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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. 3