"Sitting in Sunshine."

665

Motherhood is life's richest and most delicious romance, and sitting in sunshine calm and sweet, with all my precious ones upon the other side, save the daughter who so faithfully cherishes me here, I thank God most of all that he ever said to me, "Bring up this child for me in the love of humanity and in the expectation of immortal life."

666

Audacious and Conservative.

FATHER.

Mother's description of my father is as follows:

Oi fine personal appearance, tall, rather slight, a well-poised head, dark blue eyes, square forehead and strong chin, a firm mouth, dark, full, and ornamental hair and beard.

Mr. Willard was select and true in his friendships; devout in religion; honorable and exact in business relations; proud of his children, though undemonstrative; versatile in affairs; analytical in his judgments of persons and principles; reserved and dignified to outsiders; easily accessible to only a few; fond of nature and books, to which he was especially drawn in all matters pertaining to horticulture.

He was an amateur artist, and most appreciative student of the writings of A. J. Downing. He had towering aspirations and a consciousness of reserved power, and was a marked and positive character, who achieved honorable distinction both in business and public positions.

Relative to his unique utterances, Dr. Bonbright, one of his most valued friends, once said to me, "Your father was the most audacious man in speech, and the most conservative in action, that I have ever known." He was thoroughly intellectual, and an insatiate reader, a life-long habit of the house being that we all went to bed early except father, who would sit up after the rest, saying he was going to read mother to sleep, a feat speedily accomplished, after which he sat alone for hours, poring over his books.

He had exceedingly fine taste, but I always thought he made a mistake in directing everything not only about the farm and the beautiful garden and grounds, but also the minutest expense within doors. This was not because mother was extravagant, for she was a thrifty though never a niggardly housekeeper, and she had excellent capacity in buying whatever goods were needed for the family, but father fell into the habit of buying everything himself. Indeed, he selected nearly all our dresses and bonnets, mother saying nothing about it, though I think she

"Father's Monuments."

667

would have been glad to have had it different. Very likely this resulted from his being almost every day in town, where all these things were to be had, while mother stayed with the children, because it was a solemn compact between them that both of them should never leave us at a time. My mother's abounding good health must have had to do with her always cheery spirits and 'equable temper. My father was a life-long invalid, though so brave and forceful that he said- very little about it, but his lungs were greatly weakened and he not only had several hemorrhages, but suffered from their frequently threatened recurrence. this, of course, affected his disposition and made him more irritable than he otherwise would have been, though I would not on any account represent him as other than a kind man in his home, for he certainly was so in intention, and usually in action. He was very loyal to all the ties that he had formed in life, to kindred, neighbors, associates in church and business, yet he disdained anything frivolous, was a Cromwellian sort of man in his loyalty, and in his convictions of duty.

All

Every home in which my father lived has memorials of him in the way of beautiful evergreens. He planted more trees and loved them better than any other person I ever knew. Rest Cottage was built by him on a large area of ground that was simply a marsh, considered perhaps as undesirable a lot as there was in Evanston, except for its location on the principal street, about a block and a half from the University campus. Now there is not a handsomer row of elms in the beautiful college town than the double row that stands in front of our home, shown in the picture entitled "Picturesque Evanston," and known by us as "Father's Monument."

My Uncle Zophar says there was nothing so pitiful in father's long illness during which he was with us at the home of this dear uncle, as his lamentation, sometimes with tears, when he would tell the story of the Irishman who died away from home, and who, grieving in his homesickness, would repeat over and over again that he should see his "beautiful Belle Valley no more." My father said to his brother that his greatest sorrow was that he should no more see Rest Cottage, which his loving skill had translated from a swamp into a charm.

In 1848, father was one of thirteen Free-soilers in the Madi

son legislature who held the balance of power to such a degree that an excellent law was secured through their instrumentality although they belonged to a third party, the Democrats and Whigs being the two great parties, and fully convinced that wisdom would die with them.

