of her life has been kindled by energy and devotion. I realize
how far short I have fallen in writing of her, but the letters of
the old friends and students are so full of savor and appreciation, that they will avail and succeed where I have failed. I
am somewhat reassured by this, for they have been a great
delight to me.
You will not wonder that these pages are full of reminiscent
thought. Few people live in the present. We dream and
dote on the past with the enchantment lent by distance. We
hope and plan for the future, and rarely think of to-day, which
is the link that carries us from the yesterday that was, to the
morrow which is to be. We seem not to be able to look the
sun straight in the face; we see our future gilded by his rising
beams; we view our past in his fading glow and the light of
memory.
Yes, this book is a song of the past, and not a sermon for
the future. It is a love-token, pure and simple. Out of the
fulness of my heart have the lines been written, with the hope
...