 | Lucy Howard's journal |  |
PREFACE.
The rush of progress in our native clime is
without parallel in its transforming and effacing
power. The sound of the woodman's axe yields
to the hum of the village springing amid fallen
trunks. The city forgets the primeval forest
over whose roots it rises. Every generation
takes with it to the grave some trait or treasure
which it might be curious to restore or useful to
cherish.
The inner habitudes of the last half century
are already becoming matters of tradition. Yet,
as far as they are mingled with the domestic nurture
of females, it is well to preserve their semblance;
for if obsolete as precedents, they will
become points of historic interest. Those elementary
details which, from their simplicity or
minuteness, seem to need excuse, involve principles
or affections which have given to New England
homes stability and comfort, as well as that
affluence of virtue which has enabled them to cast
freely to the young West germs that cause its
wilderness to blossom as the rose.
| Lucy Howard's journal | |