E. P. Roe: Reminiscences of his LifeRoe, Mary A. (Mary Abigail)
History
E. P. Roe: Reminiscences of his Life
Roe, Mary A. (Mary Abigail)
Roe, Edward Payson, 1838-1888
"Now Mr. Roe's fiction has been very severely criticised, but it
has been universally read. For myself I would rather minister to
the higher life of ten thousand people than win the plaudits of one
self-appointed critic. And his novels have been universally read
because they have uniformly ministered to the higher life of the
readers. He has ministered to the life not of ten thousand, or of
one hundred thousand, but of thousands of thousands, for his
readers in this country alone are numbered by the millions. And I
venture to say that no man, woman, or child ever read through one
of Mr. Roe's books and arose without being bettered by the reading,
without having a clearer faith, a brighter hope, and a deeper and
richer love for his fellow man. In one sense he was a realist. He
made careful and painstaking study of all the events which he
attempted to describe.... He was not a mere photographer. He saw
the grandeur that there is in life. He felt the heart that beats in
a woman's bosom and the heart that beats in a soldier's breast. He
felt it because his own heart had known the purity of womanhood and
the courage of manhood. He portrayed something of that purity,
something of that courage, something of that divine manhood,
because he possessed the qualities that made him a hero on the
battlefield, and so made him a preacher of heroism in human life.
This is the man we have come here to honor to-day; the man who by
his imagination linked the real and the ideal together; the man who
has enabled thousands of men and women of more prosaic nature than
himself to see the beauty and the truth--in one word, the
divinity--that there is in human life.
"It is fitting that you should have chosen a rural scene like this
as a monument to his name; for he may be described by the title of
one of his books, as the one who lived near to nature's heart. He
loved these rocks, these hills. It is fitting that you should have
left these woods as nature made them. He cared more for the wild
bird of the grove than for the caged bird of the parlor, more for
the wild flowers than for those of the greenhouse, more for nature
wild and rugged than for nature clean and shaven and dressed in the
latest fashion of the landscape gardener.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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