did also her love for drawing and sketching, and one of her poems, “The Other World,” has been a favorite with many. Beloved in her private life and honored as one of the great in our literature, Mrs. Stowe lived on in her quiet home at Hartford until her death in July, 1896. On her seventy-first birthday, June 14, 1882, she was tendered by her publishers, Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin and Company, a tribute in the form of a garden party to which many of the literary people of the country were invited. It was held at the country residence of the Honorable and Mrs. William Claflin, at Newtonville, near Boston, Massachusetts. This beautiful place, “The Old Elms,” was never more lovely than on this perfect day. The majestic elms stood proudly, as if they, too, felt the responsibility. The friends that came bore the most honored names among the living writers of the land. There were Whittier and Holmes, Louise Chandler Moulton and Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, Lucy Larcom and Thomas Bailey Aldrich and A. Bronson Alcott and Julia C. R. Dorr. Of Mrs. Beecher’s family there were a goodly number: her three brothers, Charles, Edward and Henry Ward, and her sister Isabella (Mrs. Hooker), her daughter Mrs. Allen and her son Charles, being among the number. After a time spent in delightful converse, the company gathered in a tent on the lawn and listened to an address by Mr. H. O. Houghton. After a tender word for the memory of Longfellow and of Emerson; Mr. Houghton said that the garden party was being held in honor of a birthday--but what the number of the birthday was we would not inquire. If we estimated it by the amount of work accomplished by the beloved guest of the day we must rank her with the antediluvians; but if we judged by the vigor and freshness of her writings, by her universal sympathy with young and old, we should have to say that she had discovered the fountain of perpetual youth! Then he spoke of “Uncle Tom,” calling it the “great epic of our age”; his trials, and the victories he wrought for this epoch were to be our Iliad and our Æneid for centuries to come. He then ran over the events of Mrs. Stowe’s life, showing how it had all been a preparation for the work she did; the New England youth, the western years on the borders of a slave state, the trials and the disciplines. With such a training, he said, “who can wonder that, while sitting at the communion table and meditating on the infinite sorrows and ignominy of Him who gave Himself for the redemption of humanity, she should have been inspired with the vision of another life of suffering and sacrifice, by which a race should be redeemed; and that while she mused the fire burned, and from the white heat came forth the vivid picture of the death of that other man of sorrows, so like its great prototype, as like as a human copy can be to a divine original?” Mr. Houghton then spoke of the widespread interest and the many translations of the book, telling how