Isabella, Chautauqua, and “True Education”

Isabella Alden was a teacher at heart. Before she became a bestselling author, she earned her living as a schoolteacher and devoted countless hours to preparing meaningful Sunday school lessons for her students. So when the Chautauqua movement began in the early 1870s, it was a natural fit—she was involved from its earliest days.

The Chautauqua idea started simply enough as a summer gathering where Sunday school teachers could learn best practices for their work and enjoy a bit of recreation when classes weren’t in session.

What began as a “Sunday School Assembly” in 1872 gradually evolved into something much bigger—a “summer university” that welcomed people of all incomes, backgrounds and education levels. It was, wrote Harper’s Monthly Magazine in 1879, “a school for those who, conscious of their need, earnestly desire the highest culture possible for them.”

One of Chautauqua’s founders was Rev. Dr. John H. Vincent, who served as Sunday school secretary of the Methodist Episcopal Church and was a close friend of Isabella’s. Like her, he prized knowledge, learning, and mental discipline.

Rev. Dr. John Heyl Vincent

But what really united them was their shared conviction: that it was possible—even essential—to study art, science, literature, and history through the lens of religious truth.

In 1909 Rev. Vincent addressed the Chautauqua Women’s Club on a topic close to both his and Isabella’s hearts: the importance of education in religious experience. Fortunately, his speech was preserved in an issue of Chautauqua Herald, the assembly’s monthly newspaper.

In many ways, his thoughts on balancing education with Christian faith feel remarkably relevant today—more than a century later. Below are some key points that illustrate the heart of his message. See if you agree with his ideas.

“The Educational Factor in Religious Experience.”

Education and religion used to be too separated. But that is not the case in our time.

In our time education and religion are drawing closer together every day, and one sign of our progress is the growing recognition of religious teaching. I believe that people will increasingly see the value in religious teaching as it becomes purer and freer from the bigotry that once characterized it.

We all remember when fanaticism, bigotry, and opposition to sci­ence (as if science were opposed to religion!), found theirplace in the church and prejudiced the minds of scholarly people. As we broaden our perspective and gain a wider view of the world of Nature, this fanaticism is dying out and the scholars and the religious teachers are no longer enemies.

Religion opens the whole field of education, in which theology is fundamental. Religion in its truest sense is education.

Educated people ought to be religious. Religious people ought to be educated. When we surrender our intellect to God through religion, He returns it to us as a precious gift to use. Let us, then, as a form of religious expression, learn how to think—and delight in it.

There are seven points in the consideration of religious life as related to personal culture.

First, religious ex­perience and personal growth work together by developing power of thought.

Second, we should cultivate our ability to reason. Let us ask, why is this? and, why is that?—applying our reasoning not only to intellectual pursuits, but to the realities of daily life.

Third, religion is a great thing to culti­vate imagination, and we must develop imagination if we want to broaden our lives. But we must also keen imagination in check.

Thought, reason, imagination—these are all effects of re­ligious experience.

Fourth, we should identify a noble, guiding purpose in life. What am I living for? That is the question we should ask ourselves. How can I beautify my little corner, and how can I do good to my neighbor? Why, every line I read or word I speak leaves its mark on some other human being. Men and women can sink to a lower level very easily. It is a great thing when one woman influences to higher thought one man or ten men.

Fifth, religion should help us see ourselves accurately—not too high, not too low.

Sixth, let us remember that a genuine religious spirit combined with the pursuit of learning will develop philanthropy—a pure phi­lanthropy rooted in Christian values.

And seventh, let us remember that religion develops character. Practice builds virtue—the hallmarks of character that Peter describes when he says “add to your faith courage—add to your faith integrity—add to your faith strength.” Peter understood the secret of inner spiritual life.

“Add to your faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge mod­eration, and to moderation”—patience, strength—“godli­ness, and to godliness, brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity. For if these things be in you and abound, they make you that you shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.” (2 Peter 1:5-8)

Religion thus becomes a process of self-mastery in which we take time to focus our abilities and de­velop them.

Rev. Vincent’s speech captured so much of what Isabella believed and practiced throughout her life. She never saw a conflict between being educated and being faithful. Her novels explored complex themes and moral questions. The articles she published in The Pansy magazine taught children about science, geography, and literature—all while maintaining a foundation of Christian values. Like Rev. Vincent, she understood that true education develops the whole person: mind, character, and spirit. It’s a vision of learning that, at the time, was both revolutionary and deeply needed.

What do you think?

Is it possible to pursue knowledge while maintaining spiritual grounding?

Can we cultivate our minds without losing our moral compass?

Dr. Vincent and Isabella would say yes. And given the lives they both lived—dedicated to learning, service, and faith—their example suggests they might be right.

To the Wives of Ministers

Isabella Macdonald Alden and her sister Marcia Macdonald Livingston were always very close. They were both married to Presbyterian ministers, and both found success as writers of Christ-centered novels, as well as short stories for Christian magazines.

Isabella Alden (left) and her sister Marcia Livingston (right).

In 1898 the sisters learned through their churches about the plight of a retired minister and his wife who were in danger of losing their home. The couple needed just $150—about $5,900 in today’s money.

Isabella and Marcia knew from experience how difficult it was to live on a minister’s inadequate salary, and how that meager income made it nearly impossible to save anything for retirement. The elderly couple’s plight touched the sisters’ hearts and they decided to take action.

The sisters wrote a joint appeal for donations on behalf of the elderly couple. Their letter was published on May 4, 1898, in a weekly Christian magazine and read as follows:

TO THE WIVES OF PRESBYTERIAN MINISTERS.

