He mentions the 19th birthday of his sister, Ethel Hill Chase (Bonnell) and his first impressions of Annie Thompson, who was to become his wife in 1890. Annie was born in Williamsport, PA, in 1868, the child of Julia and Thomas U. Thompson. Ethel and Annie were students at Wellesley College at the time of this journal.
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Diary entries written by Harold Taylor Chase:
(for his biography, see the entry of January 2, 2016)
Diary
Harold T. Chase
No. 9, Thayer Hall
Harvard College
Cambridge, Mass.
Thursday, January 1, 1885
When the new year came this morning at one minute past midnight, I was in the dining-room of the Valley House, dancing in the Assembly. This was the pleasantest of all the parties to me. I danced twenty-three out of the twenty-five dances. Took Jess Swoyer who is one of the most entertaining and sensible girls in our set. Richards -- who is spending the holidays with me -- took Ethel. Had a bully time ! We got home at a quarter before five o’clock and then went to bed. This afternoon we got up at about one o’clock, ate breakfast, and at two, started out calling. Called first at W. L. Conyngham’s where we found at breakfast the family with Minnie Emory, Helen Conyngham, her two friends, Price, Hattie and Mame Lynch, Edith Fuller and Louis Hall of New Haven. Was introduced to Hull, who is an ass. Had a pleasant call.
Then, left cards C.M. Conynham’s, and at Swoyers who had gone to the theatre. Then, went down to Reiman’s who had a basket out, but received us and gave us a very jolly time; Jess R. and Emma Snodgrass received us. Left cards at Palmer’s and at Harding’s; then called at Phelp’s. Left cards at Shoemaker’s and at Mrs. Emory’s. Called on Mrs. Sheldon Reynolds who had Miss Stella Loop and Minnie Sterling receiving with her. Called at Parrish’s where Nan had Edith and Lou Lynch, Nan Brastow, Nan Leavenworth, Lou Palmer and Bessie Mercur to receive with her. Left cards at Darling’s and Grace Derr’s and then called finally on Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Bedford and Mrs. Hand.
In the evening, John Richards, whom I found at Hand’s, came over and played whist with mother, Richards and me. Afterwards, Richards and I took a walk and smoked a cigar. Ethel went in a theatre-party with the Parrish’s to see Rhea.
To bed at about eleven o’clock, tired out.
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Friday, January 2, 1885
Got up very late this morning after a good night’s rest. Read in “Middlemarch” during most of the day. Richards reads to Ethel from “Ben Hur” while they are in the house, so I am rather left out. Sam has heard them read some, and having become interested in the story, he sits down to listen to them, following them half- mechanically from room to room when they move. Mother and I secretly joke about it, and the others don’t understand why we laugh when we address Sam as “the Chaperone.”
In the evening all went down to Nan Leavenworth’s and stayed for an hour or more. Jess Rieman, Edith L., Emma Snodgrass and Nan were there -- and Blake, Ryman, Richards, Bud Palmer, Ethel and myself. Had a pleasant sort of time.
College term begins tomorrow again, and I should be there to recite. Sid goes back tomorrow and will be ready for Monday’s work; Bud goes on Monday and Richards, Ethel, Lou and I go back on Tuesday. Bud hates to travel in a crowd because he fears to lose some dignity in public; dignity is what he thinks he has too little of, I suppose. We always have fun travelling in a crowd; and Bud never enters into it with any spirit at all. So, he will go back one day earlier than the rest of us.
Snow is fast disappearing, and we will probably have no more fine coasts down the mountain before the holidays go out. That mountain-coast is no common-place matter ! People talk of going “like the wind”; we distance the wind in that ride down, down, down; comp! whizz!, we fly over a water-break, and then throw the light snow into a mist as we whirl round the “Devil’s Elbow.” It is great sport !
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College re-opened today.
