1891.] 



There is no doubt that she was impulsive and impetuous; those quali- 

 ties could not have existed apart from the divine energy that accom- 

 plished such results. The sources of our virtues are also the sources of 

 our faults. Let it be said that she was sometimes undisciplined in speech, 

 and sometimes misunderstood her friends. We will remember that she 

 came to us Puritans, Quakers, self restrained people, from a demonstrative 

 and enthusiastic nation of Europe, and that we are quite as likely to have 

 misunderstood her. Let us remember, too, the constant strain and stress 

 of her hard-working life in a profession of all others trying to nerves and 

 spirits. And if she demanded much of others she was harder on herself. 

 After toilsome days she often studied into the small hours of the 

 night to keep herself at the high-water mark of knowledge which she 

 conscientiously exacted of herself. 



In 1883 her children induced her to give up a life of such incessant 

 exertion, to close her school of vocal art, to take a trip to Europe for 

 relaxation, and on her return to take only private pupils. Her visit to 

 Europe at this time illuminated the remaining years of her lite; every- 

 where she met with warm friendship and cordial admiration. When she 

 returned, it was to a peaceful home, where loved children and grand- 

 children could often come to see her, where she received pupils through 

 the day, and lived alone with one faithful, loving German servant to 

 whom she was both friend and mother. It was a quiet, retired but peace- 

 ful life. She had always been simple and unworldly, full of humanity 

 and taking delight in small pleasures, such as lie within the reach of all. 

 The companion of prince?, the fiiend of the first statesmen and philoso- 

 phers, poets and musicians of Europe, the beloved of Clara Schumann and 

 our own Anna Jackson, found joy in making one poor German girl happy 

 and in being made happy by her. "We go to the Park in the hot sum- 

 mer days, Paulina and I ; we sit down by the water, and under the trees 

 and hear the birds sing ; we look at the children on the flying-horses and 

 we visit the Zoo. In the winter if we are tired or lonesome Paulina and 

 I will go to the opera. Sometimes we do go to see Buffalo Bill, and we 

 laugh and shake all over, and that rests us." 



Mrs. Seller left us on the morning of December 21, 1886, at two o'clock. 

 She had been ill for nearly two weeks, but few persons had known of it, 

 and it was a surprise to nearly every one. She had often said she hoped 

 she might not live beyond the age of sixty-five, and her wish was granted. 

 Her disease was spinal meningitis, and she was unconscious from the begin- 

 ning of her illness to its close. For her we could ask nothing better. 

 She escaped t he languors and disabilities of old age ; she never tasted death. 

 At the brief funeral service, I longed to hear some voices of those who 

 had loved her and whom she had trained sing the beautiful hymn, "Oh 

 Spirit freed from Earth." 



After her hard-working, self-denying life, crowded with services to her 

 fellow-men, and faithful to the end, she has entered into immortality. 

 For, what Dr. Furness said of her in beautiful words (which I must not 



