which I should next mention is a
delicate, ever-present grace. I do not mean grace

82

of person especially, although in this she was
almost unequaled, but a more comprehensive
quality, affecting all her ways of expressing her
self her thoughts, her feelings, her countenance.
With what delicacy she approached the sorrow
ing, not even offering her sympathy without
great reserve, letting her presence and her quiet
look rather than her words disclose her feeling.
So far as the manifestation of her kindness was
concerned, it made little difference with her in
what grade of society she met with those to
whose daily life she could add any brightness or
comfort. Her nearest and dearest friends were
no more sure of sympathy and service than the
poorest sufferers, if they were brought to her no
tice, and she was as careful of the feelings of the
latter as of the former, whenever the opportunity
was presented of doing them any good. There
was the same delicate, and I may say, elegant
grace in her treatment of them all. Dignity and
grace were, as it seems to me, the chief character
istics of her life.
" I have already implied that she was distin
guished also for the breadth of her sympathies.
She knew that high position and learning and
wealth do not always ensure the peace of the

83
soul or satisfy its deepest longings. She was
for years, and even to the end of their life, an
almost indispensable blessing to many persons
who had an abundance of this world's blessings,
cheering and sustaining their life to its close by
her thoughtful sympathy. And among the living
are there not those who in losing the manifesta
tion of her mindful love, feel that they have lost
a much greater treasure than they had before
been conscious of possessing .? This beautiful
habit of her heart came rather from instinct than
from purpose. She found delight in it. When,
by accident or otherwise, she found one whose
heart she could cheer or whose life she could
bless, her nature did not let her go till she had
bestowed a blessing on the one who needed it.
Nor was this kindness damaged by any weak
ness or maudlin sensibility on her part.
" The poor and the dependent were not slow to
discover such a friend. Her house almost be
came an intelligence office for those who wanted
employment for their friends or their children or
themselves. Those also who wanted counsel in
the management of their poverty, or in the
bringing forward of children of unusual promise,
came without fear of repulse to her, and she

84
turned none coldly away. The presentation of a
case which had any merit in it inevitably awoke
her interest, and she did what she could. What
a multitude of individuals have thus experienced
her kindness. And she was no less helpful of
organized charity. She stood by the great
Christian charities of the day with generous aid,
and with lively interest in their plans and
achievements, and every local institution which
had a beneficent object found in her a friend.
Witness her devotion to the hospital in this city
and her actual labor for its best success, — labor,
which, as many can testify, was not confined to
the healing of the body. There are multitudes
who respond in their hearts to the appeals of
charity, and multitudes who open their purses to
' these appeals. She responded also by her activi
ties. And beyond the ordinary range of charity
she showed herself the unambitious friend of
whatsoever things tended to human cultivation.
Any even humble promise of success in music,
for instance, or in painting, which was brought
to her notice, was likely to receive encourage
ment from her.
" But the culmination of her interest was in
those things' which subserve religious prosperity,

85
either public or personal. She believed in old-
fashioned goodness, and in the spread of those
principles from which such goodness springs.
She was most earnestly desirous that Yale Col
lege should prosper, but these desires sprang
from the belief that the college was to have a
growing religious influence in the world. The
last spontaneous sentence which I heard her
utter was the ' wish that the college might be
consecrated to God.'
" I need not tell what I knew of her devotion to
her nearest kindred, — her brothers, the living
and the dead, her sisters, and all those in the
younger generation who looked to her both as
a counselor and a model. With what tender
ness she cherished, even to the end, the memory
of her deceased husband. Pleasant as were the
recollections of his life and character, the bitter
woe of the sudden calamity which befell her at
his death never passed entirely out of her life.
Her love to the little boy who at her request
received her husband's name, had an especial
beauty in it, because it seemed to blend the
tender memories of a precious life that was
closed, with sweet hopes and wishes for one
who was enjoying the glad activities of boyhood.