Saturday, January 3, 1885
Ethel and Richards keep up their reading aloud in Ben Hur - Ethel’s eyes trouble her - so I have to shift for myself. At noon father and I went up on the mountain, and I saw the house for the first time since improvement have been made. The basement rooms are entirely new, and the old dining room and kitchen are metamorphosed into bedrooms for Sam and me. The house has been much improved on the upper floor too, and is almost a model of a dainty little mountain cottage.
It is very cold, so we had to make a fire and melt snow to get water: for the pump is frozen up. By dint of pouring much warm water - melted from snow - down the cold pump’s nozzle, we managed to persuade the pump, after it went through much groaning and growling against such an unseasonable procedure, to provide us with a pailful of delicious, cold water.
The town below looked as snug as a caterpillar, wrapped up in its white cocoon of snow, and nestling comfortably between the mountains. Father and I enjoyed the scene so much that we let the train go off without us, so had to walk down to town. It was frightfully slippery coming down the steep, icy short-cut to the turnpike and several times we barely escaped a heavy fall by wrenching our heads and backs up against a tree or stump. As we were sliding and slipping along I saw some very peculiar sky-blue moss of the side of the path. Father suggested that we gather it and put it in our empty lunch-basket, as a curiosity well worth the trouble. This we did; and in all my tumblings for the remainder of the walk, I preserved the valuable basket’s equilibrium with the utmost care. At home, to surprise Mother, we placed the moss carefully in some flower-pots and arranged it around the flowers. In handling it in the warm room, however, I noticed a peculiar odor - it was frozen paint dropped by our painters.
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Sunday, January 4, 1885
Last night we went over to Lynch’s and got Edith to come over and play whist with us.
I have a bad cold and so stayed home from church and S. School. Last Sunday I went to Edith Brower’s class where we studied that most beautiful chapter, the last of Ecclesiastes.
Miss Edith is not a half-bad teacher; she is also a cultured woman of much intelligence.
Fan and Sam came home from church with loud charges against Ethel and Richard’s behaviour in the sanctuary! It seems those disreputable persons talked and giggled and commented all through the sermon, instead of listening and respectfully drinking in the wisdom which flowed in streams from the pulpit. I hope Mr. Hodge didn’t observe their very reprehensible conduct. Mother was not well enough to attend church - so father going off with the ostensible purpose of getting in the mail before attending church - did gather in the mail but neglected to come in when the bell announced divine service. This also came out in the report of the two youngest, and mother and I had the satisfaction of berating everybody for misbehaviour.
Read in “Middlemarch” during the forenoon and in the evening. It interests me more than any other of George Eliot’s novels yet. The characters are so splendidly described, and the story is so interesting that, as a whole, the book is certainly one of the author’s best.
Harry Harding, Geo. North, and Geo. Miller called in the afternoon. In the evening we talked and read. Tomorrow we pack our trunks, and on the day after we start for Cambridge - for home, as I sometimes miscall it; for it does seem like home; I am there during such a large part of the year.
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Monday, January 5, 1885
In forenoon packed trunk, preparatory to starting back to Cambridge tomorrow. Called on Mrs. Palmer, and had a pleasant talk with her. Bud went back today. In afternoon, called on Mrs. Miner. In evening, Harry Harding and I had a very pleasant call with Mr. Hodge. Afterward, stopped in and talked to Lou Palmer awhile. Mrs. Palmer and Miss Mary Slosson and Burt (?) Hillard called.
Today is our last at home this winter. We have had a thoroughly delightful vacation; went to three out of a possible four large parties, and had fun meantime. At no other year would Richards have enjoyed a visit to W.-B. as much as he enjoyed this one. He went to the only party we missed -- the “Hodge Podge” at Glen Summit -- which occurred on the day after little Frank Taylor died. Frank’s death was from complications of troubles which came on when his blood was in so poor a condition that he couldn’t recover. He was a fine young fellow, very different from Will. He died on Christmas morning; Mother sat up with him the night before, and shortly after midnight he woke up and asked what time it was. They told him it was after twelve. “Then it is Christmas!”, he said, and continued to cry out “Merry Christmas, Sam! Merry Christmas !” He talked more of Sam than of anyone else during his illness; and his last words before he died were, I believe, “Merry Christmas, Sam “. Aunt Amelia is nearly heart-broken. Frank was an exceptionally good-hearted, conscientious, and generous boy, with a very cheerful disposition. He was only about 13 years old.
