CHAPTER VII.

A TRUE SISTER.

The Fraternal Tie.-Mary Lyon as a Sister.-Her Brother's Family.-Lines she put into his Wife's Hand.-Grief at his Departure for the West.-Letters to her Sister and Brother.-Assistance to her Sisters.-To her Nieces. -If Girls would become True Women, they must be True Sisters.-Relation to Brothers.-Failure as Sisters at Home Foreshadows Failure Abroad.-Remark of Dr. Alcott. Of Washington Irving. - Of Another Writer. Henry Martyn.-Striking Example of a Sister's Influence.-What do these Facts Show?-The Princess Elizabeth Exposing her Life for her Sister.-Wife of Intaphernes Saved her Brother instead of Husband from Death.-Sisterly Fidelity Indicates other Virtues.

T is equally well known that eminent women

I have qusually been true sisters. There appears

to be a similar connection between the fraternal tie and future distinction, that exists between the latter and the filial relation. The virtues that are indispensable to a true sister are those which lead. to usefulness in the other relations of life. It is almost certain that a sister of this description will make a true friend, wife, or mother. For she has qualities that prepare her for one, or all, of these

relations. She has had that regard to personal duty which is of priceless value in every situation.

Mary Lyon was the best of sisters. She was ever deeply concerned for the welfare of each member of the family. Their happiness was her happiness. Her sisterly affection was unselfish and whole-hearted. She was willing not only to share good fortune equally with them, but even to take the smaller portion herself.

We have seen that after her mother's second marriage she became her brother's housekeeper. Within a year the brother was married, and thereafter his abode was Mary's home until 1819, when he removed to Ohio. His removal was the cause of much grief to her affectionate heart. Just before the family started for their Western home, she slipped the following lines into the hand of her brother's wife :

"Not one sigh shall tell my story,

Not one tear my cheek shall stain ;
Silent grief shall be my glory,

Grief that stoops not to complain."

She had become tenderly attached to his little children, and their departure was like sundering her very heart-strings. heart-strings. "Her friends that remained with her well remember her grief as they were borne away. For months afterwards, whenever that brother was spoken of in her presence, her tears would flow, and her silent and subdued feel

ings did not hinder her friends from seeing how deeply and tenderly she loved him. Little did she imagine that, in process of time, those daughters were to return, to receive instruction from her lips in a seminary founded by her instrumentality; and, being better fitted to perform the duties of life, were to go forth, some to labour as teachers in our own country, and one to teach the benighted heathen under the shadow of a Chinese pagoda."

The following extract from a letter addressed to one of her sisters gives us a key to her faithful heart:

"Although I am pleasantly situated, and have no more cares and little daily trials than I should expect, yet it would be pleasant to spend an hour with one of my dear sisters, to whom I could tell all my heart. The fact that no two of our family, unless it be our brother and our sister Rosina, are spending this summer together, awakens emotions peculiar and rather gloomy. Ever since I heard of brother Moore's death, but more particularly for two days past, I have thought much of my brother and sisters. I have seemed to review twenty years with relation to ourselves. Change and revolution, uncertainty and disappointment, decay and death, are stamped on every object. I see this family, that about twenty years ago were prattling children, united and happy in the arms of their fond parents, now scattered over four different States of the

Union, and some of them seven hundred miles apart.

"Let me hear not only from yourself, but also from my other friends. Separation does not lessen the interest I take in their welfare. When I think of the older members of the family, I also involuntarily think of their children. I have the same kind of interest in their prosperity that I have ever had for that of their parents. Sometimes I feel that it would be a privilege to live, to render myself useful to the children of my brothers and sisters."

To another sister she wrote: "O that I could fly over the hills and pay you a visit. Friends know best the strength of their love when they are separated. If possible, I think more of you now than ever. But should I fill a whole sheet in describing my desire to see you, and the delight which would be derived from an interview with you, it would be saying just nothing at all; therefore I shall leave all to be supplied by your imagination."

The following touching epistle was addressed to her brother :

"SOUTH HADLEY, Dec. 3, 1840. "But a few years ago, we seemed an unbroken circle. Though separated from each other, we

seven were all living, and could

for one another from day to day.

think and pray

After the hand

of death was laid on our dear father, nearly thirty years passed away before any one of us was called out of time into eternity. Since then, how frequently have we been called to mourning! How great have been the ravages of death! You have heard of sister F.'s departure, and now it becomes my painful duty to tell you that another one is gone. Yes, our dear mother is no more. My dear brother, can you think how lonely it was to me as I followed her dear remains to the grave, with no brother or sister by my side? I felt that indeed our family was but a broken circle. As I passed out of the door where I have often met her gladdened and joyful face, as I went along my way, where we have so many times driven together to see sister J., and as I looked on her placid face for the last time, 'Can this be,' thought I, 'my dear mother? and is this my last visit to her solitary home?'"

One of her sisters died at the hospital in Hartford, and Mary paid "all her regular bills, and the extra charges for nursing and watching." She did this in order that the small property her sister left might be divided among her children. "It is recollected," also, says another, "how she watched over the infant child of her youngest sister, which died but a few days before its mother; how she nursed it with her own hands, and ever spoke of it with animation, as in the infant choir above."