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. :■ >j 










Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E C. 

AL ii-/62.. 2.4-5 dP-')i 










IX. The Atlantic Monthly. 1857-1860 ... 403 

X. In Wab Time. 1861-1865 439 

XI. " Snow-Bound," "The Tent on the Beach," 

ANi>" Among THE Hills." 1865-1870. . 404 

XII. Friends and Poems. 1868-1877 ... 551 

XIII. The Seventieth Birthday, and Later Years. 

1877-1884 634 

XIV. Last Years. 1884-1802 700 


A. The King's Missive 775 

B. Preservation of Whittier Homesteads . . 786 

C. Bibliography 787 

Index 791 


VOL. n. 

Mb. Whtttieb is ms Garden at Amesburt. After a 
photog^raph taken in the summer of 1888. Frontispiece 
Abigail Husset Whtttieb. From a pencil drawing . 412 
Facsimile of Mb. Whittieb's HANDWBiTiNa . . 546 
House at Hampton Falls, N. H., in which Mb. Whit- 
TiEB DIED. From a photograph by Greenleaf Whittier 
Pickard . 764 







In 1857, it had happened that nearly all the 
eminent writers of the North, and particularly in 
Massachusetts, had come out on the side of free- 
dom, while the lawyers and clergymen, the mer- 
chants and politicians, were as a class either silent 
upon the subject, or actively in opposition to the 
Liberty party. The leading magazines and news- 
papers were not hospitable to free thought and ex- 
pression on the theme that was uppermost in the 
public mind. Editors and publishers of periodi- 
cals having a general circulation were shy of 
writers who, like Whittier, Lowell, Sumner, Mrs. 
Stowe, and Emerson, were determined to speak 
plainly upon a subject that was tabooed in society. 
The other leading writers of New England in 
these days had, most of them, sources of income 
outside of their literary work. But Whittier, no 
longer acting as a paid secretary of an anti-slavery 



society, and not accepting calls to the lecture plat- 
form, had no resource but his small salary as cor- 
responding editor of the " National Era," the oc- 
' casional sale of a poem to some other periodical, 
and the royalty on his books, which at that time 
did not amount to much. His mother, his sister, 
and himself were frequently ill, and therefore it 
is not to be wondered at that about this time his 
finances were at the lowest ebb, and there was a 
prospect that he might be obliged to mortgage his 
homestead. In this emergency, his friend, Joseph 
Sturge, of England, came to his relief, through the 
instrumentality of the large-hearted New York 
merchant, Lewis Tappan. Whittier was reluctant 
to accept help, but grateful to those who stood 
by him in his need. The "Atlantic Monthly," 
which was started in 1857, was of material assist- 
ance to him in this strait, as it paid him better 
for his work than any other periodical had done. 
The better sale of his books was also bringing 
gradual relief, but it was not until the publi- 
cation of " Snow-Bound," in 1866 that the strait- 
ened condition referred to was permanently re- 

It occurred to Mr. Francis H. Underwood to 
combine the powers of the eminent liberty-loving 
writers of the North in a magazine which by its 
ability should command a hearing in circles in 
which hitherto the word " slavery " was not to be 
spoken above the breath. He was successful in 
securing the cooperation he wished, and at a din- 
ner given by Mr. Phillips, the publisher, in the 
summer of 1857, there were present Longfellow, 


Emepson, Whittier, Lowell, Holmes, Motley, Ed- 
mund Quincy, and other writers of high reputation. 
The plans for the new magazine were discussed and 
arranged at this dinner. Mr. Underwood nomi- 
nated Lowell as editor-in-chief, and his name was 
received with enthusiasm. Holmes suggested the 
name " The Atlantic Monthly." The success of 
the enterprise was assured from the start, and a 
new era in American literature was inaugurated. 

Mr. Whittier now found a field for his literary 
activity close at home, in a magazine which prom- 
ised to be hospitable to ideas of reform, although 
not pledged to any party. The hearty cooperation 
had been secured not only of well-known abolition- 
ists like Whittier, Theodore Parker, Mrs. Stowe, 
and Lowell, but of the more purely literary coterie 
of poets, novelists, essayists, and historians, like 
Longfellow, Holmes, Emerson, Motley, Prescott, 
Whipple, and Trowbridge. These writers, work- 
ing harmoniously together, gave a new impulse to 
American literature. There was a freedom in the 
discussion of moral and political questions such as 
had not previously been ventured upon in literary 
periodicals. Underwood says : — 

" The ' Atlantic ' was mainly devoted to belles 
lettres, and was intended, first of aU, to be enter- 
taining; but every number contained a political 
article by Parke Godwin or Lowell, and the public 
understood and felt that this was the point of the 
plowshare that was to break up the old fields. 
A plethora of discussion, of invective, or of pas- 
sionate appeal, such as had been employed in the 
anti-slavery journals, would have swamped the 


magazine, or destroyed its influence with the classes 
to be reached. All the contributors, including the 
old abolitionists, were content to leave questions of 
politics to the editor. Whittier's poems for the 
first three years were upon general subjects, with 
the single exception of 'Le Marais du Cygne,' 
written upon a massacre by pro-slavery ruffians in 

The poem he contributed to the first number of 
the new magazine was " The Gift of Tritemius." 
This was followed by " Skipper Ireson's Eide," 
"The Old Burying-Ground," "Telling the Bees," 
"The Swan Song of Parson Avery," and other 
legends and baUads now reckoned among the clas- 
sics of our literature. James Russell Lowell was 
the first editor, and F, H. Underwood his assist- 
ant. To them he sent, soon after the publication 
of the first number, the copy of " Skipper Ireson's 
Ride," with the following note to Mr. Lowell : — 

" The first number is excellent. I send for De- 
cember (I hope in season) a bit of a Yankee bal- 
lad, the spirit of which pleases me more than the 
execution. Will it do ? Look at it, and use the 
freedom of an old friend towards it and its author. 
The incident occurred sometime in the last century. 
The refrain is the actual song of the women on 
this march. To relish it, one must understand the 
pecuKar tone and dialect of the ancient Marble- 

Mr. Lowell consulted with his assistant, and 
both of them wrote to Mr. Whittier suggesting the 
use of dialect in the burthen. Mr. Lowell's letter, 
dated Cambridge, November 4, 1857, is as follows : 


" I thank you heartily for the ballad, which will 
go into the next number. I like it all the better 
for its provincialism — in all fine pears, you know, 
we can taste the old pucker. I know the story 
well. I am familiar with Marblehead and its dia- 
lect, and as the burthen is intentionally provincial 
I have taken the liberty to print it in such a way 
as shall give the peculiar accent, thus : — 

" * Cap'n Ireson for his horrd horrt 

Was torred and feathered and corried in a oorrt.' 

That 's the way I 've always ' horrd it ' — only it 
began, ' Old Flud Ireson.' What a good name 
Ireson (son of wrath) is for the hero of such a 
history ! 

" You see that ' Tritemius ' is going the rounds. 
I meant to have sent you the proofs, and to have 
asked you to make a change in it where these four 
rhymes come together (assonances, I mean) — 
*door,' 'poor,' 'store,' 'more.' It annoyed me, 
but I do not find that any one else has been 
troubled by it, and everybody likes the poem. I 
am glad that the Philistines have chosen some 
verses of mine ^ for their target, not being able to 
comprehend the bearing of them. I mean I am 
glad that they did it rather than pick out those of 
any one else for their scapegoat. I shall not let 
you rest till I have got a New England pastoral out 
of you. This last is cater-cousin to it, at least, be- 
ing a piscatorial. . . . The sale of Mags, has been 
very good considering the times, and I think you 
will find the second number better than the first. 

1 Mr. Lowell refers to " The Origin of Didactic Poetry," 
which was his first poem in the AHamtic, 


" If you do not wish the burthen so spelt will 
you write me ? " 

To this Mr. Whittier replied : — 

" I leave the matter of the burthen of my ditty 
to thy better judgment. As to the spelling, the 
substitution of ' corried ' for * rid ' does not suit 
me so well, but I am not particularly strenuous 
about it. Would it not be well to put it in italics, 
and with quotation marks, thus : ^Here 's Cap'n 
Ireson^ etc. Instead of ""was tarred and feath- 
ered' it should read as I have it, 'Tarred and 
feathered,' and the provincial spelling should only 
be used when the women are represented as sing- 
ing, ' Here 's Cap'n Ireson,' etc. Where / re- 
peat it, the odd spelling and the quotation marks 
should be omitted. At least, so it strikes me. I 
had just sent thee a line, when I received thine. 
In it I suggest an alteration of a single line. The 

* pastoral ' shall be thought of. ' The Witch's 
Daughter ' was an attempt of the kind, but not 
entirely satisfactory. I may possibly do better. 
I am uncertain what to say as to the money sug- 
gestion. All I know is that such an article as 

* Cap'n Ireson ' would bring me fifty dollars from 
another source. It is not worth it, perhaps. I 
shall set no price upon my pieces, but shall leave 
the matter to the publishers, who can best judge 
what they are worth. I have suffered in my small 
way in these hard times, and am beginning to feel 
that my creditors will not have the Christian grace 
to forgive my debts. The state of my health — 
which makes the writing of a letter a painful bur- 
then — renders it necessary that I should receive 


the value of what I am able to do. ... I am glad 
to hear that the magazine is doing so well, and 
thanking thee for thy kind suggestions, I am very 
truly thy friend. 

" P. S. Since writing this, have received a line 
from F. H. Underwood, with the proof. I have, 
on further consideration, adopted your suggestions 
as to the refrain, and written him accordingly." 

The story of " Skipper Ireson " was told to Mr. 
Whittier by a schoolmate at the Academy, who 
came from Marblehead, and he first began to write 
it out under the Hugh Tallant sycamores in 1828. 
It was not finished, however, for nearly thirty 
years. He supposed it was a tradition of the last 
century, — was not aware that the poor man who 
was so harshly treated was a contemporary of his 
own ; for the poet was nearly a year old when the 
Skipper took his ride.^ 

There was much inquiry of Mr. Whittier in re- 
gard to the line in " Skipper Ireson's Ride," re- 
ferring to " one-eyed Calendar's horse of brass." 
As a specimen of the letters he received, take this 

^ An anthentio yersion of the story of Captain Benjamin 
Ireson may be fonnd in the History and Traditions of Marblehead ^ 
by Samuel Koads, Jr. Of this Mr. Whittier said in a letter to 
Mr. Roads : — 

*' I haye now no donbt that thy yersion of Skipper Ireson is the 
correct one. My verse was solely founded on a fragment of rhyme 
which I heard from one of my early schoolmates, a native of 
Marblehead. I supposed the story to which it referred dated 
back at least a century. I knew nothing of the particulars, and 
the narrative of the ballad was pure fancy. I am glad, for the 
sake of truth and justice, that the real facts are given in thy 
book. I certainly would not knowingly do injustice to any one, 
dead or living." 


one from Gail Hamilton, written from Washington, 
April4, 1882: — 

" What do you mean by ' one-eyed Calendar's 
horse -of brass'? I have always trotted him 
calmly up and down as the famous horse of brass 
on which the Tartar king did ride — but when I 
turn to the Tartar king himself, I do not see any 
one-eyed Calendar among the Cambuscans bold. 
1 thought I knew all about it, but find I don't. 
I went up to the Congressional library yesterday, 
and even Mr. Spofford, who knows everything, 
knew not this. Master Whittier, rise and explain 1 
I am sure there never was any such person. Thee 
made it all up." 

Whether Mr. Whittier ever answered this ques- 
tion we do not know, but if he had looked up his 
authorities, he would have been obliged to confess 
that his memory had proved treacherous in regard 
to the tale of the one-eyed Calendar in the " Ara- 
bian Nights." There were three Calendars, and 
it was not the one with the horse of brass who had 
his eye switched out by his horse's tail. The one 
with the black horse was he whom Whittier had 
in mind. But, as Gail Hamilton says, in a letter 
to the editor of this work : " I have no right to 
quarrel with any kind of a horse he chose to be- 
stride. If not the Arabian's, so much the worse 
for Arabia 1 " 

After forwarding " Skipper Ireson," and before 
hearing from it, he sent to Lowell " The Eve of 
Election," with the following note, dated October 
4 : " I send thee a night piece, which, if not as 
good as Parnell's, has at least the merit of present- 


ing American ideas, and the philosophy of Chris- 
tian Democracy. It pleases me, but that is no 
reason that it should anybody else. If it can have 
a place in the magazine for December, it is at thy 
service — if not, please return it. What 's thy de- 
cision as to Cap'n Ireson ? " 

As *' Skipper Ireson " was published in the 
December number, "The Eve of Election" was 
necessarily postponed, and it occurred to Mr. 
Whittier that it had better be sent to a weekly, 
that it might appear somewhat nearer to the elec- 
tion season for which it was written. He therefore 
wrote to Lowell, in December, offering to substi- 
tute for it another poem, "The Old Burying- 
Ground." The little piece of his sister's mentioned 
in his letter was " The Wedding Veil," which was 
published in the " Atlantic," and may be found in 
" Whittier's Poetical Works," vol. iv., p. 298 : — 

" I am inclined to think that ' The Eve of Elec- 
tion ' is better adapted, if published at all, to the 
* National Era ' than to the ' Atlantic' If thou 
wilt return it to me I will send in exchange an- 
other piece which I like very well, but which for 
my own sake, as well as that of the magazine, I 
wish thee and friend Underwood to return to me 
if it seems to you advisable, regarding it, as you 
should do, entirely from a critical point of view. 
This little piece purloined from my sister's writing- 
desk be good enough to return also, if not likely 
to be used, as she misses the manuscript, and sus- 
pects me of some mischief. I was in Boston a day 
or two ago, but had not time nor health to visit 
Cambridge, as I intended. Why don't you get 


Fremont to give you a paper on his mountain ex- 
periences ? His is a graphic pen, and an article 
from him would do something for the magazine." 

Mr. Lowell wrote that "The Eve of Election " 
would be held back, and Mr. Whittier then for- 
warded the promised lines about the old burying- 
ground ^ with this note : — 

*'I thank thee for holding back my election 
verses. I send thee herewith a picture of one of 
the features of our New England scenery — the 
old ' buryin'-ground.' I hope it will meet thy ap- 
proval, although it does [not] come up to my con- 
ception in all respects. The severe sickness of my 
mother has prevented my giving any thought to it 
since it was written. I shall be glad to surprise 
my sister with her printed verses in the stately 
* Atlantic' " 

On the first day of January, 1858, Mr. Whittier 
sent Fields some suggestions of changes in his 
burying-ground poem, and announced the death 
of his mother : " The entire piece has now to me 
a deep and solemn significance. It was written in 
part while watching at the sick-bed of my dear 
mother — now no longer with us. She passed 
away a few days ago, in the beautiful serenity of a 
Christian faith — a quiet and peaceful dismissal. 
The mighty bereavement overwhelms us. May 
God enable us to bear it, and improve its holy 
lesson 1 " 

On the 10th of January, 1858, Mr. Sumner 
sent this note from Boston : — 

^ This poem was written with a thonght of the ancient ceme- 
tery at East Hayerhill, near Rocks Village. 


■ ^■LS'-^-'i-^'iy^W' 


"I constantly think of you and long for the 
sound of your voice or at least the sight of your 
most welcome hand-writing. How fares the world 
with you ? And chiefly, how is your health ? I 
have had for some time disability enough to 
secure a respite for you. But mine, thank God ! 
is passing away — slowly but surely. Meanwhile 
I am doomed to silence and repose. This is hard 
— very hard, and at times makes me very un- 
happy. God bless you 1 dear Whittier." 

This is Whittier's reply, written the next day : 

" During the last few weeks I have been watch- 
ing by the bedside of my dear mother, — follow- 
ing her in love and sympathy to the .very entrance 
of the valley of shadows. She is no longer with 
us. The end was one of exceeding peace — a 
quiet and beautiful dismissal. We are stunned 
by the great bereavement. The world looks far 
less than it did when she was with us. Half the 
motive power of life is lost. ... I meant to have 
seen thee before the session and visited Boston. 
My dear mother, then ill, urged me to go, as she 
wished me to see thee and Colonel Fremont, who 
was then in the city. . . . Only think of it — De- 
mocracy divided against itself — Douglas against 
Buchanan 1 Thee can afford to be silent, when the 
Divine Providence looks, as of old, from clouds of 
fire, and troubles the tent of the Egyptians and 
takes off their chariot wheels so that they drive 

The next poem sent to the " Atlantic " was 
« The Bees of Femside," afterward entitled " Tell- 
ing the Bees." It was sent to Lowell in a note 


dated February 16, 1858 : " I send thee a bit of 
rhyme which pleases me, and yet I am not quite 
sure about it. What I call simplicity may be 
only silliness, and my poor bantling only fit to be 
handed over to Dr. Howe's school for feeble- 
minded children. But I like it and hope better 
things of it. Look it over and let me hear from 
thee, if but aline." 

Six days later he wrote to make some changes. 
The allusion in the last sentence of the following 
note is to the fact that he had been recently elected 
an overseer of Harvard College,^ in which institu- 
tion Lowell was a professor. "I wish to hear 
from thee in regard to the piece — if thou hast 
any doubts about it, send it back to me, without 
troubling thyself to explain why or wherefore. I 
shall be sure it is for good and sufficient reason. 
But at any rate let me hear from thee in some 
way. If thee fail to do this, I shall turn thee out 
of thy professor's chair, by virtue of my new office 
of overseer." 

The place Mr. Whittier had in mind in writing 
" Telling the Bees " was his birthplace. There 
were beehives on the garden terrace near the well- 
sweep, occupied, perhaps, by the descendants of 
Thomas Whittier's bees. The approach to the 
house from over the northern shoulder of Job's 

1 In February, 1858, Mr. Wliittier was elected by the leg^la- 
tnre a member of the Board of Overseers of Harvard Collegfe. 
In 1860 the honorary degree of Master of Arts was conferred 
upon him by the college, and in 1866, at the two hundred and 
fiftieth anniversary celebration of the college, he received the hon- 
orary degree of Doctor of Laws. He was elected a member of 
the Board of Trustees of Brown University in 1869. 


Hill by a path that was in constant use in his 
boyhood, and is still in existence, is accurately de- 
scribed in the poem. The " gap in the old wall " 
is still to be seen, and " the stepping-stones in the 
shallow brook " are still in use. His sister's gar- 
den was down by the brookside in front of the 
house, and her daffodils are perpetuated, and may 
now be found in their season each year in that 
place. The red-barred gate, the poplars, the cattle- 
yard with " the white horns tossing over the wall,'* 
— these were all part of Whittier's boy life on the 
old farm. Even the touch of " the sundown's blaze 
on her window-pane " is realistic. The only place 
from which the blaze of the setting sun could be 
seen reflected in the windows of the old mansion 
was from the path so perfectly described, and no 
doubt the poet had often noticed the phenomenon 
in his youth while approaching the house in this 
direction. All the story that is woven into the 
ballad about " Mary " and her lover is of course 
wholly imaginative. The poem was written more 
than twenty years after Mr. Whittier's removal to 
Amesbury, and his sister Mary was still living. 

On the 20th of January, 1858, Mr. Whittier 
wrote to Mr. Underwood : " Some days ago I sent 
my friend Lowell a copy of some lines, *The 
Pipes at Lucknow.' ^ I am not certain what his 
judgment was concerning them. If, however, he 
submitted them to thee, and there is any proba- 
bility of their appearance in the 'Monthly,' I 
would like to make an alteration in the last few 
lines of the first stanza, and to interpolate one 

1 Afterward recalled, and printed in the National Era, 


stanza.^ ... If friend Lowell, however, thinks the 
lines not quite up to the subject, or to his estimate 
of my ability, he is a true man and a true friend, 
and will act accordingly." 

While this ballad was in Lowell's hands, Whit* 
tier sent this note, dated April 10, 1858, suggest- 
ing a change, which was made; and the new 
stanza is one of the finest in the poem : — 

" After the verse in ' The Pipes at Lucknow,' 

closing with these lines, — 

'* God be praised ! The nuuoh of Havelook I 
The piping of the clans I 

I propose the insertion of these lines : — 

" Nearer, louder, fierce as yengeanoe, 

Sharp and shriU as swords at strife, 
Rose and fell MacGregor*s clan-caU 

Stinging aU the air to life. 
But when the far-off dust-cloud 

To pleaded legions grew, 
Full tenderly and blithesomelj 

The pipes of rescue blew I 

It is in strict accordance with the facts of the 
rescue. In the distance the beleaguered garrison 
heard the stern and vengeful slogan of the Mac- 
Gregors, but when the troops of Havelock came 
in view of the English flag still floating from the 
Residency, the pipers struck up the immortal air 
of Bums, ^Should auld acquaintance be forgot.' 
Excuse my troubling thee, and believe me very 
truly thy friend." 

Whittier's letters to the editors of the " Atlan- 
tic" make frequent conmient upon the work of 

^ The stanza to which reference is here made is the one begin- 

**Like the inarch of MimdleM music.'' 


other contributors. To Mr. Underwood he wrote 
in February, 1858 : "Dr. Holmes's * Autocrat 'is 
thrice excellent ; the little poem at its close [" The 
Chambered Nautilus "] is booked for immortal- 

This letter to Mr. Underwood, dated 6th 7th 
mo., 1858, refers to the change of a stanza in " Le 
Marais du Cygne " : — 

" I am heartily obliged to thee for thy kind sug- 
gestions. But see what has been the result of 
them ! Is the piece better or worse ? Who knows ? 
My sister thinks she does, and that I have altered 
it for the better. I hope it will strike thee and 
Lowell in the same way. The sweep and rhythm 
please me ; but I have had hard work to keep 
down my indignation. I feel a good deal more 
like a wild Berserker than like a carpet minstrel, 
* with his singing robes about him,' when record- 
ing atrocities like that of Swan's Marsh. I want 
a proof-sheet of it, as soon as may be, to send to 
Charles Sumner in advance of its publication. . . . 
There is not a dull page in the last 'Atlantic' 
If it could only be kept up to that point it would 
take the precedence by right of all magazines on 
either side of the Atlantic." 

Whittier's poem " The Cable Hymn," celebrat- 
ing the completion of the Atlantic cable, was pub- 
lished in the "Atlantic" of October, 1858. In 
his manuscript it was called " The Great Wire," 
and it was sent to Mr. Lowell in August. On the 
10th of that month, Mr. Whittier wrote to Mr. 
Underwood : — 

" In my haste yesterday I omitted an idea which 


seems to me necessary to my little poem on the 
* Great Wire.' After the fifth verse add the fol- 
lowing : — 

" Through Orient seas, o'er Afrio's plain, 
And Asian mountains borne, 
The vigor of the Northern brain 
Shall nerve the world outworn. 

'' From clime to clime, from shore to shore, 
Shall thrill the magic thread ; 
The new Prometheus steals once more 
The fire that wakes the dead. 

" I take it for granted that the September num- 
ber of the magazine is stereotyped; but you re- 
serve a few pages to notice recent events, and per- 
haps my little lyric may serve to close your article 
on the great event of the age. If so, as I suppose 
I cannot see the proof, please look to it carefully. 
The value of a poem like this depends upon its 
timely publication. At the risk of calling to mind 
' Mons. Tonson come again,' I venture to suggest 
for the verse in my poem closing with the line 
" Clasp hands beneath the sea, 

the following as more clear and definite : — 

*' And one in heart as one in blood 
Shall all her peoples be : 
The hands of human brotherhood 
Shall clasp beneath the sea. 

" The last number of the magazine is ' excellent 
well.' Emerson is outdoing himself, and the ' Au- 
tocrat ' is better and better. The love passage be- 
tween him and the sweet school-mistress is inimita- 
ble. Boston Common is henceforth classic ground." 

After Taylor's return from Eussia and Norway, 


in 1858, he was lecturing in New England, and 
Whittier wrote him this note, dated Amesbury, 
10th 12th mo. : " Can thee not make us a call be- 
fore leaving New England ? We want a lecture 
from thee, and that old pocket-book, which thee 
remembers was so ostentatiously displayed at the 
close of thy lecture some years ago, is good for 
$40. But lecture, or none, come and see us. Our 
dear mother can no longer welcome thee, but sis- 
ter and I shall be glad to see thee. Elizabeth 
expects the feather-pocket from Lof oden ! " 

The poem now entitled "The Preacher" was 
originally called " The Great Awakening," and it 
was sent to the " Atlantic," as was also " The Red 
River Voyageur," and recalled for publication 
in the " National Era " by the following note to 
Lowell, dated December 29, 1858. The same note 
inclosed a poem that was soon after published in 
the "Atlantic": "I send herewith * The Double- 
Headed Snake of Newbury.' If it is suited for 
your meridian, use it. As to the other two pieces, 
' The Great Awakening,' and ' The Voyageur on 
the Red River,' do me the favor to return them by 
the bearer of this, the expressman between your 
city and Amesbury, I want them immediately. 
. . . Mrs. Stowe's story ["The Minister's Woo- 
ing"] opens admirably. I wish, however, she 
would give more local coloring and atmosphere to 
her picture, so that we may know what part of the 
world we are in, in what age, as respects costume, 
etc., and what climate. In other respects the tale 
is very striking in its promise." 

" The Double-Headed Snake of Newbury," here 


referred to, appeared in the " Atlantic " of March, 
1859. " The Northman's written rock," to which 
reference is made in this poem, was reported to be 
on a ledge in what is now the town of Groveland, 
about one fourth of a mile east of the road from 
West Newbury to Georgetown. The inscription 
has not been found of late years, but a sketch of 
it was made in 1854, and published in the " New 
England Historical and Genealogical Register," 
vol. viii. The surface of the rock is now mossy 
and seamed, and imdergoing a process of disinte- 
gration. In a note to Mr. Underwood about this 
poem, Whittier says, " My sister thinks it good ; 
and I defer to her judgment — when it is agreeable 
to my wishes." 

"The Red River Voyageur" was suggested by 
reading a work on Manitoba, by J. W. Bond, who 
was the historiographer of the expedition of Gov- 
ernor Ramsey to Pembina in 1851. This passage, 
referring to the vesper bell of St. Boniface, must 
have been the kernel from which the poem grew : 
" As I pass slowly along the lonely road that leads 
me from thee, Selkirk, mine eyes do turn continu- 
ally to gaze upon thy smiling, golden fields, and 
the lofty towers of St. Boniface, now burnished 
with the rays of the departing sun, while the sweet 
vesper bell reverberates afar and strikes so mourn- 
fully pleasant upon mine ear. I feel satisfied 
that, though absent thousands of weary miles, my 
thoughts will always dwell on thee with rapturous 
emotions." This church was burned in 1860. The 
bells fell and were broken. Their fragments were 
collected from the ruins, sent to London and recast 

« THE PRE A CHER " 421 

by their original founder, and, recrossing the At- 
lantic, took their place in the tower of the new 
cathedral of St. Boniface, where their chimes may 
be heard to-day, on memorable state occasions, very 
rarely in honor of American personages or events. 
They greeted General Sherman in 1880, and in 
1882, when the Misses Banning of St. Paid, elocu- 
tionists, gave an eifective rendering of Whittier's 
poem, the bells were again rung, in their honor, 
by order of the archbishop. 

A scoffer in a Kansas parish was making use of 
some of the lines in " The Preacher," whereupon a 
clergyman in the place wrote to Mr. Whittier for 
an explanation of his meaning. He received the 
following note in reply, dated March 9, 1891 : 
"The lines referred to by thy lay anti-church 
friend had no reference to the present time. They 
were in a poem called ' The Preacher,' and relate 
to the condition of New England religion just 
before the ' Great Awakening ' or revival under 
Edwards and Whitefield one hundred and fifty 
years ago. ... I think the church and ministry 
at the present time are most commendably active 
in works of love and mercy. Our Christianity is 
becoming practical, caring for the temporal as well 
as spiritual welfare of the people. More and more 
the world is learning that the true plan of salva- 
tion is love to God and love to man." 

The friend to whom reference is made in the 
prelude to " The Preacher," as accompanying the 
author in a walk to the siunmit of the Whittier 
hill in Amesbury, which overlooks the chain bridge 
at Deer Island and the steeples of more distant 


Newbiiryport, was Lucy Larcom. In a letter to 
Miss Larcom, written in 1860, lie says: "The 
poem on Whitefield was written long ago. I 
added an introduction to it, in which I attempted 
to describe the sunset in the Merrimao valley, 
which we looked on together from Whittier hill." 

In 1881, Governor John D. Long, of Massachu- 
setts, incorporated in his Thanksgiving proclama- 
tion the poem of Whittier's entitled "Grarden." 
The poem was written to be sung at an agricul- 
tural and horticultural fair in Amesbury, in 1858. 
The next year it was translated into Portuguese 
by Dom Pedro, Emperor of Brazil, and read at 
a harvest festival. It has been translated into 
Italian, and sung by peasants at the gathering of 
the vintage. In this country it has served at 
the festivals of many state agricultural societies. 
Under date November 15, 1881, a fortnight be- 
fore Thanksgiving Day, a lady friend in Boston 
wrote to Mr. Whittier : " I was coming through 
a pooif street day before yesterday, and in the win- 
dow of a wretched little shop I saw the broadside 
upon which the Thanksgiving proclamation was 
printed. It was a place where the light never 
seemed to shine, and I saw two wretched-looking 
wayfarers peering in and reading * O Painter of 
the fruits and flowers.' It was one of the highest 
joys of achievement to see these people reading a 
poem, perhaps for the first time in their lives, and 
getting from it something of that ^ unreasoning joy * 
which is the soul's continual warrant of immortal- 
ity. I felt grateful, as it were, for your sake, if 
you will forgive this vicarious satisfaction." 


The poem " In Remembrance of Joseph Sturge," 
ai^ originally published in the " Independent," in 
1859, lacked the next to the last stanza, which was 
sent on a proof-sheet that failed to arrive in sea- 
son: — 

" The forges glow, the hammers all are ringiog; 
Beneath its smoky yeil,^ 
Hard by, the city of his love is swinging 
Its clamorous iron flaiL" 

The biting sarcasm of the poem " From Perugia," 
written in 1859, shows the intensity of interest felt 
by Whittier in the contest for liberty in Italy. 
Indeed, wherever among men of any race or na- 
tionality there was a revolt against tyranny, to 
them the quick sympathy of Whittier went out, 
and he gave it expression as freely as he spoke for 
the slaves of America. This poem was first called 
"Rome, 1859," and it was sent in September 
to the " Atlantic," then edited by James Eussell 
LoweU; soon afterwards Mr. Whittier wrote to 
F. H. Underwood, assistant editor, recalling the 
poem, but accidentally failed to mail the note. 
The following letter to Lowell, dated Amesbury, 
10th 10th mo., 1859, gives some further details of 
the history of the poem : " Some two weeks ago 
I sent, as I supposed, the inclosed letter to Mr. 
Underwood, recalling my poem * Rome, 1859,' and 
stating that I thought of publishing it elsewhere. 
By sheer accident, I have just found the letter, 
which, written during illness, was not put in the 
post-office, as I supposed. Some days ago I sent 
a copy of the poem to the ^ Independent,' taking it 

^ The -word *' yeil " in many successiTe editions of Mr. Whit- 
tier's works was misprinted *' yale." 


for granted that all was right as respected the 
' Atlantic/ and I fear it is now too late to prevent 
its appearance in that paper. I have telegraphed 
to stop it. If, however, the piece is in type and 
worked o£E for the magazine, and the ' Independent ' 
also, can you not append a note to that effect ? " 

This letter was received in season to prevent the 
publication of the poem in the " Atlantic," and it 
appeared in the " Independent," October 27, 1859. 
As first* printed, it was without the first four stan- 
zas of " From Perugia," and began : — 

" OfP with hats, down with knees, shout your vivas like mad." 

As in the case of the " Texas " poems in 1844, 
Whittier and Lowell were in this instance inspired 
simultaneously with the same theme, and oddly 
enough they took almost the same title. Whittier 
first named his poem " Rome, 1859," and after- 
wards changed it to " From Perugia " ; Lowell 
called his poem at first " Italy, 1859," and it was 
published in the " Atlantic," December, 1859, 
three months after he had in his possession the 
poem of Whittier's, which was recalled. There 
can be no doubt he had already written his " Italy, 
1859," or he would not have taken a title so nearly 
like Whittier's upon the same subject. In Low- 
ell's collected works this poem is called "Villa 
Franca, 1859." 

Several poems written by Mr. Whittier in 1859 
and 1860 bear witness to his sympathy with the 
struggles and the triumphs of Garibaldi. He had 
previously written " The Prisoner of Naples " and 
*' The Dream of Pio Nono." The first stanzas of 


the poem " In Remembrance of Joseph Sturge " 
refer to the death of King Bomba of Naples. 
Then came the poem " Italy," remarkable for its 
recognition of the necessity of war in some great 
crises of history ; next, " Naples," wherein a father 
is comforted for the loss of a loved daughter in 
Italy, by the consideration that she has found her 
grave in a land at last consecrated to liberty. 

On the 8th of December, 1859, Whittier sent 
this note to Sumner upon his return to hia sena- 
torial duties with improved health, and expressed 
his feelings in regard to the then fresh Harper's 
Ferry incident : ^ " How glad I am to hear of thy 
return with increased health ! Earlier welcomes 
thou hast doubtless had, but none warmer than 
mine. May God, who has restored thee, give thee 
strength and wisdom for the crisis which in his 
Providence seems close at hand. I inclose a scrap 
from our village paper in which I have expressed 
my views of the Harper's Ferry outbreak. I am 
anxious that our Republican members of Congress 
should meet the matter fairly, and unequivocally 
condemn all filibustering, whether for freedom or 
slavery. I like Trumbull's motion — Harper's 
Ferry is the natural result of the slaveholders' 
forays into Kansas, and both should be considered 
together. The distinction should be made clear 
between the natural sympathy with the man and 
approval of his mad and, as I think, most danger- 

^ In a letter to a friend dated December 2, 1859, he says : 
" What a sad tragedy to-day in Virginia I I feel deep sympathy 
for John Brown, but deplore from my heart his rash and insane 
attempt. It injures the cause he sought to serre.'* 


ous and unjustifiable act. The North is sound on 
this point — there are few who approve of the raid 
over the border." 

In his note in reply to this, under date of Decem- 
ber 12, 1859, Mr. Sumner says : " At last I am well 
again, with only the natural solicitude as to the 
effect of work and the constant pressure of affairs 
on a system which is not yet hardened and an- 
nealed. My physician enjoins for the present cau- 
tion and a gradual resumption of my old activities." 

The poem called "The Playmate" when first 
published, and now "My Playmate," was when 
written called " Eleanor," as will be seen by the 
following note to James Russell Lowell, written 
January 10, 1860. The stanza last quoted in this 
note does not appear in the poem in the magazine ; 
it was probably eliminated in the proof. 

" In transcribing ' Eleanor ' yesterday I did not 
give one verse I would like to add now, following 
the one concluding thus : — 

*^ The dusky children of the sun 
Before her come and go. 

Then add: — 

" There haply with her jeweled hands 
She smooths her silken gown, — 
No more the homespun lap wherein 
I shook the walnuts down. 

The verse immediately following I would have 
read thus : — 

** I linger hy her native streams, 
I haunt her hills of pine, 
And wonder if her gold-brown hair 
Is thin and g^ay as mine. 

"JfF PLAYMATE'* 427 

"Pardon the trouble, and let me have a proof of 
the piece, if it is printed," 

On the 3d of February he wrote in regard to 
the same poem : " From not receiving the proof I 
presume my little poem will not appear in the next 
number of the ' Atlantic' I would like to see the 
piece in print before it is irrevocably ' worked o£E.' 
My sister tells me the last verse but one is not in 
keeping with the others ; that I have marred by it 
the simplicity of the poem — that the idea is not 
fuUy expressed, etc. I think she is right, and 
would like to put the following in its place : — 

^ The winds so sweet with birch and fern 
A sweeter memory blow ; 
And there in spring the yeeries sing 
The song of long ago." 

Mr. Whittier was not yet quite done with im- 
proving this poem. On the 18th of February, he 
again wrote to Lowell about it. The editor had 
probably suggested a change of the name of the 
hills and woods mentioned in the first and last 
stanzas, and Mr. Whittier selects the musical name 
of Eamoth : " I have made sad work with the in- 
closed proof. I have at thy hint dropped the old 
name, and taken that of another hill, omitting the 
* Gilead ' which is affixed to it ; * and to give\he 
thing a local stand-point, I have introduced the 
neighboring woods of FollymiU, ^ famous hereaway 
for their mayflowers, or ground laurel. I hope 

1 A hill in South Hampton, N. H., only a few miles from Ames- 
bnry, nsed to be called Ramoth-Gilead. 

^ The FoUymin woods are frequently referred to in the letters 
of Mr. Whittier to his friends, usually those written in the 
season of mayflowers. 


it is all the better for the changes. I wish thee to 
see that the revised proof is all right." 

Miss Porter reports a conversation with Lord 
Tennyson, in 1892, in which he said of Whittier's 
poem " My Playmate," " It is a perfect poem ; in 
some of his descriptions of scenery and wild flow- 
ers, he would rank with Wordsworth." 

In a letter to Whittier dated January 27, 1860, 
Mr. Sumner refers to the suspension of the ameni- 
ties of social life at Washington, such was the bit- 
terness of sectional feeling. The foreign ministers 
were obliged to invite their guests by sections. 
Sumner says: "Society is disturbed; the diplo- 
mats cannot give a dinner without studying their 
lists as a protocol." 

Here is Whittier's note of congratulation upon 
Sumner's speech on the " Barbarism of Slavery " : 
" I have just finished reading the speech. It is 
all I could wish for it. It takes the dreadful ques- 
tion out of the region of party and expediency, and 
holds it up in the clear sun-blaze of truth and rea- 
son — in all its deformity, and with the blackness 
of the pit clinging about it. In the light of that 
speech the civilized world will now see American 
slavery as it is. There is something really awful 
in its Khadamanthan severity of justice : but it 
was needed. It especially rejoices thy personal 
friends to see in the speech such confirmation of 
thy complete restoration to health and strength of 
body and mind. It was the task of a giant. Our 
cause has sustained great loss in the death of Theo- 
dore Parker. How he would have rejoiced over 
thy portraiture of the Barbarism of Slavery ! " 


In June, 1860, in response to an earnest in- 
vitation from Bayard Taylor to visit him at Cedar- 
croft Whittier wrote : " I have told Elizabeth so 
much about thy Marie that she wants to see her 
exceedingly. I hope almost against hope that we 
shall be able to visit you in your new home this 
fall, where we will plant our trees of friendship 
and enjoy ourselves. I wish I was a better trav- 
eler ; if I could keep pace with you I would join 
you at the mountains instead of sending this note. 
I travel a great deal, however, by proxy. I have 
had thee in my service for many years, very much 
to my satisfaction. Dr. Booth has been to Tim- 
buctoo for me, and Burton to Mecca. Atkinson 
has been doing Siberia for me. I think (if thy 
Marie does not object) of sending thee ofiE again 
to find Xanadu and Kubla Khan." 

All that Mr. Whittier says of " Cobbler Keezar" 
in his note upon the poem is that " he was a noted 
character among the first settlers in the valley of 
the Merrimac," but we find something more about 
him in Mirick's " History of Haverhill," ^ and this 
additional information was no doubt furnished to 
that work by Mr. Whittier. On the occasion of 
the Haverhill massacre of August 29, 1708, we 
are told, the savages were discovered, in the 
vicinity of the village,' by John Keezar, who was 
returning from Amesbury. He ran into the village, 
and by firing his gun alarmed the inhabitants, who 
were sleeping totally unguarded. It was the fact 
that Keezar was wont to pitch his tent on Po Hill 

1 Page 179. See also Whittier' s Prose Works, vol. ii., pp. 375 


and mend the foot-gear of the Amesbury people 
that suggested to the poet the use of his name as 
the seer of the wonderful vision revealed by the 
magic lapstone. When this ballad was sent to 
Fields for the " Atlantic," in 1860, it was accom- 
panied by the following note : " I send thee an 
absurd ballad which I like ybr its absurdity. Read 
it, and let me know whether thee think it worth 
submitting to Lowell, It is just what * Harper ' 
would like, but I would like better to see it in the 
Maga., if it is proper for it. I am greatly obliged 
to the writer of the notice of my poems in the last 
'Atlantic,' — Lowell, I suppose. ... I have used 
the Yankee word ' woodsy ' instead of * woody ' in 
the ballad." 

With such an editor and such a corps of con- 
tributors as the " Atlantic Monthly " was favored 
with, it could not fail of success. Its readers were 
si^re of seeing in each number the best work of 
the best writers in America, set forth under the 
skillful editorship of one abeady recognized as a 
prince in the realm of letters. Contributors were 
stimulated and encouraged by receiving adequate 
payment for their service. The great principles 
underlying the contest with the slave power were 
set forth in its editorial pages with entire freedom 
from the rancor of partisan politics. When the 
civil war began, the " Atlantic " placed the flag on 
its cover, and there it remained until the war 
ended, — an emblem of its devotion to the cause 
of the Union. 

Whittier's prophetic soul recognized the tran- 
scendent importance of the issues involved in the 


presidential election of 1860, and Hs political work 
that year was as earnest and continuous as we have 
seen it was when he was writing campaign hymns 
for Fremont and for free Kansas. His lines in 
" The Summons," published in the " Atlantic " in 
the summer of 1860, show the devoted spirit of the 
man. After publishing this poem, he feared that 
it had a tone of censure for other literary men who 
had not appeared to realize the gravity of the sit- 
uation in which their country was placed, and he 
made this reference to it in a letter to Lucy Lar- 
com : " I do not quite like the tone of * The Sum- 
mons,' now that it is published. It was, however, 
an expression of a state of mind which thee would 
regard as pardonable if thee knew all the circum- 
stances. It is too complaining^ and I hope I shall 
not be left to do such a thing again." 

The campaign song " The Quakers are Out ! " 
was written to be sung at a Kepublican mass meet- 
ing held in Newburyport, October 11, 1860. Much 
anxiety had been expressed during the summer in 
regard to Pennsylvania, the vote of which State it 
was thought would decide the contest. If the 
Quakers could be -aroused, Pennsylvania could be 
counted upon as safe for Abraham Lincoln, and 
as the state election occurred several weeks before 
the presidential, the result of that election would 
indicate whether Quakerism was thoroughly waked 
up to the importance of the contest. The state 
election was satisfactory to the Republicans, and 
jubilant mass meetings celebrated the event 
throughout the North. Mr. Whittier's relief from 
intense anxiety is shown in these verses predicting 


the election of Lincoln in November. They were 
printed on a leaflet, headed " A Voice from John 

G. Whittier:" — 


Kot vainly we waited and counted the hours, 
[ The bnds of our hope have all burst into flowers. 
No room for misgiving — no loop-hole of doubt, — 
We 've heard from the Keystone I The Quakers are out. 

The plot has exploded — we 've found out the trick ; 
The bribe goes a-begging ; the fusion won't stick. 
When the Wide-awake lanterns are shining about, 
The rogues stay at home, and the true men are out I 

The good State has broken the cords for her spun ; 
Her oil-springs and water won't fuse into one ; 
The Dutchman has seasoned with Freedom his krontf 
And slow, late, but certain, the Quakers are out I 

Give the flags to the winds ! set the hills all aflame I 
Make way for the man with the Patriarch's name I 
Away with misgiving — away with all doubt, 
For Lincoln goes in when the Quakers are out I 

The news of Lincoln's election in November, 
1860, was received by Mr. Whittier with devout 
thankfulness. He wrote to Lucy Larcom: "I 
agree with thee that 'hallelujah' is better than 
* hurra!'" 

During the winter the air was full of proposi- 
tions offered by patriotic citizens with a view of 
propitiating the slave States, and preventing their 
threatened secession. Seward made two speeches 
of this nature, to which Sumner refers in a letter 
to Whittier, dated February 5, 1861 : " I deplore 
Seward's speeches. The first he read to me, and I 
supplicated him not to make it. The true-hearted 


here have been filled with grief and mortification. 
People are anxious to save our forts, to save our 
national capital; but I am more anxious far to 
save our principles^ which leaders now propose to 
abandon, as Mr. Buchanan proposed to abandon 
Fort Sumter. The public pride arrested the lat- 
ter ; I hope the public conscience may arrest the 
former. My old saying is revived in my mind. 
Backbone^ — this especially is needed here. If 
we are saved, it wiU be by events, and not by man. 
The inordinate demands of the slave States will 
make it next to impossible to appease them ; even 
compromise cannot go so far. If they asked less 
we should be lost. Pray keep Massachusetts firm 
and strong. She must not touch a word of her 
personal liberty laws. The slightest act of surren- 
der by her would be a signal for the abasement of 
the free States.*' 

The following letter of Whittier's shows by its 
date that it was written while Sumner's was on its 
way to him. It is dated February 6, 1861 : " If 
I recollect rightly, in a speech of thine some time 
ago, thee suggested the plan of compensation on 
the part of the general government for the eman- 
cipation of slaves in any State that might under- 
take to throw off the burden and curse of slavery. 
Am I right in the matter ? Would it not be weU, 
while calmly and firmly maintaining on our part 
the principles of freedom, to renew the offer, as a 
pledge and proof of our willingness to make great 
sacrifices in behalf of those of the slave States 
which are disposed to rid themselves of the dan- 
gers and guilt of slavery? It may be that the 


offer would be rejected by all, but the moral effect 
of it would not be lost. It would show the slave- 
holders that we do not hate them, but slavery only. 
. . . For the sake of the truly Union men of the 
Border States, I would do anything short of aban< 
donment of principles to extricate them from their 
imhappy position. They need our kindest regards 
and sympathy. I inclose a scrap from the * Port- 
land Transcript,' an extract from one of my bro- 
ther Matthew F. Whittier's * Ethan Spike ' letters, 
which is a clever take-off and caricature of South- 
em secession." 

In a letter written a few days earlier he ex- 
pressed a willingness to pay for runaway slaves 
rather than catch them : '^ As to slave-rendition, 
the great body of our people can no more hunt 
slaves than commit cannibalism. We simply can't 
catch runaways ; we may as well be honest and say 
so. But we are ready to pay for them, and that 
ought to satisfy anybody outside of South Car- 
olina. . . . Tell our friend Wilson that if he 
speaks in defense of Massachusetts to make no 
apologies for us. What the old State has done is 
right. She has been loyal and kept her faith 
under severest provocation. As to John Brown- 
ism, a few individuals cannot make her responsible 
for their folly. Our good Governor Andrew made 
a blunder in the speech at the meeting, which, if 
he is not sorry for, thousands of his best friends 
are. He was elected governor not on account of 
that speech, but in spite of it^ — on account of his 
great and deserved popularity, and the universal 
conviction of his integrity." ^ 


Mr. Wbittier's sonnet " To William H. Seward " 
was written immediately after his speech in the 
Senate which was supposed to outline the policy 
of the incoming administration. This speech had 
not given entire satisfaction to the more radical 
wing of the anti-slavery party, and yet it was felt 
that it was as much as could properly be expected, 
considering all the difficulties of the situation. 
The poem was originally published in William 
Cullen Bryant's paper, the " New York Even- 
ing Post," early in February, 1861. 

On the 1st of February, Mr. Whittier wrote 
to W. S. Thayer, Washington correspondent of 
the " New York Evening Post " (a son of his 
old friend, A. W. Thayer) : "Tell Mr. Seward I 
have bound him to good behavior in my verse — 
and that if he yields the ground upon which the 
election was carried and consents to the further 
extension of slavery he will ' compromise ' me as 
well as the country and himself. God give him 
strength and wisdom and moderation and firmness I 
If I were a ' righteous man ' my prayers would be 
* effectual ' for him ; at any rate they are ' fervent.' 
The South by their madness are assuming all the 
responsibility of whatever painful duty may be im- 
posed upon the government. It may be the will 
of God that slavery shall perish through their 
folly and crime. If so, all the people will say 
Amen ! I do not see any good to result from the 
4th of February conclave. Ere that time, there is 
likely to be open war on the Gulf, and the whole 
matter put beyond the reach of committees and 


In response to an invitation to attend a mass 
meeting in Boston, in February, 1861, held to con- 
sider the political situation, Mr. Whittier wrote to 
F. H. Underwood : " My lines addressed to Gov- 
ernor Seward were intended to be admonitory as 
well as commendatory, I hoped to give him such 
a kindly hint that he could take it and profit by it, 
without offense or pride of opinion interfering to 
counteract it. But I begin to have serious fears 
that the new administration is entering, like its 
predecessors, in the downward path of ' compro- 
mise.' For myself, I would like to maintain the 
Union if it could be the Union of our fathers. 
But if it is to be in name only ; if the sacrifices 
and concessions upon which it lives must all be 
made by the Free States to the Slave; if the 
peaceful victories of the ballot-box are to be 
turned into defeats by threats of secession ; if 
rebellion and treason are to be encouraged into a 
standing menace, a power above law and Constitu- 
tion, demanding perpetual sacrifice, I, for one, shall 
not lift a hand against its dissolution. As to fight- 
ing, in any event, to force hack the seceders, I see 
no sense in it. Let them go on with their mad ex- 
periment, the government simply holding its own, 
and enforcing its revenue laws, until this whole 
matter can be fairly submitted to the people for 
their final adjudication. I have great doubts of 
the wisdom of sending commissioners to Washing- 
ton, but I am well satisfied with the selection in 
our State." 

This note to Lydia Maria Child was written on 
the 1st of April, 1861, and gives free expression to 


his disgust at the efforts of certain clergymen and 
politicians to make more compromises to save the 
Union : " A thousand thanks for giving us that 
wonderful book ' Linda.' We have read it with 
the deepest interest. It ought to be circulated 
broadcast over the land. I laid it down with a 
deeper abhorrence than ever of the Fugitive Slave 
Law. Has thee seen Dr. Adams's new book ? It 
is the foulest blasphemy ever put in type — but 
weak as it is wicked. Get it ; it is a curiosity of 
devilish theology worth studying. — What is to be 
the end of this disunion turmoil ? I cannot but 
hope that, in spite of the efforts of politicians and 
compromises, the Great Nuisance is to fall off from 
us ; and we are to be a free people." 

Mrs. Child relates this anecdote of Mr. Whit- 
tier, who with his sister paid her a visit in 1860 : 
" Whittier complained of time wasted and strength 
exhausted by people who came to see him out of 
mere curiosity, or to put up with him to save a 
penny. His sister described some of these irrup- 
tions amusingly in her slow, Quakerly fashion. 
* Thee has no idea,' she said, ' how much time 
Greenleaf spends trying to lose these people in 
the streets. Sometimes he comes home and says, 
" Well, sister, I had hard work to lose him, but I 
have lost him.' " ' But I can never lose a Aer,' said 
Whittier ; * the women are more pertinacious than 
the men ; don't thee find them so, Maria ? ' I told 
him I did. ^ How does thee manage to get time to 
do anything ? ' said he. I told him I took care to 
live away from the railroad and kept a bulldog and 
a pitchfork, and I advised him to do the same." 


Mrs. Child was no Quaker, but she had the spirit 
of one in her independence of the fashions in dress. 
Her bonnets were notably antique in style. On 
one occasion she called on Mr. Whittier at the 
house of a common friend in Boston. After her 
departure, he sat musing, and then soliloquized, 
" It must be so ; I cannot be mistaken 1 " " What 
must be so ? " queried his hostess. He continued, 
" Yes, I know I must be right — certainly I have 
made no mistake 1 " At length he exclaimed with 
a triumphant air, " Our friend, Mrs. Child, has a 
new bonnet ! " The incident is characteristic ; 
for Mr. Whittier was always observant of dress, 
and was in the habit of commenting upon it among 
his friends. 




When the dreadful arbitrament of war could 
not be avoided, distressing as it must Lave been to 
one the habit of whose life was that of peaceful 
philanthropy, Whittier could not retire from the 
field, but gave frequent expression of his views in 
prose and verse. If he had written nothing else, 
his poems " In War Time " would make for him 
an imperishable monument. In his maturer years 
war had no such charm for his imagination as 
that to which he confessed in his earlier years, 
when he was conscious of a spirit " warring in his 
members " against the peaceful thoughts and ways 
of the Society of Friends, exciting in his blood a 
certain " joy of battle." He has given expression 
to the feeling in " The Training," included in his 
"Prose Works."! 

The warlike tone of some of Mr. Whittier's 
earlier poems, such as that written on the occasion 
of the death of Bolivar, serves to show what lyrics 
might have been expected from his maturer years, 
had not his Quaker scruples in regard to war re- 
strained his pen, and rendered even his intense love 
of freedom subservient to what he regarded as the 


Christian rule of life and practice. The only con- 
siderations that reconciled him to the civil war 
were its inevitability, and a trust, which was never 
shaken, that an omniscient mind took note of all 
its details and an all-powerful hand would control 
its results. . In his poem " Italy," he has given ex- 
pression to this confidence : — 

** God reig^, and let the earth rejoice I 

I bow before his sterner plan. 

Dumb are the organs of my choice ; 

He speaks in battle's stormy voice, 

His praise is in the wrath of man I 

'* Yet, snrely as He liyes, the day 

Of peace He promised shall be ours, 

To fold the flags of war, and lay 

Its sword and spear to rust away, 

And sow its ghastly fields with flowers I *' 

The consciences of the older members of the 
Society of Friends were sorely troubled when they 
found themselves in the midst of a war which they 
were powerless to avert, and the objects of which 
had so enlisted the sympathies and patriotic im- 
pulses of their sons that many of them were enlist- 
ing in the military service of the country. In this 
emergency it was felt that while they must bear 
testimony as a Society against war, yet they had 
duties as citizens to perform in behalf of their 
country, and in mitigation of the inevitable evils of 
the conflict. In June, 1861, Mr. Whittier was 
moved to issue a circular letter addressed "To 
Members of the Society of Friends," containing 
suggestions as to ways in which the philanthropy of 
the sect might properly find expression. In this 
circular, which was dated Amesbury, 18th 6th mo., 
1861, he said, among other things : — 


** We have no right to ask or expect an exemp- 
tion from the chastisement which the Divine Prov- 
idence is inflicting upon the nation. Steadily 
and faithfully maintaining our testimony against 
war, we owe it to the cause of truth, to show that 
exalted heroism and generous self-sacrifice are not 
incompatible with our pacific principles. Our mis- 
sion is, at this time, to mitigate the sufferings of 
our countrymen, to visit and aid the sick and the 
woimded, to relieve the necessities of the widow 
and the orphan, and to practice economy for the 
sake of charity. Let the Quaker bonnet be seen 
by the side of the black hood of the Catholic Sis- 
ter of Charity in the hospital ward. Let the same 
heroic devotion to duly which our brethren in 
Great Britain manifested in the Irish famine and 
pestilence be reproduced on this side of the water, 
in mitigating the horrors of war and its attendant 
calamities. What hinders us from holding up the 
hands of Dorothea Dix in her holy work of mercy 
at Washington ? Our society is rich, and of those 
to whom much is given much will be required in 
this hour of proving and trial.'* 

Throughout the war Mr. Whittier's pen was 
^constantly urging that slavery was at the bottom 
of the trouble, and that there could be no durable 
peace until it was extirpated. He had a large cor- 
respondence with public men in this country and 
in England, and did not fail to urge this view of 
the case, at every opportunity. Before the first 
acts of war, his thought was to let the seceding 
States go in peace. In " A Word for the Hour," 
written in January, 1861, he said : — 


'* They break the links of Uxdon fshall we Hght 
The fires of hell to weld anew the chain 
On that red an-vil where each blow is pain ? *' 

The poems written during the war appeared in 
the " Atlantic " and in the " New York Independ- 
ent ; " when he wished to reach the public ear 
promptly, and could not wait for the slower 
monthly, his poems were sent to the weekly paper, 
and they were at once copied over the whole 
North, giving such tone to public sentiment as no 
other series of poems had done in America. Even 
the poems that treated of peaceful themes had all 
of them the touch which shows they were written 
in the midst of war's alarms. The condition of his 
country is always present in his thought. Thus, 
the sweet poem " Amy Wentworth " is inscribed 
to William Bradford, the artist, in lines full of 
excuse for striking " milder keys " to " relieve the 
storm-stunned ear : " — 

^* I have not touched with warmer tints in vain, 
If in this dark, sad year, it steals one thought from pain." 

And' in the inscription of " The Countess " to his 
old friend. Dr. Weld, he says : — 

" To-day, when truth and falsehood speak their words 
Through hot-lipped cannon and the teeth of swords, 
Listening with quickened heart and ear intent 
1*0 each sharp clause of that stern argument, 
I still can hear at times a softer note 
Of the old pastoral music round me float, 
While through the hot gleam of our ciyil strife 
Looms the green mirage of a simpler life." 

In " Mountain Pictures " and " Our Eiver " are 
similar reminders that they were written when the 
war storm was shaking the solid hills, and that — 


[^" Young eyes that last year smiled in ours 
Now point the rifle barrel.*' 

James T. Fields edited the " Atlantic Monthly " 
from 1862 to 1870, and all of Whittier's corre- 
spondence with that periodical, as well as the busi- 
ness connected with the publication of his books, 
was had with him during these important years, 
and their relations were without any intermission 
of friendliness and confidence so long as Fields 
lived. Whittier submitted his manuscripts to the 
criticism of his friend, and in many cases, as will 
be seen in the letters given in these volumes, made 
considerable changes in poems at his suggestion. 
His business letters to Fields all have friendly 
touches and references to political events, which 
indicate how closely they were in sympathy at 
many points, and how much Whittier enjoyed the 
comradeship of his publisher. 

On the 20th of December, 1861, he returned to 
Fields a proof-sheet of his poem " Mountain Pic- 
tures," one passage of which originally read as 
follows : — 

'' Last night's thnnder-gust 
Roared not in vain : for where its lightnings thrust 
Their tongues of fire, the great peaks seem so near, 
Lapped clear of mist," etc. 

Mr. Fields had evidently criticised the bold play 
of this imagery, and Whittier makes response: 
" See what it is to trust an author with his own 
proofs 1 I defer to thy judgment. I shrink from 
the feline suggestiveness of my figure of speech. 
The tongues of fire shall bum up the mist, and not 
lap it. For the rest, I hope the poem is none the 


worse lot the changes I have thought it best to 
make. How would it do to strike out these lines : 

" Tangling the dnsky woods with silver gleams ; 
And far below the dry lips of the streams 
Sing to the freshened meadow-lauds again; 

and substitute these : — 

'^ Making the dusk and silence of the woods 
Glad with the laughter of the chasing floods, 
And luminous with blown spray and silver gleams; 
While, in the vales below, the dry-lipped streams 
Sing to the freshened meadow-lands again. 

" Our government needs more wisdom than it 
has thus far had credit for to sustain the national 
honor and avert a war with England. What a pity 
that Welles indorsed the act of Wilkes in his 
report. Why could n't we have been satisfied with 
the thing without making such a cackling over it ? 
Apologies are cheap, and we could afford to make 
a very handsome one in this case. A war with 
England would ruin us. It is too monstrous to 
think of. May God in his mercy save us from 

In the " Atlantic" for December, 1861, there ap- 
peared one of Whittier's most characteristic poems, 
"A Legend of the Lake"; but the ballad was 
never included by the poet in any of the volumes 
made up from his contributions to the " Atlantic." 
The reason for the omission was this : A relative 
of the young man who was the hero of the ballad 
wrote to the poet seriously objecting to his telling 
the story, which was a true one ; in the kindness 
of his heart he decided to suppress the poem, but 
in 1888 he was urged by his publishers and by 


many friends to include it in the edition to be pub- 
lished that year. He gave his consent on condi- 
tion that if any relative was living who s'tiU ob- 
jected, it was to be omitted. There was a relative 
living who objected. As there can now be no 
good reason for suppressing the ballad, it is here 
given : — 


Should yon go to Centre Harbor, 

As haply yon some time may, 
Sailing np the Winnepesankee 

From the hills of Alton Bay, — 

Into the heart of the highlands, 

Into the north wind free, 
Through the rising and vanishing islands^ 

Over the mountain sea, — 

To the little hamlet lying 

White in its mountain fold, 
Asleep by the lake and dreaming 

A dream that is never told, — 

And in the Red Hill's shadow 

Your pilgrim home you make, 
Where the chambers open to sunrise, 

The mountains, and the lake, — ^ 

If the pleasant picture wearies. 

As the fairest sometimes will. 
And the weight of the hills lies on yon,' 

And the water is all too still, — 

If in vsdn the peaks of Gunstock 

Redden with sunrise fire. 
And the sky and the purple mountains 

And the sunset islands tire, — 

If you turn from in-door thrumming 
And the clatter of bowls without. 

And the folly that goes on its travels 
Bearing the city about, — 


And the cares yoa left behind you 
Come hnnting along your track, 

Ab Blue-Gap in German fable 
Rode on ihe traveler's pack, — 

Let me tell yon a tender story 
Of one who is now no more, 

A tale to haunt like a spirit 
The Wumepesaukee shore, — 

Of one who was brave and gentle, 
And strong for manly strife, 

Riding with cheering and music 
Into the tourney of life. 

Faltering and failing midway 
In the Tempter's subtle snare, 

The chains of an evil habit 
He bowed himself to bear. 

Over his fresh young manhood 
The bestial veil was flung, — 

The curse of the wine of Circe, 
The spell her weavers sung. 

Yearly did hill and lakeside 
Their summer idyls frame ; 

Alone in his darkened dwelling 
He hid his face for shame. 

The music of lifers g^reat marches 

Sounded for him in vain ; 
The voices of human duty 

Smote on his ear like pain. 

In vain over island and water 
The curtains of sunset swung ; 

In vain on the beautiful mountains 
The pictures of God were hung. 

The wretched years crept onward. 
Each sadder than the last ; 

All the bloom of life fell from him. 
All the freshness and greenness passed. 


But deep in his heart forever 

And onprof aned he kept 
The love of his saintly mother, 

Who in the grayeyard slept. 

ESs honse had no pleasant pietnree ; 

Its comfortless walls were bare : 
But the riches of earth and ocean 

Gonld not purchase his mother^s chair. 

The old chair, qnaintly carven, 

With oaken arms outspread. 
Whereby, in the long g^ne twilights, 

His childish prayers were said. 

For thence in his long night watches, 

By moon or starlight dim, 
A face full of loye and pity 

And tenderness looked on hiuL 

And oft, as the grieying presence 

Sat in his mother's chair. 
The g^an of his self -upbraiding 

Grew into wordless prayer. 


At last, in the moonless midnight. 

The summoning angel came, 
Seyere in his pity, touching 

The house with fingers of flame. 

The red light flashed from its windows 

And flared from its sinking roof ; 
And baffled and awed before it 

The villagers stood aloof. 

They shrank from the falling rafters. 
They turned from the furnace glare ; 

But its tenant cried, ^* God help me I 
I must saye my mother's chair." 

Under the blazing portal, 

Oyer the floor of fire. 
He seemed, in the terrible splendor, 

A martyr on his pyre. 


In his face the mad flames smote hiin, 

And stung him on either side ; 
But he clung to the sacred relic, — 

By his mother's chair he died I 

O mother, with human yearnings I 

O saint, by the altar stairs ! 
Shall not the dear God give thee 

The child of thy many prayers ? 

O Christ I by whom the loving, 

Though erring, are forgiven, 
Hast thou for him no refuge. 

No quiet place in heayen ? 

Give palms to thy strong martyrs. 

And crown thy saints with gold, 
But let the mother welcome 

Her lost one to thy fold 1 

The original reading of the next to the last 
stanza of " At Port Koyal " was : — 

. '^ That close as sin and suffering joined, 
We march to Fate abreast, 
The dread avenger stalks behind 
Oppressor and oppressed." 