Our call on Dr. Hodge tonight was a very pleasant one. Mr. H is very bright and witty, and told some first class stories. He has had very hard luck lately, losing a child not long after his wife died. His eldest daughter too is believed to have consumption -- his wife’s trouble.
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Back to college
Tuesday, January 6, 1885
Up at 7:30 am this morning. The ‘bus called for us at 8, and we were off for college again.
At New York met Miss Hand and “Mim” Jadwin who went with us. (i.e., Richards, Lou Palmer, Ethel and I) to Boston, via the Fall River boat. Had a very pleasant trip.
The ride from W.-Barre to New York was a trifle tedious to me. For the first dozen miles we talked; then for a while we went out of the last platform and sang college songs - which was rather pleasant, especially as the day was not very cold. We were singing thus as the train rumbled along past Fairview, when on a sudden turn in the road we came into all the beauty of the low, jagged mountains covered with snow; and through the vista caught a glimpse of our own valley, nestling among the hills, with its ice-covered river glistening in the bright morning sunlight. It was a sight that for a moment hushed me in my efforts to struggle along with the bass to some senseless song. Oh, for the power to describe on paper or canvas some of the rare beauties of nature! I would like to perpetuate in pen and ink the charmingness of that momentary view. I can appreciate the happiness of being a great poet of nature -- such as Wordsworth. Such a man can have the felicity of tracing on paper an almost perfect image of the lovely pictures that nature stamps on our earth. To see that mountain picture this morning was a rare pleasure for a moment; but to me, who am utterly powerless to immortalize it, it is gone forever. To Wordsworth, it would have been the means of giving lasting pleasure for all the world. -- On the boat tonight we had great fun -- eating our lunch all in two communicating state rooms -- telling stories - singing - and joking. It was fun of first quality. To bed at about 11 o’clock.
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Gap
Wednesday, February 4, 1885
Up at 8:15 and attended chapel before breakfast. After breakfast, read all morning in “Never Too Late to Mend.” In afternoon spent an hour at Aunt Carrie’s. Ada seems easy; but her throat is more inflamed than it was yesterday. Mr. Parker told me some reminiscences of politics during the War and earlier. He is about 75 years old and remembers pretty far back in our history. In evening finished “Never Too Late to Mend” which is one of the greatest novels I ever read. As usual in his novels, Charles Reade has an object in writing; the object of this book is clearly a reform in the management of prisons. The author strongly opposes solitary confinement, declaring it to be “an impious and mad attempt to defy God’s will as written on the face of man’s nature, to crush too those very instincts from which rise communities, cities, laws, prisons, churches, civilization, and to wreck souls and bodies by turning one key on each prisoner instead of on a score.” He believes in teaching prisoners a diversity of trades such that each prisoner shall find a trade to which he is fitted. He is fiercely against cruelty toward prisoners, and thinks that kindness and sympathy will work miracles with them. The book also deals with the discovery of gold in Australia, which discovery is made by the hero of the story.
The weather has grown much milder in twenty-four hours, and now the snow is melting fast. A drizzle began at three o’clock and kept up with intermissions all the rest of the day. Sleighing won’t last much longer at this rate.
Wrote Uncle Stuart thanking him for my check which came yesterday.
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Thursday, February 5, 1885
Up at 8:20 - Chapel before breakfast - paid bursar fifty dollars on next term bill. Read Gen. Grant’s article in the current “Century” on the battle of Shiloh. The sketch is more authoritatively, and less interestingly, written than such articles usually are. Spent rest of morning in reading “Mill on the Floss”, and in answering a note from Bob Webber which came this afternoon. Received also a postal from Aunt Lizzie Kimball asking me in Grandma Chase’s name to come up to Haverhill for the rest of the week.
