Part 1 (2/2)

My father possessed a strong intellect and an iron will. Of my mother I cannot speak as I would, for memory recalls qualities to which the pen can never do justice. The following is a brief extract from the eulogy of the Rev. Richard S. Rust, D.D., who for many years had resided in Tilton and knew my sainted mother in all the walks of life.

The character of Mrs. Abigail Ambrose Baker was distinguished for numerous excellences. She possessed a strong intellect, a sympathizing heart, and a placid spirit. Her presence, like the gentle dew and cheerful light, was felt by all around her. She gave an elevated character to the tone of conversation in the circles in which she moved, and directed attention to themes at once pleasing and profitable.

As a mother, she was untiring in her efforts to secure the happiness of her family. She ever entertained a lively sense of the parental obligation, especially in regard to the education of her children. The oft-repeated impressions of that sainted spirit, on the hearts of those especially entrusted to her watch-care, can never be effaced, and can hardly fail to induce them to follow her to the brighter world. Her life was a living ill.u.s.tration of Christian faith.

My childhood's home I remember as one with the open hand. The needy were ever welcome, and to the clergy were accorded special household privileges.

Among the treasured reminiscences of my much respected parents, brothers, and sisters, is the memory of my second brother, Albert Baker, who was, next to my mother, the very dearest of my kindred. To speak of his beautiful character as I cherish it, would require more s.p.a.ce than this little book can afford.

My brother Albert was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1834, and was reputed one of the most talented, close, and thorough scholars ever connected with that inst.i.tution. For two or three years he read law at Hillsborough, in the office of Franklin Pierce, afterwards President of the United States; but later Albert spent a year in the office of the Hon.

Richard Fletcher of Boston. He was consequently admitted to the bar in two States, Ma.s.sachusetts and New Hamps.h.i.+re. In 1837 he succeeded to the law-office which Mr. Pierce had occupied, and was soon elected to the Legislature of his native State, where he served the public interests faithfully for two consecutive years. Among other important bills which were carried through the Legislature by his persistent energy was one for the abolition of imprisonment for debt.

In 1841 he received further political preferment, by nomination to Congress on a majority vote of seven thousand,--it was the largest vote of the State; but he pa.s.sed away at the age of thirty-one, after a short illness, before his election. His n.o.ble political antagonist, the Hon.

Isaac Hill, of Concord, wrote of my brother as follows:--

Albert Baker was a young man of uncommon promise. Gifted with the highest order of intellectual powers, he trained and schooled them by intense and almost incessant study throughout his short life.

He was fond of investigating abstruse and metaphysical principles, and he never forsook them until he had explored their every nook and corner, however hidden and remote. Had life and health been spared to him, he would have made himself one of the most distinguished men in the country. As a lawyer he was able and learned, and in the successful practice of a very large business.

He was noted for his boldness and firmness, and for his powerful advocacy of the side he deemed right. His death will be deplored, with the most poignant grief, by a large number of friends, who expected no more than they realized from his talents and acquirements. This sad event will not be soon forgotten. It blights too many hopes; it carries with it too much of sorrow and loss. It is a public calamity.

VOICES NOT OUR OWN

Many peculiar circ.u.mstances and events connected with my childhood throng the chambers of memory. For some twelve months, when I was about eight years old, I repeatedly heard a voice, calling me distinctly by name, three times, in an ascending scale. I thought this was my mother's voice, and sometimes went to her, beseeching her to tell me what she wanted. Her answer was always, ”Nothing, child! What do you mean?” Then I would say, ”Mother, who _did_ call me? I heard somebody call _Mary_, three times!”

This continued until I grew discouraged, and my mother was perplexed and anxious.

One day, when my cousin, Mehitable Huntoon, was visiting us, and I sat in a little chair by her side, in the same room with grandmother,--the call again came, so loud that Mehitable heard it, though I had ceased to notice it. Greatly surprised, my cousin turned to me and said, ”Your mother is calling you!” but I answered not, till again the same call was thrice repeated. Mehitable then said sharply, ”Why don't you go? your mother is calling you!” I then left the room, went to my mother, and once more asked her if she had summoned me? She answered as always before. Then I earnestly declared my cousin had heard the voice, and said that mother wanted me.

Accordingly she returned with me to grandmother's room, and led my cousin into an adjoining apartment. The door was ajar, and I listened with bated breath. Mother told Mehitable all about this mysterious voice, and asked if she really did hear Mary's name p.r.o.nounced in audible tones. My cousin answered quickly, and emphasized her affirmation.

That night, before going to rest, my mother read to me the Scriptural narrative of little Samuel, and bade me, when the voice called again, to reply as he did, ”Speak, Lord; for Thy servant heareth.” The voice came; but I was afraid, and did not answer. Afterward I wept, and prayed that G.o.d would forgive me, resolving to do, next time, as my mother had bidden me.

When the call came again I did answer, in the words of Samuel, but never again to the material senses was that mysterious call repeated.

Is it not much that I may wors.h.i.+p Him, With naught my spirit's breathings to control, And feel His presence in the vast and dim And whispering woods, where dying thunders roll From the far cataracts? Shall I not rejoice That I have learned at last to know His voice From man's?--I will rejoice! My soaring soul Now hath redeemed her birthright of the day, And won, through clouds, to Him, her own unfettered way!

--MRS. HEMANS.

EARLY STUDIES

My father was taught to believe that my brain was too large for my body and so kept me much out of school, but I gained book-knowledge with far less labor than is usually requisite. At ten years of age I was as familiar with Lindley Murray's Grammar as with the Westminster Catechism; and the latter I had to repeat every Sunday. My favorite studies were natural philosophy, logic, and moral science. From my brother Albert I received lessons in the ancient tongues, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. My brother studied Hebrew during his college vacations. After my discovery of Christian Science, most of the knowledge I had gleaned from schoolbooks vanished like a dream.

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