86
but still only at the beginning of the race of
life. " I fear I have already written too much. But
I would like to refer to seven short verses, which
I think must often have awoke your sister's aspi
rations, and to ask each one who may read your
memorial to consider whether all the blessing
named in them may not have fallen on Mrs.
Earned. " ' Blessed are the poor in spirit : for theirs is
the kingdom of heaven.'
" ' Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall
be comforted.'
" ' Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit
the earth.'
" ' Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst
after righteousness : for they shall be filled.'
" ' Blessed are the merciful : for they shall ob
tain mercy.'
" ' Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall
see God.'
" ' Blessed are the peacemakers : for they shall
be called the children of God.' "

87

XIX.
LETTER FROM PRESIDENT N. PORTER.
" T SAW Mrs. Earned for th-e first time some
-*¦ two years after her marriage. When I re
moved to New Haven in 1847 I was brought at
once into somewhat peculiar relations of confi
dence with her in consequence of my warm
friendship from childhood with my cousin Hon.
James Humphrey, who married her sister next
younger. This confidence naturally led to more
frequent intercourse after the death of Professor
Lamed, when she was in need of friendly sym
pathy. " I shall never forget how, amid the appalling
anguish of the first few hours which followed the
death of her husband, she seemed filled with rev
erent and almost sublime awe at the presence
and will of the living God as manifested to her
self in this sudden stroke. As she gradually ral
lied from the first shock she was chiefly occupied
for months and even for years in devising and
providing every possible memorial to his mem
ory. I had full opportunity to know how com
pletely she was engrossed with these offices of

88

faithful love, and how great was her satisfaction
in the necessary thoughts and acts. She gath
ered his scattered library around herself in such
order as she thought would please him were he
still at home. The little room adjoining her par
lor was made her own reading and writing place,
while it was completely filled with suggestions
of his person and habits of life. She bestowed
unceasing pains that his portraits and busts
might be satisfactory. The place of his burial
was fitted and cared for as to her the dearest spot
on earth, and her interest in it never relaxed.
" On the review of my acquaintance with her,
the one trait of her character which seems most
conspicuous is loyalty to God and to her friends.
" Her loyalty to God was manifested in an un
mistakable spirit of reverence, submission, and
trust ; in a marked punctilious respect for the
services and institutions of the church ; in her
public spirit and zeal for the progress of religion,
and her jealous sensitiveness of any manifesta
tion of profanity, indecorum, heartlessness, or un
belief She delighted in public worship because
it expressed and gave honor to God. She stood
fast in the old Puritan doctrines and ways as con
trasted with what she thought was modern lax-

89
ness and indifference, but without the least bitter
ness or passion. She delighted in sacred music
not merely because she had been trained to un
derstand and enjoy it, but because the chorus, the
organ, and the orchestra seemed to her to express
most fittingly that praise and homage which she
felt and desired and rejoiced to utter.
" Her loyalty to friends was shown first and
foremost in her faithful and tenacious, her minute
and affectionate interest in all the . members of
her own family circle, even to its remotest rami
fications. The reverential and daughterly pride
with which she gloried in her father, the devoted
yet familiar fondness with which she cherished
her mother, the honest fidelity yet loving defer
ence with which she honored her oldest brother,
the constancy with which she visited another
brother in the fond persuasion that perhaps each
visit might bring to him a ray of sunshine, the
tender devotion which she lavished upon her
sisters, the motherly care which took in and held
fast to all the members of the large and diversi
fied family, following each and all with prayers
and counsel and sympathy, illustrated her loyalty
to her kindred.
" But her affectionate allegiance was by no

90
means limited to her kindred. She gave it to
scores of friends upon whom she bestowed love
and counsel in liberal measure. Those whom
she had loved in her youth she never forgot.
Yet it was characteristic of her to make new
friends to the latest years of her life, and to
cleave to every friend whom she had ever made.
It would not be difficult to measure the progress
of her New Haven life by the successive friends
to whom she became attached, to every one of
whom she was faithful as long as they lived, and
of many of whom she cherished some memorial
after they were dead. Her parlors and other
apartments were filled on every hand with testi
monials to the sincerity, of this affectionate regard
for all who belonged to her treasured circle.
" The loyalty of her affection was illustrated in
the singular sensitiveness which she manifested
with respect to those whom she feared might be
in danger of neglect or forgetfulness, or whose
service or worth she imagined were not ade
quately appreciated. Nothing delighted her so
much as to save or soothe their wounded feel
ings, ,or to surprise them by some unexpected
act of deference or honor. To her aged friends
she especially delighted to minister.
" Mrs. Earned was emphatically loyal also to

91
her kind. The number of dependents among
the unfortunate and suffering whose cares and
sorrows she made her own could not easily be
computed, and the readiness with which she wel
comed to her sympathy new claimants it would
not be easy to over-measure. Her zealous and
laborious interest in the people of color, and her
early devotion to the hospital when it had fewer
friends than of late, her constant and increasing
interest in it until her death, the personal inter
course which she maintained with its managers
and its inmates, and the singular pertinacity with
which she assisted in its Sunday worship in ex
treme weakness, were all manifestations of her
true-hearted and Christ-like loyalty to her kind.
She shared very largely in that " enthusiasm for
humanity " which was so prominently taught and
exemplified by the Master.
" The one object, however, which, in the later
years of her life, seemed to absorb most com
pletely her loyal affection, was Yale College. To
this institution her husband had been zealously
devoted. All the associations of her married life
were connected with its doings, its exposures, and
its prospects. It was identified with her dearest
earthly friendships, with the history of many

