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Among the Thinkers and Writers of Dixie
MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON.
In literature, as in everything else which has ad
ded lustre to the annals of their land, the daugh
ters of Dixie have wrought with a skill worthy of
the noblest womanhood the woild has ever known.
In the past, it is true, hampered, as they were, by
the popular misconceptions of their powers, only
now and then did they boldly enter the literary
field; but since the renaissance of thirty years
ago, conditions have changed in the South; and
female authors are as frequent now as they once
were far between; and the fruits of their pens are
the fairest promise for the literary future of their
land. To the women writers of the South of to-day,
all honor is, therefore, due; still, in spite of recent
triumphs, the children of Dixie should tenderly
treasure forever the name and the fame of the no
ble predecessors of the present illustrious school;
and among the immortals of the pioneer band, they
should hallow the sacred dust of Margaret J. Pres
ton, the Sappho of the tropics, the subject of the
following sketch.
Mrs. Margaret J. Preston, the poet, the novelist,
the critic, the journalist, first saw the light in the
city of Philadelphia, May 19, 1820. The family
from which she drew her lineage was a product
of the Scottish soil. Her great-grandsire, indeed,
was one of the Lairds of Newton; and her grand
father married in Edinburgh, before emigrating to
America. Her father was Dr. Geo. Junkin, a distin
guished Presbyterian divine and one of the fore
most educators during those earlier days. It was
he, in fact, who founded Lafayette College, at Eas
ton, Pa.; and for more than twenty years, he served
as president of Washington College, at Lexing
ton, Ya.
Thus blessed with an erudite father and reared
iu a classic atmosphere, scarcely had the little
Scotch lassie left her cradle before she was hard at
her books. At the age of three, she amused herself
by learning the Hebrew letters; at ten, she read
both English and Latin with skill and enthusiasm;
and two years later, she translated Greek in a
fluent and felicitous style. Radiant as was her
record, however, it possibly merits but modest ap
plause; for having received her instruction from
private tutors and largely from her father himself,
she was never kept back on account of plodding
class-mates, but was given free rein to advance at
her will. She deserves commendation, to be sure,
because of her earnest application; for, unlike the
majority of boys and girls, she was always a dili
gent and systematic student. So anxious was she
for knowledge, indeed, that she got up at five o’clock
every morning, in order to recite her lessons to her
father whose professional duties made it impossi
ble for him to instruct her at any other hour. By
such strenuous methods, she made herself mistress
of the higher branches of science and art, and pass
ed for a woman of splendid erudition wherever she
made her home.
Had her family remained in Pennsylvania, the
fruits of her education would doubtless have en
riched the literary wealth of the North; but her
father, in 1848, accepted the presidency of Washing,
ton College; and Lexington, Va., therefore, became
her home for almost the rest of her life. Having
passed her youth in the land of Penn, she always
cherished a tender love for the hallowed haunts of
her girlhood; still, although a woman of twenty-,
eight years, when she came to the land of Lee, she
developed a heart as loyal to the South as any that
ever had pulsed in the breast of a daughter of the
Old Dominion: and whatever her hands found to do,
that promised advancement to the section, she al
ways did with a might and will worthy of a native
of the soil.
To the singer, too, the move was fraught with a
world of blissful meaning, for it gave her not only
a new field of labor, but a wise help-meet as well.
Hitherto, she had lavished her wealth of affection
upon her father and her favorite authors; but th?
love-inspiring atmosphere of the South soon kindled
the spark in her soul, and her heart soon pulsed with
By DAVID E. GUYTON.
The Golden Age for September IS, 1906.
rs pure a passion as glows in the breast of a child.
Whether she had dallied with Cupid in her girlhood,
or whether she had always laughed at his wiles,
available records have failed to reveal; but at the
age of thirty-seven, she united in marriage with
Prof. J. T. L. Preston, President of the Virginia
Military Institute and one of the noblest and most
scholarly gentlemen of the classic little city of Lex
ington. Their home-life was ideal, and two sturdy
Scotch lads came to crown their cup of happiness
to its golden brim. Mis. Preston was always a
busy woman, but she never allowed literary labors
to supersede domestic duties. Both her sons grew
up to manhood, and are prominent in their profes
sions; and both are splendid refutations of the cyn
ical theory which asserts with a sneer that public
life unfits a woman for the diviner duties of “moth
er, wife and queen.”
In the midst of household cares, however, she
never neglected her books; neither did she stifle the
impulse to write, which had already developed with
in her. Prior to her marriage, she had attracted
some attention by her able translation of the great
Latin hymn, “Dies Irae”; she had also won a local
notoriety with her novel, “Silverwood, a Book of
Memories”; but she failed to elicit very general
applause until 1866, when she gave to the world her
“Beechen-brook, ” a metrical story of the Civil
War. This poem, though read but little today, was
received with a burst of enthusiasm when it first
appeared in print; for, while Mrs. Preston was a
native of the North, she was thoroughly Southern
in sentiment and conviction; and many of her no
blest lyrics were written in honor of the Boys in
Gray, such, for example, as the following stanzas
from her lines in memory of Robt. E. Lee:
“We will not weep—we dare not! Such a story
As his large life writes on the century’s years,
Should crowd our bosoms with a flush of glory,
That manhood’s type, supremest that appears
Today, he shows the ages. Nay, no tears
Because he has gone forward!
