USA > Indiana > St Joseph County > History of St. Joseph County, Indiana > Part 63
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Situated two miles from the pleasant city of South Bend, the young city and the college and academy have grown up together, and have proved inntual helps and encouragements. An exchange of courtesies have always marked the intercourse between these two institutions and the city of South Bend. Among her citizens are many whose names will always be remembered with pleasure and gratitude by the Sisters of the Holy Cross at St. Mary's, and the growth of each may well be a matter of just pride and congratula- tion to the other. Like South Bend, St. Mary's owes much of her material prosperity to the ready access given to the different parts of the country by the Michigan Southern & Lake Shore railroad. This road has been an old and long-tried friend to St. Mary's; while the Michigan Central now claims a place in her regard, on
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account of the branch road lately built in such a way as to put St. Mary's in direct communication with its extensive line of travel.
One mile east of St. Mary's rise the beautiful dome and spires of Notre Dame, the first home of the Order of the Holy Cross in America, and still the fountain head as well as faithful coadjutor. The interest of the Very Rev. Superior General in the welfare of St. Mary's has never slackened since the academy was removed from Bertrand to its present site; and this personal interest of the Sunpe- rior General, who has watched over its growth, is shared by the Very Rev. Provincial at Notre Dame, by the president and all the professors at the university. There is a community of interests between the two institutions which secures many privileges to the students of both. Professors from Notre Dame take pleasure in repeating their lectures for the benefit of the pupils of 'St. Mary's, and the Scholastic, published weekly at Notre Dame, is devoted to the educational interests of both institutions. These mutual advan- tages, and the short distance from the university to the academny (one mile), with a regular mode of conveyance to both places from South Bend, resolve many a family problem as to a place of educa- tion for sons and daughters. To the convenience of the parent, who can visit both at one time, is added the satisfaction of knowing that the youthful members of the family are near each other, espe- cially when coming from great distances.
NORTHERN INDIANA COLLEGE.
The Northern Indiana College was founded in 1861, by an asso- ciation of gentlemen residing at and in the vicinity of South Bend. They organized under an act of the General Assembly, entitled "An act for the incorporation of high schools, academies and colleges." The institution was for the accommodation of both male and female students. The first Board of Trustees was composed of the follow- ing named gentlemen: Schuyler Colfax, William Miller, John H. Harper, John Brownfield, Asbury Clark, George F. Layton, Fran- cis R. Tutt, John W. Chess and Elisha Egbert. A college building was erected at the west end of Washington street, one mile from the court-house. It was easy of access, healthy, and afforded a fine view of the city and surrounding country. From its inception, it had many difficulties to contend with, principally of a financial character. On this account the edifice was not completed until the fall of 1866. The building was of brick 50x90 feet, and four stories high, including basement. The front was ornamented by a central and cylindrical tower, rising to an altitude of nearly one hundred feet, and connected with every floor in the building. The interior arrangement was well adapted to the purposes for which it was intended, and the whole edifice finished in a workmanlike manner.
On Thursday, Jan, 10, 1867, the dedication of the college to the cause of Christian education took place. The dedicatory sermon
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was preached by Rev. T. M. Eddy, of Chicago, the sermon being founded upon Proverbs xxix : 18, " Where there is no vision, the people perish."
The school was duly opened, lingered a few years, became involved, the school closed, the building passed into other hands, and the Northern Indiana College was of the past.
CHAPTER XX.
AUTHORS AND SELECTIONS.
Mrs. Flora L. Stanfield was born in Cleveland, Ohio, October, 1848. She is the danghter of T. G. and Laura O. Turner, both of whom were possessed of literary talents of no mean order, sketches of whom are given elsewhere. Mrs. Stanfield began to contribute to the local papers printed in the vicinity of her home when but twelve years of age, her contributions creating no little interest. Soon her articles found their way into the columns of the New York Independent, and other papers of that character. In 1870 she was married in South Bend, to Howard Stanfield, son of Judge Stanfield, of that place. Mrs. Stanfield has usually contributed under the nom de plume of "Malcolm Duncan," though some of her best contributions have appeared over her own signature. In all mat- ters pertaining to literature and art, Mrs. Stanfield has taken great interest. She was chiefly instrumental in forming the "Pleiades Club," as well as the "Women's Literary Club," of South Bend. The following poem was written by Mrs. Stanfield when but thir- teen years of age, and gave token of the more mature thoughts and genins of later years:
MY DREAM.
