st expensive masters. He filled his art gallery with the
finest pictures that money could command in the New York of that day. He
gave largely to public undertakings, was one of the founders of the New
York University, and was one of the foremost promoters of church
building in the then distant West. He demurred only at expenses
connected with dress and fashionable entertainment, for he always
disliked and distrusted the great world. My dear eldest brother held
many arguments with him on this theme. He saw, as we did, that our
father was disposed to ignore the value of ordinary social intercourse.
On one occasion the dispute between them became quite animated.

"Sir," said my brother, "you do not keep in view the importance of the
social tie."

"The social what?" asked my father.

"The social tie, sir."

"I make small account of that," said the elder gentleman.

"I will die in defense of it!" impetuously rejoined the younger. My
father was so much amused at this sally that he spoke of it to an
intimate friend: "He will die in defense of the social tie, indeed!"

[Illustration: SAMUEL WARD (MRS. HOWE'S father)

_From a miniature by Anne Hall._]

Our way of living was simple. The table was abundant, but not with the
richest food. For many years, as I have said, no alcoholic stimulant
appeared on it. My father gave away by dozens the bottles of costly wine
stored in his cellar, but neither tasted their contents nor allowed us
to do so. He was for a great part of his life a martyr to rheumatic
gout, and a witty friend of his once said: "Ward, it must be the poor
man's gout that you have, as you drink only water."

We breakfasted at eight in winter, at half past seven in summer. My
father read prayers before breakfast and before bedtime. If my brothers
lingered over the morning meal, he would come in, hatted and booted for
the day, and would say: "Young gentlemen, I am glad that you can afford
to take life so easily. I am old and must work for my living," a speech
which usually broke up our morning coterie. Dinner was served at four
o'clock, a light lunch abbreviating the fast for those at home. At half
past seven we sat down to tea, a meal of which toast, preserves, and
cake formed the staple. In the evening we usually sat together with
books and needlework, often with an interlude of music. An occasional
lecture, concert, or evening party varied this routine. My brothers went
much into fashionable society, but my