In the midst of our "moving," after I had packed and stowed and lifted, and been elbowed by all the sharp corners in the house, and had my hands all torn and scratched, I spied the new "Knickerbocker" 'mid a heap of rubbish and was tempted to peep into it. Lo and behold, the first thing that met my eye was the Lament of the Last Peach. [9] I didn't care to read more and forthwith returned to fitting of carpets and arranging tables and chairs and bureaus—but all the while meditating how I should be revenged upon you. As to ——'s request I am sorry to answer nay; for I feel it would be the greatest presumption in me to think of writing for a magazine like that. I do not wish to publish anything, anywhere, though it would be quite as wise as to entrust my scraps to your care. My mother often urges me to send little things which she happens to fancy, to this and that periodical. Without her interference nothing of mine would ever have found its way into print. But mammas look with rose-colored spectacles on the actions and performances of their offspring. Have you laughed over the Pickwick Papers? We have almost laughed ourselves to death over them. I have not seen Lizzy D. for a long time, but hear she is getting along rapidly. If I could go to school two years more, I should be glad, but of course that is out of the question…. It is easier for you to write often than it is for me. You have not three tearing, growing brothers to mend and make for. I am become quite expert in the arts of patching and darning. I am going to get some pies and cake and raisins and other goodies to send to our girl's sick brother. If I had not so dear and happy a home, I should envy you yours. You say you do not remember whether I love music or not. I love it extravagantly sometimes—but have not the knowledge to enjoy scientific performances. The simple melody of a single voice is my delight. Mrs. French, the Episcopal minister's wife, who is a great friend of ours and lives next door (so near that she and sister talk together out of their windows), has a baby two days old with black curly hair and black eyes, and I shall have a nice time with it this winter. Do you love babies?
The question with which this letter closes, suggests one of Lizzy's most striking and loveliest traits. She had a perfect passion for babies, and reveled in tending, kissing, and playing with them. Here are some pretty lines in one of her girlish contributions to "The Youth's Companion," which express her feeling about them:
What are little babies for?
Say! say! say!
Are they good-for-nothing things?
Nay! nay! nay!
Can they speak a single word?
Say! say! say!
Can they help their mothers sew?
Nay! nay! nay!
Can they walk upon their feet?
Say! say! say!
Can they even hold themselves?
Nay! nay! nay!
What are little babies for?
Say! say! say!
Are they made for us to love?
Yea! YEA!! YEA!!!
In the fall of 1838 Mrs. Payson purchased a house in Cumberland street, which continued to be her residence until the family was broken up. You remember the charming little room Lizzy had fitted up over the hall in this house, how nicely she kept it, and how happy she was in it. One of the windows looked out on a little flower garden and at the close of the long summer days the sunset could be enjoyed from the west window. She had had some fine books given her, which, added to the previous store, made a somewhat rare collection for a young girl in those days.
About this time, having been relieved of her part of domestic service by the coming into the family of a young relative—whose devotion to her was unbounded—she opened in the house a school for little girls. It consisted at first of perhaps eight or ten, but their number increased until the house could scarcely hold them. She was a born teacher and her young pupils fairly idolized her. [10] In this year, too, she took a class in the Sabbath-school composed of nearly the same group who surrounded her on the week-days, and they remained under her care as long as she lived in Portland.
The Rev. Mr. Vail having retired from the pastorate of the second parish in the autumn of 1837, Cyrus Hamlin, just from the Theological Seminary at Bangor, became the stated supply for some months. His preaching attracted the young people and during the winter and spring there was much interest in all the Congregational churches. Following the example of the other pastors, Mr. Hamlin invited persons seriously disposed to meet him for religious conversation. Elizabeth besought me, with all possible earnestness and affection, to "go to Mr. Hamlin's meeting." One day she came to see me a short time before the hour, saying that I was ever on her mind and in her prayers, that she had talked with Mr. Hamlin about me, nor would she leave me until I had promised to attend the meeting. I did so; and from that time we were united in the strong bonds of Christian love and sympathy. What a spiritual helper she was to me in those days! What precious notes I was all the time receiving from her! The memory of her tender, faithful friendship is still fresh and delightful, after the lapse of more than forty years. [11]
In the summer of 1838 the Rev. Jonathan B. Condit, D.D., was called from his chair in Amherst College and installed pastor of our church. He was a man of very graceful and winning manners and wonderfully magnetic. He at once became almost an object of worship with the enthusiastic young people. The services of the Sabbath and the weekly meetings were delightful. The young ladies had a praying circle which met every Saturday afternoon, full of life and sunshine. Indeed, the exclusive interest of the season was religious; our reading and conversation were religious; well-nigh the sole subject of thought was learning something new of our Saviour and His blessed service. All Lizzy's friends and several of her own family were rejoicing in hope. And she herself was radiant with joy. For a little while it seemed almost as if the shadows in the Christian path had fled away, and the crosses vanished out of sight. The winter and spring of 1840 witnessed another period of general religious interest in Portland. Large numbers were gathered into the churches. Lizzy was greatly impressed by the work, her own Christian life was deepened and widened, she was blessed in guiding several members of her beloved Sunday-school class to the Saviour, and was thus prepared, also, for the sharp trial awaiting her in the autumn of the same year, when she left her home and mother for a long absence in Richmond.