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==Evanston==
I had enjoyed teaching and really thought if only I could go to college and graduate, I would make teaching my life-work. On my return from Berlin, I found that two of my Sycamore classmates were going to the Northwestern Female College at Evanston. How I did wish to go with them! I could scarcely think of anything else. Father gave the matter due consideration. "Are you sure that after graduation you will resume teaching?" I suppose he thought to graduate from college and then get married would be a waste of money. But I was <u>sure</u> I would teach all my life. So I was prepared to go to college with my two friends. Perhaps this was "putting the cart before the horse", for, after teaching five years, I was now going to school to prepare for teaching.
Evanston, situated on Lake Michigan, twelve miles north of Chicago, was the seat of the [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Northwestern_University Northwestern University], the [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garrett_Evangelical_Theological_Seminary Garrett Biblical Institute] and the Northwestern Female College. I believe it was the year after I graduated that the college was reorganized under the name of the "Evanston College for Ladies", with Frances E. Willard as president. Subsequently it was incorporated in the Northwestern University. I should utterly fail did I attempt a description of Evanston, the beauty of its situation, the charm of its classic groves on the shore of Lake Michigan.
The first year, Mary White, Mary Smith and I rented rooms near the college and boarded ourselves. We settled down to very simple housekeeping and hard study, often studying until 11 P.M. with an occasional bite of a sour pickle to keep us awake. Not being in the college building, we were not subject to rule, "Lights out at ten o'clock". At the end of that year, Miss Smith, a fine scholar, went to take charge of a "Young Ladies' School" at Forest City, north of Evanston. Miss White continued another year, while I remained three years, finishing the four year course in that time.
* ''Anna (and the two Mary's) MAY have been among the very first female students of Northwestern University.''
My father and mother were living alone in Sycamore. Why should they not rent their house and come to Evanston, so I could live at home? This they did, but instead of living in a cottage near the college, as they meant to do, my father took the position of Steward at the college. The duty of the Steward was to purchase supplies, see to their dispensing, and a general oversight. They were given pleasant rooms in the basement. I petitioned for a room alone, on the top-most hall. A view of the college grounds, and the branches of a giant tree sweeping against one of my windows, delighted me. I wanted no company save my books. Yet I would not have liked to be a day scholar, and so apart from the college life.
The Chapel exercises every morning, the Tuesday evening meeting for prayer and testimony, and the occasional Sunday afternoon lecture were full of interest to me. Prof. Bugbee was a retired clergyman, and godly. I am sure he had the spiritual welfare of the young ladies much on his heart.
* ''Rev. Lucius Halen Bugbee (b. 1830 Gowanda, Cattaraugus, N.Y. - d. 1883 Evanston, Cook, IL), according to "Appletons' Cyclopedia of American Biography" graduated from [https://www.amherst.edu/ Amherst] in 1854, became a teacher, was ordained a minister in the Methodist Episcopal church, and was principal of Fayette Seminary, now known as [https://uiu.edu/about/uiu-history/ Upper Iowa University] from 1857-1860, then pastored a Chicago church 1861-1863, then served as President of Northwestern female college at Evanston 1865-1868, then of Cincinatti Wesleyan college, now [https://www.indwes.edu/ Indiana Wesleyan College] 1868-1875, then [https://allegheny.edu/ Alleghany College] in Meadville, PA.''
It was my second year and school was to open on the morrow. A few early arrivals always mark the preceding day, and <u>p</u>leasant greetings were going around on the veranda of the college. As Prof. Bugbee came out, he greeted us genially, saying, "Young ladies, the new French teacher arrives on the next train. I am going to meet him." The French class had been taught by a lady, hitherto. There was a sally of remarks and girlish laughter. <u>I</u> had never seen a French person, and my thoughts were something like the following: "Now, at last, I am to <u>see</u> a <u>Frenchman</u>. I've read about them in books, but they were always dancing-masters."
They came, and an introduction followed. "Prof. Loizeaux of New York City" greeted the "young ladies" with a <u>very</u> polite bow, the like of which I had never witnessed, and went up to his room. We all admitted the bow was graceful and did credit to [http://www.nycago.org/Organs/NYC/html/CharlierInst.html The Charlier French Institute], of which he had been both pupil and teacher. I wonder what he thought of the laughing girls on the veranda; probably he thought of them not at all, his mind being occupied with graver matters.
Other impressions followed. Our French professor was certainly dignified, and not to be trifled with. The class settled into decorous behavior when he came into the classroom, and the giddy ones began to feel anxious about their lesson. Those who wished to learn had ample opportunity, but the careless ones had not a comfortable time. I studied French with zest for a whole year, then made the mistake of dropping it, just when I was beginning to read with ease. Taking the course in three years, I had six difficult studies the last year, without French. "It is too much", Prof. Loizeaux said, "and you can so easily resume your French afterward. I understood his meaning and acquiesced, only to find in the "afterward" that we had scarcely time to speak French, much less study it.