92
whom she had most intimately known, with the
well-being of the human race, with the assertion
and defense bf Christian truth, with the prosper
ity of the church and the honor of God ; and
therefore she devoted herself to its interests with
the whole strength and tenacity of her being.
To those of its officers who had ceased to be ac
tive in its service, — to Knight, and Fitch, and
Day, and Woolsey, — she rendered a most de
voted and affectionate reverence ; to its active offi-
cers and its students she was always true. It was
owing greatly to her influence that her brother
became so largely its benefactor. In her life she
gave to it her fostering care, her jealous affec
tion, and her valuable gifts. In her death, she
remembered it most liberally, and almost literally
closed her days with a prayer of blessing for its
Christian consecration.
It would be unjust to her memory to fail to
notice that in all these forms of faithful love and
of untiring activity she manifested an unusual
strength of character. At times she might seem
undecided and timid and self distrustful, but in
the tenacity with which she adhered to the great
aims and the special plans of her life, in her af
fections, and even in her prejudices, she displayed

93
an uncommon force and persistence of will. Her
strength of purpose was so manifestly rooted in
conscience and inspired by communion with God
as not to abate in the least from the sweetness of
her character. While in respect to many things
she was compliant and yielding, yet in regard
to certain objects of her life and methods of
achieving them, she took counsel only of herself
She believed that she had her own mission, and
she endeavored to fulfill it conscientiously and
perseveringly, and she was successful.
" It should not be forgotten that Mrs. Earned
was a suffering invalid during all her New Ha
ven life. Her temperament, though sweet, was
grave, and many severe strains upon her nervous
system from her sorrows doubtless«made her spir
its less jubilant than in her youth, and even hin
dered her religious trust from breaking out into
the form of joy. To a soul depressed by physical
weakness, and expending all its energy in self-
sacrifice, there could be little strength for joyous
emotion of any kind. Submission, reverence,
conscientious obedience, active service, were the
forms of Christian life most congenial to her
chastened spirit. Had she been less conscien
tious and humble she might have been more
hopeful and joyous.

94
" If her younger friends thought her grave,
they did not know how constant and severe were
the visitations of weakness and pain, and how
almost morbid her tender sympathy often be
came for the many whose sorrows she made her
own. " None but her nearest relatives knew how great
her sufferings were, or how fitted they were to
exhaust her patience, and to centre her thoughts
and feelings upon herself Very few of her
friends could know how much she struggled
with in all these years. But all could observe
that her unselfishness became more conspicuous,
and that the weary years of suff"ering, of which
she rarely spoke and never complained, were
filling her soul more completely with the peace
of God which passeth understanding.
" Those friends who knew her best could best
appreciate how welcome to her weary spirit must
have been the rest which is reserved for the peo
ple of God. They can best imagine how intense
and pure was her first song of praise to that
Redeemer in whose footsteps she was so careful
to walk, till they brought her to the mansion
which He had provided for her in. his Father's
house."

95

XX.
OOON after Professor Larned's death Mrs.
Earned had inscribed upon his monument
the text, " With Christ, which is far better." It
was one that might almost be said to have glori
fied his last days. He dwelt upon it constantly ;
not only in private conversation, but in the
familiar exercises of the prayer-meeting. He
lived in it.
It was naturally very precious to Mrs. Earned,
and it now stands as a testimony to them both.
Both peacefully sleep beneath the blessed assur
ance. Suggested by this text, and these associations
with it, a friend has written the following lines
as her offering of love.
" With Christ, which is far better."
No stain of sin forever more
On their white robes, while they adore
The Lamb who their transgressions bore ;
They joy in God ! and o'er them rise
The shining arches of the skies.
Whereon no shadow ever lies.

96
No sun arises in that clime.
That knows nor cloud, nor night, nor time,
A sweet spring morning's endless prime ;
And God, their everlasting Light,
With his own smile makes heaven bright.
His servants serving with delight.
Oh blessed eyes ! that see his face ;
Oh blessed hearts ! through Jesus' grace
Brought to that holy, happy place !
Helen L. Brown.