In afternoon read along in “Mill on the Floss” while going into, and out from Boston on the horse carts. Mill on the Floss isn’t very interesting, at least for the first half-dozen chapters.
It differs in that from “Never Too Late to Mend” which is thoroughly interesting from beginning to end. Charles Reade in all his stories seems so eager to get into the heart of the tale, that he throws aside all rhetorical flourish and even violates literary laws for the first chapter or two, in order to give his reader only the bare necessary data for understanding the story; but George Eliot loiters along, describes all the details and unessentials with as much care and grace as if they were the turning-point of the story - this, I think, is a great fault of the novelist, and a strongly marked fault in the great Thackeray. People as a rule haven’t time to spend in reading five or six hundred pages of one novel; reading stories is a recreation, not a business.
In evening Allan came in for awhile. He is boarding on North Avenue while Ada is ill. I invited him to spend as much of his evening here as he pleased - it is dull for him where he is now. Wrote three daily themes for English 12 - this work begins again next Monday and I must take time by the forelock and get a few themes ahead in case of a “rainy day” - or an overslept morning. Read in “Mill on the Floss”
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(Typist’s note: he has a maddening habit of putting “ over . and I refuse to make his decisions for him.)
Friday, February 6, 1885
Up at 8 o’clock - Chapel - read in Mill on the Floss which is becoming more interesting, and a stronger work with every chapter. When “George Eliot” gets her great mind at work behind a pen the effect is grand. Her thorough knowledge of character, and of how subtle characteristics show themselves in one’s daily commonplace doings - is unrivaled in any other novelist. Her works are psychological studies. She analyzes the working of the mind with an ease and accuracy that are unapproachable. The personages of her stories are always flesh-&-blood. They breathe; we see them and hear them as fully as if they stood physically out before us. I think it is in this wonderful appreciation of character, and in her clear grasp of one’s mental life, that give George Eliot her great eminence among novelists. No other authors’ novels make my brain try to think, as her’s do. Her stories combine interesting narrative with the most highly instructive essays on living.
This afternoon Lillian Parker and I went to see a cyclorama painting of the Battle of Gettysburg. The painting is 400 feet long, and 50 feet high; each figure is life-size and the whole thing is exhibited in a brick building made expressly for it. I have never seen many very fine paintings; so I don’t say much for this one by declaring it the finest one I ever saw. The artist lived on the battlefield of Gettysburg for several months and studied all the books that describe the action of July 1-3, 1864. General Hancock and others also have given him facts. He then went home to Paris and in two years had finished the work. It is wonderfully life-like. - Ada Chase is getting better and expects to be out of bed tomorrow. -- Richards and Allan in during the evening. - Read George Eliot
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Saturday, February 7, 1885
Ride to Wellesley and back
Up at 8:25. Just time for chapel before breakfast. Got a book for Allan out of the library. Spent forenoon in reading Mill on the Floss.
In the afternoon at 2:15 Sid and I took a horse and cutter, and drove out through Watertown and Newton and to Lasell Seminary, where one poor solitary girl in a corner room on the third floor waved her handkerchief at us feebly and half-hopelessly, as if she had given up heart and resigned herself to solitary confinement from worldly pleasures - and from masculine society in particular. I felt solid sympathy with her and waved sadly back - rather half-heartedly too, for there were lots of visitors coming and going who cast an evil eye on our pleasant little flirtation. - From Auburndale we decided to journey on as far as Wellesley, as we had just about time to there and back before sunset. On to Wellesley we went, and soon passed a score of girls (Lasell?) on a straw-ride. They hailed us pleasantly, and we responded with a cheerful wave of the hat and a condescending “Ah! Girls” which must have knocked them out in one round. At last, just as the clock was getting up courage to strike four - it was numbingly cold - our tired nag pulled us into the village of Wellesley; and, not having time to call on the girls, we pulled up at the post-office, and Sid wrote notes to Ethel (Ethel Chase, Harold’s sister) and Gertrude Woodcock, while I aired our fiery steed to keep her from catching cold after the long jaunt. When the notes were mailed, off we started again to drive past the School twice before going back to Cambridge; - in vain, however, for our eyes were not brightened by the sight of a familiar feminine face and the unfamiliar ones didn’t recognize us. - We reached home again at 5:30 - too late for me to accept Richard’s invitation to a dinner at Young’s. - In evening Sid took in theatre. I read.
