attle, a constant rowing hard against the stream of
popular prejudice and hatred. And through it all, pecuniary privations,
loss of friends and position, the painfulness of being suddenly thrust
from the still air of delightful studies into the bitterest and sternest
controversy of the age, she bore herself with patience, fortitude, and
unshaken reliance on the justice and ultimate triumph of the cause she
had espoused."

In a short time thereafter she had published four more antislavery books
or pamphlets. "Philothia," a romance whose scene is laid in ancient
Greece, appeared in 1836. For eight years, dating from 1844, Mr. and
Mrs. Childs were joint-editors of "The Anti-Slavery Standard," published
in New York. She had a room in the house of Isaac Hopper,--"a house
where disinterestedness and noble labor were as daily breath." It was
during this time that she wrote her "Letters from New York," under which
title her letters to "The Boston Courier" appeared in a volume having an
enormous sale. In 1852, having given up the editorship of "The
Standard," Mrs. Child said: "We made a humble home in Wayland, Mass.,
where we spent twenty-two pleasant years entirely alone, without any
domestic; mutually serving each other, and dependent on each other for
intellectual companionship."

During those years she was deeply and actively interested in the
progress of the Civil War. Its premonitions roused her. She warmly
defended the cause of John Brown, sending him a letter offering to go
nurse him in prison. Very soon she was deep in every sort of
undertaking,--collecting funds, collecting supplies, urging Whittier to
the writing of patriotic songs, sewing, knitting, quilting. Her intense
interest was manifested by generous contributions of money, how earned
or saved, she only knew. She said, "Nobles or princes cannot invent any
pleasure equal to earning with one hand and giving with the other."
Twenty dollars at one time, two hundred at another, and perhaps four
hundred at yet another, she gave. During these years, too, she was
writing and compiling other books,--"The Progress of Religious Ideas,"
"Looking towards Sunset," and "A Romance of the Republic." It was in the
last of these peaceful years that she wrote: "David and I are growing
old. He will be eighty in three weeks, and I was seventy-two last
February. But we keep young in our feelings. We are, in fact, like two
old children; as much interested as ever in the birds and wil