"There are two kinds of scholarships， equally desirable； a permanent one， where the interest of a fund from year to year will support a succession of students， and a temporary one， to help some worthy individual as she may require. Someone has suggested that this association should help young girls in their primary education. But as our public schools possess all the advantages for a thorough education in the rudiments of learning and are free to all， our scholarships should be bestowed on those whose ability and earnestness in the primary department have been proved， and whose capacity for a higher education is fully shown.
"This is the best work women of wealth can do， and I hope in the future they will endow scholarships for their own sex instead of giving millions of dollars to institutions for boys， as they have done in the past. After all the bequests women have made to Harvard see how niggardly that institution， in its 'annex，' treats their daughters. I once asked a wealthy lady to give a few thousands of dollars to start a medical college and hospital for women in New York. She said before making bequests she always consulted her minister and her Bible. He told her there was nothing said in the Bible about colleges for women. I said， 'Tell him he is mistaken. If he will turn to 2 Chron. xxxiv. 22， he will find that when Josiah， the king， sent the wise men to consult Huldah， the prophetess， about the book of laws discovered in the temple， they found Huldah in the college in Jerusalem， thoroughly well informed on questions of state， while Shallum， her husband， was keeper of the robes. I suppose his business was to sew on the royal buttons.' But in spite of this Scriptural authority， the rich lady gave thirty thousand dollars to Princeton and never one cent for the education of her own sex.
"Of all the voices to which these walls have echoed for over half a century， how few remain to tell the story of the early days， and when we part， how few of us will ever meet again； but I know we shall carry with us some new inspiration for the work that still remains for us to do. Though many of us are old in years， we may still be young in heart. Women trained to concentrate all their thoughts on family life are apt to think杦hen their children are grown up， their loved ones gone， their servants trained to keep the domestic machinery in motion杢hat their work in life is done， that no one needs now their thought and care， quite forgetting that the hey-day of woman's life is on the shady side of fifty， when the vital forces heretofore expended in other ways are garnered in the brain， when their thoughts and sentiments flow out in broader channels， when philanthropy takes the place of family selfishness， and when from the depths of poverty and suffering the wail of humanity grows as pathetic to their ears as once was the cry of their own children.
"Or， perhaps， the pressing cares of family life ended， the woman may awake to some slumbering genius in herself for art， science， or literature， with which to gild the sunset of her life. Longfellow's beautiful poem， 'Morituri Salutamus，' written for a similar occasion to this， is full of hope and promise for all of us. He says： "'Something remains for us to do or dare； Even the oldest tree some fruit may bear.
Cato learned Greek at eighty； Sophocles Wrote his grand Oedipus， and Simonides Bore off the prize of verse from his compeers， When each had numbered more than four-score years， And Theophrastus， at three-score and ten， Had but begun his Characters of Men； Chaucer， at Woodstock with the nightingales， At sixty wrote the Canterbury Tales； Goethe at Weimar， toiling to the last， Completed Faust when eighty years were past.
These are indeed exceptions； but they show How far the gulf-stream of our youth may flow Into the Arctic regions of our lives， Where little else than life itself survives.
For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself， though in another dress， And as the evening twilight fades away The sky is filled with stars， invisible by day.'" On December 21， 1892， we celebrated， for the first time， "Foremothers' Day." Men had celebrated "Forefathers' Day" for many years， but as women were never invited to join in their festivities， Mrs. Devereux Blake introduced the custom of women having a dinner in celebration of that day. Mrs. Isabella Beecher Hooker spent two days with me， and together we attended the feast and made speeches. This custom is now annually observed， and gentlemen sit in the gallery just as ladies had done on similar occasions.
My son Theodore arrived from France in April， 1893， to attend the Chicago Exposition， and spent most of the summer with me at Glen Cove， Long Island， where my son Gerrit and his wife were domiciled. Here we read Captain Charles King's stories of life at military posts， Sanborn's "Biography of Bronson Alcott，" and Lecky's "History of Rationalism."
Here I visited Charles A. Dana， the Nestor of journalism， and his charming family. He lived on a beautiful island near Glen Cove. His refined， artistic taste， shown in his city residence in paintings， statuary， and rare bric-a-brac， collected in his frequent travels in the Old World， displayed itself in his island home in the arrangement of an endless variety of trees， shrubs， and flowers， through which you caught glimpses of the Sound and distant shores. One seldom meets so gifted a man as the late editor of the Sun. He was a scholar， speaking several languages； an able writer and orator， and a most genial companion in the social circle. His wife and daughter are cultivated women. The name of this daughter， Zoe Dana Underhill， often appears in our popular magazines as the author of short stories， remarkable for their vivid descriptions.