When he saw the proof-sheet he improved these 
lines, as follows : — 

*' That laws of changfeless justice bind 
Oppressor with oppressed ; 
And, close as sin and suffering joined, 
We march to Fate abreast/' 

Early in 1862 he wrote to Fields, " Some time 
or other if I can get a day of health I hope to write 
something better than I have yet for the Magazine* 
It is in me, but, as Thersites says of the wit of Ajax, 
it lies as coldly as fire in flint. I would not mind 
suflFering if I could but do something." The first 


reference to " Andrew Rykman's Prayer " found 
in his correspondence is in a letter to Fields 
written in June, 1862 : " I have by me a poem 
upon which I have bestowed much thought, and 
which I think is in some respects the best thing I 
have ever written. I will bring it or send it soon." 
The abolition of slavery in the District of Co- 
lumbia had from the first been considered by Mr. 
Whittier the most imperative duty of the nation. 
We have here his words of joy and thankfulness 
when the work was accomplished. In a letter to 
Sumner, April, 1862, he said : " Glory to God ! 
Nothing but this hearty old Methodist response 
will express my joy at the passage of the bill for 
the abolition of slavery in the District, in the 
Senate of the United StatiBS. I hail it as the first 
of the 'peaceable fruits of righteousness' which 
are to follow the chastening of war, which now 
for the present * seemeth grievous.' It is a great 
event, a mighty step in the right direction. I can 
now lift up my head without shame in the face of 
the world. I am thankful that Massachusetts was 
well represented in the Senate — that to her belongs 
so much of the honor of the noble achievement. All 
the friends of freedom congratulate thee and Wil- 
son. Thank Wilson from me for his reply to 
Davis — and above all for his new movement to 
cut the claws and draw the teeth of the [dragon]. 
I have often wished to write thee and Wilson, but 
have feared to trouble you with any unnecessary 
correspondence. Believe me, I have watched your 
labors with interest and sympathy. ... It is hard 
be to a mere looker-on at a time like this. But 


such is my condition, I am not allowed to write — 
indeed I cannot without great suffering. But the 
good cause goes on, and I bless God that I am per- 
mitted to see it. It is getting to be plain with 
everybody that there can be no union with slavery 
— that we must be ' first pure ' before we can be 
* peaceable ' men. . . . Since writing the above I 
see that the abolition bill has passed the House. 
I presume there is no doubt of the President's 

" The Cry of a Lost Soul," written in 1862, so 
impressed the Emperor of Brazil that he trans- 
lated it into Portuguese, and sent it copied in his 
own hand to Mr. Whittier, in token of the pleasure 
it had given him ; the copy was accompanied by a 
well mounted pair of the birds which gave title to 
the poem ; these are now a highly prized memento 
in possession of his niece. 

He sent " Andrew Rykman " to Fields in Novem- 
ber, 1862, and changes were suggested by his crit- 
ical friend. On the 2d of December, he wrote, 
adhering to his imperfect rhyme: "I return Mr. 
Bykman. I know that ^ pearl ' and ^ marl ' do not 
jingle together well — but the lines have a mean- 
ing in them, and if the reader will roll his r's a 
little they will do. I add a verse at the tail of it. 
John de Labadie was a devout * come-outer ' in 
Holland two centuries ago. . . . Abraham's mes- 
sage is a great improvement in point of style. Its 
conclusion is really noble.'* 

Early in 1863, when there was much distress in 
the manufacturing districts of England, on account 
of our civil war, which had cut off their supply of 


cotton, and subscriptions for the relief of the suf- 
ferers were being raised in the manufacturing towns 
of New England, Mr. Whittier secured a contribu- 
tion of $238 in Amesbury and Salisbury, and for- 
warded it to his friend, the eminent British orator 
and statesman, John Bright, with the following 
note, dated 24th 1st mo., 1863 : — 

" I take pleasure in inclosing to thy care for the 
benefit of the unemployed people of your manu- 
facturing districts, a biU of exchange on Tallmont, 
Brothers & Co., of London, forX32 14s Id ($238 
of our money), the sum contributed by the people 
of the villages of Amesbury and Salisbury for that 
purpose. I also inclose the proceedings of the 
meeting which originated the subscription. With 
a grateful appreciation of thy generous efforts to 
promote good feeling between the people of Eng- 
land and the United States, and of thy eloquent 
and truthful presentation of the great questions in- 
volved in our terrible arbitrament, I am very truly 
thy friend." 

The resolutions of the Amesbury meeting were 
from the pen of Mr. Whittier. 

John Bright acknowledged the benefaction in 
the following letter, dated London, February 27, 
1863 : " Thy letter has given me much pleasure. 
The contribution inclosed in it I have paid over 
to the secretary of the Lancashire relief fund in 
Manchester. Thy letter and the report of the 
meeting at Amesbury have been published in the 
Manchester ^ Examiner and Times,' the most widely 
circulated paper in the north of England. I am 
sure the kindness towards our people indicated by 


the contributions has given much pleasure in many- 
quarters. ... I have been a warm admirer and a 
constant reader of thy poems for many years, and 
I can imagine something of the deep interest which 
the great conflict must excite in thee. It seems as 
if a peaceable termination of the great evil of slav- 
ery was impossible — the blindness, the pride, and 
the passion of men made it impossible. War was 
and is the only way out of the desperate difficulty 
of your country, and fearful as is the path, it can- 
not be escaped. I only hope there may be virtue 
enough in the North, notwithstanding the terrible 
working of the poison of slavery, to throw off the 
coil, and to permit of a renovated and restored 
nation. . . . With us, we are witnessing a great 
change of opinion, or opinions hitherto silent are 
being expressed. In every town a great meeting 
is being held to discuss the ^ American Question,' 
and the vote is almost everywhere unanimously in 
favor of the North. The rich and the titled may 
hate the Republic, but the people do not. . . . My 
daughter sometimes sends thee a newspaper with 
a report of some speech of mine. She is as much 
an American in sympathy as I am, and she wishes 
me to say how much pleasure she has derived 
from thy poems, and how much she hopes all thy 
noble words for freedom may soon bear fruit 
throughout your country. I await tidings from 
the States with anxiety — but I have faith in 
freedom and in good. With many thanks for thy 
kind note, and for the sympathy with our people 
manifested by the Amesbury contribution, believe 
me always thy sincere friend." 


On the 6th of March, 1863, Whittier wrote to 
Fields : " I shall send in a day or two a ballad, 

* La Comtesse ' — the scene at ' The Eocks ' on 
the Merrimac, which I am sure thee will like. I 
think it better by far than ' Amy Wentworth,' if 
I am a fit judge. . • . Holmes's lyric ^ in the last 

* Atlantic' will be historical. In its way it is 
equal to the *Hunt after the Captain,' which is 
great praise." 

When, a little later, he sent " The Countess," it 
was accompanied by the following note : " I hope 
thee will like my pastoral little piece. I am sure 
Mrs. F. will. If thee see, on looking it over, that 
its simplicity crosses the border line, and becomes 
silliness, do me the favor to say so, and it shall go 
hard if I don't make it as dignified as FopiB's 
'Essay on Man,' or Dr. Johnson's 'Vanity, of 
Human Wishes.' " 

In his preface to "The Countess," as also in 
the text of the poem, Mr. Whittier falls into the 
error made by some other writers, when he says 
that Mary Ingalls died in less than one year after 
her marriage to Count Vipart. Miss Eebecca I. 
Davis, in her " Gleanings from the Valley of the 
Merrimac," having access to the diary kept by a 
prominent resident of East Haverhill in the first 
years of the present century, says she finds that 
the marriage occurred March 21, 1805. The 
Countess died January 6, 1807. Count Vipart, 
after the death of his wife, returned to Guada- 
loupe, where he married again, and where he died 
and was buried. His children were living in 
^ ** Choose you this Day whom ye will Serve" 


Gnadaloupe in 1877. But it is true, as the poem 
states, that his remains now rest in the family lot 
at Bordeaux, France, where the Viparts held a 
high rank in the nobility. The Count and his 
cousin, Joseph Eochemont de Foyen, came to this 
country and settled at Haverhill, at the time of the 
insurrection in Guadaloupe. Mr. Whittier's only 
brother married Abby, a daughter of Joseph 
Rochemont de Foyen. 

The story which suggested to Mr. Whittier his 
ballad of " Barbara Frietchie " came to him from 
Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southworth, of Georgetown, 
D. C, the well-known novelist, whose acquain- 
tance he made while he was corresponding editor 
of the " National Era." On the 21st of July, 
1863, she wrote to him the following note : " I 
send this little note out merely in quest of you. 
If it should find you, please let me know your 
exact address, as I have a message to deliver you. 
You need only put your address in the inclosed 
envelope. When I get it I will write to you." 

As soon as she obtained the address she sent the 
following narrative, and the ballad founded upon 
it was written within a fortnight after its receipt 
in Amesbury : — 

" * When Lee's army occupied Frederick, the 
only Union flag displayed in the city was held 
from an attic window by Mrs. Barbara Frietchie, 
a widow lady, aged ninety-seven years.' Such was 
the paragraph that went the round of the Wash- 
ington papers last September. Some time after- 
wards, from friends who were in Frederick at the 
time, I heard the whole story. It was the story of 


a woman's heroism, which, when heard, seemed as 
much to belong to you as a book picked up with 
your autograph on the fly leaf. So here it is: 
Barbara Frietchie was born in 1766 ; she was 
ten years old at the breaking out of the revolu- 
tionary war, and was fifteen years old at its close ; 
therefore at the most susceptible period of her life 
she must have drawn in from that heroic epoch 
the ardent spirit of patriotism which inspired her 
act. When on the morning of the 6th of Sep- 
tember, the advance of Lee's army, led by the 
formidable rebel general ' Stonewall ' Jackson, en- 
tered Frederick, every Union flag was lowered, and 
the halliards cut ; every store and every dwelling- 
house was closed; the inhabitants had retreated 
indoors ; the streets were deserted, and, to quote 
the official report, 'the city wore a church-yard 
aspect.' But Mrs. Barbara Frietchie, taking one 
of the Union flags, went up to the top of her 
house, opened a garret window, and held it forth. 
The rebel army marched up the street, saw the 
flag ; the order was given, ' Halt I Fire I ' and a 
volley was discharged at the window from which it 
was displayed. The flag-staflE was partly broken, 
so that the flag drooped ; the old lady drew it in, 
broke ofp the fragment, and, taking the stump with 
the flag still attached to it in her hand, stretched 
herself as far out of the window as she could, held 
the stars and stripes at arm's length, waving over 
the rebels, and cried out in a voice of indignation 
and sorrow : * Fire at this old head, then, boys ; 
it is not more venerable than your flag.' They 
fired no more; they passed in silence and with 


downcast looks ; and she secured the flag in its 
place, where it waved unmolested during the whole 
of the rebel occupation of the city. ' Stonewall ' 
would not permit her to be troubled. The rebel 
army evacuated Frederick on the 11th, and our 
troops, under General Bumside, entered on the 
12th. ' Then,' to quote the document again, ' flags 
of all sizes and from every, conceivable place were 
displayed.' But as for the heroic old lady, she 
died a few days after ; some thought she died of 
joy at the presence of the Union army, and some 
that she died of excitement and fatigue from the 
' lionization ' she received ; for those who could not 
emulate the old lady's courage did honor to her 

This is the whole story, as Mr. Whittier had it 
when he wrote the ballad. Of the substantial ac- 
curacy of the narrative many convincing proofs 
came to him, from time to time, in the midst of 
the animated and prolonged controversy the ballad 
elicited. He never felt responsible for the details, 
although his verses, it will be seen, follow quite 
closely the version sent by Mrs. Southworth, who 
says she obtained the story from Mr. C. S. Brams- 
burg, a neighbor of hers and a connection of Bar- 
bara's. When he told it to Mrs. Southworth and 
her son Richmond, her son suggested that it would 
be a grand subject for a poem by Whittier, and 
upon that hint the story was forwarded to him. 
On the 8th of September, 1863, Mr. Whittier wrote 
to Mrs. Southworth : " I heartily thank thee for 
thy kind letter and its inclosed message. It ought 
to have fallen into better hands, but I have just 


written out a little ballad of ' Barbara Frietchie,' 
wbich will appear in the next ' Atlantic' If it is 
good for anything thee deserve all the credit of 

The poem was published in the " Atlantic " for 
October, and was immediately copied in most 
Northern papers. At the time when much was 
being said about the apocryphal nature of the 
stories upon which some of his ballads were 
founded, and particularly about the " Barbara 
Frietchie " legend, Mr. Whittier remarked, " That 
there was a Dame Frietchie in Frederick who 
loved the old flag is not disputed by any one. As 
for the rest I do not feel responsible. If there 
was no such occurrence, so much the worse for 
Frederick City." Afterward, in sportive vein, he 
referred to Betsey Prig's incredulity in regard to 
Mrs. Harris, and did n't see that Sairey Gamp was 
responsible for the non-existence of this creature 
of her imagination I 

Mrs. Mary Quantrell, of Frederick, wrote to 
Mr. Whittier, claiming to be the real heroine of 
the ballad, and there cannot be much doubt of the 
fact that she also waved a Union flag when the 
rebel troops passed through the town. The evi- 
dence is sufficient, however, that there was a Bar- 
bara Frietchie, venerable in years, who either from 
her attic window, or from the sidewalk, showed 
her devotion for the old flag in a brave and un- 
compromising manner, and her name deserves the 
honor conferred upon it by the immortal ballad. 
The poem was sent to Mr. Fields, for the " Atlan- 
tic," in August, and the following letter indicates 


the heartiness of the welcome it received. A new 
edition of Whittier's complete works was at that 
time in press. Mr. Fields's letter is dated August 
24, 1863 : " ' Barbara ' is most welcome, and I wiU 
find room for it in the October niunber, most cer- 
tainly. A proof will be sent to you in a few days. 
You were right in thinking I should like it, for so 
I do, as I like few things in this world. The piece 
must go into your book, of course. We go to press 
at once with the new volume. Will there be any 
introductory piece ? Inclosed is a check for fifty 
dollars, but Barbara's weight should be in gold." 

To one of many friends who asked him if Bar- 
bara was a myth, he answered in a letter dated 
October 19, 1890 : " I had a portrait of the good 
Lady Barbara from the saintly hand of Dorothea 
Dix, whose life is spent in works of love and duty, 
and a cane from Barbara's cottage, sent me by 
Dr. Steiner of the Maryland Senate. Whether 
she did all that my poem ascribed to her or not, 
she was a brave and true woman. I followed the 
account given me in a private letter and in the 
papers of the time." 

The cane referred to above was brought to him 
in 1873, by Mr. Bramsburg, who accompanied 
Mrs. Southworth in a visit to Amesbury. It is 
said to be the one the old lady used to shake at 
the boys of the town who would come about her 
house and hurrah for Jeff Davis. 

A writer in the " Century," in an article upon 
this ballad, which denied that it had any foun- 
dation whatever in fact, made the remark that 
'* the story will perhaps live, as Mr. Whittier has 


boasted, until it gets beyond the reach of correc- 
tion." To this Mr. Whittier replied in a note to 
the editor of the magazine : — 

" Those who know me will bear witness that I am 
not in the habit of boasting of anything whatever, 
least of all of congratulating myself upon a doubt- 
ful statement outliving the possibility of correction. 
I certainly made no ' boast ' of the kind imputed 
to me. The poem of ' Barbara Frietchie ' was writ- 
ten in good faith. The story was no invention of 
mine. It came to me from sources which I re- 
garded as entirely reliable ; it had been published 
in newspapers, and had gained public credence in 
Washington and Maryland before my poem was 
written. I had no reason to doubt its accuracy 
then, and I am still constrained to believe that it 
had foundation in fact. If I thought otherwise I 
should not hesitate to express it. I have no pride 
of authorship to interfere with my allegiance to 

The poems that deal directly with the war and 
its issues, like " Thy Will be Done," " Ein feste 
Burg ist unser Gott," " To John C. Fremont," 
" Astrsea at the Capitol," and " The Battle Au- 
tumn of 1862," would not allow the people to for- 
get that slavery must die before peace could be 
restored. When the proclamation of freedom to 
the slaves of rebels in Missouri was made by Gen- 
eral Fremont in August, 1861, and countermanded 
as premature by President Lincoln, Whittier gave 
a prompt expression of his opinion that the gen- 
eral had taken 

" counsel but of common sense 
To strike at cause as weU as consequence." 


Interesting incidents connected with this poem, 
showing how its strong words cheered the heart of 
Fremont at a critical time, are given in the fol- 
lowing account of her first interview with Whit- 
tier, contributed to these pages by Mrs. Jessie 
Benton Fremont. She visited Amesbury in Sep- 
tember, 1863 : — 

Finding Amesbury easy of reach from Nahant, 
where we had a cottage, we went there one morn- 
ing to visit Mr. Whittier, knowing I had that to 
tell him which would give him pleasure. The gen- 
eral was in New York just then, but my daughter 
and myself had as escort the dear friend in battle, 
as in exile, of Kossuth, — a fellow-Hungarian of 
generous soul who had again drawn his sword for 
his adopted country, Zagonyi. 

When we asked for Mr. Whittier we were an- 
swered he had just gone out. We were sorry, and 
said so, adding we had come from Nahant pur- 
posely to see him. The ingenuous face of the 
blushing young girl told distinctly of the conflict 
between her obedience to directions and her regret 
at seeing us so disappointed. She hospitably 
asked if we would not rest after our walk up from 
the station, and as we sat in the cool parlor a 
splendid old parrot — the gray parrot, of Africa, 
with its scarlet head — began talking. I have 
always had a weakness for parrots, and had some 
of them at Nahant, and knowing their tricks and 
manners made acquaintance with this evidently 
objecting bird. As I supposed, this parrot had in 
its repertoire the usual sailor-Spanish-ship words 


of instruction, and its funny surprise at hearing 
me use them, and hurried sidling-up for nearer 
talk, made us all laugh. The young girl told us 
it was not usually so friendly, that it had been her 
grandmother's pet, and was a dignified bird not 
given to answering laughs and chaffing. " Do wait 
a little," she said at last, " maybe Uncle has not 
gone very far ; " and we waited, — to be rewarded 
by the return of the poet with his smiling niece 
Lizzie, who had evidently overcome his reluctance 
with difficulty, for his whole tall upright figure and 
serious look was in protest at being made to see 
strangers, when he was going off for quiet. 

It is a risk to meet a favorite author — he may 
overthrow the ideal one must have formed — but 
we had no disappointment when we saw Mr. Whit- 
tier. Those luminous eyes ! So direct, such un- 
mixed a look of simple questioning inquiry, with 
no touch of self-consciousness, or offense given or 
taken, such lively refreshing absence of the usual 
conventional expressions toward a visitor, I had 
never seen except in very young children ; it was 
the naked truth, habitual, and above all small dis- 
guises. Those eyes told of one " who had kept in- 
nocency all his days." 

I began by telling him he had strongly influ- 
enced my young life ; that I was but twenty-two 
when I cut from a newspaper and pasted in my 
prayer-book his "Angel of Patience"; that the 

" The throbs of wounded pride to still, 
And make our own our Father's will," 

were the hardest lines to get hy heart I had ever 

462 m WAR TIME 

tried ; for patience and submission were not nat- 
ural growths in my part of the country. 

" Thy speech is Southern ; what is thy name ? " 

" Not yet," I said. " I am Southern ; but let 
me tell you more first. I want to tell you of your 
last, your greatest, help to us both — to me, and 
greatest, to my husband." 

And then I told him as briefly as I could how 
over thirty thousand men were next day to break 
camp for active pursuit of the enemy, — "the 
enemies of the Union, Mr. Whittier. It was 
Sunday evening ; the setting sun lit up the Octo- 
ber colors of the trees, and picked out the white 
of tents covering the many hiUs; the men were 
hushed into reverent stillness, for the bands played 
the air, and then voices, swelling to thousands on 
thousands, take up the familiar words : — 

'* * Before JehoTah*8 awful throne.' 
Before that awful throne who could know how 
soon he must appear? And why? What good 
attained for which a man should lay down his life ? 

" The day's mail was brought into the general's 
tent. He had no heart to open it, for his highest, 
dearest, purest hopes had been flung back on him, 
and himself disapproved. But I, who was always 
the secretary and other-self, went on with the 
things of every day, ' taking the burden of life 
again,' and think of my reward when in the New 
York * Evening Post ' there met my eye your in- 
spired, prophetic words.^ 

* The poem entitled To John C. Frimont, beginning 
" Thy error, Fremont, simply was to act 
A brave man^s part, without the stateBinaii^a tact." 

On the 2d of March, 18S3, Mr. Whittier replied as follows to 


" Uplifted beyond the time of trial, I went out 
with the paper to where, standing over the fire — 
as he so often had stood in lonely times of suffer- 
ing and dejection — was the general, alone. I 
read him the whole. He was speechless with in- 
creasing, overwhelming, glorified feeling — trans- 
figured. Taking the paper, and bending to read 
it, for himself, by the blazing logs, at length he 
said, — 

** * He speaks for posterity. I knew I was right. 
I want these words on my tombstone : — 

*' God lias spoken throngh thee, 
Irrevocable, the mighty words Be free I " 

Now I can die for what I have done.' " 

Whittier had grasped my arm, and his eyes 
blazed. « What is thy name ? " 


Without a word he swimg out of the room, to 
return, infolding in his helping embrace a frail 
little woman, tenderly saying to the invalid he was 
bringing from her seclusion, — 

'< Elizabeth, this is Jessie Fremont — under our 
roof. Our mother would have been glad to see 
this day." 

After this, we came down (with our hearts in 

a request of Mra. Fremont's for permission to publish the poem 
in the memoirs of her husband : ** I was glad to see thy writing 
once more — and glad to know of thy wanting this recollection of 
thy time, so fnll of interest and wonderful events — and glad to 
comply with thy request to copy the lines addressed to thy hus- 
band, who struck the first brave blow for liberty. The years 
press heavily upon me, and the death of my brother, the last of 
our family, is a great loss. But I am thankful that I have lived 
to see slavery's end, the Union established, and the whole country 
in a prosperous condition." 


our throats all the same) to every-day talk ; but 
the every day of the war tune was a sublimated 
life in itself, a grand epoch to have lived in, and 
taken part in. 

Injustice roused Mr. Whittier's suppressed 
combativeness. Now, here before him, was the 
great injustice to the true feeling of the North, 
and to the patient, hopeless slaves ; and to the fine 
young man who had made the Balaklava charge 
at Springfield. In Zagonyi he saw how the trust 
of foreign lovers of freedom had been used, then 
scorned. But he saw, too, beyond it all the inevi- 
table fall of the girdled Upas-tree, and he knew 
that time at last sifts out the truth. And Truth 
can wait. 

There was a convention of some kind in the 
town, and Whittier confessed he had escaped into 
his pear orchard when he saw us turning in at the 
gate. But for the gentle niece we should both 
have lost a treasured memory ; she quickly sepa- 
rated us from the convention idea. We only left 
on the latest daylight train, and the following let- 
ter shows how Mr. Whittier, too, found it a day 
to remember. It was written October 24, 1863 : 

" It was very thoughtful on thy part to inform 
me of thy unexpected Hegira southward. I would 
[have been glad] to see thee and the general in 
your own quiet * Anchorage,' but am not certain 
that I should have been well enough to do so. 
But I must thank thee heartily for thy little visit 
at our home. We have in some sort known and 
loved thee and thine for a long time, and seeing 
thee has confirmed our impressions. It was one 


of the desires of our dear mother to see thee and 
thy husband. She spoke of you during her last 
short ilhiess, and expressed the deepest regret at 
the result of the election [1866]. I am very 
happy to know that my word of encouragement 
was not wholly in vain, during your trials in Mis- 
souri. I sent the lines to thee at St. Louis, but 
thee was absent at the time, and perhaps did not 
receive them. The villagers have complained sadly 
because I did not let them know that Jessie 
Fremont was in the place. Our young men and 
women wanted to see Colonel Zagonyi, the hero of 
the Body Guard. When thee comes again we will 
have the bells rung and satisfy them. My sister 
joins me in grateful remembrance of your visit, 
and sends love to thee and thy daughter. My 
niece Lizzie sends love to Miss Lilly. Kemember 
me kindly to the general. Would that he were 
at Washington, commander-in-chief. That God 
may bless you both abundantly is the sincere de- 
sire of thy friend." 

From time to time we " passed the trail," but 
without that we knew it was " all 's well " with 
our friendship. Here in my Sunset Home his 
letter of introduction enabled me to know and 
make for his cousins a charming winter day among 
beautiful gardens and kindly welcomings. Mr. 
Whittier's note from Danvers, November 29, 1889, 
refers to them, and though the delicate handwrit- 
ing has become enlarged to suit the failing sight, 
yet the quick flow of ideas is still his best : — 

" I was glad to get thy kind letter. We were 
talking about thee and the general the day be- 


fore. I suppose we felt the letter on its way, by 
what the Psychical Besearch Society calls tele- 
pathy. I am feeling the burden of many years, 
and am not able to read or write much, owing to 
failing sight. I do not know as it is any serious 
privation to lose the reading of newspapers, but 
to put books aside, and not be able to write to my 
friends, is another matter. My cousins desire to 
be kindly remembered to thee. They greatly en- 
joyed meeting you both when in Los Angeles. I 
fight over the Fremont campaign often. Memory 
recalls the stirring incidents of that memorable 
struggle, when thy own name was ever coupled 
with that of thy husband, and the cry of ' Fremont 
and Jessie ' echoed over the entire North. God 
bless thy noble husband ! " 

I do not think Mr. Whittier would be unwilling 
for these letters to be published. They are like 
his written songs of inspiration, that led men to 
put highest thought into action, and bear all, for — 

** Not painlessly does God recast 
And mould anew a Nation.'' 

And it is my abiding pride and honor to have 
shared with those who had to — 

** Wait beneath the f umaoe blast 
The pangs of transformation/' 

and who rejoice with Whittier when he " felt the 
years press heavily upon him " — " but lam thank- 
ful that I have lived to see slavery's end, the 
Union established, and the whole country in a 
prosperous condition." 

Jessie Benton Fb^Imont. 

Los Akgei^es, April, 1893. _, . 


The following letter of Whittier's, written Sep- 
tember 19, 1861, and refering to the Fremont 
proclamation, was addressed to his gallant friend, 
of the days of the Kansas struggle, Major George 
L. Stearns, the same to whose memory was ad- 
dressed the tender tribute written on the occasion 
of his death in 1867, which contains this stanza : — 

'* So the bed was sweet to die on 

Whence he saw the doors wide swung 
Against whose bolted iron 

The strength of his life was flung." 

" I presume I should fully agree with you as to 
the duty and expediency of striking more directly 
at the real cause of the war. As heretofore, I shall 
use my endeavors to this end. If the present ter- 
rible struggle does not involve emancipation, par- 
tial or complete, it is at once the most wicked and 
the most ludicrous war ever waged. I hope the 
President has not undertaken to tie up the hands 
of Fremont. That would be worse for us than a 
score of Bull Runs." 

Probably no other of Whittier's war hymns had 
such wide and immediate effect upon the popular 
mind as the one set to the music of Luther's 
hymn, " Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott," begin- 
ning with the lines : — 

'* We wait beneath the fomace blast 
The pangs of transformation." 

It was read in the Cabinet of the President, in 
every household in the North, and sung in the 
Union camps. John W. Hutchinson, with his 
family of singers, had been given permission by 


Secretary Cameron, after the first battle of Bull 
Bud, to sing to the soldiers encamped upon the 
Virginia side of the Potomac, and he ventured to 
introduce this hymn, which he called " The Fur- 
nace Blast." On one occasion he had an audience 
of two thousand soldiers, and as he sang Whittier's 
hymn with strong feeling, his whole soul wrapped 
in its sentiment, an intense stillness pervaded the 
house, until he came to the words : — 

" What whetB the knife for the Union's life ? 
Hark to the answer : Shivery ! '' 

Then a solitary hiss was heard in a remote comer ; 
there was instant commotion, and the soldiers were 
with difficulty restrained from summary dealing 
with the man who had expressed his disapproba- 
tion. This disturbance was reported to head- 
quarters, and Mr. Hutchinson was brought before 
General Kearney, who ordered him to sing no 
more in the camps. General Franklin sent for 
copies of all the songs in the Hutchinson pro- 
gramme, and selected this hymn as incendiary. 
Later, an order came from General McClellan 
revoking the permit given the Hutchinson family 
to sing to the troops. Mr. Hutchinson returned 
to Washington, called on Secretary Chase, and 
told him the story. At his request, a copy of the 
prohibited song was given the Secretary, and he 
submitted it to the Cabinet at its next meeting. 
President Lincoln remarked that these " were just 
the songs he wanted his soldiers to hear," and gave 
the Hutchinsons permission to cross the Potomac 


Lucy Larcom, then teaching in the Wheaton 
Female Seminary, at Norton, Mass., was planning 
a vacation excursion with friends to the Pemige- 
wasset valley, and urged Mr. Whittier to join the 
party. He wrote, under date of June 17, 1863 : 
" I want badly to go up to the hill country, for its 

own sake, and if thee and are there, that 

constitutes another very decided inducement. I 
am sure the trip would be pleasant and profitable to 
thee, even if I cannot be with you. So if thee can 
go, go it ; ' if thou mayest be free, use it rather.' 
With the best disposition in the world to visit the 
Pemigewasset valley at this time, I fear I shall not 
be able to do so. I must go, then, in imagination 
only, and 

" ^ Shnt my eyes in the lowlands 
To dream a dream of the hills, 
The sweep of a host of mountains, 
The flash of a hundred rills.' 

I take it you are not expecting Stuart and his 
rebel scaramouches at your school. Think what a 
fluttering in your dovecote such a visit would occa- 
sion I I am half inclined to believe that the ras- 
cals will reach Philadelphia ; and amidst all my 
anxieties and regrets, I cannot help smiling to 
think of the drab-colored panic among the staid 
and quiet people of that city ! " 

Again he wrote, in 1863 : " God only knows 
whether we really deserve success in this terrible 
war. When I think of the rapacity of contractors 
and office-holders, and of the brutal and ferocious 
prejudice against the poor blacks, as evinced at 
Detroit and at Port Koyal, I almost despair, so 


far as we, the whites of the North, are concerned. 
God's will be done, whatever becomes of us ! " 

In September, 1863, after a pleasant visit to 
the Shoals, with the Whittiers, Lucy Larcom was 
suddenly called to the West on account of the 
death of a loved sister. Mr. Whittier wrote to 
her, under date of September 30 : — 

" We often thought of thee on thy sad journey 
to the West. As we walk down the autumnal 
slopes of life, how the shadows lengthen and 
deepen ! But ' in the even time there shall be light.' 
^ Death,' said the heathen stoic, ^ is according to 
Nature, and nothing is evil which is according to 
Nature,' and there is deep wisdom and consolation 
in his saying. But as Christians, our trust is not 
alone in the steady sequence of Nature, but in the 
tender heart of our Father, and the infinite love 
revealed in His human manifestation. . . . We 
are now having fine weather after weeks of cold 
and damp. On the whole, we have not had our 
usual proportion of sunshine this season. But 
glorious October will make amends. How the 
maple splendor will climb the hills of CamptonI 
What hues will be mirrored in the Pemigewasset ! 
In what a radiant transfiguration will Winnepe- 
saukee indulge ! I don't suppose I shall see them, 
but it is some satisfaction to know just how they 
wiU look. And there will be abundant beauty 
nearer home, and everywhere. It is a beautiful 
world — this of ours — a portent of the exceeding 
beauty yet to be revealed, I suppose. Let us be 
grateful, and happy as we can ; holding fast our 
faith in the Eternal Goodness." 



12th mo., 1863. 

How much we like thy " Loyal Woman's No ! " 
It is grand in its indignant pride of patriotism. I 
see it is immensely popular — a proof that the 
people regard it as a " word in season." It has 
not the sweet rhythmic flow of " Hilary," a poem 
which anybody might be proud of, but it is 
stronger and deeper, freighted with meaning and 
passion. ... It is a real disappointment to me 
that I cannot attend the grand Music Hall fair. 
But I 'm used to it, and am not going to complain 
or repine about it. The last summer and fall have 
enriched me with such sweet pictures and pleasant 
memories that I ought not to mention these win- 
ter inconveniences and detentions. Our Shoals 
expedition is a capital resource of fireside reverie. 
And then how much we have all to be thankful for 
in the improved condition of public affairs — the 
rising hopes of loyalty, the growing despair of trear 
son — the President's firmness in standing fast 
by his Proclamation ! We are living in a grand 
time ; one year now is worth a dozen of the years 
of our ancestors. . . . 

The " Hymn sung at Christmas by the Scholars 
of St. Helena's Island, S. C," was written for Miss 
Charlotte Forten, a friend in whom Mr. Whittier 
had taken much interest while she was acquiring 
an education, and who in 1863 was teaching the 
freedmen on the island above named. Of Miss 
Forten (now Mrs. Grimke), Mr. Whittier said in a 
letter to Charles Sumner written in 1870, " She is 


slightly colored ; her grandfather, James Forten, of 
Philadelphia, was a friend of Kush and Franklin, 
served in the revolutionary war, and was a pris- 
oner in the Jersey prison ship — a noble old 
man ! " She gives the following account of the 
reception and singing of the hymn : — 

^' It was in 1863 that I was teaching there, and 
as Christmas was approaching, I asked Mr. Whit- 
tier if he would write a little hymn for our schol- 
ars to sing. So he very kindly sent it. I read it 
to the children, and showed them his picture, and 
told them about him; and they were much de- 
lighted, and proud to think the hymn was written 
especially for them. They learned it readily, and 
sang it with great spirit on that bright, beautiful 
Christmas Day, in the old church, amid grand, moss- 
draped live oaks. It was a scene I shall never 

Mr. Whittier's reply to Miss Forten's request 
for the poem was in these words : " I send here- 
with a little song for your Christmas festival. I 
was too ill to write anything else, but I could not 
resist the desire to comply with thy request. . , . 
Our old friend and former neighbor. Colonel T. W. 
Higginson, commands the 1st Regiment of South 
Carolina Volunteers. I hope thee will see and 
know him. He is a rare man, a gentleman, scholar, 
and true friend of the slave. Elizabeth, who is too 
ill to write to-day, sends her love. She says, * Tell 
Charlotte I am so glad she is there. I wish I was 
able to be with her I Tell her to write often, and 
let me know all about her doings.' She sends a 
picture of her brother ; she has none of her own — 



very wrong of her not to have. Most sincerely, 
dear friend, do I rejoice at the good providence of 
God, which has permitted thee to act so directly 
for the poor, yet deeply interesting people of the 
Sea Islands." 

Miss Forten wrote after meeting Colonel Hig- 
ginson, and Mr. Whittier replied: "I am glad 
thee hast met Colonel Higginson, and to know 
him is to like him. He is a worthy coadjutor of 
General Saxton. I read General Saxton's Thanks- 
giving proclamation with the deepest emotion. It 
is the most touching and beautiful official paper I 
ever saw. God bless him ! ' The bravest are the 
tenderest.' I am a peace man, but nevertheless I 
am rejoiced that the 1st Regiment of South Caro- 
lina Volunteers have behaved so bravely and man- 
fully in the late expedition. Twenty such regi- 
ments, under twenty such men as Higginson and 
Dr. Rogers, would soon give a new aspect to the 
struggle. . . . Invalids as we are, sister and I 
long for the sun and air of summer. I send thee a 
volume of A. Crummell's.^ Its author is a church- 
man and conservative, but his writings are a noble 
refutation of the charge of the black man's inferi- 
ority. They are model discourses, clear, classic, 
and chaste." 

Again he wrote : " I think thee must have en- 
joyed thy visit to the Sea Islands exceedingly. I 
wish I could have been with you. We have had 

^ Rev. Alexander Crnmmell, D. D., bom in New York about 
1820, educated at the University of Cambridge, England, and 
author of several works, including The Greatness of Christ, and 
Other Sermons, which is the volume to which reference is made. 
Dr. Crnmmell was rector at St. Luke's, Washington, D. C. 


a cold spring, and still the dreadful east winds 
blow, and sing their harsh discords among the 
apple blossoms. It is our [Quaker] Quarterly 
Meeting to-day, and our house is overrun with 
drab-colored people. I inclose a sprig of may- 
flower from our woods." 

Mr. Whittier took a deep interest in the patri- 
otic work of his friend, Thomas Starr King, in 
California, and sent him encouraging letters. 
Only Mr. King's part in the correspondence is 
available for these pages. Early in the war, Mr. 
Whittier remembered how his friend, in the days 
of the Kansas trouble, had given wings to his 
poem, "The Panorama," and sent him copies of 
the songs designed to keep up the heart of the 
North in the midst of the civil war. This passage 
occurs in a letter written by Mr. King early in 
the contest : " How awful the moral desolation of 
the war ! Yet there is no retreat. We are half 
way over in a tide of blood. We return only to 
Sodom. We cross, and it is the promised land. . . . 
God accoimts physical life cheap on the globe to 
the establishment of justice. Let us pray that we 
be not found utterly unworthy of His protection 
and blessing, and that our blood and treasure be 
not poured out in vain. The only way to get any- 
thing for what we have already paid of blood is to 
shed more. I rejoice to think that, if we conquer, 
the South is to be blessed more widely than the 
North. We are loving our enemies with our can- 
non, if they are battering down the bulwarks of 
the slavery Bastile. . . . Mrs. Neall was in our 
city some weeks ago, but could not stay to hear 


the lecture. She writes me most delightful letters. 
It would raise the proof of life in our city, if she 
would come here. . . . And now, my noble friend, 
with great gratitude for your kindness, and honest 
pride that I can serve as a slight conductor of 
your power to our far Western Americans, I am 
ever yours." 

The beautiful church built for Mr. King, in 
San Francisco, was dedicated to the worship of 
God in January, 1864, and soon afterward sol- 
emnly consecrated to the " holy cause of Freedom 
and Our Country." In anticipation of this pa- 
triotic dedication, Mr. King expressed a wish in 
December that he might have a hymn by Mr. 
Whittier to be sung on that occasion, but he did 
not venture to ask for it himseU. Mrs. Hannah 
L. Neall, whose friendship for Mr. Whittier dated 
back to the days of his residence in Philadelphia, 
volunteered to make the request, and the hynm 
beginning, — 

'* Amidst these glorious works of Thine, 
The vast Sierra's cloud-hung pine, 
And awful Shasta's icy shrine " — 

was at once composed and forwarded to Mr. King, 
with a note expressing the fear of the poet, which 
was shared by his sister, that it might not prove 
to be adapted for music. Mr. King in his letter 
of thanks, dated January 1, 1864, did not share 
this doubt. 

On the 28th of January, 1864, when he received 
his royalty upon the sales of his volume " In War 
Time," he wrote to Mr. Fields : " Thy favor, with 
remittance of $340, is received. It makes me rich 


as Croesus. 1 am like one who counting over his 
hoard finds it double what he expected. From a 
merely shoddy point of view the sum might seem 
small, but we did not cheat the government out of 
it — that 's some satisfaction. ... I have just sent 
what I think is a hymn to T. S. King for the open- 
ing of his new steeple-house. It was kind and 
like thyself to tell me that my rhyme [" Barbara 
Frietchie "] found such approval. It is only when 
they are blamed or praised that we fully realize 
how much we love these bantlings of ours." 

In March, 1864, Mr. Whittier was invited to 
visit the Army of the Potomac, in camp near Cul- 
peper, Va. Brigadier-General Rice, in sending 
the invitation, wrote : " Your loyal verse has made 
us all your friends, lightening the wearisomeness 
of our march, brightening our lonely campfires, 
and cheering our hearts in battle, when ' the flags 
of war like storm-birds fly ! ' " 

One of the neatest criticisms of Mr. Whittier's 
attitude during the civil war was made by Gail 
Hamilton, who worked for him a pair of slippers. 
On each slipper stood an American eagle, with 
vigilant eye, in belligerent attitude, ready for either 
defense or attack, with claws full of thunderbolts. 
The witty embroiderer had toned down the bel- 
ligerence of the spirited birds by using that most 
peaceable of colors, the Quaker drab ! Mr. Whit- 
tier used to lend these slippers to his visitors, and 
call attention with a smile to the amusing insinua- 
tion they conveyed. He said Miss Dodge's needle 
was almost as sharp as her tongue or pen. 

On one occasion during the war, he fell into con- 


versation with a Quaker with whom he was well 
acquainted, upon a railway train in New Hamp- 
shire. His friend told him he was on his way 
to contract for a lot of oak timber which he had 
reason to suppose would be used in the construc- 
tion of a ship of war at the Kittery navy yard, and 
he showed that the matter was worrying his con- 
science as a Friend, and hoped for some word from 
Mr. Whittier that would quiet the troublesome 
monitor. But Whittier saw that his friend had 
fully decided to supply the timber, and had a mind 
to tease him ; so he argued against the transac- 
tion, and brought out with much force the incon- 
sistency of a Friend's supplying timber for such 
a terrible weapon of war. Before they parted his 
friend began to show uneasiness about the matter, 
but was reassured as Mr. Whittier bade him fare- 
well, by the remark, " My friend, if thee does fur- 
nish any of that timber thee spoke of, be sure that 
it is all sound ! " That Quaker timber was in the 
stout ribs of the " Kearsarge," when she circled 
about the doomed " Alabama," oflf Cherbourg, in 
the most picturesque naval combat of modern 


6th mo., 1864. 
I intended when I left Providence to have writ- 
ten thee before this, but I found sister Elizabeth 
on my arrival home very ill indeed, and she has 
been so most of the time since. lam more dis- 
couraged than ever about her. . . . Another of the 
old landmarks of the past has been removed. My 
old schoolmaster, Joshua Coffin, died last week. 


While he lived he served to connect me with my 
early boyhood, or rather childhood. I shall miss 
him. He lived at Newbury and often visited us. 
I found a letter of his awaiting me on my return 
from Yearly Meeting. Please tell Joseph and 
Gertrude I did not arrive home a moment too soon 
on my own and my sister's account. Dr. Bow- 
ditch has been down to see Lizzie ; he did not 
speak discouragingly, nor in fact encouragingly, 
but hoped if she could take sufficient nourishment 
she would get the better of her trouble. 

Whittier's old friend and schoolmaster, Joshua 
Coffin, usually remarkably bright-witted and merry- 
hearted, was in the last years of his life subject to 
fits of religious depression. He imagined he was 
predestined to be eternally lost, and did not rebel 
against the divine decree, but accepted it and fell 
into a mild melancholy, distressing to all friends 
who had known him not only as one of the happi- 
est, but also one of the best of men — a philan- 
thropist, who had shown his readiness to sacrifice 
even his life for the liberty and happiness of his 
fellow-men. Mr. Whittier, finding him in this 
mood at one time, asked him, " Joshua, don't thee 
hate God, who has doomed thee to everlasting 
torment ? " " Why, no, it is for the good of all, 
that some are punished." "Joshua, thee has spent 
thy life doing good, and now thee is of course get- 
ting ready to do all the hurt thee can to thy fel- 
low-men ? " " No, indeed, my feelings have not 
changed in the least in this regard." "Thee is 
going to hell, then, in this mood ? " " Why, yes, I 


am reconciled to the will of God, and have no ill 
feelings toward Him or my race." " Now, Joshua, 
thee is going to hell with a heart full of love for 
everybody — what can the devil find for such an 
one as thee to do ? " This struck the right chord. 
The good old man laughed merrily at the idea of 
the puzzle Satan would be in to find occupation 
for him, and resumed his old cheerfulness at once. 
When Mr. Coffin died, Mr. Whittier wrote this 
inscription for his tombstone : — 

" Teacher and Christian, rest I 
Thy threescore years and ten, 
Thy work of ton^e and pen, 
May well abide the test 
Of love to God and men I 
Here let thy pnpils pause, and let the slave 
Smooth with free hands thy grave I " 

The summer of 1864 was a sad one in the Whit* 
tier household, for Elizabeth was seriously ill. 
On the 30th of August, only four days before the 
death of his dearly loved sister, he wrote to Bayard 
Taylor : " How sorry I am that my sister's very 
feeble state of health compels me to say that I 
fear your otherwise most welcome visit must be 
postponed ! For several months she has been con- 
fined in a dark room, in extreme pain and weak- 
ness. Nothing has given her more regret than her 
inability to see her friends — and for thee and thy 
Marie she would have the warmest welcome, were 
she able to bear the excitement. Fields will tell 
thee how sadly and heavily the bright summer 
has passed with me. . . . The Vadso church hangs 
in our sitting-room, and we value it highly as a 
memento of thy Northern travel. It gives me a 
good idea, I must think, of Arctic scenery." 


The painful duty of announcing the death of his 
sister came to him on the 3d of September, 1864, 
and he wrote to Lucy Larcom : " Our dear Liz- 
zie is no longer with us. She passed away this 
morning. Notwithstanding her great weakness, I 
find I was not prepared foi^*the event. It is terri- 
ble — the great motive of life seems lost." Again 
he wrote, September 14 : " We were friends be- 
fore , thee knew my dear sister ; but now all who 
loved her, and whom she loved in turn, are nearer 
and dearer to me. I shall not be able to visit 
Manchester. The reaction from the anxious care 
and solicitude of the last few months I still feel. 
I feel it difficult even now to realize all I have 
lost. But I sorrow without repining, and with a 
feeling of calm submission to the Will which I 
am sure is best. If I can help it, I do not intend 
the old homestead to be gloomy and forbidding, 
through my selfish regrets. She would not have 
it so. She would wish it cheerful with the * old 
familiar faces' of the friends whom she loved 
— and still loves. I hope thee and other friends 
will feel the same freedom to visit me as hereto- 

" The Vanishers " was the first poem written by 
Whittier after the death of his sister Elizabeth, 
and it was the poem which this sister's dearest 
friend, Lucy Larcom, chose to read at the memo- 
rial service held at the Whittier birthplace, soon 
after his death. This poem was sent to J. T. 
Fields, for insertion in the " Atlantic," in a letter 
dated Amesbury, 27th 9th mo., 1864: "I take 
the liberty of inclosing a little poem of mine. 


which has beguiled some weary hours. I hope 
thee will like it. How strange it seems not to 
read it to my sister ! If thee have read School- 
craft thee will remember what he says of the Puck- 
wud-jinnies, or ' Little Vanishers.' ^ The legend is 
very beautifid, and I hope I have done it justice 
in some sort." 

In October, he wrote to Miss Larcom : " It is 
now four weeks since Lizzie left us. How much I 
have lived and thought in that time ! . . . I want 
thee to feel that the old homestead door is always 
open to thee. I rode to Haverhill last week. It 
is very beautiful on the riverbanks now — not in 
their full glory yet, but giving splendid promise. 
The woods I find still have power to charm and 
soothe me. My health is better in some respects 
at the present time, but I cannot write. I busy 
myself with my garden, and the building of the 
new schoolhouse, as much as possible." 


lOth mo., 1864. 
My dear sister's illness was painful and most 
distressing, yet she was patient, loving, and cheer- 
ful even to the last. How much I miss her ! how 
much less I have now to live for. But she is at 

^ See Schoolcraft's History, Condition, and Prospects of the 
American Indians, published by Wanza, Foot and Co., Rochester, 
1851, pp. 122 and 123. The chapter on Indian mytholo^ con- 
tains "The Legends of lagon," by Mrs. E. Oakes Smith, in 
which reference is made to the Puck-wnd-jinnies, — literally, 
" little men who vanish,' ' — who watched Chemaniton as he amused 
himself making various creatures, taking back the life he gave 
them, if they did not appear to be of so much use in the world 
and so attractive as the " Little Vanishers.'* 


rest ; surely, few needed it or deserved it more, if 
it were proper to speak of desert in that connec- 
tion. A pure, generous, loving spirit was hers. 
I shall love all her friends better for her sake. 
The autumn woods are exceedingly beautiful at 
this time. I miss dear Elizabeth to enjoy them 
with me, but even now I realize the truth of Keats' 
line, " A thing of beauty is a joy forever," and I 
am thankful that I can still find peace in conunun- 
ion with outward nature in this season of glory 
and beauty. I wonder sometimes that I can be 
cheerful and attend to my daily duties, since life 
has lost so much of its object. But I have still 
many blessings, — kind friends and books, and 
the faith that God is good, and good only. 


llth mo., 29, 18^. 
I trust thee will be pleased with the inclosed 
photograph [of Elizabeth]. It was taken ten 
years ago. Elizabeth did not think it good. She 
disliked the appearance of the dress or attitude, I 
think. It was a daguerreotype and makes a good 
photograph. To me, at least, it is invaluable. I 
rejoice in it exceedingly. I shall go to Boston the 
last of the week to be present at the electoral 
college next Third day. I have just written a 
prose story ^ for the " Young Folks." 

Mr. Whittier's acquaintance with Lucy Larcom 
began, during his residence in Lowell, in 1844. 
She was at that time employed in the mills, and 

1 David MatsoHj the Lost Man. 


had developed a literary taste and capacity which 
had brought her into notice as one of the lead- 
ing contributors to the " Lowell Offering," a maga- 
zine that was attracting much attention, not only in 
this country, but abroad, as a successful venture 
in literature by factory operatives. Mr. Whittier 
assisted and encouraged her, and interested his 
mother and sister in her behalf. She soon became 
the dearest friend of Elizabeth Whittier, and was 
a frequent visitor at the home in Amesbury, re- 
ceiving the heartiest welcome from each member 
of the family. In a letter of Elizabeth's, among 
the papers of Mr. Whittier, is found this sentence : 
*^It seems to me that a new grace has ripened in 
Lucy every time I see her." In the extracts from 
Mr. Whittier's letters, it will be seen that the fact 
of Elizabeth's dear love for her was a constant 
incentive to kind words and deeds in her behalf. 
All his life he was thoughtful for her welfare, 
and helped in every way in which he could render 
assistance. When Elizabeth passed away, it was 
Miss Larcom who solaced the heart of the be- 
reaved brother by procuring the admirable portrait 
of her friend, which has ever since hung in the 
parlor at Amesbury, opposite the gracious portrait 
of the mother. These two pictures were to Mr. 
Whittier the dearest of his earthly possessions, in 
the long years of his separation from the saintly 
women they represented. If a fire threatened his 
dwelling, his first thought was to save these treas- 
ures. He wished, in case Miss Larcom survived 
him, that she should have the portrait of Elizabeth, 
but she declined to have it removed, preferring it 


should remain in the room it had so long conse- 

In a biographical sketch, which forms the in- 
troduction to the " Letters of Lydia Maria Child," 
Mr. Whittier has shown how her noble " Appeal " 
closed to her the doors of literary success which 
had previously been thrown wide open for her. 
His words are so fully applicable to his own case 
as to be worth quoting. Mrs. Child and he had 
both entered upon literary careers of great promise, 
when at the call of duty they gave up the popular- 
ity they had won, and encountered prejudice and 
hati*ed they might easily have avoided. Of Mrs. 
Child he says in this "Introduction," written in 
1883 : " It is quite impossible for any one of the 
present generation to imagine the popular surprise 
and indignation which the book called forth, or 
how entirely its author cut herself off from the 
favor and sympathy of a large number of those 
who had previously delighted to do her honor. 
Social and literary circles, which had been proud 
of her presence, closed their doors against her. 
The sale of her books, the subscriptions to her 
magazine, fell off to a ruinous extent. She knew 
all she was hazarding, and made the great sacrifice, 
prepared for all the consequences that followed. 
... It is not. exaggeration to say that no man 
or woman of that period rendered more substan- 
tial service to the cause of freedom, or made such 
a great renunciation in doing it." 

Every word of this generous tribute applies, as 
the reader will see, to the precisely similar case of 
him who wrote it. The warm, steady, and lasting 


friendship that existed between Mrs. Child and 
Mr. Whittier is explained by this hard experience 
through which they both passed at the same time. 


15th, 11th mo., 1864. 

Thy beautiful book ^ and kind letter reached me 
a few days ago, and my heart has been thanking 
thee ever since. It was an exceedingly happy 
thought of thine to send out these words of cheer 
to those of us who are beginning to pass down life's 
sunset declivities. I do not like, however, to have 
thee call thyself old. I never think of thee as such. 
Where the heart and fancy are still young, why 
should we recur to family registers? ... I am 
thinking how much my sister would have liked thy 
book. How strange and terrible are these separa- 
tions — this utter silence — this deep agony of mys- 
tery — this reaching out for the love which we feel 
must be ever living, but which gives us no sign ! Ah, 
my friend I What is there for us but to hold faster 
and firmer our faith in the goodness of God ? that 
all which He allots to us or our friends is for the 
best ! — best for them, for us, for all. Let theology, 
and hate, and bigotry talk as they will, I for one 
will hold fast to this, God is good; He is our 
Father I He knows what love is, what our hearts, 
sore and bereaved, long for, and He will not leave 
us comfortless, for is He not Love ? . . . What a 
glorious result is the late election ! My heart has 
anticipated Governor Andrew's proclamation, and 
kept the Thanksgiving ever since. ... I saw the 
1 Looking toward Sunset. 


bust of Colonel Shaw that thee spoke to me of 
at the colored fair. It struck me as excellent. 
I am not, perhaps, a judge of such matters, but 
it seems to me it is a success. Give my love to 
thy husband. Let me congratulate him on the 
prospect of seeing the end of slavery, for which he 
has so long labored. 


12th mo., 20, 1864. 
Thy little book lies handy on my desk, and I 
love to turn to it. It is devotional without cant, 
pure without any lack of beauty and adornment. 
To me it is better than anything of Vaughn or 
Herbert, excepting a very few pieces of the latter. 
Thee ought to be very happy to have written so 
little and so well. ... It has been my lot to see 
and hear of a great deal of misery among my 
married acquaintances and friends. As for bach- 
elors and single sisters, they ^^die and make no 
sign " if they are miserable. ... I have just re- 
ceived from Charles Sumner's sister the verde 
antique statuette of Hercules which used to stand 
on his centre table. 

In the presidential campaign of 1864, the re- 
nomination of Lincoln did not at first receive the 
unanimous approval of his party. There was a 
large body of Eepublicans, particularly among the 
Germans of the West, and the more radical anti- 
slavery men at the East, who desired to support 
such a man as Fremont, who it was felt had been 
badly treated by the administration. The chair^ 


man of the Bepiiblican national committee, in this 
emergency, made a personal appeal to Fremont to 
stand aside, promising political preferment to his 
friends and the removal from office of his enemies. 
Fremont was not a£Eected by appeals of this nature, 
but finally decided to give up his candidacy, a 
principal motive of this action being a message he 
received from Mr. Whittier, reference to which is 
made in the following extract from a letter written 
by Mrs. Fremont in November, 1889 : — 

" Among the words I remember from you are : 
* There is a time to do^ and a time to stand aside.^ 
I never forgot your saying this to me at our 
Nahant cottage (in 1864), where you had come to 
say them to Mr. Fremont. Wendell Phillips, who 
saw the ' do ' more clearly than the ' stand aside,' 
insisted I had dreamed your visit. ' Whittier goes 
nowhere — he never visits — his health does not 
let him,' and other laughing argmnents against 
your wise and necessary view of what the time de- 
manded of Mr. Fremont — to renounce self for the 
good of the greater number. Do you not remem- 
ber it, too ? It was a deciding word coming from 
you. And how we have outlived all of that time ! " 

As the demand for his books gradually in- 
creased, his publishers were induced to offer him a 
larger percentage on the sales, and Mr. Whittier 
wrote this note of thanks: "I gladly accept thy 
liberal offer, and only hope the public will make 
the arrangement one of mutual profit. At any 
rate, I should be sorry if I thought my gain would 
be at your expense as publishers. You have 
always dealt with me better than I deserved." 


'* The Mantle of St. John de Matha " was sent 
to Mr. Fields, in 1864, with the following note : 
" Is the inclosed a true ballad ? I often sadly mis- 
take about my pieces, but the feeling of this seems 
to be genuine, whatever the expression of it may 
be. I hope thee will like it, and that it may be 
thought worthy of a place in the New Year ' At- 
lantic' " 

When "The Changeling" was sent in 1865, 
Whittier wrote : " Some time I hope to be able to 
add a third volume, which will be a sort of history 
of the anti-slavery movement for the last thirty 
years. I send a poem which I hope is good. I am 
not sure; but I have bestowed some pains upon 
it, and it seems as near right as I can make it. 
... It is a great thing to live in these days. I 
am thankful for what I have lived to see and hear." 

The poem "Laus Deo!" was suggested to Mr. 
Whittier as he sat in the Friends' meeting-house 
in Amesbury, and listened to the bells and the 
cannon which were proclaiming the passage of the 
constitutional amendment abolishing slavery, in 
1865. It was the regular Fifth day meeting, and 
as the Friends sat in silence, their hearts responded 
to the joy that filled all the outside air : — 

**It is done! 

Clang of bell and roar of gnn 
Send the tidings up and down. 

How the belfries rock and reel ! 

How the great guns, peal on peal. 
Fling the joy from town to town 1 

'^ Let ns kneel : 
God^s own voice is in that peal, 
And this spot is holy ground. 


Lord, forgive us ! Wliat are we, 
That our eyes this glory see, 
That our ears have heard the sound ? '* 

When he returned to his home, he recited these 
passages, which had not yet been committed to 
paper, to the family sitting in the "garden room." 
He had given thirty years of his life to bring 
about this event, and his whole heart went out in 
praise to God, who had 

** smitten with his thunder 
The iron walls asunder." 

This poem was first published in the " Indepen- 
dent," of February 9, 1865, and it is referred to iu 
a letter to Lucy Larcom, under date of 2d mo., 
1865 : " I am glad thee like my poem in the ' In- 
dependent.' It wrote itseU, or rather sang itself, 
while the bells rang." 

The following extract is from a letter to Robert 
C. Waterston, read at a meeting of the Massachu- 
setts Historical Society, called to pay a tribute to 
the memory of Edward Everett : — 

" When I last met him as my colleague in the 
Electoral College of Massachusetts, his look of 
health and vigor seemed to promise us many years 
of his wisdom and usefulness. On greeting him, I 
felt impelled to express my admiration and grate- 
ful appreciation of his patriotic labors, but I shall 
never forget how readily he turned attention from 
himself to the great cause in which we had a com- 
mon interest, and expressed his thankfulness to 
God that we had still a country to serve. To keep 
green the memory of such a man is at once a privi- 
lege and a duty. That stainless life of seventy 


years is a priceless legacy. His hands were pure ; 
the shadow of suspicion never fell on him. If he 
erred in his opinions, no selfish interest weighed in 
the scale of his judgment against the truth. As 
our thoughts follow him to his last quiet resting- 
place, we are sadly reminded of his own touching 
lines written many years ago at Florence. The 
name he has left behind is none the less ' pure ' 
that instead of being a ^ humble ' one, as he then 
anticipated, it is on the lips of grateful millions, 
and written in ineffaceable letters on the record of 
his country's trial and triumph : — 

'* ' Tet not for me, when I shall fall aaleep, 
ShaU Santa Croce's lamps their vigils keep. 
Beyond the main, in Auburn's quiet shade, 
With those I loved and love my couch be made ; 
Spring's pendent branches o'er the hillock wave, 
And morning's dewdrops glisten on my grave ; 
While Heaven's g^reat arch shall rise above my bed, 
When Santa Groce's crumbles on her dead ; 
Unknown to erring or to suffering fame, 
So I may leave a pure though humble name I ' " 

In March, 1865, Mrs. Child sent him her three 
volumes on the " Progress of Keligious Ideas ; " it 
was at the time when there was some anxiety about 
Andrew Johnson's course as Vice-President, and 
Mr. Whittier referred to that and to the policy 
of reconstruction : " I do not know when I have 
been so pleased as when I opened the express pack- 
age and found thy three volumes. We have them 
in our Library, but I did not own them, and I am 
more than glad to have them at hand for their own 
sake, as well as a memorial of our friendship. I 
hope to be able to send thee something of mine ere- 


long. • • • I am more and more inclined to think 
we have got a strong man in Andrew Johnson ; he 
has a good deal of the old Jackson strength of will. 
There is no fear that slavery is not to be utterly 
annihilated, and ground into powder under his 
heel. What I fear is that he is not quite demo- 
cratic enough to give the black man the suffrage, 
or rather give his aid and influence in that direc- 
tion. But the safety of the negro is in the fact, 
more and more apparent, that there is no possibil- 
ity of a safe reconstruction of the States without 
his vote. This will be perceived ; and we shall be 
compelled, as a matter of self-interest, to do justice 
to the loyal black man. ... I am glad to know 
thy views about capital punishment. I almost 
feared that like some other of my friends the 
events of the last four years had changed thy 
views. I hope we shall have no unnecessary hang- 
ing to gratify an evil desire for revenge." 

When the war was over, Mr. Whittier, as might 
be expected, took a lively interest in the questions 
growing out of the necessary readjustment of the 
affairs of the States which had made an unsuc- 
cessful attempt to secede. In June, 1865, a meet- 
ing was held in Faneuil Hall to consider plans for 
reconstruction. Mr. Whittier was one of the vice- 
presidents of this meeting, and was placed on the 
committee to prepare an address " to the people of 
the United States." Kichard H. Dana, Jr., was 
chairman of this committee, and the other mem- 
bers were Theophilus Parsons, Charles G. Loring, 
Jacob M. Manning, Samuel G. Howe, George L. 
Stearns, and William Endicott, Jr. The address 


published by them was a temperate and well-con- 
sidered paper, demanding that the principle must 
be put beyond all question that the Republic " has 
a direct claim upon the allegiance of every citizen, 
from which no State can absolve him ; that the 
system of slavery must be abolished by pa'tamount 
and irreversible law ; and that the systems of the 
States must be truly republican." In the prelim- 
inary statement of this address it is said that '^ in 
the arrangement with General Weitzel at Rich- 
mond, and in the Sherman-Johnston pacification, 
our government barely escaped a serious if not a 
fatal political defeat, at the hands of a vanquished 
enemy." The address was sent by Mr. Steams 
to Mr. Whittier for his signature, and this was his 
reply, dated 3d 7th mo., 1865 : — 

" I have carefully looked over the ' Faneuil 
Hall Address,' and find it all I could wish. I 
can cheerfully sign it. I noted but one sentence 
which caused me any hesitation. I allude to that 
which speaks of Generals Weitzel and Sherman. 
I would prefer that no name should be mentioned 
in that connection. Our object is to persuade our 
fellow-citizens that in the matter of the Freedmen, 
justice and expediency, duty and interest, point in 
one direction. We should be careful, I think, to 
avoid giving offense to the friends and admirers of 
Sherman or any other popular general. But per- 
haps my objection is not of sufficient importance 
to cause any change in the address. I am ready 
to sign it as it is. God grant that it may be in- 
strumental in saving us from the sin and shame of 
a reconstruction which shall at the same time give 


a premium to rebellion in the increase of political 
power, and punish loyalty with outlawry." 

Not long after the close of the civil war, a small 
but heavy box came by express from Chattanooga 
to the poet's home in Amesbury. When the 
cover was removed a peculiar array of iron points 
was visible, and his niece called in alarm : " Oh, 
Uncle Greenleaf , don't touch it ! It is some 
dreadful explosive thing those Southerners have 
sent to kill you I Don't touch it ! " It was de- 
cided to bury the dangerous machine in the garden. 
The next day's mail brought a letter from a friend 
saying he had sent a paperweight quaintly mod- 
eled from Northern and Southern minie bullets, 
picked up on the battle-field of Lookout Moun- 
tain. From its ignominious burial it was resur- 
rected to a post of honor on the poet's desk in the 
" garden room," where it remained until after he 
passed away, when it was given to Mr. Houghton, 
his publisher. 




" Snow-Bound " was written after two persons 
had passed away whom Mr. Whittier loved de- 
votedly, — his mother and his sister. In one 
sense, the poem is a memorial of them, and as he 
could not dissociate them from his home life, the 
poem became a narrative of his early days in 
Haverhill. The first intimation of the poem is 
found in a note to Fields, dated August 28, 1865 : 
" I am writing a poem, ' Snow-Bound, a Winter 
Idyl,' a homely picture of old New England 
homes. If I ever finish, I hope and trust it will 
be good." The manuscript of the poem was sent 
to Fields, October 8, 1865, with this letter : " I 
have tby note of this date. In answer I send 
^ Snow-Bound ' to d6 with as seemeth best in thy 
sight. I shall see some things wrong when I get 
the proof, — as it is now I cannot do mach more 
with it, owing to illness. I think thee will like 
some parts of the conclusion. The portrait of 
that strange pilgrim, Harriet Livermore, the 
-erratic daughter of Judge Livermore of New 
Hampshire, who used to visit us, is as near the 
life as I can give it." 


Mr. Fields, in returning the proof-sheets, made 
some suggestions, and Mr. Whittier wrote : " I 
thank thee for looking over my poem. I have 
acted as well as I could on thy hints, but I have 
left one ' bad rhyme,' heard and word^ to preserve 
my well-known character in that respect. I don't 
know about the portrait. At first thought, it 
strikes me that it would be rather out of place at 
the head of a new venture in rhyme. I don't 
want to run the risk of being laughed at. How- 
ever, do as thee likes about it. Put thyself in the 
place of Mrs. Gnmdy, and see if it will be safe 
for any * counterfeit presentment ' to brave the old 
lady's criticism. I think I have not injured the 
piece by my alterations, — that on the second page 
of the proof is rather improved ilian otherwise ; 
and I have added two lines ^ to my slightly lacka- 
daisical reference to the boys and girls, in road- 
breaking. Don't send the poem to me again. I 
shall tear it all to pieces with alterations, if thee 
do. In the picture of the old home, the rim of 
hemlocks, etc., at the foot of the high hill which 
rises abruptly to the left, is not seen. They would 
make a far better snow picture than the oaks which 
are in the view. Don't put the poem on tinted or 
fancy paper. Let it be white as the snow it tells 

These are the changes made in the proof-sheets, 
returned in November, 1866 : — 

^ These lines were : — 

** And reading In Bach, mlidve tort 
The Ghana with Eden never loot.** 

496 « SNO W-BOUND " 

1. I cannot alter the phrase " mindless wind *' to 
suit me. Let it pass. 

2. " They sat the dean-winged hearth abont." 

