A brighter day was dawning for Mary Rice.  A little later, longing for an education, Dr. Neale, their good minister, encouraged and assisted her to go to the Charlestown Female Seminary.  Before the term closed one of the teachers died, and the bright, earnest pupil was asked to fill the vacancy.  She accepted, reciting out of school to fit herself for her classes, earning enough by her teaching to pay her way, and taking the four years’ course in two years.  Before she was twenty she taught two years on a Virginia plantation as a governess, and came North with six hundred dollars and a good supply of clothes.  Probably she has never felt so rich since that day.

She was now asked to take charge of the Duxbury High School, where she became an inspiration to her scholars.  Even the dullest learned under her enthusiasm.  She took long walks to keep up her health and spirits, thus making her body as vigorous as her heart was sympathetic.

It was not to be wondered at that the bright young teacher had many admirers.  Who ever knew an educated, genial girl who was not a favorite with young men?  It is a libel on the sex to think that they prefer ignorant or idle girls.

Among those who saw the beauty of character and the mental power of Miss Rice was a young minister, whose church was near her schoolhouse.  The first time she attended his services, he preached from the text, “And thou shalt call his name Jesus; for he shall save his people from their sins.”  Her sister had died, and the family were in sorrow; but this gospel of love, which he preached with no allusion to eternal punishment, was full of comfort.  What was the minister’s surprise to have the young lady ask to take home the sermon and read it, and afterwards, some of his theological books.  What was the teacher’s surprise, a little later, to find that while she was interested in his sermons and books, he had become interested in her.  The sequel can be guessed easily; she became the wife of Rev. D.P.  Livermore at twenty-three.

He had idolized his mother; very naturally, with deep reverence for woman, he would make a devoted husband.  For fifteen years the intelligent wife aided him in editing The New Covenant, a religious paper published in Chicago, in which city they had made their home.  Her writings were always clear, strong, and helpful.  Three children had been born into their home, and life, with its cares and its work, was a very happy one.

But the time came for the quiet life to be entirely changed.  In 1861 the nation found itself plunged into war.  The slave question was to be settled once for all at the point of the bayonet.  Like every other true-hearted woman, Mrs. Livermore had been deeply stirred by passing events.  When Abraham Lincoln’s call for seventy-five thousand men was eagerly responded to, she was in Boston, and saw the troops, all unused to hardships, start for the battle-fields.  The streets were crowded with tens of thousands.  Bells rung, bands played, and women smiled and said good-bye, when their hearts were breaking.  After the train moved out of the station, four women fainted; nature could no longer bear the terrible strain.  Mrs. Livermore helped restore the women to consciousness.  She had no sons to send; but when such partings were seen, and such sorrows were in the future, she could not rest.