e
Greenwood)

I feel Mrs. Croly's death very deeply. The sacred holiday season,
dedicated from time immemorial to household joy and mirth, and calling
for Christian gratitude and hope, was already saddened by
bereavements, and her death--absolutely unlooked for by me--made it
melancholy and mournful.

"She should have died hereafter." I did not dream when I saw her last
that she was to solve the great mystery before me. Though feeble,
there seemed so much of the old energetic, enthusiastic self about
her; and I parted from her hoping to see her soon in renewed health
and strength.

She always had a peculiar fascination for me: her soft, sweet voice;
her strong though quiet will; her unfailing faith in all things good;
her loyalty to her sex. I think her pass-word to the realm of rest and
reward must have been, "I loved my fellow-woman."

35 Lockwood Avenue, New Rochelle,
January 6, 1902.

From a Letter to the Memorial Committee from Jennie de la M. Lozier

Mrs. Croly was a woman of uncommon intuition and sympathy. She took
wide and far-reaching views of woman's possible development and
usefulness. She believed in organization as a factor in this
development, and spared no effort to form and maintain, even at
personal sacrifice, the woman's club or federation. She was always
generous and warm-hearted, of boundless hospitality, never more
genially herself than when her friends gathered about her in her
attractive home and she could make them happy. I shall always recall
with pleasure the rare moments when she talked with me of her real
life, her hopes and her plans. I believe that she constantly exerted a
noble influence, and that she stood for all that makes for woman's
unselfish helpfulness, courage and independence.

New York, February 10, 1902.

From Genie H. Rosenfeld

In the early days of the Woman's Press Club, when it was divided upon
the question of a suitable meeting place, and undisciplined members
were resigning in appreciable numbers, Mrs. Croly surprised me one day
by declaring that the club had never been stronger than it was at that
hour.

"Why, Mrs. Croly!" I exclaimed, "we have only a handful of women
left."

"My dear," she said, "we have lopped off all our dead wood. The
branches that remain may be few, but they are vigorous, and from them
will spring up a tree that will be a glory to us."

This little saying of Mrs. Croly's has come back to me and been of