Dear Friends: Let us beg your pardon in the beginning for addressing you. Our excuse must be that we feel we are not strangers, but friends; the mystic bond which unites the wives of all those who have given themselves to the ministry of the gospel of Jesus Christ unites us, as well as that dearer, stronger one, Jesus Christ being our Elder Brother. It is because it seems that he has put it into our hearts to send you this word that we do it.

It has come to our knowledge that there is in our beloved Church a minister and his wife who sorely need a little help just now to tide them over a hard place. The facts are, briefly, these:

A Presbyterian minister, formerly in active service as pastor, now broken in health and nearly seventy years of age, invested his little all several years ago, in a small place in California, hoping to make a living by raising fruits and vegetables for the market. He and his wife, who is now partially crippled by rheumatism, have worked heroically on their home, but the unprecedentedly hard times of the past few years, as well as increasing ill health, were against them. The little home, so carefully and prayerfully worked for, is in danger. A mortgage of only $150 rests upon it; but, unless even that small sum be raised promptly, it must go.

A minister and his wife belonging to our grand Church, sick and old and with no home! Isn’t it pitiful that such a thing should be, when they have given their best years to the Church?

Why are we telling you? It has come into our hearts that possibly 148 ministers’ wives will each spare $1, to be placed with our $2, to be sent at once to this dear minister’s wife, who can no longer work with her crippled hands, as she has bravely done, to help support her sick husband. This, as a token that we are sisters and recognize the bond.

While we write the words we remember that probably some cannot do even this, and are moved to ask that any who can will make their offering $2 or $3, or even $5, for the sake of those who would respond but cannot, and for the sake of those who will mean to do it, when they read these words, but who will let the cares of this busy world crowd it from their minds.

The sisters closed their appeal by providing their home addresses where donors could send money, and a promise to provide updates in a future issue of the magazine.

Photo of Isabella Alden about 1880 (age 39)

It’s hard to know what their expectations were. Perhaps they thought they’d eventually receive a few donations that they could add to their own and forward to the retired minister and his wife.

But that’s not what happened! You can imagine Isabella and Marcia’s excitement when they wrote the following update, which appeared two weeks later on May 18 in the same magazine:

AN ACKNOWLEDGMENT.
 

Dear Friends: It gives us pleasure to report at this date the receipt of $41 towards the $150 that we are trying to raise to save the little home, of which we wrote you last week. As the magazine containing the appeal has been issued only four days, including Sunday, the replies thus far have been instantaneous.

The sum of $41 in today’s economy is about $1,600. That’s an astonishing amount to receive in so short a time! The sisters continued:

Our gratitude for these kindly and prompt responses is very great. We are looking to receive many more before the week closes. One friend writes that she hopes we will excuse her for not being a minister’s wife, and yet for sending her offering! We are delighted with her.

We remember that there are ministers’ wives by the score who gladly would, but cannot; it is fitting that some more blessed with this world’s goods should reply for them. Two dear ladies have already done so; one sent $5, the other $10.

One friend hopes that we will receive much more than the sum called for and be able to make an additional gift. We echo the hope.

Later it will be our pleasure to give a somewhat more detailed account of this pleasant work, and of some of the precious letters that have come to us. There have already been received gifts that represent sacrifice and letters that would touch your hearts. Yours sincerely,

What a promising start for the sisters’ fund-raising campaign!

Marcia Livingston around 1905.

Their next update was published three weeks later on June 8 with the following headline:

THE MORTGAGE LIFTED

The sisters’ wrote:
 

Dear Friends:

It is with pleasure and gratitude that we come to you with the final result of our appeal for those dear servants of God in California, asking you to lend a helping hand in saving their home.

You will remember the amount of the mortgage was $150, and we have the joy of telling you that we have received in all the sum of $210.

That $210 would be equal to about $8,300 in today’s money! The sisters continued:

Undoubtedly it will be a blessing to our dear friends to receive these tokens of fellowship, but the Lord’s own statement, that it is “more blessed to give than to receive,” seems again to have been verified.

Nearly every letter writer has taken time to add a word of tender sympathy and to express the wish that the sum desired might be much more than realized.

As we read the heart-lines accompanying them, we wished that you could all enjoy them with us. It has been interesting to note how many ministers’ daughters responded, “begging the privilege” of being counted in.

One friend wrote that she was not in any way connected with ministers, but she was a member of the Presbyterian Church, and she felt it a precious privilege to lend a helping hand to these servants of the Lord in their hour of need.

Another, who said she “had just begun to be a minister’s wife,” was only too glad to inaugurate her service in this way. Still another begged admission to the circle on the plea that she expected “very soon” to become a minister’s wife.

Many ministers’ widows, out of their small incomes, sent glad offerings. One who was nearing her eightieth year, but who had a good home, the rent from which supported her, joyfully offered her gift. Another token was from an old minister and his wife, who said that they had no home to save, but the Lord had taken care of them for seventy-eight years, and given them a little with which to help others.

One wrote, “Your appeal coming so soon after our Sunday-school lesson on ‘Giving,’ afforded some of us an opportunity to show our faith by our works. How thoughtful of our Lord!”

There were gifts from those who “had to count even the dimes carefully to make the ends meet, but were glad to share with others.”

Times without number we were thanked for affording the opportunity, and the wish was constantly expressed that much more than the sum called for might be received. 