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Sunday, February 8, 1885
Up at 9:05 and just got to breakfast in time. The doors were already closed; but there was still some food not yet “sent down”. Once “sent down”, edibles are forever gone to the tardy diner at Memorial Hall. Food thus departed never returns; where it goes, only those who dwell below can tell - it performs some useful function; for they never waste at Memorial !
Church at Dr. Mackenzie’s. He preached one of his usual fine sermons - though not a remarkably fine one, for he is not feeling in the best health. The text was from Job. - After church I took in an interesting service at Mr. Barrel’s bible-class. The lesson could not but be interesting, for it was (Acts XXI) Paul’s last visit to Jerusalem.
After lunch, Brodhead came in and spent an hour or two. I finished reading “Mill on the Floss”, which has done me good. The character of “Maggie Tulliver” is the one I should fall in love with on least provocation: and her honesty, simplicity, strong, affectionate humanity which was the cause of her few great mistakes in life - must compel admiration. When you see how great her love for human-kind is it is not hard to understand that one whose virtues are so many and genuine should - so paradoxically - profess herself in love with “Philip Wakem” when speaking with him (a hunch-back for whom she mistakes her loving pity and sympathy to be “love”), and shortly afterward confess her love for “Stephen Guest”. The story has a tragic but beautiful ending; the best one the author could invent, I think.
This evening wrote to Mother and Bertha White; Wiestling, ‘87, made us a very pleasant call for several hours. He is a decidedly nice fellow; knows Emma Snodgrass and Touse Beaumont slightly. - Bed tonight at 12 o’clock.
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Monday, February 9, 1885
Handed in daily theme.
Up at 8. Chapel, Pol. Econ. 1, German 3, and Eng 12
After English 12, hurried over to lunch, and then went into Boston with Sid and took the 2:15 train for Wellesley. Ethel was waiting for us and received us at the School. We sat and talked awhile, then suggested a walk. Ethel asked Miss Eastman’s permission - which was decidedly refused. Pretty soon in came Miss Bunce and Miss Campbell who had been out riding on “bobs”, a sport - or mode of exercise rather - that Miss Eastman approves of. Her sense of the proper revolts strongly against a girl’s walking with her brother and his chum! - However, we had a mighty pleasant talk with the three girls. Miss Bunce and Miss Campbell looked awfully pretty after such lively exercise. They are very charming girls. - After they had left us, Ethel brought in Miss Emory and Miss Thompson - both mighty nice girls but Miss Thompson has the prettiest manners and is the most thoroughly jolly girl that I have ever met. But alas! I suspect she is engaged, - or as bad as engaged! - If those girls were only nearer Cambridge! Life is decidedly “worth living” now; but in such a case it would be worth even the dreadfully mysterious leave that everyone has to take of it at last. - But such serious cogitations didn’t occupy our heads this afternoon; we gabbled and chattered and laughed and just absorbed the deliciousness of the occasion till suppertime! Imagine a fellow at college seeing no girls worth seeing for about a month, and then in a moment being surrounded by a half-dozen of the most charming maidens, who make his wits sparkle - if he has any. - We went down to supper with them all, and afterward tried to sustain the novel-sounding bass in the chapel singing. At 7 o’clock about thirty of us - two boys among the crowd - piled in a big sleigh and were driven to the college where we had to say goodbye to the Dana Hall girls, and listen to a concert with the College girls. -- Back to Cambridge at 1 o’clock am.