“Gone forward? Whither? Where the marshall’d
legions,
Christ’s well-worn soldiers,' from their conflicts
cease—
Where Faith’s true Red-Cross knights repose in
regions
Thick-studded with the calm, white tents of peace,
Thither, right joyful to accept release,
The General has gone forward!”
“Beechen-brook,” having passed through eight
editions within a single year, Mrs. Preston was en
couraged to launch out again on the uncertain sea
of verse, and in 1870 scored a greater triumph with
her collection of lyrics, “Old Song and New.” In
rapid succession, she gladdened her admirers with
“Cartoons,” “For Love’s Sake,” “Colonial Bal
lads, Sonnets, and Other Verse,” and in all of these
volumes appeared many poems of more than nor
mal merit. In “A Handful of Monographs,” she
has presented to the public her reminiscences of
ramblings through Europe, a work possessing a
worth of its own, but possibly inferior to some of
her previous efforts.
As already mentioned, Mrs. Preston has left many
gems in memory of the heroes of the South. She
has also treated in a sympathetic style many in
teresting phases of American history. In spite of
the value of these verses, however, their impor
tance is hardly superior to that of her tender reli
gious lyrics of which the following may be taken as
a type:
“What will it matter by-and-by
Whether my path below was bright.
Whether it wound through dark or light,
Under a gray or golden sky,
When I look back on it, by-and-by?
“What will it matter? Naught, if I
Only am sure the way I’ve trod.
Gloomy or gladdened, leads to God,
Questioning not of the how, the why,
If I but reach Him by-and-by.”
Her sonnets, too, have always enjoyed the favor
of the critics of her land; and in fact, in every de
partment of poetry in which she endeavored to sing,
she has acquitted herself with a grace and skill
worthy of her English idol, Elizabeth Barrett
Browning. In many respects, these lyrists resemble;
yet each is distinct from the other. In breadth of
theme and in loftiness of flight, Mrs. Browning is,
of course, superior; but in tenderness of conception
and in beauty of rhythm, Mrs. Preston is perhaps
her peer.
In addition to her contributions in verse, the
Virginia minstrel has enriched Southern letters
with noble efforts in prose. Her novel, “Silver
wood,” has already been mentioned in passing; and
besides this story, she wrote much criticism worthy
of her fertile brain. Moreover, she did a lasting
service to the literature of the South by doing grat
uitous editorial work for a number of native jour
nals. In this particular phase of her labors, she
set a noble example for the children of the tropics,
who, alas, manifest but a meager interest in the lit
erary weal of their section.
Notwithstanding her splendid success in the role
of a writer of prose and verse, Mrs. Preston was one
of the most modest creatures in the annals of Amer
ican minstrelsy. Had she been less diffident, in
deed, she might have achieved even greater things;
for she was hampered by a nature so excessively re
tiring that she actually declined to allow her name
to appear in one of her works, in spite of the fact
that the publisher promised her a double remunera
tion upon this condition.
Toward the closing days of her life, she wrote
only now and then; for her eyes had grown very
weak, in the meantime; and besides, she had possi
bly exhausted her wealth of precious literary wares.
Having already showered her people with pearls
from the treasure-house of her heart, she richly
deserved the beautiful rest that comes to the chil
dren of God. On March 28, 1897, she peacefully
passed away, breathing her last in Baltimore, the
city where sleeps the broken heart of Edgar Allan
Poe.
Agnes Scott College.
(Continued from page 2.)
filled with valuable volumes and fitted with admir
able library facilities, is at the disposal of Agnes
Scott students, and the increased size of this room
was made possible by the founding of the Rebekah
Scott Hall which relieved the main building to a
great extent.
The Faculty.
The president, Dr. Gaines, is too well known in
his educational and professional capacity to need
even passing comment, but it is seldom that any
institution is so fortunate as to secure for its leader
during the formative years of its existence a presi
dent so competent, so enthusiastic and so unselfish
ly devoted to the best interests of the institution as
is Dr. Gaines. Since the very beginning of this
great educational work Dr. Gaines has been asso
ciated with it and during the same period of time,
just seventeen years, he has been most ably assist
ed by his principal, Miss Nannette Hopkins. It is
beyond the power of any human estimate to record
or even to conjecture the value of the work which
Miss Hopkns has done for the Agnes Scott College
and for its student body. Untiring energy, patient
and earnest effort, sympathy, interest, and unfail
ing courage, together with a rare wisdom and a high
moral smse, combine to produce a force too strong
to be measured by human standards. Miss Hopkins
has created just such a force for the institution un
der her care, and its friends and patrons everywhere
testify to her power and influence for good.
The South needs more colleges for women—the
class of women who year by year demand college
educations is steadily increasing, and it is the pleas
ure and the province of The Golden Age to record
the history of such institutions, and to give to
each its full measure of support and commendation.
We can only wish that the pleasant task might be
ours even more often than present opportunities
permit.
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