I dreamed a dream of my childhood's home, And I'd tell it to you again, If my voice would obey the tune of my heart, And my soul would chant the strain. I would tell of the words trilled by gay-crested birds, Welcoming me home once more ;
And the warbling notes that laughed in their throats, Sounded as sweet as of yore.
I thought as I stood in a beautiful wood, All alone the while, While the heaven-crowned hills and the murmuring rills, Seemed to be bathed in a smile. Then the scene was changed, it seemed so strange, And I saw my home once more, And my father and mother, my sister and brother, Stood at the cottage door.
And my father smiled to his wayward child, That left him so long ago; My sister's face had lost none of its grace, Its beauty, or brow of snow ; My mother dear, that stood so near, I tried, but could hardly refrain To tell with a kiss, of the dreamlike bliss, That was mine to be with her again.
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My brother was there, and his nut brown hair, Had grown to a deeper hue, And as glossy and bright in that autumn light, As if wet with the morning dew. I heard a sweet sound, and my heart gave a bound : 'Twas the voice of my mother so dear; And the blue of her eyes, a tint from the skies Was dimmed with the mist of a tear.
A blessing she spoke, and the vision broke, And I was myself once more; But I asked from above for the kiss of love, In that dream of just before.
On the death of Charles Dickens, Mrs. Stanfield contributed to the South Bend Tribune the following beautiful tribute:
CHARLES DICKENS.
The gray old rocks are calling in the distance ; The English ivies twine ; Softly the chimes ring out with sweet persistence, A carol most divine.
For in the joyous chorus of their glory, Amid the tender tune, We learn of one who tells the Christmas story Where life is always June.
A atrange forgetfulness is stealing o'er us: Earth and its thousand cares, Fade 'mid the rhythm of that clanging chorus, And rest comes unawares.
We think of one-while wild the chimes are pealing- Whose heart was always young; Whose loving words brought life and joy and healing, Pure as the songs he sung.
Who fought the fight alike of high and lowly, For nothing was too small For him to love; the humblest thing was holy; Our Father made them all.
On English hills in dark and stormy weather, On sunny days as well, Amid the apringing grass and budding heather, We roam with little Nell.
And, sitting by the sea in bleak November, Paul Dombey by our side, The wild waves say to us: " Do you remember The day that Dickens died ?"
A shadow fell upon the earth that morning, An angel wept unseen ; He went with scarce a look or word of warning: Lord keep his memory green!
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The following was written by Mrs. Stanfield in honor of the tenth wedding anniversary of Mr. and Mrs. Schuyler Colfax :
0-5-10-25-50.
THE BRIDAL.
What gifts have the powers of the whole world wide, To bring to the feet of the new made bride ? The ocean is dragged for its pearls of white, The tropics send diamonds alive with light; But brighter than jewels that worldlings prize Are the glances of love from a hundred eyes; And dearer than ought on the earth beside Are the hearts of friends both true and tried, Who come from the ends of this world so wide And a blessing ask for the new-made bride. And Cupid sings till the skies resound, " 'Tis love that makes the world go 'round." True and tried ! true and tried ! Where can you find a gentler bride ?
FIVE YEARS.
Wood! wood ! wood ! wood ! Five happy years have the mountains stood, Five happy years have the seasons fled, And love is triumphant, and hate is dead; And blessings still follow the life so good, Who now wears the crown of motherhood, And a cradle of wood is the potent charm That keeps the heart of the household warm, And parries the thrust that would bring it harm. Wood! wood ! wood ! wood ! Five more years have the mountains stood.
TEN YEARS.
Tin! tin! tin! tin !. Beaten and molded and pounded thin, Tin that has heard the breakers roar Off the rugged coast of the Cornish shore. It comes to-night with a shining face The end of a long decade to grace; And though it is called but an humble ore It declares that it never will sorrow more, For it says, as it counts its blessings o'er, That the fates and the graces, though both combined, Could not give an honor more to its mind, Than the right to come, at the bride's request, To this happy home as on honored guest. 'Tis dark without; 'tis bright within. Tin! tin! tin! tin!
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TWENTY-FIVE YEARS.