[Afterwards changed to " We sat," etc. Probably 
Mr. Fields called attention to the phrase for which 
" clean-winged " is substituted.] 

3. " Dipped by the hungry, steaming hot." 

[The line for which this is substituted does not 
appear in his letter.] 

4. " Womanly atmosphere " must be allowed to 

6. ** The woodchnck like a hennit gr^ay 

Peered from the doorway of his ceU " 

[is substituted for] 

'* The woodchnck in his robes of gray 
Peered like a hermit from his o«il." 

6. ** He played the old and simple games 

Our modem boyhood scarcely names." 

[In a subsequent revision this couplet is omitted, 
or enlarged as it now appears in the sketch of the 
schoolmaster. The poet finally decided to give 
the names of some of the games.] 

7. " Or held the good dame's winding-yam." 

[We do not find the line for which this is sub- 

8. *' That none might lack, that bitter night" 

[These alternatives are given :] 

*' That none might lack, on such a night." 

" That none might lack, through such a night." 

I prefer the original ; it is better and clearer, in 
spite of the two thats — but take thy way. [Mr. 
Whittier's way was finally taken.] 

9. I should alter the conclusion thus : — 

" Like the odors blown 
From nnseen meadows newly mown, 
Or lilies floating in some pond, 
Wood-fringed, the wayside gaze beyond ; 
The traveler feels the grateful sense 
Of sweetness near, he knows hot whence, 
And, pausing, owns with forehead bare 
The benediction of the air." 

[In the fifth line the word " feels " is changed to 
" owns," and in the seventh " takes " is substituted 
for " owns." Mr. Whittier adds :] 

I am glad thee called my attention to the in- 
closed lines, for I think I have made a good 

Again he writes: "I have been looking over 
the proof of ' Snow-Bound,' and I now quite agree 
with thee and Annie F., that the poem is (though 
I say it who should n't) good. If the public don't 
see it, so much the worse for the public. I have 
added three or four pages, perhaps, and will send 
it back whenever thee want it. I wish it could 
come out in season for winter fireside reading — 
the very season for it. ... I shall dedicate it to 
my brother, and shall occupy one page with quota- 
tions from Cor. Agrippa, and from Emerson's 
* Snow Storm.' ... I like the page and type very 

This letter about " Snow-Bound " was written 
to Lucy Larcom, October 9, 1865 : " I wanted to 
answer thy last letter right off, and send my MS. 
of * Snow-Boimd,' but I was sick, and the poem 
was in fragments, and I did not like to send it in 
such a shape. I have sent it, however, to Fields, 

498 « SNO W-BOUND " 

and he likes it so much that he means to make a 
book of it, some time or other, with illustrations 
by Darley. It is a winter idyl — a picture of an 
old-fashioned farmer's fireside in winter — and if 
it were not mine I should call it pretty good. [Mr. 
Whittier had written thus far, when he was called 
away, and a month later he finished his letter as 
follows:] 10th 11th mo. So far I had written 
when I went to Boston, and met thee at Ticknor & 
Fields's. I have since received a line from thee at 
Hartford. . . . My little poem will not be illus- 
trated — only a view of the old farmhouse in a 
snowstorm, copied from a photograph. When it 
will appear I cannot say. Would n't the dog days 
be a suitable season for it ? " 

On the 3d of November he wrote to Fields : 
" Is it too late to make a slight alteration in my 
poem ? Near its close, on the 45th page, I think, 
the passage which reads thus : — 

*' Where, drawn by Katnre^s subtlest law, etc., 
I would like to change to 

*' Where, drawn by Nature's subtlest law, 
Haply the watchful young men saw 
Sweet doorway pictures, etc. 

This will omit two lines. If the omission will be 
difficult, let tiie whole passage read as follows : 

^ Where, drawn by Nature's subtlest law, 
The fond constraint which none elude, 
Life's zest and pleased disquietude. 

Haply the watchful young men saw 

Sweet doorway pictures, etc. 

If the change cannot be made,^ don't trouble thy- 
self to answer my note." 
^ Thid change was made ; the two lines, whsteyer they may 


Those who have editions of " Snow-Bound " 
printed before 1875 will find the phrase " Pindas- 
born Araxes," which has since been changed to 
"Pindus-born Aracthus," as in that year Mr. 
Whittier found that the similarity of names had 
misled him. It was the Aracthus he had in mind 
when the poem was written. Another error, more 
obvious, persistently held its place in the poem, 
through every successive edition, from 1866 to 
1893 : — 

" The wedding kneU and dirge of death." 
It was written " wedding 6eZZ." Mr. Whittier's 
attention was called to it several years ago, and he 
said he would have it corrected in the next edition. 
It was corrected in the Artists' Edition, but in no 
other. He frequently received letters from teach- 
ers and students in schools where his poems were 
being critically studied. A school girl in a West- 
em State wrote to say that there was a dispute 
in her class about a passage in "Snow-Bound." 
They did not see how the snow could form a 
Chinese roof over the weU if there was a sweep. 
One of the class suggested there might be two 
wells, one covered with a roof and the other open ; 
but as that seemed very improbable, the writer 
ventured to appeal to the poet for an explanation, 
and the tone of her letter indicated that she could 
not see any possible way out of the difficulty. 
Mr. Whittier replied that there was no roof over 
the curb ; it was all open, except that on one side 
a board was laid over the curb, forming a shelf. 

have been, were omitted, and the two here suggested were not 
used. It was a pity to throw them away. 



T6e snow was sometimes piled upon this shelf 
in fantastic shapes, giving the idea of a Chinese 

" Painful Sewel's ancient tome," mentioned in 
the sketch of his mother, is the " History of the 
Christian People called Quakers," by William 
Sewel, a Dutchman. The name is not correctly 
spelled except in late editions of " Snow-Bound." 
Sewel was born in Amsterdam and was of English 
extraction. He died about 1725, having spent 
twenty-five years of his old age in collecting the 
materials for his history. It was originally writ- 
ten in Low Dutch, and was translated into Eng- 
lish by Sewel himself, who dedicated his work to 
George I. It is devoted mostly to the story of the 
persecutions of the Friends in Great Britain and 
in America. Many instances are related of swift 
retribution that came upon the persecutors of the 
Quakers. An American edition was published in 
Philadelphia in 1823, in two volumes of about six 
hundred pages each, and it was this edition which 
was in the library of Mr. Whittier's father, and 
was referred to in the poem. 

While at Sturtivant's Farm, in the summer of 
1888, Mrs. Anthony, of Providence, showed Mr. 
Whittier a copy of the first edition of "Snow- 
Bound." He took the book, and wrote these lines 
on a fly-leaf : — 

" Twenty years have taken flight 
Since these pages saw the light. 

All home-loves are gone ; 
But not all with sadness still 
Do the eyes of memory fill 

As I g^aze thereon. 



" Lone and weary life seemed, when 
First these pictures of the pen 

Grew upon my page, 
But I still have loving friends, 
And the peace our Father sends 

Cheers the heart of age.*' 

Mr. Whittier's share in the profits of the first 
issue of " Snow-Bound " amounted to ten thou- 
sand dollars, a success which greatly surprised 
him ; but there was always mingled with the sur- 
prise and pleasure of the competence that had 
come to him so unexpectedly, the regret that his 
mother and sister had passed away without enjoy- 
ing the added comforts and luxuries it was now in 
his power to supply. Besides the great break in 
his home which seems immediately to have given 
rise to this poem, the close of the long period of 
struggle with the slave power undoubtedly affected 
him by giving a rebound to the more peaceful 
movements of his nature. The years from 1832 
to 1865 had been the years of his greatest mental 
activity. Besides his extensive correspondence and 
prose writings, he wrote during this period nearly 
three hundred poems, more than a third of which 
bore directly or indirectly upon the subject of 

Some other American poets, even those who had 
written bravely against the system of slavery, con- 
sented to leave out of their collected works such 
poems as would be offensive to their Southern 
readers. Whittier never made this concession to 
popular prejudice, and issued no edition of his 
works that did not present him as an uncompro- 
mising foe of slavery. But it was easy to see that 

502 *' SNOW-BOUND'' 

his enmity to the institution did not extend to in- 
dividual shiveholders. All his life he numbered 
among his personal friends not only apologists for 
slavery, but slaveholders themselves. In replying 
to the charge of a Southern paper that he was an 
enemy of the South, he once wrote to a friend ; — 
" I was never an enemy to the South or the hold- 
ers of slaves. I inherited from my Quaker ances- 
try hatred of slavery, but not of slaveholders. To 
every call of suffering or distress in the South I 
have promptly responded to the extent of my abil- 
ity. I was one of the very first to recognize the 
rare gift of the Carolinian poet Timrod, and I was 
the intimate friend of the lamented Paul H. Hayne, 
though both wrote fiery lyrics against the North. 
I am sure no one rejoices more heartily than I do 
at the prosperity of the Southern States." 


1st mo., 27, 1866. 
My book, I think, will be out in a month or so, 
and I am busy with proof. Elizabeth's picture 
came safely last night, and I am happy in its pos- 
session. I cannot tell thee how glad I am, nor how 
deeply I appreciate the delicate kindness of the 
gift. I shall never see it without a gratefid recog- 
nition of the giver. The more I look at it, the 
more striking seems the likeness. It seems to me 
that it could not be better ; pray tell the artist how 
well satisfied I am. Apart from the likeness, it is 
really a fine work of art. It gives Elizabeth's best 
expression, such as I so often have seen, when she 
was comparatively well and happy. 



2d mo., 7, 1866. 
I may be in Boston erelong ; but it is too cold 
now to leave home. See all ihe pretty things thee 
can in Boston — go to the picture shops — peep in 
at all the gay windows, and make the most of thy 
opportunity. I always do, and should like to be 
there and help thee. 


2d mo., 27, 1866. 
I am glad thee found " Snow-Bound " as good 
as thee expected. I see now a great many faults ; 
but I defer after all to the better judgment of my 
friends. They tell me it is all right, and I shut 
my eyes and make myself believe it. 


25ih 3d mo., 1866. 
Beliere me, Lncy Larcom, it gives me real sorrow 
That I camiot take my carpet-bag and go to town to-morrow ; 
But I 'm *' snow-bonnd," and cold on cold like layers of an onion 
Have piled my back and weighed me down as with the pack of 

The northeast wind is damper and the northwest wind is colder, 
Or else the matter simply is that I am growing older. 
And then I dare not trust a moon seen over one's left shonlder. 
As I saw this with slender horns caught in a west hill pine, 
As on a Stamboul minaret curves the arch-impostor's sign, — 
So I must stay in Amesbury, and let you go your way. 
And g^ess what colors greet your eyes, what shapes your steps 

delay ; 
What pictured forms of heathen lore, of god and goddess please 

What idol graren images you bend your wicked knees to. 
But why should I of evil dream, well knowing at your head goes 
That flower of Christian womanhood, our dear good Anna Mead- 
• ows. 

504 " SNOW-BOUND " 

She '11 be discreet, I 'm sore, althongrh once in a freak romantie 
She flung the Doge's bridal ring and married '* The Atlantic' ' 
And, spite of all appearances, like the woman in a shoe 
She 's got so many *^ Yonng Folks " ^ now, she don't know what 

to do. 
But I mnst say I think it strange that thee and Mrs. Spanlding, 
Whose lives with Calyin's five-railed creed have been so tightly 

walled in, 
Should quit your Puritan homes, and take the pains to go 
So far, with malice aforethought, to '* walk in a vain show I " 
Did Emmons hunt for pictures ? Was Jonathan Edwards peepng 
Into the chambers of imagery with maids for Thormuz weeping ? 
Ah well ! the times are sadly changed, and I myself am feeling 
The wicked world my Quaker coat from off my shoulderspeeling. 
Qod grant that in the strange new sea of change wherein we swim, 
We still may keep the good old plank, of simple faith in Him ! 

The following letter to his friend, Margaret 
Burleigh, was written before the full success of 
" Snow-Bound " had become evident : — 

Amesbubt, 14th 7th mo., 1866. 
I thank thee for thy kind note of congratulation 
upon my supposed riches. I only wish I could 
make out a better case for it. I have been favored 
more than I ever dreamed of, however. " Snow- 
Bound " has given or will give me about $2000, 
and my little speculation of $300 has given me 
$1200. This, with what I had before, enables me 
to meet the extra expenses of living in these 
times, and to send my niece to Ipswich Seminary, 
leaving me about $100 a year for charities, but with 
nothing for superfluities. So that I am satisfied — 
more would only be burdensome, as it is now too 
late for me to make a display with money, or at- 

^ Our Yfiung Folhsy as well as the Atlantic^ was published by 
Fields, Osgood & Co., and Miss Larcom was editing the juyenile 


tempt a fast life. When it pleases the Lord to call 
me, I shall leave little to quarrel about among my 
relatives. If my health allowed me to write I could 
make money easily now, as my anti-slavery repu- 
tation does not injure me in the least, at the pres- 
ent time. For twenty years I was shut out from 
the favor of booksellers and magazine editors, but 
I was enabled by rigid economy to live in spite of 
them — and to see the end of the infernal institu- 
tion which proscribed me. Thank God for it. 

In the three years that had elapsed since the 
publication of the last collection of Whittier's 
poems, *' In War Time," he had written several 
popular ballads which he was prepared to string 
together upon the light thread of a summer story, 
adding some hitherto unpublished poems, with the 
title of " The Tent on the Beach." He was de- 
layed by ill health, and to an inquiry from Fields 
as to the progress he had made, he replied, Au- 
gust 18, 1866 : " The * Tent on the Beach ' is not 
pitched yet — nay more, the very cloth of it is 
not woven* All this summer I have been utterly 
unable to do anything of the kind ; and I some- 
times fear I shall have to give it up altogether. 
It is out of the question for this season. I am so 
sorry, for I meant to have made it better than 
* Snow-Bound.' It is rather a hard dispensation 
of Providence, but I dare say it is all for the best 

— there is, sooner or later, an end of all things — 
even of bad poetry. It is beaut if id weather now 

— such as used to make me stronger — but some- 
how it does not have its old-time effect." 


On the 80th of September, 1866, he inclosed 
his poem " Our Master," with this note, to Mr. 
Fields: "I inclose for Annie Fields a poem of 
mine which has never seen the light. It presents 
my view of Christ as the special manifestation of 
the Love of God to humanity. . . . Let me thank 
the publishers of ' Milton's Prose,' for the great 
compliment of the dedication. Milton's prose has 
long been my favorite reading. My whole life 
has felt the influence of his writings. ... I fear 
I can make no promise of the prose story thee ask 
for. I am forbidden to use my poor head at pres- 
ent — so I have to get along as I can without it. 
St. Leon, thee knows, walked about as usual after 
his head was cut off." 

A two-volume edition of his prose works was 
published in 1866. The reference is to this in the 
following note, dated October 30, 1866 : " The 
"pro§0 volumes are admirable — too good, I fear. 
Nobody, I am afraid, will buy them ; but it is a 
satisfaction to see one's thoughts so nicely dressed 
up, at any rate. . . . Am glad to see ' Hosea Big- 
low ' in book form. It is a great book — the best 
of its kind for the last half century or more. It 
has wit enough to make the reputation of a dozen 
modem English satirists." 

His next letter to Fields about the " Tent " was 
written December 28, and was sent with the 
copy of his completed work : " I send thee the 
MS. of the ' Tent on the Beach ' — too badly writ- 
ten to read, I fear. If it ever gets into type it 
will seem better than in its present state. Tell 
me candidly if thee object to the personal charao- 


ter of it. I have represented thee, Bayard Taylor, 
and myself, living a wild tent life for a few sum- 
mer days on the beach, where for lack of some- 
thing better I read my stories to [you]. My 
original plan was the old Decameron one — each 
person to read his own poems ; but the thing has 
been so hackneyed by repetition that I abandoned 
it in disgust, and began anew. The result is be- 
fore thee. Put it in type or on the fire, I am con- 
tent, like Eugene Aram, 'prepared for either 
fortune.' Thee must get some of thy clerks to 
fish up the ballads, which are all in the ' Atlan- 
tic,' and see how the thing looks with them. The 
scene of the poem is Salisbury Beach as it was 
half a dozen years ago. I am sorry to send so bad 
a copy, but my head will not allow me to re-write 
it. When it gets in type, if it ever does, we shall 
see what it looks like. It is too short, but I am 
not disposed to make it longer. With the poems 
to be added it will make abnost a book by itself." 

Fields at once reported his satisfaction with the 
work, and Whittier wrote, January 2, 1867 : " I 
am delighted to know that thee do not take in 
dudgeon my free use of thee ; and I am glad thee 
like the poem as a whole. I shall make it better 
if I can get it in type. It is better than ' Snow- 
Bound ' now. ... I inclose a fragment which I 
like. It goes in after ' Kallundborg Church.' " 

Fields desired immediate publication, and 
Whittier wrote, January 6 : " I am rather sur- 
prised by the announcement that the ' Tent ' must 
be pitched in midwinter; but it may be best, and 
I shall be glad to have it done and off my mind. 


... I am in doubt about the * Peace Autumn,* 
compared with the ' Battle Autumn.' It is hardly 
up to the mark." 

On the 1st of February, he wrote: "I am 
glad to know that the ' Tent ' is set up. Bayard 
Taylor sails for Europe on the 9th. I wish it 
were possible for thee to send him the sheets of the 
' Tent ' before he leaves. Do so, if it can be done 
without too much trouble." 

On the same day he had written to Taylor : " I 
must ask Fields to send thee the proof-sheets of 
' The Tent on the Beach ' ; and I here beg pardon 
for the friendly license of using thee as one of the 
imaginary trio on the seashore. I hope neither 
thee nor Marie will think I have got thee into bad 
company. And now, dear friend, dear to me, not 
on my own account alone, but on that of my dear 
mother and sister, who loved thee so well, may 
God bless and keep thee and thine during your 
European sojourn, and bring you safe back to the 
quiet of Cedarcroft. . . . Thy 'St. John' is a 
poem for poets and painters." 

The song referred to by Whittier in the follow- 
ing note to Fields was " The Worship of Nature," 
a poem ^ which had been lying in his portfolio for 
several years : " I send thee a song to be inserted 
in the place I have indicated in the proof-sheet, 
as a substitute for the verse commencing 'The 
tent was still,' etc. Of course, it will delay your 

^ The germ of this poem is to be found in yerses with the same 
title, '* The Worship of Nature," written by Whittier while in his 
teens, which were published in the Hayerhill Gazette^ Oct. 5, 


printer and be a bother to you ; but it is good, 
though I say it who shouldn't, and it must not 
be lost. For the future all will go on smoothly. I 
have bridged over the shahy place in the poem, 
and shall make no more serious alterations or addi- 
tions. I hope thee will like the song as well as I 

On the next day he wrote: "I see little to 
amend or alter. I see no great harm in two words 
so common and insignificant as ' well ' in the same 
verse. Let them slide. I sent yesterday some- 
thing of an addition. If it is not best in thy 
opinion, omit it — that is to say, the song — and in 
the proof I can make the by-talk all right. But I 
rather liked it, though I have no definite idea of it. 
I shall not meddle further with the poem, and the 
proofs will come back without much change for 
the future." 

To an inquiry about " The Maids of Attitash," 
he replied: "It is At-ti-tash — Indian name for 
huckleberry — the name of a pond or lake in 
Amesbury, which sometime I would be glad to show 
thee, as it is pretty as St. Mary's lake, which 
Wordsworth sings, — in fact a great deal prettier. 
The glimpse of the Pawtuckaway range of moun- 
tains in Nottingham seen across it is very fine, and 
it has noble groves of pines and maples and ash- 
trees. I hope thee will have no further trouble 
with the poem. I am greatly obliged for thy 
suggestions always." 

On another occasion he wrote : " See what thy 
good nature in sending me a proof has come to. 
I yield the rhyme of martyr and water to please 


thee; but reluctantly, for it is no time now to 
give up our Yankee rights of pronunciation. I 
should be hung for my bad rhymes anywhere 
south of Mason and Dixon's line. My 'speech 
bewrayeth me.' ... I have added a verse. You 
can crowd it into the page without disturbing your 
other pieces." 

The four lines which follow the song beginning, 
" Her window opens to the bay," were an after- 
thought, and were added in the proof, as follows : 

** The sweet voice into silence went, 
A silence which was almost pain, 
As ihroagh it rolled the long lament, 
The cadence of the mournful main.** 

Instances of alliteration are of frequent occur- 
rence in Whittier's writings. The principal of a 
Boston school once wrote to him inquiring if the 
alliterations in " The Wreck of Rivermouth " were 
made purposely, or unintentionally and spontane- 
ously. This was his answer : " I am glad to be 
able to tell thee that I never, in that, or any other 
poem, consciously sought alliteration, and indeed 
was not aware of it in *The Wreck of River- 
mouth,' until my attention was called to it by thy 

The sweet and tender lines entitled "The 
Friend's Burial," which were written in 1873, 
allude to the funeral of his aged friend, Elizabeth 
Gove, of Seabrook, N. H. 

The story of " The Dead Ship of Harpswell " 
came to Mr. Whittier from Miss Marion Pearl 
(now Mrs. Charles Selmar), who then resided in 
the vicinity of the scene of the legend. A pun- 


ning reference to her name is made in the intro- 
duction to the ballad, in "The Tent on the 
Beach " : — 

Here) • • • 
Is something I found last year 

Down on the island known as Orr's. 
I had it from a fair-haired g^l 
Who, oddly, bore the name of Pearl, 
(As if by some droll freak of cirenmstance,) 
Classic, or well-nigh so, in Harriet Stowe's romance/' 

Invited by Fields to pay him a visit at about the 
time the book was published, he replied: "Soli- 
tude as such has few charms for me. But I am 
and have been for many days unfit and unable to 
make any change. A miserable, inexorable head- 
ache engrosses me. I am a bundle of nerves for 
Pain to experiment upon, and I can think of no- 
thing else until this subsides. I may as well be 
here as anywhere, since I-^ should be neither use- 
ful nor ornamental, and I love my friends too well 
to inflict something which is not myself upon 

To a note of Lucy Larcom's, commending " The 
Tent on the Beach," he replied: "Thanks for 
what thee say of my new book; but it don't con- 
vince me. I have had, and still have, misgivings 
about it. It never would have been written but 
for its premature announcement. I don't mean to 
be betrayed into a book again. As Emerson says, 
' It is time to be old,' and thee knows that I have 
been ' venerable ' for a long time ; at any rate, I 
ought to have one of the privileges of age, exemp- 
tion from labor and the ' making of books of which 
there is no end.' I wrote this, or dictated it, under 


great disadvantages, and shall not blame the critics 
if they make a note of it." 

On the 18th of February, he wrote to Fields : 
"The 'Tent' looks well; I like thy part of 
it. Mine, I see, needs some corrections and emen- 
dations. But if, as the 'Transcript' says, you 
have been foolish enough to print ten thousand 
copies, there will never be a chance for that. 
It will never come to a second edition. I hope 
there is some mistake about it; I should not 
like to see your shelves loaded down with unsold 

The event proved that there was no occasion for 
anxiety ; for twenty thousand copies of the book 
were speedily sold, being called for at the rate of 
one thousand a day. On the 28th of February, 
Mr. Whittier wrote : " I got thy note last evening. 
Think of bagging in this ' tent ' of ours ah unsus- 
pecting public at the rate of a thousand a day! 
This will never do. The swindle is awful. Bar- 
num is a saint to us. I am bowed with a sense of 
guilt, ashamed to look an honest man in the face. 
But Nemesis is on our track; somebody will 
puncture our ' tent ' yet, and it will collapse like 
a torn balloon. I know I shall have to catch it ; 
my back tingles in anticipation. If a promise of 
never doing such a thing again would avail, I am 
more than ready to .make it. ... I thank thee 
for H. W. L.'s note, and thank him for his kind 
word and invitation. I would accept the last if I 
were in a bodily condition to do it." 

Mr. E. L. Godkin, editor of the "Nation," 


having quoted the passage in " The Tent on the 
Beach," in which Mr. Whittier referred to his 
editorial work, as indicating that he had a low 
estimate of his work in journalism,^ the poet wrote 
as follows to Mr. Godkin : — 

" In the half playful lines, if I did not feel at 
liberty to boast of my anti-slavery labors and to 
magnify my editorial profession, I certainly did 
not m^an to underrate them or to express the 
shadow of a regret that they had occupied so large 
a share of my time and thought. The simple fact 
is that I cannot be sufficiently grateful to the 
Divine Providence that so early called my atten- 
tion to the great interests of humanity, saving me 
from the poor ambitions and miserable jealousies 
of a selfish pursuit of literary reputation. Up to 
a comparatively recent period my writings have 
been simply episodical, something apart from the 
real object and aim of my life ; and whatever favor 
they have found with the public has come to me 
as a grateful surprise rather than as an expected 
reward. As I have never staked all on the 
chances of authorship I have been spared the pain 
of disappointment and the temptation to envy 
those who, as men of letters, occupy a higher place 
in the public estimation than I have ever aspired 

1 ^ And one there was, a dreamer bom, 

Who, -with a mission to fulfill, 
Had left the Muses' hannts to torn 

The crank of an opinion-mill, 
Making his rustic reed of song 
A weapon in the war with wrong.** 



GoTHA, March 19, 1867. 
Here in my German home, I take a leisure even- 
ing to tell how much I value the introduction 
into such a sedate company as are gathered to- 
gether in the tent by the seaside. Of course, 
there was no difficulty in recognizing my compan- 
ions. K my picture be drawn with an over-kindly 
and affectionate pencil, I would not change it if I 
could. The words which came to me like a " God- 
speed ! " at parting still echo in my heart. It is 
a pleasant thought that our names should be thus 
connected, if only to prove to the world that there 
may be faithful friendship between poets. The 
surprise and delight made me happy for many 
days. . . . Marie and I spent a day and a half 
with Tennyson. He gave us a cordial welcome, 
and in the evening read to us his " Guinevere." 
He had Whittier, in blue and gold, on his writing- 
desk, and asked me a great many questions about 
the poet, which I was glad to answer. It seems 
that the success of " Snow-Bound " in England has 
recalled attention to your other poems. While I 
was in London, I was more than once asked where 
they could be had. My friend Graham sent a 
number of copies to English and Scotch authors. 

One of the miscellaneous poems published in the 
volume with " The Tent on the Beach " was " The 
Common Question," which was suggested by the 
talk of Mr. Whittier's pet parrot, " Charlie." In 
a letter to Lucy Larcom, dated 2d mo., 7, 1866, 
he sends the poem, with the title of '^ The Bird's 


Question," for insertion in "Our Young Folks," ^ 
with the following explanation : " I have met 
with a real loss -^ poor Charlie is dead. He has 
gone where the good parrots go. He has been 
ailing and silent for some time, and he finally died. 
Don't laugh at me — but I am sorry enough to cry 
if it would do any good. He was an old friend ; 
dear Lizzie liked him. And he was the heartiest, 
joUiest, pleasantest old fellow I ever saw. And 
speaking of him reminds me of a little verse I have 
had by me, suggested by one of his sayings. I in- 
close it. Perhaps it might fill a corner of ' Our 
Young Folks.' But I am by no means sure that it 
is fit for such a place." 

Charlie used to perch on the back of his master's 
chair at meal-time, as is suggested in the poem. 
No bird or other pet was allowed to be perma- 
nently caged in the house. Charlie was a gray 
parrot, and when he came into the Quaker house- 
hold had a full and rather profane vocabulary. 
Gradually, however, his habit of swearing wore 
away, and he fell into the quiet and decorous ways 
of the house. Occasionally, uuder excitement, he 
would have a relapse, fall from grace, and shock the 
neighborhood. One Sunday morning he climbed 
the lightning-rod, while the bells were ringing for 
meeting, and the street was fuU of church-goers, 
and having reached the chimney-top began to 
dance, and sing, and swear, to the mingled amuse- 
ment and amazement of passers-by, and to the in- 
tense annoyance of the shocked household beneath, 
who could devise no way of stopping the bird's 
unholy frolic. 

^ It appeared in the namber for Jnne, 1866. 


Charlie afterward danced on that elumney to 
his sorrow. He tumbled down a flue, and was 
not discovered and rescued for two days. He was 
missed, but it was thought some cat or dog had 
made way with him, although usually he could 
easily frighten away any animal that molested him. 
His powers of speech caused intense surprise on 
the part of animals which had not become accus- 
tomed to him. From the house-top he would sing 
out " Whoa I " and stop the horses in the street. 
When it was found that he was down the flue, 
although it was in the middle of the night, a man 
was sent for, who let down a pole with a cleat on 
it. As the weak and sooty bird was being drawn 
up, he responded feebly to the encouraging call 
of his master, and as he emerged, ^^ Poor Charlie 
wants water," was his whisper. He never fully re- 
covered his strength, and soon after died, and was 
buried in the garden. Charlie had the bad habit 
of nipping at the leg of a person whose trousers 
happened to be hitched above the top of the boot. 
One day Mr. Whittier was being worn out by a 
prosy harangue from a visitor, who sat in a rock- 
ing-chair and swayed back and forth as he talked. 
As he rocked, his trousers reached the point of 
danger, and Charlie noticed it as soon as did the 
poet, who now had something that interested him. 
Charlie sidled up, unseen by the orator ; Mr. Whit- 
tier foresaw a sudden end of his harangue, and was 
not disappointed. There was a little nip, a sharp 
exclamation, and the thread of the discourse was 
broken ! The relieved poet now had the floor as 
an apologist for his discourteous parrot. When 


Charlie died, Mr. Whittiep wrote to his niece, who 
was then away at school : " We buried poor Char- 
lie decently in the snow-bank. If there is a par- 
rot's paradise, he ought to go there. I miss him 
sadly — his jolly hallo ! and droll whispers." 

A little bantam rooster of bright plumage suc- 
ceeded the parrot as a pet. He was often to be 
seen perched on the poet's shoulder, and liked to 
be buttoned up inside the Quaker coat. Whittier 
taught this bantam to wake up his young niece at 
the proper hour by his crowing. He would open 
her chamber door and put the little bird on top of 
it, where he stayed and crowed until his young 
mistress acknowledged she was awake. 

The cats and dogs of the house were Whittier's 
especial pets, and he delighted in teasing them and 
teaching them droll tricks ; this teasing propensity 
it seems was not exercised merely upon the animal 
pets of the household, but his mother and sister 
were sometimes its victims, as the ^following anec- 
dote illustrates. 

While attending a Quarterly Meeting at Ames- 
bury many years ago, Sophronia Page, an eminent 
minister, was entertained by the Whittiers. On 
starting for her home in Danvers, before daybreak, 
she took Abigail Whittier's bonnet instead of her 
own. At that .time every Quaker bonnet was like 
every other, as to the outward, and in the dim 
Hght she did not notice the name written in the 
crown. On reaching her home she discovered her 
mistake, and at once sent the bonnet with an ex- 
planatory note to Mr. Whittier. On reading the 
note, Mr. Whittier left the bandbox in the hall, 


and seating himself beside his mother began to 
sigh and rub his brow, apparently in great dis- 
tress of mind. His mother's anxiety was aroused 
at once. " Why, Greenleaf ," said she, " what is 
the matter ? Is thee ill ? " " No, I am not ill," he 
replied, "but I am feeling very much troubled, 
very sad." " Tell me what has happened ! " she 
exclaimed. He continued to sigh, and finally 
said, "Mother, I dread to tell thee, for it will 
shock and grieve thee so ; it will make thee sick 
at heart." With increasing excitement she cried, 
" Don't keep me in suspense ; tell me the worst at 
once ! " With apparent effort and enforced calm- 
ness he said, " Mother, has thee heard from So- 
phronia Page since she left here ? " " Why, no, 
has anjrthing happened to her — is she sick?" 
" She is not sick," he replied, " and no ordinary 
thing has happened to her — it is worse than that 
— there is something terrible coming out against 
her — it will shake the Yearly Meeting ! " At this 
time dissensions, which afterward culminated in a 
separation, were rife in the Society of Friends, and 
Abigail Whittier, thinking only of this threaten- 
ing cloud, said : " What is thee talking about? I 
believe Sophronia Page is too well balanced to 
take any rash steps in the Society troubles. Don't 
keep me waiting any longer." " Well, mother, if 
thee must know, I will tell thee — Sophronia Page, 
incredible as it may seem, has been taking what 
does not belong to her." At this his mother's in- 
dignation was aroused, and she replied, " Green- 
leaf, I 'd have thee know that Sophronia Page is 
not a woman to make light jokes about. I don't 


see any fun in such talk." To which he gravely 
replied : " Mother, this is no idle joke ; I am tell- 
ing the truth. Sophronia Page has been taking 
what does not belong to her. Thee will have 
to believe ity for she has begun to restore what 
she has taken I " He then produced the bonnet, 
and his mother said: "Greenleaf, if thee were 
twenty years younger, I would take thee over my 
knee 1 " 


15th 2d mo., 1867. 
God has been very good to me. I sometimes 
think I am about the richest man in the world, not 
exactly in greenbacks and deeds of warranty, but 
in loves and friendships, and the dear sense of kind 
remembrances and wishes flowing in upon me, 
peopling loneliness with forms of beauty, and dis- 
placing silence with sweet sounds. Would I forego 
all this for a name on 'Change ? By no means. I 
ought to be thankful to the dear Lord, and I trust 
I am. But it all seems so undeserved ; the partial 
praise of my friends makes me feel like one whose 
credit outruns his capital. I don't want to obtain 
anything under false pretenses. ... I thought 
after it was too late that it would have been so nice 
to have had thee stay till the next morning ; and 
when the firelight flickered and danced on the walls 
in the Evening twilight, I thought how pleasant it 
would be to have thee with us, warmed and glori- 
fied in that hearth-light. ... I will send thee a 
copy of my little book [ " The Tent on the 
Beach " ] in a few days. There are some things 


in it that I think thee will like. I wish thee would 
in'ite out for the " Atlantic " some of the good 
things thee know of the Shoals and the Shoalers. I 
have never heard anything equal in dramatic effect 
to thy stories one evening in the parlor at Apple- 

Mrs. Thaxter contributes to these pages this in- 
teresting note of reminiscence of her long and in- 
timate friendship with Mr. Whittier : — 

I cannot express the pleasure I have had in 
knowing Mr. Whittier so intimately for so many 
years. Ever since the first time he came here to 
the Isles of Shoals with his dear sister, thirty years 
ago, and fixed me with those brilliant eyes of his 
as he quietly asked me, " Can thee tell me who 
wrote ' The Summer Day ' ? " we have had the most 
delightful friendship, and I miss him out of the 
world more than any words can say. 

His sympathy and interest in all I did were in- 
valuable to me. He never gave me any peace till 
I wrote the book about the Shoals. " It is thy 
kismet," he said ; " thee must do it I " 

Po Hill, in Amesbury, where he lived so long, is 
the last hill of any importance that marks our 
coast line toward the southwest from the Shoals, 
^d I never looked across without thinking of him 
there in the pleasant years that are gone, and 
greeting him sifcntly as a near and dear neighbor. 
" Po HiU sends Appledore good-morning," was a 
favorite way he had of beginning his letters. His 
very last letter to me, dated a year ago, said, " I 


want to go to the Shoals once more, if possible, this 
summer." But when at last the crowd thinned 
toward autumn, and I wrote to him that a comfort- 
able room was ready for him, he had gone out on 
an unknown sea upon a longer voyage, and I saw 
him no more. For the inestimable boon of his 
beautiful friendship I am profoundly grateful, as 
all must be to whom such a blessing was vouch- 
safed. Our correspondence continued from the 
first year of his coming here through the whole 
thirty years, and the sonnet ^ which I inclose was 
written the second summer, on his way home to 
Amesbury, as he left the Shoals. 

Celia Thaxter. 

Appusdobe, Isles of ShoaiiB, 
June, 1893. 

^ " When we were just losing^ sight of Appledore the sun was 
in donds and the sea all around dark, bat the island itself lay, 
far off, steeped in warmest sunshine. Having nothing better to 
do, I thought of some rhymes, which I venture to send thee, 
only wishing I had something more graceful and beautiful to 
offer : — 

*' Under the shadow of a cloud, the light 
Died out upon the waters, like a smile 
Chased from a face by grief. Following the flight 
Of a IdDe bird that, scudding with the breeze. 
Dipped its crank wing in leaden-colored seas, 
I saw in sunshine lifted, clear and bright, 
On the horizon's rim the Fortunate Isle , 

That claims thee as^its fair inhabitant, 
And glad of heart I whispered, ' Be to her. 
Bird of the summer sea, my messenger ; 
Tell her, if Heaven a fervent prayer will grant, 
This Ught that falls her island home above 
Making its slopes of rock and greenness gay, 
A partial glory midst surroimding gray. 
Shall prove an earnest of our Father's love, ^ 

More and more shining to the perfect day.* ** 

J. G. W. 


There was a rumor abroad early in 1867 that 
Mr. Whittier was about to many. He refers to 
this in his letter to Lucy Larcom of March 16 : 
" Credulity, thy name is woman ! So thee believed 
that report, almost 1 Well, it may be true, but the 
first intimation of it came to me through the news- 
papers. They ought to know. I can't imagine 
how or where it started. It vexed me, but of 
course there was no help for it. It is the crud- 
est irony to congratulate a hopeless old bachelor, 
within one year of sixty, on such a prospect. I 
don't know about this ' freedom of the press.' " 


5ih 3d mo., 1867. 
The idea of offering matrimonial congratulations 
to a hopeless old bachelor trying to thread a nee- 
dle to sew on his buttons ! As well talk of agility 
to a cripple, or of a rise in government stocks to a 
town pauper. Of course, thee did n't believe the 
silly story. I don't care much about it, but I 
should be sorry to have to read congratulations 
upon it by every mail. I wish the newspaper 
scamp who started it nothing worse than to be an 
old bachelor like myself, or to have a wife like 
Mrs. Caudle. 


18th 3d mo., 1867. 
It was very kind in thee to write me a good long 
letter, knowing that I could never make a fair re- 
turn, my letters being like the Irishman's blanket, 
" too short at both ends." When I read thy letter 


I wanted to answer it right off, but I was not able 
to write then, and in fact am not now. I enjoyed 
thy little visit greatly, and sincerely hope thee will 

feel called upon to repeat it. On 's account 

I am glad she is in her old home once more, glad 
that she so kindly remembers me, and glad too for 
the little domestic intimation conveyed in thy 
floral symbols ; for there are so few really fit to be 
mothers that it is matter of rejoicing when all the 
holy and beautiful conditions of maternity seem 
united in a pure and noble woman. God bless 
her, and make her highest hopes realities I 


4th mo., 16, 1867. 
The spring delays — the time of mayflowers has 
nearly come, but they are not quite ready yet. I 
would like to have thee up here at the time of 
their blossoming. The snow still lies in the woods 
of Follymill. To-day winter has come back again, 
and a wind of despair blows out of the bitter east. 
I have read and done nothing for a long time. It 
seems a poor life of idleness, but I do not see how 
I can help it. I have had a great many strangers 
coming to look at me, and make speeches to me. 
It 's a sort of thing to make one feel sadly mean 
and ridiculous. I envy the stout, steel-muscled 
farmers. I would rather chop wood than talk poe- 
try with strangers. And indeed I think the life 
of a hard-working farmer or mechanic altogether 
more enviable than that of a writer or politician. 
Not but that poetry has been a great solace and 
refreshing, at times, to me ; and I am grateful for 


the gift of verse which has been vouchsafed to me. 
But Plato and old Mr. Weller, I fear, are right 
in their discouragement of poets. 


6di mo., 1867. 
I did not know of thy severe illness last fall, but 
that IS no reason thee should be sick again next 
fall. Do not allow thyself to dwell upon such an- 
ticipations, my dear friend, but if tolerably com- 
fortable to-day enjoy it to the extent of possibility 
and trust the good God for the future. At one 
time last winter it seemed hardly possible that I 
should live to see the orchards bloom again, but 
here I am still. God be praised therefor. Much 
of the time I can do little more than sit and think 
of old days and old friends, among whom thou art 
always numbered, very thankful to the kind Provi- 
dence which has left me so many blessings of 


8dimo., 8, 1867. 
It is to sheer kindness of heart, my dear friend, 
that I owe thy pleasant letters so vividly represent- 
ing life at the Shoals. They are wonderfully hos- 
pitable letters — they give me the freedom of the 
island. I sit by thy parlor fire in the stormy 
nights ; I see the tossing boats in the little harbor ; 
the islands ringed round with foam; I feel the 
spray as it tosses up through cleft and gorge ; and 
I hear thee telling stories to the young folks, and" 
half fancy myself a boy among them, nestling close 
to thee, with ^^not unpleasant horror" as the 


tragedy deepens. It 's all very nice, but it puzzles 
me to know why I am favored in this way. There 
must be some mistake ; I am getting what don't 
really belong to me. It was in no mock humility 
I wrote in " Andrew Kykman " : — 

'* I, -who hear with secret shame 
Praise that paineth more than hlamey 
Rich alone in favors lent, 
Virtuous hy accident, / 

Douhtful where I fain would rest, 
Frailest where I seem the hest, 
Only strong for lack of test" 

I am sure if I were younger, if I did not feel 
daily and hourly admonitions of a frail hold upon 
life, my good friends would go far to spoil me vdth 
flattery and kind ofiBces. What right has one to 
be receiving all the time, and giving nothing in 
return? After two or three days of pain and 
lassitude^ when the grasshopper becomes a burden, 
I feel so powerless and worthless, so lost in the 
absorbing egotism of mere physical sensation, that 
I should reckon myself a very dear bargain at that 
lowest of aU conceivable prices, " a tinker's whis- 
tle." . . . That Sunday night when thee was up 
aloft in the cupola, I was sitting until late on the 
piazza of our shanty at Salisbury beach, watching 
the revolving light of White Island, and telling 
my nieces of my pleasant day there. All the after- 
noon we saw the dim outline of the Shoals. At 
sunset, the level sun flashed on the vdndows of 
Appledore, as if a sudden splendor had risen out 
of the ocean. • I spent two days at the beach, and 
went home, leaving my nieces, and keeping bache- 
lor's hall for some days. I had a lady visitor part 


of the time and made her " work her passage." 
Between us we made a nice lot of currant jelly. I 
went over the river to Curson's Mills. Mary, 
Charlotte Forten, and myself went up the Arti- 
choke, floating lazily along its dreamy shores, 
where the drooping ferns, azaleas, and witch-hazels 
mirror themselves in the still water, or as Marvell 

'* Where aU things gaze themselyes and doubt 
If they be in it or ivithout." 

An illustrated edition of Whittier's poems was 
in preparation in 1867, reference to which is had 
in the following note, which inclosed for the " At- 
lantic " the poem " George L. Steams " : "I meant 
to have brought the sheets of the ' Poems ' with me 
to Boston, but as I have not been able, I now send 
them. Unless I make a complete remodeling of 
them, I must leave them much as they are. 
* Mogg Megone ' should be first in place as in time^ 
and ' In War Time ' should follow ' Home Bal- 
lads,' and close the book. Of course there will be 
a new arrangement as to the notes, which some of 
your folks must see to, as I cannot tell to what 
pages they will refer. ... I have nothing I could 
venture to send you for the ^ Atlantic,' unless the 
lines inclosed, on the death of Major Steams, will 
serve your purpose. The poem is rather ragged 
and unkempt ; but I think it would lose more than 
it would gain by any attempt to smooth it. The 
first line is all out of proportion as to length, but 
it says just what I wanted to say." 

In a note to Mrs. Fields he gives the first hint 


of his ballad "The Palatine," August 18, 1867: 
" I have written a little ballad which I am quite 
doubtful of, and wish I could consult thee and 
James T. about it. If my head will allow me to 
copy it and correct it, I shall send it to you, if you 
do not anticipate me by coming yourselves." 

The legend on which this ballad is founded was 
told to Mr. Whittier by his friend, Joseph P. 
Hazard, of Newport, R. I., two years before the 
poem was written. About two years after it was 
published, he received a curious letter from Mr. 
Benjamin Corydon, of Napoli, N. Y., who wrote : — 

"The 'Palatine' was a ship that was driven 
*upon Block Island, in a storm, more than a hun- 
dred years ago. Her people had just got ashore, 
and were on their knees thanking God for saving 
them from drowning, when the islanders rushed 
upon them and murdered them all. That was a 
little more than the Almighty could stand, so He 
sent the Fire or Phantom Ship to let them know 
He had not forgotten their wickedness. She was 
seen once a year, on the same night of the year on 
which the murders occurred, as long as any of the 
wreckers were living ; but never after all were 
dead. I must have seen her eight or ten times — 
perhaps more — in my early days. It is seventy 
years or more since she was last seen. My father 
lived right opposite Block Island, on the main 
land, so we had a fair view of her as she passed 
down by the island; then she would disappear. 
She resembled a full-rigged ship, with her sails all 
set and all ablaze. It was the grandest sight I 
ever saw in all my life. I know of only two living 


who ever saw her, — Benjamin L. Knowles, of 
Khode Island, now 94 years old, and myseK, now 
in my 92d year." 

Mr. Whittier's correspondence with Mr. Fields 
in regard to attending the readings given by Charles 
Dickens in Boston, in December, 1867, shows how 
real was his dread of finding himself surrounded 
by a large audience, unless he had the means of 
ready escape when the strain upon his nerves be- 
came too great for endurance. Fields had prom- 
ised a good seat for him, but on the evening of the 
day of the reading, December 21, he sent this 
note : ^^ Up to the last moment I have hoped to 
occupy the seat so kindly promised me for this* 
evening. But I find I must give it up. Gladden 
with it the heart of some poor wretch who dangled 
and shivered all in vain in your long queue the 
other morning. I must read my ' Pickwick ' alone, 
as the Marchioness played cribbage. I would 
so like nevertheless to see Dickens and shake that 
creating hand of his. It is as well, doubtless, so 
far as he is concerned, that I cannot do it. He will 
have enough and too much of that, I fear. I 
dreamed last night I saw him surrounded by a mob 
of ladies each with her scissors snipping at his hair, 
and he seemed in a fair way to be ^ shaven and 
shorn 'like the priest in the house that Jack built.*' . 

In the afternoon of the same day, he had arrived 
in Boston, and had taken a room at his usual 
inn, the Marlboro, . whence he sent this note to 
Fields : ^' I came in from Lynn not expecting to 
hear the reading this evening, and not well enough 
really to go into a crowded hall for two hours. If 


thee have any use for the ticket, or if anybody 
would be disappointed by not having it, I shall be 
quite as well satisfied to stay quietly where I am. 
I would like to see Dickens, but I have no head fit 
to hear him ; and should prefer on the whole not 
to go this evening. Two mortal hours of listening 
is more than I can bear." 

He did not attend the reading, but he had an 
opportunity of meeting the author whose writings 
he had so thoroughly enjoyed. 

During the winter of 1867-68, Mr. Whittier 
was quite seriously ill with a fever. On the 18th 
of tTanuary, he was unable to write, but by the 
hand of an attendant he sent word to Mr. Fields 
that for four weeks he had been more seriously ill 
than he had ever been previously ; the slow fever 
seemed at that time to be nearly ended, leaving 
him without appetite, and very weak. On the 
28th, he wrote to Lucy Larcom : " At last I am 
allowed pen and ink (perhaps it would have been 
better if th^ prohibition had begun twenty years 
ago!) and can speak for myself. I have been 
very sick, but now am gaining every day. It will, 
however, be a good while before I shall get up 
even to my usual very moderate degree of health 
and strength. It is a marvel to me that I am as 
.well as I am. I long for dry land, and the snow 
looks dreary ! If I was well I should like it. I 
have done a great business in building castles in 
Spain. It is good and cheap amusement, and it is 
just about as well as if real timber and bricks 
were in use." ^ 

An illustrated edition of Whittier's poems was 


published in 1868, and it was while this was in 
preparation that the following letter, dated April 
2, was written to Mr. Fields. The proof-sheet it 
inclosed was of the poem "The Clear Vision," 
which was published in the May number of the 
" Atlantic " : "I send back the proof with defer- 
ence to thy suggestions. I think, as it now stands, 
the poem is good — considering who wrote it. I 
also send herewith a list of the ballads which I 
think best to print in the illustrated form. I have 
some question about including ' St. John.' I have 
taken ' The Wreck of Rivermouth,' only, from ' The 
Tent on the Beach.' The list will make quite 
too large a volume, as it is. What should be the 
title of the book ? The old name ^ Home Ballads ' 
perhaps would do. I think the pieces will admit 
of some excellent illustrations — better, it seems 
to me, than * Snow-Bound,' and indeed I regard 
the ballads as better than ' Snow-Bound,' — more 
variety and more picturesque. If thee think any 
other ballads would be better than these I have 
selected, let me know." 

On the 12th of July he wrote: "In printing 
the ballads for your illustrated volume, I wish you 
to make the following correction in ' Mary Gar- 
vin.' The lines — 

' And in the tales onr fathers told, the songs onr mothers sung, 
Tradition snowy-bearded leans on Romance ever young/ 

should read thus : — 

' And if, in tales onr fathers told, the songs onr mothers snng, 
Tradition wears a snowy beard, Romance is always young.' *' 

In June, 1868, Mr. Whittier said in a note to 


Mr. Fields : " I have written a poem, ' The Two 
Rabbins,' a fantasy of mine, which I like better 
than most things I have written of late." 

In September, Mrs. Fields urged him to read 
something from his writings before a Boston audi- 
ence, in aid of a charity, and she received this 
reply, dated September 9 : " Thee ask a miracle 
of me. Anything within the bounds of my possibil- 
ities I would do, as thee very well know, not only 
for the cause's sake, but for thine. Ask me to 
dance the polka, or walk a slack rope from the 
Park Street steeple to the State House dome — 
but don't ask me to stand up and read my rhymes 
to a Boston audience. I fancy I see myself doing 
it I And yet, how I wish I could I I am so sorry 
to have to say no, and disappoint thee. But it 
would be utterly impossible. I could not do it if 
I tried." 

A pleasant incident in Whittier's life during 
the year 1868 was the finding again of his old 
Hartford friend, Frederick A. P. Barnard, who, 
soon after the days they spent together in Con- 
necticut, went South and made a name for himself 
in science and in the cause of education. For 
thirty-five years the two friends never heard from 
each other except through their books, but when 
Barnard took the presidency of Columbia College, 
he wrote a long and affectionate letter to Whit- 
tier, which must have called out a reply equaling 
it in the warmth of its friendly interest. But the 
reply has not been found among the papers of 
President Barnard. 

The following letter to Celia Thaxter shows 


how he spent a part of the summer of 1868. It is 
dated 4th, 7th mo., 1868 : '' How long is it since 
I was complaining bitterly of cold weather, and 
setting my hearth aglow, in the leafy month of 
June? I am sitting linen-clad, and barefooted, 
by the open piazza door, trying to get a breath of 
the sweet air that just stirs the topmost spray of 
the lowest tree by the garden fence. On the 
opposite side of the road a boy is languidly dis- 
charging his patriotic duty to the Fourth by ex* 
ploding a cracker at long intervals. A bumble- 
bee, Emerson's ' animated torrid zone,' has found 
the sunshine a little too much even for him, and 
has left the roses to try the temperature of my 
room, and is buzzing and droning like a steam 
engine round my head as I write. The thermom- 
eter is at 100, with an upward tendency. I have 
been refrigerating myself with cool recollections 
of the mountains and the Shoals. . . . Since my 
return I have had company, a:nd have been to the 
* Laurel Party,' where I saw a great many peo- 

The laurel parties here alluded to, and which 
became one of the social institutions of Newbury- 
port, are thus described by Mrs. A. B. Bassett, of 
Newton, Mass., the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. 
William Ashby : — 

" My dear father and mother gave these parties 
annually for twenty-one years. They were very 
pleasant occasions, and became notable, as the 
years passed on, increasing in attendance, and in- 
cluding many distinguished visitors. The first 
was a small party of friends from out of town^ 


invited to visit the Laurel Grounds, in the perfec- 
tion of the laurel bloom. This proved so enjoy- 
able that it was repeated with additions, year 
after year. To many, old and young, it was a 
red-letter day in the year's calendar. Occurring 
the last of June, the weather, with but one excep- 
tion, was perfect. The arrival and meeting of old 
friends, the repast at our house in Newburyport, 
the sail up the Merrimac to the grove on its 
banks, the redolent pines, the beauty of the lau- 
rels, the appetizing lunch at noon followed by 
speeches and songs, made the hours pass quickly, 
and the time for the good-bys came all too soon. 
Interesting and distinguished visitors were often 
with us. Whittier was always present, when his 
health and other circumstances permitted, and fre- 
quently wrote poems for the occasion. Four of 
these may be found in his collected works, entitled 
' Our River,' * The Laurels,' ' Eevisited,' and 
* June on the Merrimac' " 

At one of these charming gatherings the guests, 
who had so many times enjoyed the generous hos- 
pitalities of Mr. and Mrs. Ashby, presented them 
an album containing their photographs and many 
beautiful tokens of their grateful appreciation ; 
upon the first page were these lines, by Whittier : — 

^ Deas Fbiexds : 

Accept this Book, whose pages hold 

The sun-traced shadows manifold 

Of friends, who Ve known you long and well 

At city hearth, in sylvan dell, 

Enjoying nnder roof and tree 

Your liberal hospitality ; 

Who, grateful, own that while yon gave 


YoQT life-long labor to tlie slave 
(A labor crowned with more success 
Than hope could dream, or wisdom guess). 
You kept warm hearts, and opened wide 
Your windows on life's sunny side. 
Take, then, the Volume with our thanks ; 
And long upon your river banks, 
When in azalea-gladdened woods 
The June sun swells the laurel budd, 
May we still meet, as we have met, 
And larger make to you our debt." 


8th mo., 1868. 

I am doing nothing at a great rate ; come and 

help me. I, too, have dreamed of the Shoals and 

the hills — but they must come to me. They must 

return my visits now. Bring thy painting ti*aps 

with thee ; perhaps we may find a flower in despite 

of the drought. . . . Everything seems returning 

to its original dust. We are eating our bushel 

instead of our " peck of dirt." We can't lay the 

dust of the streets for fear the water will turn to 

steam, and blow up the cart. 


8th mo., 1, 1868. 

By the way, thee ought to like that poem, for it 

would scarcely have been written but for thee. The 

thought of thee and thy sea stories and pictures 

prompted it, and when writing I was wondering 

whether thee would like it. As a Quaker, thee 

knows, I cannot have anything to do with the old 

heathen Nine, and so I have made thee serve my 

1 Mrs. Thaxter had written to Mr. Whittier to tell him of the 
interest taken in his ballad The Wreck of Rivermouthf which she 
had read to some of the guests at the Appledore. 


purpose as a sort of tenth Muse. I could not have 
a better. ... I send a bit of cardinal blossom 
from the foot of Po Hill. The river banks are 
scarlet with them. . . . We are drowned with 
rain ; but to-day the air is crystal clear, and the 
green earth is beautiful. My pear-trees are break- 
ing with heavy fruit, and the grapes are like those 
the Israelites found at Eschol. 


8tfi mo., 1868. 
I have had a constant dropping in of visitors this 
summer — mostly strangers — waifs from the sea- 
shore and mountains. The other day a plain- 
spoken neighbor of mine called on me for some 
matter of business, and when I told her there were 
two ladies in the parlor, waiting for me, she ex- 
claimed, " What ! more of them ! Was ever man 
so beset ? But it 's good enough for you. You 
should have married a woman long ago, and she 
would have kept all the rest off.".*. . I looked 
into the Suffrage Convention in Boston — a very 
dignified body. I see they put my name on the 
list of officers. But I am not willing now to con- 
nect myself with any organization. I am more than 
ready to welcome woman to the same rights which 
I enjoy. But with the abolition of slavery I felt 
myself released from all societies, save the one 
I was born in. When in Boston, I dined with 
Sumner, Emerson, and Whipple. Sumner seemed 
in good spirits, "jolly under creditable circum- 
stances," like Mark Tapley. I hope Grant will 
have the grace and good sense to put him at the 


head of the State Department. No man is so 
well fitted for it as he is. 

The inspiration of Mr. Whittier's charming 
poem " Among the Hills " came to him in the 
summer of 1867. It is a tender and romantic love- 
story in verse, idealizing New England farm life ; 
with a prelude which furnishes the darker shades 
needed to make the picture a faithful reproduction 
of rural scenes he undertook to portray. But this 
prelude did not appear in its present form when 
the ballad was originally published in the " Atlan- 
tic" for January, 1868, under the title of "The 
Wife : an Idyl of Bearcamp Water " ; neither 
was the ballad proper quite half as long as is now 
"Among the Hills." It is an interesting study 
to note the changes through which this beautiful 
poem passed on its way to its present completeness. 
This blossoming out occurred in the summer of 
1868. In its original form there were sixty-four 
lines in the Prelude, and it did not deal with the 
prosaic and disagreeable side of farm life, its shift- 
lessness and discomfort, as does the Prelude in its 
present form, which consists of one hundred and 
fifty-six lines. The passage which prophesies the 
gradual improvement in the conditions of farm life 
in New England, now being fulfilled, — 

'* Even this simple lay of mine 
May seem the hnrden of a prophecy, 
Finding its late fulfillment in a change 
Slow as the oak's growth, lifting manhood np 
Through broader culture, finer manners, love, 
And reverence, to the level of the hills,'' — 

read as follows : — 


" Even this little lay of mine 
May lift some burden from a heavy heart, 
Or make a light one lighter for its sake/' 

The whole tenor of the Prelude is changed, so 
as to make it a new poem, with a burden of rebuke 
to those who are " blind to the beauty every- 
where revealed " about them. The ballad proper 
enlarges upon the sweet story as originally told, 
making three hundred and forty-four lines instead 
of one hundred and sixty-eight, as at first. It is 
the landlady of the inn who teUs the story in the 
latest version, and the landlord in the earliest. Mr. 
Whittier's first thought was to call this poem " A 
Summer . Idyl," to offset his winter idyl, " Snow- 
Bound." But while he was reading the proofs of 
the book, he wrote to Fields : " It now occurs to 
me that it might be as well to omit the ' Summer 
Idyl ' in the title, as I may sometime give some- 
thing better entitled to the name." Its original 
sub-title, " An Idyl of Bearcamp Water," was also 
considered, but after the book was in press the 
name " Among the Hills " was decided upon. 
Comparatively few changes were made in the proof- 
sheets. In a letter to Fields, in October, Whittier 
refers to some suggestions for the improvement of 
the poem, and adds : " The reader will have to take 
something for granted. It is not to be expected 
that I should manage a scene of this kind like one 
who ' has been there and stayed all night.' I am 
not sure that I have bettered the verse beginning 
* Her air, her smile, her head's fine poise.' Glance 
at the two and choose." It was decided to retain 
the form of the original magazine version : — 


'* Her air, her smile, her motions, told 
Of womanly completeness." 

The next stanza to this is a new one, not found 
in the magazine, and there is a story about the first 
line of it, connecting it with the name of James G. 
Blaine. In every edition for about a dozen years 
it read as it was originally written by Whittier : 
" Not beautiful in curve and line." But upon his 
first visit to Amesbury, Mr. Blaine took up 
"Among the Hills," and suggested an improve- 
ment upon this line, which was at once adopted by 
the poet. It now reads : " Not fair alone in 
curve and line." 

There were ten new poems published with this 
ballad, including " The Meeting," " Hymn for the 
House of Worship at Georgetown," and " Lines 
on a Fly-Leaf." In returning the second proof of 
the work to Mr. Fields, November 1, 1868, Mr. 
Whittier wrote : " Thee will be sorry to see that 
I have made trouble for the printers by adding a 
few lines to the Prelude, which seem necessary to 
express my meaning clearly. I have done with 
it now, and give it over to its fate. In 'The 
Meeting ' I have heeded thy hints, except as re- 
spects the first line.^ I don't see as I can alter 
that. It might be 

' The elder folks shook hands at last.' 

Would that be better?" 

The poem '' On a Fly-Leaf," of which he said in 

1 The line as it was published in the magazine, February, 1868, 


** The elders shook their hands at last." 

The change here suggested was made. 


a note to Fields, "They are some verses I very 
much like myself," was suggested by a book then 
recently published from the pen of Gail Hamil- 
ton, entitled "A New Atmosphere." The felici- 
tous portrait of this brilliant essayist was so true 
to the life that it was instantly recognized by the 
public, and called out from her a witty protest in 

The other friends to whom Whittier refers in 
the poem " On a My-Leaf " are Lydia Maria Child, 
Grace Greenwood, Anna E. Dickinson, and Mrs. 

The " Hymn for the House of Worship at 
Georgetown" was first published in the "Inde- 
pendent," January 16, 1868, and that paper made 
the following comment upon the fact that he who 
gave the money for its erection had imposed a 
condition upon his gift. 

A Marred Memorial. — Mr. George Peabody, 
the banker, gave money for the erection of the 
Memorial Church in Georgetown, Mass., the town 
of his birth. The church was dedicated on the 8th 
of January, with interesting exercises, one of the 
striking features of which was the singing of the 
following hymn, written for the occasion by John 
G. Whittier. [Here follows the poem.] We 
venture to say that if the poet had known the con- 
ditions which the banker saw fit to impose on the 
Memorial Church, the poem would never have 
been written, and its author's name would never 
have been lent to the occasion. A correspondent 
of the " Independent " writes ; " Mr. Peabody 


says in his letter that the church shall never be 
used for any lectures, discussions of political sub- 
jects, or other matters inconsistent with the gospel. 
I do not give his precise words, but this is the 
substance. The church will be deeded to the 
society on the express condition that neither Lib- 
erty nor Temperance, nor any other subject of Re* 
form, shall ever be introduced into the pulpit." 

Mr. Whittier published a card in the Boston 
*' Transcript " of January 30, as follows : — 

" In writing the * Hymn for the Memorial Church 
at Georgetown,' the author, as his verses indicate, 
has sole reference to the tribute of a brother 
and sister to the memory of a departed mother, — 
a tribute which seemed and still seems to him, in 
itself considered, very beautifid and appropriate ; 
but he has since seen with surprise and sorrow a 
letter read at the dedication, imposing certain ex- 
traordinary restrictions upon the society which is 
to occupy the house. It is due to himself, as a 
simple act of justice, to say that had he known of 
the existence of that letter previously, the hymn 
would never have been written, nor his name in 
any way connected with the proceedings." 

The following letters to Hon. J. J. Currier refer 
to the naming of a ship in honor of the poet : — 

20th, 12tih mo., 1868. 
I shall be proud to have my name associated 
with a Merrimac-built vessel. I heartily thank 
the owners for this indication of their esteem, and 
hope they will have no occasion to regret their 


14tih, Ist mo., 1869. 
I am sorry that the state of my health will not 
permit me to avail myself of thy kind invitation 
to witness the launching this morning of the good 
ship in which I feel more than a nominal interest. 
I hope the Merrimac will give her a kindly wel- 
come to her proper element. If my prayers were 
but those of a righteous man, that " avail much," 
she should have none but prosperous voyages. In 
the course of my life, I have done something in 
the seafaring Hne, as well as in Spanish castles, 
but unfortunately my ships rarely come to port. 
It is a satisfaction, therefore, to feel that I have 
now an interest in a stancher craft, substantial as 
oaken ribs and copper bolts can make her. 


5ih mo., 6, 1869. 
When I got thy kind letter inviting me to thy 
home, I had just read the preface to thy last 
volume, and was greatly saddened by the thought 
that I was never again to travel with thee. And 
I thought of my sister, how she and I had followed 
thee in all thy wanderings, so happy and so grate- 
ful for the privilege. There must come an end to 
all things — and I am not surprised at thy final 
decision, but I am none the less sorry for it. Thy 
invitation finds me too ill for visiting. I must re- 
main quiet at home, avoiding exposure and excite- 
ment, as the sole condition of comparative freedom 
from suffering. And yet I long for the milder air 
of Chester County ; bu,t it costs too much now to 
get there* I saw thy description of Cedarcroft. 


. . . The place must be very diarming, and I am 
glad to see a poet with such fitting surroundings. 
Never fear that those who have followed thee thus 
far will not be with thee in other walks of literar 


5th mo., 18, 1860. 
I think I must be " growing in grace " to for- 
give thee, as I do, for letting thyself down to auto- 
graph-hnnting. However, I don't know as I can 
claim much merit, for the pleasure of hearing 
from thee more than counterbalances the annoyance 
of being hunted. I am sorry dear Mrs. F. is 
overworking herself, even in doing good, when 
simply being good, as she is, is a joy and a bene- 

*' Dear g^l, for whom all sweet flowers bloom, 
And happy birds their welcome bring, 
What can my evening lend thy mom ? 
Or my late autumn g^ve thy spring ? 

