performance upon a slender reed, but the great
performers in the noble orchestra of writers answered to its appeal,
which won me a seat in their ranks.

The work, such as it was, dealt partly with the stirring questions of
the time, partly with things near and familiar. The events of 1848 were
still in fresh remembrance: the heroic efforts of Italian patriots to
deliver their country from foreign oppression, the struggle of Hungary
to maintain her ancient immunities. The most important among my "Passion
Flowers" were devoted to these themes. The wrongs and sufferings of the
slave had their part in the volume. A second publication, following two
years later, and styled "Words for the Hour," was esteemed by some
critics as better than the first. George William Curtis, at that time
editor of "Putnam's Magazine," wrote me, "It is a better book than its
predecessor, but will probably not meet with the same success." And so,
indeed, it proved.

I had always contemplated writing for the stage, and was now emboldened
to compose a drama entitled, "The World's Own," which was produced at
Wallack's Theatre in New York. The principal characters were sustained
by Matilda Heron, then in the height of her popularity, and Mr. Sothern,
afterwards so famous in the role of Lord Dundreary. The play was
performed several times in New York and once in Boston. It was
pronounced by one critic "full of literary merits and of dramatic
defects." It did not, as they say, "keep the stage."

My next literary venture was a series of papers descriptive of a visit
made to the island of Cuba in 1859, under the following circumstances.

Theodore Parker had long intended to make this year one of foreign
travel. He had planned a journey in South America, and Dr. Howe had
promised to accompany him. The sudden failure of Parker's health at this
time was thought to render a change of climate imperative, and in the
month of February a voyage to Cuba was prescribed for him. In this, Dr.
Howe willingly consented to accompany him, deciding also that I must be
of the party.

[Illustration: SAMUEL GRIDLEY HOWE

_From a photograph about 1859._]

Our departure was in rough weather. George Ripley, formerly of Brook
Farm and then of the "New York Tribune," an early friend of Parker, came
to see us off. My husband insisted somewhat strenuously upon my coming
to table at the first meal served on board, as this would secure me a
place for the entire voyage. I fel