Twenty-five! Twenty-five! May every one of us be alive When the wedding of silver shall arrive. 'Tis silver that crosses the gypsy's palm, 'Tis silver that acts as the beggars balm, 'Tis a silver moon that lights the dark When the sun goes down on the weary barque. And there is fillet or gem as rare To place on the brow of a matron fair As a wonderful wreath of silver hair. Twenty-five! Twenty-five! May every one of us be alive !
FIFTY YEARS.
Gold ! gold ! gold ! gold ! A heart of gold can never grow cold, A deed of gold can never grow old. The wedding ring is growing thin, And memories all that remain of tin, And friends are fewer and far more dear, And earth is fading and Heaven is near; And the church bells waiting that they may toll The breaking apart of the golden bowl. And the golden gates are opening wide For the happy steps of the groom and bride. Oh! the happiest part of the voyage long Will be when they hear the triumphant song Of Jerusalem the golden !
The following illustrating a hopeful trust is all that can be given of Mrs. Stanfield's poems:
SOME TIME.
Oh, hard and thorny road, Oh, great and heavy load, Stay by me while you can ; For life is but a span, And at the final mile My soul will look and smile, Some time.
Somewhere the waves are calm; Somewhere there is a balm For all the vague unrest That trembles in my breast; Somewhere the smile of God Will help me kiss the rod, Some time.
Oh, roses washed in dew, . Oh, violets so blue, Sometime the flowers I wear Will be so very fair That you will turn as pale As lilies of the vale, Some time.
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Oh, melodies so sweet, And harmonies complete, Of you I can but tire When thinking of the choir, That with celestial sound Will compass me around, Some time.
Oh, true and gentle friend, Whose patience knows no end, The tears are in my eyes At thoughts of Paradise, Where all the good of earth Will have a heavenly birth, Some time.
I do not ask to know How long before the glow Of promise and of rest Will glorify the west; To eyes upturned to heaven The vision will be given, Some time.
MISS ELEANOR J. WILSON.
The subject of this sketch was born in Ohio, and with her par- ents became a resident of South Bend in 1854. Quite early in life she manifested poetical talent which found expression in the local papers of South Bend and other places. Miss Wilson was for some years a teacher in the public schools of St. Joseph county, and sub- sequently followed her parents to California. As a specimen of her poetical genius the following poems are given:
"GO WORK TO-DAY IN MY VINEYARD."
"Go work in myvineyard,"-'tis Jesus commanding- For great is the harvest, the laborers few ; Then why all the day ye so idly are standing ? Go work, for there is something for each one to do.
Yes, truly, I see the white harvest is wasting, But what shall I do in thy vineyard so great ? Yet others to lahor are cheerfully hastening; Shall I, then, in doubting, stand idle and wait ?
Wherever we turn, there is labor before us, There's work for the hands, for the heart, and the mind. Superstition and darkness hang lowering o'er us, And error in blindness is leading the blind.
The world is o'erflowing with sorrow and anguish, The air is o'er burdened with misery's groans, And thousands in ignorance grovel and languish For the sunbeams of healing they never have known.
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Nor look we to Greece, nor to Islands Ionian, To find fellow-man in the darkness of night, For lo! from the South comes the cry Macedonian, " Come over and help us, we grope for the light !"
Yes, nearer at home there are minds to be liglited, And night's gloomy darkness to turn into day ; There are chains to be broken and wrongs to be righted, And the blind mists of error to scatter away.
Intemperance abroad through the nation is stalking, Sowing death, woe, and ruin all over the land, And many more evils our highways are walking, Ah! who will dare fight with this numerous band !
So much to be done, and so few that are doing, While Satan is busily sowing his tares, And the hosts of his servants, all broadcast, are strewing For the feet of the Christian, their pitfalls and snares.
Then let us to labor, no longer unheeding, And carelessly slighting our Sovereign's call,
But with armor of toil, let us cheerfully speeding Go work in the vineyard ; there's labor for all.
" AND THEN?"
The following poem, the anthor remarks, is based upon an inci- dent in which a youth was portraying in golden colors his future career through college and through life. He was interrupted after the close of each scene by his aged friend to whom he was talking, by the simple words, " And then?" After telling how he expected to spend his closing days-" And then?" inquired the old friend. "And then-and then"-the youth hesitatingly replied, "why, then, I suppose I shall die." " And then?" solemnly inquired the old man.
