Twelve months ago, we began this Bible study with D.L. Moody’s teaching on sin. Today, we close it with his teaching on Heaven. They are fitting bookends; the problem that started this series finds its ultimate resolution in the home Christ has prepared for those who love Him.
In this final lesson, Mr. Moody reminds us that the world “is not our home; this is only our training place.” Then, he gives us a vision of the heavenly home that awaits us, which far surpasses every earthly treasure.
If you’ve spent any time getting to know the characters in Isabella Alden’s novels, you’ve probably met them multiple times: the widow who takes in lodgers to keep her family afloat, the young store clerk boarding far from home for the first time, the landlady presiding over a dinner table crowded with as many opinions as boarders. Boarding houses show up so often in her stories that it’s easy to read right past them — but for Isabella’s original readers, they needed no explanation. For us, more than a century later, a bit of an explanation is in order.
Newsapaper ad for a private boarding house in Florida, 1878.
A boarding house was, at its simplest, a private home where the owner rented out rooms and provided meals — typically breakfast and dinner were included in the weekly rate, with lunch offered as a lighter, extra meal since working boarders were away at midday. This is an important distinction: a boarding house was not the same thing as a rooming house, where a lodger rented a room but ate meals elsewhere, usually at a restaurant. Boarders lived and ate under one roof; roomers just slept there. Isabella’s characters moved between both kinds of arrangements, and knowing the difference helps explain a lot about their daily routines (and their complaints).
A small private home open to boarders. The sign near the seated woman reads “Rooms by day or week.”
A well-run boarding house was expected to offer more than just a bed. According to the standards of the day, a boarder could expect a clean, whole set of bedding, a washstand with a large pitcher for washing up, fresh drinking water left by the bed at night, and a well-supplied bathroom down the hall. Whether a house actually delivered on these basics — or fell woefully short of them — could make the difference between a boarder’s contentment and outright misery. We meet both kinds of houses in Isabella’s novels.
A boarder’s room at a boarding house in Uniontown, Pennsylvania (courtesy Uniontown Public Library).
In Isabella Alden’s lifetime, a woman who needed to support herself — or her family — had only a handful of respectable options. She could teach school. She could sew. She could clerk in a store. Or she could keep a boarding house.
That last option had a particular appeal for women who already owned a home, especially widows left with a house too large for their remaining family and no other income. It required little starting capital. You didn’t need to buy a building or stock a shop; you just opened the doors of the house you already had. And on paper, it looked deceptively simple: cook a bit more food, make up a few extra beds, and collect the weekly rent.
The dining room at Mrs. Heath’s boarding house, Duluth, Minnesota, 1893.
In practice, as Isabella’s own characters discover, it was one of the hardest ways a woman could make a living. Keeping boarders happy, fed, and paying required real business sense — knowing what to charge, what “extras” to allow, how to set rules boarders would actually obey and respect — and it demanded relentless physical labor that often fell hardest on daughters and servants rather than the woman whose name was on the sign. That was certainly the case in the Ried household in Isabella’s novel, Ester Ried.
Ad for a large well-staffed boarding house in the Toronto Daily Star, 1904.
Isabella Alden probably had some personal experience as a boarder. As the wife of a minister who moved frequently from one calling to the next, she likely spent time in boarding houses and rented rooms herself, sizing up landladies and dining rooms much the way her characters do. That experience may be exactly why her boarding house scenes feel so specific and true.
Isabella’s fellow boarders had their own reasons for renting rooms. They were people who needed lodging but didn’t have or want a household of their own — young unmarried clerks and salesmen, professionals new to a city, widows and widowers, traveling businessmen with schedules that didn’t match a family’s routine, and increasingly, by the turn of the century, single working women living independently of their families for the first time.
Some residents of the Taylor Boarding House in Denton, Texas, 1904.
That mix of backgrounds, ages, and personalities all sharing one dining table is exactly what made boarding houses such fertile ground for Isabella’s imagination. For her, a boarding house dining room could be the setting for a marriage proposal, a theological argument, a landlady’s quiet influence on a wayward young man, or a boarder-turned-lifelong-friend, all in the course of an ordinary week. Isabella used her boarding houses not just as scenery, but as places where her characters’ true selves came out and sometimes, their spiritual journeys were corrected.
Join us again on October 20 when we’ll begin looking at the boarding houses in Isabella’s novels, starting with a weary young heroine named Ester Ried and the exhausting responsibilities she carries as she tries to keep her family afloat.
