Her next
readings were given in Boston, the first, in the afternoon, at the
Tremont Temple. She was conscious that her effort at Springfield had
not been altogether successful,--she had not held her large audience;
and she was determined to put the whole force of her nature into this
afternoon reading at the Tremont Temple. She called me into her
bedroom, where she stood before the mirror, with her short gray hair,
which usually lay in soft curls around her brow, brushed erect and
standing stiffly. "Look here, my dear," she said; "now I am exactly
like my father, Dr. Lyman Beecher, when he was going to preach," and
she held up her forefinger warningly. It was easy to see that the
spirit of the old preacher was revived in her veins, and the afternoon
would show something of his power. An hour later, when I sat with her
in the anteroom waiting for the moment of her appearance to arrive, I
could feel the power surging up within her. I knew she was armed for a
good fight.
That reading was a great success. She was alive in every fibre of her
being: she was to read portions of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" to men, women,
and children many of whom had taken no part in the crisis which
inspired it, and she determined to effect the difficult task of making
them feel as well as hear. With her presence and inspiration they
could not fail to understand what her words had signified to the
generation that had passed through the struggle of our war.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198