"And then ?- and then ? Ah, who'll reply To this momentous solemn thought ? What depths of meaning in it lie! 'Tis with eternal mesning fraught. Ah! mortal tongue can never show, And mortal eye can never see Its depths of meaning, while below; 'Twill take a long eternity.
Its hidden mysteries to reveal, Its awful weight of meaning show Its glorious heights of heavenly weal, Its everlasting depths of woe. An angel's tongue could never say What joy behind this question lies, Nor devil's powers e'er portray The fearful horror it implies.
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Ah! thoughtless youth ! with eager haste Drink down each eup of worldly joy ; But, though at first they please thy taste, Thou soon wilt find their pleasures eloy ; And lurking 'neath, within their depth, Amid the dregs thou soon wilt find, Are serpents sly, whose poisonous breath Will leave a lasting sting behind.
But is this life of folly all ? These disappointed hopes, and vain ? This wormwood, bitterness and all ? This aching void and weary pain ? Is man's aspiring thinking mind But as a ray of glimmering light,
A little while on earth to shine, And then be quenched in endless night ?
Ah, no! there's infinitely more Beyond Time's everehanging scene; Compared to that eternal shore, This life is but a fleeting dream. But what shall be the soul's employ When we've forever waked at last ? Eternal songs of praise and joy ? Or sorrow's wail o'er mercies past ?
O, very soon -- we know not when- ' We'll leave behind this earthly shore ; Well may we ask ourselves-And then, Ah! whither shall our spirits soar ? In ever rising scale, shall we Approach the glorious Lord of all ?
Or through a vast eternity, To lower depths forever fall ?
Why should earth's fleeting gilded toys Absorb the thoughts, and fill the mind Of those who, made for nobler joys, Must shortly leave them all bebind ? They're falling 'round us here and there; On every hand the warning's given Which bids us, solemnly,-Prepare !- Prepare to meet the God of Heaven.
Great God! 'tis Thou alone canst break The bands of darkness and of night; O, bid men's sleeping souls awake, And seek the gospel's glorious light. Let light dawn on them from above, Unseal their eyes, and bid them know They e're must rise to heights of love, Or ever sink to depths of woe.
PROF. T. E. HOWARD.
Timothy E. Howard was born near Ann Arbor, Michigan, Jan. 27, 1837. His childhood and early youth were passed in the healthful exercises of farming, with but little facilities for education till his seventeenth year, when he attended school for two terms in Ypsilanti, Michigan. At the age of eighteen he entered the
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University of Michigan as a student, where he remained till he had entered npon his sophomore year, but before its termination was obliged, in consequence of sickness in the family, to return home and assume the responsibilities of head of the family, a position which he had occupied since the death of his father some years previous. In the following year, having placed the family affairs on a firm footing, so as not to require his constant superintendence, he engaged as a teacher in the public schools, in which occupation he continued for two years. On reaching his majority he was elected School Inspector, which office he filled with credit to himself and advantage to all concerned for one year, after which he resigned, his aspiring mind urging him to seek a higher degree of culture than it had as yet attained. Accordingly, in the spring session of 1859, he entered Notre Dame University for the purpose of com- pleting his collegiate studies, at the same time engaging as a teacher in the preparatory classes.
In 1862 Mr. Howard, prompted by that lofty sense of patriotism which never allows personal convenience or interest to interfere with duty, enlisted as a private in the 12th Regiment Michigan Volunteers. On the 6th of April, at the battle of Shiloh, he received a severe bullet wound in the neck, the bullet passing close to the jugular vein and severing some of the tendons of the left arm. He was taken to the hospital at Evansville, Indiana, where he lay until June, when he was honorably discharged, his wound rendering him incapable for further service in the field.
After his discharge Mr. Howard returned to Notre Dame, and, as he had completed the required studies before he entered the army, received his first degree of Bachelor of Arts, and was appointed professor of rhetoric and English literature in the University. Two years later he received his second degree of Master of Arts.
In July, 1864, Prof. Howard was married to Miss Julia Redmond, of Detroit, Michigan. They have eight children now living.
Prof. Howard has always been a staunch Democrat and an ardent supporter of the principles and nominees of that party. In 1876, he was appointed chairman of the Democratic Congressional Com- mittee. In 1878 he was elected Clerk of the Circuit Court, and the same year was elected member of the City Council from the fourth ward, and re-elected in 1880. He is secretary, of the St. Edward's Land and Emigration Society, and also of the Wisconsin Land and Emigration Society.
