Earnest young men found the gray-headed scholar as young at heart as they thoughtful or troubled women instinctively brought their doubts and sorrows to him, sure of finding the gentlest sympathy, the wisest counsel sinners told their sins to the pure-hearted old man, and were both rebuked and saved gifted men found a companion in him ambitious men caught glimpses of nobler ambitions than their own and even worldlings confessed that his beliefs were beautiful and true, although “they wouldn’t pay.”
These attributes, in spite of poverty and the strict integrity, which shut him out from the more worldly successes, attracted to him many admirable persons, as naturally as sweet herbs draw bees, and as naturally he gave them the honey into which fifty years of hard experience had distilled no bitter drop. March safely at home, busy with his books and the small parish which found in him a minister by nature as by grace–a quiet, studious man, rich in the wisdom that is better than learning, the charity which calls all mankind “brother,” the piety that blossoms into character, making it august and lovely. The three years that have passed have brought but few changes to the quiet family. March, “What can you expect when I have four girls in the house, and a dashing young neighbor over the way?” And here let me premise, that if any of the elders think there is too much “lovering” in the story, as I fear they may (I’m not afraid the young folks will make that objection), I can only say with Mrs. IN ORDER THAT WE MAY start afresh, and go to Meg’s wedding with free minds, it will be well to begin with a little gossip about the Marches.
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