udies, and at length proposed that I should become a contributor to
the "Theological Review," of which he was editor at that time. I
undertook to furnish a review of Lamartine's "Jocelyn," which had
recently appeared. When I had done my best with this, Dr. Cogswell went
over the pages with me very carefully, pointing out defects of style and
arrangement. The paper attracted a good deal of attention, and some
comments on it gave occasion to the admonition which my dear uncle
thought fit to administer to me, as already mentioned.

The house of my young ladyhood (I use this term, as it was the one in
use at the time of which I write) was situated at the corner of Bond
Street and Broadway. When my father built it, the fashion of the city
had not proceeded so far up town. The model of the house was a noble
one. Three spacious rooms and a small study occupied the first floor.
These were furnished with curtains of blue, yellow, and red silk. The
red room was that in which we took our meals. The blue room was the one
in which we received visits, and passed the evenings. The yellow room
was thrown open only on high occasions, but my desk and grand piano were
placed in it, and I was allowed to occupy it at will. This and the blue
room were adorned by beautiful sculptured mantelpieces, the work of
Thomas Crawford, afterwards known as a sculptor of great merit. Many
years after this time he became the husband of the sister next me in
age, and the father of F. Marion Crawford, the now celebrated novelist.

Our family was patriarchal in its dimensions, including my aunt and
uncle Francis, whose children were all born in my father's house, and
were very dear to him. My maternal grandmother also passed much time
with us. My two younger brothers, Henry and Marion, were at home with us
after a term of years at Round Hill School. My eldest brother, Samuel
(afterwards the Sam. Ward of the Lobby), a most accomplished and
agreeable young man, had recently returned from Europe, bringing with
him a fine library. My father, having already added to his large house a
spacious art gallery, now built a study, whose walls were entirely
occupied by my brother's books. I had free access to these, and did not
neglect to profit by it.

From what I have just said, it may rightly be inferred that my father
was a man of fine tastes, inclined to generous and even lavish
expenditure. He desired to give us the best educational opportunities,
the best and mo