How kind and generous you are to my books, and therefore, to
me!  How thoroughly you understand them and know why I wrote
them!

When a book of mine is sent out into the cold world of indifferent reviewers, I read their platitudinous words, trying to be grateful; but waiting, waiting, knowing that ere long I shall get a little clipping from the Somerville Journal, written by Kate Sanborn; and then I shall know what the book is.  If it’s good, she’ll say so, and if it isn’t, I think she would say so; but that alternative never has come to me.  But I would far rather have her true words of dispraise than all machine-made twaddle of nearly all the book columns of our great American press.

It is such generous minds as yours that have kept me writing.  I
should have stopped long ago if I had not had them.

ALICE MORSE EARLE.

It is impossible to give you a perfect pen picture of Breezy Meadows or of its mistress, Kate Sanborn, just as it is impossible to paint the tints of a glorious sunset stretching across the winter sky.  Breezy Meadows is an ideal country home, and the mistress of it all is a grand woman—­an honor to her sex, and a loyal friend.  Her whole life seems to be devoted to making others happy, and a motto on one of the walls of the house expresses better than I can, her daily endeavour: 

“Let me, also, cheer a spot,
Hidden field or garden grot,
Place where passing souls may rest,
On the way, and be their best.” 

          
                                                                BARBARA GALPIN.

As a lecturer, Miss Kate Sanborn is thoroughly unique.  Whatever her topic, one is always sure there will be wit and the subtlest humour in her discourse, bits of philosophy of life, and the most practical common sense, flashes of laughable personal history, and gems of scholarship.  It is always certain that the lecture will be rendered in inimitably bright and cheery style that will enliven her audience, which, while laughing and applauding, will listen intently throughout.  No wonder she is a favourite with lecture goers, for few can give them so delightful an evening as she.—­MARY A. LIVERMORE.

There is only one Kate Sanborn.  Her position as a lecturer is unique.  In the selection and treatment of her themes she has no rival.  She touches nothing that she does not enliven and adorn.  Pathos and humour, wit and wisdom, anecdote and incident, the foibles, fancies, freaks, and fashions of the past and present, pen pictures of great men and famous women, illustrious poets and distinguished authors, enrich her writings, as if the ages had laid their wealth of love and learning at her feet, and bidden her help herself.  With a discriminating and exacting taste, she has brought together, in book and lecture, the things that others have overlooked, or never found.