Mrs. Botta had talent in various directions.  She made portrait busts in plaster that really were like the subjects, with occasionally an inspired success, and that without any teaching.  She showed genius in this work.  When a bust of her modelling was sent to Rome to be put into marble, the foremost of Italian sculptors, not knowing the maker, declared that nothing would be beyond the reach of the artist if he would come to Rome and study technique for a year.  Mrs. Botta asked me to let her try to get my face.  That was delightful.  To be with her in her own studio and watch her interest!  Later some discouragement, and then enthusiasm as at last the likeness came.  She said she took the humorous side of my face.  The other side she found sad.  My friends not only recognized my face, but they saw my mother’s face inwrought.

Mrs. Botta had talent in various directions.  She published a large book, The Hand Book of Universal Literature, once used at Harvard and other colleges, and hoped to prepare one of similar style on Universal History.  She also wrote a small volume of poems, but her days were given to the needs of others.  Only a few mornings were we able to work on her Universal History.  There were too many calls for advice, sympathy, or aid; the door-bell rang too often.  I heard a young girl once say of her:  “She is great enough to have been an inspired prophetess of olden times, and tender enough to have been the mother of our Dear Saviour.”  Such were the words of impassioned praise that fell from the lips of a young, motherless, Roman Catholic girl, one of the many whom Mrs. Botta had taught and befriended.  Once, when reading to Mrs. Botta in connection with her “History,” a man called to see her about getting material for her biography.  To my surprise, she waved her hand to me saying, “This young lady is to be my biographer.”  As I felt entirely unable to attempt such a work I told her it should be made up of letters from a host of friends who had known her so well and so long.  This pleased her, and after her death her husband wrote me urging me to edit such a composite picture, but knowing his superior fitness for the work, I thanked him for the compliment, but declined.  What a delightful result was accomplished by his good judgment, literary skill, and the biographical notes gladly given by her intimate friends.  I will give a few quotations from the tributes: 

To me—­as to others—­her conversation was singularly inspiring; it suggested to a man his best trains of thought; it developed in him the best he had; it made him think better of himself and of mankind; it sent him away stronger for all good work.

She seemed to me capable of worshipping in equal fervour with Roman Catholics or with Unitarians—­in a cathedral or in a hovel; and this religious spirit of hers shone out in her life and in her countenance.  Very pleasant was her optimism; she looked about her in this world without distrust, and beyond her into the next world without fear.

     She had a delightful sense of humour—­so sweet, so delicate, so
     vivid.  She had a gift of appreciation which I have never seen
     surpassed.