This woman of many noble traits was especially endowed with the rare gift of loyal and understanding friendship. Her relation to kindred and personal friends brought to her and to them an unusual degree of happiness. This was so great a factor in her life that it may seem as if special mention of many of these friends should be made in even so brief a sketch as this. But they themselves will realize how impossible this would be because the circle to which they belong is so large. She was not blind to the failings of her friends, but was clear in her comprehension of their fundamental traits, and her love for them, her strong though often undemonstrative interest in them, never abated. While she added to their number many times during her stay in different places, no new friend or new interest ever took the place of an old one. Her generous heart had room for all whom she took to it.
Her correspondence with friends was surprisingly large in view of the frequency of her letters to her own immediate circle; when the family became widely scattered this might easily have been made an excuse for dropping much of the general correspondence, but instead of that it grew as the circle of her interest widened. No one was neglected and all letters were written with her own hand. During the last years of her life much of her mail that was not personal became a distinct burden with its increasing appeals from all directions, but she conscientiously attended to it all herself. An abundance of good common sense helped her to ignore many of these, but any that could not be laid aside lightly she investigated in a way that took much time and strength.
Her outspoken nature and uncompromising mind often made her draw hard and fast lines in no unmistakable way as to conduct that met her approval or condemnation, but she asked no one to come up to any standard higher than she had laid down for herself. She wanted above all things to be just, and few people are so essentially just as she was. To quote a friend, "her judgment of character was clear, just, and vigorous."
One fixed habit of her mind must not be overlooked: this was unwillingness to accept any help in whatever she could possibly do herself. Many friends thought this a failing and frequently told her so. They were wont to rebel against the fact that they could not serve her, while she was a past master in the art of serving others. Her swift motions and deft hands, impelled by her quick mind, would outwit half a dozen people who were looking for means by which to circumvent her. No amount of urging could lead her to agree to be waited upon if that could be avoided, and she often refused to accept ministrations at times when it seemed to others that they were necessary to her comfort. But even at such times she would withhold no service for another. Whatever mention the Recording Angel may make of this failing, it will be very brief compared with what is written of the countless deeds of love and of kindness for others with which she filled her days.
Fortunately, many letters to the family and other friends have been kept. They are singularly like her; never diffuse, but with that rare and happy characteristic of telling concretely and clearly what was of most interest to those to whom they were written, and never letting irrelevant generalities take the place of matters of importance. In reading these letters consecutively we are struck by the naïve and unconscious way in which she reveals much of herself. They contain few allusions to her own discomforts, but abound in sympathy for any that have come to those to whom she is writing; they show how her happiness never depended on anything that she might obtain for herself, while she magnifies whatever others do for her. Social gatherings that brought old friends and new together she enjoyed in a simple, whole-hearted way; she cordially approved of fun and encouraged it by giving and taking it, but never seemed to seek diversion. Her happiness came from what was close at hand, especially in the simple every day gifts that are bestowed on us all. Among her papers is found this "Line of Cheer:"
"I love the air of hill and sea
That puts its crispness into me.
I love the smiling of the sky
That sets its twinkle in mine eye.
I love the vigor of the gale
That lends me strength where mine doth fail.
I love the golden light of day
That makes my jaded spirit gay.
I love the dark of night whose guest
I find myself when I would rest.
And gratitude doth hold me thrall
Unto the Giver of them all."
A few sentences taken at random from the letters show that this expressed what was in her mind: "The day has been beautiful. You know this is the rainless season and the hills, as we came along, were all brown, no green grass anywhere, but the trees are beautiful with very full leafage, showing that the air is very moist.... I wish that you could see 'The Springs' now it is so very beautiful.... I have some dear little finches building in their evergreen trees. I think that there are several pairs. Tell Gregg that I can look from my chamber window directly into a robin's nest."
In one of her letters to her grandchildren she says: "I went down to the Young Women's Christian Association rooms yesterday afternoon to take tea and hear the report of those who have been raising money to support the work there. Some little girls were having their gymnastic lessons and were having a very jolly time. At last the leaves are all off of the trees and I think the little wayside flowers must have had their noses pinched last night by Jack Frost."
Her interest not only in the beauty of the world about her but in what others are doing to make it bring forth and bud for the good of mankind is shown over and over: "Alice is happy," she writes, "to have the weather warmer for her garden. She thinks that her vegetables have had too much hail and cold weather, but the last two days have been fine. The country here responds very quickly to showers, the trees and grass now are in perfection and the whole town is beautifully dressed. I have never seen it looking better notwithstanding the dandelions."