" I will not teach in mournful speech 

That joys are brief, and hopes are lies ; 
To life well spent, its sun's descent 
Is cloudless as its morning skies." 


8ih mo., 12, 1869. 
I am sorry my good cousins, the Cartlands, did 
not reach the island before we left. They are very 
dear to me. I wish thee could have known Moses 
A. Cartland ; there are so few like him now left 
in the world I I am almost tempted to run the 

1 Mrs. Thaxter had called for an autograph for a young friend 
of hers, which was sent with the verses. 


gauntlet of your great crowd on the island for the 
sake of seeing them, and bringing them so near to 
thee as to make thee know and love them as I do, 
for there are few better people in the world than 
Joseph and Gertrude Whittier Cartland. 

An illustrated edition of " Ballads of New Eng- 
land " was published in 1869, and Rev. Dr. J. W. 
Hanson made inquiry of Mr. Whittier in regard 
to the localities represented in the engravings. 
This is Mr. Whittier's reply, which will interest 
those who possess this edition of his ballads : " In 

* The Playmate ' the first picture, Samoth Hill, is 
about two miles from my residence. ' The lilies 
blossom in the pond ' is a sketch from Lake Atti- 
tash, or Kimball's Pond, in Amesbury. The pic- 
tures of * Cobbler Keezar's Vision ' are from the 
banks of the Powow River in Amesbury. ' Amy 
Wentworth ' is Portsmouth, and the harbor, and 
Kittery Point. ' The Countess,' Rocks Village, in 
Haverhill. ' Mary Garvin,' Saco River, near its 
mouth. ' The Rangers,' Casco Bay, near Portland. 

* Wreck of Rivermouth,' Hampton river and the 
Isles of Shoals. * The Changeling,' Hampton, 
Newbury, and Ipswich. I have thus briefly indi- 
cated the localities of the pictures, which I think 
are often better than the verses they illustrate." 

While this work was in the hands of the print- 
ers, Mr. Whittier wrote to Fields : " The proofs 
arrived safely. Looking over them, the beauty of 
the engravings almost makes me ashamed of the 
verses they illustrate. In those of ' Cobbler Kee- 
zar's Vision,' ' Wreck of Rivermouth,' * The Play- 


mate/ and ' The Countess,' especially, I recognize 
the scenery familiar from boyhood, and which I 
have endeavored to associate in the mind of the 
reader of my ballads with the characters and inci- 
dents of local traditions." 

In the " Atlantic " for December, 1869, W. D. 
Howells reviewed the illustrated edition of the 
"Ballads of New England," with the following 
complimentary reference to the illustrations de- 
signed by Harry Fenn : — 

" Of course many things escape the formalities of 
praise ; the light of the blooming apple-trees, the 
grace of the starry lilies that rock so light upon the 
ponds, the gloom and sorrow of the stormy seas, 
the wildness of the hemlock-bordered, rock-fretted 
forest streams, or their elm-bowered peace and sol- 
itude, the strength of the gnarled and twisted 
cedars, the brave cheerfulness of the lamps kin- 
dled in the lighthouse after the splendid sunset 
following the shipwrecking storm, the melancholy 
beauty of the harvest fields, — all these elusive 
charms are here, though they refuse to reappear in 
our phrase. Yet they are to be felt by all ; not 
less by the untechnical many who can never under^ 
stand the skill that made them perceptible, — but 
who can nevertheless meet both poet and artist in 
the common and finer air of sentiment and sym- 
pathy, — than by the critical few who without en^- 
joying them more will do a stricter justice to the 
artistic power in them. . . . Some of Mr. Fenn's 
pictures are made on a hint of the poet, and some 
are the refiection, in a sister art, of the poet's de- 
scriptions ; they are always faithful to his spirit. 

« IN SCHOOL-DA YS " 645 

and one believes that the author must have con* 
ceived just that lovely vision of the wayside orchard 
with its brier-grown wall, which the artist's pencil 
evokes from the lines in * Skipper Ireson's Side ' : 

' Sweetly along tiie Salem road 
Bloom of lilao and orchard showed,' 

and that in ^ The Countess ' he had in mind just 
that outlook from under the old bridge toward 
the hillside graveyard ; for they seem as much the 
image of his thought as that grand stretch of glad 
New England landscape, — farm, village, city, and 
sea, — in * Cobbler Keezar's Vision,' or that equally 
careful response to his words in ' Telling the Bees,' 
where, taking the poem and the picture together, 
it is hard to know who is most poet and who most 

Among the poems written in 1869 and early in 
1870, were " Howard at Atlanta," " In School- 
Days," " Marguerite," and " The Pageant." The 
origin of the first named poem was a letter from 
the headquarters of General O. O. Howard, at 
Atlanta, relating the incidents of the freedmen's 
school, as it is told in the poem. 

Some pictures were sent to Mr. Whittier by 
the publishers of " Our Young Folks," in the 
hope that he might fit verses to them. To Lucy 
Larcom, then editing this juvenile magazine, he 
wrote, under date of November 13, inclosing the 
poem, " In School-Days," the following note : " I 
could not make verses for the pictures, but I send 
thee herewith a bit which I am sure is childisA, if 
not childlike. Be honest with it, and if it seems 
too spooney for a grave Quaker like myself, don't 


compromise me by printing it. When I get a 
proof I may see something to mend or mar." He 
did find something to mend when the proof came. 
The manuscript of the poem lacked the two stanzas 
now nimibered as second and third. That which 
is now the fourth stanza was the second, and so on. 
No other change was made in that first proof, and 
none has since been made. Comparing the poem 
with the first draft found among Mr. Whittier's 
papers, we find that several verbal changes were 
made before it was sent for publication. The third 
line of the first stanza originally read : — 

^* Around the branching samaohs grew." 

In what is now the fourth stanza it was " the win- 
ter sun " instead of " a winter sun." The " tangled 
golden curls " in the fifth stanza were " drooping.^^ 
In the seventh stanza it was '*^ shy, watching him," 
instead of "as restlessly." In the next stanza, 
it was " small " and not " soft hand's light caress- 
ing." In the last stanza " life's hard school " was 
" life's grovm school." The first draft of the two 
stanzas added in the proof had the line " Its worn 
door sill betraying," instead of the present form, 
" Its door's worn sill betraying." All these changes 
will be recognized as decided improvements. The 
poem first appeared in " Our Young Folks," for 
January, 1870. Henry W. Longfellow, in a letter 
to Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, makes this comment 
upon the poem : " There is something more in 
education than is set down in the school-books. 
Whittier has touched this point very poetically in 
that little lyric of his called ' In School-Days.' " 

From the original co^ of his verses to Lafayette^ 182^- 


/^r^w /A* original draft of " /« 6*cA<?<7/ Z)ayj," 7569. 

"/iV SCHOOL-DAYS'' 547 

Many years ago, the little school-house com- 
memorated in " School-Days " was sold, and it was 
to be removed by its purchaser. It had hardly 
started on its journey when one of the wheels on 
which it was placed broke down and the building 
was left in the middle of the road, where it was 
burned by the boys. The master's desk, " scarred 
by raps official," is preserved to this day, but it 
does not date back to the school-days of Whittier. 
In November, 1882, when the place was visited 
by Mr. Whittier for the last time, the foundation 
stones of the building, and the door-stone, were 
still in place. But after that date, in repairing 
the road, gravel was taken from the bank where 
the school-house stood, and the last vestige of it 
has disappeared. It is thought that the little girl 
Mr. Whittier had in mind when he wrote the poem 
was Lydia Ayer, daughter of his nearest neighbor, 
who died at the age of fourteen. But Mr. Whit- 
tier himself never indicated that the poem was 
other than imaginative except by including it in 
his collected works under the head of " subjective 
and reminiscent." 

The sweet ballad " Marguerite " had the name 
of "The French Neutral" when it was written, 
which was nearly two years before it was published. 
The first draft did not quite satisfy the writer, and 
he laid it aside, after sending it to Mr. Fields, in 
November, 1869, with this comment : " What of 
this ? Is it good or not ? It seems to me to have 
real feeling in it. I hope I am not mistaken." 

On the 30th of the same month, he wrote, in re- 
ply to some criticism by Fields : " I was by no 
means satisfied with the ' French Neutral,' when I 


sent it, and bad misgivings about it afterwards. I 
sball let it lie by awhile, and then see if it can be 
made anything of. In the mean time, I am glad to 
have it again in my possession. The subject is a 
good one if treated rightly." 

In December, 1869, there was a statement pub- 
lished that Mr. Whittier had become so much dis- 
satisfied with the new ways developing in the So- 
ciety of Friends that he had given up attendance 
upon their meetings. To correct this misunder- 
standing he wrote the following letter, which was 
published in the " New Bedford Mercury " : — 

"I have found that the interest the best people 
of the different sects take in Quakerism is mainly 
confined to its realization of Practical Christianity, 
and I have noticed an ill-suppressed impatience 
and disgust when they find us [the Quakers] try- 
ing to win their favor by professing extreme Or- 
thodoxy, and hunting heresy. . . . From my youth 
up, whenever my health permitted, I have been a 
constant attendant of our meetings for religious 
worship.. TTiis is true, however, that after our 
meeting-houses were denied by the Yearly Meeting 
for anti-slavery purposes, ^ I did not feel it in my 
way for several years to attend the annual meet- 
ing at Newport. From a feeling of duty I pro- 
tested against that decision, but was given to un- 
derstand pretty distinctly that there was no 
* weight ' in my words. It was a hard day for 
reformers : some stifled their convictions ; others, 

^ In 1841, when Joseph Stuige was denied the use of the meet- 
ing-house at Newport, to deliver a lecture on emancipation in the 
West India Islands, a subject with which he was familiar from 
active participation in the work of securing the abolition of slav- 
ery in those islands. 


not adding patience to their faith, allowed them- 
selves to be worried out of the Society. Abolition- 
ists holding office in the Society were very gener- 
ally 'di:opped out,' and the ark of the church 
staggered on with no profane anti-slavery hands 
upon it. I left the Society to its course, and took 
mine, feeling quite sure the work would go on 
whether Friends went with it or not. I never 
despaired of a great change in the views of the So- 
ciety, but I knew I could do little to promote it. 
The pleas of youth and enthusiasm were not likely 
to be heeded by my elders, who, in common with 
the great majority of all sects, failed to compre- 
hend the breadth and scope of a great Providential 
movement in God's controversy with oppression." 

In November, 1870, he sent " Marguerite " to 
Celia Thaxter, asking her to criticise the ballad ; 
^^ find all the faults in it and make a note of them." 
On the same day he sent the ballad to Mrs. Fields 
with the following note : " Some time ago I sent 
the first draft of this little ballad to J. T. F., and 
he, rightly considering its incompleteness, returned 
it. I have just been reconstructing it, and I send 
it, in the hope that it is better for my tinkering. 
You know that one thousand of the Acadians were 
distributed among the towns of Massachusetts, 
where they were mostly treated as paupers. I am 
not sure that I have succeeded in my attempt to 
recall the too probable scenes of a century ago. 
Read it, and let thee or J. T. F. tell me what it 
amounts to." 

It was then accepted for the " Atlantic," and 
published in the number for March, 1871. 

" The Pageant " was written for an illustrated 


work that was projected for the holiday season of 
1870. The plan was to collect winter pieces from 
Longfellow, Emerson, Bryant, Lowell, and Whit- 
tier, and bind them together in one volume, with 
suitable engravings. There was some misunder- 
standing about the time when the copy would be 
needed, and Fields wrote to hurry up Mr. Whit- 
tier's contribution. He replied, February 24, 
1870, sending the MS. of " The Pageant," which 
was the only original poem in the collection, had the 
place of honor, and was beautifully illustrated by 
Harry Fenn : — 

" I did not know that It was necessary to have 
the winter piece so soon, or I should have given 
the whole thing up at once, as I am in no con- 
dition of health to write at all. Since getting thy 
line I have been trying, however, to do my part of 
the book, and send to-day the result. I think it is 
too long, but could not help it. When in print I 
may be able to doctor it where it needs. It has 
cost me harder work than I would do again for 
any consideration, and has cost me a miserablo 
headache and general out-of-sortness. Whether 
it is good or not, I am not able even to guess. It 
seems to me, however, a pretty accurate description 
of what I have seen. What will you call the 
book? How would * Winter and its Poets' do? 
Or this? ' Winter : Ten Poems by H. W. Long- 
fellow, R.' W. Emerspn, Wm. C. Bryant, James 
R. LoweU, and John G. Whittier. Illustrated.' 
Let me know what thee think of the verses when 
convenient. The poem will be diffictdt to iSiiiB- 
trate. I know of no one who could do it, however, 
so well as Harry Fenn." 




The wave of popularity which lifted Whittier 
into prosperity never subsided, and henceforth he 
was free from pecuniary anxiety. The great stress 
of public affairs also had been removed, and 
though he never relaxed his great interest and 
never was without a part in the movements, politi- 
cal, philanthropic, and religious, which stirred so- 
ciety during the remainder of his life, his sensi- 
tive health forbade ardent participation, and there 
was no one great and abiding concern like the anti- 
slavery struggle to force him into activity. The 
tranquillity of the last third of his life was in 
marked contrast externally with the tumultuous 
middle period, but it was, after all, the outward 
sign of his inward peace. 

It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that 
gentleness was a necessity of his nature ; it was 
in reality the result of resolute self-control, and 
the habitual government of a tempestuous spirit. 
He was quick and nervous in movement, but never 
otherwise than dignified and graceful. In conver- 
sation he spoke slowly and with precision, hesitat- 
ing occasionally without the slightest nervousness 
for the word he wanted. This must have been the 


result of his habit of self-restraint, which became 
his second nature. He religiously curbed his 
tongue, and said of himself that he was born with- 
out an atom of patience in his composition, but 
that he had tried to manufacture it as needed. To 
a dear friend of many years, with whom he had a 
misunderstanding that led to some sharp words, he 
wrote this characteristic explanation and apology : 
" Thee are right in thinking that I don't know 
much about what was said on the evening thee 
refer to. ... If I remember rightly thee was un- 
reasonably persistent in thy contention. When 
one is unreasonable himself, he is in no mood for 
tolerating the same thing in others. I dare say 
that I was a fool, but that is no reason thee should 
make thyself one, by dwelling on if. Lay it all to 
dyspepsia, Ben Butler, or anything else than in- 
tentional wrong on the part of thy old friend. We 
have known each other too long, and done each 
other too many kind offices, to let it disturb us." 

The illness constantly wearing upon Mr. Whit- 
tier was believed by the physicians whom he con- 
sulted to be an affection of the heart, and he was 
warned to be exceedingly careful to avoid excite- 
ment.^ The pain in the region of the heart was 
often severe. His headaches, more constant and 
nearly as painful, were more easily borne, as they 
did not seem dangerous. These attended him all 
his life, and accompanied every mental exertion. 
He could not write or read continuously for half 

^ During his residence in Philadelphia a noted physician exam- 
ined him, and reported that there was no immediate cause for 
anxiety, — with care he might live to be fifty years of age. 


an hour, in middle or later life, without severe pain 
in the head. This debarred him from lectures, re- 
ceptions, and public dinners, unless an opportunity 
was given him to retire without notice, and with- 
out causing disturbance. A continuous mental 
strain of two hours was intolerable to him. This 
accounted for his frequent and adroitly managed 
disappearances during such festivities as those of 
his birthdays. This gave him a reputation for 
shyness that did not really belong to him. He 
was a man to enjoy society, and would have done 
his full part of the talking and listening in any 
company, but for the dread of the inevitable 
penalty. The more highly prized and interesting 
the guest he was entertaining, the greater the 
necessity of getting an occasional brief respite 
from his conversation. His intimate friends un- 
derstood this, and would leave him to himself, at 
short intervals, and it was interesting to see the 
ingenuity with which he would escape from a bore, 
who did not appreciate or consider his infirmity. 
The trouble with his heart became less annoying 
in later years than in middle life. All his life he 
was seriously affected by his inability to secure 
sleep when it was most needed. When he met 
Charles Dickens, he told him that he read " Pick- 
wick " to go to sleep by, and it was literally true. 
This kind of literature was improved by him as a 
soporific, because it was so thoroughly enjoyed that 
it banished the thoughts that kept him awake. 
The capacity for sleeping, he was wont to say, is 
the secret of the Englishman's power ; as Emerson 
says, he puts a solid bar of sleep between two days. 


He once said, " I inherited from my parents a 
nervous headache, and on account of it have never 
been able to do all I wished to do. [His inter- 
locutor referred to the infirmities of St. Paul.] 
Paul's infirmities could not have been in his head, 
I think. He must have had a tough head ; his 
writings do not indicate a weakness there. I 
have sometimes wondered, though it was not to be, 
of course, what the Christian Church would have 
become without Paul. It does not seem as if it 
would ever have gotten beyond the Jews." 

Mr. Whittier had the misfortune to be color- 
blind, in respect to the shades of red and green. 
But he thought he had an unusual appreciation of 
the yellows, which fully compensated him for this 
defect. He saw no difference in color between a 
red apple and the leaves of the tree upon which it 
was growing. It was only the white or yellow rose 
that had for him any beauty except of form. He 
thought he enjoyed the splendors of an autumn 
landscape in a wooded country as much as the 
ordinary observer, especially if there was a fair 
admixture of yellow foliage. When he brought 
home bouquets of leaves, it was noticeable that the 
yellow greatly predominated. Perhaps his prefer- 
ence for the goldenrod as the national flower was 
partly due to it3 color. His mother discovered 
this optical defect when, a little boy, he was pick- 
ing wild strawberries. He could see no difference 
between the color of the berry and the leaf. " I 
have always thought the rainbow 'beautiful^'* he 
once said with an amused smile, " but they tell me 
I have never seen it. Its only color to me is yel- 


low." A reddish brown book was handed him, on 
the cover of which were lines of bright scarlet, and 
he was asked to tell the colors as he saw them. 
He thought the book was a dark yellow, and the 
scarlet lines stood out to him as bright yellow. Dr. 
Jeffries, an authority in color-blindness, says that 
Mr. Whittier was a typical specimen of the infirm- 
ity, and further, that the little woodcut portrait 
of him, published in Houghton, Mifflin & Co.'s 
book catalogue, is the best picture he has ever seen 
of the characteristic look of the color-blind. 

After he had passed middle life, his right ear 
lost its sensitiveness, and he became partially 
deaf. A severe cold would occasionally make it 
difficult for him to understand what was said by 
voices which were not familiar to him. But a 
familiar voice did not need to be much raised 
above its natural pitch in conversation. This 
dullness of hearing was not considered by him an 
unmixed evil, as in many ways it shielded him 
from annoyance. Sometimes his deafness afforded 
excuse for misunderstanding, or not replying to 
questions which he did not care to answer. Even 
when he had comparatively good hearing, he was 
not a good listener to a prolonged address. This 
antipathy to long readings is graphically set forth 
in his poem " The Demon of the Study." He 
once said that he did not care to listen to a dis- 
course from any one but St. Paul ; and after one 
hour of even his preaching he should want an op- 
portunity to leave. 

Mr. Whittier's laugh was peculiar. He uttered 
no sound, but his face and gestures showed his 


^ amusement most expressively. If mueli moved, 
he beut forward, and smote his knee. Of his 
smile a writer says: "It is one of the sweetest 
smiles ever seen on the face of a man. It seems 
almost to be made of veritable lights and shadows. 
In repose his face is almost stern, but when any- 
thing amuses him you see a light dance for an 
instant in his eyes, and then seem slowly to ex- 
pand over his face as a circling wave expands 
upon the surface of a placid pool. There is an 
appreciable time between the smile's appearance 
in his eyes and the slow parting of his lips, and 
there is something remarkably gentle in it all. 
He smiles frequently too, for he is always awake 
to the humorous side of things, and you cannot 
entertain him in any way more certainly than by 
telling him bright, witty stories. He catches the 
point instantly and eagerly. But the wit must be 
of a quiet order, — no roystering for him ! " 

A marked trait in the character of Mr. Whit- 
tier was the warmth and steadiness of his affection 
for his friends, and his tender solicitude for their 
health and comfort. His many years of anxious 
care for his invalid mother and sister had the 
effect to make him observant of symptoms of ill- 
ness among his relatives and friends. The inva- 
lidism of people with whom he was unacquainted, 
when it came under his notice, touched his heart, 
and he was anxious to be helpful to them in word 
and deed. The appeals for aid which came to 
him in his letters from strangers were sure of re- 
sponse if illness was found in combination with 


The following incident illustrates Mr. Whit- 
tier's kindness and consideration for those em- 
ployed by him as servants. His washerwoman, 
Mrs. Choate, by industry and thrift had been en- 
abled to build for her family a comfortable house. 
When it was ready for occupancy, there was a 
house-warming attended by all the neighbors, who 
brought substantial tokens of their good will, in- 
cluding all the furniture needed in her new parlor. 
Mr. Whittier's hand was to be seen in the whole 
movement ; he was present at the festivity, and 
made a little speech congratulating Mrs. Choate 
upon her well-deserved success in life, and said he 
would read a piece of machine poetry which had 
been intrusted to him for the occasion. These are 
the lines, which were of course of his own compo- 
sition : — 

" Of rights and of wrongs 
Let the feminine tongues 

Talk on — none forbid it. 
Our hostess best knew 
What her hands found to do, 

Asked no questions, but did it. 

** Here the lesson of work, 
Which so many folks shirk, 

Is so plain all may learn it ; 
Each brick in this dwelling, 
Each timber is telling, 

If you want a home, babn it. 

" The question of labor 
Is solved by our neighbor, 

The old riddle guessed out : 
The wisdom sore needed, 
The truth long unheeded. 

Her flat-iron 's pressed out I 


" Thanks, then, to Kate Ghoate I 
Let the idle take note 

What their fingers were made for ; 
She, oheerfnl and jolly, 
Worked on late and early. 

And bought — what she paid for t 

" Never vainly repining, 
Nor begg^g, nor whining ; 

The morning-star twinkles 
On no heart that 's lighter 
As she makes the world whiter 

And smooths out its wrinkles* 

** So, long life to Kate I 
May her heirs have to wait 

Till they 're gray in attendance ; 
And her flat-iron press on, 
Still teaching its lesson 

Of brave independence I *' 

Whenever any neighbor died who had showed 
marked characteristics and singular individuality, 
no matter what his station in life, Mr. Whittier 
used to send his estimate of him to the village 
paper. Here is a small portion of his notice of 
a poor and aged Englishman, James Standring, 
who died in December, 1869 : — 

"He was a man not to be overlooked or ig- 
nored in any community. He was always com- 
paratively a poor man, earning his daily bread by 
constant toil; he had little or no learning, and 
there was nothing conciliatory or prepossessing in 
his appearance or manners. Sturdily indepen- 
dent, he exercised the fullest freedom of speech ; 
flattered nobody; and would have burned like a 
candle for opinion's sake had it been necessary. 
He had no disguise or reticence — his few faults 


and his many virtues were open as the day. 
His distinguishing trait, that which made him a 
marked man in a community which has deservedly 
a reputation for liberality, was his abounding gen- 
erosity. None who was poor, none who suffered 
whether providentially or from his own folly and 
crime, ever appealed to him in vain. After ex- 
hausting his own slender means, he had no hesita- 
tion in levying contributions upon his neighbors. 
He took the first man he met by the button, told 
the story of the want and suffering he had wit- 
nessed, and if he did not obtain assistance, he at 
least made refusal impossible without an uneasy 
conscience, and a sense of meanness on the part of 
the refuser." 

There were several aged and indigent people in 
Amesbury over whom Mr. Whittier exercised a 
watchful care, helping with tender sympathy and 
judicious advice, and, when there was need, with 
money, tendered in a most delicate way. He 
called upon these friends more regularly than 
upon any others in the village, and even in hiy 
later years, when his infirmities were a sufficient 
excuse for not making his usual calls, he would 
not neglect these dependent neighbors. For one 
of them, who died a few years ago at the age of 
ninety-five, he planned a surprise party in 1870, 
and gave this account of it in a letter to his 
niece, who was then teaching a school for f reed- 
men in Charleston, S. C. : — 

"We had a grand surprise party at Uncle 

*8, — fifty present. H. C. and J. H. spoke, 

and J, W. C. presented in behalf of the company 


a purse of fl30. Several persons sent money, 
and messages, which I read on the occasion, and I 
took the liberty to put in some money and good 
wishes from thee, as I knew thee would like to do 

it. Don't let Uncle S know that thee did 

not know of it, as I should have written thee if 
there had been time. It was a very lively and 
merry occasion." 

The village paper said of this occasion: "A 
vote of thanks was passed to Mr. Whittier as the 
originator of the party, but that gentleman begged 
leave to disclaim all merit in the matter : — it was 
not his nor anybody's doing, — it grew out of its 
own fitness, — it made itself and came there of its 
own accord. 'Auld Lang Syne' was sung, and the 
party left at an early hour. The occasion will 
long be remembered as one of unusual social 
interest and enjoyment." 

Among Mr. Whittier's neighbors was an aged 
pair, a brother and sister, whose simple, old-fash- 
ioned ways and quaint conversation he much en- 
joyed. He thought they worked harder than was 
necessary, as the infirmities of age fell upon them, 
for they had accumulated a competency, and on 
one occasion he suggested that they leave for 
younger hands some of the labor to which they 
had been accustomed. But the sister said, " We 
must lay by something for our last sickness, and 
have money enough left to bury us." Mr. Whit- 
tier replied, "Did thee ever know any one to 
stick by the way for want of funds ? " 

There were rumors in the village that an aged 
citizen was soon to be married, and that the matter 


was to be kept secret until after the ceremony. 
Nobody could get at the truth of the rumor, how- 
ever. One evening he called at Mr. Whittier's 
while a merry party in the " garden room " were 
discussing the affair. As Mr. Whittier started to 
meet his guest, he said to the party he was leaving, 
" I will find out about it." A committee was ap- 
pointed to stand by the parlor door and ascertain 
how he would broach the subject. He began with 
the remark, "I hear thee are going to Boston," 
and followed it up with, " Washington would be a 
good place for a trip in the winter." This leading 
no whither, he finally ventured to remark, " I hear 
thee are going to do the best thing for thyself." 
This time he was successful, and his aged friend 
received his hearty congratulations. 

Rev. S. H. Emery, of Quincy, 111., a friend of 
Whittier's childhood, visited him in 1868, and 
together they recalled the scenes of their youth. 
Whittier was touched by the allusions of his friend 
,to his Western home, where a wife, children, and 
a grandchild, Constance, awaited his return. Be- 
ing asked for his autograpji, he gave these lines : — 

** The years that since we met have flown 
Leave as they found me, still alone : 
No wife, nor child, nor g^randohild dear, 
Are mine the heart of age to cheer. 
More favored thou, with hair less gray 
Than mine, canst let thy fancy stray 
To where thy little Constance sees 
The prairie ripple in the hreeze ; 
For one like her to lisp thy name 
Is better than the voice of fame." 

For several years only short notes passed be- 


tween Senator Sumner and the invalid poet. On 
the 6th of March, 1870, Mr. Sumner wrote from 
the Senate Chamber : — 

My Dear Whittieb, — The inclosed verses by 
you I find in a commonplace book of mine ; ^ but 
not in any collection of your poems. As I wish to 
use them, will you kindly tell me where I shall find 
them ? When were they written? Are they alone, 
or was there a context ? Perhaps they were in an 
album. I hope you will let me know soon. Are 
they correct in form ? I ask this, because the 
printers sometimes make a text unlike the original. 
I wish you could have seen Bevels hold up his hand 
and enter upon his senatorship. 

Whittier's reply was as follows: "It is good 
to see thy handwriting once more. The lines 
quoted are mine. I think they were originally 
written in an album or commonplace book. I 
think they are correct in form. That swearing-in 
of Bevels must have been a sight compensating 
for much of the labor, trial, and obloquy which 
thee and other pioneers in the march of liberty 
have endured. I was with you in spirit. I read 
all thy words. I was especially delighted with 
thy remarks on the death of Lincoln and Fessen- 
den. Viewed in connection with the circumstances, 

* The lines inclcNsed were, — 

" Believe me still, as I hare ever been. 
The steadfast lover of my fellow-men ; 
My weakness, love of holy liberty ; 
My crime, the wish that all mankind were free t 
Free, not by blood ; redeemed, but not by crime ; 
Each fetter broken, but in Ood's own time." 



I know of nothing finer, truer, and more magnani- 
mous. It is such things that bring thee near to 
the hearts of the people. . . . Senator Wilson is 
doing well with his papers in the ' Independent.' 
I think he will make a valuable and readable his- 
tory of the great struggle in which he has borne so 
honorable a part. God bless thee always 1 " 


3d mo., 1870. 

Pray give lihe " Atlantic " 
A brief unpedantic 
Review of Miss Phelps' book, 
Wbich teaches and helps folk 
To deal with the offenders 
In love which surrenders 
All pride unforgiving, 
The lost one receiving 
With truthful believing 
That she like all others. 
Our sisters and brothers, 
Is only a sinner 
Whom God's love within her 
Can change to the whiteness 
Of heaven's own brightness. 
For who shall see tarnish 
If He sweep and garnish ? 
When He is the cleanser 
Shall we dare to censure ? 
Say to Fields, if he ask of it, 
I can't take the task of it. 

P. S. — For myself, if I 'm able, 
And half comfortable, 
I shall run for the seashore 
To some place as before, 
Where blunt we at least find 
The teeth of the East wind, 
And spring does not tarry 
As it does at Amesbury ; 
But where it will be to 
I cannot yet see to. 



3d ma, 5, 1870. 
I am glad to learn that thee are making thyself 
happy in making others so. Probably there is no 
other way. My happiness has pretty much come 
in that manner, and my unhappiness from the 
selfish pursuit of enjoyment to the neglect of duty. 
. . . The other evening I went into a confec- 
tioner's shop in Amesbury, and the man and his 
wife immediately questioned me as to the author 
of the articles on the Shoals. They said they had 
lived down East among the islands on the Maine 
coast, and they had never seen the sky and sea 
and the seafaring people so well described. 
" Why," said the man, " they made me feel as if I 
was a boy again, rocking in my boat, or climbing 
the ,bluffs of Orr's Island and Matinicus." His 
wife said she had always felt there was poetry in 
that island life, but nobody before had written it 
out. So I told them something about thee, to their 
great delight. . . . How many good and nice peo- 
ple there are in the world 1 People too of whom 
we know nothing, and who know nothing of us. 


6th mo., 13, 1870. 
I know thee must be greatly pained by the sad 
news of the death of Charles Dickens. Is it possi- 
ble that that wonderful creative life is now but a 
memory ? That that marvelous hand has forever 
lost its cunning ? So they pass away — the great 
and good ones, who made themselves so dear and 
necessary to us ! Where are they ? What are they ? 


Shall we who are following them into the darkness 
and silence ever meet them again ? Thee and thy 
husband, who haye had the privilege of calling him 
friend, have at least the satisfaction of knowing 
that his earthly life was made happier by your 
kindness and love. What a brief and sad life this 
of ours would be, if it did not include the possibil- 
ities of a love which takes hold of eternity ! 

In the spring of 1870, Mr. Whittier spent some 
weeks in Brooklyn and New York, as the guest of 
his friend. Colonel Julian Allen, a brave Pole, who 
commanded a New York regiment in our civil 
war, and whose wife was a relative of Mr. Whit- 
tier's. Upon his return, on the 10th of June, he 
wrote to Mrs. Thaxter : — 

" I ought to have told thee before how welcome 
were thy letters, but I have been in Babylon for 
some weeks, and have had to see and talk to so 
many people that I am very weary, and have not 
yet been able to attend to my letters. I must teU 
thee that many people speak of thy ' Shoals ' 
paper in strong terms of admiration, poor Alice 
Gary — who is very ill ^ — and her sister, among 
others. One day when I sat by her bedside, 
Horace Greeley came in. He spoke of Boston 
writers and magazines, and then said in his slow 
Yankee drawl : ' Well, the best prose writing I 
have seen for a long time is Mrs. Thaxter's " Isles 
of Shoals " in the " Atlantic." Her pen-pictures 

1 She died February 12, 1871. This visit is referred to in the 
poem The Singer , in which Horace Greeley is called *' our later 


are wonderfully well done.' Now tliat I call 
praise worth having." 


7th mo., 28, 1870. 
Be thankful for sea-surrounded Appledore! 
We are literally baking alive here. ... I spent 
the night like a wandering ghost, going from room 
to room, trying sofa and floors, and getting no 
sleep out of them. We have had a splendid day- 
break, but there is now a fierce menace of heat, 
and not " tenderly the haughty day fills its blue 
urn with fire." Over Po Hill the sky looks cool 
and hard, refreshing to eye and spirit, and the two 
great rustic baskets full of bloom and greenery, 
with their fresh luxuriance, make a pleasant con- 
trast to the hot street and the dusty trees and 
shrubbery in the front yard. My little room is 
quiet enough. Lizzie is at Seabrook, and I am all 
alone. The sweet calm face of the pagan philoso- 
pher and emperor, Marcus Antoninus, looks down 
upon me on one hand, and on the other the bold, 
generous, and humane countenance of the Chris- 
tian man of action, Henry Ward Beecher ; and I 
sit between them as a sort of compromise. It is 
very still — the leaves move softly without sound ; 
I can hear my own thoughts. . . . How I thank 
thee for thy letter just received, bringing me the 
sweet breath of wild rose and mignonette. It is as 
if the cool sea air of the islands blew over this 
feverish inland, and I bathe my hot, aching brow 
for a moment in the dream of a milder atmosphere. 
Pilgrims come and go, as usual, and now and then 


old friends. Mrs. Pitman spent most of two days 
with me, and Lucy Larcom one. An old bachelor 
friend came to tell me of his newly resumed hopes 
of matrimony. It was very droll. 


Ambsbubt, 8th mo., 1870. 
I wish thee could see my pears and apples. The 
trees are bowed to earth with fruit. I wish I 
could send some of our wild flowers. The ground- 
nut vine especially, with its rare sweet fragrance ; 
suggestive of, but more delicate than the helio- 
trope. It seems to me that as I grow older these 
beautiful works of God are more dear to me. 
Perhaps a sense of insecurity in their possession — 
the transitoriness of all that our senses take cog- 
nizance of — intensates the love I feel for them. 
Well, I hope the Hereafter will not lack some- 
thing to remind us of the beautiful earth-life — 
beautiful despite its sin and sorrow. 


22d 9th mo., 1870. 
I thank thee for thy offer of the Florida cot- 
tage, but I am quite unable to take advantage of 
it. I must live if I can, and die if I must, in Yan- 
kee land. . . . The foundations seem breaking up. 
I only hope that if the planks and stagings of hu- 
man device give way, we shall find the Eternal 
Rock beneath. We can do without Bible or 
church ; we cannot do without God ; and of Him 
we are sure. All that science and criticism can 
urge cannot shake the self-evident truth that He 


asks me to be trae, just, merciful, and loving, and 
because He asks me to be so, I know tbat He is 
Himself what He requires of me. 

We first hear of the poem "Miriam" in the 
summer of 1870, when Whittier sent the manu- 
script of it to Fields with this note: "I send 
thee a long poem, Oriental, and purely fiction, 
though consistent with the character of Akba and 
his Christian wife. I hope thee and dear Mrs. F. 
will like it. Pray let me hear from you about 
it." Fields recommended its publication with other 
poems, in a volume to be issued at once. Mr. 
Whittier made a list of the poems to accompany 
it, with a computation of the number of pages 
each would fill, and sent it with this note : " I 
think this is all (although I am not quite sure) 
and that I have computed the"number of pages cor- 
rectly. But until I see ' Miriam ' again, amended 
and improved, I cannot decide about a new vol- 
ume. What's the use of it, anyhow? 'Of the 
making of many books ' there ought to be an end 
some time. Let me see ' Miriam ' in type, and if 
she finds favor in my eyes, I will let thee know as 
soon as possible." 

In October he wrote : " I send a dedication to 
my old friend, Fred Barnard, LL. D., President of 
Columbia College, New York, who used to rhyme 
with me during my sojourn at Hartford, nearly 
forty years ago. I think it will please him. . . . 
Is it necessary to have a full-page illustration for 
my little book? I rather shrink from seeing a 
pretty woman's face on my sober page, as thee 
suggested. It would be quite out of keeping." 


Fields suggested a change in the second line of 
the dedication: "Under the Charter Oak, our 
horoscope," which grated on his ear, but Whittier 
replied to this : " I do not see how I can make a 
change in the second line. I can't destroy the 
Charter Oak before its time. It 's lucky that 
other folks' ears are not so sensitive as thine ; and 
yet I feel the force of thy suggestion." 

In several letters written about 1870, Mr. Whit- 
tier spoke of an intended volume with the title of 
"Indian Summer." At one time he was about 
ready to have it announced as forthcoming, but at 
the last moment wrote to his publishers to let the 
matter drop. It was probably to be a collection 
of poems, to be named for one he never completed, 
unless perhaps " St. Martin's Summer " was then 
in his mind. 

In 1870, Lewis Tappan was engaged in prepar- 
ing the memorial of his philanthropic brother, 
Arthur Tappan, and called upon Mr. Whittier for 
some word in regard to his old friend. He sent 
these lines (from his poem on Daniel Neall), which 
were printed on the title-page of the work : — 

" His daily life, far better understood 
In deeds than words, was simply doing good ; 
So calm, so constant was his rectitude 
That by his loss alone we know his worth, 
And feel how true a man has walked with us on earth.". 

In a note which accompanied the lines, written in 
Brooklyn, May 2, 1870, he says : " It seems to me 
that this will weU express the character of thy ex- 
cellent brother. I shall be glad to have my name 
in this way associated with his and thy own. . . . 


My pamphlet on 'Justice and Expediency' was 
published in the early summer of 1833. I printed 
only five hundred copies. I sent one to thy bro- 
ther and soon received from him a very kind 
letter. He had five thousand copies printed at his 
expense. In the very early days of the anti-slav- 
ery cause thy brother's sympathy and liberality 
were the main dependence of the zealous but poor 
young men who engaged in it. We all remember 
him with gratitude. When Garrison was impris- 
oned, I appealed to Henry Clay to use his influence 
with his Baltimore friends in his behalf, and he 
wrote me that he intended to have assisted him 
through Niles of the 'Register,' but had been 
anticipated by Mr. Tappan. I shall look for the 
book with much interest." 


2d mo., 16, 1871. 
Without the gift of clairvoyance how was I to 
know thy whereabouts? I trusted to my im- 
pressions, as a Quaker should, — or rather, as I 
wanted to see thee in Amesbury, " the wish was 
father to the thought," — that thee was at home. 
Had thee been, I dare say thee wouldn't have 
heeded my invitation, and so it is just as well thee 
are in Washington enjoying thyself. 

*' If she be not here for me, 
What care I where she he ? " 

I am a little fearful that after all this in- 
timacy with Excellencies and Honorables, and 
Mrs. Judge This or General That, thee will set 
thyself quite above thy plebeian friends at home. 


I am not sure what effect it would have on me. 
But the last time I was in Boston, like Bums I 
" dinnered wi' a lord," and yet on leaving his lord- 
ship if I had met thee in the street I think I should 
have civilly nodded at least. I will lend thee all 
the aid I can in the matter of curtains and paint, 
but as I don't know red from green, I suspect 
my judgment in such nice matters. When thee 
returns, come up and see my improvements. I 
have finished off a sky-parlor in the attic very 
cosily, and I have a new carpet on the parlor, and 
divers other changes for worse or better; and I 
have lots of nice books and pictures — and my own 
hearty welcome for thee. My dear old friend of 
long time, Alice Gary, is dead — and I am sorry 
and glad — glad for her sake. Ah me! at the 
autumn time of threescore how the leaves of life 
fall around one I 

I see in the " Independent " that a Western par- 
soness made an attempt to interview thee, in the 
cars. It seems that she had it all to herself, as 
she got never a word from thee, only "Say on, 
dear ! " Thee should be thankful that she did n't 
put words in thy mouth as they often do in mine, 
and so make me responsible for their own plati- 
tudes. I am hoping against hope to hear of the 
" Tennessee." Dr. Howe and Fred Douglass are 
worth more to the United States than a dozen St. 
Domingoes. Tell Mr. Blaine I don't envy him 
his position as keeper of the great Washington 
menagerie — I take it the "specimen" we have 
sent him from our District ^ don't need " stirring 
up " to make him show himself I 

^ General Butler. 


On the 21st of March, 1871, Whittier wrote to 
Sumner : ^' It really seems to me that Congress 
should not leave Washington without doing some- 
thing to afford protection to the Union men of the 
South from Ku Klux outrages. I think, too, it 
would be best now to make amnesty complete, for 
the old ofl&cers, and thus take away a pretext for 
a disturbance, the sufferings of which fall upon the 
colored people. Having gone so far in our leniency, 
it seems to me useless to make any exceptions. 
Let us begin anew, and punish if need be all new 
offenses, but waive the past. Our real difficulty 
at the present time is that we have to deal with 
States. Had thy advice prevailed we should have 
been spared a vast amount of trouble.*' 


4th mo., 10, 1871. 

I am sorry to hear of your leaving Pennsylvania, 
but I am not sure but that it will be better. I feel 
myself the need of coming into nearer relations to 
the great life of our centres of civilization and 
thought, and if I were younger and stronger I 
should certainly spend my winters in Boston. 


June 1, 1871. 

The Scripture teacheth us at all times to be 
willing to give up our own plans and adopt those 
of other people at a moment's notice. Now I don't 
quite dare go over to Amesbury Saturday, because 
I have so many artificers in carpets, curtains, paint- 
pots, white pines, dead hemlocks and other small 


deer, that I am afraid to leave them ; but what I 
do want — what I have set my heart on — what I 
will not be refused is to have you come over to 
Ashantee and spend Sunday with me. You have 
no excuse for not coming, because you show by 
asking me that you have no engagement, and if 
you will come, I will certainly go over in a week 
or two and make you a visit — if you want me to. 


7th 6th mo., 1871. 
I was sorry not to see thee at Amesbury, and 
should have been only too glad to have spent 
First day with thee in the midst of thy palatial 
splendors, but the terrible heat of Seventh day 
was too much for me. I wonder what thee are 
doing in the way of building and gardening. I 
thought thy place all complete when I last saw it. 
I am afraid it will be so grand and pleasant that 
thee will have no disposition to visit my humble 
domicile. I want to go to Newport, to the Yearly 
Meeting, mainly on Lizzie's account, as she has 
never been there. If I am able, we shall go next 
Seventh day. I wonder whether thee really ex- 
pected me or wished me to come last week. I was 
not sure whether it was earnest or play of words. 
But if I had been able, I think I should have 
taken thee at thy word. I have many things to 
talk about, many things to show thee, and I live 
in the hope of seeing thee under thy roof before 
long. I want to talk with thee on thy articles in 
the "Independent," and on the subject of wo- 
man's rights, labor, etc. I like thy views gener- 


ally, but I fear we should quarrel a little on some 
points. I regard thee as about the wisest of wo- 
men, but nevertheless venture to dissent now and 
then, perhaps rather to the manner of saying an 
unpalatable truth, than to the truth itself, which 
of course is right. 

In 1871, Mr. Whittier edited "John Wool- 
man's Journal," revealing to a new generation, 
and to people who had not before heard of this 
New Jersey saint and reformer, the beauties of his 
style, and the importance of his testimonies 
against the evils of his age. The delicacy and 
natural refinement of the unlettered Quaker 
made an impression upon the literature as well as 
the religion and philanthropy of his time, and 
Whittier did a good service in bringing his writ- 
ings again before the public. 

In the same year he edited a choice selection of 
juvenile poems by various authors, with the title 
of " Child-Life : A Collection of Poems," in 
which he had the assistance of Lucy Larcom. 
The purpose of the editors in this, as in the com- 
panion volume " Child-Life in Prose," issued two 
years later, was to make volumes which should 
not offend the cultivated tastes of parents, while 
amusing their children. 

At the time this work was being compiled, some 
one sent Miss Larcom, in manuscript, a poem en- 
titled " Jack in the Pulpit," but there was no indi- 
cation as to its authorship. She sent it to Mr. 
Whittier, who was pleased with it, but thought 
he could improve it. He wrote to Miss Larcom, 

''CHILD-LIFE'' 575 

AprU 20, 1871 : " I send * Jack ' in a new dress. 
Whose is it ? ^ The conception is so fine, some of 
its verses so good, that I have been tinkering on 
it, to get it into readable and printable shape." 

In November, 1871, he wrote to Miss Larcom : 
" I 've got the sheets of our ' Child-Life,' and like 
the thing hugely. But I think now I shall take 
the credit of it all to myself. If it had not looked 
nice and good, I should have shirked it, and left 
all on thy shoulders. ... I have been putting 
Yankee words to Christian Winter's ballad of 
'Herr Volmer and Elsie.' A Danish friend has 
sent me what he calls a literal prose translation, 
and I have made a nice thing of it — omitting 
one or two things not in keeping." 

After Sumner's speech of January 15, 1872, in 
favor of his civil rights bill, Mr. Whittier wrote : 
" Thank thee for thy noble speech I Some of our 
politicians are half afraid of it, but, depend upon 
it, the heart of Massachusetts is with thee. Am- 
nesty for rebels and a guarantee of safety for 
freedmen should go together." 

"The Pennsylvania Pilgrim, and Other 
Poems " was published in 1872. On the 24th of 
May, Mr. •Whittier wrote to James R. Osgood : 
" I am half inclined to think it would be best to 
print my poem, a part of which I showed thee, in 

^ He did not find ont in regard to the anthorship before the 
volume was published, and the poem appeared anonymously. 
He afterward learned that Miss Carrie Smith, of West Medford, 
wrote the verses he had been *^ tinkering," and g^ve her credit 
for her work in subsequent editions, and also in letters to several 
newspapers. He followed the general plan of the original, but 
made many material changes. 


a volume by itself. It contains about five hundred 
lines, divided into verses of three lines, and with 
the introduction and notes will make nearly fifty 
pages, or about the size of ' Snow-Bound.' I have 
added a good deal to it and, I think, made it a 
better poem. I think honestly it is as good as 
(if not better than) any long poem I have written. 
But if thee prefer to print a larger volume, in- 
cluding my shorter poems, I will not insist. I 
shall call it 'The Germantown Pilgrim.' It is 
now ready for the press save the addition of a 
few notes." The principal poem ^ in this collec- 
tion teUs the pleasant, quiet story of the learned 
and pious German, Pastorius, who in 1663, at the 
invitation of William Penn, brought a colony of 
his countrymen to Pennsylvania, and planted it 
near Philadelphia, his township including what is 
now the beautiful suburb of Germantown. He 
joined the Society of Friends soon after his arri- 
val, and was the author of the first protest made 
by any religious body against slavery. 

Among the dozen poems bound up with "The 
Pennsylvania Pilgrim," were " The Pageant," 
" Marguerite," " My Birthday," and " King Vol- 
mer and Elsie." W. S. Kennedy, in His- "Life of 
Whittier," says the last-named poem is a para- 
phrase of the Howitts' translation of " Henrik and 

^ Sixteen stanzas of this poem, descriptive of the '* Quaker 
Meeting," were published in the Independent, in June, 1872. 
In a note to Osgood, written in May, Whittier says : " Fields 
thinks it would be better to entitle it *' Pastorius of Pennsylvania.* 
I am not sure about it. He objects to the word * Germantown.* 
We might call it ^ The Pennsylvania Pilgrim,' a rather pleasant 
sounding alliteration." 


Else " ; but Mr. Whittier never saw the poetical 
translation by the Howitts. 

Upon receipt of " The Pennsylvania Pilgrim," 
Ealph Waldo Emerson wrote to Mr. Whittier: 
" I have never thanked you for the kind welcome 
home you sent me under the best form of the book 
of poems, which we presently found time to read 
through, — my wife and daughters assisting. I 
confess to the frivolity of liking ' King Volmer 
and Elsie ' the best, if only because the reader's 
voice broke suddenly at the summit of the story. 
But we will talk of this and much more, if you will 
in your lifetime come to Concord, as you once 
promised to do. My dame will not forget it, nor 
will let me if I could. Now, a week from to-mor- 
row is the meeting of the Saturday Club, which 
you might honor oftener than you do. I pray you 
to come and spend Friday with us, and we will 
carry you down to the Club on Saturday." 


3d mo., 1st, 1872. 

It was good in thee to send me thy new book. 
I had read most of it before in the " Independent." 
But a second perusal in fair type has been none 
the less satisfactory. It is one of thy very ablest 
books — shorn of some of the redundant wealth of 
diction which some reviewers complained of in thy 
first publications, but lacking none of their vigor 
and life and insight. I quarreled with thee often 
as I read, but, after all, laid the book down with a 
most profound respect for the wise little woman 
who wrote it. I shall not put my quarrels on 


paper, but when a kind Providence gives me an 
opportunity I shall " withstand thee to thy face." 
I will simply say that my old bachelor reverence 
for woman has been somewhat disturbed by thy 
revelations. / am not going to condemn her 
because thee turn State's evidence against her. 
Voter, or non-voter, I have faith in her. Mrs. G. 
gave me the history of thy shawl hunt in Boston. 
I shall not waste my sage advice on thee any 
more. I don't see but thee are just as much 
given to worldly vanities as if thee had never had 
the benefit of ^ Quaker's counsels and example. 


6th mo., 1872. 
To-morrow our Quarterly Meeting commences, 
and our house wiU be filled with " Friends." I 
have got two turkeys, and beef, and tongue, to 
meat the exigency ; and Lizzie is making cake for 
lunch before meeting. . . . I see in Fields's " Yes- 
terdays with Authors " that Dickens speaks highly 
of thy prose articles in the " Atlantic," but de- 
clares he don't believe it : " No, I don't. My con- 
viction is that these Islanders must be dreadfully 
bored with their islands." I wish he could have 
seen them as we have. ... I have a poem of 
length written last winter, " The Germantown Pil- 
grim," a Quaker story of the old times, which I 
like. It is as long as " Snow-Bound," and better, 
but nobody will find it out. ... Is n't it droll 
that thy only vulnerable point, in the estimation of 
critics, is thy goodness ! Too much piety I Solo- 
mon has a word of advice to such folks as are 


" too good 
For human nature^s daily food." 

** Be not righteous overmuch : why shouldst thou 
destroy thyself ? *' But soberly, I think it is all 
nonsense — this objection to some of thy verses. 
Such nice folks as Joseph and Gertrude Cartlaud 
like them for the very thing complained of, and so 
do I, who am not nice. 

Sumner became active in his opposition to some 
features of the policy of President Grant's admin- 
istration. He made a speech in the Senate, May 
31, 1872, severely denoimcing the administration 
of President Grant, and opposing his reelection. 
He felt sure this speech would give pain to his 
friend Whittier, and to him he wrote a letter of 
explanation. This is Whittier's reply, dated June 
12 . "I needed no assurance on thy part that thy 
speech was an honest one, and inspired by a sense 
of duty. And yet I am sorry for some parts of it, 
as I think its effect would have been better if it 
had been less severe. I inclose a note to the 
* Transcript.' I think already a reaction has 
commenced, and many who denounced the speech 
strongly now feel that, after all, the charges it 
makes have not been disproved. Indeed, I have 
not much doubt that, if thy election as Senator 
were pending in Massachusetts at this very time, 
there would be a majority in thy favor ; for I pre- 
sume the great body of the Democrats would sus- 
tain thee, and the old Liberty party men are not 
all gone over by any means." 

The letter of Whittier's to the "Transcript,'* 


referred to above, appeared in the issue of June 6, 
1872 : "As regards the senior Senator of Massachu- 
setts I have no change of opinion to record. I have 
not forgotten his long and brilliant services in the 
cause of freedom and the best interests of his 
country and mankind. I know him well. I have 
stood side by side with him for thirty years, and 
it requires something more than a mistake on his 
part to make me desert an old friend. I confess 
that I have seen with some impatience men, whose 
Kepublicanism seems mainly to consist in their 
readiness to grasp the spoils of a victory won in 
a great measure by others, maligning, insulting, 
and displacing a man whose integrity, intellect, 
and acquirements are a standing reproach to them- 
selves. I am no blind advocate of Senator Sumner, 
or any other man. I expect to see faults and frail- 
ties, and to grieve over the mistakes of those I love 
and respect. I regret the late speech, as it ex- 
poses the author to the charge of personal resent- 
ment, and because it seems to me unduly severe in 
its tone and temper. The Kepublicans of Massar 
chusetts may, and probably wiU, dissent from its 
conclusions, through the press and at the ballot- 
box, but they have no occasion to question his sin- 
cerity or to charge him with abandoning any of the 
great principles which he has so nobly assisted, and 
for which he has suffered more than martyrdom." 


I regret more than I can tell that I am not able 
to attend the reunion of the freedmen's friends and 


teachers. My niece, who has spent three seasons 
in the service, is the bearer of this note. I honor 
the noble band of teachers who through obloquy 
and self-denial have done the pioneer work of the 
freedraen's education. The beneficial influence of 
their labor will be felt through all the future. It 
has been to me a great satisfaction to be connected 
in some degree, through sympathy and effort, with 
the good work. 


6th mo., 1872. 

My Quaker poem [" The Pennsylvania Pilgrim"] 
is in type, and I have just looked over the proof. 
/ like it, and if nobody else does, I shall not feel 
bad. I am glad thee are having a good time 
under the mountains. Is it David who says : " The 
weight of the hills is upon me ? " . . . Don't 
make thy poem too long. Thee can cut it down, or 
razee it, after it is finished, I suppose, but it is 
hard to kill one's children, even if the family is too 
large. Thy strong points in the poem will be, or 
should be, characterization and description. The 
shades as well as the lights of that life in the mills 
should be given — the grotesque and the grace- 

On the 13th of August, 1872, Mr. Whittier's 
house in Amesbury was struck by lightning. 
When the shower came up, he was in the " garden 
room," while his nieces were in the little sewing- 
room on the opposite side of the house. He was 
on his way to suggest to them the propriety of 
leaving their work, and not sitting by the win- 


dows, when the bolt descended. He fell to the 
floor and was for a short time insensible ; both 
the ladies were also stunned. They all recovered 
their senses about the same time, but when they 
talked found themselves deaf. The deafness soon 
passed away, and the ouly lasting effect was a 
dread of thunder-showers from which Mr. Whittier 
never recovered. Up to this time the house had 
been " protected " by lightning-rods ; Mr. Whit- 
tier had these at once removed, and would have 
no others in their place, although lightning-rod 
men were persistent in their attentions. One agent, 
provoked at his lack of success in getting an order 
from the poet, took revenge by causing a handbill 
to be printed on which appeared a picture of Mr. 
Whittier's house with a thunderbolt descending 
upon it, and a statement that this was what might 
be expected to happen to houses, the owners of 
which obstinately refuse to adopt the only sure 
method of protection ! The damage to the house 
was slight ; a beam was found split in the attic, a 
mirror was broken, and a window shade was burned 
in the sewing-room. 


8th mo., 30, 1872. 
I thank thee for thy kind note of the 20th. 
We had what ought to be regarded as a narrow 
escape. I was struck down by lightning, and my 
two nieces stunned. I suffered considerable pain ' 
in my head and along the spine, for a day or two, 
but am now much as before. Our house was not 
materially damaged. 


Sumner's proposition, in 1872, that the colors 
of the national regiments should not bear the 
names of battles of the civil war in which they 
had been carried, was not at first well received at 
the North. The Massachusetts legislature, then 
in extra session, voted in the first heat of irritation 
to censure their Senator for this magnanimous 
concession to the feelings of a conquered section 
of the country that had returned to its allegiance. 
Whittier was greatly annoyed by this hasty action 
of the legislature, and set about creating a public 
sentiment that would force the next legislature to 
expunge the vote of censure. He wrote to Sum- 
ner : " I write just to tell thee not to believe for 
a moment that the people of Massachusetts have 
any sympathy with the * resolution ' adopted by a 
dead legislature galvanized into life by the gov- 
ernor's proclamation for a special purpose. Not a 
single respectable paper of any party has, to my 
knowledge, indorsed it. It is deader than the 
legislature itself. I have yet to see the first man 
or woman who speaks in its favor. Depend upon 
it, the heart of the old Commonwealth is sound 
and generous and turns towards thee with its old 
love and gratitude. She has learned to value 
pure-handed pubHc servants. Dear friend of many 
years, be assured and hopeful. All is safe. God 
bless thee and have thee ever in his holy keeping." 

A fortnight afterward he wrote on the same 
subject, after mentioning a report he had received 
of Sumner's failing health : " I hope thee will 
not make an effort to speak this* term. The 
country is coming out all right as to thy *flag' 


resolution. The pitiful folly of our late legislature 
is already repented of. Believe me, thee never 
stood higher with the best people of all parties in 
the State. Amidst the miserable muddle of the 
Credit Mobilier it is something to be proud of that 
the smell of fire has not been upon thy garments." 

A month later, Whittier reports a hearing be- 
fore a committee at the State House, in the matter 
of the petitions he had been industriously circulat- 
ing for signatures among the best men of all 
parties. He says : " I have just got back from 
the hearing of the petitioners for rescinding the 
vote of the extra session of the legislature. The 
great Green Eoom was packed full of the noblest 
men and women of Boston and the State. Gover- 
nor Claflin opened the matter in a brief but ad- 
mirable speech, and was followed by ex-Governor 
Washburn, in a long and eloquent argument and 
appeal. James Freeman Clai-ke followed, earnest 
and able, and John C. Park had the floor when I 
left, making one of his best speeches. The hall 
rang with applause of the various speakers. The 
whole thing was well done, and I hope for the 
best results. The reports of the speeches will 
reach thee as soon as this, but I could not refrain 
from dropping a line. Governor Claflin has 
worked most actively and efficiently in the mat- 

In his effort to secure the rescinding of the reso- 
lution of censure of Charles Sumner, after writing 
to all his personal friends among the public men of 
the State, Mr. Whittier asked the help of states- 
men, jurists, and editors in other States. To Hon. 


William Claflin he wrote : " The great and general 
court have acted like fools, and worse, in denoun- 
cing Charles Sumner. I begin to hate parties and 
politics I I have sent to Hon. Willard P. Phil- 
lips, our representative, a draft of a petition for 
rescinding the odious resolution passed by the late 
extra session in censure of Charles Sumner. I 
make the movement not merely for Sumner's sake, 
but for the sake of the honor and goodness of onr 
dear old Commonwealth. Sumner's fame is beyond 
its reach, but we cannot afford the disgrace on our 
records. I have not found one intelligent and re- 
spectable man who approved of that resolution." 

Hon. Willard P. Phillips, of Salem, who was 
most active in promoting the expunging of the 
resolution, kept Mr. Whittier informed of the 
progress of the bill in the House. On the 14th of 
March, 1873, he wrote : " I have received several 
of your letters with inclosures, and thank you for 
them. The letters of Governor Noyes [of Ohio] 
and W. C. Bryant I have sent to the ' Advertiser ' 
to print to-morrow, for which I trust I have your 
authority. Had I been compelled to speak to-day 
I would have read Judge Russell's letter, but now, 
as I shall not speak until Monday, I ask your 
authority to do so. . . . The committee have re- 
ported against us, on account of the miserable 
quibble as to the power of the legislature to 
rescind or amend a resolution^ which in legisla- 
tive technicality is simply an expression of opin- 
ion. This technicality will kill the rescinding in 
the House, and we shall go out before the people 
defeated in the legislature, but appealing to them, 


and the appeal will not be in vain. The petitions 
and responses we have received are only a small 
specimen of what we shall have before we get 
through. The abuse of Sumner brings back to 
my mind the abuse of the Senator by the old 
Whig party, ' the lords of the loom and the last/ 
and the response of the people now begins to re- 
semble the responses of the people in former 

The effort was not successful in the legislature 
of 1873. Hon. Willard P. Phillips wrote to Mr. 
Whittier on the 20th of March: "The deed 
was done yesterday. It is as we feared, but the 
whole thing will help Mr. Sumner. What a 
triumph for him to be indorsed by such names as 
were on the petitions ! Of what consequence now 
is the vote of the legislature ? " But Mr. Whittier 
did not let the matter drof). He brought it before 
the next legislature, which by large majorities, in 
both houses, annulled the resolutions of censure. 
The last letter he wrote to Sunmer was to an- 
nounce the success of his persistent effort. It was 
received not long before Sumner's death, and 
gladdened the last days of the dying statesman. 
It was in these words : " The record of the Bay 
State is now clear. The folly of the extra session 
of 1872 is wiped out. I am especially pleased, as, 
like Senator Benton on a former occasion, * soli- 
tary and alone I set the ball in motion.' " 

While the question of rescinding the resolutions 
of censure was pending Mr. Whittier wrote an 
article which was published in the village paper of 
Amesbury, in which he said : " Should the mem- 


bers of tlie present legislature fail to see in this 
movement that the people of Massachusetts are in 
earnest in the matter, and, in consequence, indorse 
the unjust action of the extra session, they will 
find that the question cannot be thus disposed of. 
It will press with tenfold force on the ne^t legisla- 
ture, and. enter into every election until the obnox- 
ious resolutions are rescinded and annulled. The 
people of Massachusetts, during the past session 
of Congress, have learned to value more highly 
than ever the clean hands and lofty antique virtue 
of their great Senator. His spotless character, 
his life of noble aims and glorious achievements, 
are brought into strong relief against the corrup- 
tion and miserable dishonesty of too many of his 
colleagues. They forgive what they regard as 
his errors in judgment on some points, in grateful 
admiration of a man who might well be justified 
in using Milton's language of lofty confidence in 
his reply to Salmasius : — 'I am not one who has 
disgraced beauty of sentiment by deformity of 
conduct, or the maxims of a free man by the 
actions of a slave, but, by the grace of God, I 
have kept my life unsullied.' " 

Mr. Whittier had not followed Sumner out of 
the Republican party in 1872, but their personal 
friendship was not broken by political estrange- 
ment. On several occasions he came loyally to 
the defense of his friend when unjustly assailed. 

When the intelligence of the death of Sumner 
reached Mr. Whittier, he sent this note to Mrs. 
Claflin : " I have just received a telegram an- 
nouncing the death of our dear and noble friend, 


Charles Sumner. My heart is too full for words. 
In deepest sympathy of sorrow I reach out my 
hands to thee and Governor Claflin, who loved him 
so well. He has died as he wished, at his post of 
duty, and when the heart of his beloved Massachu- 
setts was turning towards him with more than the 
old-time love and reverence. God's peace be with 

When Massachusetts would do honor to the 
memory of her great senator, Whittier was natu- 
rally called upon by the " old Commonwealth," as 
he was wont lovingly to entitle her, for an ode to 
grace the memorial service. No monument of 
brass or marble will outlive the noble tribute to 
his friend which he presented for this occasion. 
In these stately elegiac verses the character and 
career of Sunmer are sketched with fidelity to 
truth as well as loyalty to friendship. In accept- 
ing the commission of the State he says : — 

'^ I take -with awe the task assigned ; 
It may be that my friend might miss, 
In his new sphere of heart and mind, 
i Some token from my hand in this. 

*^ By many a tender memory moved, 
Along the past my thought I send; 
The record of the cause he loved 
Is the best record of its friend." 

It is with pardonable pride he refers to the ex- 
punging of the vote of censure, which was due to 
his own eflEorts : — 

'* If for one moment turned thy face, ^ 
O Mother, from thy son, not long 
He waited calmly in his place 

The sure remorse which follows wrong. 


" Forgiven be the State he lored 

The one brief lapse, the single blot ; 
Forgotten be the stain removed, 
Her righted record shows it not I " 



It IS such a voice as I have long wished to hear. 
It is the old Christian testimony which the Puri- 
tan and Quaker bore in their better days, and it 
never was more needed than now. The war has 
demoralized all — the contagion of its shoddy ex- 
travagance has reached everybody. The church 
and the world are alike infected. It has entered 
cradle and nursery, and turned the sweet sim- 
plicity and grace of childhood into a fashionable 
scarecrow. . • . Think of these grotesque carica- 
tures of womanhood at the baUot-box ! Of legis- 
lators in panniers and bustles, scant of clothing 
where it is most needed, and loaded down where 
it is not I 


2d mo., 1873. 

Thy long poem " Lars " is intense in its half- 
subdued power ; but the terror and cruelty of the 
sea was never described more strongly. It oc- 
curred to me that as it now stands, with the Norse 
name of Lars and Elsa, it would be understood as 
a fancy foreign sketch. I have tried to localize it 
by these two verses ^ by way of introduction : — 

** * Tell US a story of these isles,' they said, — 

The daughteirs of the West, whose eyes have seen 
* On receipt of What to Wear, 

2 Mr. Whittier's suggestion was adopted by Mrs. Thaxter, and 
her strong poem stands with these two stanzas as a preface. 