Now, in regard to the recipients of these gifts, nothing would afford us greater pleasure than to copy at length the beautiful and touching letter received from the dear wife, in response to the check sent her. The length of the letter and the personal character of some of it deter us. A few sentences, however, we feel that we must quote. The letter commences:

“Dear, dear friends: What can I say? Words will not express my feelings! God only knows the heart, and he knows how thankful, oh, how thankful, we are to you for all your great and noble kindness. God bless you all, and ever keep you in the hollow of his hand, safe from all want. I want to tell you how it was, so far as words will. My husband was out in the yard when your letter came. I called to him and said: ‘Come in; I want to show you something.’ When he came in I said: ‘Put on your glasses;’ then I handed him the check. He is a man who thinks before speaking. As he sat looking at it I said: ‘Cannot we trust the Lord?” Then I could not keep the tears back any longer, and still he had not spoken. He sat with bowed head, and I knew he was thanking God for his loving kindness. When he looked up his eyes were full of tears, and when he heard how it was, he said: ‘The Lord guided you.'”

Was there ever a more beautiful word picture made than that? The entire letter, which is long, is the out-pouring of hearts almost over-burdened with gratitude. As we read we could hardly help feeling that the offerings were small and poor as compared with the wealth of the return; but, after all, that is what was promised: “Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over.” May the blessing of him who “maketh rich and addeth no sorrow” be upon every giver.

Yours sincerely,
Marcia Macdonald Livingston
Isabella Macdonald Alden (Pansy)

What is most striking about this story is how Isabella and Marcia immediately moved from sympathy to action. They didn’t just feel bad about the elderly couple’s situation—they did something about it. Using their talents as writers and their influence in the Christian community, they rallied others to join them in making a difference.

Isabella around 1885.

The sisters are an example of practical Christianity at its finest. They believed wholeheartedly that even the smallest gesture done in Christ’s name mattered, and the overwhelming response they received proved they were right! Within weeks, they hadn’t just raised $150—they’d collected $210 and created a community of givers who experienced the blessing of helping others.

Isabella and Marcia were women of action who used every gift God gave them to serve others. It’s a reminder that we all have something to offer, and that acting on our faith—even in small ways—can create ripples far beyond what we imagine.

Money, Grain by Grain

For many people, January is a time of new beginnings, a chance to throw off old habits and create new routines that we hope will make us happier, healthier, and more successful.

One resolution that never goes out of style: getting our finances in order. We promise ourselves we’ll spend less, save more, or stick to a budget. It’s advice we hear everywhere, from financial gurus to social media influencers.

But more than a century ago, Isabella Alden was already writing about these same challenges, and offered practical wisdom about money management that remains true today.

Isabella was well acquainted with the concept of living within your means. Growing up, she watched her parents practice small, daily economies. They instilled in Isabella a belief that buying anything on credit—from running a tab at the green grocer’s to carrying a mortgage on a home—could lead to financial ruin.

When she was twenty-five, Isabella married a newly-ordained minister and kept house with very little income. It wasn’t until she began writing her books and stories that she started to earn money to augment her husband’s meager salary.

Money (and the lack of it) was a frequent theme in Isabella’s books. In Aunt Hannah and Martha and John Isabella wrote about the trials of a young minister’s wife who has to learn to cook and clean in order to economize (often with comical and disastrous results). Some of the scenes in the novel are based on Isabella’s own experiences.

So it isn’t surprising that she would be wise about money, and would believe wholeheartedly in the concept of living within one’s means.

Here’s an essay she wrote on the topic for an issue of The Pansy magazine in 1878:

GRAIN BY GRAIN

Did you ever know a young man, when he began in earnest to work for a living, who ever had wages enough? Somehow, salaries and “wants” never do keep with each other. There are not many, who, like an old philosopher, can walk along the streets of a gay city and note the tempting wares set out on every side, and yet say, “How many things there are here that I do not want!” Yet if you can get a little into his way of looking at the luxuries of life, it will be a great help to your peace of mind.

And it is a very singular fact that most fortunes have been laid on very small foundations. A great merchant was accustomed to tell his many clerks that he laid the foundation of his property when he used to chop wood at twenty-five cents a cord. Whenever he was tempted to squander a quarter he would say, “There goes a cord of wood!” He learned in very early years a good lesson in practical economy.

An old woman had been seen for years hanging about the wharves, where vessels were loaded and unloaded in New York harbor, intent on picking up the grains of coffee, corn, rice, etc., that were by chance scattered on the piers. The other day she was badly hurt by some heavy bags of grain falling on her. The kind merchants took up a purse for old Rosa and sent her to her home in Hoboken, in charge of an officer. What was his surprise to find that the neat and handsomely furnished cottage was the property of the old grain picker? She had literally built and furnished it, as the coral workers do their homes, grain by grain.

Do not be discouraged though your profits are small. If you cannot increase the income, the only way out of the difficulty is to cut down the wants. Turn every claim to the best account, and as prices go, you will be able to get a vast amount of real comfort out of even a small income. The habits you are forming are also of the greatest importance, and may be made the foundation stones of a high prosperity.

Have you ever had a “grain by grain” moment—where small consistent choices added up to something significant over time?

If you had to choose just one principle from Isabella’s essay to focus on this year—cutting unnecessary wants, maximizing what you have, or building better financial habits—which would make the biggest difference in your life?

A Life-Changing Accident

December 8, 1925—almost exactly 100 years ago—started as any ordinary Tuesday afternoon in Palo Alto, California. Isabella Alden was 83 years old, and was living in the beloved double-home that she and her husband Ross built a decade before on Embarcadero Road.

Ross and her son Raymond had died the year before, so only Isabella and her daughter-in-law Barbara (Raymond’s widow) and her five children were left to share the rambling house.

Barbara Hitt Alden, about 1910.

That afternoon, Isabella, Barbara, and Barbara’s youngest son, Raymond Jr., set out together in the family car. Barbara was behind the wheel. None of them could have known that their simple outing would dramatically change the remainder of Isabella’s life.

