Now came the early October days when she was to receive the degree of Doctor of Laws from Smith College. She hesitated about making the tiresome journey, but finally, "Grudging the trouble and expense, I decide to go to Smith College, for my degree, but think I won't do so any more."
She started accordingly with daughter and maid, for Northampton, Massachusetts. It was golden weather, and she was in high spirits. Various college dignitaries met her at the station; one of these had given up a suite of rooms for her use; she was soon established in much peace and comfort.
Wednesday, October 5, was a day of perfect autumn beauty. She was early dressed in her white dress, with the college gown of rich black silk over it, the "mortar-board" covering in like manner her white lace cap. Thus arrayed, a wheeled chair conveyed her to the great hall, already packed with visitors and graduates, as was the deep platform with college officials and guests of honor. Opposite the platform, as if hung in air, a curving gallery was filled with white-clad girls, some two thousand of them; as she entered they rose like a flock of doves, and with them the whole audience. They rose once more when her name was called, last in the list of those honored with degrees; and as she came forward, the organ pealed, and the great chorus of fresh young voices broke out with
"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord—"
It was the last time.
Later in the day the students of Chapin House brought their guest-book, begging for her autograph. She looked at Laura with a twinkle.
"Do you think they would like me to write something?"
Assured on that point, she waited a moment, and then wrote after her signature,—
Wandered to Smith College
In pursuit of knowledge;
Leaves so much the wiser,
Nothing can surprise her!
She reached home apparently without undue fatigue. "She will be more tired to-morrow!" we said; but she was not. Her son came for the week-end, and his presence was always a cordial. Sunday was a happy day. In the evening we gathered round the piano, she playing, son and daughters singing the old German student songs brought by "Uncle Sam" from Heidelberg seventy years before.
On the Tuesday she went to the Papéterie, and was the life and soul of the party, sparkling with merriment. Driving home, it was so warm that she begged to have the top of the carriage put back, and so she enjoyed the crowning pageant of the autumn, the full hunter's moon and the crimson ball of the sun both visible at once.
Wednesday found her busy at her desk, confessing to a slight cold, but making nothing of it. The next day bronchitis developed, followed by pneumonia. For several days the issue seemed doubtful, the strong constitution fighting for life. Two devoted physicians were beside her, one the friend of many years, the other a young assistant. The presence of the latter puzzled her, but his youth and strength seemed tonic to her, and she would rest quietly with her hand in his strong hand.
On Sunday evening the younger physician thought her convalescent; the elder said, "If she pulls through the next twenty-four hours, she will recover."
But she was too weary. That night they heard her say, "God will help me!" and again, toward morning, "I am so tired!"
Being alone for a moment with Maud, she spoke one word: a little word that had meant "good-bye" between them in the nursery days.
So, in the morning of Monday, October 17, her spirit passed quietly on to God's keeping.
Those who were present at her funeral will not forget it. The flower-decked church, the mourning multitude, the white coffin borne high on the shoulders of eight stalwart grandsons, the words of age-long wisdom and beauty gathered into a parting tribute, the bugle sounding Taps, as she passed out in her last earthly triumph, the blind children singing round the grave on which the autumn sun shone with a final golden greeting.
We have told the story of our mother's life, possibly at too great length; but she herself told it in eight words.
"Tell me," Maud asked her once, "what is the ideal aim of life?"
She paused a moment, and replied, dwelling thoughtfully on each word,—
"To learn, to teach, to serve, to enjoy!"
THE END
INDEX
Abbott, J., I, 214, 215; II, 99.
Abdin Palace, II, 35, 36.
Abdul Hamid II, II, 42.
Abdul Hassan, mosque of, II, 36.
Aberdeen, Countess of, II, 165, 166.
Aberdeen, J. C. H. Gordon, Earl of, II, 165.
Abolitionists, I, 177, 305; II, 171.
Academy of Fine Arts, French, II, 23.
Acroceraunian Mountains, I, 272.
Acropolis, II, 43.
Adamowski, Timothée, II, 55, 58.
Adams, Charles Follen, II, 270, 273;
verse by, II, 335.
Adams, Mrs. C. F., I, 266.
Adams, John, I, 4.
Adams, John Quincy, II, 312.
Adams, Nehemiah, I, 168.
Advertiser, Boston, II, 195, 222.
Ægina, I, 73.
Æschylus, II, 130, 282, 348, 372.
Agassiz, Alexander, II, 50.
Agassiz, Elizabeth Cary, I, 124, 345, 361; II, 228, 287, 292.
Agassiz, Louis, I, 124, 151, 251, 345; II, 150, 158.
Aidé, Hamilton, II, 251.
Airlie, Lady, II, 254.
Alabama, II, 108.
Albania, I, 272.
Albany, I, 342.
Albert of Savoy, II, 303.
Albert Victor, II, 9.