Long before modern crossword puzzles appeared in 1913, Victorians enjoyed word games to pass the time. One of the most popular forms was the acrostic—a puzzle where the first letter of each line spells out a word, name, or hidden message when read vertically down the page.
A classic acrostic poem looks like this:
Stars up in the sky They sparkle with love All so glorious Radiant above
Reading the first letters top-to-bottom reveals the secret word: STAR.
In The Pansy magazine, Isabella Alden encouraged her young readers to build acrostics, but with a spiritual twist — she asked them to spell out their names using lines from their favorite Bible verses.
Children responded with enthusiasm, sending in hundreds of scripture acrostics over the years, many of which Isabella published.
Here is one example sent in by a young reader who drew her verses from the Coverdale translation of the Bible. Can you read the first letter of each line to figure out her name?
Keep innocency, and take heed unto the thing that is right. And call upon me in time of trouble, so will I hear thee. Teach me, O Lord, the way of thy statutes. Early in the morning do I cry unto thee.
Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips that they speak no guile.
Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth. Order my steps in thy word, and so shall no wickedness have dominion over me. Delight thou in the Lord, and he shall give thee thy heart’s desire. Make me to understand the way of thy commandments. A small thing the righteous hath is better than great riches of the ungodly. Now are ye light in the Lord, walk as children of light.
Did you figure it out? The writer was Kate K. Rodman!
Another reader, Fanny C. Tingue, submitted a verse acrostic with a surprise. Instead of spelling her own name, she used scripture to spell out the name of her favorite author:
My sheep hear my voice. Righteous lips are the delight of kings. So that we may boldly say, the Lord is my helper.
Great is the Lord and greatly to be praised. Remove from me reproach and contempt.
And many believed on Him. Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me. Divers weights are an abomination unto the Lord. Every man shall kiss his lips that giveth a right answer. Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you.
Fanny’s acrostic spells out MRS. G. R. ALDEN—Isabella’s married name—a thoughtful tribute that must have delighted Isabella.
Encouraging children to craft scripture acrostics was a wonderfully creative way to help them search the Scriptures, practice reading, and memorize verses that touched their hearts.
Why not try following Isabella’s challenge yourself? Choose your name, open your Bible, and see if you can create an acrostic using your favorite verses!
In an 1891 issue of The Pansy magazine, Isabella Alden shared a thoughtful passage by the famous preacher Charles Spurgeon.
Because her magazine was written for young readers and families, Isabella frequently featured quotes and insights from spiritual leaders that illuminated simple truths. Spurgeon’s words draw a beautiful parallel between astronomy and the heart, reminding her readers—and all of us—how personal communion with Christ naturally deepens our devotion.
You can find more words of wisdom like the one above, which you can print and share. Just enter “quotables” in the search box on the right to see more.
In the early 1910s, Americans were experiencing a world in turmoil. With major events like the start of World War I and the sinking of the Titanic, many people found themselves looking for reassurance, order, and a sense of control over their futures. One surprising place they turned to—The stars.
During this time, a massive craze for astrology, palmistry, and fortune-telling swept the country. Newspapers filled their classified pages with advertisements from self-proclaimed astrologers, clairvoyants, and palm readers promising to map out business prospects, cure health troubles, and—most popular of all—arrange perfect marriages.
from the Telegram and Gazette (Worcester, Massachusetts) September 6, 1914.
Raymond Macdonald Alden—Isabella’s son—recognized the growing trend. Raymond was an acclaimed scholar and author in his own right. He held a doctorate, served as chair of the English department at Stanford University, and was a noted expert on Shakespeare and classic literature who frequently delivered popular lectures.
from the Richmond Times Dispatch, May 1, 1919.
Raymond was also an award-winning short story writer. He watched the growing obsession with astrology and palmistry with a sharp, humorous eye. In 1914, he confronted the trend the best way he knew how: through a light-hearted romantic story that poked fun at the craze. His story playfully shows how common sense, honesty, and real human connections make a far more reliable foundation for love than any horoscope ever could.
When a skeptical young man stumbles into a Los Angeles “Bureau of Destiny” to cure his heartache, he has little hope for a happy future. But as the bureau’s clever secretary takes his romantic fate into her own hands, he soon learns that destiny works in mysterious and delightfully unexpected ways.