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Tuesday, February 10, 1885
Handed in daily theme
Up at 8:40 by sound of the chapel bell. Cut chapel and Philosophy I
Wrote letter to Ethel about our trip yesterday to Wellesley. - Haven’t smoked for a week; so began again today. - In Boston this aft. and got some German 3 text-books.
Had long letters this morning from Mother and Jess Swoyer. Jess speaks of a sleighride party and the skating-rink as the only excitements of the season at home. I am glad to be out of the dull town; but sha’n’t object to go back again next June. - Mother mentioned Thompson Derr’s death. There is not much news stirring.
Boyden, ‘86, called tonight to persuade me to go on the 2d eight of the Pi Eta. They offered me a sure position on the 1st eight, which I declined, when that eight was chosen - so guess I sha’n’t go on this crowd. Told him I should if Smithy would. Boyden wants to go out to Dana Hall. He has met three or four of the girls there, and is anxious to meet more of them. Nice fellow; shall probably go out with him some day. - By gad! Those girls leave a taste in a fellow’s mouth for a week after he has spent an aft. with them. They are the first I have yet met who come very near beating our girls at home for general charmingness! - Ethel’s birthday comes off next Monday, when I shall go out again. Then on the Friday following the school holds a Reception which I shall “take in” with considerable vim. The society of such a crowd of girls must have a good influence on a fellow’s character, - and behaviour as well, - that is the theoretical reason which persuades me to call there occasionally; - very damp and foggy this morning; cleared off beautifully in aft. And is freezing hard tonight. Got midyear mark in Philosophy I - 79 - Pretty good.
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Wednesday, February 11, 1885
Handed in daily theme
Up at 8:07 Chapel and Pol. Econ. I Cut German 3
Read an hour in Herder’s “Cid” - a very entertaining poem, very easy to read in the original. - Read an hour in the library in the “Harvard Book” - book with which all Harvard med should be familiar. - In aft. wrote a daily theme for tomorrow’s Eng. 12. - Allan and his friend Mulford called.
Very bitter outside today. The thermometer is low and the wind is high - a combination which makes thick fancy-sketches on the window panes, and causes one’s cheeks to rival the beet in redness.
In evening Richards and Porter in. Wrote daily themes for tomorrow. - Wrote to Bob Webber who says he can’t go out to Wellesley with me next Monday. To Ethel also, enclosing a velvet ribbon I found on the floor at Dana Hall. Wrote also a letter to Grandma Chase in answer to her invitation to spend a few days at Haverhill. - Last night Uncle Stuart and Aunt Addie started south - Uncle S. to do some auditing in Georgia, and Aunt A. to visit Mrs. and Miss. Wilson in Florida. They will be gone probably till the middle of March.
Read a few pages in Goethe’s “Wahrheit and Dichtung” which is pretty tough German. Francke expects us to read the book for practise - besides doing the regular work of the course.
Yesterday forenoon completed a week since I stopped smoking; and so I began again yesterday afternoon, and have smoked so much since that my mouth and tongue are sore and rough.
Subscribed to the next volume of the Advocate for the ensuing half-year. The Advocate has very greatly deteriorated in the past three years. Scarcely anybody reads it now; everybody used to.
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Thursday, February 12, 1885
Up at 7:55. Chapel, daily theme and Philosophy I.
In the forenoon, read in Philosophy and Goethe’s autobiography. In afternoon called on Aunt Carrie for a couple of hours. Ada is well but is kept in the house. Received letters from Ethel and Lou Palmer - the latter’s asking me to send her some college songs.
