Plan your visit. 225 Madison Avenue at 36th Street, New York, NY 10016.

Plan your visit. 225 Madison Avenue at 36th Street, New York, NY 10016.

Letter from Vincent McNabb, Leicester, to Edith Cooper, 1910 January 23 : autograph manuscript signed.

BIB_ID
423862
Accession number
MA 2092.33
Creator
McNabb, Vincent, 1868-1943.
Display Date
Leicester, England, 1910 January 23.
Credit line
Gift of H. Bradley Martin, 1960.
Description
1 item (4 pages) ; 15.2 x 9.8 cm + envelope
Notes
Envelope "To Henry / By kind favour of Dr. Ryan." There is a penciled note on the verso saying "with letter of 23 January 1910."
Written from "Holy Cross Priory, / Leicester" on stationery printed with the address.
Amy Cooper Ryan was Edith Cooper's sister and Katharine Bradley's niece. Amy Cooper Ryan died January 22, 1910.
Housed with a printed announcement of "A Course of Lectures on Political Economy by the Very Rev. Father McNabb, O.P., S.T.L." with the titles and dates of 6 lectures the dates of which appear to be in 1910, the year of writing of 6 of the 7 letters from Father McNabb to Edith Cooper.
This letter is part of a collection of correspondence by and to Katharine Bradley and Edith Cooper dating from 1888 to 1910. See the collection record for more information (MA 2092.1-48).
Provenance
Gift of H. Bradley Martin, 1960.
Summary
Saying "The others will know why to you I give the few moments of to-day that I can call my own. They are only mine because I have stolen them from the flood of duties that overwhelms this day of rest. To-day the alter is draped with purple; & the purple of sorrow is upon your soul. I remember your dear sister as 'Amata' - a being sent of God into this world as sunshine only to be loved. Her eyes seemed like still mountain tarns aglow only with the shadows & light in the sky. I have a memory of inexpressible gentleness - a certain snow-drop quiet & peace that springs up in dark days for their redemption. May I recall Fr. Tabb's words. / Niva, child of innocence, / Dust to dust we go. / Thou, when winter wooed / thee hence / Wentest snow to snow. I have ever loved snow-drops almost beyond all flowers; - not because they are the fairest - as perhaps they are; but because they are there unexpectedly in the dark cold days when flowers are rarest & we need them most. God is in this death. I see Him alone; & the flower whom He has plucked from the bosom of Winter as if proud that it could bloom in such surroundings. God bless you."