It seems coming down from the greater to the less when, leaving for a moment the teaching of the Bible about the glory and responsibility of motherhood, I open another book and quote a few words from the writings of a high-souled poetess, one who without knowing the glory, the bliss, the responsibility of hearing a child call her mother, has yet grasped, in a higher degree than any other writer I know, the reality of all these things. It was fitting to place first of all the testimony of Bible history and teaching on the value of a child and the glories and responsibilities of motherhood. But in these days it will do us good to read some words from one of Mrs. Browning’s poems and to find that along with her great mental and poetic powers, there dwelt in her fragile frame the warmest of motherly hearts, the strongest motherly instincts. As Aurora Leigh, she writes— “I might have been a common woman now, And happier, less known and less left alone; Perhaps a better woman after all, With chubby children hanging on my neck To keep me low and wise. Ah me, the vines That bear such fruit are proud to stoop with it: The palm stands upright in a realm of sand. * * * * * I thought a child was given to sanctify A woman, set her in the sight of all The clear-eyed Heavens, a chosen minister To do their business and lead spirits up The difficult blue heights. A woman lives, Not quickened towards the truth and good Through being a mother? * * * * * I’m nothing more But just a mother. Only for the child I’m warm, and cold, and hungry, and afraid, And smell the flowers a little, and see the sun, And speak still, and am silent, just for him.” I will not multiply quotations. These are more than enough to justify what I have said of the writer. I hope many of you are already familiar with the whole poem. And now, my dear girl friends, I must close our talk to-night with the announcement that in one sense it is to be our last, but not in another. Three years have come and gone since our Twilight Circle was first formed. Some of us met then as old acquaintances, but we have become far more than mere acquaintances to each other. I believe we shall remain true and lifelong friends. One of you, looking regretfully forward to the probable cessation of our meetings, asks quite pathetically— “Have you nothing more to say to us, your girls?”