For the first time the cirolingf sea, instead 

Of the blown prairie's wares of grassy g^reen ;— 

" * Tell ns of wreck and peril, storm and cold, 
Wild as the wildest.' Under summer stars, 
With the slow moonrise at our back, I told 
The story of our young Norwegian, Lars." , 


OOi mo., 1878. 
Thy kind note, and that of my friend John M. 
Forbes, are before me. I cannot tell thee how 
glad I should be to accept so kind an invitation. 
The season, the place, above all the company, at- 
tract me strongly ; and it pains me to know that I 
must forego the pleasure. I have been suffering 
for ten days with a cold, with feverish habit, and 
should be in my present condition a guest to be 
tolerated, and not enjoyed. As soon as I am able 
to bear the fatigue I must go up among the New 
Hampshire hills, away from the aea. Ah, me! 
How sorry I am ! How glad I should be, as our 
dear Holmes says, to see " the sun set over fair 
Naushon 1 " ^hank my friend Forbes for me, and 
tell him that his threatened anathemas of the 
irrepressible Benjamin^ would not in the least 
disturb me. I should not trouble myself if Dr. 
Slop's anathemas were poured out upon him. 
Who pities a rhinoceros peppered with small shot? 
I fear, however, that we shall have the man for 
governor. The influence of the administration is 
on his side, or he will claim it, and will not be con- 
tradicted. I feel in regard to present party poli- 
tics an immeasurable disgust. 
} General Butler, then talked of for governor by Republicans. 


When Patrick S. Gilmore was making prepara- 
tions for his great Peace Jubilee of 1878, he 
called upon Mr. Whittier for an ode appropriate 
to the occasion. But the poet could never make 
any engagement for his muse ; he would make no 
promise, and advised the famous bandmaster to 
look elsewhere. Not getting any first-class writer 
to undertake it, Gilmore made a public call, offer- 
ing a prize for an accepted ode from any source. 
There came to Whittier at about this time the 
inspiration of the verse, " Blow, bugles of battle, 
the marches of peace," and when the ode, now 
known as " A Christmas Carmen," was complete, 
it occurred to him to have it offered to Gilmore 
anonymously. The ode was sent, and coming from 
an unknown source received no attention from 
Gilmore. Those who now read the poem, know- 
ing the occasion for which it was written, will 
wonder how GUmore failed to recognize the ex- 
quisite fitness of the ode for his purpose. 

*^ Sing the bridal of nations I with chorals of lore 
Sing ont the war-vulture, and sing in the dove, 
Till the hearts of the peoples keep time in accord, 
And the voice of the world is the voice of the Lord I 
Clasp hands of the nations 
In strong gratnlations : 
The dark night is ending, and dawn has beg^un ; 
Blse, hope of the ages, arise like the sun. 

All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one I 

*' Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace ; 
Bast, west, north, and south, let the long quarrel cease ; 
Sing the song of gfreat joy that the angels began, 
Sing of glory to God, and of good will to man I 

Hark ! joining in chorus, 

The Heavens bend o*er us I 


The dark night is ending, and dawn has begnn ; 
Kise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, 
All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one I '' 


Amesbubt, 10th mo., 18, 1873. 
I can fully understand and sympathize with thy 
New York friend in her graphic description of a 
Quaker protracted meeting. I hope and believe 
that some good will grow out of the " new depart- 
ure." There are some people who from the very 
constitution of their minds seem incapable of re- 
ceiving any benefit from the quiet self'<;ommuning 
of ancient Quakerism, and all such who are 
nominally in our Society will run naturally into 
these extremes of demonstration. I cannot; I am 
confused and bewildered by these noisy meetings, 
which seem so edifying to others. 

In November, 1873, Miss Larcom being confined 
to her house by illness, Mr. Whittier, whom she 
was assisting in the compilation of " Child-Life in 
Prose," wrote : " It will be a good time while thee 
are shut in doors to turn to that dreadful book, 
which should have the benefit of thy reflection, 
whether sick or well, as the ancient Germans de- 
bated all matters twice, once drunk, and once 

In his preface to " Child-Life in Prose," pub- 
lished in 1873, Mr. Whittier makes some com- 
ments which have an autobiographic passage in 
them, referring to his own childhood : — 

" It may be well to admit, in the outset, that the 
book is as much for child-lovers, who have not 


outgrown their child-heartedness in becoming men 
and women, as for children themselves ; that it is 
as much about childhood, 2^8 for it. If not the 
wisest, it appears to me that the happiest people 
in the world are those who still retain something 
of the child's creative faculty of imagination, 
which makes atmosphere and color, sun and 
shadow, and boundless horizons, out of what 
seems to prosaic wisdom most inadequate material, 
— a tuft of grass, a mossy rock, the rain-pools of 
a passing shower, a glimpse of sky and cloud, 
a waft of west wind, a bird's flutter and song. . . . 
It is possible that the language and thought of 
some portions of the book may be considered be- 
yond the comprehension of the class for which it 
is intended. Admitting that there may be truth 
in the objection, I believe, with Coventry Patmore 
in his preface to a child's book, that the charm of 
such a volume is increased rather than lessened 
by the surmised existence of an unknown element 
of power, meaning, and beauty. I well remember 
how, at a very early age, the solemn organ-roll of 
Gray's ' Elegy ' and the lyric sweep and pathos of 
Cowper's 'Lament for the Royal George' moved 
and fascinated me with a sense of mystery and 
power felt rather than understood. *A spirit 
passed before my face, but the form thereof was 
not discerned.' Freighted with unguessed mean- 
ings, these poems spake to me, in an unknown 
tongue indeed, but like the wind in the pines or 
the waves on the beach, awakening faint echoes 
and responses, and vaguely prophesying of wonders 
yet to be revealed." 



4tfi mo., 1874 
Have you read Augustine Jones's discourse? 
It seems to me he has done remarkably well. He 
has given in concise form the distinctive doctrines 
and testimonies of Friends. But those who wish to 
have it understood that Quakerism differs in no 
respect from Methodism and other so-called Evan- 
gelical sects are bitter against it. I have had, 
within the last month, visits from several Orthodox 
clergymen, two of whom I took with me to meeting. 
I found their ideal of Friends not quite satisfied. 
They want the old quiet and plainness. One of 
them said, " We need to come towards you, but you 
seem disposed to come to us." I was very sorry 
to miss seeing cousin Mary £. and her sister when 
they called at the hotel. " Khoda " ^ is regarded 
justly as a very promising story, and is to be pub- 
lished in book form, and will be quite popular, I 
am sure. 


The poem [" A Sea Dream "] which I had on 
hand for the January number, on a careful re-peru- 
sal strikes me as one that the world can do without. 
It is more faultless in rhythm and construction 
than my ordinary style of pieces, but it lacks 
"excuse for being." I therefore send thee a 
rhymed epistle [" The Golden Wedding of Long- 
wood " ] on the occasion of the gol(^n wedding of 
gome old friends of mine in Kennett, Pa., in 

^ Rhoda Thornton was a story then recently published, of which 
Whittier's cousin, Mary £. Pratt, was the author. 


Bayard Taylor's neighborhood. It is n't learned, 
nor graceful, nor obscure with transcendentalisms, 
— but plain, homely verse as befitted the subjects 
and occasion, and I like it, and think some others 


6th mo., 6, 1874. 
Of course thee saw the great wedding at the 
White House. Sometime thee shall tell me all 
about it, especially about the ladies' dresses, in 
which thee knows I have a particular interest. 
Did thee meet Kingsley ? I like him hugely ; he 
is a manly man. I sat for my head and shoulders 
to Edgar Parker, the portrait painter, last winter, 
and Longfellow and others say it is a perfect 
picture. When can thee be spared from the seat 
of government? Thee might just as well be 
a Member of Congress under what King James 
calls "the monstrous reign of the women." I 
wish thee wds "the Member from Essex," with 
all my heart 1^ 


7th mo., 14, 1874 
I love Beecher and believe in him. He has done 
good to thousands. If he has fallen into tempta- 
tion I shall feel grieved, but would be ashamed of 
myself were I less his friend. 


I wonder what the Islands would be without 
thee — a mere pile of rocks, I imagine, dead as the 

^ Bailer then represented the district. 



moon's old volcanic mountains. Thee have given 
them an atmosphere. Does thee know that Parton 
in his lecture on ^^ Fashion'' introduces thee as 
the best-dressed lady he ever saw? Such is the 
penalty of writing and making books I 


Ahebbubt, 11th mo., 30, 1874. 
Thy beautiful book of "Noonings" came to 
hand, and, as usual, I find it wise and witty, with 
just enough of unwisdom to make it spicy and en- 
joyable. Of course, I turned right to the 291st 
page,^ and read my canonization ! I wonder 
whether the old saints when invested with robes 
of sanctity found it so difficult as I do to walk in 
them. " Jordan is a hard road to travel." I am 
afraid I shall have to go back to the Quaker coat, 
after all. Only a day or two ago I lost my temper 
because somebody who was not a saint, but only an 
average church member, was perverse and ill^lis- 
positioned ; and I disputed the bill of an Irishman 
who thought it right to make spoil of a Protestant 
Egyptian, and I dare say he went away with no 
satisfactory evidence of my saintship. A French 
Jesuit missionary tells of a young lad who had 
been set apart from infancy as a Buddha, and was 

^ The passage referred to is in a talk with a yomig child who 
quotes something from Whittier, as from the Bible ; whereupon 
the author says: '* Blessed and beloved apostle I Sweetest 
saint in all the calendar I Worthy successor of that disciple 
whom Jesus loved ; gentlest and tenderest of all the Sons of 
Thunder, I should not have dared to follow my heart's prompt- 
ings and class you with those holy men of old ; but when out of 
the month of babes and sucklings your praise is perfected, it is 
not for me to stand by and say them nay." 


held in reverence by the Mongol shepherds. He 
told the Frenchman that he supposed he was a 
Buddha, and must sit still and cross-legged in his 
tent, and be worshiped, but if it was all the same, 
he would rather play with the boys. I think I can 
imderstand the young Tartar. If one must be a 
saint, he must, but if it is all the same, I prefer 
the role of an ordinary human creature. When 
does thee go southward ? I don't quite like all 
the results of the late elections ; but it is some 
comfort to feel that we shall now cease to be intro- 
duced to strangers as Mr. and Miss , from 

" Butler's District." I have been hoping to see 
thee again before it is too late for the season. Thy 
visit here was a most welcome one, but too short. 
I don't believe thee knows Eow glad I am to see 
thee. God bless thee always ! 

Pleasant Valley, in Amesbury, is an aptly- 
named neighborhood on the left bank of the Mer- 
rimac, which in this part of its course has its bed 
far below the level of the surrounding country. 
At some points there is scant room for the river 
road between the high blufif and the water; at 
others a wedge of fertile intervale pushes back the 
steep bank. The comfortable houses of an ancient 
Quaker settlement are perched and scattered along 
this road in picturesque fashion. At the lower 
end of this valley, near the mouth of the Powow, 
on the edge of a bluff overlooking the Merrimac, 
Goody Martin lived more than two hundred years 
ago, and the cellar of her house was still to be 
seen when, in 1866, Whittier first told the story 


of "The Witch's Daughter," which had the 
leading place in "Home Ballads," with the 
" Proem " which then covered the whole collection 
of ballads in that edition. The other additions 
were made when " Mabel Martin " in nearly its 
present form was issued in a volume by itself, 
beautifully illustrated, in 1875. The only histori- 
cal foundation for this charming ballad is the fact 
that Goody Martin, who lived at the place so 
graphically described by the poet, was hanged as a 
witch, during the prevalence of the dreadful delu- 
sion, being the only woman who suffered death on 
a charge of witchcraft on the north side of the 
Merrimac. The first three of the following letters 
to James B. Osgood were written while work was 
in progress upon the illustrated edition of " Mabel 
Martin." Some of the illustrations were from de- 
signs by Miss Hallock : — 


I have made up my mind. I will have " Mabel 
Martin " ready for thee as soon as thee wish it. I 
shall add to it some eighty lines, which will make 
it longer than Longfellow's. What I shall add 
will be full of pictures, and I think quite as good 
as any part of the original poem. I am very sure 
thee will like it, and that Miss H. will find it well 
suited to her work. It will be necessary to have 
the entire poem put in fair type, and I must have 
a proof, after it is revised. Miss H. must have a 
copy and I want another. After it is printed so 
as to be readable I waa,t Mr. Anthony to see it 


11th mo., 1874. 

I send back the proof with some changes I 
think for the better. I shall not meddle further 
with it except perhaps here and there a verbal 
substitution, before it is fixed irrevocably in book 
form. I am inclined to make the title read, 
"Mabel Martin, a Summer Idyl." I would like 
to see the revised proof before it goes to Miss 
Hallock. The poem is much longer than Long- 
fellow's, and I should prefer riot to have it so full 
of pictures, but more reading matter in their place. 
If illustrated as fully as Longfellow's it would 
make a book at least one third larger. As it now 
stands I regard it as the best poem of the kind I 
have ever written, and I am pretty sure I could 
not improve upon it in a new poem at this late 
day. I trust a good deal to Dr. John Brown's 
opinion of it. 

22d, 11th mo., 1874. 

I promised I would add nothing more to this 
poem, but I was tempted to do it in one instance. 
If it will be a serious inconvenience to make the 
change indicated on page 8, do as thee please with 
the added verses. At any rate don't send any 
more proofs to me, for I fear I shall go to disturb- 
ing what I think is very well as it is. I think 
Miss Hallock will find sufficient material in the 
poem as it now stands to answer her purpose of 

llth mo., 4, 1875. 

Never was there a prettier book than " Mabel 
Martin 1 " If it does not sell well it surely cannot 
be the fault of the publishers and artists. The 


poem ^ thee refer to is scarcely worthy to be called 
such — some twelve or fifteen lines, a part of 
which many years ago were printed anonymously 
in the "Transcript." I don't know why they 
were sent by me — except that I was told Long- 
fellow, Holmes, and Lowell had done likewise, or 
perhaps I was acting on the principle of the girl 
who married her importunate lover " to get rid of 
him.'* It is not worth troubling one's self about 

12thmo.,25ih, 1875. 
I am greatly obliged, through thee, to receive 
from Mabel Martin her Christmas present of 
($1000) one thousand dollars. I scarcely ex- 
pected the young lady to " come down " so hand- 


dd mo., 1875. 

I thought of thee at once when I heard of 

Bessie G 's loss. How strange that we shall 

never see her more I That young, bright, beauti- 
ful life is gone out of the world ! Ah me I by 
what a frail tenure do we hold all that we love I 
God help us to be true and generous and tender 
to each other while we may ! • . . I remember 
Lindley Murray's Grammar defined a verb as " a 
word signifying to be, to do, or to suffer," which 
is just my predicament, leaving out the " to do." 
. • . Thy " Swallows " is in thy very best style. 
More and more I congratulate myself on my share 
in urging thee to "exercise thy gift," as we 
Friends say. I can sympathize with thee, or, what 
^ It is not certain to what poem reference Is here made. 


is better, laugh with thee, over the ludicrous blun- 
ders of the types. One gets hardened to these 
petty annoyances. The droll thing is that sensible 
people read these absurd perversions of another's 
meaning, praise the poem, and are innocent of the 
slightest suspicion that all is not right. They give 
an occult and transcendental meaning to ^' saw- 
dust," or suppose that they are not practical 
enough to discern the beauty and significance of 
it. • . . And is it so strange to thee that the good 
people of Portsmouth should be glad and proud of 
one who has made her name a household word in 
the land, and made their river and harbor and out- 
lying islands immortal in song? How glad I am 
that I can say to thee, " I told you so years ago ! " 
Sir Walter Ealeigh and other old prospectors 
sought in this New World the land of Eldorado. 
They went too far south. They sailed by Merri- 
mac Biver, never suspecting that it plowed down 
through the vaUey of gold they longed for. The 
sober old town of Newburyport is transformed.^ 
Its hotels are full of gold-seekers, sleeping three 
in a bed, and on the floor. A neighbor of ours, 
recently married, commenced last fall to dig a 
cellar for his house ; he is now blasting silver out 
of his cellar, and the prospect is that we shall soon 
be as crazy as the folks down river. 


4th, 3d mo., 1875. 
I wish thee could have been with us. Thee 

1 Silver had been found in the rocky pastares of the neighbor- 


would have seen a sight which will not be likely 
to occur again — Garrison, Elizur Wright, Samuel 
E. Sewall, and myself together — four gray old 
abolitionists, dating back to 1832 1 It seemed 
strange as a dream to call back the scenes and 
emotions, the hopes and fears of forty years ago ! 


20th, 3d mo., 1875. 
I have added two verses, mainly for the sake of 
bringing the British lion and Yankee eagle to- 
gether. I do not like to add the note thee suggest. 
It will or ought to be understood, but I have 
changed the word. It is possible that I may send 
the poem to the " Atlantic Monthly," which will 
be published on the 20th of April, after your cele- 
bration. I prefer to have its title only " Lexing- 
ton, 1776." 


Ist, 5th mo., 1875. 

I stretched my Quakerism to the full strength of 
its drab in writing about the Lexington folks who 
were shot and did not shoot back. I cannot say 
anything about those who did shoot to some pur- 
pose on Bunker Hill.^ These occasional poems 
are fatal to any poet save Dr. Holmes. He al- 
ways manages to come off safely. I am sorry I 
cannot oblige thee in this matter, but I don't 
think any verses of mine could add lustre to the 

1 He had been asked to contribute to the Bunker Hill cen- 



7th mo., 1875. 

How good Longfellow's poem ^ is ! A little sad, 
but full of " sweetness and light." Emerson, 
Longfellow, Holmes, and myself, all are getting to 
be old fellows, and that swan-song might serve for 
us all — " we who are about to die." God help 
us all ! I don't care ior fame, and have no solici- 
tude about the verdict of posterity. 

^' When the grass is green above us, 
And they who know ns now and love ns 
Are sleeping at our side, 

*' Will it avail ns aught that men 
Tell the world with lip and pen 

That we have lived and died ? ** 

What we are will then be more important than 
what we have done or said in prose or rhyme, or 
what folks that we never saw or heard of think of 



Thy confession as respects thy services in the 
cause of freedom and emancipation does not shock 
me at all. The emancipation that came by mili- 
tary necessity and enforced by bayonets was not 
the emancipation for which we worked and prayed. 
But, like the Apostle, I am glad the gospel of 
Freedom was preached, even if by strife and emu- 
lation. It cannot be said that we did it ; we, in- 
deed, had no triumph. But the work itself was a 
success. It made us stronger and better men and 
women. Some had little to sacrifice, but I always 

^ Morituri Salutamus. 


felt, my dear friend, that thee had made the cost- 
liest offering to the cause. For thee alone, of all 
of us, had won a literary reputation which any 
one might have been proud of. I read all thy 
early work with enthusiastic interest, as I have all 
the later. Some time ago I searched Boston and 
New York for thy " Hobomok," and succeeded in 
finding a defaced copy. How few American books 
can compare with thy " Philothea " ! Why, my 
friend, thy reputation, in spite of the anti-slavery 
surrender of it for so many years, is still a living 
and beautiful reality. And after all, good as thy 
books are, we know thee to be better than any 
book. I wish thee could know how proudly and 
tenderly thee is loved and honored by the best and 
wisest of the land. 


Bbabcamp, 8th mo., 1875. 
We have been here for the last three weeks. It 
is a quiet, old-fashioned inn, beautifully located, 
neat as possible, large rooms, nice beds, and good, 
wholesome table. ... I send you a photograph 
taken a few weeks ago. . It looks, as I suppose it 
should, rather the worse for wear. Can you not 
come up here for a few days, and may I not expect 
you this week ? 


I read thy letter with sincere sympathy. I can 
understand thy disappointment. But it may not 
prove to thee or thy child so sad a calamity as thee 

1 Whose infant was in some way malf oimed. 


now regard it. It might have been idiocy, the 
saddest of all for a mother It happens that two 
of my neighbors were born lacking right hands. 
But both have been exceptionally happy and pros- 
perous. One is a skillful physician, and the other 
a successful teacher. The son of the latter is the 
finest landscape painter in the United States. 
Take courage, then ; be thankful that the grief is 
no worse ; trust thy dear child to the Lord. All 
will be well. If she is lovely in mind, or person, 
or life, she will be loved all the more for her de- 


Amesbuby, lOih mo., 1875. 
I was greatly disappointed in not seeing thee 
when in New England. We visited the cars at 
each arrival [at West Ossipee] for two or three 
days, hoping to see thee step out. We had a 
pleasant company at the Bearcamp House — my 
nieces and half a dozen of their friends, and we 
should have made thee at home at once. I am far 
from well this autumn ; yet the beautiful changes 
of the season have never seemed so sweet before, 
and life even with suffering seen» desirable. 
When unable to leave home, I think of the friends 
I love, and the atmosphere warms and brightens 
around me, and my heart sings a hymn of thank- 
fulness. What has thee read of late, and what 
written ? I wonder thee does not write more, and 
how thee can keep so good a pen as thine still, I 
cannot conjecture. 



16th, 10th mo., 1875. 
Lizzie and I went to Danvers a week ago to 
meet the Johnsons at their new place.^ It is very 
nice, — twenty acres of lawn and all sorts of fine 
trees. But I fear they will find it lonesome. It 
is the old Nathaniel Putnam place, where Ann 
Putnam and her young circle of witch-friends 
used to hold their gatherings. She was Nathaniel 
Putnam's niece. I wonder if the place is n't 
haunted by her or her victims ? The Johnsons are 
altering the house and will make it very pleasant. 


I have been negotiating about the " Old Whit- 
tier Homestead," and there is some prospect of 
getting it, but I feel less and less interest in it. 
Who will care for it after a few of us are gone ? 
To us, who have reached threescore or thereaway, 
the mansions of the earth are of small importance, 
in comparison with those spoken of by our Lord, 
where only true rest can be found. 

"The Vaudois Teacher," one of Whittier's 
earliest poems, was translated into French, and 
for many years was well known and popular 
among the Waldenses, who adopted it as a house- 
hold poem. But it was not known by them to be 
of American origin until 1875, when Eev. J. C. 
Fletcher gave the information to the Moderator of 
the Waldensian Synod. Mr. Fletcher, while a 

1 Oak EnoU. 


student under D'Aubigne, at Geneva, found this 
to be a favorite poem among his fellow-students, 
but did not then know it was by Whittier. 
He visited Whittier in 1857, and had by this 
time learned who was the author of the poem. 
What he told the poet of the influence of his 
verses moved Whittier deeply, and he was greatly 
pleased to know that he had composed lines that 
had cheered the Christians of the Cottian Alps. 
Upon Mr. Fletcher's return to Italy, in 1876, he 
wrote to Moderator Charbonnier, who communi- 
cated the information at a banquet which closed 
the meeting of the Synod. When the announce- 
ment was made, the whole assembly, composed of 
pastors, missionaries, and foreign delegates, rose 
and received with enthusiasm the name of " Jean 
Greenleefy Vittier," as they pronounced it. The 
Moderator was instructed to write a letter of 
thanks to Mr. Whittier in the name of the Synod. 
This is the letter he sent, bearing date, Torr^ Pel- 
lic6, Pigment, Italic, September 13, 1876 : — 

Dear and Honored Brother, — I have re- 
cently learned by a letter from my friend, J. C. 
Fletcher, now residing in Naples, that you are the 
author of the charming little poem, " The Vaudois 
Colporteur," which was translated several years 
ago in French by Professor de Felic^, of Montau- 
ban, and of which there is also an excellent Italian 
translation, made by M. Giovanni Nicolini, Pro- 
fessor of our College at Torre Pellic^. There is 
not a single Vaudois who has received any educa- 
tion who cannot repeat from memory " The Vau- 


dois Colporteur" in French or in Italian. The 
members of the Synod of the Yaudois Church as- 
sembled to the number of about seventy at a pas- 
toral banquet, on Thursday evening, the 9th inst., 
and unanimously voted the motion which I had 
the honor of -proposing, viz. : That we should send 
a very warm Christian fraternal salutation to 
the author of " The Vaudois Colporteur." I was 
intrusted with the duty of conveying this saluta- 
tion to you — a duty which I fulfill with joy, ex- 
pressing at the same time our gratitude to you, 
and also our wish to receive, if possible, from 
yourself the original English, which is still un- 
known to us, of this piece of poetry, which we so 
justly prize. Accept, dear and honored brother, 
these lines of respect and Christian love, from 
your sincere friend in the Lord Jesus, 

J. D. Charbonnier, 
Moderator of the Vaudois Church. 

Mr. Whittier's reply, dated Amesbury, 10th 
mo., 21st, 1876, is in these words : — 

My dear Friend, — I have received thy letter 
informing me of the generous appreciation of my 
little poem by the Synod of which thou art Mod- 
erator. Few events of my life have given me 
greater pleasure. I shall keep the letter amongst 
my most precious remembrances, and it will be a 
joy to me to know that in your distant country, 
and in those sanctuaries of the Alps, consecrated 
by such precious and holy memories, there are 
Christians, men and women, who think of me with 


kindness, and give me a place in their prayers. 
May the dear Lord and Father of us all keep you 
always under His protection. 

The letter of the Moderator wajg intrusted, for 
transmission to Mr. Whittier, to J. B. Braithwaite, 
a well-known English Friend, who chanced to be 
visiting Italy at that time, and who wrote to Mr. 
Whittier from La Tour sur Pignerol : " Being in 
these parts on a visit of Christian love to these 
dear and interesting people, I have been intrusted 
with the pleasing task of forwarding to thee the 
accompanying cordial salutation from the Yaudois 
Pasteurs, assembled at their Synod last week. Thy 
little poem, * The Vaudois Colporteur,' has reached 
their hearts, and awakened a very warm feeling of 
Christian love. The Pasteur Charbonnier, the 
Moderator of the Synod, is a loving, warm-hearted 
Christian, and a man of considerable ability.'* 

" The Vaudois Teacher " had currency in Eng- 
land as being written by Mrs. Hemans, until an 
English edition of Mr. Whittier's works was pub- 
lished in 1842. 

In the winter of 1875, as Mr. and Mrs. Claflin, 
at whose house Whittier had been an honored 
guest, were about sailing for Europe, he handed 
them an envelope, saying, " I thought you might 
like my autograph." These lines were inclosed : 

" What shall I say, dear friends, to whom I owe 
The choicest blessings, dropping from the hands 
Of trostf nl love and friendship, as yon go 
Forth on your jonmey to those older lands, 
By saint and sage and bard and hero trod ? 
Scarcely the simple farewell of the Friends 


SnffioetJi ; after you my full heart Bends 

Such benediction as the pilgrim hears 

Where the Greek faith its golden dome uprears, 

From Crimea^s roses to Archangel snows, 

The fittest prayer of parting : 'GowithGodP" 


12th mo., 1875. 

It was a very good thought of thine to send the 
handsome fireside implement [bellows], so useful 
as well as omjamental. In these times when the 
rascally railroads have cut off our dividends, after 
quarreling with each other until they are in the 
condition of the Kilkenny cats, with nothing but 
the tails of their prosperity left, an instrument for 
" raising the wind " is not undesirable. I had put 
my old asthmatic bellows in the care of a doctor 
skilled in lung diseases of that kind ; as a cure is 
promised, I shall, agreeably to thy direction, make 

a wedding gift of thine. L is highly pleased, 

as she has an open fireplace in her new sitting- 
room, and bids me give thee my warm thanks, 
which she will, by the aid of the bellows, make 
still warmer if thee ever come to Portland. 

The year 1875 is signalized in the Whittier bib- 
liography by the publication of the collection of 
poems entitled ^' Hazel Blossoms," which has a 
reason for its name in the fact that the witch hazel 
throws out its bright yellow twists of spun gold in 
the late autumn; at sixty-eight the poet was 
already thinking of himself as in his "sere and 
yellow leaf," little dreaming that one fifth of his 
life, the best and most useful years, still re- 


mained to him. The principal poem in the col- 
lection is the Charles Sumner ode, the strong, 
stead}^, dignified movement of which is in admir- 
able keeping with its theme, and is unlike the 
usual work of Whittier, in its careful avoidance of 
impassioned utterance. There are probably few 
of his poems which cost him so much labor as was 
bestowed on this. Every stanza in it was recast 
many times. 

In the same year appeared also "Songs of 
Three Centuries ; " in compiling this, assisted by 
Miss Larcom, Whittier was quite rigid in his de- 
termination to exclude warlike poems. For this 
reason he did not at first intend to give Julia 
Ward Howe's '-'Battle Hymn," but proposed to 
represent her by another selection. Afterward he 
wrote to Miss Larcom, " I got over my Quaker 
scruples, or rather stifled them, and put in the 
' Battle Hymn.' " And he added : " It seems to 
me that we have scarcely done justice to Campbell 
— but we can't print his war pieces, and so we 
will let him slide." 


Amesbubt, 2d mo., 16, 1876. 
Thy letter, bright and pleasant as the day on 
which it was written, has just reached me on one 
of the wildest and darkest days of sleet and wind- 
gusts, and very welcome it is. I have been at 
home most of the time this winter, but I spent 
three weeks of last month in Boston, at my old 
quarters in the Marlboro Hotel. I enjoyed being 
in the city, as I always do, though not able to go 


about a great deal. I met Governor Claflin, who 
will return to Europe next month. I miss l^e 
family much when I am in Boston. My cousins 
Joseph and Gertrude Whittier Cartland are stay 
ing with me this winter, having sold their house 
in Providence, B. I. They are now prospecting 
for a new home in the country. My nieoe Lizzie 
is busy getting ready for flitting to Portland, 
where she is going to make a new home for her- 
self and the junior editor of the " Transcript " of 
that city. So I shall be left alone, as I suppose 
an old bachelor should be, but I dare say I shall 
be provided for somehow, as I always have be^i. 


3d mo., 1876. 

I have been about as usual this winter, and the 
company of cousins Joseph and Gertrude Cartland 
has been a great relief to the tediousness of the 
season. We have often spoken of thee and wished 
we could see thee. General Hawley and the chair- 
man of the Centennial Committee came on to see 
me a while ago, wishing me to write the ode or 
poem for the grand occasion, Longfellow having 
given it up. I declined, not ieeling able to go 
through the severe nervous strain of such an effort. 
They have since urged me to write the hymn to 
be sung at the opening, and I shall try to fix up 
something, I suppose. After Joseph and Gertrude 
leave I must make some ai^angement for myself. 
Of course I must keep the old home, but I shall 
spend considerable time with my cousins at Dan- 



Boston, 4th mo., 26, 1876. 
I am here to-day in the worst east wind that 
ever blew in Boston (and that is saying much), at- 
tending the state convention for choice of dele- 
gates to Cincinnati. Lizzie was married a week 
ago to-day. Our small house had to be stretched 
on the occasion. The small rooms and cosy nooks 
answer a very good purpose for courting, but are 
not at all adapted to matrimonial celebrations. It 's 
rather lonely since Lizzie left us. But " such is 
life." . . . Thy poem ["A Faded Glove"] in 
" Harper's " is very sweet and tender in sentiment 
and feeling. It is in a rather new vein, but the 
vigor of the language betrays its authorship. 
Whether thee speak of the sea or not, the strength 
of the wind and waters Is in thy verse. 


It was very kind in thee to think of me in the 
midst of emperors, and mandarins with their but- 
tons, and pachas with many tails, and all that 
grand show and world display at Philadelphia. I 
sent my hymn [the " Centennial Hymn "] with many 
misgivings, and am glad it was so well received. 
I think I should have liked to have heard the 
music, but probably I should not have understood. 
"The gods have made me most unmusical." . . • 
I don't expect to visit Philadelphia. The very 
thought of that Ezekiel's vision of machinery and 
the nightmare confusion of the world's curiosity 
shop appalls me, and I shall not venture myself 
amidst it. 


In 1876, the marriage of his niece, who had 
been at the head of his household since the death 
of his sister, led to Mr. Whittier's acceptance of the 
invitation of his three cousins, the Misses Johnson 
and Mrs. Woodman,^ to make his home with them 
during part of the year. They had recently pur- 
chased the beautiful estate in Danvers, for which 
Mr. Whittier had suggested the name of " Oak 
Knoll." It* was a farm of sixty acres, to which 
some acres have been added since the purchase in 
1875. It is upon an old road between Boston and 
Newburyport, not the main line of travel. Upon 
this place lived the Rev. George Burroughs, who 
suffered death as a wizard two hundred years ago. 
The well of his homestead is still shown under the 
boughs of an immense elm by the roadside. The 
house now upon the estate stands on elevated 
ground at considerable distance from the road, and 
with its great Doric pillars has a somewhat stately 
effect, although constructed entirely of wood. In 
front of the house, and completely encircled by 
the curving approaches, is a picturesque knoll in 
the form of a dome, covered with a luxuriant car- 
pet of grass, making one of the most charming 
lawns it is possible to imagine. This knoll, the 
summit of which is a little higher than the site 
occupied by the house, is crowned by two magnifi- 
cent trees, an oak and a hickory. The estate 
might well have been named for either of these 
noble trees. The grounds slope towards the east, 

1 These three sisters are granddaughters of Mr. Whittier's 
uncle, Obadiah Whittier, an older brother of his father, John 


the south, and the west, with just enough of irreg- 
ularity to heighten the beauty of the landscape in 
each direction. Trees, in clumps and singly, de- 
ciduous and evergreen, are placed with careful ref- 
erence to artistic effect. The variety of trees is 
great, many of them being rarely seen in New 
England. There is a fine magnolia near the 
house, and farther off a tulip-tree. The rich dark 
hue of a purple beech calls attention to a fine 
grove in the western distance. There are Eng- 
lish elms and English oaks, an immense Norway 
spruce,^ also hemlocks, pines, chestnuts, and al- 
most every other tree that can be made to grow in 
this climate. There are great orchards of apples 
and pears ; a garden flanked with luxuriant grape- 
vines, and yielding all the smaller fruits, as a mat- 
ter of course, also roses in abundance. Near the 
eastern piazza of the house is a large circular flower 
garden surrounded by a neat hedge, with great 
green arches for gateways to it. In the centre of 
this garden is a fountain throwing a fine spray to 
a considerable height. 

No shooting is allowed on the estate, and squir- 
rels and birds sometimes come to the window to 
be fed. 

Mr. Whittier in the summer time took much 
pleasure in these grounds, which gave him the 
seclusion he desired, and the opportunity for ex- 
ercising some of the old skill that as a farmer he 
had acquired on his ancestral acres at Haverhill. 
The love of trees, plants, and flowers had ever been 
a passion of his life, and the ways of birds and 
1 Named by Dr. Holmes, " The Poet's Pagoda." 


other wildlings interested him. The dogs upon 
the place became his pets. He enjoyed also the 
companionship of a young girl, an adopted daugh- 
ter of Mrs. Woodman. For several years he spent 
a large part of the time at Oak EiioU, going to 
Amesbury to vote, to look after his little estate 
there, to mingle with his old friends and neighbors, 
to care for his dependents, to greet his Quaker 
friends at the Quarterly Meetings, and to have a 
hand in local politics. With advancing old age 
he turned oftener to his Amesbury home, and to 
his cousins, the Cartlands, at Newburyport, whom 
he accompanied year by year to his favorite sum- 
mer resorts among the mountains and lakes of 
New Hampshire. Toward the last of his life he 
spent only a few weeks in the year at Danvers, 
manifesting more and more a desire to be at or 
near the home consecrated by memories of his 
mother and sister. 

Early in 1876, Mr. Whittier was called upon to 
write the ode for the Centennial Exposition at 
Philadelphia (not the hymn to be sung at the 
opening, which he afterward wrote, but the ode 
for the Fourth of July occasion). He declined to 
undertake this, as also did Bryant, Lowell, and 
Holmes, and Bayard Taylor was at length per- 
suaded to write it. But Taylor had already writ- 
ten the hymn for the opening, and when he under- 
took the ode he withdrew this hymn. Whittier 
was then urged by Commissioners Hawley and 
Morrill to write the hymn, but was unwiUing to 
promise to do it. Bayard Taylor added his en- 
treaties, in the following letter, dated New York, 
March 21: — 


My deab Friend, — Let me, at the risk of 
being a nuisance, add my voice to that of Hawley 
and Morrill, and beg that you will write the hymn 
for the opening of the Centennial Exhibition I I 
was chosen for the task, two months ago, and the 
hymn was complete, when the heavier duty of the 
ode devolved upon me, through the failure of so 
many better men to accept it. I know that this 
honor came to me chiefly through the kind sug- 
gestion of my name by you and Holmes. I feel it 
as a great responsibility, but I do not dare to de- 
cline, and shall both pray and labor to do the work, 

Of course the acceptance of the ode obliged me 
to withdraw the hymn. It would never answer 
for one author to do both. Moreover, I repre- 
sent Pennsylvania, the cantata for the opening is 
furnished by Georgia, and the hymn must come 
from New England. Among American poets, you 
are by nature the high priest and thus .fitted 
for this task. I wrote but five six-line stanzas, in 
the measure of Addison's " spacious firmament; " 
but five four-line stanzas — twenty lines in all — 
would really be sufficient. As it will be simg by 
a large chorus, and the personal presence of the 
author is not necessary, I cannot help but appeal 
to you as a dear old friend, as one who lmow4s 
Pennsylvania, and as a true American, to help in 
this emergency. Knowing the state of your health, 
I was not surprised that you declined the ode, — 
/but I am both surprised and mortified that Bryant, 
Lowell, and Holmes also declined. (Longfellow 
had a valid reason.) I anticipate being abused over 


the shoulders of the commission, as well as upon 
my own ; for the absence of our best names in song 
will not be generally understood. If you will only 
contribute the hymn it will cheer, strengthen, and 
dignify us all. 

On the 22d of March, Mr. Whittier replied: 
'^ I have n't an idea in my head, and if I had, my 
head, possessed by the fiend Neuralgia, is in no 
condition to make it available. I am glad thee 
are to write the ode. It is right and fitting every 
way, and thee will do it grandly. As for the 
hymn, will thee do me the very great favor to 
send me a copy of thy draft of it? I want 
something suggestive to look at, before I decide to 
try to do anything ; and I shall delay answering 
General Hawley's note until I hear from thee. Let 
me hear from thee by return mail." 

This note came from Mr. Taylor by the next 
mail : " Your letter of yesterday just received, 
and I am delighted to find in it a wish to under- 
take the task. I most willingly send the hymn I 
had written, but have since withdrawn. Do not 
hesitate to make free use of any idea of mine 
which may seem appropriate. I shall be very glad 
indeed if I am able, in this way, to furnish kin- 
dling-wood for your fire. And that is all my hymn 
is worth now, since I shall suppress it wholly. 
April will surely be a balmier month than this 
March, and if you see but a single bud swell- 
ing, say ' Yes ! * and it will surely open before 

On the 25th, Whittier wrote : " Take my 


thanks for thy prompt sending of thy hymn.^ It 
is too good, and almost discourages me. I want to 
beg, borrow, or steal from thee two lines, slightly 
changed : — 

" ^ And unto common good ordain 
The rivalries of hand and brain.' 

I covet more, but my conscience won't let me shoot 
any more in thy preserves. I am delighted with 

^ Mrs. Taylor has kindly permitted the publication in these 
pages of her late husband's Centennial Hymn, never before in 
print: — 

" O God of Peace ! now o'er the world 
The armies rest, with banners furled : 
O God of ToU I beneath thy sight 
The toiling nations here unite ; 
O God of Beauty, bend and see 
The Beautiful that shadows Thee! 

** Our land, young hostess of the West, 
Now first in festal raiment dressed, 
Inyites from every realm and clime 
Her sisters of the elder time, 
And bare of shield, ungirt by sword, 
Bids welcome to her boimteoiks board. 

** Thy will, dear Father, gave to each 
The force of hand, the fire of speech ; 
Thy guidance led from low to high, 
ICade failure still in triumph die. 
And set for all, in fields apart, 
The oak of Toil, the rose of Art t 

^ What though, within thy plan sublime, 
Our eras are the diist of time, 
Tet unto later good ordain 
This rivalry of hand and brain, 
And bless, through power and wisdom won, 
The peaceful cycle here begun t 

*' Let each with each his bounty spend. 
New knowledge borrow, beauty lend t 
Let each in each more nobly see 
Thyself in him, his faith in Thee : 
All conquering power Thy gift divine, 
All glory but the seal of Thine ! " 


the idea of thy writing tlie ode. It needs thy 
combination of patriot and cosmopolitan to do it 
aright. I will indorse thee in advance, and so 
will Holmes, Longfellow, and Fields." 

Bayard Taylor immediately replied : " Take all 
you Want and welcome ! There are some expres- 
sions which any hymn for the occasion must in- 
clude ; and such should be considered common 
property. I am only too glad to be of service in 
this way ; my own hymn could in no case be pub- 
lished. . . . Thanks for your good wishes about 
the ode. It gives me the feeling of being about 
to storm an imminent deadly breach, — but if I 
fall, I am determined it shall be face forwards. 
The general acceptance of the appointment has 
been very kind." 

On the 6th of July, 1876, Whittier wrote: 
'^ Let me heartily congratulate thee on thy noble 
and lofty-toned ode. It is in full accordance 
and keeping with the great occasion, and will 
link thy name honorably with it forever. I felt 
sure thee could do full justice to the theme, and I 
am sure all will agree with me that thee have done 
so. I wish I could have heard thy recitation of it." 

Dom Pedro, emperor of Brazil, became ac- 
quainted with the writings of Mr. Whittier in 
1855, and ever after that date welcomed each new 
volume of his, so long as he lived. When he vis- 
ited the United States in 1876, the emperor was 
especially anxious to meet Longfellow and Whit- 
tier, and the Quaker poet was equally desirous of 
an interview with the Brazilian statesman and 
philanthropist, through whom there was then hope 


of the abolition of the last vestige of slavery on 
the American continents. On the 8th of June, 
Mr, Whittier wrote to J. T. Fields : — 

" Will the Atlantic Club have Dom Pedro as 
its guest? It has occurred to me that he would 
like it better than being toted about, looking at 
Boston public buildings. I would like very well 
to meet him, though I don't speak any language 
but my own, and that not very well. If he could 
only do as other folks do, I should like to have 
thee and Mrs. F. escort him here, where we could 
see him apart from the fuss and feathers of cere- 
mony, for an hour or two. But owing to the 
^ divinity that doth hedge a king,' that can't be, of 
course. ... I shall not try to reach him through 
the double wall of Boston and court etiquette. 
He is a splendid man, let alone his title and rank." 

Mrs. Claflin gives this account of Whittier's first 
interview with the emperor : — 

" Dom Pedro was invited one morning to a pri- 
vate parlor to meet some of the men who have made 
Boston famous in the world of letters. As one 
after another was presented to him, he received 
each graciously, but without enthusiasm. But 
when Mr. Whittier's name was annoimced his face 
suddenly lighted up, and grasping the poet's hand, 
he made a gesture as though he would embrace 
him, but seeing that to be contrary to the custom, 
he passed his arm through that of Mr. Whittier, 
and drew him gently to a comer, where he remained 
with him, absorbed in conversation, until the time 
came to leave. The emperor, taking the poet's 
hand in both h^s own again, bade him a reluctant 


farewell, and turned to leave the room, but still 
unsatisfied, lie was heard to say, ^ Come with me,' 
and they passed slowly down the staircase, his arm 
around Mr. Whittier." 


Isles of SnoAiii, Tth mo., 1876. 
The intense heat has driven me here for a few 
days, but the same cause has crowded these rocks, 
so that there is little more than standing room for 
us. I have to thank thee for two letters, the last 
inclosing the " Tribune's " report of the reception 
of Dom Pedro. It was kind in Bayard Taylor to 
quote my verses on the occasion. I heartily wish 
thee could be here this beautiful morning. I know 
by its heat-hazed outline that the coast is scorch- 
ing, but a gentle southwest wind, cooled by blow- 
ing over twelve miles of sea, keeps us comfortable. 
The only trouble is there are rather too many of 
us, especially at the dinner tables. I believe there 
are about five hundred guests at the Appledore 
House. May I n(tt hope to see thee this summer ? 
My niece is keeping house very pleasantly in 
Portland, but I have two cousins at my house in 
Amesbury, and I should be glad to see thee there. 
I had a line from dear Mrs. Claflin, but have not 
yet seen her. I have not felt able to get to New- 
tonville these tropic days, most of which I have 
spent at my half-way house, at Oak Knoll, in 
Danvers, midway between Amesbury and Boston. 

In a letter to Mrs. Child, written in 1876, Mr. 
Whittier says of Colonel Shaw : " I know of no- 


thing nobler or grander than the heroic self-sacri- 
fice of young Colonel Shaw. The only regiment I 
ever looked upon during the war was the 54th, 
colored, on its departure for the South. I shall 
never forget the scene. As he rode at the head of 
his troops, the very flower of grace and chivalry, 
he seemed to me beautiful and awful as an angel 
of God come down to lead the host of freedom to 
victory. I have longed to speak the emotions of 
that hour, but I dared not, lest I should indirectly 
give a new impulse to war. For his parents I feel 
that reverence which belongs to the highest mani- 
festation of devotion to duty and forgetfulness of 
self, in view of the weighty interests of humanity. 
There must be a noble pride in their great sorrow. 
I am sure they would not exchange their dead son 
for any living one." 

A favorite summer resort of Mr. Whittier, for 
many years previous to the burning of the hotel, 
was the Bearcamp House at West Ossipee, N. H. 
Several poems celebrate this region, including 
" Among the Hills," " Sunset on the Bearcamp," 
" Seeking the Waterfall," and the " Voyage of the 
Jettie." The inn was sometimes nearly filled with 
the relatives and friends of the poet, and these 
reunions were occasions of memorable enjoyment. 
Mr. Whittier could not accompany his friends in 
their mountain-climbing and drives, to distant ob- 
jects of interest, but he found enough to occupy his 
attention close at hand, and he especially enjoyed 
the reports of adventures that were brought to 
him by the younger members of his party. At 
this hotel, as at home, he took charge of the fires, 


and of an evening would have his friends grouped 
around the ample hearth, joining with zest in all 
the «port in which they indulged. In the summer 
of 1876, when he and Lucy Laroom were engaged 
together in the compilation of the *' Songs of 
Three Centuries," their work was brought to the 
Bearcamp House, but it was not allowed to inter- 
fere seriously with the main object of a summer 
outing, rest and recreation. Sometimes, a tran- 
sient guest of the hotel would be invited to join the 
circle, but Mr. Whittier was usually under some 
constraint in the presence of a stranger, especially 
if there was any show of a reporting pencil. 


Beabcahp Rivbb House, 30ili, 8ih mo., 18*76. 
Thee must come up now ; don't disappoint us 
all. Come and help eat our bear, which was killed 
two or three days ago on Chocorua. We have had 
nice tender and sweet steaks from him ; and there 
is another old fellow on the highest peak of Ossi- 
pee mountain, who lately came down across the 
meadows here, to the cornfield. He has his den 
somewhere up there. Come and join us before 
our company is broken up. 


lOth mo., 1876. 
I have spent a large part of the summer at 
Danvers very quietly, " the world forgetting, by 
the world forgot," unable to write or read much, 
spending the hot idays under the pines, and f uUy 
realizing that the country can get on very well 


without me. I only wished more o£ my friends of 
old days could be with me. For as the years pass 
and one slides so rapidly down the afternoon slope 
of life, until the dark and chill of the evening 
shadows rest upon him, he longs for the hands and 
voices of those who, in the morning, went up on the 
7ther side with him. The awful mysteries of life 
and nature sometimes almost overwhelm me. 
"What, Where, Whither?" These questions 
sometimes hold me breathless. How little after all 
do we know 1 And the soul's anchor of Faith can 
only grapple fast upon two or three things, and 
first and surest of all upon the Fatherhood of God. 
Joseph and Gertrude Cartland have bought a 
pleasant place in Newburyport and like it- very 
much. I am glad they are so near. I am reading 
Dr. Norman McLeod's Life — one of the most 
interesting of books — sweet, earnest, playful, full 
of love and good works, enlivened all along with 
poetry and Scotch humor. 


AmbsbubY) lOth mo., 30, 1876. 
No, I am not going to Newburyport. It is pass- 
ing droll to see how the newspapers dispose of me 
this season. First, I am domiciled at Peabody ; 
next, I was buying a residence in Portland ; then I 
was dwelling in my cottage at the Shoals, secluded 
from everybody ; tiien I am spending the summer 
at Martha's Vineyard as the guest of Dr. Some- 
hody whom I never heard of ; and now it seems I 
am in Newburyport! Was there ever such a 
Wandering Jew ? A fellow in New York, the son 


of a United States Senator, wrote me not long ago 
that as he understood I was well off and had a 
summer cottage on the Isles of Shoals, he wished 
me to let him have $200, as he was very hardly 
pressed for money I I wish I could go to sleep 
and wake up and find myself in the West Indies 
or Lower California. My cousins, the Cartlands, 
are located at Newburyport. They have bought 
and fitted up the house at the comer of High 
Street and Broad, where they will be glad to see 


In this country thy husband's memory is cher- 
ished by thousands, who, after long admiring the 
genius of the successful author, have learned, in 
his brief visit, to love him as a man. I shall never 
forget my first meeting with him in Boston. I 
began, naturally enough, to speak of his literary 
work, when he somewhat abruptly turned the con- 
versation upon the great themes of life and duty. 
The solemn questions of a future life, and the final 
destiny of the race, seemed pressing upon him, not 
so much for an answer (for he had solved them 
all by simple faith in the divine goodness) as for 
the sympathetic response of one whose views he 
believed to be, in a great degree, coincident with 
his own. "I sometimes doubt and distrust my- 
self," he said, " but I see some hope for everybody 
else. To me the gospel of Christ seems indeed 
good tidings of great joy to all people ; and I 
think we may safely trust the mercy which en- 
dureth /brcver." It impressed me deeply to find 


the world-renowned author ignoring his literary 
fame, unobservant of the strange city whose streets 
he was treading for the first time, and engaged 
only with " thoughts that wander through eternity." 
All I saw of him left upon me the feeling that I 
was in contact with a powerfully earnest and rev- 
erent spirit. His heart seemed overcharged with 
interest in the welfare, physical, moral, and spirit- 
ual, of his race* I was conscious in his presence of 
the bracing atmosphere of a noble nature. He 
seemed to me one of the manliest of men. I for- 
bear to speak of the high estimate which, in com- 
mon with all English-speaking people, I place 
upon his literary life-work. My copy of his 
" Hypatia " is worn by frequent perusal, and the 
echoes of his rare and beautiful lyrics never die 
out of my memory. But since I have seen him^ 
the man seems greater than the author. 

This is an extract from Mrs. Kingsley's reply : 
" He wrote to me (while in America) in such 
terms of love and appreciation of you, and twice 
repeated it was ' such a like-minded talk ' he had 
with you. It did so refresh him. I shall always 
bless and thank you, and every one who gave him 
a moment's refreshing in the dusty road of life I 
And I do bless, and shall ever love, the dear 
American people who first appreciated his works 
and then welcomed their author so lovingly. . . . 
I thank you deeply once more, and hope in that 
other life I may know you and meet you, with my 



llUi mo., 4, I&IH 

I feel anxious about the election. I think Hayes 
would be a safer man than Tilden, for the next 
four years. Tilden, however he might feel and 
wish, €ould not control his party. I hope I shall 
be able to vote, for I would n't like to lose my vote 
at thi^ time. I have written a little poem which 
will appear in the February " Atlantic," which I 
hope thee will like. Did thee not say that thy an- 
cestor was one of the suspected in the old witch 
times ? My piece is entitled " The Witch of Wen- 


2d mo,, 22, 18T7. 

I have not read Joseph Cook's letters carefully, 
but a hasty perusal of two of them gave me the 
impression of a good deal of ability and smartness 
on the part of the author. After all, there is no 
great use in arguing the question of immortality. 
One must feel its truth. You cannot climb into 
heaven on a syllogism. Moody and Sankey are 
busy in Boston. The papers give the discourses of 
Mr. Moody, which seem rather cominonplace and 
poor, but the man is in earnest, and believes in 
all the literalness of the Bible and of John Calvin. 
I hope he will do good, and believe that he will 
reach and move some who could not be touched by 
James Freeman Clarke or Phillips Brooks. I can- 
not accept his theology, or part of it at least, and 
his methods are not to my taste. But if he can 
make the drunkard, the gambler, and the de- 
bauchee into decent men, and make the lot of their 


weariful wives and cHildren less bitter, I bid him 
God-speed. Anything that lessens the sin of our 
poor humanity, any approximation to the life and 
spirit of the Divine Master, is to be rejoiced over. 
I feel more the need of a deeper consecration to 
truth and duty, on the part of all who profess to 
be Christians, than of putting any obstacles in the 
way of such a man. I like his aim better than his 

Whittier once said: "It is one thing to hold 
fast the faith of our fathers, the creed of the free- 
dom-loving Puritan and Huguenot, and quite an- 
other to set up the five points of Calvinism, like so 
many thunder-rods, over a bad life, in the insane 
hope of avoiding the divine displeasure ; " and 
again : " There is something in the doctrine of 
total depravity and regeneration. We are bom 
selfish. The discipline of life develops the higher 
qualities of character, in a greater or less degree. 
It is the conquering of innate selfish propensities 
that makes the saint ; and the giving up unduly 
to impulses that in their origin are necessary to the 
preservation of life that makes the sinner." 

In 1877, Hon. Eobert S. Kantoul, then residing 
at Stuttgart, was active in promoting an effort 
among the Americans and English to build a 
monument to Freiligrath, who died the year be- 
fore. He called upon Mr. Whittier for a poem to 
be read at the dedication, and received this reply : 
" Thy letter has just reached me ; too late, I fear, 
for the occasion to which it refers. I would gladly, 
were I able, send a word for the anniversary ; afi 


it is, I beg the privilege of contributing my mite 
for the proposed monument to the memory of the 
poet-patriot, Freiligrath. I need scarcely say that 
I have been in hearty sympathy with him, as the 
foremost liberal poet of his time. In the dark 
days of our anti-slavery struggle, his brave words 
for universal freedom have cheered and streng^- 
ened me. . . . The bells are ringing in the new Re- 
publican President, Rutherford B. Hayes, in whose 
cabinet the German-born Carl Schurz has a place. 
His inaugural is a brief but noble document, and 
we hope excellent things from him." 


7th mo., 16, 18T7. 

I do not know on what part of this planet thy 
blessed feet are resting at this moment, but I ven- 
ture to send a line to Ashantee, just to tell thee 
that I have enjoyed thy mischievous political let- 
ters, though not always able to say " Amen " to 
them. Their art is " just splendid," as a school- 
girl would say. Stanley Matthews, who is really 
a fine fellow, and smart enough to appreciate a 
good thing even at his expense, must have tem- 
pered the vexation of thy epistle with a full sense 
of the capital fun and humor of it. The humbug 
of Reform is no better than other humbugs, but I 
am naturally inclined to think the best I can of all 
who claim to be trying to set.the world aright. 

And I have just conversed with thee in another 
shape — that of a theologian. I read thy little 
book ^ with deep interest and earnest sympathy. 

1 What Think Ye of Christ f 


My own mind had, from the same evidence which 
thee adduce, become convinced of the Divinity of 
Christ ; but I cannot look upon him as other than 
a man like ourselves, through whom the Divine 
was made miraculously manifest. Jesus of Naza- 
reth was a man, the Christ was a God — - a new 
revelation of the Eternal in Time. Thy book 
»eems to me written with wonderful clearness and 
ability, and will command the respect and atten- 
tion of the best thinkers. 

And now Proteus takes a new form, and a very 
pleasant and fascinating one. I took up thy novel * 
last nighty and, despite of aching head and eyes, 
read it straight through, and laid it down with 
regret that it was not longer. What a noble hero 
thee has made of the unsensational banker ! The 
portrait of him is charming. His self-forgetting 
and self-restraining delicacy of feeling towards the 
bewildered and blinded young wife is a needed 
lesson to all who think the mere marriage cere- 
mony gives them absolute right to the soul and 
body of another. I like the book entirely. I wish 
thee would sometimes look in upon me at Oak 
Knoll, where I shall be for the next six weeks. 
When thee are in Salem, the cars will take thee to 
within a short mile of us, and the coach is ready 
to take thee to our door. At any rate, here or 
there, staying or coming, politician, novelist, or 
theologian, — God bless thee ! 

Our dear Mrs. could not disguise herself 

as . Mrs. Leveridge. I knew her, as FalstafP did 
Prince Hal, — by instinct! 

. 1 First Love is Best. 



6th, 7th mo., 18T7. 

I am more and more astonished that such a 
man as Confucius could have made his appear^ 
ance amidst the dull and dreary commonplaces of 
his people. No wiser soul ever spoke of right and 
duty, — but his maxims have no divine sanction, 
and his pictures of a perfect society have no per- 
spectives opening to eternity. Our Dr. Franklin 
was quite of the Confucius order — though a very 
much smaller man. 

Whittier once said: "I think every child 
should cling to the faith of its parents until it 
learns something' better. The heathen, until they 
know something better, should cling to the faith 
of their parents. I can conceive of their being in 
such a state of mind that they would gladly re- 
ceive the tinith of Christ, if it came to them, and 
Gk>d will give them credit. for that. In fact, I 
don't know but that the Hindus, swinging on their 
flesh-hooks, and others like them, are doing the 
best they know. They want to get rid of their 
sins in some way. But on the other hand, there 
are some who make faith everything. I have been 
in the habit of reading a paper published by Dr. 
Cullis, of Boston, But I don't place much credit 
in the answers to prayer there stated. He, gets his 
contributions just as many other institutions do» 
Here is a man who has $100 to give to benevolence, 
and he gives it, giving the Doctor $25, the mission- 
ary society $25, etc. Dr. Cullis publishes that hia 

1 Aboat Samuel Johnson's Oriental Religions. 


came in answer to prayer. So does the other just 
as much. . • . When men put faith on the mate- 
rial ground, who can wonder that Tyndall should 
propose a prayer test ? I cannot help believing in 
prayer for spiritual things. Being fully possessed 
of Christ, then it is He that prays. The heartiest 
prayer is to pray, ' Thy will be done.' I have 
seen some who profess to have attained perfection 
according to their ideas, but I do not believe it 
possible to get it, to be sinless. None other than a 
perfect standard could be given toward which to 
aim. A woman came to me who said she came 
because she was sent. ' If thee are sent of God,* 
I said to her, * then thee are welcome ; I will wel-. 
com^ anything from Grod.' I asked her, ' Have 
thee no concern about thyself as compared with 
the infinite purity of God?' 'That is not the 
question that concerns me,' said she ; ' I have 
shifted the whole responsibility on to Christ.' I 
answered that I thought that it would have been 
a singular event if, when Christ told the disciples 
to watch and pray, they had said, ' We have 
shifted that over to you, and it does not further 
concern us.' I asked the woman what her neigh- 
bors thought of her, but she did not answer this 
pertinent inquiry." 




Upon the approach of the seventieth anniver- 
sary of Whittier's birth, the " Literary World " 
published, in its issue of December 1, 1877, a 
remarkable array of tributes in verse and prose. 
Longfellow led off the singing choir with his 
charming sonnet, "The Three Silences ;" Bayard 
Taylor sent " A Friend's Greeting," and E. C. 
Stedman, " Ad Vatem." Dr. Holmes, Paul H. 
Hayne, J. G. Holland, G. P. Lathrop, Hiram 
Sich, William Lloyd Garrison, Lydia Maria 
Child, James Freeman Clarke, W. S. Shurtleff, 
Celia Thaxter, Charlotte F. Bates, Elizabeth 
Stuart Phelps, Lucy Larcom, Israel Washburn, 
Jr., Henry Morford, C. P. Cranch, and Thomas S. 
Collier sent poems. Letters full of warm friend- 
ship and deep respect came from the venerable 
Bichard H. Dana, W. C. Bryant, George Bancroft, 
Harriet Beecher Stowe, Francis Parkman, T. 
W. Higginson, Charles W. Eliot, Kobert CoUyer, 
George William Curtis, and Charles B. Eice. 
Such an array of great names in literature had 
not before been seen together in a single number 
of an American journal. Whittier was deeply 
touched by this outpouring of the hearts of his 


literary friends, and uttered his characteristic 
" Response " in the sonnet beginning : " Beside 
that milestone where the level sun." This unique 
symposium was followed on the 17th of December 
by a dinner given at Hotel Brunswick, in Boston, 
by the publishers of the " Atlantic Monthly," to 
the contributors to that magazine, in honor of 
Whittier, who was with difficulty induced to at- 
tend the festival in person.^ Mr. H. O. Houghton 
presided, with Whittier, Emerson, and Long- 
fellow at his right, and Holmes, Howells, and 
Warner at his left. Among the guests were Hig- 
ginson, Stoddard, Whipple, Weiss, J. T, Trow- 
bridge, John Trowbridge, Underwood, Scudder, 
O'Reilly, Cranch, Clemens, and about fifty others. 
Mr. Houghton gave a brief history of the maga- 
zine, which was celebrating its twentieth anniver- 
sary. He introduced Whittier, and the entire 
company arose and cheered. When the cheering 
had subsided, Mr. Whittier said, slowly, and with 
some natural embarrassment in a situation so new 
to him : — 

" You must know you are not to expect a speech 
from me to-night. I can only say that I am very 
glad to meet with my friends of the ^ Atlantic,' a 
great many contributors to which I have only 
known through their writings, and that I thank 
them for the reception they have given me. 
When I supposed that I would not be able to 

1 When he got word about this proposed banquet, he wrote to 
his niece : " They are wanting to make a fuss over my birthday 
on the 17th. I think I have put a stop to it. It is bad enough 
to be old, without being twitted of it." 


attend this ceremony, I placed in my friend Long- 
fellow's hands a little bit of verse that I told him, 
if it were necessary, I wished he would read. My 
voice is of ' a timorous nature and rarely to be 
heard above the breath.' Mr. Longfellow will do 
me tlie favor to read the writing. I shall be very 
much obliged to him, and hope at his ninetieth 
anniversary some of the younger men will do as 
much for him." 

Longfellow then read the ^^ Response," Emerson 
read Whittier's '^ Ichabod," and speeches were made 
by Howells, Charles Eliot Norton, Warner, Higgin- 
son, W. W. Story, and others. Dr. Holmes read 
the poem in which he speaks of Whittier as ^^ the 
wood-thrush of Essex." Bichard Henry Stoddard 
read a sonnet to Whittier, which was notable as the 
cordial utterance of a political opponent. 

The same anniveraary was observed at Whit- 
tier's home in Amesbury, at Danvers, and in other 
places. The ladies of Amesbury sent him a port- 
folio of water-color sketches of places immortal- 
ized in his verse. The newspapers of every part 
of the counlay made the occasion the theme of ex- 
tended, comment, giving the record of his useful 
life, extolling his unselfish patriotism, his devotion 
to the cause of the oppressed, and the character 
and purity^ of his verse. The pulpit discoursed 
upon his songs of charity and piety. This chorud 
of praise, f r6m every quarter, affected Mr. Whit- 
tier deeply. It gratified him to know that the 
love he had given out for his race was coming 
back to him in full measure. But he knew so thor- 
oughly his own limitations and weaknesses that he 


discounted the extravagances of adulation, and 
accepted only what he had reason to think be- 
longed to him. It was in no insincere spirit he 
wrote or said his modesi^ words of acknowledg- 
ment. To the citizens of Amesbury who had sent 
him a letter of high appreciation and warm affec- 
tion he wrote : — 

" Forty years ago I came to dwell among you, 
although the place of worship which I have always 
frequented, within the bounds of the village, had 
made me familiar with it from early childhood. 
I can testify to the uninterrupted kindly and 
friendly relation^ which have existed between us 
during that long period. You have known me 
thoroughly ; my whole life, with its faults, follies, 
and better characteristics, has been before you in 
the daily intercourse of citizens and neighbors ; 
and qualified as you are to judge, it is an un- 
speakable satisfaction to know that you can render 
so favorable a verdict. You will, I know, pardon 
me if I say that while the praise, which in the 
excess of your kindness you have bestowed upon 
me, has been very grateful to me, it has awakened 
a painful sense of my unworthiness to receive it 
vrfthout great qualification. I beg you, my old 
friends !of Amesbury and Salisbury, to accept my 
warmest thanks for this testimonial, and for the 
delicate and considerate manner of its presenta- 
tion. Circumstances may make our intercourse 
somewhat less constant and familiar than in for- 
mer years, but your interests and welfare are 
mine ; there is not a face among you that I shall 
not always be glad to see ; not a rod of soil on the 


Merrimac or the Powow that I shall not be happy 
to retread ; and about my hearth-fire in the old 
house on Friend Street I shall still hope often to 
meet you, as long as Providence, which haa^ spared 
me hitherto, shall prolong my days." 