Black and white photo of a side-view of an old automobile with four doors and a woman seated in the driver's seat.
A 1925 Lincoln sedan, a popular car style in the 1920s.

At a street intersection a little less than a mile from their home, another car collided with the Alden vehicle, striking it with enough force to cause it to overturn. The impact shattered the windshield and windows, showering the passengers with broken glass.

Newspaper Clipping: 3 Generations of Aldens Suffer Cuts and Bruises. Three generations figured in the automobile accident here today in which two persons were severely cut about the face and head and suffered many bruises, while the third person was but slightly hurt. They were: Mrs. G. R. Alden, Mrs. Raymond M. Alden, Raymond M. Alden Jr., 4.
The San Francisco Chronicle, December 8, 1925.

Barbara was only slightly hurt. But Isabella and her young grandson suffered “severe cuts about the face and head, and many bruises.” After receiving first aid from a nearby physician, Isabella and Raymond Jr. were taken to Palo Alto Hospital for treatment.

Palo Alto Hospital in the 1920s.

The next day’s newspaper reported reassuring news: the accident victims had returned home, and Isabella “was found to have suffered only from shock and minor cuts.” Her grandson’s injuries were described as the most serious of the three.

Newspaper Clipping: Accident Victims Removed to Home: Hurts Not Serious. Mr. G. R. Alden, Mrs. Raymond M. Alden, and the latter's 4-year-old son, Raymond, were able to return to their home last night after receiving treatment at the Palo Alto Hospital for injuries incurred yesterday afternoon in a collision between the Alden automobile and that driven by Mrs. L. O. Head. The elder Mrs. Alden was found to have suffered only from shock and minor cuts. The child's injuries were most serious, his head and face having been painfully cut by flying glass. Mrs. Raymond Alden was uninjured.
The Peninsula Times Tribune, December 9, 1925.

But that assessment would prove tragically wrong.

What those initial medical evaluations missed was the true extent of Isabella’s injuries. The accident left her in considerable pain and, ultimately, confined to a wheelchair for most of the remaining years of her life.

Until the accident, Isabella was a woman who had been remarkably productive well into her eighties—still writing, still engaged with her work and family. The accident didn’t just slow her down; it fundamentally altered how she could live her remaining years.

Isabella in later years.

In her memoir “Memories of Yesterday,” which she finished writing after the accident, Isabella documented the physical pain she endured. For a woman who had spent her life in service to others, who had quietly helped so many navigate their own difficulties, those final years must have been particularly difficult for her.

Isabella lived for nearly five more years after the accident, passing away in 1930 at age 88. Those years, spent largely in a wheelchair and dealing with chronic pain, were a far cry from the active, engaged life she had led for more than eight decades.

What is striking about this incident in Isabella’s life isn’t just the tragedy of the accident itself, but what it reveals about her character during her final years. Despite her pain and limitations, she continued to write. She finished her last novel, An Interrupted Night, and entrusted it to her niece, Grace Livingston Hill, to guide it through the publishing process.

She also completed her memoir, Memories of Yesterdays, candidly sharing her memories and reflections on a life well-lived. Even when her body was confined to a wheelchair, her mind and spirit remained active.

That’s the Isabella Alden we’ve come to know through her writings—someone who lived out the principles she wrote about, even when circumstances became difficult. She had spent decades writing about faith, perseverance, and finding purpose in adversity. In her final years, she had to draw on those very principles herself.

A hundred years ago this month, Isabella’s life changed forever on a Palo Alto street corner. While the accident limited her physical abilities, it couldn’t diminish the legacy she’d built through decades of faithful work—or the strength of character that sustained her until the end.

Click on the links below to read more about:
The house on Embarcadero Road
The deaths of Ross and Marcia Livingston
The death of Raymond Alden
Isabella’s final novel, An Interrupted Night

The Gift of Music

It’s Christmas time, and shopping for the holiday is now in full swing. During Isabella’s lifetime, Christmas ads filled the issues of newspapers and magazines, tempting shoppers with bargains and gift ideas.

Among the many advertisements for books, handkerchiefs, slippers, and gloves were ads for a gift the whole family could enjoy: a piano.

The idea wasn’t as extravagant as it might sound; by the late 1890s pianos were quite affordable. Dealers and manufacturers offered consumers credit or payment plans that made purchasing a piano within the reach of families with more modest incomes.

A newspaper ad for Fischer Pianos with the headline "Standard of Highest Merit." In smaller type: "By our new method of Easy Payments every home is enabled at once to possess and enjoy a High-Grade Piano."

Families weren’t the only ones who took advantage of these arrangements. In Pansy’s Advice to Readers, Isabella wrote about a group of school girls who bought a piano for their gymnasium by raising the money themselves and making regular payments to the dealer.

Newspaper ad showing a young woman and her parents in a parlor with an upright piano. The headline reads "The Piano Problem Solved" and "Sold on Easy Payments."

Such arrangements meant pianos were no longer an article of luxury available only to the wealthy. As more families were able to purchase pianos, American social life began to change. Previously, people gathered at churches, concert halls, and other public places to enjoy music; but affordable pianos allowed people to enjoy music at home and within their own family circle.

An 1898 magazine ad for organs ($25 up) and pianos ($155 up). The headline reads "Free! Free! Save Money" and "Special Christmas Offers to Readers of The Ladies' Home Journal."

But even affordable pianos presented a challenge: someone had to learn how to play them.

Once a piano was installed in a home, there were lessons to be had and endless hours of practice in order for a player to become proficient. But in the 1890s self-playing devices came on the market that again changed how families brought music into their homes.

