Julia sometimes tried to awaken in her sisters’ minds the poetic aspirations which filled her own. One day she found the two little girls playing some childish game, which seemed to her unnecessarily frivolous. (You all know, I am sure, the eldest sister’s motto,--
“Good advice and counsel sage, And ‘I never did so when I was your age;’”
and the companion sentiment of the younger sister,--
“‘Sister, don’t!’ and ‘Sister, do!’ And ‘Why may not I as well as you?’”)
Miss Ward,--she was always called Miss Ward, poor little dear! and her dolls were taken away from her when she was only nine years old, that she might better feel the dignity of her position!--Miss Ward rebuked the little sisters, and bade them lay aside their foolish toys and improve their minds by composing poetry. Louisa shook her black curls, and would not,--moreover, did not, being herself a child of some firmness. But little sweet Annie would try, to please Sister Julia; and after much thought and labor she produced the following pious effusion:--
“He feeds the ravens when they call, And stands them in a pleasant hall.”
I never can recall these lines without having an instant vision of a pillared hall, fair and
stately, with ravens standing in niches along the sides, between the marble columns!
So this maiden, Julia, grew up to womanhood, dreamy and absent, absorbed in severe study and composition, yet always ready with the brilliant flashes of her wit, which broke like sunbeams through the mist of dreams. She was very fair to look upon. No one now pitied her for the glorious crown of red-gold hair, which set off the rose and ivory of her matchless complexion; every one recognized and acknowledged in her “stately Julia, queen of all.”
Once, while on a visit to Boston, Julia heard the wonderful story of Laura Bridgman, who had just been led out of darkness into the light of life and joy by a certain Dr. Howe, a man of whom people spoke as a modern paladin of romance, a Roland or Bayard. She saw him, and felt at once that he was the most remarkable man she had ever known. He, on his part, saw a youthful prophetess, radiant and inspired, crowned with golden hair. Acquaintance ripened into friendship, friendship into love; and so it happened that, in the year 1843, Samuel G. Howe and Julia Ward were married. The next chapter shall tell you of Julia Ward Howe, as we, her children, have known her.