It interests me not a little that Hon. Samuel D. Hastings, who was a fellow-member of the Legislature with my father, and a valued friend of his, should now be treasurer of the Prohibition party and one of my most valued associates and friends in that party's Executive Committee. If such a suggestion had then been made to either of these men, they would have said that no woman would ever hold such a relation to politics unless chaos and old night had settled down upon the world, whereas the facts are that order and the rising day are the fitting emblems of the change that makes this possible.

For one year my father's feeble frame endured that most terrible disease, consumption. It crept upon him slowly, allowing him a daily respite at first, attacking him with great violence in the early months of summer, pursuing him when he left his home on the lake-shore as the chilly winds of autumn began to blow, and went to his friends at the East, hoping much from change of air and scene; confining him constantly to his bed for four months, wasting him to a mere skeleton, and finally, in untold suffering, wresting away his last faint breath. This is the earthly side; not so stands the record, thank God, upon the heavenly side. Almost from the first, he thought it would be his last illness, and quietly, diligently, and wisely proceeded to arrange his earthly affairs. No item, however minute, seemed to escape him. Whatever was of the least importance to his family, whatever friendship, or acquaintance, or any of his relations in life demanded or suggested, ever so faintly, was done by him.

Much that he said has been preserved, and dimly shadows the delightful visions by which the sick-room was made sacred. Extracts from these memoranda show the experience of his last days on earth:

Once when a dear friend sat beside him, while his cheek wore the hectic flush, he said: "If Christ sat here, as you do, by my side, and said to me, 'My dear brother, what can I do for you, in any way that I have not already done?' I should say, 'Nothing, beloved Lord!'"

The Heavenly Side.

669

Speaking of that wondrous verse, “And ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's," he said:

"What a stupendous meaning is in those words! Think them over for yourself! Ah, as one nears the border of that plane which breaks off suddenly, these things grow clearer to the mind."

September 19.-I was writing up his brief diary and he said:

"I did not mention it, but you might put it in every day, 'Peace, great peace in God.'"

September 22.-He talked long and in a most interesting way about faith-always his favorite theme-concluding with these striking words :

"Trust me and I'll take care of you '; that's what Christ says. That's religion and that's good for something! Walk right out on this plank into the dark eternity; when you come to the end of the plank, Christ will be there to catch you."

November 23.-Referring to a plan he had feebly sketched in pencil of the family burial lots in Rose Hill Cemetery, he said:

"I drew this with as much pleasure as I ever planned a garden. How God can change men's minds! I never used to think about our cemetery lots, but now I very often do, and love to call them our family home-our blessed family home!" (Uttering these words with tears.)

November 24.-"I have often thought of late how much richer I am than any Emperor. An Emperor has this world to back him, to be sure, but think of me! I have God and His universe on my side, because of the childlike faith which I, a poor, trembling, dying man, repose in my Redeemer! This is a high truth a wonderfully inspiring thought. People who are well don't know anything about my feelings in these crisis hours. Ah! I've rested my case with the eternal God!"

December 2.-Rev. J. N. Simkins (whose kind attentions were a great comfort to him) called. Father said to him, very naturally, "I have been dictating letters, having business papers filed, etc. It's a good deal of work, getting ready for so long a journey. You know there are so many 'last things' to be regulated!"

"The doctrine of sanctification by faith in Christ, preceded by entire self-surrender to Him, is unspeakably dear to me. It should be fearlessly preached from our pulpits and earnestly sought by our people. How little does one know of his powers of submission until the Holy Spirit helps and teaches him! How God can humble and chasten a strong, self-reliant man, until he lies in His hand like a simple, loving, teachable child! The hour in which he does this is life's holiest, truest hour."

Extracts from a dictated letter:

MY DEAR SISTER BRAGDON-Your poor friend lies helpless in the arms of Jesus, waiting to depart. I often think of you and of your little family gathered up there in your cozy home so near that dear home of mine which I had hoped longer to enjoy, but which I have given up, though not without many a bitter pang. But it was one of the sacrifices of this life which I must make before going to my glorious home in heaven. I expect we shall be again settled near each other in a better world. I'm going soon,