There were two kinds of self-playing devices: those that attached to pianos, and those that were placed inside them.

Invented in America, the pianola was a cabinet-type device that was pushed up against a piano keyboard. It depressed the piano keys with protruding felt-covered levers controlled by a perforated paper roll. A person had to be seated at the device to work the pumping pedals so air pressure created suction to rotate the roll. 

A pianola cabinet. A lid on top is open to show the perforated paper music roll. At the bottom are two foot pedals.
Pianola cabinet style in 1890.

The other type—the player-piano—operated in the same manner with a rotating perforated roll, but the device was installed within the piano itself.

Ad for a player piano with the instrument in the center of the ad, surrounded by holly. Above it is the brand name Krell. Below is "Auto-Grand, the Holiday Spirit."

According to the editor of The Piano and Organ Purchaser’s Guide for 1908, these devices “made tens of thousands of pianos eloquent with good and popular music”—pianos that formerly were silent, except when there was a dance at home, or on a Sunday, when a few hymns were played.

Illustration of a woman seated in front of a player piano with her feet on the pedals. Seated beside her is a young child. A little girl dances beside the piano.

“The present of a pianola is a present to every member of the family.” So declared a magazine advertisement in 1904 that urged consumers to consider buying a mechanical piano player for Christmas.

Photo of a Pianola cabinet with the caption "The present of a pianola is a present to every member of the family."

It wasn’t just families that could now listen to beautiful music in their homes. This ad in a 1904 issue of Booklover’s Magazine suggested a pianola cabinet player was the ideal gift for a bachelor’s home.

Illustration of a young man seated in a chair holding a pipe in his apartment. Beside him is a piano with a pianola cabinet attached. The caption reads "The Bachelor's Idea. The one finishing touch to a bachelor's apartment is furnished by a piano to be played with a Chase & Baker Piano Player."

Those self-playing piano devices opened up whole new musical worlds for people. Many who never visited the opera or a concert before became thoroughly acquainted with world-class musical and orchestral compositions.

Black and white drawing of a young woman seated at a player piano with a perforated music roll visible. A woman stands nearby who appears to be performing a song. A group of elegantly dressed people are seated listening to her.

Sales of pianolas and player pianos peaked in the mid-1920s when gramophone recordings and the arrival of radio caused their popularity to wane.

Illustration of a young woman seated at a player piano, with her feet resting on the pedal. A young man stands beside the piano, looking down at the young woman.

But while in their heyday, pianos, pianolas, and player pianos made an important mark on American culture, bringing music and joy to thousands of families. Isn’t that a wonderful gift to receive?

You can learn more about pianolas and player pianos by clicking here.

You can read Pansy’s Advice to Readers for free!

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Mr. Moody’s Bible Class: Lesson Two

Decorative banner from the magazine that reads "MR. MOODY'S BIBLE CLASS." To the left of the text is an open Bible set against the petals of a flower. Across the top of the banner is a repeating pattern of half-circles and spires to add visual interest.

In his first lesson, evangelist D.L. Moody diagnosed humanity’s deepest problem: the universal reality of sin and its separating power. Now, in this second lesson, Mr. Moody presents the remedy: the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Through scripture and stories, including a powerful account from a Civil War hospital, Mr. Moody shows how Christ came to heal the broken-hearted, deliver captives, restore sight to the blind, and liberate the bruised. As he reminds us, “The Gospel of Jesus Christ is all that we choose to make it.”

You can read Lesson Two for free! Click here to download a PDF version you can print or share with friends.

Then, join us next month for Lesson Three of Mr. Moody’s Bible Class: “True Repentance.”

If you missed Lesson One, you can find it by clicking here.

Miss Marion’s Thanksgiving Day

This week, as we approach Thanksgiving, we’re sharing a lovely poem Isabella published in The Pansy magazine in 1886. “Miss Marion’s Thanksgiving Day” is about a wealthy but lonely lady who looks across the hills at the local almshouse and finds her purpose.

MISS MARION’S THANKSGIVING DAY

Two big houses broad and high,
Outlined against an autumn sky.
Set on two hills, the houses stand,
One grim and cheerless, one fair and grand;
One teems with life throughout its walls,
One silent in all its stately halls.
One is of wood, and one of stone,
Each set in broad acres all its own.
One is the almshouse, gaunt and gray,
One the beautiful home of Miss Marion Ray.
Black and white drawing of two hills separated by a road. On top of the left hill is a gaunt two-story wooden building with rows of plain windows. On top of the right hill is a beautiful Victorian-era mansion with turrets and porches, and perfectly landscaped trees and shrubs, surrounded by an iron fence with an ornately scrolled iron gate.
Miss Marion Ray—her kith and kin
All to their rest have entered in.
Now she dwells with servants in lonely state,
In the mansion behind the iron gate.
A lady tall, and sad, and fair,
With a quiet face and a gentle air—
A sweet, worn face, and hair of gray,
Was the lonely lady, Marion Ray.
Sometimes in the night, when all is still,
She has looked at the lights on the other hill,
And wondered much if it were sadder fate
To live in the house with the wooden gate.
But something happened, the other day,
That has stirred the heart of Miss Marion Ray:
A mother went out of the almshouse door,
Went out of it to go back no more;
Went out to be buried under the leaves,
While the wind of November moans and grieves,
And left a wee blossom with eyes of brown,
To the tender mercies of all the town.
Miss Marion has thought of the baby's fate
Till love and pity have grown so great
She has opened her Bible there to see:
"As ye did it to Mine, ye did it to Me;"
And so, on the morn of Thanksgiving Day,
In the early morn, when the sky is gray,
At the almshouse door a carriage stands,
With shining horses in gleaming bands;
And into the eyes of the little child,
The sad-eyed lady looked and smiled.
On the silken shoulder the glittering head,
Then —"I love 'oo, lady," the baby said.
Gathered close to the hungry heart,
The child and the lady never to part—
Carried home to the mansion grand,
The proudest and richest in all the land.
Never a pauper, the lovely child
Into whose face the lady smiled.
"Done to the least it is done to Me."
What grander honor on earth could be?
Oh, a sweet and joyous Thanksgiving Day
Has come to the home of Miss Marion Ray.