The birthday number of the " Literary World " 
contained this anecdote from a contributor, illus- 
trating Whittier's hospitality : — 

" When I was a young man, trying to get an 
education, I went about the country peddling 
sewing silk to help myself through college; and 
one Saturday night found me at Amesbury, a 
stranger and without a lodging-place. It hap- 
pened that the first house at which I called was 
Whittier's, and he himself came to the door. On 
hearing my request he said he was very sorry that 
he could not keep me, but it was Quarterly Meet- 
ing, and his house was full. He, however, took 
the trouble to show me to a neighbor's, where he 
left me ; but that did not seem to wholly suit his 
idea of hospitality, for in the course of the even- 
ing he made his appearance, saying that it had 
occurred to him that he could sleep on a lounge 
and give up his own bed to me — which, it is 
perhaps needless to say, was not allowed. But 
this was not all. The next morning he came 
again, with the suggestion that I might perhaps 
like to attend meeting, inviting me to go with 
him ; and he gave me a seat next to himself. The 
meeting lasted an hour, during which there was 
not a word spoken by any one. We all sat in 
silence that length of time, then all arose, shook 
hands, and dispersed ; and I remember it as one 
of the best meetings I ever attended." 


After Mr. Whittier had passed the Scriptural 
Kmit of active life, each of his birthdays was more 
or less celebrated by his friends and admirers 
throughout the country. In churches, schools, and 
seminaries commemoratory exercises were held. 
Wherever he happened to be, whether at Ames- 
bury, or Dan vers, or Newburyport, the tributes of 
a grateful people reached him. Sometimes, when 
he felt that he was not strong enough to receive 
his friends so hospitably as he could wish, he would 
quietly slip from one of his homes to another, and 
thus secure the quiet his health demanded. But 
when he enjoyed sufficient health and strength, he 
did not object to giving his friends an opportunity 
to offer their congratulations in person. When a 
reception proved to be too fatiguing, he was skill- 
ful in devising excuses for short absences from tho 
crowded rooms, and in the quiet of his chamber 
he would soon get rid of a threatened headache, 
or mitigate the intensity of his suffering, and ap- 
pear again among his guests ready to enjoy and 
respond to their greetings. 

Soon after the celebration of his seventieth 
birthday, Mr. Whittier wrote to his friend, Julia 
A. Hodgdon : " Of course, I prize highly the love 
and good will of others, but the thing was too pre- 
tentious, and had too much publicity to be alto- 
gether pleasant. Over-praise pains like blame. I 
know my own weakness and frailty, and I am 
humbled rather than exalted by homage which I 
do not deserve. As the swift years pass, the Eter- 
jial Realities seem taking the place of the shadowy 
and illusions of time." 



4th mo., 7, 18T8. 
I agree with Canon Farrar that " life is worth 
liying/^ even if one cannot sleep the biggest part 
of it away. Thee and I get more out of it, after 
all, than those *^ sleek-headed folks who sleep o' 
nights.". . . Against all my natural inclinations, 
I have been fighting for the " causes," half my life. 
"Woe is me, my mother," I can say with the old 
prophet, " who hast borne me a man of strife and 
contention." I have suflPered dreadfully from 
coarseness, self-seeking vanity, and asinine stupid- 
ity among associates, as well as from the coldness 
or open hostility, and, worst, the ridicule of the 
outside world, but I now see that it was best, and 
that I needed it alL 


Boston, Jane 10, 1878. 

My deab Whittier, — 'T was very kind in you 
to tell me that my Andover poem pleased you. I 
wrote the poem rather as a duty than as a pleasure, 
and yet here and there I found myself taken off 
my feet by that sudden influx of a tide that comes 
from, we know not whence, but which makes being, 
and especially internal vision, so intense and real. 
You, as a poet, know so well what that means I But 
I will give a trivial illustration, which, to my mind, 
is much better than a grander one. In the inten- 
sified state of retrospection which came over me, a 
fact reproduced itself which I do not believe has 
come up before ybr Jifiy years. It was the " up- 
ward slanting floor " of the school-room at the 


Academy. Not a poetical fact, and all the better 
for tliat, — not an important one, but still a fact 
which had its place in the old fresco that seemed 
to have utterly faded from the walls of memory. 
What an exalted state of vitality that is which 
thus reproduces obsolete trivialities as a part of its 
vivid picture-flashes, — just as in the experience, a 
hundred times recorded, of drowning persons who 
have been rescued! We may become intensely 
conscious of existence through pleasure or through 
pain, but we never know ourselves until we have 
tried both . experiences, and I think that some of 
the most real moments of life are those in which 
we are seized upon by that higher power which 
takes the rudder out of the hands of will as the 
pilot takes the place of the captain, in entering 
some strange harbor, — and I am sure I never 
know where I am going to be landed, from the 
moment I find myself in the strange hands of the 
unknown power that has taken control of me. 
Not that there is much, if any, of what is called 
^^ inspiration " in the particular poem that pleases 
you ; but there are passages, for all that, which I 
could not write, except in the clairvoyant condi- 
tion. ... To cover my egotisms, let me say to 
you unhesitatingly that you have written the most 
beautiful school-boy poem in the English language. 
I just this moment read it, because I was writing 
to you, and before I had got through " In School- 
Days," the tears were rolling out of my eyes. . . . 
Yes, I need not have said all this to you, as if you 
did not know it all, — perhaps I said it because you 
know it so well. ... I am glad you are interested 


in Dr. Clarke's book. I watched him during its 
preparation and discussed many points with him. 
To me the book is in every way full of interest, 
and it will always be memorable as having been 
written in the valley of the shadow of death. ... 
I have left no room for all the feelings I wish 
to express to you, — perhaps they are better im- 

In June, 1878, Dr. William F. Channing wrote 
to Mr. Whittier a letter in which he made a spir- 
ited defense of his father. Dr. William EUery 
Channing, who, in the Life of Harriet Martineau, 
edited by Mrs. Chapman, was accused of having 
prevented the Federal Street society from taking 
a stand against slavery, his action being imputed 
to moral cowardice. He also quoted a remark 
Mrs. Chapman made to him, to the effect that 
she considered Mr. Whittier, by his position in the 
Liberty party, to be in great moral danger. To 
this letter Mr. Whittier replied: — 

" I have received thy letter, so permeated with 
pious regard for the memory of thy illustrious 
and sainted father. When I read Mrs. Chapman's 
remarks I felt indignant but not surprised. A 
moment's consideration, however, assured me that 
the incredible folly and falsehood could really do 
no harm to such a man as Dr. Channing. For 
he has left his own imperishable record — the un- 
dying proof of his love of freedom and abhorrence 
of slaveiy, and of his courage and self-sacrifice, in 
his writings. He is safe forever. Mrs. Chapman 
was an early and strenuous worker in the anti- 


slavery cause, and I give her full credit for it. I 
understand well how she failed to comprehend and 
appreciate the labors of thy father, and of every 
man who, while periling all in the service of free- 
dom, could bid God-speed to those outside of party 
who were yet doing something in their own way 
for the cause, and could make allowance for those 
who failed to see their duty clearly and who hesi- 
tated to pronounce our shibboleth. I am sorry, 
for her sake, that she has kept her old prejudices 
and misconceptions alive to this day. 

" As to the matter of courage and self-sacrifice, 
very few of us have evinced so much of both as 
thy father. He threw upon the altar the proudest 
reputation, in letters and theology, of his day. 
With the single exception of Lydia Maria Child, 
I know of no one who made a greater sacrifice 
than thy father. I would gladly write an article 
on the subject if I could, but I am obliged to avoid 
any attempt at writing involving mental effort. 
But, as I said before, it does not seem necessary. 
With pleasant recollections of old anti-slavery 
days, I am truly and cordially thy friend." 


Boston, October 10, 1878. 

My dear Whittier, — I know how to thank 
you for the poems, but I do not know how to 
thank you for the more than kind words which 
make the little volume precious. I never was so 
busy, it seems to me, what with daily lectures and. 
literary tasks on hand, and all the interruptions 
which you know about so well. But I would not 


thank you for yxTUr sweet and most cheering 
remembrance before reading every poem ovei*, 
whether I remembered it well or Di>t. And this 
has been a great pleasure to me, for you write 
from your heart and reach all hearts. My wife 
wanted me to read one, — a special favorite of my 
own, " The Witch of Wenham," but I told her, 
" No," — I knew I should break down before I got 
through with it, for it made me tearful again, as 
it did the first time I read it. 

I was going to say, I thank you, but I would say 
rather, I thank God that He has given you the 
thoughts and feelings which sing themselves as 
naturally as the wood-thrush rings his silver bell, 
— to steal your own exquisitely descriptive line. 
Who has preached the gospel of love to such a 
mighty congregation as you have preached it? 
Who has done so much to sweeten the soul of Cal- 
vinistic New England? You have your reward 
here in the affection with which all our people, 
who are capable of loving anybody, regard you. I 
trust you will find a still higher, in that world, 
the harmonies of which find an echo in so many 
of your songs. 

Whittier used whatever influence he possessed 
in securing for Bayard Taylor the nomination to be 
ambassador of the United States at Berlin, which 
was tendered him by President Hayes, early in 
1878. Taylor died at his post in Berlin, in Decem- 
ber of the same year. The last letter from him 
found among the papers of Mr. Whittier is one 
from which the following extract is made, dated 


New York, February 20, 1878 : *' I return heartfelt 
thanks for the greeting and blessing. The nomi- 
nation comes just when I can turn it to the service 
of my most important literary work, — and I gladly 
accept it for that reason alone. But the response 
to it, not only by our true friends, but really by 
the whole country, is the best honor it gives. I 
am very grateful for this." 

We come now to the last letter sent by Whittier 
to the friend he loved so dearly, and it cheered the 
last hours of the dying man.^ It was dated No- 
vember 27, 1878 : — 

" I have just got ' Prince Deukalion.' It is a 
great poem — how great I hardly dare venture to 
say. To me it recalls the great dramas of the im- 
mortal Greeks — not so much in resemblance, as 
in its solemnity and power. I rejoice that such a 
poem is thine. I was glad to hear from Osgood, a 
few days ago, that thy health was rapidly improv- 
ing. We all feel an interest in the good news. Do 
not trouble thyself to answer this note. I know 
how thy time must be occupied, I only wanted to 
say how I am impressed by thy new poem, and to 
utter the old prayer, never out of place : ' God 
bless thee ! ' " 


I hear nothing from thee directly. I read thy 
political papers with a rather confusing sense of 
admiration and regret, wonder and pride in the 

1 " This letter, received shortly before the end came, gave my 
husband unspeakable pleasure. It was the only praise of his 
drama which reached him after publication of it. 

"Mabib Taylob." 


power exhibited, but with frequent misgivings as 
to the justice of some of thy strictures. For my- 
seK, I do not feel called upon to enter into these 
present contests. The game seems to me hardly 
worth the candle. The issues seem small and 
poor. I suppose I am growing old, and am dis« 
posed to ask for peace in my day. I have had 
enough of fighting in the old days. 


12th mo., 16, 1878. 
I am glad you have had Edwin Arnold's poem, 
" He who died at Azan," to offset " Omar Khay- 
yam." The latter is a fierce revolt against the 
fatalism of Calvinism of the Moslem creed, by one 
who had been taught that there was no other and 
better revelation of God than the letter of the 
Koran. " The One who died at Azan " looked from 
that letter to the spiritual intimations of immortal- 
ity. I know of nothing ancient or modern which 
is so filled with a robust and satisfying faith as 
this little poem. 

• Oak Knoll, 1878. 

I was very happy to get thy beautiful flowers, in 
perfect order, last night — the Dutchman's nether 
integuments included ! My little study is made 
gorgeous with them. I am glad thee are able to 
enjoy this charming weather — this wonderful 
spring — after thy long illness. I hope thee will 
be able to ride up to our place some time. It is 
lovely now — the emerald of the lawn, the pear 


and peach and cherry bloom, the yellow clusters 
of the sycamore maples, and the white glory of 
the magnolias. The love of natural beauty with 
me seems to grow stronger as I grow older. 

" The Vision of Echard, and Other Poems," was 
published in 1878. It included " The Witch of 
Wenham," "Sunset on the Bearcamp," and ten 
other poems. Among them was " The Henchman," 
sent to Mr. Howells, for the " Atlantic," in Febru- 
ary, 1877, with this note : — 

"Mr. Lathrop wrote me in regard to a bit of 
rhyme (which I wrote olBE-hand for a young 
friend) ^ which Mr. Osgood wishes to set to music. 
I am doubtful about it being worthy of a place in 
the magazine, and besides, it is quite out of my 
line. If you think it will do, however, I will riot 
object. It will perhaps need no title. I called it 
* The Henchman's Song,' but the first line of the 
first verse will answer as well." 

He recalled this poem from the " Atlantic," for 
some reason, and several months afterwards sent it 
to the " Independent," in which it was published. 

1 Mrs. Jettie Morrill Wasoii) danghter of Hon. George W. Mor- 
riU, of Amesbury, neighbors and dear friends of Mr. Whittier. 
Miss MorriU said to him one day, when they were summering on 
the Bearcamp, " Mr. Whittier, you never wrote a love song. I do 
not believe you can write one. . I would like to have you try to 
write one for me to sing.^' He handed her The Henchman's Song 
the next day, and it was first sung by the charming young lady 
for whom it was written. One other poem was written for her, 
and this also was written at his favorite summer resort, West 
Ossipee. The first boat placed in the Bearoamp waters was 
named the Jettie, in honor of Miss Morrill, and the Voyage of the 
Jettie commemorated the event. 


December 20, 1877. This note to Dr. Ward, the 
editor, went with it : — 

" I send, in compliance with the wish of Mr. 
Bowen and thyself, a ballad upon which, though 
not long, I have bestowed a good deal of labor. It 
is not exactly a Quakerly piece, nor is it didactic, 
and it has no moral that 1 know of. But it is, I 
think, natural^ simple, and not unpoetical." 


Dakyebs, 3d mo., 7, 1879. 
Back from my home in Amesbury. What a 
pity it is that we cannot shut down the gate, and 
let the weary wheels rest awhile I For myself, I 
have to work hard to be idle ; I have to make it a 
matter of duty to ignore duty ; and amuse myself 
with simple stories, play with dogs and cattle, and 
talk nonsense. Dr. Bowditch says that a man of 
active brain ought to make a fool of himself 
occasionally, and unbend, at all hazards to his dig- 
nity. But to some of us life is too serious, and its 
responsibilities too awful, for such a remedy. The 
unsolved mystery presses hard upon us. 


I am greatly pained to hear of the illness of our 
old friend Garrison. For how many years he has 
been an important part of our world! Much 
of my own life was shaped by him. It is very 
sad to think I shall see him no more. The next 
mail may bring tidings of his death. I have been 
thinking over my life, and the survey has not been 


encouraging. Alas I if I have been a servant at 
all I have been an unprofitable one, and yet I have 
loved goodness, and longed to bring my imaginative 
poetic temperament into true subjection. I stand 
ashamed and almost despairing before holy and 
pure ideals. As I read the New Testament I feel 
how weak, irresolute, and frail I am, and how little 
I can rely on anything save our God's mercy and 
infinite compassion, which I reverently and thank- 
fully own have followed me through life, and the 
assurance of which is my sole ground of hope for 
myself, and for those I love and pray for. 

The following letter to Lydia Maria Child was 
written upon Mr. Whittier's return from the 
Yearly Meeting of Friends, held in Portland, in 
June, 1879. The Pocasset tragedy, to which it 
refers, was the insane act of a father, who killed his 
child in emulation of Abraham's intended sacrifice 
of Isaac: — 

" Returning from our Yearly Meeting, I was 
glad to welcome once more thy handwriting. I 
did not see thee at our dear Garrison's funeral. 
Was thee there ? It was a most impressive occa- 
sion. Phillips outdid himself, and Theodore Weld, 
under the stress of powerful emotion, renewed 
that marvelous eloquence which, in the early days 
of anti-slavery, shamed the church and silenced the 
mob. I never heard anything more beautiful and 
more moving. Garrison's faith in the continuity 
of life was very positive. He trusted more to the 
phenomena of spiritualism than I can, however. 
My faith is not helped by them, and yet I wish I 


could see truth in them. I do believe, apart from 
all outward signs, in the future life, and that the 
happiness of that life, as of this, will consist in 
labor and self-sacrifice. In this sense, as thee say, . 
' there is no death.' I trust with thee that the 
wretched Pocasset horror will teach all honest ex- 
pounders the folly and danger of going back to the 
stone age for models of right living. I am shocked 
by the barbarism and superstition of our popular 
faith. There needs another George Fox, with 
broader vision, to call men from the death of the 
letter to the life of the spirit, and to tread under 
foot the ghastly and bloody materialism which sur- 
vives among us." 


28th, 7th mo., 1879. 
I thank thee for the curious Abyssinian book, 
which will be returned with this note. How 
strange ! King Theodore^s bible ! It recalls the 
wonder with which I read, when a boy, Bruce's 
Travels to the source of the Nile. I cannot recall 
the Arabic inscription I referred to, for the foun- 
tain, and have written one myself, taking it for 
granted that the fountain was to be thy gift, 
though thee did not say so. Such a gift would not 
be inappropriate from one who all her life has been 
opening fountains in the desert of human suffering 
— who, to use Scripture phrase, has " passed over 
the dry valley of Baca, making it a well," 

Stranger and traveler I 

Drink freely, and bestow 
A kindly thought on her, 

Who bade this fountain flow. 


Yet hath for it ho claim 

Saye as the minister 
Of blessing in God's name. 



I suppose nine oat oi ten of really thoughtful 
people, were they to express their real feeling, 
would speak much as thee do, of the mingled 
" dread and longing " with which they look forward 
to the inevitable surrender of life. Of course, 
temperament and present surroundings have much 
influence with us. There are some self-satisfied 
souls who, as Charles Lamb says, '' can stalk into 
futurity on stilts," but there are more Fearings and 
Despondencys than Greathearts in view of the 
" loss of aU we know." I have heard Garrison talk 
much of his faith in Spiritualism. He had no 
doubts whatever, and he was very happy. Death 
was to him but the passing from one room to an- 
other and higher one. But }mjact8 did not con- 
vince me. I am slow to believe new things, and in 
a matter of such tremendous interest, I want " as- 
surance doubly sure." I wonder whether, if I could 
see a real ghost, I should believe my own senses. 
I do sometimes feel very near to dear ones who 
have left me — perhaps they are with me then. I 
am sure they would be, if it were possible. Of one 
thing I feel sure : that something outside of my- 
self speaks to me, and holds me to duty ; warns, 
reproves, and approves. It is good, for it requires 
me to be good ; it is wise, for it knows the thoughts 
and intents of the heart. It is to me a revelation 
of God, and of his character and attributes : the 


one important fact^ before which all others seem 
insignificant. I have seen little or nothing of 
what is called Spiritualism: I do not think its 
fruits have always been good ; but the best things 
may be abused and counterfeited. • • . I wish there 
were a possibility of knowing what it really is. 

I have no longer youth and strength, and I have 
not much to hope for, as far as this life is con- 
cerned ; but I enjoy life : ^^ It is a pleasant thing*to 
behold the sim." I love Nature in her varied as- 
pects ; and, as I grow older, I find much to love in 
my fellow-creatures, and also more to pity. I have 
the instinct of immortality, but the conditions of 
that life are unknown. I cannot conceive what my 
own identity and that of dear ones gone before me 
will be. And then the unescapable sense of sin in 
thought and deed, and doubtless some misconcep- 
tion of the character of God, makes the boldest of 
us cowards. Does thee remember the epitaph- 
prayer of Martin Elginbrod? 

^" Here lie I, Martin Elginbrod ; 
Haye pity on my soul, Lord God, 
Ab I wad do were I Lord God 
An* ye were Martin Elginbrod." 

I think there is a volume of comfort in that 
verse. We Christians seem less brave and tran- 
quil, in view of death, than the old Stoic sages. 
Witness Marcus Antoninus. I wonder if the creed 
of Christendom is really the ''glad tidings of great 
joy to all people " which the angels sang of. For 
myself, I believe in God as Justice, Goodness, Ten- 
derness — in one word, Love ; and yet, my trust in 
Him is not strong enough to overcome the natural 


shrinking from the law of death. Even our Mas- 
ter prayed that that cup might pass from Him, " if 
it were possible." 


8th mo., 8, 1879. 
I am very glad to hear from thee and thy excel- 
lent mother, I have a very pleasant recollection 
of the visit thee speak of at the farm, a little out of 
the village of Plymouth, and also of my first visit 
at thy father's house in the village, with George 
Thompson, in 1835. How far back it seems ! As 
I muse over the past, I always recall thy father 
with affectionate memory of his life and labors. 
He was very dear to me — a man whom to know 
was to love. His collected editorials are always at 
hand, with the fine picture of his beautiful and 
expressive face. I am thankful that I can still 
enjoy much, that Nature is as beautiful to me as 
ever, that I have many dear friends left, and that I 
hope to meet those who have gone before, — Sum- 
ner, Garrison, Wilson, Greeley, Chase, Tappan, 
and others of anti-slavery renown who have passed 
away. Give my love to thy dear mother, and 
accept for thyself the affectionate regard of thine 
and thy father's friend. 


At the Beabcamp, 8th mo., 1879. 
I am feeling sadly about Horace.^ But he is 
only going the common way of all, sooner or later, 

1 Daughter of N. P. Hogers. 

^ Horace H. Currier, a dear friend of Whittier, who died within 
a few weeks of the writing of this letter. 


and ^'who knoweth which is best?" I have 
reached an age when the shadow of the Eternal 
World rests apon aU the pictures of this, and the 
thought of the ^' last time " mingles with all greet- 
ings and farewells. My life has been marked by 
undeserved blessings, and my prayer is that the 
mercies of our Heavenly Father, which endure 
forever, may be extended tp me still — in life or 


I am glad to get thy charming book from thy 
own hand. I have read " Deephaven " over half 
a dozen times, and always with gratitude to thee 
for such a book — so simple, pure, and so true to 
nature. And " Old Friends and New" I shall 
certainly read as often. When tired and worried 
I resort to thy books and find rest and refreshing. 
I recommend them to everybody, and everybody 
likes them. There is no dissentmg opmion; and 
already thousands whom thee have never seen love 
the author as well as her books. 


Danyebs, 12Ui mo., 17, 1879. 
Thy note received the evening before my birth- 
day made me very happy. Among the many kind 
greetings which reach me on this anniversary, 
thine has been most welcome, for a word of praise 
from thee is prized more highly than all, though I 
do not undervalue any one's love or friendship. 
I have often since I met thee in Boston thought of 
thy remark that we four singers seem to be iso- 


lated — set apart as it were — in lonely compan- 
ionship, garlanded as if for sacrifice, the world 
about us waiting to see who first shall falter in his 
song, who first shall pass out of the sunshine into 
the great shadow I There is something pathetic 
in it all. I feel like clasping closer the hands of 
my companions. I realize more and more that 
fame and notoriety can avail little in our situa- 
tion ; that love is the one essential thing, always 
welcome, outliving time and change, and going 
with us into the unguessed possibilities of death. 
There is nothing so sweet in the old Bible as the 
declaration that " God is Love." I am no Calvin- 
ist, but I feel in looking over my life — double- 
motived and full of failures — that I cannot rely 
upon word or work of mine to offset sins and 
shortcomings, but upon Love alone. 

Dear H., we began together in Buckingham's 
" Magazine," and together we are keeping step in 
the " Atlantic." Not evenly, indeed, for thy step 
is lighter and freer than mine. How many who . 
began with us have fallen by the way I The cy- 
press shadows lie dark about us, but I think thee 
contrive to keep in the low westering sunshine 
more than I can. A dear cousin of mine, a lady 
of fine culture — Gertrude Whittier Cartland — 
who has been for some years clerk of the Women's 
Yearly Meeting of our Friends' Society, writes 
me : "I thought the poem of Dr. Holmes touch- 
ingly beautiful — such an imdertone of tender 
thoughtfulness, not to be silenced by the strains 
of surface gratulations of flattery. I place ' The 
Iron Gate ' beside Bryant's ' Flood of Years ' and 


Longfellow's ' Morituri Salutamns.' " God bless 
thee, old friend and comrade ! 


12thmo., 31, 1879. 
I have been looking over thy beautifid volume. 
I was familiar with a large number of the poems, 
but many were entirely new to me. It is a col- 
lection of which any poet might well be proud. 
While I admire the strength and power of the 
elegiac poems, and the war pieces, I am especially 
charmed with the graceful and tender idyls. • . . 
My work, such as it is, is done. Thine has only 
begun ; but its present achievement makes the 
future success sure. Indeed, if thee never write 
another stanza, thy place is assured in American 
literature, as the worthy successor of Bryant. 
There is one poem in thy volume which has the 
stamp of immortality upon it. " The Discoverer " 
has always seemed to me one of the most striking 
and powerfully suggestive poems of our time. 


2d mo., 23, 1880. 
I inclose Professor Swing's last sermon, which 
I think will interest thee. I hope to be in Ames- 
bury next week, but must go first to Boston. I 
also send Dr. Meredith's article in the "Alli- 
ance," on the " Proposition of United Prayer for 
the Conversion of Satan." The old Catholic 
saint and schoolman once tried this, praying for 
three days and nights continuously for the Devil's 
conversion, and rose up at last with the hope that 


he had succeeded. Augustine Jones's article on 
Moses Brown is a very clear and full account of 
that remarkable man. It recalled to me the pic- 
ture of him as I saw him in 1833 or '34, when I 
read to him, at his request, the " Speech of the 
Premier on the Passage of the Emancipation Act 
in England." He must have been then in his 
ninety-fourth or ninety-fifth year. 


2d mo., 20, 1880. 
I am old enough to be done with work, only 
that I feel that my best words have not been said 
after all, that what has been said is not its full 
expression. All is incomplete, and I must wait 
for the fresh, strong life of immortality, in the 
hope that through the mercy of Him who " know- 
eth our frame" and our weaknesses, I may be 
enabled to do better with the talent He has given 
me than I have done. 


Sdmo., 17, 1880. 

A friend gives me a sad account of . His 

property is under a mortgage of more than it will 
sell for, and the poor fellow is helplessly sick and 
discouraged. He has a large family, and when 
the bank forecloses, he will have no shelter. We 
*' literary fellows " are none of us rich, but can we 
not do something for him ? Curtis and Holland, 
Clemens and Warner, I am sure would do what 
they could, and we of Boston and vicinity would, 
I think, holp a Httk. He was foolish in his exper- 


iment, but I pardon a great deal to a lover of 
beauty who tries to make his spot of earth beauti- 
ful. Of course the thing must be done with deli- 
cate regard to his feelings, if at all. If we could 
raise $4000 or $5000 it would put a roof over his 
head at least. Can we not throw a plank to the 
drowning man? Think of it. Life is slipping 
away from us fast, and we must do our little good 
while we can. The trouble is, there are so many 
hard cases, so many sad appeals made to us, that 
we can do but little in any one direction.^ I in- 
close a bit of rhyme ["The Minister's Daugh- 
ter "] which I do not pretend is poetry, but the 
grimmest kind of realism. ^ I feel it a duty to 
remind the extravagant eulogists of the old Cal- 
vinism of sdme of its doings. 


22d, 7th mo., 1880. 
I have looked over thy list of noteworthy 
events, but have concluded to take as subject for 
a poem the missive of Charles II. to Governor 
Endicott, in 1661, sent by Samuel Shattuck, a 
Quaker, of Salem, forbidding the further persecu- 
tion of the Quakers. Shattuck had been banished 
from the country on pain of death, went to Eng- 

1 Mr. WMttiep presented this case to Mr. George W. Childs, 
who at once promised $1000. Whittier offered $250. The per^ 
son to be relieyed was not one with whom he was personally ac- 

^ This letter was written in answer to a call for a poem for the 
Memorial History of Boston. In the first volnme of this work, 
"The King^s Missive'' was placed at the opening, fully illus- 


land, and was made the king's agent to convey 
the royal mandate to Massachusetts. It may 
make from a hundred to a hundred and twenty 
lines. I do not know whether it should have a 
place in the first or second volimie — probably the 
incident would be in the second. 

Upon the appearance of the ballad "The 
King's Missive," there was a discussion as to its 
historical accuracy, at a meeting of the Massachu- 
setts Historical Society, and Rev. Dr. George E. 
Ellis, of Boston, afterward read a paper before 
that society to show that the letter of Charles II. 
did not have the effect ascribed to it in the ballad ; 
that it did not require and did not bring about a 
general jail delivery, but requested that one class 
of imprisoned Quakers should be sent to England 
for trial, which was not complied with. Inciden- 
tally, Dr. Ellis spoke of the Quakers as glorying 
in their persecution, and inviting it by their sedi- 
tious and indecent behavior. To this paper Mr. 
Whittier made reply in an article sent to the 
Boston "Advertiser," in March, 1881, which is 
given in the Appendix to this work as a specimen 
of his vigorous prose style. 


9th mo., 24, 1880. 
In 1838, I was in Philadelphia, editor of the 
Pennsylvania " Freeman," and my office was 
burned with Pennsylvania Hall. I was by the 
side of thy wife's father, Daniel Neall, who pre- 
sided at the anti-slavery meeting the night before 


the burning, while the mob was pressing in at the 
doors, and the glass of the broken windows was 
shattered over him. I have never forgotten the 
dignity and firmness with which he held his place 
on that occasion. ... I am glad of an opportu- 
nity to express my thanks for the justice done to 
the early Friends in thy history. Rev. Dr. Ellis 
of Boston has written an article for the new " His- 
tory of Boston," in which he labors to show that 
the Quakers were as much to blame for being 
hanged as the Puritans were for hanging them. 
Give my regards to thy wife, and tell her that I 
have just had a visit from her brother and Ed- 
ward Wright. It was very pleasant to talk over 
with them the old days of the anti-slavery strug- 
gle, and the dear friends with whom we acted. 


10th mo., 2ad, 1880. 
Thanks for the Swinburne "Tragedy of the 
Footstool." ^ Browning's rugged verse and Swin- 
burne's marvelous rhythmic felicities are perfectly 
reproduced, and the comical absurdity of the action 
of the piece is irresistibly droll. I think I would 
send Browning a copy. I am sure he would enjoy 
it. How it would have delighted our dear friend, 
Bayard Taylor I . . . Have the leaves in the vicin- 
ity of Portland taken on the autumn tints? Here 
they are scarcely changed, and I fear the display 
this year will be a poor one. But the asters and 

^ A satirical poem, by Mias Jones, published in ihe Portland 
Press, reproducing ihe styles of Browning and Swinburne, which 
was highly praised by Browning, when at Whittier^s suggestion 
a copy was sent to him. 


gentians and goldenrod are abundant, and I never 
tire of them, glorifying as they do every winding 
roadside and rocky pasture slope of New England. 
The hardy little harebell still blossoms in the Oak 
Knoll grounds, as it does on the banks of the Mer- 
rimac, in Amesbxiry. 


Dantebs, 11th mo., 29, 1880. 
I thought of thee on Thanksgiving Day, and 
wondered if thee was at the table. It was a rather 
dull day to me, for on such occasions I always 
think of the old days in Amesbury, when my 
mother and sister were with me. Thy friend B. 
has written me saying he is done with polities. 
He feels rather sore about his defeat ; but I told 
him I had been in the same predicament as a Free- 
Soil candidate for Congress, and got abused worse 
than he did, for I was charged with ill-treating my 
wife ! 

In 1880, Mr. Whittier wrote an introduction 
for a volume entitled " William Lloyd Garrison 
and His Times." In the same year his "River 
Path " appeared as one of the four poems in 
" Christmastide." "The King's Missive," which 
originally appeared in " The Memorial History of 
Boston," was published, with other poems, in 1881. 
The history of' one of these poems, " The Jubilee 
Singers," is as follows : — 

In November, 1879, the Jubilee Singers of the 
risk University called upon Mr. Whittier, and 
were received in the " garden room " at Amesbury. 


The interview was much enjoyed by the poet as 
well as by the singers. He was interested in the 
romantic story of their successes in Europe ; there 
they had sung before seven kings and emperors, 
and had dined with Gladstone, but on returning 
to this country they had been driven from a hotel 
at midnight because they were black. As they 
were about to leave Mr. Whittier they sang sev- 
eral of their sweetest songs, ending with " Swing 
low, sweet chariot," and the benediction, — 

*' The Lord bless thee and keep ihee, 
The Lord make his face shine upon thee. 
And be gracious nnto thee, 
The Lord lift up his countenance 
Upon thee, and give thee peace. Amen.'* 

He listened with bowed head, and tears rolled 
down his cheeks. Mr. Loudin says : " It was with 
great difficulty we could sing, so deeply were we 
touched by the experience of the hour now closing. 
I shall never forget the expression upon that 
illumined face at that parting moment. Whittier 
stepped forward and shook hands, but so deep were 
his feelings that he spoke no word until he came 
to the last, when he said, ' God bless you all I 
Good-by.' " The next morning he wrote four 
stanzas in their album, to which he afterward 
added two more, and gave the title ^^ The Jubilee 

The poem " Abram Morrison " was written for 
a little paper called " The Social Banner," issued 
in aid of a charitable fair in Amesbxiry, in 1884. 
The paper was to be printed on Monday, and not a 
line of the poem was written on Saturday. When 


one of the lady managers of the fair received the 
manuscript early Monday morning, she had the 
curiosity to ask when it was composed, hinting her 
opinion that Whittier had stayed at home from 
meeting on First day to write it. But he assured 
her that he attended meeting and made his usual 
calls that day, and left her to infer that the lines 
about the Irish Quaker were composed in the 
meeting, where it would be easy to conjure up a 
reminiscent image of Friend Morrison, as in this 
stanza : — 

*' Still, in memory, on his feet, 
Leaning o'er the elders' seat, 
Mingling with a solemn drone 
Celtic accents all his own, 

Rises Abram Morrison." 

This guess is the only foundation for the state- 
ment that he sometimes composed his verses in the 
quiet of the Friends' meeting, unless we except 
the case of '' Laus Deo," elsewhere mentioned. 

To an inquiry about the legend of the Greenleaf 
family referred to in "A Name," Mr. Whittier 
wrote : — 

^' I have for a long time heard the tradition of it. 
In the Genealogy of the Greenleaf family occurs 
this passage : ' From all that can be gathered 
it is believed that the ancestors of the Greenleaf 
family were Huguenots, who left France on accoimt 
of their religious principles in the course of the 
sixteenth century, and settled in England. The 
name was probably translated from the French 
FeuilleverV Marot was a somewhat celebrated 
French poet of the sixteenth century. He was in- 


clined to the Protestant faith, and wrote the hymns 
of the Huguenots. I am not sure that the old 
Greenleaf embarked from the port of St. Malo ; 
but as that was the port from whence many of the 
persecuted exiles came, I took the liberty of using 
it in my verse. I inclose an interesting account 
of the French Acadians, in the Madawaska region, 
in which the habit of the people in changing their 
names for the English equivalent is mentioned — 
just as ' Feuillevert ' became * Greenleaf.' The 
writer says : ' They have a singular fancy for An- 
glicizing their names. At the Grand Falls, Napo- 
leon Bois figures on a sign as Napoleon Woods ; 
Le Blanc becomes White, St. Pierre St. Peter, 
and Fabien becomes Do-Well.' " 


Ist mo., 188L 
I am much concerned for the poor colored peo- 
ple who are crowding into Kansas in this bitter 
winter. I think they better stay in their old 
homes,- but it will not do to let them starve and 
freeze. There is great need of money and cloth- 
ing. Our Quaker friend Elizabeth L. Comstock 
is working hard at Topeka, and doing a great deal 
with comparatively small means. How much of 
sin and want and pain there is in the world ! I 
wonder if it is all necessary, — if it cannot be 
helped. The terrible mystery sometimes oppresses 
me, but I hold fast my faith in God's goodness, 
and the ultimate triumph of that goodness. I 
know in my own experience that some things 
which seemed evil have proved good, or the means 
of gooi 



Ist mo., 18, 1881. 

What wonderful pictures you will bring home to 
hang in the gallery of memory ! I am sorry yon 
did not see more of the Alps, but I have Imown 
jpeople to go hunting all over Switzerland for weeks 
and not find them. I do not care at all to see 
Rome, or Paris, or London. . . . Thy graphic de- 
scription of the storm at Appledore made me sorry 
I was not there to see it, and in the evening to sit 
with you by your pleasant flowers and drift-wood 
fire. I remember the storm thee speak of. The 
touching story of the child's burial must not be 
omitted in ^'the book'' which, as the Orientals 
say, it is thy kismet, or destiny, to write some time. 
The lines quoted by thee are resonant with all sea- 
sounds. I like the rain calming the sea, — 

" till sullenly planged the surges 
Leaden and deadly white where the crests broke afar / 
in the distance." 

Will thee hand this "Pickwick" to thy good 
brothers? Just look at the picture of Mr. P.'s 
trial and Sergeant Buzf uz pleading for that injured 
innocent, Mrs. Bardell. Tell Oscar my niece is 
proud and happy with her loon's feather. 



1st mo., 26, 1881. 

I expected to hear of William Ashby's speedy 
departure. I have known him for nearly fifty 
years, — an upright, honest man, and a constant 
and active friend of the oppressed. Remember 

^ Upon her return from Enrope. 


me to his wife, and assure her of my sympathy. 
Her husband will leave an honorable memory be- 
hind him. His love of flowers and of all natural 
beauty was a marked characteristic, and he was al- 
ways a gentleman, courteous and affable. 


Ist mo., 27, 1881. 

When February opens I shall feel as if win- 
ter was losing its iron grip. The long nights are 
tedious, especially to one who can't sleep soundly. 
I always envied Maryatt's "Peter Simple," who 
could " bear a great deal of sleep." I cannot read 
in the evening, and not long in the daytime. . . . 
I have friends in Florida who supply me bounti- 
fully with its golden fruit. I only wish their at- 
mosphere came with the oranges. ... A note from 
George William Curtis mentioned spending an 
evening with you a few days ago. It must be ex- 
ceedingly pleasant to have him for a neighbor. 
He tells me that Mr. Gay is writing the Life of 
Edmund Quincy, of which I am very glad. He 
can and will do justice to the cause to which 
Quincy devoted his fine talents, and in which he 
himself bore a brave and self-sacrificing part. I 
have been suffering for some weeks with a lame 
knee — a sprain, I suppose — and for the first time 
in my life have found a cane necessary ; and even 
with that I am mostly confined to the house. I 
enjoy books and friends, and my interest in public 
affairs is active. I have to see a great many peo- 
ple, who contrive to get to me, though I am a part 
of the time in my old home in Amesbury. They 


are mostly strangers, but my friends in Boston, 
Dr« Holmes and others, do not forget me. I 
liad a pleasant visit from Phillips Brooks and 
Archdeacon Farrar, when the latter was in the 
country last fall. 


March 6, 1881. 

I have sweetened this Sunday afternoon by 
reading the poems in the precious little volume 
you sent me a few days ago. Some were new to me, 
— others, as you ought to know, are well known. 
I have not forgotten your kind words for my even- 
ing breakfast. If you happen to have seen an 
article in the March — or was it February? — 
" North American," you will have noticed, it may 
be, my reference to " The Minister's Daughter," 
and to yourself as preaching the Gospel of Love 
to a larger congregation than any minister ad- 
dresses. I never rise from any of your poems 
without feeling the refreshment of their free and 
sweet atmosphere. I may find more perfume in 
one than in another, — as one does in passing from 
one flowery field into the next. I may find more 
careful planting in this or in that, as in different 
garden-beds, but there is always the morning air 
of a soul that breathes freely, and always the fra- 
grance of a loving spirit. Again that sweetest 
" Minister's Daughter " brought the tears into my 
eyes — and out of them. Again I read with emo- 
tion that generous tribute [" The Lost Occasion "] 
to the man whom living we so longed to admire 
without a reservation — of whom, dead, you write 


with Buch a noble humanity. I must not speak 
too warmly of the lines whose kindness I feel so 
deeply, only wishing I had deserved such a tribute 
better. But of the poem which comes next, 
^' Garrison," I can speak, and I wiU say that it 
has the strenuous tone, the grave music of your 
highest mood, — which I believe is the truest and 
best expression of the New England inner life 
which it has ever found, at least in versified utter- 
ance. I have forgotten to thank you for remem- 
bering me, — and especially for the way in which 
you remember me, for I did not miss the words 
which made my blood warm, as I read them on the 
fly-leaf. Let me say — for it means more than 
you can know — that no written or printed words 
come into our household on which my wife, a very 
true-hearted woman, looks with so much interest 
as on yours. 


4th mo., 2, 1881. 

I like the " Little Pilgrim's " story better than 
Dante's picture of Heaven, — an old man sitting 
eternally on a high chair, and concentric circles of 
saints, martyrs, and ordinary church members, 
whirling around him in perpetual gyration, and 
singing " Glory I " Ah, me I it is idle to speculate 
on these things. All I ask for is to be free from 
sin, and to meet the dear ones again. ... I have 
just sent a poem [" Eabbi Ishmael "] to the "At- 
lantic," which perhaps nobody will like. But I 
do, and that is enough, as I wrote it to free my 



6ih mo., 11, 1881. 
The lady of the poem " Among the Hills " was 
purely imaginary. I was charmed with the scen- 
ery in Tamworth and West Ossipee, and tried to 
call attention to it in a story. My old hamit there, 
the Bearcamp House, is burned down, much to my 
regret. ... I hope another house will be built on 
its site. With the long range of the Sandwich 
Mountains and Chocorua on one hand, and the 
rugged masses of Ossipee on the other, it is really 
one of the most picturesque situations in the State. 
I think thy wife may well be proud of her native 

In the summer of 1881, Mr. Whittier spent 
several weeks with his cousins, Joseph and Ger- 
trude W. Cartland, at Intervale, N. H., and con- 
tinued to be their summer companion among the 
hills during the remaining twelve years of his life. 
In this charming spot he greatly enjoyed the utter 
guiet of the long meadow levels and the moun- 
tains beyond, watching the snow streaks on Mount 
Washington, and wishing he could see it all cov- 
ered as in winter. The pine woods, near the hotel, 
more like the "forest primeval" than can often be 
found in places so much frequented by summer 
guests, were a favorite resort, where, with the 
underbrush cleared away by his own hand, and 
rustic seats prepared, he spent a part of nearly 
every day, with a group of friends, in the tmcon- 
ventional social intercourse which he always so 
highly prized. 


When traveling, his eyes insisted upon seeing 
every landscape on the route, and studying the 
faces of his fellow- travelers. Hence railway trav- 
eling was found very fatiguing, especially in a 
region with which he was not perfectly familiar. 
After passing through the Notch of the White 
Mountains, on a railroad train, he spoke of the ex- 
perience as one which he never wished to repeat ; 
contrasting it with the leisurely passage of a stage- 
coach through the Notch some years before, which 
he greatly enjoyed. He rarely entered a railroad 
car without passing through it to take a view of 
his fellow-passengers, and if anything struck him 
as odd or amusing he was sure to observe and refer 
to it afterward. He took a sympathetic interest in 
every phase of htunanity. At the stunmer hotels 
he was often to be seen on the piazza when trains 
and stages arrived and departed, and without any 
apparent inquisitiveness his keen eyes took note of 
everything, and his shrewd and humorous com- 
ments upon the events of the day were the delight 
of those privileged with his intimacy. 

Mr. Whittier did not care to ascend mountains 
for the prospect they afforded. When asked if he 
had ever viewed Lake Winnepesaukee and its sur- 
roundings from Eed Hill, he said he had never any 
desire to do so ; that he once looked down upon the 
scene from a neighboring hill and found it had lost 
its impressiveness. Boulders had become pebbles, 
great trees seemed as scraggy bushes, and the lake 
itself a mere pond. The whole scene was dwarfed, 
its grandeur lost. 

Whenever Mr. Whittier was stopping at a hotel, 


other guests had the opportunity to meet him in 
the parlors, or upon the piazzas, for he never se- 
cluded himself. When in a public room, he made 
it a rule to devote his time to those who wished to 
converse with him. 

"What do people live on here?" asked Mr. 
Whittier in a little settlement among the moun- 
tains, where nobody seemed to be doing anything. 
** They live by keeping quiet," was the reply ; and 
this was a neighborhood the poet loved to visit. 
He said he disliked, when he was himself taking a 
rest, to come upon busy people, and he was once 
annoyed by noticing that a blacksmith was setting 
up his forge near the hotel where he was spending 
his summer. But he said he found he need not 
worry — the man got nothing to do ! 

To a young lady, an invalid, who had gone to the 
mountains for her health, he wrote : — 

" I hope thee will like the place and be benefited. 
But nobody gets well who has to dress for dinner. 
Thee should have taken only a single dress and 
worn it all the time, and take no thought where- 
withal thee shall be clothed. That 's the way." 

His fondness for children and young people was 
a marked trait in his character. The young peo- 
ple of Amesbury were always welcome guests at 
his home, and he was seldom too busy to lay aside 
his work for a few moments' pleasant talk. Dur- 
ing his many summerings at West Ossipee, accom- 
panied by his niece, he generally invited some of 
her Amesbury friends to join them, and nothing 
could be more charming than to see him surrounded 
by a bevy of young girk, listening to their merri- 


ment, arranging for their excursions, telling them 
stories, calling their attention to good books, and 
in all possible ways planning for their amusement 
and profit. Several of his poems, such as ^' Neigh- 
bor Acres," "How they climbed Chocorua," 
"Voyage of the Jettie," "The Seeking of the 
Waterfall," and " The Henchman," some of which 
have never been published, were written for their 
amusement, or at their suggestion. Later on, 
wherever he might be, whether at Holdemess, 
Dan vers, or Newburyport, he soon gathered a flock 
of young people around him, in whom he took a 
lively interest, and who have gratefully appreciated 
the influence of his beautiful life. 

When among his friends he loved to listen to 
the singing of simple ballads, but he usually avoided 
an expression of interest in them as music. His 
compliment to the singer would be, " Thy voice is 
very sweet." 


8th mo., 1881. 
It is a dark, rainy day — one of the most canine 
of the dog-days. But in our " garden room " the 
flower-vases remind us of the green places visited 
in the sunshine of the last few days. Will they 
not be familiar, too, to thee? Here are graceful 
bluebells from the Merrimac bank near the Chain 
Bridge ; gorgeous goldenrod from the picturesque 
and quiet Salisbury burial-ground hill ; sweet white 
cones of the water-bush, from the woods near the 
Salisbury beach; splendid spikes of the cardinal 
flower from the banks of the Powow River ; and 
others suggestive of equally interesting localities, 


where we twa liae talked and laughed and moral- 
ized together. 


8ihmo.,7, 1881. 
I have just been re-reading thy magnificent 
" Corda Concordia," and I cannot deny myself 
the satisfaction of pronouncing it the best occa- 
sional poem of the last quarter of a century. 
There is not a weak or^superfluous verse in it ; not 
too much or too little ; it stands complete. I dare 
say others more competent to speak than myself 
have told thee this before, but I must acknowledge 
the very great pleasure which it has given me. It 
has the antique beauty of the old Masters of Song, 
while it gives utterance to the earnest but reverent 
spirit of an age of Question. 


8ih mo., 10, 1881. 

I shall be glad to do all in my power to open 
the doors of Brown University to women. I in- 
close a note to Eichard Atwater which I will thank 
thee to forward to him. Of course the world is 
growing better ; the Lord reigns ; our old planet 
is wheeling slowly into fuller light. I despair of 
nothing good. All will come in due time that is 
really needed. All we have to do is to work — 
and wait. 


I hope the time is not far distant when Brown 
University will be open to woman. The traditions 
of the noble old institution are all in favor of 
broad liberality and equality of rights and privi- 


leges. The state of my health and the increasing 
weight of years may prevent me from taking an 
active part in the matter, but it would be a great 
satisfaction to give my voice in behalf of a measure 
which I feel certain would redound to the honor, 
and materially promote the prosperity, of the col- 
lege. Brown University cannot afford to hesitate 
much longer in a matter, like this, of simple justice. 
No one who has felt the pulse of public opinion 
can doubt that the time has come when a liberal 
educational policy irrespective of sex is not only a 
duty, but a necessity. 


October 18, 1881. 
I have worn the same glasses for twenty years. I 
am getting somewhat hard of hearing — " slightly 
deaf," the newspapers inform me, with that polite 
attention to a personal infirmity which is character- 
istic of the newspaper press. The dismantling of 
the human organism is a gentle process more obvi- 
ous to those who look on than to those who are the 
subjects of it. It brings some solaces with it; 
deafness is a shield ; infirmity makes those around 
us helpful ; incapacity unloads our shoulders ; and 
imbecility, if it must come, is always preceded by 
the administration of one of nature's opiates. It 
is a good deal that we older writers, whose names 
are often mentioned together, should have passed 
the Psalmist's limit of active life, and yet have an 
audience when we speak or sing. I wish you all 
the blessings you have asked for me — how much 
better you deserve them 1 



11th mo^ 29, 1881. 
I hear that thy birthday comes early in the next 
month, a little before mine ; and I cannot let the 
occasion pass without sending a word of greeting 
from an old friend of thine and of thy dear and 
good husband, whose memory is kept green by all 
who knew him personally, or who felt the inspira- 
tion of his genius, and the noble example of his 
self-sacrificing devotion to the cause of freedom. 
How vividly I recall the visit which dear George 
Thompson and myself made at your beautiful home 
in the village of Plymouth, more than forty years 
ago ! We left you then to fall into the hands of 
the mob at Concord, and escaped only after rough 
handling. What a " certain sound " rang out from 
the bugle of his " Herald of Freedom " I How it 
cheered us in the long, hard struggle ! To have 
had the heart-felt friendship of such a man is to 
me, in the late afternoon of life, a very precious 
memory. To thee, dear friend^ his loved compan- 
ion, his memory is a priceless legacy. I am al- 
most alone now — most of my relations and old 
friends have passed onward. But I love to recall 
my fellow-workers and the old anti-slavery days. 
I hope thee are in comfortable health, and that 
thy last years may be blest. 


12th mo., 18, 1881. 
It was most kind in thee to send the flowers, 
and my heart thanks thee more than any pen can. 
These mile-stones at my age are rather serious 



things, and happy is he who in passing them sees 
them as I have done, wreathed with flowers, sym- 
bols and prophecies of the immortality of love and 


12th mo., 19, 1881. 
I spent my birthday quietly and soberly with 
two old friends who dined with me. I confess I do 
not enjoy these anniversaries. .They are solemn 
reminders of the inevitable end ; and I love this 
old world of ours, and the sweet familiar scenes 
and dear human faces, too well to be quite ready 
to leave them. But all as God wiUs. I will trust 
and wait. 


Daihtebs, 2d mo., 1882. 
I wonder how I can reconcile myself to the old, 
customary life here, after my pleasant stay in Bos- 
ton, and our delightful companionship there. I 
cannot make thee understand how grateful and re- 
freshing it all was and how much I thank thee for 
it. I did not leave the city until Thursday morn- 
ing. My brother has been very ill, but is now 
somewhat, though 1 fear not permanently, better. 
The last of our family, he is a kind, unselfish man, 
whose way of life has been hard and difficult. For 
the last fifteen years he has been connected with 
the Naval Office in Boston. ... I must tell thee 
how much I have enjoyed that queer, good " Vicar 
of Hermanstow." ^ I have seen nothing so good 
for a long time. For it, and for much more, I 
thank thee. 

1 By S. Baring Gould ' 



3d mo., 24, 1882. 
With regard to modern Spiritualism I have had 
a feeling that it was not safe or healthful for mind 
or body to yield myself to an influence the nature 
of which was unknown. There is a fascination in 
it, but the fascination is blended with doubt and 
repulsion. I am disgusted with the tricks and 
greed of these mediums ; their pretended spiritual 
intercourse has none of the conditions which 
Tennyson's " In Memoriam " describes, and I do 
not know that I really need additional proof of 
the life hereafter. I think my loved ones are still 
living and awaiting me. And I wait and trust. 
And yet how glad and gratefid I should be to 
know ! I must believe that our friends are near 
us — that they still love and watch over us. 


3d mo., 1882. 

The death of a man like Longfellow is a na- 
tional loss. He has been an influence for good ; 
all the Christian virtues his verse and his life ex- 
emplified. Pure, kindly, and courteous, simpljB yet 
scholarly, he was never otherwise than a gentle- 
man. There is no blot on the crystal purity of 
his writings. His fame is secure, and is likely to 
increase in the future. I cannot imagine a 
time when his songs shall cease to be loved and 
cherished. "Peace to the good man's memory! 
Let it grow green with years and blossom through 
the night of centuries." 



3d mo., 28, 1882. 

It seems as if I could never write again. A 
feeling of unutterable sorrow and loneliness op- 
presses me. I must leave to thee or Dr. Holmes 
the poem for the " Atlantic." I have written a 
few verses for the next number of the "Wide 
Awake," in reference to the celebration of Long- 
fellow's last birthday by the children, and do not 
feel that I can do any more at present, if ever. 
Our circle is awfully narrowing. We must close 
our thinned ranks and stand closer to each other* 
As Wordsworth says : — 

*' Like clonds that rake the monntain's summit, 
As waves that know no guiding hand, 
So swift has brother f oUowed brother, 
From smishine to the sonless land I '* 

The following lines were written at the Asquam 
House, in the summer of 1882, on the fly-leaf of 
a volume of Longfellow's poems, in the possession 
of Mrs. Martha Nichols : — 

'* Hushed now the sweet consoling tongue 
Of him whose lyre the Muses strung ; 
His last low swauHSong has been sung I 

'^ His last I And ours, dear friend, is near ; 
As clouds that rake the mountains here, 
We too shall pass and disappear. 

*^ Yet howsoever changed or tost. 
Not even a wreath of mist is lost. 
No atom can itself exhaust. 

** So shall the souVs superior force 
Live on and run its endless course 
In God's unlimited muTerse. 


" And we, whose brief reflections seem 
To fade like clouds from lake and stream, 
Shall brighten in a holier beam." 


4th mo., 7, 1882. 
It gave us all great pleasure to hear directly 
from thee once more. We had heard of thy ill- 
ness, but did not know where a letter would find 
thee. I am glad to know thou art with kind 
friends, and as comfortable as possible under the 
circumstances. Thou hast done so much for others 
that it is right for thee now, in age and illness, to 
be kindly ministered to. He who has led thee in 
thy great work of benevolence will never leave 
thee nor forsake thee. With a feeling of almost 
painful unworthiness I read thy over-kind words 
as regards myself. I wish I could feel that I de- 
served them. But compared with such a life as 
thine, my own seems poor and inadequate. But 
none the less do I thank thee for thy generous 


5th mo., 1882. 

How kind it was in thee to write me amidst the* 
worries and cares of preparation for thy flitting 
across the water ; and to add to all thy troublea 
the necessity of entertaining dull company by in 
viting me to 3outh Berwick. I know it would be 
wickedly selfish for me to accept such an invita- 
tion; but I certainly should do so if I could. 
Fortunately for thee I have been kept back by 
illness, and the northeast winds blowing over all 
the icebergs between here and the Pole. And 


then I must be in Amesbury next week, in attend- 
ance upon our Quaker Quarterly Meeting, and to 
meet my niece Lizzie, and my brother if he is able 
to get there. S6 I must let thee go with my writ- 
ten benediction and with grateful thanks for thy 
books, and still more for thyself. 


5th mo., 18, 1882. 
Why should thee wish to step out of the line 
of march ? Why envy those who fall by the way ? 
So long as the east winds do not torment thee 
and thee can go a-Maying in the coldest rainstorm 
that ever blew over Andover hill, life must be 
worth living. And it would not be worth so much 
to some of us, if thee deserted us. I wish thee 
would think of that, and hold on. I take it, the 
east wind is the " Sanser " wind of death which 
the Mohammedans say will blow over the earth in 
the last days. I am groaning (inaudibly) with 
neuralgic pains, and longing for a change in the 
weathercock, which is rusted east. 

The summer of 1882 was partly spent in Hol- 
derness, N. H., at the hotel then recently built on 
the summit of Shepherd Hill, the spot so beauti- 
fully described in his poem " The Hill-Top." This 
place was visited by Whittier and his sister some 
years previous when passing from Plymouth to 
Centre Harbor, and before it was known as a sum- 
mer resort. His love of the picturesque and sub- 
lime in nature was here fully satisfied. The " Storm 
on Lake Asquam " was written during his sojourn 


at this place, and descriptive of a violent thunder- 
storm viewed from the veranda of the hotel. 


AsQUAM House, 7th mo., 14, 1882. 
Thy dear letter comes to me here, and I have 
read it where this beautiful but unhistoric lake 
stretches away before me, green-gemmed with 
islands, until it loses itself in the purple haze of 
the Grunstock mountains, whose summits redden in 
the setting sun. How can I thank thee for the 
graphic description of your visit to the Isle of 
Wight, and strange and picturesque Cleverly, and 
venerable Hermanstow, with its Norman tower 
looking, as the rare old vicar did, into the ocean's 
mystery ? Since reading it, I seem to have been 
with you all the way. Did John Oak or his uncle 
seem aware that they were carrying a third passen- 
ger, like the boatman in Uhland's ballad, and did 
you pay double fare on my account ? It was very 
kind in thee to take so much time from thy needed 
rest, and give me this great pleasure. I left 
Amesbury yesterday in a hot southerly rainstorm, 
but just as we reached Alton Bay, the wind shifted 
to the north-northeast, and blew a gale, scattering 
the clouds, and by the time our steamer passed 
out of the bay into the lake, the water was white- 
capped, and waves broke heavily on the small 
islands, flinging their foam and spray against the 
green foliage on the shores. It was pleasant to 
see again the rugged mass of Ossipee loom up be- 
fore us — and the familiar shapes of the long 
Sandwich range come slowly into view. To-day 


the weather is perfect — clear, keen sunshine and 
cool, bracing wind. The season is rather late, and 
the sweet-brier roses are still in bloom, and these 
often-parched hill slopes are now green as your 
English downs. But I wish I could have been 
with you at Alum Bay, as you lay down on the 
green sward, and heard the bells of Carisbrooke 
Castle. If you visit London or Eochdale again 
you may possibly like to meet John Bright, and I 
inclose a note to him, if you have no better intro- 


8th mo., 23, 1882. 
I have received thy kind letter with the beauti- 
ful specimen of the tropical growth of the place 
where thee and thy wife are laboring to make, 
with the Lord's help, the world about you better. 
The incident related in thy letter of the release of 
the imprisoned slave mother is a very striking one, 
and recalls Peter's experience at Philippi.^ I 
doubt not the Girls' Training Home is greatly 
needed. It seems to me that the poor colored peo- 
ple of the United States and the West Indies con- 
stitute in a peculiar manner the true field of 
Christian labor in our Society. We could not fight 
to liberate them, but it was expected of us that 
we would regard them as providentially our wards. 

The following is the reply to a letter signed by 

fifty of Whittier's friends in Great Britain and 

1 The incident referred to was one which occurred in slavery 
times in Jamaica. A slave mother, with her babe, was impris- 
oned within stone walls, which an earthquake threw down, leaving 
mother and child nninjnred. 


Ireland, expressing the enjoyment, help, and com- 
fort which his writings had given them : — 

Amesbubt, 10th mo., 30, 1882. 

Your letter has reached me, and I have read it 
with a feeling of gratitude to our Heavenly Fa- 
ther, for its words of tender sympathy and encour- 
agement. Especially I am glad, that so many 
dear friends, whose names recall the worthies of 
past generations, are able to partake with me of 
the great hope that He whose will it is that all 
should turn to Him and live, and whose tender 
mercy endureth forever and is over all the works 
of his hands, will do the best that is possible for 
all his creatures. What that may be, we know 
not, but we can trust Him to the uttermost. This 
hope and this trust in the mercy of the All Mer- 
ciful I have felt impelled to express, yet with 
a solemn recognition of the awful consequences 
of alienation from Him, and a full realization of 
the truth that sin and suffering are inseparable. 
There is a passage in the prayer of John Wool- 
man on his death-bed which has occurred to me, 
when the burden of the sin and sorrow of the world 
has rested heavily upon me : "I felt the misery 
of my fellow-creatures, separated from the Divine 
Harmony, and it was greater than I could bear, 
and I was crushed down under it. In the depth 
of misery I remembered that Thou art omnipo- 
tent, and that I had called Thee Father, and I 
felt that I loved Thee, and I was made quiet in 
my will, and waited for deliverance from Thee." 

Let me say that the hope which I humbly cher- 


ish for myself and my fellow-creatures rests, not 
upon any work or merit of my own, but upon the 
Infinite Love, manifested in the life and death of 
the Pivine Master, and in the light and grace 
afforded to all. In the communion and fellowship 
of that faith in the guidance of the Spirit of Truth, 
which is the vital principle of our Religious So- 
ciety, I am affectionately and gratefully your friend. 

It is an illustration of the catholicity of Whit- 
tier's religious faith that we find him filling a large 
place in collections of hymns for worship, extracts 
from many of his poems appearing in recent 
hymnals, and becoming favorites among the differ- 
ent Christian denominations. In a collection of 
sixty-six hymns prepared for the use of the Gen- 
eral Congress of Eeligions at Chicago, in 1893, 
nine were taken from the poems of Whittier, a 
larger number than from any other author. The 
extent to which a religious spirit permeates what 
would generally be regarded as his secular poems is 
strikingly shown in the selection made by Samuel 
Longfellow from his ode to " Democracy," which, 
under the title of " Christianity," is sung to-day in 
hundreds of churches. " The Eternal Goodness " 
has furnished material for two favorite hymns, 
and " Our Master " has lent itself to no less than 
three, which appear in different selections. " The 
Wish of To-Day," "My Psalm," "The Voices," 
" The Meeting," " The Angel of Patience," " The 
Shadow and the Light," and others have added to 
the treasures of modern hymnology, and the yearn- 
ings of many a devout soul have found utterance 
in the words of " Andrew Rykman's Prayer." 


When, in December, 1882, an effort was being 
made to defeat the reelection of Hon. George F. 
Hoar to the United States Senate, Mr. Whittier 
wrote a letter to the Boston "Advertiser," at a 
time when it proved most serviceable, containing 
these sentences : — 

" I need not tell thee that I should regard it as 
a serious misfortune for Massachusetts to lose the 
services of Senator Hoar. I do not know him 
personally, and I am no man's partisan, but I have 
watched his course with great satisfaction. I re- 
gard him as one of the ablest members of the 
Senate, where his integrity and loyalty to the best 
traditions of his State have been abundantly 
manifested. He is a ready and able speaker, 
sound in judgment, and when once satisfied of the 
correctness of his position, he has the courage and 
firmness of his Puritan blood in maintaining it. 
It seems to me that it would be little short of polit- 
ical suicide for the legislature to set aside such a 
man. ... It is neither safe nor just to discard 
without excuse or reason a faithful and efficient 
public servant." 

Keferring to this letter. Senator Hoar, after the 
death of Mr. Whittier, wrote to a friend: "It 
would be a sufficient reward for a lifetime of 
strenuous service and sacrifice. I received from 
him once or twice, when the air was full of detrac- 
tion and calumny, loving messages which were 
infinitely precious." 

It could not be otherwise than that Mr. Whit- 
tier should take a lively interest in the philan- 
thropic work of Dorothea L. Dix, and it was his 


custom to give expression by letter to his admira- 
tion for noble and heroic action on whatever field 
of peace it might be displayed. His calls upon 
and letters to Miss Dix when she was enfeebled by 
disease were full of comfort and strength to her, 
as may be seen by one of her replies, dated Tren- 
ton, N. J., June 29, 1883 : — 

"The envelope which incloses this letter has 
long been addressed, but delayed through the vari- 
ations of a long and distressing illness, as inex- 
orable as it is declared incurable, — ossification 
of the lining membranes of the arteries. . . . How 
well I remember with comfort and cheer your calls 
when I was at Danville. You did not suspect the 
good you were doing me ; your presence bringing 
to recollection so much you had written inciting to 
a deeper hope and trust in a Divine Providence, a 
more profound reverence for the great Creator, 
and a deeper conviction of the truths of the gos- 
pel of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus, the Christ. 
I do not think, Mr. Whittier, you have ever real- 
ized the wide-reaching blessing and good of your 
published works. My opportunities for knowing 
very much of this have been large, by personal 
expression, and more through letters. In saying 
this to you, I am both earnest and honest. But, 
dear sir, we must all know in a degree, at least, 
the influence of our lives. . . . Possessing many 
comforts, I yet suffer from the influence of unac- 
customed inaction, which debility enforces. I have 
never suffered from the depression that many real- 
ize from what is called ' low spirits,' but a sense 
of aloneness is experienced. Letters from friends 


are a source of exceeding satisfaction and comfort. 
I have no remembrance of any estrangement from 
an early friend, no break in confidence and trust. 
Few must attain an advanced age without some 
' death in life,' and I have realized very many 
bereavements, especially of late. ... I use the 
pen of a friend for dictation, but add my name by 
my own hand, now much enfeebled." 