Handed in today in Eng. 12 a daily theme on our ride to Wellesley last Saturday. These daily themes are almost equivalent to a page-full in this diary; we have to hand them in every day of the week, except Sunday, as they count very much on our annual mark in the course. The discipline of such work done regularly is, of course, excellent; it is especially good as a preparation for journalism, or, in a less degree, for any literary profession. The subject-matter of the daily theme is usually very uninteresting; a fellow soon runs out of topics - but the habit of writing so much every day, even if what he writes isn’t worth the reading, soon shows its effect in a very notable increase in facility with the pen. I think it tends to make us prolix, for we have to string along a page-full of sentences with no particular sense in them sometimes; our object generally is to write enough words to fill a given space. But Wendell, the instructor, says he notices a marked improvement in our expression, vocabulary and general readiness in writing. After reading each man’s themes for the past four months, Wendell has written criticism on each one’s style which he will give us tomorrow. Two of my greatest faults I already know; I am verbose, and I lack clearness. I feel sure Wendell will mention those two faults tomorrow.
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Friday, February 13, 1885
Up at 8. Attended Chapel - daily theme - German 3. Cut Pol. Econ. I. - Attended English 12. - wrote to mother.
In afternoon went into Boston and got a birthday present for Ethel. Sent valentine to Fan. Got hair cut. Read in “Wahrheit und Dichtung,” and ground on Pol. Econ. Earlier played whist in Porter’s room.
My daily theme today was about a vague-colored and very baggy pair of trousers I got last fall, which the boys have christened, after the eminent slugger, “John L. Sullivan”. To choose such a subject shows how hard it is to think of any topic for these themes. Sometimes the most absurd, dry-looking, subjects yield the best themes. One fellow in the course wrote a very fine theme on his sofa. Wendell read it in class as one of the best and most entertaining bits of description that we have given him this year. My theme on the “John L’s” is not a good one; but it is not nearly so poor or flat as many that I have written on more interesting subjects. -- This forenoon Wendell lectured to us on narrative writing, in English 12. Read also a very good theme by S. D. Richardson, ‘86, on “Description”. Wendell himself has a novel in press, and his remarks on method in novel-writing were the more interesting on that account. - Wendell is well satisfied with the results of the daily-theme scheme as shown in our examination. He conducts also an advanced class in composition who are - he says - much much better writers of careful and labored work; the do no daily themes. And in the examination both classes were required to write an extemporaneous theme in a limited time. The members of English 12 used all the time given, and wrote rather poor themes; while we, as a class, spent less time on the work and produced the best themes of the whole year! Wendell justly ascribes this to the habit of daily, regular work.
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Saturday, February 14, 1885
Up at about 8. Chapel and Philosophy I - daily theme. Got Les Miserables from the library. Read in Philosophy I during forenoon. Letter from Ethel. “Valentine’s Day” Ground hard for several hours on “Wahrheit und Dichtung,” and wrote synopsis of first thirty pages. Richards and Brodhead in.
Tomorrow, for the first Sunday since the college was started in 1636, we students are not required to attend church. The Faculty have advocated abolishing this requirement, which has long been practically a dead-letter, for several years. The students have urged the same thing; and a large majority of the parents have also favored it: finally the Overseers, after resisting these appeals for a long time, have succumbed; and henceforth we are at liberty to cut church as often as we please. There will not be a noticeable falling off in church attendance; but there will be fifty percent less of lying in the college. Few fellows have attended church who didn’t want to; a great many fellows who would not lie about anything else have lied every year about church cuts. The old regulation didn’t make them attend church; but they cut right along, and at the end of the year declared on paper that they cut only six times - for heretofore we have been allowed six cuts. Besides these six cuts, a fellow could generally get excused from attendance on any Sunday by the mere asking, without any real reason for absence. - I am glad of the old rule’s abolishment not because it will give me a chance to cut, but because I shall not have to keep a list of my absences. I am always regular in church attendance; but now I shan’t be compelled to let the Faculty know when I cut - which has been a veritable nuisance for two years.
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Sunday, February 15, 1885
8:50 Attended church, and sat with Allan and Aunt Carrie’s sister Lilian in the gallery.