JOSEPH BATTELL.

' I ^HE relationship between Mrs, Earned and
-*• her brother, Mr. Joseph Battell, was so pe
culiar in intimacy and affection during their
lives it has been thought that it would be pleas
ant to associate them in memory in this little
volume prepared particularly for their family.
The following brief sketch of Mr. Battell's life
and characteristics was written soon after his
death, by his valued friend. Rev. Dr. R. S.
Storrs. "Joseph Battell — born April 17, 1806, died
July 8, 1874 — was a man of whom some things
may now properly be said to which his habitual
and fastidious reserve would have forbidden any
reference during his life. In the business circles
with which he was associated during a long com
mercial life, he was constantly recognized as a

98
merchant of rare industry and sagacity, and of
the most scrupulous integrity, who had well de
served the signal success which he had reached.
But it may be doubted if even those who knew
him best as a business man were always aware of
tlie extent and variety of his intellectual attain
ments, of the accuracy of his knowledge on a wide
range of subjects, of his delicate and discrimin
ating literary taste. Born in Norfolk, Conn., in
1806, he was graduated at Middlebury College,
in Vermont, in 1823, at the age of seventeen years,
ranking second in a class of which Professor Co-
nant, the eminent Biblical scholar and critic, was
the valedictorian. He made himself master of
the French, German, and Spanish languages soon
after leaving college, at a time when the study
of the last two, especially, was rare in this coun
try, and he was through life a diligent and ap
preciative student of the best English literature.
Influenced, probably, by the example and wishes
of his father, he early engaged in business as a
merchant, finding a congenial associate in the
late Thomas Egleston, with whom his partner
ship continued in unbroken mutual confidence
and regard until the death of Mr. Egleston.

99
But his interest in literature never ceased, al
though with characteristic and scrupulous reserve
he allowed it to appear only to those most inti
mate with him. One who had been his minister
for years, did not learn, till near the end of them,
and then by chance, that when Mr. . Battell fol
lowed the reading of the Scripture, Sunday by
Sunday, it was with his- eye on the Greek of the
Septuagint, or of the New Testament, and not
on the English translation. Independent in his
judgments, rapid and positive in his decisions,
perhaps stiff in his prejudices, those who had
occasion to know him only in a general, external
way, w6uld possibly fail to be attracted by him.
But in moments of leisure, in seasons of relaxa
tion, among his friends, he was one of the pleas-
antest of all companions. Cheerful in temper,
courteous in demeanor, original in thought,
abundant in witty and humorous anecdote, he
added to the charm of every social circle in
which he was familiar. Shrewd in judgment,
energetic in expression, genial in feeling, the
force of his strong individuality gave zest and
piquancy to his conversation. As a presiding
officer, too, in meetings for deliberation, or for

lOO
the transaction of business, he was always distin
guished for the grace and dignity with which he
performed the duties of his office. Born of the
genuine Puritan stock, Mr. Battell was through
Hfe a firm believer in the evangelical doctrines in
which he had been trained, a careful and atten
tive attendant on public worship, a liberal sup
porter of religious institutions and charities. Be
sides large gifts to institutions of learning, like
Yale College, whose new chapel is to bear his
name, he aided liberally other objects of public
importance and privately contributed to the suc
cor of many who will long remember and greatly
miss his timely benefactions. Most of all, his
sisters and brothers — to whom, after their father's
death, he was the constant counselor and friend
— have had reason to trust him with all their
hearts, and will have reason to mourn his depar
ture from them while life continues. He died
after a brief illness, with a settled and tranquil
trust in God, an unreserved submission to his
will, and an earnest avowal of his sole reliance
upon the Lord Jesus Christ for that salvation for
which he hoped."
The names of Mr. Battell and of his sister,

lOI
Mrs. Lamed, are associated in sacred memory
upon the tablet in the Battell Chapel which
bears this inscription : —
In memoriam Josephi Battell, qui, die xvii Apr. A. D.
MDCCCvi natus, mortuus est viii Jul. A. D. mdccclxxiv,
Eum et reverenter coluisse Deum et alienis utilitatibus pen!-
tus studuisse semper sit documento haec asdes sacra.
Neque minus memoria est tenenda dilecta illius soror, Irene
Earned, Guilielmi August: Earned uxor, qua vitam
suam, suavissimis quasi morum harmoniis et fide plenam,
ad exitum perduxit die v Mail. A, D, mdccclxxvii, annos
nata lxv,

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