The heart of this story—and of so much of Isabella’s work—is the quiet call to charity, the simple act of extending kindness to those in deepest need.

What do you think? Does this poem illustrate Christ’s instruction from Matthew 25:40: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me”?

Geography Lessons, Pansy Style

Under Isabella Alden’s tenure as editor, The Pansy magazine went from a monthly children’s magazine to a weekly publication. The content also changed; from the early days of short stories, poems, and Bible lessons, the variety of articles expanded to include lessons in science, nature, and geography.

At the top "The Pansy" is displayed in a classic serif font. Below is a black and white woodcut illustration showing a close up of two birds in a meadow with a caption "A Family Disagreement."
The cover of September 17, 1892 issue of The Pansy magazine

In a regular column devoted to geography, Isabella cleverly turned what could have been a run-of-the-mill travelogue into a fun experience for her readers. Each month she chose a U.S. city as a topic; but instead of writing about the city herself, she invited children who had visited that city to write to her and tell about their trip and the sites they saw. Sometimes the children’s assessments and side-comments were more interesting than their descriptions of the city itself.

For example, when Isabella asked children to write about Minneapolis, Minnesota, she received this response from a boy named Harry Denning:

My uncle is a lawyer and lives in Minneapolis. He says the City Hall is just splendid. It cost three million dollars. Its great tower is three hundred and forty-five feet high, and there are only two others in the United States which can get above that. There isn’t any danger that this building will ever burn up, for it is made fire proof. I wonder why they don’t make all buildings fire proof? Then we would not have to buy engines, and pay firemen, and keep great splendid horses doing nothing all day long but wait for fires. This City Hall which I began to tell you about is three hundred feet square and fills up a great block on four streets. I am going to be a lawyer, and I shall have an office in Minneapolis.

Didn’t Harry have a good idea for building fire-proof buildings? The magazine included this illustration of the Minneapolis City Hall and Court Square:

City Hall and Court Square

Another letter was written by Minnie Andrews:

I have an aunt who is very fond of visiting churches. When she goes to a new place, if it is only a village, she wants to see all the churches and know about them. When she was in Minneapolis first, years ago, it was a little bit of a place, and my aunt is an old lady, and does not read the newspapers much, and did not realize that Minneapolis had grown a great deal. She went there last spring to visit a nephew. She reached there in the night, and was taken in a carriage to her nephew’s house, and did not realize the changes at all. The next morning at breakfast, when her nephew asked her what she would like to see in the city, she said she would like to visit the different churches if she could, and that perhaps as the day was pleasant they could go that morning.

“Very well,” said her nephew; “to which ones shall we go?”

“Oh, to all of them,” answered my aunt; “we can take a few minutes for each and see them all this forenoon, can we not?”

“Certainly,” said her nephew; “just as well as not. There are only about a hundred and sixty, I believe.”

And that was the first time my aunt knew that she was in a big city instead of the little town she had left thirty years or so before. But I don’t think her nephew was very polite to an old lady. She saw a good many of the churches, among them Dr. Wayland Hoyt’s, which she said she liked the best of all. It is the First Baptist Church of Minneapolis, and cost two hundred thousand dollars. It will seat about fifteen hundred people. I thought the Pansies would like to hear about it.

Perhaps the best part of Minnie’s letter is how caring she was in regard to her aunt’s feelings and how quickly she came to her aunt’s defense.  

Another boy named Thomas Bailey Atwood wrote that when he and his sister visited their uncle in Minneapolis, they went to the Public Library:

It is a very handsome building. They say it cost a good deal—over three hundred thousand dollars. We sat in one of the elegant reading-rooms and read books while our uncle was looking up something in books of reference. There are thousands and thousands of volumes there. The street cars in Minneapolis are all electric. My sister did not like to ride on them when there was a thunderstorm, but I was not afraid. I think I like Minneapolis better than any place I was ever in.

The magazine included this illustration of the city’s impressive public library:

Public Library.

These letters give us a delightful peek into the minds of children from the 1890s. Harry’s practical question about fire-proof buildings, Minnie’s fierce defense of her aunt, Thomas’s brave stance on riding electric streetcars during thunderstorms—each letter reveals not just facts about Minneapolis, but the personalities of the children writing them.

Every child who wrote to her about a city shared real experiences. Isabella understood that children learn best when they’re engaged and when their own voices are valued. By inviting her young readers to become contributors, she turned geography lessons into something personal and memorable. It’s just one more example of why The Pansy magazine resonated with so many children during Isabella’s years as editor. And it’s no wonder children loved writing to her.

Mr. Moody’s Bible Class

Isabella had a special bond with evangelist Rev. D.L. Moody. They were contemporaries who shared a common mission: bringing biblical truths to everyday Americans through accessible, compelling writing.

While Isabella wove Christian principles into her novels and short stories, Mr. Moody taught them directly through his preaching and writing.