Afterward Sundayschool in Mr. Barrel’s Bible Class, as usual. In aft. wrote letter to Jess Swoyer and to father. In evening read in Richard’s room awhile. Bed early
Dr. MacKenzie as usual preached a fine sermon. His test was from John XII, where Mary washes the feet of Jesus with the Spikenard from her alabaster box. The sermon very forcibly and eloquently advised us in great questions, especially (though not exclusively) in the questions which appealed strongly to the heart, to act not on the side which seemed, after the most careful scrutiny, to have perhaps the stronger arguments in its favor; but to act on the deeper, more convincing, impulse of the voice within us. He would not have anyone blindly obey a momentary impulse, springing from excitement; but he believed that the inner conviction, which often restrains one from believing logical arguments that seem sound and true, is the voice of the higher nature born of God. If Mary had, Judas-like, first weighed arguments for and against breaking her precious alabaster, and pouring its costly contents - the price of 300 day’s labor in those days - upon the feet of Jesus, the deed would never have been performed. But acting on the impulse of her heart, which convinced her against all the force of argument that her deed was noble and heroic, she hesitated not a moment; and was commended by our highest authority. Dr. MacKenzie’s application of the sermon to our daily living, and particularly to the Christian life, was beautiful and forcible. He believed that every sincere man who was not actually convinced against Christianity, while honestly weighing the pro and con arguments - feels within him a voice which tells him that he ought to accept it. Like the ticking of the clock it says to him - “You ought! You must ! I ought! I must !”
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Ethel’s nineteenth Birthday
Monday, February 16, 1885
Cut theme and all lectures today.
7:20 Went into Boston at 8:30 and took 9:15 train to Wellesley. Richards with me. Coasted in forenoon and afternoon; in evening attended concert at college with Ethel and Miss Thompson. Had any amount of fun! The girls are simply great! - Got back to Cambridge about an hour after midnight; as our train was late from Wellesley.
(Typist note: in this section of the diary, he adopted the practise of putting down a summary of the day followed by the details of the day’s events.)
We saw Ethel at school this forenoon, and went with her up to College where Lou Palmer met us - and we all - with Hattie Hand and some other girl whose name I forget - went coasting in the college-grounds. The coasting was rather slow. Ethel put us up a first-class lunch from her birthday box, and we ate it in depot before going with Lou Palmer, Mim Jadwin, Hattie Hand, Miss Woodcock, Miss Darlington, Miss Williams and Miss Smeeler (?) to Wellesley Hills to coast. The coasting was only fair, and we came back in a blinding snow-storm, hanging behind a “bob” which brought us into Wellesley. Then went up to the school and talked for an hour with Miss Bunce and later with Miss Eastman. She invited us to tea; but we didn’t accept. In evening we went up to the college-concert where I had a magnificent time! Met Miss Wells of Cambridge, and Miss Piersons. Miss Thompson sat with me, and Miss Wells, Miss Woodcock, I, Miss Thompson, Richards, Ethel and Lou Palmer filled the back row in the chapel. The concert was pretty fair; but I found Miss Thompson a good deal fairer and more entertaining. She is about the prettiest and the handsomest girl at the school; and she has, I think, the most agreeable, fascinating, engaging manners, - which combined with a delightful smile captivate a fellow before he has a chance to defend himself! - Miss Campbell appeared only for a few minutes today; she is lovely. She and Miss Thompson entertained Richards and me respectively this morning for a few minutes while Ethel was upstairs. - Our train from Wellesley was so late that it was after half past eleven when we reached Boston. 12:30 at Cambridge.
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Tuesday, February 17, 1885
7:45 Attended chapel - daily theme - cut Philosophy I - Smithy got back from his grandmother’s funeral yesterday. She died just ten months from the day on which his mother died last year. Poor Smithy has awfully hard luck! His two sisters are away and his father has had to give up housekeeping. Smithy was telling me all about it this morning; he said that he was frightfully homesick last night.
Boyden came around this morning to see Smithy and me about joining the Pi Eta. Each of us had promised to go on if the other would; and as Boyden said we had a cold thing of it, we said we would go. The election comes off next Friday, and the “running” begins next Tuesday. The running is what I hate about … (end of the portion of Harold’s journal in my possession).
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| Ethel Hill Chase in 1882, Age 16 |