As a teacher, Prof. Howard is not only well qualified as respects knowledge, but he has the peculiar tact of gaining the affections of his classes. He possesses, moreover, in a high degree, those refined qualities which make the pleasing and instructive writer. He is the author of three works which have met with good sale-" A Grammar of the English Language," for the use of beginners, "Excelsior; or Essays on Politeness and Education," and a small volume of moral tales for the young, entitled " Uncle Edward's
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Stories." He has also written many excellent poems, which appeared from time to time in various journals and periodicals. As illustrative of his prose writings, the following extract is taken from an essay on "True Education," by Prof. Howard:
" Education, in its broadest and best sense, signifies the har- monious development of all the powers of man. Man, by his nature, consists of body, soul and mind (the physical, the moral, and the intellectual), strength, love and wisdom. The mind forms, as it were, the link between the body and the soul, giving expression to the feelings, thoughts and aspirations of each, but partaking chiefly of the character of the soul, of which it is the intellectual manifes- tation-triune nature, whose true culture form the crown of the visible creation-a complete man. How important, therefore, that we should consider well by what means we may best promote the development of this wonderful organism given us by the all-wise Creator! Nor is it strange that good men in all ages have thought it their first duty and highest pleasure to provide for the education of their people.
" As man is composed of body, mind and soul, so his education should be physical, mental and moral. He who is trained in one of these respeets to the exclusion of the others is, properly speak- ing, not edneated. The extraordinary development of the physical powers, with little attention to the mind or sonl, gives us the mere bully and prize fighter. The extraordinary development of the mind, with little regard to the body or soul, gives us the lean, lank infidel or the dreaming philosopher, turning the world upside down with their wickedness or nonsense, and leaving to sounder and better men the weary task of building it all over again. While the extraordinary development of the soul, with little care for mind or body, gives us the simple enthusiast, whose mind and body are too weak to hold the spirit, which becomes an angel because he disdained to remain a man. Educating our lower natures only, makes us lower than men-brutes; educating our intellectual nature only makes us worse than men-demons; educating our moral nature only, makes ns better than men-angels. But if we wish to remain simply men, we must educate tlie whole nature of man. This education must be harmonious, moving together, all the powers receiving due attention in their turn. As the body acquires vigor, agility and grace, the mind must acquire strength, wisdom and knowledge, and the soul purity, truth and charity. Men thus educated are models of beauty, lords of wisdom, and friends of God. Such were Adam and Eve before the fall, perfect without education from the hand of their Maker-Adam, type of manly strength and proportion ; Eve, fairest of women-whose minds were bright with intelligence, and whose souls were pure as the morning dews of Paradise.
Adam the goodliest man of men since born His sons; the fairest of her daughters, Eve.
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"They walked the groves and valleys, mountains and flowery fields of Eden, vigorous as the noonday, lovely as the morning. Looking out on all nature, they read as in a book; the green earth and the starry heavens were the bright open pages on which the words formed into histories and poems more grand and beautiful than sage ever penned or poet dreamed. Day and night their hearts, not thinking evil, rose to God an endless hymn of praise. But they fell, and ever since their fall the world has been educating in the sublime endeavor to return to those model types fashioned by the hand of divinity."
The following poems are given as showing what Prof. Howard is capable of in that line:
CHIIMES OF NOTRE DAME.
Beauty's spirit lingers O'er the spot I love ; Well I know that angel fingers Paint the blue above; Well I know they listen To the vesper song, When the silent planets glisten As they float along ; Listen to the chiming Praises of the Lamb,
As they tremble from the rhyming Bells of Notre Dame.
Swell, ye sounds caressing, On the midnight air, All this silence bathed in blessing Woke to God in prayer; Wearied man is sleeping From the toilsome day,
Tune the soft dreams o'er him creeping, Music, watch and pray ! Lo, the forest looming On the distant calm Echoes back your silvery boomning, Bells of Notre Dame !
When the morning lightens On the eastern sky, And the spire-top glows and brightens As the sun rolls high, Shed your peals to duty O'er the earth impearled, Give the sparkling morning beauty Tongue to rouse the world. As your songs of gladness, Matin hymn and psalm, Wake our souls and cheer their sadness, Bells of Notre Dame !
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