Mr. Whittier replied : " Thy letter was very 
welcome, as I had not heard from thee for several 
months. I am pained to hear of thy illness. 
Though still able to go about to some extent, I 
know, and have known for a long time, the pains 
and limitations of age and its infirmities, and can 
enter into sympathy with thee under thy great 
trial. I wish I could look back on a life work as 
noble as thine. I never cease to regret that thee 
did not keep a journal of thy life and labors. The 
world needs it. I came back [from Asquam Lake 
to Amesbury] by the way of my native town of 
Haverhill. I went to the old academy where I 
was fifty-six years ago. Trees that then stood 
green and young before it are now, like myself, 
old and decaying. The faces I knew then are 
nearly all gone. Only the everlasting beauty of 
outward Nature remains unchanged, and the mer- 
ciful Father is over all! The Lord bless thee, 
dear friend, and comfort thee as a mother comfort- 
eth her children ! " 

The summer of 1883 found him again among 
the New Hampshire hills, spending some time at 
Centre Harbor, and in his old haunts by the As- 
quam lakes, from which retreat he wrote to Mrs. 
Pitman, who was at the seashore : — 


" I wish heartily that I were with you, or you with 
ine, on this breezy hilltop, overlooking the love- 
liest lakes of New England. Will you not be able 
to stop at Amesbury on your return ? Joseph and 
Gertrude Cartland are here, and many nice people, 
among whom is a young lady from New York, who 
was with Francesca Alexander in Florence, and is 
mentioned in * The Story of Ida.' We are reading 
Sarah Ome Jewett's charming ' Country Doctor ' 
under the pines." 


AsQUAM House, 7th mo., 1883. 
I wish thee and Sarah could have stayed a day 
longer. The place was, I think, never so beautiful 
as it seemed in the afternoon and evening after 
you left. Such a sunset the Lord never before 
painted. You have gone away with no idea of the 
beauty of these lakes and hills. I meant you 
should have all that sky and summer cloud and 
land and water could give, but Naturfe did not 
carry out my good intentions. But you were here, 
and, so far as I was concerned, the outside world's 
behavior was of small consequence. . . . Our 
house is now very full — packed, I should call it. 
Yesterday I was alarmed by the arrival of two 
more — man and wife — so huge in proportions, 
that I wonder Bamum has not secured them for 
his caravan. The one small room left would not 
hold them, and our landlord gave them their din- 
ner and sent them ofif. If anybody else comes we 
shall be in the condition of Wordsworth's " Party 
in a Parlor : " — 


*^ Crammed just as they on earth were crammed — 
All silent and all damned ! '^ 

I think this rather startling comparison is in his 
" Peter BeU."i 

" The Bay of Seven Islands, and Other Poems,'* 
was published in 1883. One of the poems in this 
volume was "The Book Tomb of Bradore." A 
gentleman in Springfield, Mass., wrote to Mr. 
Whittier, asking : " Is ' The Rock Tomb of Bra- 
dore ' founded on a real incident — a real epitaph ? 
The poem is one that sinks deep into the heart. 
The epitaph writes itself in my memory beside one 
that long since I saw, with my wife, on the wall of 
Durham cathedral — the names of husband and 
wife, a date (two hundred years old), and this: — 

" * We once were two ; 
We two made one ; 
We no more two, 
Though life be gone.' 

These lines of yours are much in my mind — for 
I have just heard of the death of a dear friend, 
whose loss is terrible to us all who knew her — yet 
who now rejoins the husband from whom she has 
been outwardly separated for ten years. I can 
hardly as yet say any word about it — except these 
words of yours. The poem reads as if there were 

1 It was in the first edition only of Peter Bell. Wordsworth 
struck out the passage in subsequent editions. The whole quo- 
tation is as follows : — 

'' Is it a party in a parlor ? 
Craxnin*d just as they on earth were cramm*d — 
Some sipping punch, some sipping tea, * 
But, as yon by their faces see, 
AU silent and aU damn'd I " 


a fact behind it ; am I too inquisitive in seeking 
to know the form of the fact? " 

Mr. Whittier replied : " There is Sb/act behind 
the verses of which thee speak. In a work by an 
English officer, H. Y. Hind, ' Explorations in Lab- 
rador,' two volumes, published a quarter of a cen- 
tury ago, the incident is related of his finding the 
grave of the girl, and I have given the epitaph as 
the author gave it." 

In sending to T. B. Aldrich the copy of the 
poem "At Last" for the "Atlantic," Whittier 
wrote : " As the expression of my deepest religious 
feeling it may not be without interest, and it may 
help some inquiring spirit. Apart from this, I 
think I have succeeded in giving it a form not 
unworthy of the theme." 


Ist mo., 26, 1884. 
I am deeply interested in the struggle going on 
in Upper Egypt. I am glad General Gordon is 
going there. At one time his bravery and saga- 
city nearly abolished the slave trade, and pacified 
the wild tribes of the Soudan. His journal while 
Gordon Pacha of Soudan is one of the most inter- 
esting I ever read. What a place for an artist 
the Soudan would be — if an artist were sure of 
keeping his head on his shoulders! Those fierce 
wild hordes, in all variety of costumes and color, 
with their shields of hippopotamus hide, their 
long spears, and battle-axes, with El Mahdi at 
their head in his woven steel armor, the strange 
desert scenery and relentless sun, would be rare 


subjects for his pencil. I suppose thee can form 
some idea of it from having looked on the Mecca 
caravan at Cairo. 

In 1884, a call was made upon Americans 
interested in antiquarian research for aid to the 
Egyptian exploration fund. Dr. Holmes contrib- 
uted a spade for the unearthing of what he aptly 
described as " truth, historic truth, the mines of 
which have never been worked till our own time." 
Mr. Whittier made a similar contribution, accom- 
panied by the following letter to Rev. W. C. Win- 
slow, the treasurer of the fund: "I am glad to 
have my attention called to the excavation of Zoar. 
The enterprise commends itself to every reader of 
the Bible, and every student of the history and 
monumental wonders of Egypt. I would like to 
have a hand in it. I hesitate a little about dis- 
turbing the repose of some ancient mummy, who 

" ^ Hobnobbed with Pharaoh glass to glass, 
Or dropped a half-penny in Homegr*s hat, 
Or do£Eed his own to let Queen Dido pass,' 

but curiosity gets the best of sentiment, and I 
follow the example of Dr. Holmes by inclosing an 
order on Lieutenant-Governor Ames for one of 
his best shovels." 


4th mo., 5, 1884. 
I think thy " El Mahdi " the most spirited poem 
I have read for years. The wild wind of the des- 
ert blows through it — the fierce sun of the trop- 


ics blazes on it — and it is admirably in keeping. 
Ab one reads, the wild hordes, splendid in color, 
barbaric in their half -nakedness, their lean, dark 
faces ablaze with fanatic fury, are seen sweeping 
across the burning wastes of the Soudan. The 
whole strange and terrible romance of the Moslem 
uprising is condensed in its vigorous and pictur- 
esque Unes. How, on the other hand, does Gen- 
eral Gordon stand out, brave, generous, and self- 
sacrificing, against the background of vacillating 
English, and cruel and cowardly Egyptians ! 


I am not a builder in the sense of Milton's 
phrase of one who could ^^ build the lofty rhyme." 
My vehicles have been of the humbler sort — 
merely the farm wagon and buckboard of verse, 
and not likely to run so long as Dr. Holmes's 
" One Hoss Shay," the construction of which enti- 
tles him to the first place in your association. I 
shall not dare to warrant any of my work for a 
long drive. 

The following inscription was written for a mar- 
ble bust of Hon. Samuel E. Sewall, of Boston, 
modeled by Anne Whitney and placed in the Gary 
Library, Lexington, Mass., May, 1884 : — 


Like that ancestral judge who bore Ids name, 
Faithful to Freedom and to Truth, he gave, 

When all the air was hot with wrath and blame, 
His youth and manhood to the fettered -slave. 

1 Li acknowledgment of election as honorary member. 


And never Woman in her suffering saw 
A helper tender, wise, and brave as he ; 

Lifting her bnrden of nnrighteons law, 
He shamed the breast of ancient chivalry. 

Koiseless as light that melts tiie darkness is, 
He wrought as duty led and honor bid, 

Ko trumpet heralds victories like his, — 
The unselfish worker in his work is hid. 

This fragment, found among Mr. Whittier's 
papers, in his handwriting, evidently belongs to 
some poem he never finished : — 

** The dreadful burden of our sins we feel, 
The pain of wounds which Thou alone canst heal. 
To whom our weakness is our strong appeal. 

** From the black depths, the ashes, and the dross 
Of our waste lives, we reach out to Thy cross, 
And by its fullness measure all our loss I 

*' That holy sign reveals Thee : throned above 
Ko Moloch sits, no false, vindictive Jove — 
Thou art our Father, and Thy name is Love I " ^ 

In June, 1884, Mr. Whittier wrote to Mrs* 
Cartland, " I am anxious to know how you are, 
and whether you will be able to get away about 
the first of next month. I feel the need of a 
change, and I fancy thee and Joseph do. It is 
very warm here now, but it is doubtless cool enough 
at the Asquam House." 

He wrote to Mrs. Fields, from the Asquam 
House, July 16, 1884 : '^ I came here some ten 
days ago. I was far from well when I left home, 

^ This is an alternative reading which has been canceled : — 
" No lawless Terror dweUs in light above, 
Gruel as Moloch, deaf and false as Jove — 
Thou art our Father, and Thy name is Love ! ** 


the journey was a hard one for me, and I have not 
had a head equal to anything more than lying 
under the trees, and listening to cousin Ger- 
trude's reading occasionally. In some respects I 
am better than when I left home, but I have not 
borrowed 'the strength of the hills' as yet. 
Would it be possible for thee and Sarah to come 

After spending July with his friends at Holder- 
ness, he joined a party to pass a few days at Os- 
sipee Park, whence he wrote to his cousin Ger- 
trude, 8th mo., 9, 1884 : " We reached this place 
about half past twelve o'clock, having been two 
and a half hours on the road. The boy who drove 
us did not know the way, got out of it twice, and 
carried us nearly to Sandwich. I was very tired 
when we arrived at the Park, and slept none that 
night. I am glad thee did not attempt the ride. 
The place is very fine in many respects, but I pre- 
fer Asquam. The view of the lake is very beau- 
tiful, but it is the only outlook. The house is 
pleasant, and richly and tastefully furnished. 
Yesterday the people from Ossipee Camp who 
visited us at Weirs came here, and I had a pleas- 
ant handshaking with them." 

On leaving the Asquam House Whittier atid his 
friends spent some time at Sturtevant's Farm, 
about a mile above Centre Harbor, where they 
found more quiet than the hotel afforded ; under 
the shade of the large pine-tree overlooking the 
lakes many delightful hours were enjoyed, which 
are commemorated in his poem "The Wood 
Giant," written on the spot. Here he was joined 


by his valued friend Rev. Julius W. Atwood, who 
henceforward usually spent the whole or a part of 
his summer vacation with the Whittier party. The 
following extracts from a letter of Mr. Atwood's 
give pleasant glimpses of Mr. Whittier's daily life 
during his summerings, and show the sprightly 
and thoughtful tone of his delightful talks. Mr. 
Atwood says: "Although Mr. Whittier had no 
fondness for society in a technical sense, no one 
more keenly enjoyed his friends ; and his rich fund 
of anecdote, his remarkable memory of events, of 
literature, and of persons, and his sparkling hu- 
mor and delicate tact made him a most charming 
companion. After breakfast it was our practice 
to assemble in the parlor for reading the Bible and 
other devotional books, which often led to interest- 
ing discussion ; then we would scatter to our re- 
spective occupations, Mr. Whittier generally going 
to his room to answer some of his innumerable 
letters. Later on we would meet again in social 
groups, or wend our way through the lovely wood- 
land path to the majestic pine, beneath whose 
shadow, and with the wide prospect of lake and 
mountain stretching before us, we spent many 
happy hours with books and papers and talk, or, 
as Mr. Whittier expressed it, ' in listless quietude 
of mind,' often lingering to witness the glorious 
sunset reflections upon lake and cloud, and the 
afterglow upon the mountains. In one of our 
talks I asked him how it seemed to be famous. 
To which he replied : ' I object to the word as ap- 
plied to myself — which has always been distaste- 
ful to me. I prefer to call it notoriety. The 


great satisfaction that has come to me through 
my writings has been that it has brought me the 
friendship of some people, whom otherwise I should 
not have known, whom I love, and who love me. 
There are ajgreat many good and interesting peo- 
ple in the world, and I have been favored to meet 
many of them.' Speaking one day of modem 
writers, he said, ^ I regard Emerson as foremost in 
the rank of American: poets ; he has written better 
things than any of us.' It was always a delight to 
hear his comments upon the public men he had 
known, from John Quincy Adams down to our 
own time. While retaining a lively interest in all 
literary and political matters and keeping abreast 
of current events, he dwelt most intently in his 
later years upon the great spiritual and eternal 
realities of God. By the open fire in the even- 
ing he would- talk for hours upon sacred themes, 
ever grateful for the rich blessings of his life and 
looking with reverent curiosity towards the future, 
often saying he should not only be willing but 
glad to go in God's own time, but that he was also 
glad to live. There was not a shadow of doubt in 
his mind concerning the immortality of the soul, 
and one day when speaking of his own hope and 
expectation for the life to come, he sadly said, ^ I 
wish Emerson could have believed this.' It sad- 
dened him to feel that one whom he so deeply loved 
and revered had not been sustained by this most 
passionate longing of our human nature. ' He 
never seemed to care to discuss the subject,' said 
Mr. Whittier; 'but near the close of his life, when 
our conversation had turned upon it, and! saw him 


for the last time, lie said, " Come to Concord and 
see me, and we will let our buckets deep down into 
tlie well and see what we can draw up." ' 

^' From year to year we noticed his increasing 
feebleness : his walks were a little shorter and 
less frequent, his seasons of rest longer, and as 
his summer resorts became known he felt the ne- 
cessity of a change to avoid a tiresome influx of 
visitors. For this reason he abandoned his haunts 
by the Asquam lakes, and one year would find 
him at Conway, another at Green Acre, another 
at Wakefield ; but wherever it was our privilege 
to accompany him, the remembrance of those days 
must remain as a benediction." 


8th mo., 1884 

Poet, essayist, novelist, humorist, scientist, ripe 
scholar, and wise philosopher, if Dr. Holmes 
does not at the present time hold in popular esti- 
mation the first place in American literature, his 
rare versatility, is the cause. In view of the inimi- 
table prose-writer, we forget the poet ; in our ad- 
miration of his melodious verse, we lose sight of 
" Elsie Venner " and " The Autocrat of the Break- 
fast-Table." We laugh over his wit and humor, 
until, to use his own words, — 

" We suspect the azure blossom that imf olds npon a shoot, 
As if Wisdom's old potato could not flourish at its root ; " 

and perhaps the next page melts us into tears by a 
pathos only equaled by that of Sterne's sick Lieu- 
tenant. He is Montaigne and Bacon under one 

^ On the occasion of the birthday of Dr. Holmes. 


hat. His varied qualities would suffice for the 
mental furnishing of half a dozen literary special- 
ists. To those who have enjoyed the privilege of 
his intimate acquaintance, the man himself is more 
than the author. His genial nature, entire freedom 
from jealousy or envy, quick tenderness, large 
charity, hatred of sham, pretense, and unreality, 
and his reverent sense of the eternal and perma- 
nent, have secured for him something more and 
dearer than literary renown — the love of all who 
know him. I might say much more ; I could not 
say less. May his life he long in the land I 

Whittier once said in conversation : " Sup- 
pose such a poem as any of Dr. Holmes's recent 
ones should be found with the name of any of the 
old masters of song attached to it, would it not add 
to the reputation of the ancient worthy ? What if 
one of the least of Holmes's poems should be attrib- 
uted to Ben Jonson; would it not increase Jon- 
son's fame ? I do not like the fanciful conceits of 
the old school. Moore is now forgotten but for 
his songs ; Byron is going out of fashion ; Burns 
lives, — perhaps partly because of the clannishness 
of the Scotch." 

These lines were written in the album of a 
grandson of his life-long friend, Theodore D. Weld, 
in April, 1884 : — 

What shall I wish him ? Strength and health 

May be abused, and so may wealth. 

Even fame itself may come to be 

But wearying notoriety. 

What better can I ask than this ? — 

A life of brave unselfishness, 


Wisdom for connoil, eloquence 
For Freedom's need, for Truth's defense, 
The championship of all that 's g^ood, 
The manliest faith in womanhood, 
The steadfast friendship changing not 
With changfe of time or place or lot, 
Hatred of sin, but not the less 
A heart of pitying tenderness 
And charity, that, suffering long, 
Shames the wrong-doer from his wrong: 
One wish expresses all — tiiat he 
May even as his grandsire be I 


Danvebs, 12ih mo., 12, 1884. 
I shall hope to be in Amesbury the last of this 
month, for it is lonely here this season. I shall 
of course miss the furnace-warmed house here, but 
I shall see some of my old neighbors and friends 
and look at familiar faces. . . . Somehow those 
who knew and loved my sister seem nearest to 




The burden of his correspondence became a 
serious matter to Mr. Whittier in his later years, 
for it increased as old age robbed him of the 
strength to bear it. He had no taste for dictating 
letters ; it was easier for him to write them with 
his own hand, and he seldom called for help in 
answering the letters he received. A letter from 
any old friend was laid aside for the earliest pos- 
sible answer from his own hand. Until it became 
a physical impossibility to attend to them, all re- 
quests for autographs were answered. In many 
cases he copied stanzas and whole poems to accom- 
modate a stranger ; and many an album contains 
original verses of his, that have never been made 
public. He was accustomed to write in the morn- 
ing, rising early, and finishing most of his corre- 
spondence before breakfast. He seldom used the 
gold pens and handsome inkstands that were sent 
him, but put them aside as ornaments, contenting 
himself with steel pens, which he dipped in the 
little bottles of ink he bought of his stationer. 
He had no patience with the new-fangled fountain 
pens and stylographs. The typewriter was not 
perfected in season for him. He wrote rapidly 


a clear, legible hand. He liad no system of short- 
hand, but his first drafts of poems and letters are 
exceedingly difficult to decipher, the words being 
run together without crossing of the t or dotting 
of Uie i, and with a bewildering network of inter- 
lineation and erasure. 

The hardest part of his work was correspon- 
dence with poor souls who,' having tried every 
other resource in a vain effort to make a living, at 
last turned their attention to literature. They 
came for advice to one who had been successful. 
His never-failing kindness of heart and his quick 
sympathies did not allow him to dismiss such cases 
without helpful consideration, and be had the mer- 
ciful skill to bind up every wound it was necessary 
to inflict. Whenever there was urgent need* of 
pecuniary assistance, even from strangers at a dis- 
tance, as soon as he was satisfied of the need help 
was given, and his benefactions of this nature were 

There are many amusing incidents in connection 
with calls made upon him for autographs, and for 
criticism of manuscripts sent him by those who 
had no claim upon his attention. His fear of 
slighting any one who had a genuine interest in 
him or his work led him to err on what he consid- 
ered the safe side in this matter. His first im- 
pulse was always a kind one, — to grant whatever 
favor was asked of him. A great number of young 
writers submitted their first verses for his criticism 
— or rather approval. K he saw any sign of tal- 
ent he had some pleasant word for his correspon- 
dent, even if he could not give much encourage- 


ment. His advice was invariable, not to depend 
upon verse-making for a livelihood. He frequently 
received abusive letters because the demands made 
upon him were not answered in the way desired. 
A man in Arkansas sent back the autograph for 
which he had called, because a poem had not ac- 
companied it. He named several poets who had 
thus accommodated him, and his collection was too 
valuable to be cheapened by having a simple name 
in it I He wished nothing at all if he could not 
have what he called for. 

Mr. Whittier was once called up at midnight 
by a large party of students from the Phillips 
Exeter Academy, who explained that they were 
belated by accident. They had started, each with 
an autograph book, with the expectation of meet- 
ing him at a more seasonable hour. He arose 
and dressed himself and received a party of young 
men who filled his house, and set about writing in 
all their books. As they were leaving, very pro- 
fuse in their thanks, one of them looked at his 
book, and exclaimed : " You have written only 
John in my book I " "I am afraid some of you 
have not got as much as that," he replied, as he 
took up his candle and bade them good-night. 

The calls upon him for letters that might be 
used to help the sale of books and pictures were 
numerous, and whenever he could conscientiously * 
do so, he was ready to offer such assistance. When 
Prang published the fine picture illustrating Whit- 
tier's " Barefoot Boy," he wrote words of high 
praise for the artist's work. Rival publishers is- 
sued inferior copies of the painting, and had the 


impudence to quote Whittier's words as applying 
to their work, whereupon he wrote this letter to 
Mr. Prang : " I have heard of writers who could 
pass judgment upon works of art without seeing 
them ; but the part assigned me by this use of my 
letter to thee, making me the critic of a thing not 
in existence, adds to their ingenuity the gift of 
prophecy. It seems to be hazardous to praise any- 
thing. There is no knowing to what strange uses 
one's words may be put. When a good deal 
younger than I am now, I addressed some lauda- 
tory lines to Henry Clay ; but the newspapers 
soon transferred them to Thomas H. Benton, and it 
was even said that the saints of Nauvoo made them 
do duty in the apotheosis of the prophet Joseph 
Smith. My opinions as an art-critic are not worth 
much to the public ; and, as they seem to be as 
uncertain and erratic in their directions as an Aus- 
tralian boomerang, I shall, I think, be chary in 
future of giving them. I don't think I should 
dare speak favorably of the Venus de Medici^ as I 
might expect to find my words affixed to some bar- 
room lithograph of the bearded woman." 

He was generous in his contributions to all phil- 
anthropic and reformatory work, without regard 
to race or nationality. This was a service which 
his religion demanded, — its dominant note was 
" help for the helpless." Worthy young men and 
women, struggling for an education, or about to 
enter upon business, found in him a wise and ever- 
ready counselor and assistant, and his sympa- 
thetic insight sometimes revealed the needs of 
others, and enabled him to render timely aid to 


those who, perhaps, ne^er knew whence their relief 

In 1884, Charles F. Cof&n, of Lynn, a member 
of the Society of Friends, who enjoyed the intimate 
friendship of the poet, presented to the Friends' 
School at Providence, B* L, a portrait of Whit- 
tier painted by Edgar Parker. It is life-size, and 
represents him as seated in an arm-chair in an 
attitude of peaceful thought. On the occasion of 
the presentation, an address was delivered by 
Thomas Chase, President of Haverford College. 
A letter from James Russell Lowell, then minister 
to England, was read, which was accompanied by 
this sonnet: — 

J* New England's poet, rich in lore as yean, 

Her hiUs and TaUeys praise thee, her swift brooks 
Dance in thy yerse ; to her graye sylyan nooks 

Thy steps aUure ns, which the wood-thmsh hears 

As maids their loyers', and no treason fears. 
Through thee her Merrimacs and Ag^ochooks 
And many a name uncouth win gracious looks, 

Sweetly familiar to both Englands' ears. 

Peaceful by birthright as a yirgin lake, 
The lily's anchorage, which no eyes behold 

Saye those of stars, yet for thy brother^s sake. 
That lay in bonds, thou blew'st a blast as bold 

As that wherewith the heart of Roland brake, 
Far heard across the New World and the Old." 

A letter from John Bright was also read, ex- 
pressing his regret at not being able to be present. 
He said in closing : — 

" In the poem of ' Snow-Bound ' there are lines 
on the death of the poet's sister which have no- 
thing superior to them in beauty and pathos in our 
language. I have read them often with always 


increasing admiration. I have sufPered from the 
loss of those near and dear to me, and I can apply 
the lines to my own case and feel as if they were 
written for me. ^ The Eternal Goodness ' is an- 
other poem which is worth a crowd of sermons 
which are spoken from the pulpits of oiir sects and 
churches, which I do not wish to undervalue. It 
is a great gift to mankind when a poet is raised up 
among us who devotes his great powers to the sub- 
lime purpose of spreading among men principles of 
mercy and justice and freedom. This our friend 
Whittier has done in a degree unsurpassed by any 
other poet who has spoken to the world in our 
noble tongue. I feel it a great honor that my Ibust 
should stand in your hall near the portrait of your 
great poet." 

The career of General Gordon, who lost his life 
at Khartoum, had a great fascination for Mr. Whit- 
tier, and he often expressed his admiration of his 
character, as a Christian and philanthropist, of 
course, and not as a soldier. In March, 1885, Mr. 
Whittier received a letter from his friend, John 
Bright, who had left Gladstone's cabinet on ac- 
count of the Egyptian policy of the government, 
severely criticising him, as a member of the Soci- 
ety of Friends, for some expression of his in favor 
of Gordon, which had been made public in Eng- 
land. Mr. Whittier had been called upon by Mr. 
Charles C. Eeed, of London, to write an ode to 
the memory of Gordon. To this request Mr. 
Whittier had replied, imder date of March 4, 
1886: — 

" Thy letter found me pondering the very subject 


to which it so kindly sought to call my attention. 
For years I have followed General Gordon's 
course with constantly increasing interest, wonder, 
and admiration, and I have felt his death as a 
great personal bereavement. A Providential man, 
his mission in an imbelieving and selfish age re- 
vealed the mighty power of faith in God, self-ab- 
negation, and the enthusiasm of humanity. For 
centuries no grander figure has crossed the disk of 
our planet. Unique, unapproachable in his mar- 
velous individuality, he belongs to no sect or 
party, and defies classification or comparison. I 
should be sorry to see his name used for party 
purposes, for neither Conservative nor Radical has 
any special claim upon him. . . . We Americans, 
in common with all English-speaking people, the 
world over, lament his death, and share his glori- 
ous memory. 

" I wish it were in my power to do what thee 
so kindly suggest, but I scarcely feel able to do jus- 
tice, at this time, to the wonderful personality which 
for the past year has stood on the banks of the 
Nile, relieved against the dark background of the 
Soudan. I have been suffering from illness, and 
dare not undertake the eulogy of such a man with 
a feeble hand. Perhaps it may some time be in 
my power, as it is now in my inclination, to put my 
thoughts of him into material form. If I could 
reach the ear of Alfred Tennyson,^ I should urge 

^ Mr. Reed writes : ** I commnnioated this to Lord Tennyson, 
and in addition to cordially thanking me for the extract from Mr. 
Whittier^B letter, as above, Lord Tennyson wrote Mr. Whittier aa 
foUows:" — 


him to give the world a threnody inspired by the 
life and death of one who has made not only 
England but the world richer for his memory." 

An extract from this characteristic letter was 
sent by Mr. Heed to an English paper, Mr. Whit- 
tier offering no objection, although it was not orig- 
inally written for publication. The long letter of 
protest from John Bright, referred to above, was 
called out by the publication of this extract. 
Bright's letter, covering eight pages of note-paper, 
is not here published, permission not having been 
received. But Whittier's reply may properly 
have place in these pages. It was dated 8d mo., 
31,1885: — 

My dear Friend, — I regret the publication of 
my hasty private note to C. C. Reed, as it has oc- 
casioned thee uneasiness. I quite agree with thee 
as regards the armed interference with Egypt and 
the Soudan, and I think one of the best acts of 
thy life was thy withdrawal, from the ministry in 
consequence of it. But as respects Charles Gor- 
don, I cannot withdraw my admiration from the 
man, while I disapprove of his warlike methods. 

Deab Mb. WHiTTiEit, — Your request has been forwarded to 
me, and I herein send you an epitaph for Qordon in our West- 
minster Abbey — that is, for his cenotaph : — 

** Warrior of God, man^s friend, not here below, 
But aomewhere dead far in the waste Soudan ; 
Thou livoBt in all hearts, for all men know 
This earth hath borne no simpler, nobler man." 

With best wishes, yours very faithfully, Tennyson. 

Mr. Reed adds : " Mr. Whittier told me afterwards that he 
wanted not four lines only, but something like Tennyson's Ode 
on the Duke of Wellingtons^ 



I learned much of him from my friend, Dr. Wil- 
liams, who knew him well in China, and who 
thought him one of the most generous and self- 
sacrificing men he ever knew. Still later, I have 
read of his labors in the Soudan to suppress the 
dreadful slave trade, and it seems to me that he 
went to Khartoum once more really on an errand 
of peace, and I am not sure that he would not 
have succeeded if the English army had not in- 
vaded the Soudan. It is not probable that I shall 
write a poem on his life and death, but I thought 
of it, and intended to express my admiration of his 
faith, courage, and self-abnegation, while lament- 
ing his war training and his reliance on warlike 
means to accomplish a righteous end. As it is, he 
was a better man than David or Joshua — he was 
humane and never put his prisoners into brick-kilns 
nor under hammers. And he believed in a living 
God, who reveals himself now as in the old time. 
There seems to be no excuse now for keeping Gea- 
eral Wolseley in the Soudan. I see no reason for 
fighting the Arabs, who surely are not to blame 
for disliking the rule of Egypt. I hope the danger 
of a war between England and Bussia has passed 
away. The matter at issue is one to be settled by 
arbitration, not by the sword. I wish we could say 
that my country is Christian. Our new Secretary 
of State has spoken out manfully and strongly 
against the dynamite mischief. The past winter 
has been a hard one for me, and I am far from 
well. Hoping that thy own health is good, I am 
with love and sincere regard thy friend. 



3d mo., 24, 1886. 
I see there is a great deal of criticism of " A 
Reasonable Faith." ^ Those who deny the divine 
revelation of the Holy Spirit, and who regard the 
letter of the Bible as the sole authority in Christian 
faith, I suppose would be alarmed by it. And those 
who have looked without a word of dissent upon 
the work of destruction which has been going on 
in our Society for the last decade will, of course, 
continue it, as well as those in England who have 
been giving aid and comfort to the disorganizers 
here. However sound and evangelical a man may 
be, if he does not use their language and pro- 
nounce their " Shibboleth " he must be put down. 
All this, however, can really harm no one person- 
ally, though it is a sad evidence of the demoraliza- 
tion of our Society. 


6th mo., 16, 1885. 
From all that I have heard of mediumship it 
seems to affect unfavorably the moral sense — the 
distinction between true and false is 'less clear. 
Mediums are first deceived themselves, and they 
are tempted to deceive others. Their actions have 
the irresponsibility of dreams ; they live and move 
in an unnatural atmosphere, where it is neither 
full daylight, nor yet utter darkness ; an uncertain 
twilight in which things may seem^ which are not. 
The more I think of it, the more I am convinced 

1^ Beasonable Faith: Short Essays for the Times, By three 
English Friends. 


that, for the present, the whole matter may be best 
left to the cool heads of the Psychical Besearch. 
The future life is sure — our dear ones live ; but we 
may separate ourselves further from them, by con- 
sulting imcertain oracles, deceiving and being de- 
ceived. Let us believe, and trust, and wait ^^ Pa- 
tience," Milton says, " is the exercise of saints,'* 
and it may not be unprofitable for us sinners. 


4th mo., 25, 1885. 
The Indian question is pressing for solution upon 
the United States as well as the Dominion of Can- 
ada. It is one of great difficulty, and requires not 
only political wisdom but Christian philanthropy 
for its adjustment, both of which seem to me indi- 
cated in thy speech in the Canadian Senate. I 
heartily thank thee for it. 

Mr. Whittier's voice in reading poetry, whether 
his own or others', was fuller and stronger than in 
ordinary conversation or in reading prose. There 
was a depth and sonorousness in it that would 
surprise any one who, accustomed only to his con- 
versation, heard him read verse for the first time. 
If he could have read in public with the same voice 
he used in a small company of friends, an audience 
of thousands would have been delighted with his 
rendering of a poem. Of the poet's manner of 
reading his own verses, a writer in the " Portland 
Transcript " says : — 

^ On reading his speech in the Canadian Parliament, in behalf 
of the Indians. 


" One evening at the Sturtevants', we were talk- 
ing of the immense pine we had seen in the pas- 
ture, and Mr. Whittier said he had just written 
*a little ditty' about it. His cousin Gertrude 
asked if he would not let us hear it, and without 
hesitation he read his noble poem *The Wood 
Giant.' His voice in reading was of a quality 
entirely different from that in conversation — 
much fuller and deeper. The lines were scanned 
with a majestic movement, and the slight hoarse- 
ness which has for several years affected his voice 
added to the effect of the reading; an audience 
of a thousand people could have heard every 
syllable. This stanza was read with especial im- 
pressiveness : — 

** ' Was it the half-nnconscious moan 
Of one apart and mateless, 
The weariness of unshared power, 
The loneliness of greatness ? ' 

"Taking from the table a volume of Trow- 
bridge's poems he turned to ' At Sea,' remarking 
that it was the best work of this writer, * and no- 
thing better of its kind was ever written by any- 
body.' He then read the poem aloud, with the 
same full, deep voice with which he had rendered 
his own lines." 

After his return from his summer in New Hamp- 
shire in 1885, he wrote from Amesbury to a friend : 
" I have returned to this place after some weeks' 
sojourn among the hills, and I think on the whole 
I am better for the change, but it would take the 
Himalayas and the Andes to make me feel young 
again. We had pleasant weather and pleasant 


friends, and we are thankful for the days spent 
under the pines at Asquam." 


lOUi mo., 2, 1885. 
I have been thinking of thy gracious and gener- 
ous proposal of hospitality. It has made me very 
happy, though I have not been able to see how I 
can avail myself of it. I find that I am unable to 
bear the excitement of city life for any length of 
time, however carefully I may be shielded by my 
friends. I am unhappily notorious, and cannot 
hide myself. My deafness makes me confused and 
uncomfortable when strangers are present. The 
great and really painful effort I am compelled to 
make when in company, to listen and try to un- 
derstand, and make fitting replies, and the uncer- 
tainty I feel, when I venture to speak, whether I 
have heard aright — all this affects my nerves, and 
costs me nights of sleeplessness and days of weari- 
ness. In fact I am what the Turks call '' a cut-off 
one," so far as society is concerned. ... As soon 
as it is known that I am in your premises a steady 
stream of interviewers, autograph - hunters, and 
people with missions will flow in upon you. It 
would be like having a waif from Barnum's Mu- 
seum shut up in your library, and people coming 
in .to see what it looks like. It would make your 
life miserable. Sarah's dog could not keep them 
off. You would have to get out a writ of ejectment 
and set me and my carpet-bag into the street — and 
yet how I wish I could say " yes " I I thank the 
good Providence that has given me such a friend, 


dear as Vittoria Colonna to Michael Angelo. I 
wish I could look forward to the enjoyment of 
such friendship for many years in this life, but 
when one is approaching fourscore that is not to 
be expected. Though for that matter, I see that 
Senator Hoar, in his great speech of day before 
yesterday at Springfield, took occasion to deny the 
self-evident fact that I am an old man ! . . . I had 
a rare good visit from Dr. Holmes and his wife the 
other day. We two old boys wandered about in 
the woods, talking of many things — half merry, 
half sad. We were stranded mariners, the sur- 
vivors of a lost crew, warming ourselves at a fire 
kindled from the wreck of our vessel. . • . The 
woods here are blazing with color, but I fail to see 
the red against the green. Both look the same. 
But the walnuts and maples are glorious, making 
sunshine when there is none in the heavens. 


11th mo., 11, 1885. 

I have long known John Woolman and delighted 
in his Journals. And I have been well aware how 
the first honor of the anti-slavery work belongs to 
the Society of Friends. If only other religious 
bodies had been as ready for their duty, how differ- 
ent it might have been ! Archdeacon Farrar left 
me on Monday. He will never forget — as I surely 
shall not — the kind and cordial welcome which 
you gave us, and the time which it was our privilege 
to pass with you. I have had much to thank you 
for before, very much indeed. Now it is a pleas- 
ure to assure you most earnestly of my respect and 
deepened gratitude. 



2d mo., 9, 1886. 
There was nothing of the gloom and horror of a 
Puritanic funeral. All was quiet and peaceful, 
and more than hopeful. The full assurance of the 
all-enfolding love of the Heavenly Father seemed 
with the friends and relatives. It was a cheerful 
acceptance, rather than resignation to the inevita- 
ble. Was it a delusion, a forced make-believe, or 
the faith which robs the grave of its victory ? 

This poem, entitled "A Day's Journey," was 
written in 1886, for the tenth anniversary of the 
wedding of his niece : — 

After your pleasant morning travel 

You pause as at a wayside inn, 
And take with grateful hearts your breakfast 

Though served in dishes all of tut. 

Then go, while years as hours are counted, 

Until the dial's hand at noon 
Invites you to a dinner table 

Garnished with Bii<y£B fork and spoon. 

And when the vesper bell to supper 

Is calling, and the day is old, 
May love transmute the tin of morning 

And noonday's silver into gold. 

His summer visit in 1886 was to Centre Harbor 
and the Sturtevant Farm, whither the Cartlands 
and Lucy Larcom accompanied him. His letters 
to his friends from these places give evidence of 
hearty enjoyment of walks and readings under 
the oaks and pines. In autumn, after bis return 

^ After attending the funeral of a lovely young girl, where the 
services were conducted in the Swedenborg^n form. 


to Amesbury, he wrote that he wished he could go 
back to the mountains and '' see the woods tangled 
with rainbows." 


8th mo., 29, 1886. 
I was glad to hear from thee, and that thee find 
the quiet of Ossipee Park, the crowd and fash- 
ion of the Crawford House, alike interesting. It 
is possible to be too quiet, and a change from 
solitary Nature to human contact and voices is 
sometimes desirable. There are always nice people 
to be found in any crowd. For my own part, I 
like folks generally. Very few come amiss to me. 


9th mo., 3, 1886. 
I appreciate the serious question which agitates 
Great Britain at this time, and I do not feel that 
I fully understand it. I doubt the propriety of 
our meddling with it on this side of the water. 
It has indeed occurred to me that a federa- 
tive system in which Ireland, Scotland, Canada, 
Austria, and India could all be represented in the 
common Parliament of England, might be a solu- 
tion of the question, but there may be difficulties 
which I do not comprehend in the way of such an 
arrangement. ... I hope the years rest more 
lightly on thee than on myself. I am older (in 
my 79th year) and find my strength failing, 
though I am grateful to a good Providence for 
many blessings which alleviate the pains and infir- 
mities of age. I am, very truly, thy loving and 
grateful friend. 



lOtih mo., 188a. 

I spent last summer among the New Hampshire 
hills, as I have done for several years. Natare 
never disappoints me. I think every year of my 
life makes me more sensitive to the beauty all 
about us. At times, a great feeling of loneliness 
comes over me ; I miss sadly the old dear faces, 
and think of the days that are no more. My life 
has not proved what I dreamed of in youth, but 
1 suppose that is true of all. My world is really 
composed of a few dear friends. I wish I could 
see thee and talk over our old recollections, and I 
shall hope to do so if we both live to another sum- 
mer. I hope our meeting will be in Amesbury, for 
somehow I always associate thee with that place. 


lOih mo., 1888. 
I expect to go to Amesbury the first of next 
week to meet my niece Elizabeth Pickard, and to 

vote at election. I shall not vote for . He 

and the rest of the so-called Independents have 
gone over entirely to the Democratic party. I 
am a Republican still. If my party makes a bad 
nomination, I shall not vote it, but shall not stul- 
tify myself by going over to a party which has 
done its worst to destroy the Union and sustain 


12th mo., 18, 1886. 
What words can adequately thank thee for thy 
rare poem — too beautiful for its subject — which 


greeted me on my birthday ! I felt while reading 
it as if I were enjoying myself under false pre- 
tenses, and appropriating something that belonged 
to somebody else. I began to doubt my identity, 
like the man coming from town-meeting after hd 
had been chosen selectman, and who, overwhelmed 
with his honors, began to feel that he could not 
be himself, and was only reassured by calling his 
dog, and finding himself recognized. Seriously, 
the poem is a very fine one, and I am just as 
grateful as if I deserved it. 

"Saint Gregory's Guest, and Eecent Poems," 
published in 1886, contained sixteen poems beside 
the verses which gave the title to the book, most 
of them written after Mr. Whittier had passed his 
seventy-fifth year. They include "The Home- 
stead," "The Wood Giant," "Revelation," "Ban- 
ished from Massachusetts," " The Two Eliza- 
beths," " Sweet Fern," " How the Robin Came," 
" Birchbrook Mill," and " Hymns of the Brahmo 

The origin of the poem "The Light that is 
Felt" is explained in the following letter from 
Mrs. George A. Palmer, of Elmira, N. Y. : 
" When my oldest daughter was two and a half 
years old, she knew Whittier's ' Barefoot Boy ' by 
heart, thus: When I would repeat it to her the 
omission of a line would be instantly corrected ; as 
one day she said to me, ' Mamma, you skipted out 
"apples of Cusperides." ' Once, in going ahead 
of me in a dark hall, she turned with sudden fear, 
and said, ' Manmia, take hold of my hand, so it 


will not be so dark.' This incident and the fact 
of her affection for Mr. Whittier's poetry was re- 
ported to him by a friend of the family. My 
surprise and delight were great when, in April, 
1884, 1 received a kind letter from the poet and a 
manuscript copy of the poem, which was afterward 
published in the Christmas number of * St. Nicho- 
las.' In his letter Mr. Whittier said, ' I am glad 
I have such a friend in thy little girl. Her good 
opinion of my verses is worth more to me than 
that of a learned reviewer. I send a rhymed par- 
aphrase of her own beautiful thought.' " 

Soon after ** The Homestead " appeared, Mr. 
Whittier wrote to Mrs. Pitman : " I am glad thee 
liked * The Homestead.' I saw in the country sev- 
eral of these melancholy spectacles of abandoned 
homes. I think the farmers of New England 
are better off as a class, on their hard soil, than 
those who are on the rich lands of the West. 
They are not rich, but they are not poor; they 
live comfortably, and as a rule own their farms 
clear of mortgage. If they were content to live 
and toil as the poorer farmers in the West do, 
they would double their deposits in the savings 
banks." About this poem Sarah Ome Jewett 
wrote : " I do not know when anything has 
touched me so nearly and dearly. Nobody has 
mourned more than I over the forsaken farm- 
houses which I see everywhere as I drive about 
the country out of which I grew, and where every 
bush and tree seem like my cousins ! I hope this 
will make people stop and think, and I know it 
will bring tears to many eyes. That line about 


the squirrel in the forsaken house nobody else 
would have thought of but you. I send all the 
thanks one little letter can cany." 


2d mo., 12, 1887. 
I hasten to thank thee for thy beautiful gift^ 
which brings the fragrance of the pine woods to 
me. I shall have a softer pillow than Jacob of 
old had, and if I do not see ^^ angels ascending 
and descending," I shall dream of the kind friend 
who sent it, which is quite as well. As old Father 
Taylor said, when asked if he did n't want to go 
where the angels were: "I don't want angels; I 
like folks better!". . . There is nothing better 
than work for mind and body. It makes the 
burden of sorrow, which all must sooner or later 
carry, lighter. I like the wise Chinese proverb : 
"You cannot prevent the birds of sadness from 
flying over your head, but you may prevent them 
from stopping to build their nests in your hair ! " 


2d mo., 22, 1887. 
Some of my friends in Boston are puzzling 
themselves with the Buddhist Theosophy, and have 
got a Hindoo adept, one Mohini, a solemn-faced 
Oriental, to expound its mysteries. And the So- 
ciety for Psychical Research are gathering up all 
the stories afloat of signs and omens and appari- 
tions, witchcraft, and spiritualism — a competi- 
tive examination of ghosts I I have rather enjoyed 
reading the reports of a similar society in Eng- 


land. The investigations are conducted on strictly 
scientific principles. I hope some clue may be 
found to the great mjrstery of life and death — 
and the beyond I But I scarcely expect it. We 
shall still have to trust and wonder, and keep our 
faith, with Emerson, that " whatever is excellent, 
as God lives is permanent." 

In March, 1887, Rev. John W. Chadwick, 
D. D., of Brooklyn, wrote the following letter to 
Mr. Whittier, embodyiug a suggestion that was to 
some extent heeded in the edition of his complete 
works published in 1888 : " In connection with cer- 
tain studies, 1 have done much reading lately in 
your poems, already long well known, and I now 
write to beg of you that ere it is too late you will 
prepare an edition of them with little paragraphs 
attached — headings rather than notes — indicat- 
ing the circumstances which called them forth. I 
am sure that such an edition would be very wel- 
come, and that it would be immensely useful in the 
way of instruction concerning many a feature of 
the anti-slavery struggle. Your poems will be read 
much more than any history. You would have an 
ample precedent in the edition of Wordsworth con- 
taining such paragraphs, and you must know how 
highly these paragraphs are esteemed. Many of 
your personal poems, like that on our old friends, 
the Coxes of Kennett Square, would get new in- 
terest from a few words of explanation. Will you 
not think very seriously of this ? I am sure you 
could do nothing that would so much increase the 
debt of gratitude we owe to you already." 


This is Mr. Whittier's reply : " I thank thee 
for the kind suggestions of thy letter, and should 
be glad to do something in accordance with them, 
if I did not fear it would seem to be attaching too 
much importance on my part to my writings, when 
in sober fact I see and feel their deficiencies so 
clearly that sometimes I turn from them with 
utter weariness. And secondly, I feel the weight 
of years growing very heavy, and any task beyond 
that of the necessary routine of daily impera- 
tive duty, I shrink f roril. ' The grasshopper is 
a burden.' I will, however, bear thy suggestion 
in mind, and if my health and strength permit, 
I may yet see my way clear to act to some extent 
upon it." 

In 1887, he wrote to an aged friend in New 
Bedford, Daniel Ricketson, that Boston had lost 
much of its old attraction for him, since Emerson, 
Longfellow, Fields, and other friends had passed 
away, and added, " I try to get into the fields and 
woods as often as I feel able. Nature never disap- 
points me — never tires me. I think in love of 
Nature, and simple quiet living, thee and I are 
much alike. We both find solace in rhythmic 
lines, and we both loved Emerson and Thoreau. 
I am nearer the great mystery than thyself, but 
we are both almost at its gate. May the dear God 
be with us ! " On another occasion, he wrote to 
the same friend, in regard to some great strikes 
then in progress : " My sympathies are naturally 
with the laboring class, amidst which I was bom 
and grew up to manhood. But I confess that I 
have never known much benefit to result to that 


class from * strikes.' I do not know enough of 
this particular movement to feel authorized in ex- 
pressing a decided opinion." 

In 1887, a township in southern California, 
near Los Angeles, was named for Mr. Whittier, 
and its Quaker founders sent him a deed of a lot 
of land on its central square. In his letter ac- 
knowledgiog the compliment he wrote: "The 
great tide of emigration to southern California 
will not fail to fill up the vacant lots and outlying 
farms of the Quaker city. I use that term in no 
sectarian sense, for I see the good in all denomina- 
tions, and hope that all will be represented in the 
settlement. I trust that its Quakerism will be of 
the old, practical kind, ^ diligent in business and 
serving the Lord,' not wasting its strength and 
vitality in spasmodic emotions, not relying on creed 
and dogma, but upon faithful obedience to the 
voice of God in the heart. I shall watch the 
progress of the settlement with deep interest, and 
earnest desires for its growth and welfare. I can- 
not doubt that care will be taken that the dreadful 
evil of intemperance shall not be permitted to 
fasten itself upon the young settlement, and that 
in sobriety, industry, large charity, active benevo- 
lence, and educational privilege it may prove an 
example worthy of general imitation, and fulfill 
the fond anticipations of its founders." 


Oak Knoll, 6th mo., 1887. 
I wish thee could see this place now, in the^full 
glory of late June. The lawns and woods and 


flowers are at their best. Rhodoras, azaleas, 
sweet-brier, and other wild flowers are making the 
woods lovely. I hope to go to Amesbury this 
^eek. It is not as pretty there, but it is more 
like home, and I seem nearer to the dear ones who 
lived there with me. Does thee take much inter- 
est in the Andover trial? My sympathies are 
strongly with the professors, though I don't see 
how they can stick to the creed which girdles the 
university with its iron chain. . The great question 
of the Future Life is almost ever with me. I can- 
not answer it, but I can trust. 


11th mo., 30, 1887. 
I am glad to learn that a second edition of the 
*' Gospel of Divine Help " ^ is called for. It sup- 
plies a want which, it seems to me, was never so 
strongly felt as at the present time, not only in the 
Society of Friends, but among the thoughtful and 
earnest seekers after truth in other denominations, 
who find it impossible to accept much which seems 
to them irreverent and dishonoring to God in 
creeds founded on an arbitrary arrangement of 
isolated and often irrelevant texts — the letter 
that killeth, without the Spirit, which alone gives 
life. It is scarcely possible to overestimate the 
evils of doubt, anguish, despair, and infidelity re- 
sulting from doctrines which attribute to the Heav- 
enly Father schemes and designs utterly at vari- 
ance with the moral sense of his creatures, and 

1 TJie Gospel of Divine Help. By Edward WorsdeU, B. A., of 
Lancaster, England. 


wliich in them would be regarded as unspeakably 
unjust and cruel. To those who have become con- 
fused and bewildered by having these dreadful 
conceptions of the All-Merciful forced upon them 
as a vital necessity of Christian belief, this little 
book may afford a clearer view of the simple truths 
of divine revelation. I cannot but believe that 
even those who may dissent from, or not fully 
adopt, some of its conclusions must feel, as they 
read, the prayerful reverence and earnest sincerity 
of its author in his desire to vindicate the ways of 
God to man, and win souls to the Divine Master, 
by presenting the " sweet reasonableness " of his 
gospel of love. The entire freedom of the book 
from self-assertion, assumption, and dogmatism 
affords small opportunity for unfriendly criticism. 
It is the honest work of an honest man, desirous of 
helping others, who may be in doubt and discour- 
agement, to find the light and peace into which he 
has been providentially led. It has my respect 
and sympathy. 


9th mo., 16, 1887. 

I see your Yearly Meeting has appointed del- 
egates to the conference of Yearly Meetings of 
Friends. I am not expecting much good from the 
conference. It is utterly impossible to reconcile 
the radical differences of opinion and action in our 
Society, on both sides of the water. Some of us 
are still Friends of the Fox and Penn and Barclay 
school, and we cannot shout and sing like the Sal- 
vation Army. Some of us still believe in the 
Divine Immanence. 



12th mo., 16, 1887. 
Whipple was one of the first to speak a good 
word for me in the " North American Review." I 
used to meet him whenever I came to Boston, and 
he and Fields, and Haskell, editor of the Boston 
"Transcript," and I used to get together at the 
" Old Comer Book-Store," or at a neighboring res- 
taurant, where we got coffee and chatted pleasantly 
of men and books. There were others doubtless 
with us — I think probably Underwood and Starr 
King, and later, J. B. Osgood. I used to think 
Whipple said his best things on such occasions. 

Mr. Whittier's affection for Whipple led him to 
write an introductory note to a collection of his 
friend's papers issued at this time. 

The eightieth anniversary of Whittier's birth 
was celebrated with marks of especial honor. Hon, 
George F. Hoar's address delivered at a banquet of 
the Essex club, in Boston, November 12, 1887, was 
a worthy prelude to the great chorus of praise and 
congratulation in which the voice of every State 
was heard a few weeks later. It was a call for 
some suitable testimonial from his native county. 
Senator Hoar said that Essex County had contrib- 
uted three of the greatest names in the history of 
liberty, in three memorable epochs, namely, Na- 
thaniel Ward of Ipswich, author of the " Body of 
Liberties;" Nathan Dane of Beverly, author of 
the ordinance that devoted the great Northwest to 
liberty, and John G. Whittier of Amesbury. Of 
Mr. Whittier he said : — 


" The third, which I should place highest in the 
list, IS the name of our living fellow-citizen, John 
G. Whittier. I wonder if Mr. Whittier knows 
how much his countrymen love him. The service 
he has rendered in our great anti-slavery struggle 
is one with which I think that of no orator can be 
compared. The speech of Webster or Sumner is 
heard but by few. How soon, after all, it is for- 
gotten! But the musical arrow of the poet 
pierces the heart of the whole people. It stirs the 
blood. It dwells in the memory. It springs to 
the lips in the time of deepest emotion. The fig- 
ure of the orator is forgotten when his own passes 
away. But Whittier sits, and for centuries will 
fiit, by millions of American firesides, a beloved 
and perpetual guest. It is said that — 

' Scotland shall flourish while each peasant learns 
The Psalms of David and the songs of Bums.' 

The love of liberty will not die out in the land 
while the youth of America learn and love the 
verse of the poet who combines the lofty inspira- 
tion of David with the sweet simplicity of Burns." 
This address was received with enthusiasm, and 
action was at once taken by the club to carry its 
proposition into effect. The testimonial took the 
form of a portfolio, in which was engrossed the 
speech of Senator Hoar, and an address signed by 
the officers and all the members of the Essex 
Club. Then follow many hundreds of autographs 
oi state officials and distinguished citizens, repre- 
jsenting every section and every interest of the 
Commonwealth. Next come the signatures of 


fifty-nine United States Senators, the entire bench 
of the Supreme Court of the United States headed 
by Chief Justice Waite, Speaker Carlisle of the 
House of Representatives, and three hundi'ed and 
thirty-three Members of the House, coming from 
every State and Territory in the Union. To these 
are added the names of many private citizens 
of distinction, such as George Bancroft, Robert 
C. Winthrop, James G. Blaine, and Frederick 
Douglass. This is an extract from Mr. Whittier's 
letter acknowledging the receipt of this testi- 
monial : — 

" I really know not how to acknowledge a testi- 
monial of such proportions and character, the 
magnitude and value of which I fully appreciate. 
I can only say that I accept it with profound grat^ 
itade. I am deeply moved by the fact that politi- 
cal and sectional differences seem to have been 
wholly set aside by the signers, and that those from 
whom I have felt compelled to dissent in times 
past have cordially joined with my personal and 
political friends in this tribute of respect to a pri- 
vate citizen, who loves his whole country, and is 
devoutly thankful that the sun of his closing day 
shines upon a free and united people." 

Mr. Whittier received his friends on his eigh- 
tieth birthday at Oak Knoll, and fortunately had 
the strength for all the duties of hospitality to his 
guests. Governor Ames and his executive coun- 
cil came from Boston by special train to pay their 
respects to the aged poet, and they were accom- 
panied by many distinguished citizens of Massa- 
chusetts and other States. When Mr. Whittier 


led his company to the dining-room he called upon 
the governor to cut the birthday cake, while he 
himself helped in its distribution. He was so 
alert and active throughout the day that it was dif- 
ficult to realize his age and invalidism. The '^ Bos-, 
ton Advertiser " issued a birthday number contain- 
ing letters about Whittier and sonnets addressed 
to him, by Dr. Holmes, J. B. Lowell, Francis 
Parkman, Dr. F. H. Hedge, George F. Hoar, Dr. 
C. A. Bartol, Walt Whitman, Samuel Longfellow, 
Arlo Bates, and many others of the literary guild. 

In 1887, Mr. George W. Childs, of Phila- 
delphia, generously offered to defray the expense 
of a Milton memorial window in St. Margaret's 
Church, London. The offer was accepted, and 
in October of that year, Archdeacon Frederick 
W. Farrar wrote to him as follows : — 

" The Milton window is making good progress. 
It will be, I hope, magnificently beautiful, and 
both in coloring and design will be worthy of 
your munificence, and worthy of the mighty poet 
to whose memory it will be dedicated. The artists 
are taking good pains with it. I sent you an out- 
line of the sketch not long ago. Before the end 
of the year I hope to send you a painting of the 
complete work. Messrs. Clayton and Bell are 
putting forth their best strength, and promise me 
that it shall be finished before the end of the Ju- 
bilee Year. When it is put in, I shall make your 
gift more universally known. Mr. Lowell wrote 
me a quatrain for the Raleigh window. I can 
think of no one so suitable as Mr. J. G. Whittier 
to write four lines for the Milton window. Mr. 


Whltticl* would feel the fullest sympathy for the 
great Puritan poet, whose spirit was so completely 
that of the Pilgrim Fathers. I have always loved 
and admired Mr. Whittier's poems. Could you 
ask him as a kindness to yourself and to me, and 
as a tribute to Milton's memory, if he would be so 
good as to write this brief inscription, which I 
would then have carved in marble or otherwise 
under the window. The same tablet will also re- 
cord that it is your gift to the church of the 
House of Commons, which was dearer to Milton 
than any other." 

Mr. Childs forwarded this letter to Mr, Whit- 
tier, who accepted the commission, and composed 
the following quatrain : — 

*' The new world honors him whose lofty plea 

For England's freedom made her own more sure, 
Whose song, immortal as its theme, shall be 
Their common freehold while both worlds endure/' 

These lines were sent to Mr. Childs, to be for- 
warded to Archdeacon Farrar, in a letter from Mr. 
Whittier of which the following is a copy: — 

" I am glad to comply with thy request and that 
of our friend Archdeacon Farrar. I hope the lines 
may be satisfactory. It is difficult to put all that 
could be said of Milton into four lines. How very 
heartfelt and noble thy benefactions are ! Every 
one is a testimony of peace and good will. ... I 
think even such a scholar as Dr. Farrar will not 
object to my use of the word ' freehold.' Milton 
himself uses it in the same way in his prose writ- 
ings, viz. : * I too have my chapter and freehold 
ot re;oiomg. 


Mr. Whittier suggested to Dr. Farrar that if 
thought preferable the word " heirloom " might 
be substituted for " freehold." This is the Arch- 
deacon's reply, dated January 2, 1888 : — 

" First let me express the wish that God's best 
blessings may rest on you and your house during 
this New Year. My personal gratitude and admi- 
ration have long been due to you for the noble in- 
fluence you have exercised for the furtherance of 
forgotten but deeply needed truths. I have my- 
self endeavored to do something to p^ersuade men 
of the lesson you have so finely taught, — that God 
is a loving Father, not a terrific Moloch. Next 
let me thank you for the four lines on Milton. 
They are all that I can desire, and they will add 
to the interest which all Englishmen and Ameri- 
cans will feel in the beautiful Milton window. I 
think that if Milton had now been living, you are 
the poet whom he would have chosen to speak of 
him, as being the poet with whose whole tone of 
mind he would have been most in sympathy. . . . 
Unless you wish * heirloom ' to be substituted for 
' freehold,' I will retain the latter as the original." 


Ist mo., 1888. 

The lack of concentration of thought thee com- 
plains of is the result of nervous debility. I have 
for years suffered from it, and it is only by a pain- 
ful effort that I can hold my thoughts steadily be- 
fore me. But, after all, I think it may be quite 
as well. To have fixed ideas is insanity, and it is 
safest to let the mind wander a little at its own 


sweet will. Some one has said, ^^ Thinking is an 
idle waste of thought." 


2d mo., 0, 1888. 
I am delighted to have such a favorable report 
from thee by Sarah's nice letter. Sitting by the 
peat fire, listening to Lowell's reading of his own 
verses ! A convalescent princess with her minstrel 
in attendance ! There may be a question as to 
curative properties of Dr. Lowell's dose, but that 
its flavor was agreeable I have no doubt. My own 
experience of the poetry cure was not satisfactory. 
Some years ago, when I was slowly getting up 
from illness, an honest friend of mine, an orthodox 
minister, in the very kindness of his heart thought 
to help me on by administering a poem in five 
cantos, illustrating the five points of Calvinism. I 
could only take a homoeopathic dose of it. Its un- 
mistakable flavor of brimstone disagreed with my 
stomach, probably because I was a Quaker. 


4th mo., 30, 1888. 
I am thankful that I have lived to see another 
spring; to watch the slow, beautiful resurrection 
of Nature. A little north of us, as seen from our 
hills, the snow still lingers, but here the grass is 
greening in the lowlands, and the arbutus blooms 
among the pine needles. I have been at Ames- 
bury for a fortnight. Somehow I seem nearer to 
my mother and sister ; the very walls seem to have 
become sensitive to unseen presences. ... I am 


looking over .the proofs of my verses for the new 
edition, with a strong desire to drown some of them 
like so many unlikely kittens. But my publishers 
say that there is no getting rid of them, that they 
have more than nine lives. I hope I am correcting 
a little of the bad grammar and rhythmical blun- 
ders which have so long annoyed my friends who 
have graduated at Harvard instead of a district 
country school. 


5tii mo., 19, 1888. 
I am sorry to find that the hard winter has de- 
stroyed some handsome spruces, which I planted 
eight years ago, and which had grown to be fine 
trees. Though rather late for me, I shall plant 
other trees in their places, for I remember the ad- 
vice of the^ old Laird of Dombiedike to his son 
Jock: "When ye have nothing better to do, ye 
can be aye stickin' in a tree: it'll be growin* 
when ye are sleepin'." There is an ash-tree grow- 
ing here that my mother planted with her own 
hands, at threescore and ten. What agnostic folly 
to think that tree has outlived her who planted it ! 
... I have read the letters of Jane Carlyle over 
again, and find that my first judgment of them 
was too severe. She was " cut out " for a very 
noble woman. Her wit and humor are simply 
marvelous. If she had married a man she really 
loved she would have been a happier and better 
woman. There is no excuse for Carlyle's shaking 
his fist in the face of the divine providence that 
had given him such a woman. 



8th mo., 30, 1888. 
Ever since I saw thee in thy beautiful home, I 
have thought of thee, in the deep sympathy and 
earnest desire that with the dear memories of the 
past, hope and aspiration may be blended. I am 
glad to hear of thy literary work, not only for thy 
work's sake, but for thyself. I am sure thy ex- 
perience of love and sorrow (are they ever far 
apart ?) will bear fruit richer and sweeter for the 
loss and bitterness. 


10th mo., 22, 1888. 
I congratulate you from my heart. You have 
my best wishes for your happiness and the full real- 
ization of " the one great purpose of creation, Love, 
the sole necessity of Earth and Heaven." There is 
nothing else worth living for. ... I am not sure I 
am any better for my long life, any nearer to God, 
but He seems nearer to me, and that comforts me. 


12th mo., 14, 1888. 
The report of the Associated Charities gives me 
a fuller comprehension of the magnitude as well as 
the need of the great work you have undertaken. 
It is the very science of charity ; no longer blind 
instinct of indiscriminate pity, making the poverty 
it seeks to relieve, but a clear-eyed and wise be- 
nevolence, which helps the poor and suffering by 
aiding them to help themselves. . . . The winter 
^ On the occanon of her marriage. 


opens drearily ; still I mean to make the most and 
best of it. If I cannot read in these long evenings, 
I will think of what I have read ; and if I cannot 
see my friends as often as I wish, I can take pleas- 
ure in thinking of them. 


12tii mo., 19, 188& 
In the intervals of visitations on my birthday 
I wondered at my age, and if it was possible that 
I was the little boy on the old Haverhill farm, 
unknown, and knowing nobody beyond my home 
horizon. I could not quite make the connection of 
the white-haired man with the black-locked boy. 
I could not help a feeling of loneliness, thinking of 
having outlived so many of my life companions, but 
I was still grateful to God that I had not outlived 
my love for them, and for those still living. . . . 
Among the many tokens of good will from all 
parts of the country and beyond sea, there were some 
curious and amusing missives. One " secesh " wo- 
man took the occasion to include me in her curse 
of the " mean, hateful Yankees." To offset this 
I had a telegram from the Southern Forestry Com- 
mission, assembled at De Fanick Springs, Florida, 
signed by the president and secfetary, informing 
me that * in remembrance of your birthday we 
have planted a live-oak tree to your memory, which, 
like the leaves of the tree, will be forever green." 

In 1888, Mr. Whittier was asked to join W. D. 
Howells and others in petitioning the governor 
of Illinois for a commutation of the sentence of 


the Chicago anarchists, who had been condemned 
to death. He replied that he had always opposed 
capital punishment, and wished that some other 
way had been taken in this case to satisfy the de- 
mands of justice ; but he was not disposed to inter- 
fere in behalf of these criminals in preference to 
other murderers less dangerous to the community 
than they. This incident was related by a writer 
in the " New York Tribune," who reported a con- 
versation with Mr, Whittier in a manner that 
seemed hardly fair to Mr. Howells, who wrote a 
friendly letter to Whittier about it. This is the 
poet's reply, dated 12th mo., 19, 1888 : — 

" I have not the ' Tribune ' letter to refer to. I 
saw it and hastily glanced at it in the midst of 
interviewers and callers on my birthday, and do 
not recollect the exact words of the passage re- 
ferred to in thy note. I see that I should have 
stated so clearly that I could not be misunderstood 
the facts of the case, as I remember them, viz. : 
that I was asked to join thee in petitioning the 
governor of Illinois to commute the sentence of the 
anarchists. I think thee stated that thee thought 
they had not had a fair trial, and that this induced 
thee to urge the petition. In conversing with the 
writer of the letter, I think I said that I supposed 
thee thought that the extreme penally of death 
might cause the victims to be regarded as martyrs ; 
and I mentioned that thy interest in Count Tol- 
stoi's non-resistance views, with which I have much 
sympathy myself, may have influenced thee In this 
case. The writer of the * Tribune * letter is a 
truthful and honorable gentleman, and if his ver- 


sion of the matter is incorrect it is doubtless owing 
to a lack of explicitness on my part, in a desul- 
tory conversation. Our relations as authors and 
friends have been too intimate and pleasant to allow 
me to even unintentionally misrepresent thee. I 
would be the last person to believe that the crime 
charged upon the accused persons is less detestable 
and awful to thee than to myself." 