For, you see, we had become friends. It was not through our French lessons. Whenever Prof. Bugbee was absent, Prof. Loizeaux led the Chapel exercises. He always took part in the prayer meeting, and was active in the church. I could not but feel his earnestness as unusual and appealing. We were both longing for a "higher spiritual life", as we expressed it then. The truth was neither of us had <u>peace</u> <u>with</u> <u>God</u>, and our souls were hungering after it.
The holiday vacation being too short for Prof. Loizeaux to return to his home in Iowa, he spent it at the college. One day he said to me, "Can we not read the Scriptures together a little, every day?" "Certainly I shall be <u>glad</u> to do so." Then he began to bring his brother Paul's letters and read them to me. Oh, what letters they were! Paul had been associated with his uncle, Mons. Elie Charlier of the "Charlier Institute", New York. Becoming much exercised in his soul, he gave up this position, returned to the farm, and shut himself up with his Bible; scarcely eating or sleeping until the Lord spoke to him through His word, with such power that his soul was filled with peace and rest. You may read his experience at that time, as related by himself in a little tract, ''Saved by Grace''.
His joy was very great, and like Peter, "He first findeth his own brother." (John 1:14). The two brothers had been deeply attached, <u>always</u>. Both were converted, both had been licensed as local preachers by the Methodist Church. Timothy had come to Evanston to study at the Northwestern University, intending to be a Methodist minister. A course at the Biblical Institute was to follow that of the University. But the Lord had His purposes and ways for each of them, and, in His mercy, made me also, a sharer in His grace. I cannot write <u>freely</u> of this time, it seems too sacred.
We read Paul's letters, we searched our Bibles and prayed together. We shrank from many things Paul wrote, while we craved the peace and joy which he had found. When I saw that his stand took one outside of all denominations, my heart rebelled. I believed it would leave one to drift without an anchor, exposed to every wind of doctrine. Multitudes of notes passed between us at this time, not in any way love notes, save the affectionate address, but notes about the Word of God and the fresh light and truth we were finding therein.
One day he stopped me on the stairs, with a look on his face I had not seen there before. "I have found it" he said simply; and I knew he meant the <u>peace</u> we had been seeking. From this time, always and everywhere he bore testimony to the "finished work of Christ", to the "wonderful grace of God", and to the peace and joy which flow from simply <u>believing</u> the word of God.
But no one understood him. Dear Mrs. Hamlin, widow of Bishop Hamlin, and the leader of the "Holiness Meetings" said: "Why, brother Loizeaux, it is the second blessing, the blessing of sanctification that you have received." He would reply, "No, I am a <u>sinner</u>, saved by grace. <u>Christ</u> is my sanctification, my righteousness and my redemption." And not being able to understand him, they were afraid of him; and he, feeling no longer "at home" went in the country on the Lord's Day, and preached the gospel in a little schoolhouse. The glad tidings which filled his own soul with joy, he <u>longed</u> to tell to others.
Some time after Paul was married, he came with his wife, your Aunt Celia, to Evanston. Dr. Kidder had been very kind to father Loizeaux on his arrival from France, with his young family (Paul and Timothy being twelve and ten years old) and Paul wished to see him. As Paul and Celia came to the college to see Timothy, I was introduced to them. On the Lord's Day morning, they hired a horse and buggy and drove out to the schoolhouse. When I learned that <u>Paul</u> was going to preach, I felt I <u>must</u> hear him.
I could not go with them, much as Prof. Loizeaux wished it, what would the college folks think and say? SO I said to my father, "Wouldn't you like to hear Prof. Loizeaux's <u>brother</u> preach?" "Yes, indeed." So he, too, got a horse and buggy, and we went, but my mother went to church. Paul preached from the 10th chapter of Acts, and we heard the <u>pure</u> <u>gospel</u> preached for the first time.
The Methodist Conference was being held in Evanston, at the time, and the pulpit was filled morning and evening, by one of their <u>great</u> <u>preachers</u>. The next morning, Prof. Bugbee said to me: "Miss Roberts, you missed the sermon of Bishop Simpson yesterday." "I know, professor, but I think I heard a greater sermon." "Indeed! And who was the preacher?" I felt the sarcasm in his voice, but I said simply, "Prof. Loizeaux's brother." We were beginning to share the reproach of Christ.
The days of my college life went on, brightly, successfully to their end. I had a new happiness which might not appear on the surface, but which glorified the days, and the precious word of God was opening up to my understanding and yielding its blessed fruit.
When we left Evanston, Mr. Loizeaux knew that he was called to the <u>Lord's</u> <u>work</u>, <u>not</u> to be a Methodist preacher. Neither of us asked for a letter from the church, as we saw our place outside denominations. That winter I taught in the Sycamore school. A year from the following spring we were married at my home in Sycamore, Ill., on the 18th of March, 1869.
==My Marriage==