devil she does look!"

After a winter passed in Canada, Mrs. Jameson again visited New York, on
her way to England. She called upon me one day with a friend, and asked
to see my father's pictures. Two of these, portraits of Charles First
and his queen, were supposed to be by Vandyke. Mrs. Jameson doubted
this. She spoke of her intimacy with the celebrated Mrs. Somerville, and
said, "I think of her as a dear little woman who is very fond of
drawing." When I went to return her visit, I found her engaged in
earnest conversation with a son of Sir James Mackintosh. When he had
taken leave, she said to me, "Mr. Mackintosh and I were almost at
daggers drawing." So far as I could learn, their dispute related to
democratic forms of government, and the society therefrom resulting,
which he viewed with favor and she with bitter dislike. I inquired about
her winter in Canada. She replied, "As the Irishman said, I had
everything that a pig could want." A volume from her hand appeared soon
after this time, entitled "Winter Studies and Summer Rambles in Canada."
Her work on "Sacred and Legendary Art" and her "Legends of the Madonna"
were published some years later.

CHAPTER IV

HOME LIFE: MY FATHER

I left school at the age of sixteen, and began thereafter to study in
good earnest. Until that time a certain over-romantic and imaginative
turn of mind had interfered much with the progress of my studies. I
indulged in day-dreams which appeared to me far higher in tone than the
humdrum of my school recitations. When these were at an end, I began to
feel the necessity of more strenuous application, and at once arranged
for myself hours of study, relieved by the practice of vocal and
instrumental music.

At this juncture, a much esteemed friend of my father came to pass some
months with us. This was Joseph Green Cogswell, founder and principal of
Round Hill School, at which my three brothers had been among his pupils.
The school, a famous one in its day, was now finally closed. Our new
guest was an accomplished linguist, and possessed an admirable power of
imparting knowledge. With his aid, I resumed the German studies which I
had already begun, but in which I had made but little progress. Under
his tuition, I soon found myself able to read with ease the masterpieces
of Goethe and Schiller.

Rev. Leonard Woods, son of a well-known pastor of that name, was a
familiar guest at my father's house. He took some interest in my
st