Letters of Lydia Maria Child, with a biographical introduction by John G. Whittier and an appendix by Wendell Phillips.

xxii I-NTRODUCT10N.: "The little house on the quiet by-road overlooked broad
green meadows. The pond behind it, where bloom the lilies
whose spotless purity may well symbolize her gentle spirit,
is a. sacred pool to her townsfolk. But perhaps the most
fitting similitude of her life in Wayland was the quiet flow of
the river, whose gentle curves make green her meadows,
but whose powerful energy, joining t'he floods from distant
mountains, moves, with resistless might, the busy shuttles
of a hundied mills. She was too truthful to affect to welcome unwarrantable invaders of her peace, but no weary
traveler on life's hard ways ever applied to h'er in vain.
The little garden plot before her (loor was a- sacred inclosure, not to be rudely intruded upon; but the flowers she
tended with maternal care were no selfish possession, for
her own enjoyment only, and mau.ny are the lives their
sweetness has gladdened forever. So she lived among a
singularly peaceful and intelligent communlllity as one of
themselves, industrious, wise, and happy; with a frugality
whose motive of wider benevolence was in itself a homily
and a benediction."
In my last interview with her, our conversation, as
had often happened before, turned upon the great
theme of the future life. She spoke, as I remember,
caimly and not uncheerfully, but with the intense
earnestness and reverent curiosity of one who felt already the shadow of the unseen world resting upon
her.
Her death -as sudden and quite unexpected. For
some months she had been troubled with -a rheumatic
affection, hut it was by no means regalrded as se-rious.
A friend, who visited her a few days before her departure, found her in a comfortable condition, apart
from lameness. She talked of the coming election
with much interest, and of her plans for the winter.
On the morning of her death (October 20, 1SS880) she
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