In 1896, Mr. Moody published a twelve-part Bible study series in The Ladies’ Home Journal, a magazine that regularly published sermons, essays on religion and faith, and stories with Christian themes. He called his series, “Mr. Moody’s Bible Class.”

Decorative banner from the magazine that reads "MR. MOODY'S BIBLE CLASS." To the left of the text is an open Bible set against the petals of a flower. Across the top of the banner is a repeating pattern of half-circles and spires to add visual interest.

Each month for twelve months, Mr. Moody filled the pages of the magazine with lessons on the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, from sin and redemption to prayer and Heaven. His accessible writing style and practical approach made theological truths understandable to every-day readers, while he challenged them to examine their own faith.

Magazine announcement: Mr. Moody's Bible Class by Dwight L. Moody. The famous Northfield evangelist begins, in the November Ladies' Home Journal, a series of popular Bible studies in the form of a great National Bible Class, destined to prove the most helpful religious department ever sustained by a magazine.
From The Ladies’ Home Journal, October 1896.

“Mr. Moody’s Bible Class” is now available for a new generation. Each of his lessons has been carefully formatted for modern readers, with added reflection questions and organized Scripture references.

Magazine announcement showing a drawing of Mr. Moody sitting in a chair with his open Bible in his lap. He is surrounded by men and women, young and old, sitting and standing. Text beneath the drawing reads: "Mr. Moody's Bible Class. A New Religious Department by Dwight L. Moody."

Whether you’re studying alone, with a small group, or teaching a Sunday school class, Mr. Moody’s lessons offer rich yet practical insights into the foundations of Christian doctrine. Click on the link below to view or download the first lesson:

Lesson One: Understanding Sin

You can read more about the friendship between Isabella’s family and Mr. Moody by clicking on the links below:

Isabella’s Uncle and the Hymn that Changed America

Horatio Spafford’s Second Chapter

Marking Ester’s Bible

How to Have a Good Prayer Meeting

A Feather in Her Hat

Rebecca’s dress was entirely appropriate and becoming. She had gone out from her father’s house very well supplied with clothes, and her ability to re-make them herself had stood her in good stead, so that now her dress of fine black cloth, made severely plain, but with minute attention to details, became her well. So did the black felt bonnet, with its three stylish plumes, which she had herself dressed over.

from Wanted, by Isabella Alden, published in 1894

In her stories, Isabella often used the latest fashion to define a character’s financial and social status, and Rebecca Meredith’s outfit was an excellent example. Because her dress was plain and black, her bonnet “with its three stylish plumes” was the centerpiece of her outfit and called attention to her pretty face.

Bonnets with plumes were very much in style when Wanted was published in 1894. Women’s magazines, like Godey’s Lady’s Book and The Ladies Home Journal showed that hats were be made from a variety of materials—straw, for example, or stiffened fabrics like velvet—and that they were quite modest in size.

Black and white illustration of a young woman wearing a long gown in the fashion of 1895 with extremely large puffed sleeves, and a high collar with a large bow at the back. On her head is a bonnet with a short brim, decorated on top with flowers, gathered ribbons, and an aigrette of short bird plumes.
From Godey’s Lady’s Book, August 1895.

Though small, hats at that time were heavily adorned with ribbons, bows, artificial flowers and, most importantly, bird plumes.

A black and white drawing of a woman wearing a short belted coat with long sleeves and a collar that stands up to cover her neck. On her head is a small hat with a short brim, adorned with ribbons, flowers and a cluster of curled bird feathers at the top.
From Godey’s Lady’s Book, October 1897.

Bird feathers were the most desirable decorative elements on a lady’s hat. In 1894 The Ladies Home Journal predicted that actual wings displayed on bonnets would be “all the rage,” while another magazine wrote that “almost every second woman one sees in the streets flaunts an aigrette of heron’s plumes on her bonnet.”

Color illustration of a woman dressed in a coat and hat from about 1900. Her hat has a wide brim and is piled on top with arrangements of ribbons and two long bird feathers set at an angle pointing toward the back of the hat. A wide red ribbon tied beneath the woman's chin keeps the bonnet in place.

Milliners used feathers from egrets, hummingbirds, herons, and even song birds of all kinds as adornments.

Black and white photo of a woman wearing a dress from the 1890s. On her head is a flat brimmed hat; the crown of the hat is covered with flowers, gathered ribbon, and a single large bird feather in the front. The feather stands straight up on its stem and is adorned with beads.
From Godey’s Lady’s Book, 1898.

The more exotic the bird, the more desirable their feathers; and the millinery industry was willing to pay top dollar to anyone who would supply them, no questions asked.

But some people did ask questions and raise alarms, after nature lovers in England and the United States discovered that some birds, like ospreys and egrets, were hunted so mercilessly, ornithologists feared they would soon be extinct.

Newspaper clipping: BIRDS VICTIMS OF PRIDE. We have received some letters from our readers enforcing the words of Mrs. Aria as the the cruel price that has to be paid for the osprey's feathers, which are in vogue just now in women's headgear. Mrs. Phillips writs to point out that these feathers can only be obtained at breeding time. The plumage is torn from the living parent birds on the nest, which are then flung aside to die, while the young birds are left to starve. Could anything be fore horrible! The bare recital of these facts should be enough to put an instant stop to such a merciless trade.

In London, a Society for the Protection of Birds was formed. Members pledged to never wear feathers of any bird not killed for the purpose of food. Similar organizations were formed in Europe, Canada, and the U.S.

Newspaper clipping: BIRDS IN OUR BONNETS. In response to many inquiries, we would draw attention to the Society for the Protection of Birds, 29 Warwick Road, Maida Hill, London, of which Miss Hannah Poland is the secretary. There is no subscription fee, but any one wishing for a card of Membership can have one by sending two stamps to Miss Poland. Members promise not to wear feathers of any bird not killed for the purpose of food, the ostrich excepted.

