ighty-third year of his age. Here
are other sentences uttered by him at the grave of his wife: "Farewell,
my beloved, honored, and faithful wife! The tie that united us is
severed. Thou art with Jesus in glory; He is with me by His grace. I
shall soon be with you. Farewell!"

[7] Prof. Smith had been suddenly stricken down by severe illness and
with difficulty removed to the well-known Sanitarium at Clifton Springs.

[8] Referring to the book in a letter to a friend, written shortly after
its publication, she says: "Of course it will meet with rough treatment
in some quarters, as indeed it has already done. I doubt if any one
works very hard for Christ who does not have to be misunderstood and
perhaps mocked."

[9] One of the best notices appeared in The Churchman, an Episcopal
newspaper then published at Hartford, but since transferred to New York.
Here is a part of it:

"For purity of thought, earnestness and spirituality of feeling, and
smoothness of diction, they are all, without exception, good--if they
are not great. If no one rises to the height which other poets have
occasionally reached, they are, nevertheless, always free from those
defects which sometimes mar the perfectness of far greater productions.
Each portrays some human thirst or longing, and so touches the heart of
every thoughtful reader. There is a sweetness running through them all
which comes from a higher than earthly source, and which human wisdom
can neither produce nor enjoy."

[10] _Golden Hours_.

[11] The name given to the Dorset home.

[12] Afterwards changed to _Urbane and His Friends_.

[13] The passage from Coleridge is as follows: "The feeling of gratitude
which I cherish towards these men has caused me to digress further
than I had foreseen or proposed; but to have passed them over in an
historical sketch of my literary life and opinions, would have seemed
like the denial of a debt, the concealment of a boon; for the writings
of these mystics acted in no slight degree to prevent my mind from being
imprisoned within the outline of any dogmatic system. They contributed
to keep alive the _heart_ in the _head_; gave me an indistinct, yet
stirring and working presentiment that all the products of the mere
_reflective_ faculty partook of DEATH, and were as the rattling of twigs
and sprays in winter, into which a sap was yet to be propelled from
some root to which I had not penetrated, if they were to afford my soul
either food or