As a minister’s wife for over four decades, Isabella Alden knew firsthand what D.L. Moody describes in this month’s Bible class: how quickly a congregation’s criticism can wear down a pastor’s spirit, and how “the Holy Spirit will not work in an atmosphere of criticism.”
In Lesson 11, Mr. Moody introduces us to both the Person and work of the Holy Spirit — His conviction of sin, His gift of hope, His call to love the unlovely, and His power to bring true liberty to a captive soul.
This is a lesson for anyone who wants to better understand the Holy Spirit’s work in daily life.
One hundred years ago, J. B. Lippincott Company published two new novels by Isabella’s niece, Grace Livingston Hill: A New Name (her 43rd novel) and Coming Through the Rye (her 44th novel).
The Philadelphia Inquirer, March 27, 1926
The mid-1920s were an interesting time for an author like Grace. While literary critics enthusiastically praised modernist writers like Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald, everyday readers continued to turn to Grace for something entirely different: comfort, clear moral lessons, and stories that reminded them that life could have a noble purpose.
Evening Express, Portland, Maine, September 28, 1926
Community reading groups like the Riverside Reading Circle in Bridgeport, Connecticut, frequently placed her latest releases right at the top of their schedules:
The Bridgeport Telegram, May 24, 1926.
That enthusiasm wasn’t limited to the 1920s. Decades later, readers were still discovering her work for the first time—and realizing their mothers and grandmothers had loved her, too. In April 2000, a newspaper in Kentucky published an article by a feature writer named Nancy Taylor, who wrote:
I discovered a small volume, Coming Through the Rye, and enjoyed it so much, I mentioned it to my mother as if I were telling her something she didn’t know.
“Grace Livingston Hill!” she said. “I’ve read so many of her books I don’t know where to begin. Matched Pearls is one of my favorite stories ever.”
Chicago Tribune, September 25, 1926.
Ms. Taylor went on to write:
My great-grandmother read them, my grandmother read them, my mother read them, I’ve read them, and my daughter reads them.
St Louis Globe-Democrat October 16, 1926
The old adage, “the more things change, the more they stay the same” is still true. Grace’s novels continue to hold the same place in readers’ hearts today as they did in 1926, and every year since. Perhaps Ms. Taylor said it best in the closing lines of her article published twenty-six years ago:
Where there is discouragement in the world, Grace sowed encouragement. Where there is yearning, Grace sowed hope, and she did it across generations. It is such a comfort to know that words which so long ago inspired our great-grandmothers are today an inspiration for our daughters. Grace Livingston Hill is the author of that gift.
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In August 1914, the world Isabella knew was rapidly changing. The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand weeks earlier had set off a domino effect across Europe, throwing nations into war and leaving thousands of travelers scrambling to return across the Atlantic.
For most Americans, the conflict in Europe seemed a world away. But for Isabella the outbreak of World War I brought a sudden and very personal concern.
Her son, Dr. Raymond Macdonald Alden, was in the middle of it all.
Raymond Alden in an undated photo
Raymond was a brilliant scholar and head of the English department at Stanford University. He was an accomplished author in his own right, best known for his classic short story “Why the Chimes Rang.”
In early 1914 Raymond traveled to England to spend several months conducting research in the historic archives of the British Museum and Oxford University. It was a dream trip for an American professor of English literature. But as summer drew to a close, the gathering clouds of war suddenly broke over Europe.
Duke Humfrey’s Library, the oldest reading room at the Bodleian Library at the University of Oxford. Courtesy http://www.oxfordvisit.com
Germany declared war in early August, and almost overnight, the Atlantic Ocean became a danger for travelers as German U-boats began patrolling major shipping lanes.
Before matters could escalate further, Raymond wisely booked passage home on an ocean liner called the SS Arabic that departed Liverpool on July 28, 1914.
The SS Arabic of The White Star Line, 1904.
Raymond’s journey across the ocean was anything but peaceful. For most of the voyage, a British cruiser sailed alongside the Arabic as an escort to protect the liner from a potential u-boat attack.
While the Arabic made it safely across the Atlantic that summer, the ship would not always be so fortunate. Just one year later, in August 1915, the Arabic would be torpedoed and sunk by a German submarine off the coast of Ireland, an event that made international headlines and brought the United States to the brink of entering the war. But in August 1914, Raymond’s ship docked safely in Boston, delivering him back to America unharmed.