The public outcry began to pay off, as women around the world pledged to stop wearing hats with real bird feathers, and American lawmakers enacted state and federal laws to protect certain species of birds by banning them from use in hats and garments.

One bird that was exempt from protection was the ostrich, because its feathers could be harvested without killing the bird. So it was natural that the millinery industry would turn its attention to ostriches as a source for adornments.

Black and white photo of a woman wearing a hat with a wide brim of 12 to 14 inches deep. The crown of the hat is covered in ostrich feathers that are piled about 12 to 14 inches high, giving a waterfall effect.

Ostrich farms that had been established in the southern United States in the late 1890s in hopes of selling feathers to the millinery industry suddenly saw an increased demand for their wares.

Color photo of a herd of about 40 ostriches running across a fenced enclosure.
An ostrich farm in southern California.

And because ostrich feathers could be plucked every eight or nine months, ostrich farmers with large herds enjoyed a regularly replenished inventory they could sell.

Black and white photo of a woman wearing a short-brimmed hat. A wide ribbon circles the crown of the had and is arranged in multiple loops in front. The stems of two long ostrich feathers are tucked into the ribbon arrangement and the feathers drape back cross the crown of the hat.

With the turn of the century, hat styles changed, and the small bonnets that were popular when Isabella wrote Wanted fell out of fashion. The new bonnet styles of the 1900s featured wide brims and brilliant colors.

Ostrich plumes suited the new styles beautifully. Because of their size, the plumes could cover a large hat’s crown and brim.

Hand-colored photo of a woman wearing a hat with a wide brim of 12 to 14 inches deep. The crown of the hat is covered in ostrich feathers that are piled high, with some parts of the feathers spilling over the brim of the hat.

Even more importantly, ostrich feathers could be dyed to match almost any color. Women and conservationists rejoiced, feeling confident that they could use ostrich feathers for fashion without feeling guilty.

Color illustration of a woman wearing a wide brim bonnet about 14 to 18 inches deep. The bonnet is black but the lining is a brilliant blue. A wide orange-gold ribbon circles the crown of the hat and is tied with a large bow. On the opposite side of the crown feathers of the same brilliant blue are arranged in a cluster across the brim.

In her 1912 novel The Long Way Home Isabella made sure her fashionable characters wore the latest style in bonnets. Newlywed Ilsa Forbes wore a wide-brimmed hat when she boarded the train with her new husband Andy:

But Andrew had no words, just then; never was the heart of bridegroom more filled to overflowing, and he could not yet think about decorations or supper.
“My wife!” he murmured, as his arm encircled her. “Really and truly and forever my wife. Do you realize it, darling?”
She nestled as closely to him as her pretty, new traveling hat would permit and laughed softly.

There was, however, a problem with those stylish large hats adorned with ostrich feathers. In 1908 a letter to the editor of the Oregonian newspaper applauded the ban on exotic bird feathers, but raised a new and troubling concern about ostrich feathers:

Newspaper clipping: The only plumage I have cared to wear is the ostrich feather, and I may yet become convinced that this practice is incompatible with my convictions. Having witnessed many times the plucking of ostriches in Southern California, I have been unable to see that there was any special cruelty attached, though I have no doubt the sensation experienced by the ostrich might be much like we would feel in having a deep-rooted molar drawn.

The letter-writer wasn’t the only one wondering if an ostrich felt pain when its feathers were plucked. Soon the Audubon Society and other conservationists began asking the same question and took their findings to state legislators.

In California, where Isabella was living and where many of the country’s ostrich farms were located, the question was answered by lawmakers. In 1900 the state updated its penal code to make it a crime to intentionally mutilate or torture a living animal, which included plucking live birds like ostriches.

Profile of a young woman wearing a black bonnet with a wide brim turned up in the front. At the back of the crown is a cluster of long, fluffy, pink ostrich feathers.

So ostrich farmers stopped plucking and began snipping feathers, instead. A 1911 article in the Dallas Morning News explained the process:

Newspaper clipping: While the term "plucking' is given to the harvesting of the feathers, the fact is that they are not plucked or pulled out, but are snipped off by means of shears. This process is gone through every eight months, and the quality of the plume depends largely upon how it is cut. There are twenty-five long white plumes on each wing of the male bird. The rest of the feathers are black on the male and a grayish color on the female. Harvesting the plumes is no easy task.
From The Dallas Morning News, November 12, 1911.

Once again, stylish ladies (and Isabella’s equally stylish characters) could wear hats adorned with feathers and maintain a relatively clear conscience.

It’s interesting how Isabella’s attention to details, like hat sizes and adornments, brought her stories to life. While she didn’t preach about fashion in her novels, she paid close attention to these niceties, and used them to bring authenticity to her characters and their world. Contemporary fans of her novels would have noted the subtle changes as keeping up with the times.

Cover of The Ladies' Home Journal magazine. The color illustration shows a stylish young woman seated, wearing a white dress. A gold colored cape is drawn open with one of her hands. In the other hand she holds a matching pair of gloves and an umbrella. On her head is a wide-brimmed hat fashionable in 1909. Covering the brim of the hat and cascading over the brim at the back is an arrangement of feathers dyed gold to match her outfit.

For us in 2025, it’s fascinating to learn there’s a whole complicated history behind Rebecca Meredith’s feathers—a history about women who were determined to write wrongs and find ways to be fashionable without compromising their conscience.

You can learn more about Isabella’s novels mentioned in this post by clicking on the book covers below:

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