While Raymond was braving the ocean crossing, his parents were eagerly waiting for him in New York. The Aldens had always been a close-knit family, but given the circumstances in Europe, Isabella and her husband decided to travel clear across the country to New York so they could be close by when Raymond’s ship docked. The area where they stayed held a special place in their hearts
Isabella was born in Gloversville, New York, and had attended school at Oneida Seminary. It was there that she met Theodosia Toll Foster (who would write under the pseudonym Faye Huntington), and they became lifelong best friends, sharing a bond of faith and friendship that spanned decades.
Locust Shade, the Toll Family Homestead as it appeared before it was demolished in 1952 (from The Rome Sentinel, August 13, 1952
That August of 1914, while waiting for Raymond’s return, Rev. and Mrs. Alden stayed as guests at the Toll Homestead in Verona, New York. They also spent time in nearby New Hartford, where Rev. Alden had served as a beloved pastor of the First Presbyterian Church nearly forty years earlier.
But lurking beneath the family visits and conversations with friends, Isabella and her husband must have felt a good deal of anxiety over the safety of their son. Their prayers and the bond of faith they shared with family and friends must have been a comfort and support during that time.
After nine stressful days at sea, Raymond’s ship docked at Boston Harbor and he at last joined his parents in New York. He gave the local newspaper a brief (and very understated) account of his Atlantic crossing, describing it as “a somewhat exciting trip.”
from the Daily Sentinel (Rome, New York) on August 14, 1914
Four days later, the Alden family boarded a train together for the long journey back to the home they shared in Palo Alto, California.
To the residents of Verona and New Hartford, the war across the Atlantic might have felt distant. But Raymond’s close call on the Arabic was a reminder of how quickly major world events could reach right into the homes of American families.
For Isabella and her family, facing uncertainty with steady faith and holding fast to deep friendships brought them through another trial, surrounded with love and support until they were, at last, safe at home together.
YOU CAN READ MORE ABOUT ISABELLA’S EARLY LIFE IN GLOVERSVILLE IN THESE POSTS:
Today Marcia Macdonald Livingston is widely known as the mother of beloved Christian novelist Grace Livingston Hill and the older sister of Isabella “Pansy” Alden; but Marcia was actually a talented, well-published author in her own right. She wrote uplifting stories for readers of all ages, and this month’s free read is a wonderful example. Although “A Happy Summer” was written with children in mind, Marcia’s warm, engaging writing style makes this a meaningful and entertaining read for adults, too.
For sisters Jessie and May, life in a hot, cramped city attic makes the country feel like a distant dream. With their widowed mother working day and night to keep a roof over their heads, a summer filled with green fields and fresh air seems impossible. But when an unexpected act of kindness opens the door to a new life in the quiet village of Woodbury, the Wilson family discovers the joy of answered prayers and the simple beauty of nature.
Originally published in an 1883 issue of The Pansy magazine, this special edition of “A Happy Summer” includes the original artwork published with the story, so you can read it in the same way Victorian children first enjoyed it!
Dwight L. Moody was unlike any preacher of his era. Other celebrated evangelists of the nineteenth century (including his contemporary Charles Spurgeon) preached with scholarly precision and theological authority.
Mr. Moody took a different approach. He talked to his audiences the way a trusted friend might talk across a kitchen table — warmly, personally, and without pretense. It was a style he probably carried with him from his early days as a shoe salesman in Boston, where he learned that persuasion begins with a human connection, not an argument.
His simple, conversational style is evident throughout Lesson Ten of Mr. Moody’s Bible Class.
He doesn’t begin the lesson with a Scripture text or a theological declaration. Instead, he opens with a lovely description of the view from his study window at his home in Northfield, Massachusetts. He describes the Connecticut Valley stretching out before him and his view of the distant Vermont hills after an early mist has burned away. It’s a short and ordinary paragraph, and that is precisely his point. From that gentle opening he moves into one of the most profound doctrines of the Christian faith: the resurrection of the dead.
Mr. Moody’s home in Northfield, Massachusetts in 1904.
Half way through the lesson, Mr. Moody shares more about his personal life and admits that when he was a child he was terrified of death. He describes how he would pause whatever he was doing and anxiously count the strokes of the church funeral bell (one toll for each year of the deceased’s life) and feel a cold dread whenever the count was low. It’s a tender and relatable confession of fear from a man who regularly preached to millions of people.
That is what makes this lesson so powerful and so relevant for readers today. Mr. Moody doesn’t lecture us about the Resurrection from a safe theological distance. Instead, he tells us what it cost him personally to believe it — and what it gave him in return.
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