Mr. Whittier had all his life the care and in- 
terest of a statesman in regard to the details of 
governmental policy, and never resisted the temp- 
tation to give his advice, encoui*agement, and 
warning to persons in power, especially if they 
were of his own party and would be likely on that 
account to listen to him. Notwithstanding his nat- 
ural modesty and habit of self-depreciation, he real- 
ized that his name was one that could be conjured 
with, in his later years, and did not hesitate to try 
its powers for any cause in which, or any person 
in whom, he was interested. In 1887, he wrote to 
a friend : '*' I feel sometimes that I have a word 
to say that is needed, but I have not felt strong 
enough to write, so the world must get on without 
my shoulder to the wheel, and I guess it will." 
His shoulder had been so long at the wheel that 
it had become the habit of his life, and it was 
difficult to break himself of it, even when old age 
and weakness gave him good excuse for inaction. 
In all great reforms there are among the leaders 
some narrow and active men who maintain their 
leadership because so narrow in their views. Of 
the wedge of reform they make the sharp point. 
Some one has said of Wesley that he was so intent 


upon the work before him that he would not have 
seen an African bison to the right or left of him. 
Mr. Whittier had none of this narrowness, but 
took a wide view of the field in which he worked. 


12th mo., 30, 1888. 
My ancestors since 1640 have been farmers in 
Essex County. I was early initiated into the mys- 
teries of farming as it was practiced seventy years 
ago, and worked faithfully on the old Haverhill 
homestead until, at the age of thirty years, I was 
compelled to leave it, greatly to my regret. Ever 
since^ if I have envied anybody, it has been the 
hale, strong farmer, who could till his own acres, 
and if he needed help could afford to hire it, be- 
cause he was able to lead the work himself. I 
have lived to see a great and favorable change in 
the farming population of Essex County. The 
curse of intemperance is now almost unknown 
among them ; the rumseller has no mortgage on 
their lands. As a rule, they are intelligent, well 
informed, and healthy, interested in public affairs, 
self-respectful and respected, independent land- 
holders, fully entitled, if any class is, to the name 
of gentleman. It may be said that they are not 
millionaires, and that their annual gains are small. 
But, on the other hand, the farmer rests secure 
while other occupations and professions are in 
constant fear of disaster ; his dealing directly and 
honestly with the Almighty is safer than specu- 
lation ; his life is no game of chance, and his in- 
vestments in the earth are better than in stock 


companies and syndicates. As to profits, if our 
farmers could care less for the comfort of them- 
selves and their families, if they could consent 
to live as their ancestors once lived, and as the 
pioneers in new countries now live, they could with 
their present facilities, no doubt, double their 
incomes. But what a pitiful gain this would be 
at the expense of the delicacies and refinements 
that make life worth living. No better proof of 
real gains can be found than the creation of 
pleasant homes for the comfort of age and the hap- 
piness of youth. When the great English critic 
Matthew Arnold was in this country, on return- 
ing from a visit in Essex County, he remarked 
that while the land looked to him rough and un- 
productive, the landlords' houses seemed neat and 
often elegant. " But where," he asked, " do the 
tenants, the working people live ? " He seemed 
surprised when I told him that the tenants were 
the landlords and the workers the owners. 

It was in 1888 that the definitive " Riverside " 
edition of Mr. Whittier's writings was published, in 
seven volumes, four given to poetry and three to 
prose. He prepared a number of head-notes upon 
the general plan adopted in the " Eiverside " edi- 
tion of Longfellow's writings issued two years be- 
fore, and gave close attention to the final form of 
the text. 


4th mo., 3, 1889. 
Spring is here to-day, warm, bird-full, blossom- 
ing with crocuses, snowdrops, and willows. Prob- 


ably the east wind will scare her away to-morrow. 
It seems strange to me that I am here alive to 
welcome her, when so many have passed away 
with the winter, and among them that stalwartest 
of Englishmen, John Bright, sleeping now in the 
daisied grounds of Rochdale, never more to move 
the world with his surprising eloquence. How I 
regret that I have never seen him ! We had much 
in common — in our religious faith, our hatred of 
war and oppression. His great genius seemed to 
me to be always held firmly in hand by a sense 
of duty, and by the practical common sense of a 
shrewd man of business. He fought through life 
like an old knight-errant, but without enthusiasm. 
He had no personal ideals. I remember how he 
remonstrated with me for my admiration of Gen- 
eral Gordon. He looked upon that wonderful 
personality as a wild fighter, a rash adventurer, 
doing evil that good might come. He could not 
see him, as I saw him, giving his life for humanity, 
alone and unfriended in that dreadful Soudan. 
He did not like the idea of fighting Satan with 
Satan's own weapons. Lord Salisbury said truly 
that he was the greatest orator England had pro- 
duced ; and his eloquence was only called out by 
what he regarded as the voice of God in his soul. 


CoNWAT, N. H., 7tfi mo., 24, 1889. 

My cousins and I have been here for the past 

week, with some other friends of ours. The 

weather has been delightful, and Chocorua and 

Moat are looking their best. We have just re- 


turned from the banks of the Saco, where it is 
joined by the Swift River — a very fine bit for a 
painter.^ This rainy season has left the mid-sum- 
mer greener if possible than June, and I never saw 
the Saco intervales more lovely. 

Mr. Whittier had serious misgivings in regard 
to his poem " The Vow of Washington," written 
in 1889 for the centennial commemoration of the 
inauguration of the first President of the Kepub- 
lie, and desired to recall it after it had left his 
hands. He wrote to a friend : " I heartily wish I 
had not been over-persuaded to write for the occa- 
sion. I am ashamed of it." To a friend who was 
to attend the celebration, and who made the sug- 
gestion that he had better read his own poem to 
the assembled thousands, he wrote : ^' I think I 
see myself shouting my verses in New York! I 
don't care who reads them. They are not worth 
much, anyway. If the critics find fault with 
them, as they will, I shall join with them, as 
Charles Lamb hissed his own play as heartily 
as the audience. I scarcely think it will pay for 
thee to go to the great fuss. I should like to hear 
Depew if I were fifty years younger and were not 
jammed and elbowed by a crowd." It was a 
great relief to him when he found that he had 
struck a chord to which the whole coimtry re- 
sponded with enthusiasm. There was a report 
that Whittier would himself read his centennial 

^ A beautiful picture, in water colors, of the confluence of ihe 
two rivers, painted by one of the guests, and presented to him, 
was a much prized souvenir. 


poem, and President Barnard wrote to him to 
make his home with him while in New York. To 
this Whittier replied : — 

My deab old Friend of the old days, — I have 
authorized no such " public notice " as thy letter 
speaks of. The idea of reading my own verses to 
a New York audience is utterly absurd. But I 
would be glad to visit New York, if for no other 
reason than to accept the kind invitation of thyself 
and thy wife ; but I am hardly in condition to 
travel far from home. I often think of thee and 
of the pleasant Hartford days, and wish I could 
meet thee again. What a way we have traveled 
since we met under the Charter Oak I We have 
both reason to be thankful to the good Providence 
which has brought us thus far. 


September 2, 1889. 

Here I am at your side among the octogenari- 
ans. At seventy we are objects of veneration ; at 
eighty, of curiosity ; at ninety, of wonder ; and if 
we reach a hundred we are candidates for a side 
show attached to Barnum's great exhibition. You 
know all about it. You know why I have not 
thanked you before this for your beautiful and 
precious tribute, which would make any birthday 
memorable. I remember how you were over- 
whelmed with tributes on the occasion of your 
own eightieth birthday, and you can understand 
the impossibility I find before me of responding in 
any fitting shape to all the tokens of friendship 


which I receive. ... I hope, dear Whittier, that 
you find much to enjoy in the midst of all the 
lesser trials which old age must bring with it. 
You have kind friends all around you, and the 
love and homage of your fellow-countrymen as 
few have enjoyed, with the deep satisfaction of 
knowing that you have earned them, not merely 
by the gifts of your genius, but by a noble life 
which has ripened without a flaw into a grand 
and serene old age. I never see my name cou- 
pled with yours, as it often is nowadays, without 
feeling honored by finding myself, in such com- 
pany, and wishing that I were more worthy efi it, 
... I am living here with my daughter-in-law, 
and just as I turned this leaf I heard wheels 
at the door, and she got out, leading in in tri- 
umph her husband, His Honor, Judge Holmes 
of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, just 
arrived from Europe, by the Scythia. I look up 
to him as my magistrate, and he knows me as his 
father, but my arms are around his neck and his 
moustache is sweeping my cheek — I feel young 
again at fourscore. 


llih mo., 7, 1889. 
There is very little of actual suffering which 
may not be traced to intemperance, idleness, and 
utter lack of economy, wasteful and careless of the 
future when wages are good. We need the gospel 
of Poor Eichard's Almanac sadly. Last summer, 
in Conway, I found a town without a poor-house, 
because there was nobody that needed it. There 


were no rich men, but the village was a model of 
neatness, every house freshly painted and comfort- 
able. The young clergyman had a salary of $400 
a year, and I was told that the cost of living was 
less than $300 per family. There was no liquor 
allowed in the place. The small savings bank 
had a deposit of $80,000. With economy, sobri- 
ety, and the absence of ostentation, display, and 
extravagance, the example of Conway might be 
imitated in our country towns, and to some extent 
in our cities. But I suppose this is not to be ex- 
pected. The poor we shall always have with us — 
until Bellamy's millennium. 


12th mo., 12, 1889. 
I came to Amesbury yesterday, where I hope 
my birthday will pass quietly. As life draws 
nearer the close, one feels desirous to be near the 
old home and the unforgotten landscape of youth, 
and to muse by the same fireside where our dear 
ones used to sit. 


12th mo., 1889. 
It was a very beautiful and fitting thing for the 
minister of the United States at Lisbon to offer 
his apartments to Dom Pedro, — the noble ex- 
emperor, who carried with him into retirement the 
love and respect of the world. Will thee give 
him my sincerest love, and tell him that were our 
dear Longfellow living he would join me in affec- 
tionate remembrances. 



Lisbon, December 22, 1889. 
I was happy in being able to make the old em- 
peror comfortable. He looks very old, has no 
light or joy in his face, and dwells on the past 
with touching devotion. He talks of you and 
Longfellow and Agassiz, and Alexander Agassiz 
and Quincy Shaw, as if you had all been his bro- 

Mr. Whittier's eighty-second birthday was spent 
quietly at Amesbury. The day was observed quite 
generally in the schools throughout the country. 
The school children of Amesbury marched in pro- 
cession to his house, and he made a few remarks 
to them. One of the gifts he received was a beau- 
tiful phial of gold sand from Africa, the golden 
cover of which was ornamented with a fine sapphire 
and a clasp of diamonds. This was from Abby 
Hutchinson Fatten, to whom he wrote: "Thy 
name recalls the noble men and women who de- 
voted their lives to the holy cause of freedom. 
None more worthily bore their part in the great 
contest than thy brothers and thyself. I always 
think of dear N. P. Eogers when I think of you. 
How he loved you and your songs ! " 

Among the letters and gifts which came to him 
from all parts of the United States, and from other 
countries, on these occasions, none touched him 
more deeply and gave him more pleasure than the 
affectionate remembrances of the students in the 
seminaries of the colored people at the South. 
Their gratitude and reverence for their benefactor 


were expressed in many quaint ways. On more 
than one occasion, lie received barrels of pitch- 
pine kindlings for his fire, from the colored 
schools of Alabama and other Ghilf States. 
. When wearied by a prolonged conversation in 
his garden room, his never-failing resource was to 
go to the closet for a stick of wood for his fire, or 
for a choice pear he had been ripening for his 
guest. The thread of many a long-winded discourse 
was broken by such devices. Dr. Maria Dowdell- 
Wilson, who was for a large part of her life a 
neighbor, and always an intimate friend, says of 
his care of the fire : — 

"That fire was a perpetual source of pleasure 
and annoyance to us all. It was an old-fashioned 
Franklin stove, that smoked on the slightest provo- 
cation, and scattered the ashes over the hearth. 
At the same time it had a habit of throwing out 
the most charming gleams and shadows, especially 
if drift-wood was being burned. Mr. Whittier was 
very jealous of any one else tending or poking the 
fire. Often I have unconsciously taken the tongs to 
touch up a brand, when his hand would stay mine, 
and he would say, ' Thee must not touch that, it 
is just right,' and perhaps the next minute he 
would have the tongs and do just what I had 
attempted. I have frequently gone in at twilight 
and found him lying on the lounge, watching the 
flitting shadows, and repeating aloud from some 
favorite author, generally Scott or Burns. His 
mood and conversation at such times were particu- 
larly delightful. The beautiful poem 'Burning 
Drift-Wood ' was doubtless inspired by such experi- 


Mrs. Pitman wrote to him in 1885 : " You were 
a veritable fire-worshiper. I see you coming 
from the closet, bringing wood. Now I see you 
by the stove, sitting on nothing. You had a firm 
backbone, as was suitable to a Quaker and an old 
abolitionist." The attitude to which reference is 
here made will be recognized by all who knew him 
in his home. He never stooped as do most people 
when they reach to a level below their knees, but 
came down upon his right knee with the bent left 
knee thrown forward, holding his body perfectly 
upright. This attitude was assumed whenever he 
had occasion to pick up anything, when he teased 
the cat, when he took a book from a low shelf, and 
when he tended his fire. 

One of the birthday gifts in 1889 was a hand- 
some portfolio from Herman Marcus, a New York 
merchant, containing a picture of a golden vase, 
exquisitely graceful in form, and ornamented with 
garlands of delicate flowers. It had for inscrip- 
tion, " May in the smallest part thy sorrows lie 
concealed, and all the rest be filled with joy to 
overflowing." It was accompanied by a letter ex- 
plaining that the conception of the vase, with its 
allegory and legend, originated in a delightful 
dream at the mountain home of Mr. Marcus, which 
is near Centre Harbor. 


2cL mo., 1890. 
My dear cousin Gertrude read in her beautiful 
way thy poems under the head of "The Still 
Hour," and was greatly moved by their pathetic 


power. I wish thee could have her serene, clear 
faith in the future life. But I think it will come 
no thee some time. Emerson once said to me, ^' If 
there is a future life for us, it is well ; if there is 
not, it is well also." For myself, I trust in the 
mercy of the All Merciful. What is best for us 
we shall have, and Life and Love are best. 


2d mo., 28, 1890. 
I do not wonder that " the Church " commends 
itself to thy mind and heart, so far as it is repre- 
sented by Phillips Brooks. But I am too much of 
a Quaker to find a home there. Quakerism has 
no church of its own — it belongs to the Church 
Universal and Invisible. 

A few weeks of the summer of 1890 were spent 
by Mr. Whittier at a quiet and pleasant place on 
the Piscataqua River, in Eliot, Maine, known as 
" Green Acre." Writing from this place to his old 
friend Mrs. Elizabeth Gay, of Staten Island, he 
says : " I have bee^ staying here for the last fort- 
night, — my first outing in nearly a year. It is a 
quiet hotel on the banks of the Piscataqua River, 
new, neat, and comfortable, and not near enough to 
the railroad to be crowded. My cousins Joseph 
and Gertrude Cartland are with me. . . . Has thee 
read Dr. Holmes's new poem in the last * Atlantic 
Monthly ' ? At eighty-one he is as witty as ever. 
If I may not imitate his light-hearted verse, I am 
thankful I can enjoy it." 

Mr. Whittier took great interest in the deaf and 


the blind, and had friends and correspondents 
among those who had the misfortune to be deprived 
of sight and hearing. Selections from his works 
were printed in raised letters for the use of the 
blind, in the Perkins Institution at South Boston. 
In the summer of 1890, he- wrote to little Helen 
Keller, who is both deaf and blind, and on his 
next birthday he received from her an affectionate 
reply, written with her own hand in the square 
characters she had been taught to make with the 
apparatus invented for the use of the blind. This 
is her letter : — 

Dear kind Poet, — This is your birthday : that 
was the first thought which came into my mind 
when I awoke this morning, and it made me glad 
to think I could write you a letter and tell yon 
how much your little blind friends love their sweet 
poet and his birthday. This evening they are 
going to entertain their friends with readings from 
your poems and music. I hope the swift-winged 
messenger of love will be here to carry some of 
the sweet melody to you in your little study by 
the Merrimac. At first I was very sorry when I 
found that the sun had hidden himself behind dull 
clouds, but afterwards I thought why he did so, 
and then I was happy. The sun knows that you 
like to see the world covered with beautiful snow, 
so he kept back all of his brightness so that the 
little crystals could form in the sky, and when 
they are ready they will softly fall and tenderly 
cover every object. Then the sim will appear in 
all his radiance and fill the world with light. If I 


were with you to-day I would give you eighty-three 
kisses, one for each year you have lived. Eighty- 
three years seems very long to me. Does it seem 
long to you ? I wonder how many years there will 
be in eternity. I am afraid I cannot think about 
so much time. I received the letter which you 
wrote to me last summer, and I thank you for it. 
I am staying in Boston now, at the Institution for 
the Blind, but I have not commenced my studies 
yet, because my dearest friend, Mr. Anagnos, wants 
me to rest and play a great deal. Teacher is well 
and sends her kind remembrances to you. The 
happy Christmas time is ialmost here ! I can 
hardly wait for the fun to begin ! I hope your 
Christmas Day will be a very happy one and that 
the new year wiU be full of brightuess and joy for 
you and every one. 

From your loving little friend, 

Helen A, Ejblleb. 

To this letter Mr. Whittier replied : — 

My dear young Friend, — I was very glad 
to have such a pleasant letter on my birthday. I 
had two or three hundred others, and thine was one 
of the most welcome of all. I must tell thee about 
how the day passed at Oak Knoll. Of course, the 
sun did not shine, but we had great open wood 
fires in the rooms, which were all very sweet with 
roses and other flowers, which were sent to me 
from distant friends ; and fruits of all kinds from 
California and other places. Some relatives and 
dear old friends were with me through the day. I 


do not wonder thee think eighty-three years a long 
time, but to me it seems but a very little while 
since I was a boy no older than thee, playing on 
the old farm at Haverhill. I thank thee for all 
thy good wishes, and wish thee as many. I am 
glad thee is at the Institution ; it is an excellent 
place. Give my best regards to Miss Sullivan, 
and with a great deal of love I am thy old friend. 

In 1890 Mr. Whittier published for private cir- 
culation among his friends the little volume of his 
latest poems, entitled " At Sundown," which two . 
years later was given to the public, with additional 
poems. It included " Burning Drift-Wood," " The 
Captain's Well," " Haverhill," "The Last Eve of 
Summer," and quite a number of shorter pieces, 
written during the year. When Mr. Whittier 
wrote " The Captain's Well," he had the impres- 
sion that Captain Valentine Bagley was at the time 
of his shipwreck the master of the vessel, and that 
he was the head of a family. But when he learned, 
after the publication of the poem, that he was then 
a young man, unmarried, he changed the second 
stanza to correspond with the facts. The original 
version was : — 

'* Back to his home, where wife and child, 
Who had mourned him lost, with joy were wild.*' 

As amended it stands : — 

*' And like one from the dead, the threshold crossed 
Of his wondering home, that had monmed him lost." 

Of this poem James Eussell Lowell wrote : 
** Your ' Captain's Well ' seems to me in your hap- 


piest vein, — a vein peculiarly your own. Tears 
came to my eyes as I read it." 


5th mo., 9, 1891. 
As I could not hear Phillips Brooks if I went to 
his church, I prefer he should be bishop. The 
very air of Massachusetts seems more free and 
sweet for his election. It is a great step forward. 
He is bishop, not only of the Episcopal Church, 
but of all New England I 

A part of the simimer of 1891 was spent by Mr. 
Whittier and his friends at a quiet hotel in Wake- 
field, N. H. His health was not up to even its 
usual standard, but he longed to be again among 
his favorite hills, and this place was chosen for its 
easy access, its bracing air, and the beauty of its 
surroundings ; but his stay at Wakefield was short- 
ened, as at Conway two years before, by increased 
feebleness, which called him back to Newburyport 
and the care of his physician. 


Newburyport, 8th mo., 18, 1891. 
Ever since I heard the sad news of Lowell's 
death, I have been thinking of thee, and longing 
to see thee, for we are now standing alone. The 
bright, beautiful ones who began life with us have 
all passed into the great shadow of silence, or 
rather, let us hope, in the language of Henry 
Vaughan, " They have gone into the world of light, 
and we alone are lingering here ! " Well, I at 


least sliall soon follow them, and I wait the call 
with a calm trust in the Eternal 6oodnes3. I have 
been ill all summer, but the world is still fair to 
me ; my friends are very dear to me ; I love and 
am loved. And it is a great joy to me that I can 
think of thee as well, and in the full enjoyment 
of all thy gifts and powers, surrounded still with 
friends who love and honor thee. 

Bevxblt Farms, September 3, 1891. 
I am longing to see you, and if you are coming 
to Danvers, you must expect me to drive over for 
an hour's talk with you. As I have often said, 
we, — that is, you and I — now, are no longer on a 
raft, but we are on a spar. I have been weU in gen- 
eral health, but have had a good deal of asthma. 
This climate is too cool and rough for me, but I 
have found much that is delightful about my resi- 
dence here. Perhaps the fault is not so much in 
latitude 42 degrees, as in sat. 82. 


9Ui mo., 8, 1891. 
I am most happy to know that I may expect a 
visit from thee as soon as the present wet weather 
permits. I need not tell thee how glad I shall be 
to see thee before I let go that " spar " and leave 
it to thee alone. This climate is hard upon us, 
but it is a part of our New England, and I would 
not exchange for any other. Danton would not 
run away from the guillotine because he could 
not carry France off with him on his boots. 



Oih ma, 21, 1891. 

Dear Holmes, — The last and noblest word 
has been spoken by thy lines on Lowell. As a 
work of artistic beauty and fitness it has no rival 
in our literature, and it will last as long as his ode 
on Lincoln — and that is saying much. Thanks 
to our Heavenly Father that He has given thee 
the power to write it I 

Mr. Whittier wrote his lines on James Bussell 
Lowell and two other poems this year, " The Birth- 
day Wreath " and " Between the Gates." 

In November, 1891, Whittier was again in New- 
buryport, and it is a coincidence of some interest 
that the residence of his cousin, Joseph Cartland, 
where he spent so many of his later days, was once 
occupied by the Hon. Edward St. Loe Livermore, 
who represented the Essex District in Congress 
from 1807 to 1812, and who was the father of the 
eccentric Harriet Livermore, the " not unf eared, 
half-welcome guest " alluded to in " Snow-Bound." 
On the occasion of his eighty-fourth and last birth- 
day, sixty members of the Whittier Club of Haver- 
hill, his native town, called in the morning, bring- 
ing with their congratulations eighty-four roses 
encircled with a scarf, upon the ends of which 
were etchings of Whittier's birthplace and the old 
schoolhouse of his boyhood. Three of his aged 
schoolmates added to the interest of the occasion 
by their presence : Mrs. Warren Ordway of Brad- 
ford, Thomas B. Garland of Dover, N. H., and 
Hon. James H. Carleton of HaverhilL Mr. Whit- 


tier greatly enjoyed this opportunity to recall inci- 
dents of his youth. Another of his school friends 
who came was Mrs. Bartlett, mother of William 
Francis Bartlett, to whom Whittier paid the tribute 
commencing : — 

** Oh, well may Essex sit forlorn 
Beside her sea-blown shore ; 
Her well-beloyed, her noblest bom 
Is hers in life no more I '^ 

In reply to the congratulatory address of George 
C. How, president of the Whittier Club, Mr. 
Whittier made one of the very few speeches of his 
life, in which he said that, the proverb to the con- 
trary, he had found that a prophet is sometimes 
honored in his own country. The rooms of the 
spacious house were filled with birthday gifts, and 
telegrams, express packages, and letters were con- 
stantly being received, Mr. Whittier manifested 
a lively interest in whatever was going on, and 
greeted each visitor in the most cordial manner. 
He particularly enjoyed the calls of his life-long 
friend, Charles F. Coffin of Lynn, of Mrs. Fields, 
Mrs. Claflin, Sarah Orne Jewett, Alice Freeman 
Palmer, Francis J. Garrison, and Harriet McEwen 
Kimball. This tender greeting came from Phillips 
Brooks : " I have no right, save that which love 
and gratitude and reverence may give, to say how 
devoutly I thank God that you have lived, that 
you are living, and that you will always live." 

As evening approached, and the last guest de- 
parted, Mr. Whittier did not seem as much fa- 
tigued as on some previous occasions of a similar 
character. He joined the family at the tea-table 


with his accustomed cheerfuhiess, recalling many 
pleasant incidents of the day, and the delightful 
meetings with old friends, and remarking that he 
had never passed a more comfortable and happy 

Among the letters received was this from Dr. 
Holmes: "I congratulate you upon having 
climbed another glacier and crossed another cre- 
vasse in your ascent of the white summit which 
already begins to see the morning twilight of the 
coming century. A life so well filled as yours 
has been cannot be too long for your fellow-men. 
In their affections you are secure, whether you are 
with them here or near them in some higher life 
than theirs. I hope your years have not become a 
burden, so that you are tired of living. At our 
age we must live chiefly in the past : happy is he 
who has a past like yours to look back upon. It 
is one of the felicitous incidents — I will not say 
accidents — of my life that the lapse of time has 
brought us very near together, so that I frequently 
find myself honored by seeing my name mentioned 
in near connection with your own. We are lonely, 
very lonely, in these last years. The image which 
I have used before this in writing to you recurs 
once more to my thought. We were on deck to- 
gether as we began the voyage of life two genera- 
tions ago. A whole generation passed and the suc- 
ceeding one found us in the cabin, with a goodly 
number of coevals. Then the craft which held us 
began going to pieces, until a few of us were left on 
the raft pieced together of its fragments. And now 
the raft has at last parted, and you and I are left 



clinging to the solitary spar, which is all that still 
remains afloat of the sunken vessel. 

^'I have just been looking over the headstones in 
Mr. Griswold's cemetery, entitled * The Poets and 
Poetry of America.' In that venerable receptacle, 
just completing its half century of existence — 
for the date of the edition before me is 1842 — I 
find the names of John Greenleaf Whittier and 
Oliver Wendell Holmes next each other, in their 
due order, as they should be. All aroimd are 
the names of the dead — too often of forgotten 
dead. Three which I see there are still living: 
Mr. John Osborne Sargent, who makes Horace 
his own by faithful study and ours by scholarly 
translation; Isaac McLellan, who was writing 
in 1830, and whose last work is dated 1886 ; and 
Christopher P. Cranch, whose poetical gift has 
too rarely found expression. Of these many 
dead you are the most venerated, revered, and 
beloved survivor; of these few living, the most 
honored representative. Long may it be before 
you leave a world where your influence has been 
so beneficent, where your example has been such 
inspiration, where you are so truly loved, and 
where your presence is a perpetual benediction." 

Among the telegrams received on his last birth- 
day was one from the Indian poetess of Ontario, 
E. Pauline Johnson, who said, " Your young Mo- 
hawk friend asks for you to-day the Great Spirit's 
blessing." Another dispatch was received from 
an Indian girl whom Whittier had befriended. 
Seven hundred students of Yassar College united 
in sending a telegram, and pupils of the Gloucester 


high school sent congratulations, "to our loved 
singer, the wood-thrush of Essex." 

His old friend, Dr. Henry I. Bowditch, wrote : 
" How beautiful is this uprising of a people to do 
the poet honor for life-long defense of liberty and 
righteousness. I do so wish to see you at least 
once more in this world, but I quiet that desire at 
times by repeating some of your poetry, which has 
been such a blessing to all of us." To this Whit- 
tier replied : " Like thee I am mostly confined to 
the house, and I am finding the weight of years 
heavy to bear. But I thank God that my love 
for the old friends still left is deeper than ever." 
About three weeks later. Miss Olivia Y. Bowditch 
thus announced to Mr. Whittier the death of her 
father : " My father's love for you makes me wish 
to tell you myself that his burden, so bravely borne, 
is laid down, and we can think of him at rest. I 
should also like to tell you that all through the 
sunmier, when often his spirit was heavy, I would 
read to him from your poems, as we sat together, 
and he would invariably say that strength had come 
to him from your words. Your last note to him 
he deeply prized, and it made him very happy." 

Among the pleasant testimonials received by 
Mr. Whittier was a letter from James W. Taylor, 
United States consul at Winnipeg, Manitoba, in- 
forming him that at midnight, with the last stroke 
of the clock ushering in the seventeenth day of 
December, 1891, the eighty - fourth anniversary 
of his birth, the bells of Saint Boniface, commem- 
orated in his beautiful lyric "The Red River 
Voyageur,'* rang a joy peal, at the suggestion of 


Lieutenant-Governor John Schnltz, and by direc- 
tion of His Grace Archbishop Tach^. This deli- 
cate compliment was subsequently acknowledged 
by Whittier in the following letter : — 

" During my illness from the prevailing epidemic, 
which confined me nearly the whole winter, and 
from which I am but very slowly recovering, a 
letter from the United States consul at Winnipeg 
informed me of thy pleasant recognition of my 
little poem, * The Red River Voyageur ' (written 
nearly forty years ago), by the ringing of the 
bells of Saint Boniface on the eve of my late 
anniversary. I was at the time quite unable to 
respond, but I feel that I should be wanting in due 
appreciation of such a marked compliment if I 
did not, even at this late hour, express to thee my 
heartfelt thanks. I have reached an age when 
literary success and manifestations of popular 
favor have ceased to satisfy one upon whom the 
solemnity of life's sunset is resting ; but such a 
delicate and beautiful tribute has deeply moved 
me. I shall never forget it. I shall hear the 
bells of Saint Boniface sounding across the conti- 
nent, and awakening a feeling of gratitude for thy 
generous act." 


Nbwbubtpobt, 12th mo., 10, 1891. 
Will it not be possible for thee to be with me 
on the 17th ? I do not expect any crowd here ; 
but I shoidd be very sorry to miss of seeing thee. 
If dear Sarah Jewett is in Boston, take her with 
thee. I feel siu>e thee will come if possible. It 
is not likely that many more such occasions will 


occur. I inclose some rhymes hastily penciled 
years ago, a copy of which I have lately foun<L^ 


Nu^BUBYPOBT, 12th mo., 29, 1891. 
The best thing onTny birthday was to meet 
thee and our dear Sarah on the stairs, and the 
worst was that you went away so soon. Looking 
at the wreath which still hangs all right in oiir 
dining-room, I am tempted to let myself down to 
poetry : — 

" Blossom and greemiess, making all 
The wintry birthday tropical. 

And the plain Quaker parlors gay, 
Have died on bracket, stand, and wall. 
I saw them fade and droop and fall, 

And laid them tenderly away. 

** White yirgin lilies, mignonette. 
Blown rose and pink and violet, — 

A breath of fragrance passing by, 
A dream of beauty and decay. 
Colors and shapes which could not stay, ^ 

The fairest, sweetest, first to die. 

" But still this rustic wreath of thine 
Of wintergreen, and bay, and pine. 

The wild growths of our forest land. 
Woven and wound with careful pains, 
And tender wish and prayer, remains. 
As when it dropped from love's dear hand." ^ 

1 An OiU'Door Reception, first published after Mr. Whittier's 

2 Considerable changes were made in these lines afterward, 
two new verses were added, and the poem as thus completed 
waa included in Ai Sundoum, under the title The Birthday 



NswBUBTPOBT, Ist mo., 29, 1892. 
I am glad to be able to hold the pen once more 
in proof that the terrible " grippe " has relaxed its 
hold. I have been very n^ the border-land, — so 
near that the world seemecRo drop away from me, 
and nothing was left but trust and love. I am still 
very weak, though I sit up several hours a day. 

The severe attack to which he refers in this let- 
ter nearly proved fatal, but as spring advanced he 
gained strength, and when able to leave his room 
and rejoin the family in the library, he remarked 
that at times he had^hardly expected to pass down 
the hall stairs again, but was thankful for the calm 
trust and perfect rest with which he was favored ; 
^' not an anxiety," he added, ^^ not a care ; it was 
not ecstasy, but inexpressible peace." 

With improving health he began to suggest 
little plans for the coming summer, saying he 
hoped to visit Centre Harbor once more, and asking 
his cousins, the Cartlands, if they would accom- 
pany him. By the latter part of April he was 
able to spend a few weeks in Danvers, and in May 
he was again in Amesbury, to meet his friends in 
what proved his last Quarterly Meeting. As sum- 
mer approached, and his strength seemed insuffi- 
cient for the journey to Centre Harbor, he pro- 
posed spending a little time with his friend Sarah 
A. Gove, at " Ehnfield," Hampton Falls, N. H., 
seven miles from Amesbury, and to take Centre 
Harbor later, if it seemed advisable. 

Here, in company with congenial friends, and 


sheltered from wearisome intrusion, he was often 
heard to say, '' I have not known such a rest as 
this for forty years ; not one pilgrim for three 
weeks I " He had been familiar with the place 
from his boyhood, the house having been occupied 
by friends of his family for several generations. 
Thus favorably situated his strength improved. 
He was in the frequent practice of taking short 
walks, to the post office and other points near by, 
and sometimes wandered as far as the falls, and 
enjoyed the beautiful river-path. He would oc- 
casionally drive about among his former haunts. 
In the immediate vicinity was the home of his 
maternal ancestor, the Rev. Stephen Bachilder, 
and he took a lively interest in all the historic as- 
sociations of the place.^ 

He would sometimes make facetious reference to 
Miss Gove's descent from the Edward Gove who 
figured in the history of New Hampshire as the 
leader in " Gove's rebellion," and who was cap- 
tured, tried, condemned, and sentenced to be 
hanged, but who for some reason (perhaps the 
death of Charles II.) escaped execution of the 
sentence, and was finally released from imprison- 
ment in the Tower of London, and returned to his 
home in New Hampshire. An English fowling- 

^ The house in which the reyolutiomiry goTemor, Meshech 
Weare, lived and died, and where Washington was entertained 
when he visited New England in 1788, was within easy walking 
distance; his steps were frequently turned in that direction, 
where a cordial welcome always awaited him. He would ex- 
amine with much curiosity the paneled staircase and partitions, 
and the hunting scenes depicted upon the heavy wall-papers, 
some of which were fastened to the walls by hand-made nails 
insteq,jl of paste. 


piece, ornamented with a golden serpent set in its 
stock, said to have been given him by the king, is 
one of the relics of Miss Gove's spirited ancestor, 
now in her possession. 

Among the few letters written by Mr. Whittier 
in the month of August were the two that follow. 

Hamptok Falls, N. H., 8th mo., 11, 1892. 

My yeby dear Friend, — I cannot let cousin 
Gertrude's letter go without expressing my deep 
and tender sympathy with thee. I know what it 
is to lose a mother, — a loss I have never forgot- 
ten. But how much we have to be thankful for 
in the blessed assurance that all is well with our 
dear ones I 

" Go, call for the mourner and raise the lament ; 
Let the tresses be torn and the garments be rent ; . 
But g^ye to the liying the passion of tears, 
Who walk in a yalley of sadness and fears ; 
Who are pressed in the combat, in darkness are lost ; 
But weep not for those who shall soirow no more, 
Whose warfare is ended, whose trial is o'er. 
Let the song be exalted, triumphant the chord, 
And rejoice for the dead who die in the Lord ! " 

I am sure the calling hence of thy beloved mother 
will only stimulate thee in thy work for the living. 
We can leave our dead with the Lord ; they are 
safe with Him. His blessing be with thee I 


Hampton Falls, 8th mo., 19, 1892. 
I don't believe that half of the nice things the 
papers are saying of thy little book reach thea 


Here is a clipping from the , the best and 

ablest literary paper in the country. With loving 
remembrance from thy friend. 

He read more or less each day, keeping well 
informed of current events, and was seldom ab- 
3ent from the morning Bible readings. His only 
literary work during the summer, beside the atten- 
tion that he gave to his correspondence, was 
the writing of the poem addressed to Oliver 
Wendell Holmes upon his eighty-third birthday, 
August 29, and correcting the proof of his new 
volume "At Sundown," which was then going 
through the press. 


Habipton Falls, N. H., 8th mo., 26, 1892. 
Dear Holmes, — I intended to write some- 
thing for thy birthday, but the thought suggested 
itself that I might get it into the September " At- 
lantic." I wrote some verses in a great hurry, as 
I knew the time of publication was near. A friend 
copied them and omitted one verse. I discovered 
the mistake and sent the "missing link," but it 
was too late.^ I send with this the poem as I wrote 
it. It was written on the hottest day of the 
season, and that must excuse its defects. With a 
great deal of love, thy friend. 

^ This mistake seriously aimoyed Mr. Whittier, but in a letter 
about it to his publishers he said pleasantly, " I think anybody 
who tmdertakes to make yerses in his eighty-fifth year, on the 
hottest day of the hottest season, deserves to suffer for it.'* 



Hampton Falls, N. H., 8th mo., 80, : 

My deab Friend, — I write no letters now. 

But I went to my room to tell thee how I liked 

thy strong and noble poem in the '^ Atlantic " 

[" The Lost Colors"], when my mail came with thy 

most kind note. I thank thee most warmly for 

it. It was a curious coincidence. God bless thee ! 

Affectionately, John G. Whittier. 

The perfect freedom he felt in the home of his 
friend was observed by visitors, as he escorted 
them through the rooms, calling attention to vari- 
ous attractions and pointing out fine views from 
the windows, and the magnificent elms upon the 
lawn, dating back to the colonial days, one of 
which, by his own measurement, had a trunk 
eighteen feet eight inches in circumference, and 
another seventeen feet. But the tender personal 
associations had a charm for him beyond even 
the beauties of the landscape, and one day, when 
sitting under the trees with a group of young 
people around him, he exclaimed with much en- 
thusiasm, ^^This is a very sweet spot to me: I 
used to come here with my mother." 

On the wide balcony upon which the door of 
his room opened he passed many happy hours, 
looking admiringly out upon the broad Hampton 
meadows and watching the distant ships. His 
poems, "The New Wife and the Old," "Hamp- 
ton Beach," " The Wreck of Rivermouth," and 

^ This is one of three letters written on this day — the last 
letters he erer wrote. 


others, were suggested by scenes and incidents in 
this neighborhood. 

After a few weeks at Hampton Falls his cousin 
alluded to his intention of spending some time at 
Centre Harbor, and asked if he still had it in pros- 
pect, to which he replied : " I have been thinking 
about it, but have given it up, it is so pleasant 
here, and we are having such a comfortable, happy- 
summer ; but," he added, with his usual thought- 
fulness for others, " if any of you wish to go there, 
1 will remain here in your absence." His conclu- 
sion was equally satisfactory to his f riends^ and the 
party continued unbroken the rest of the summer. 

The " last eve of summer," which he so pathet- 
ically commemorated two years before, found him 
prostrated by illness, suffering from such an attack 
as he was liable to at that season of the year, and 
which he himself was inclined to regard lightly. 
The remedies used not having the desired effect, 
his physician, Dr. J. A. Douglass of Amesbury, 
was called, and under his treatment he became 
much better; the third day he felt so well that 
he walked across the hall and joined his friends 
in cheerful conversation, proposing to return to 
Newburyport early the next week. On the morn- 
ing of September 3, shortly after rising, he expe- 
rienced a paralytic shock, which so affected his 
right side that he was confined to his bed, and 
the condition of his throat was such that speaking 
and taking medicines and nourishment were ex- 
tremely difficult. When his illness assumed this 
serious character, and there seemed slight hope of 
his rallying, his friends who were with him feared 


he might regret his absence from home, as he had 
many times expressed a hope that his last illness 
might be in Amesbury, where his beloved mother 
and sister had lived and died ; but he accepted his 
situation with sweet composure, often saying in 
slowly uttered and broken sentences, ^^It is all 
right — everybody is so kind." 

His consideration for the feelings of his corre- 
spondents was shown in a marked way in the last 
week of his life. There came to him from a 
Western State a letter from an author of whom 
he had never before heard, who said he had 
sent him a volume of his poems for which he 
had received no acknowledgment. Then followed 
an impudent lecture upon his duty in such a case. 
^' A letter of acknowledgment and a volume of his 
own works should have been sent," as had been 
done by other poets, who were named. No one 
could read such a letter without anger at its inso- 
lence and presumption. When Mr. Whittier's let- 
ters were being read to him, and his attendant came 
to this, it was supposed that he would do no more 
than have his angry correspondent informed that 
his book had not reached him, as he was away from 
home, and that this ungracious letter was the first 
intimation he had received of his existence. But 
he said, ^' No, that is not enough ; the poor man 
does not know the circumstances, which must be 
explained to him pleasantly, and directions must 
be sent to my publishers to have a volume of my 
works forwarded to him." This was done, and his 
correspondent probably received both book and let- 
ter after the telegraph had announced to him that 
his unkind letter had been sent to a dying man. 


Dr. Francis A. Howe, of Newburyport, a be- 
loved personal friend, as well as skillful physician, 
was in daily attendance with Dr. Douglass, and 
Dr. Sarah Ellen Palmer, of Boston, remained in 
the house, rendering efficient service by her wise 
counsel and sympathy. From the first, he seemed 
fully aware of his critical condition, often assuring 
his friends of his entire resignation and his trust 
that all would be well. The day before his death 
he alluded feelingly to the kindness and tender 
care he had received, saying to his physicians and 
attendants, "You have done all that love and hu- 
man skiU could do; I thank you." Sometimes 
when his medicine was brought to him he would 
say, " It is of no use ; I am worn out." He main- 
tained the same patient, trustful, peaceful spirit 
that so beautifully marked his long and suffering 
illness the previous winter. " Love — love to 
all the world " and similar expressions were fre- 
quently on his lips. He had been subject to 
sleeplessness all his life, and usually with open 
eyes greeted the first signs of day. He had al- 
ways preferred a sleeping-room in which he could" 
watch from his bed the rising sun, and it had been 
his custom to raise the shades of his chamber win- 
dows that the early light might have no obstruc- 
tion. On the morning before his death, when there 
seemed a prospect of his sleeping, the nurse quietly 
drew down the shades to darken the room; he 
observed this, and exclaiming, " No, no," made a 
quick, upward gesture, with the only hand which 
could obey the mastership it had owned so many 
years, and for the last time he enjoyed the mystery 


of the brighteniDg heavens. In the afternoon un- 
favorable symptoms increased, and he seemed at 
times unconscious, but when asked by his niece if 
he recognized her, he replied, ^^ I have known thee 
all the time." These were his last audible words. 
He had been spared much acute pain, and seemed 
realizing what he had once written when alluding 
to a beloved friend who was suffering greatly with 
no hope of relief : " Happy are they to whom the 
solemn angel comes unannounced and quietly, and 
who are mercifully spared a long baptism of suffer- 
ing." He lay through the night apparently in a 
quiet sleep, and with the dawn of another morning, 
and under the overshadowing of Infinite Peace, 
which was sweetly felt by all present, his pure 
spirit passed upward to the never-ending day. 
His poem ^^ At Last " was recited ih tearful voice 
by one of the little group of relatives at his bed- 
side as the last moment of his life approached. 

On the announcement of his death the flags upon 
the public buildings in Haverhill and Amesbury 
were placed at half mast, and the citizens were in- 
formed of the event by eighty-four strokes upon 
the beUs. The Mayor of Haverhill, Thomas E. 
Bumham, issued the following proclamation : — 

" With feelings of unfeigned sorrow the people 
of our city will receive the sad intelligence of the 
death at Hampton Falls, N. H., of Haverhill's 
most illustrious son, John Greenleaf Whittier. 
It would be idle at this time to attempt to recount 
his labors, or to describe his achievements. As a 
man of letters the world bears record of his fame. 
His genius was unexcelled. His purity of thought 


and life, his compassion for the unfortunate, and 
his heart, that was ever open for his kind, stamp 
him as one who will receive the honor and homage 
of every nation and every tongue. But to us, the 
people of the city that gave him birth, there is a 
still tenderer tie. It was here that he spent his 
childhood, and received his early inspiration ; here 
he wrought in the same industries by which we 
earn our daily bread. Our hills, our woods, our 
lakes, and our traditions furnished themes for 
his gifted pen. Nay, we have felt the strength of 
his citizenship and the warmth of his love, and 
it is with peculiar and heartfelt sorrow that we 
mourn for our own. 

" In token of this sorrow, the house in which he 
was bom will be appropriately draped in mourning ; 
the flags upon the public buildings will remain at 
half mast until after the obsequies ; the bells upon 
the city hall and churches will be tolled, and the 
city offices will be closed during the funeral hour ; 
at that time the teachers in the public schools will 
lay aside all other duties, and cause appropriate 
mention to be made of his character and works, — 
that our citizens may give proper expression to the 
universal lament." 

The citizens of Danvers, also, and other places 
manifested their sorrow by similar tokens of re- 
spect and affection. 

On the afternoon of September 9, with the 
tolling of the village church bell, the people at 
Hampton Falls, who had known and loved him 
while there, came to pay their last tribute of affec- 
tion, and his remains were borne away to the 


Amesbury home, tlie church bells of Seabrook and 
Salisbury sending forth their mournful peals as 
the procession passed. The funeral services were 
held the next day. Thousands of people availed 
themselves of an opportunity to look upon the face 
of the poet, as the body lay in the little parlor, be- 
neath the portraits of his mother and sister. Many 
came from neighboring cities and towns, and each 
railway train brought numbers of friends from a 
distance. The city government of Haverhill came 
in a body, and also the Whittier Club of Haver- 
hill. Mr. Whittier had expressed in his will a de- 
sire that his funeral should be conducted in '' the 
plain and quiet way of the Society of Friends," 
with which he was "connected by birthright as 
well as by settled conviction of the truth of its 
principles and the importance of its testimonies." 
The house being far too small to receive the large 
number of persons who were expected to be pres- 
ent, the services were held in the garden ; and the 
day was most propitious for an out-door gather- 
ing. Seats for several hundreds were arranged 
around a myrtle-carpeted plat under the " garden 
room " windows, and other hundreds stood under 
the fruit trees in the rear. Boys clambered into 
the branches of the trees, and their bare feet, hang- 
ing over the heads of the assembled multitude, 
could not fail to suggest that it was the author of 
"The Barefoot Boy" to whose memory they were 
paying tribute. 

Brief addresses were made by several ministers 
of the Society of Friends, and Judge Des Brisay 
of Nova Scotia, Rev. Dr, Fiske of Newburyport, 


and Caroline H. DaU of Washington. The last 
speaker was Edmund Clarence Stedmau of New 
York, whose every word, uttered with deep feeling, 
had the weight of a trained artist's judgment, and 
glowed with the love of one poet soul for another. 
As a fitting conclusion of the impressive ceremony 
there arose the sweet voices of the Hutchinsons, 
who were endeared to Whittier by the friendship 
of many years, and by their active participation 
in his anti-slavery labors. They sang " Under the 
Clover " and " Close his eyes, his work is done." 

Mr. Whittier's remains were interred in the vil- 
lage cemetery, in the section reserved for the So- 
ciety of Friends. His lot is surrounded by a 
well-kept arbor vitaB hedge. At the comer where 
his brother is buried is a tall cedar, and at the 
foot of his own grave is another symmetrical tree 
of the same kind. Between him and his brother 
lie their father and mother, their two sisters, their 
aunt Mercy and uncle Moses. These comprise 
the whole family commemorated in the poem 
" Snow-Bound." Plain marble tablets, all exactly 
alike, mark these graves, and the poet's tomb- 
stone, afterward erected, is of the same simple 
pattern. The cemetery is upon an eminence over- 
looking the valley of the Powow in which nestles 
tiie thriving village of Amesbury ; and the broad 
waters of the noble Merrimac, here a tidal stream, 
are close at hand, with the hills of old New- 
bury beyond. It is a spot midway between his 
birthplace and the place where he died, — a fit 
resting-place for him whose verse has celebrated 
every phase of the scenery it overlooks. Hither 


for all time will come those who love the memory 
and admire the genius of the prophet of freedom, 
the poet of New England life. 

Mr. Whittier died at the early dawn of a lovely 
September day; it was at the close of a day 
equally perfect that his casket was lowered to 
a bed of roses in a grave lined with ferns and 

The tribute of Dr. Holmes to the memory of 
his friend may here be appropriately given : — 

'* Thou, too, hast left ns. While with heads bowed low, 
And sorrowing hearts, we mourned our summer^s dead, 
The flying season bent its Parthian bow. 
And yet again our mingling tears were shed. 

" Was Heaven impatient that it could not wait 
The blasts of winter for earth's fruits to fall ? 
Were angels crowding round the open gate 
To greet the spirits coming at their call ? 

*' Nay, let not fancies, bom of old beliefs. 

Play with the heart-beats that are throbbing still, 
And waste their outworn phrases on the griefs, 
The silent griefs, that words can only chilL 

'* For thee, dear friend, there needs no high-wrought lay, 
To shed its aureole round thy cherished name, — 
Thou whose plains home-bom speech of Tea and Nay 
Thy truthful nature ever best became. 

'* I>eath reaches not a spirit such as thine,— 
It can but steal the robe that hid thy wings ; 
Though thy^warm breathing presence we resign, 
StiU in our hearts its loying semblance cUngs. 

" Peaceful thy message, yet for struggling right, — 
When Slavery's gauntlet in our face was flung, — 
While timid weaklings watched the dubious fight, 
No herald's challenge more defiant rung. 


** Tet was thy spirit tuned to gentle themes 

Sought in the haunts thy humble youth had known. 
Our stem New England's hills and vales and streams, — 
Thy tuneful idyls made them all their own. 

** The wild flowers springing from thy native sod 

Lent all their charms thy new-world song to fill, — * 
Gave thee the mayflower and the golden-rod 
To match the daisy and the daffodil. 

" In the brave records of our earlier time 
A hero's deed thy generous soul inspired, 
And many a legend, told in ringing rhyme. 
The youthful soul with high resolve has fired. 

" Not thine to lean on priesthood's broken reed ; 
No barriers caged thee in a bigot's fold ; 
Did zealots ask to syllable thy creed. 
Thou saidst, * Our Father,' and thy creed was told. 

*^ Best loved and saintliest of our singing train. 
Earth's noblest tributes to thy name belong. 
A lifelong record closed without a stain, 
i A blameless memory shrined in deathless song. 

'^ Lift from its quarried ledge a flawless stone ; 
Smooth the green turf, and bid the tablet rise. 
And on its snow-white surface carve alone 
These words, — he needs no more, — Here Whittier liesJ'^ 



In reply to a paper read before the Massachusetts 
Historical Society by Rev. Dr. George E. Ellis, criti- 
cising the historical accuracy of his ballad with the 
above title, Mr. Whittier sent this letter to the Boston 
"Advertiser " in March, 1881 : — 

A friend has called my attention to a paper read by Dr. 
Ellis before the Massachusetts Historical Society, upon the 
persecution of the Friends in New England of the seven- 
teenth century, in which my poetic version of an incident of 
that period, the " King's Missive " to Governor Endicott, is 
criticised. It is not easy in a poem of the kind referred to 
to be strictly accurate in every detail, but I think the ballad 
has preserved with tolerable correctness the spirit, tone, and 
color of the incident and its time. At least such was my 
intention. Certainly, I did not profess to hold up that 
reprobate monarch, Charles II., as a consistent friend of 
toleration, or of any other Christian virtue. The Quakers 
of his time knew him too well to attribute his actions to any 
other than selfish motives. They were never deceived by 
his professions of liberality, as Baxter and his friend, ** old 
Mr, Ash," were, when they wept for very joy over his gra- 
cious words and promises. They sought to obtain from him 
some relief from their sufferings, and did so in a few in- 
stances when it suited his caprice, or when the persecutors 
complained of happened to be Puritans. 

The letter of the king commanded that further proceedings 
against the imprisoned Friends should be stayed, and that 
they should be sent to England for trial. To this Govemoz 


Endicott promised implicit obedience. The prisoners were 
released from the jail, and they and their friends outside 
were for the first time permitted to meet together in Boston, 
and praise God for their deliverance. That the persecution 
did not cease is tme. fiat eyer after the hunted Quakers 
breathed more freely, and felt that the end of their long 
night of tribulation was near. That the prisoners were not 
sent to England was probably due to the fears of the gor- 
emor and his advisers that their doings would not bear a 
legal investigation. The only way of evading the king's 
requisition was to have no prisoners in the jail. " Drake's 
History of Boston," page 357, says, << An order was issued 
for the discharge of the Quakers then in prison. William 
Salter was the prison-keeper. There were, a little previous 
to this, twenty-eight persons lying in Boston jail, one of 
whom, Wenlock Christison, was under sentence of death." 

In Bryant and Gray's ^ History of the United States," vol. 
ii., page 197, it is stated that " William Salter, keeper of 
Boston jail, was at once ordered to release and discharge all 
the Quakers in his custody." In the journal of George Fox 
it is said, in relation to this matter, that '' the passengers in 
the ship and the Friends in the town met together, and 
offered up praise and thanksgiving to God, who had so won- 
derfully delivered them out of the teeth of the devourer ; " 
and that, while they were thus met, ** in came a poor Friend, 
who, being sentenced by their bloody law to die, had lain 
some time in irons, expecting execution." Dr. Evans, in his 
carefully compiled << History of Friends in the Seventeenth 
Century," says, " The council issued an order to the keeper 
of the prison to set at liberty all the Quakers then in confine- 
ment." (Page 260.) 

I think it will be seen that there was a "general jail deliv- 
ery " in consequence of the king's demand ; that the Friends 
met together and thanked God for their deliverance, and that 
'< one appointed to die," and who had lain in irons expect- 
ing death, was with them. It has been said that Wenlock 
Christison was released before Shattuck's arrival, in conse- 
quence of his "recantation." He recanted nothing. He 
stated only that he found a freedom in his mind to depart 


out of the jurisdiction, and that he did not know as he should 
ever come back. Mary Dyer left the colony under the same 
circumstances, and after a time felt herself called upon to 
return. It seems more than probable that Christison was 
not set at liberty until after the arrival of the king's mes- 
sage, for he would not have been permitted to remain in 
Boston one hour after liberation, and it appears that he was 
with the little company who met together in praise and 

It is true, and for the credit of human nature it should be 
stated, that the cruel enactments for whipping, branding, 
selling into slavery, and death on the gallows were distasteful 
to a considerable minority of the people of New England. 
Governor Winthrop of Connecticut remonstrated against the 
course of the Massachusetts authorities, as did also Salton- 
stall and Pike among the magistrates of the colony. But 
there is no evidence that the clergy, who were the instigators 
of these laws, faltered for a moment in their determination 
to enforce them, so far as their influence could be exerted 
upon the magistracy. Endicott, Bellingham, and Bradstreet 
needed no stimulus from them. There is not the slightest 
evidence that these men had abated one jot or tittle of their 
fixed determination to crush out and exterminate every germ 
of Quakerism. Nor can it be said that the persecution grew 
out of the "intrusion," "indecency," and "effrontery" of 
the persecuted. 

It owed its origin to the settled purpose of the ministers 
and leading men of the colony to permit no difference of 
opinion on religious matters. They had banished the Bap- 
tists, and whipped at least one of them. They had hunted 
down Gorton and his adherents ; they had imprisoned Dr. 
Child, an Episcopalian, for petitioning the General Court for 
toleration. They had driven some of their best citizens out 
of their jurisdiction, with Anne Hutchinson, and the gifted 
minister. Wheelwright. Any dissent on the part of their 
own fellow-citizens was punished as severely as the heresy 
of strangers. 

The charge of " indecency " comes with ill grace from the 
authorities of the Massachusetts Colony < The first Quakers 


who arrived in Boston/ Ann Austin and Mary Fisher, were 
arrested on board the ship before landing, their books taken 
from them and burned by the constable, and they themselves 
brought before Deputy-Governor Bellingham, in the absence 
of Endicott. This astute magistrate ordered them to be 
stripped naked, and their bodies to be carefully examined, 
to see if there was not the Devil's mark on them as witches. 
They were then sent to the jail, their cell window was 
boarded up, and they were left without food or light, until 
the master of the vessel that brought them was ordered to 
take them to Barbadoes. When Endicott returned, he 
thought they had been treated too leniently, and declared 
that he would have had them whipped. 

After this, almost every town in the province was favored 
with the spectacle of aged and young women stripped to the 
middle, tied to a cart-tail and dragged through the streets 
and scourged without mercy by the constable's whip. It is 
not strange that these atrocious proceedings, in two or three 
instances, unsettled the minds of the victims. Lydia Ward- 
well of Hampton, who, with her husband, had been reduced 
to almost total destitution by persecution, was summoned by 
the church of which she had been a member to appear before 
it to answer to the charge of non-attendance. She obeyed 
the call by appearing in the unclothed condition of the suf- 
ferers whom she had seen under the constable's whip. For 
this she was taken to Ipswich and stripped to the waist, tied 
to a rough post, which tore her bosom as she writhed under 
the lash, and severely scourged to the satisfaction of a crowd 
of lookers-on at the tavern. One, and only one, other in- 
stance is adduced in the person of Deborah Wilson of Salem. 
She had seen her friends and neighbors scourged naked 
through the street, among them her brother, who was ban- 
ished on pain of death. She, like all Puritans, had been 
educated in the belief of the plenary inspiration of Scripture, 
and had brooded over the strange << signs " and testimonies 
of the Hebrew prophets. It seemed to her that the time 
had arrived for some similar demonstration, and that it was 
her duty to walk abroad in the disrobed condition to which 
her friends had been subjected, as a sign and warning to the 


persecutors. Whatever of " indecency " there was in these 
cases was directly chargeable upon the atrocious persecution. 
At the door of the magistrates and ministers of Massachu- 
setts must be laid the insanity of the conduct of these 
unfortunate women. 

But Boston, at least, had no voluntary Godivas. The only 
disrobed women in its streets were made so by Puritan 
sheriffs and constables, who dragged them amidst jeering 
crowds at the cart-tail, stripped for the lash, which in one 
instance laid open with a ghastly gash the bosom of a young 
mother t 

It is a remarkable proof of the purity of life among the 
early Friends that their enemies, while exhausting the lan- 
guage of abuse against them, pointed to no instances of 
licentiousness or immoral practice. However enthusiastic 
or extravagant, they '' kept themselves unspotted from the 
world.'* Woman, from the Quaker standpoint, was re- 
garded as man's equal and beloved companion, like him 
directly responsible to Grod, and free to obey the leadings of 
the Spirit of Truth. From the rise of the society to the 
present time the peace, purity, and peculiar sweetness of 
Quaker homes have been proverbial. 

The charge that the Quakers who suffered were " vaga- 
bonds," and ^' ignorant, low fanatics," is unfounded in fact. 
Mary Dyer, who was executed, was a woman of marked 
respectability. She had been the friend and associate of Sir 
Henry Vane and the ministers Wheelwright and Cotton. 
The papers left behind by the three men who were hanged 
show that they were above the common class of their day in 
mental power and genuine piety. John Rous, who in execu- 
tion of his sentence had his right ear cut off by the constable 
in the Boston jail, was of gentlemanly lineage, the son of 
Colonel Rous of the British army, and himself the betrothed 
of a high-bom and cultivated young English lady. Nicholas 
Upsall was one of Boston's most worthy and substantial 
citizens, yet was driven in his age and infirmities, from his 
home and property, into the wilderness. 

If the authorities were more severe in dealing with the 
Quakers than with other dissenters, it was because they 


were more persistent in maintaining their rights of opinion. 
The persecutors were, on the whole, impartial in their intol- 
erance. The same whip that scored the back of Holmes, 
the Baptist, fell on that of Wharton, the Quaker. The same 
decree of banishment was issued against Mary Dyer and 
^jme Hutchinson. The same jail door that was shut upon 
the twelve-year-old Quaker girl was closed also upon the 
learned and world-traveled Dr. Child, the Episcopalian. 

The Friends have been accused of running upon the 
sword of the law held out against them, of glorying in per- 
secution. This charge was urged against the early Chris- 
tians. It was said of the martyr Ignatius, on his way to 
Rome, that he longed to come to the beasts that were to 
devour him ; that he would invite them to tear him ; nay, 
should they refuse to do so, he would force them. The 
good Emperor Marcus Antoninus expressed his dislike of 
the Christian -sect, because of their '< obstinacy in seeking 
death." It must be owned that the persecuted Quakers 
were more afraid of violating conscience than unrighteous 
law. They held duty paramount to any other considera- 
tion. They could die, but they could not deny the truth. 
To such " obstinacy " the world is largely indebted. The 
religious freedom of our age is the legacy of the heroic con- 
fessors, who suffered and died rather than yield their hon- 
est convictions. It was Quaker "obstinacy" and sturdy 
endurance which opened the jails of England, crowded with 
Presbyterians and Independents, among them the great 
names of Baxter and Bunyan. Baxter, who hated them 
with all the intensity of his nature, owns that the Quakers, 
by their perseverance in holding their religious meetings in 
defiance of penal laws and brutal mobs, took upon them- 
selves the burden of persecution, which would otherwise 
have fallen on himself and his Presbyterian friends ; and 
especially mentions with commendation the noble and suc- 
cessful plea of William Penn before the Recorder's Court 
of London, based on the fundamental liberties of English- 
men secured by the Great Charter. 

The inheritors of the name and religious opinions of the 
suffering Friends of New England have no wish to deprive 


the Puritan authorities of any proper extenuation or pallia- 
tion of their severity. But in truth there is but one excuse 
for them — the hard and cruel spirit of the age in which 
they lived. They shared its common intolerance. With 
the single exception of the Friends, every sect in Christen- 
dom believed in the right of the magistrate to punish her- , 
esy. There were indeed individuals, and among the noblest 
of the age, who sympathized with the persecuted Friends, 
and exerted themselves for their relief — such men as Syd- 
ney and Vane, Milton and Marvel, Tillotson and Locke, 
Prince Rupert and Lord Herbert. But these were solitary 

For myself, I have always cheerfully admitted to its full 
extent this plea of universal intolerance, in extenuation of 
the New England ministers and magistrates. I do not 
doubt that they regarded the Quaker doctrine of the Divine 
Immanence as a fatal heresy. They could bring no charge 
of immorality against the men and women whom they 
whipped and hanged. They could not charge them with 
taking up arms in rebellion, or countenancing in any way 
a forcible resistance to even unjust law. They could not 
deny that when left unmolested they were industrious and 
temperate, peaceable and kind neighbors and citizens. 

The tendency of Quakerism to promote peace, good order, 
and worldly prosperity was proved by the fact that three of 
the colonies, Rhode Island, North Carolina, and Pennsyl- 
vania, under the Quaker governors, Coddington, Archdale, 
and Penn, were exceptional examples of peace, order, and 

Dr. Ellis has been a very generous, as well as ingenious 
defender of the Puritan clergy and government, and his 
iabors in this respect have the merit of gratuitous disinter- 
estedness. Had the very worthy and learned gentleman 
been a resident in the Massachusetts colony in 1660, one of 
his most guarded doctrinal sermons would have brought 
down upon him the wrath of clergy and magistracy. His 
Socinianism would have seemed more wicked than the * in- 
ward light " of the Quakers ; and, had he been as <* dog- 
gedly obstinate " as Servetus at Geneva (as I do him the 


justice to think he would have been), he might have hung 
on the same gallows with the Quakers, or the same shears 
which clipped the ears of Holder, Rous, and Copeland 
might have shorn off his own. 

I can assure him that in speaking on this subject I have 
always honestly endeavored to do justice to both parties. 
In the ballad to which he refers I think I have done so. In 
<< Margaret Smith's Diary '' I have gone to the extreme in 
finding excuse for John Norton himself. I find no fault 
with Dr. Ellis's championship of Endicott and his advisers. 
I only regret that, in attempting to vindicate them, he has 
done injustice to the sufferers, who he seems to think were 
at least quite as much to blame for being •hanged as Endi- 
cott was for hanging them. We who inherit the faith and 
name of these noble men and women, who gave up home 
and life for freedom of worship, have no desire to be com- 
plimented at their expense. Holding their doctrine and 
reverencing their memories, we look back awed and hum- 
bled upon their heroic devotion to apprehended duty, and 
with gratitude to Grod for their example of obedience unto 

JoHK G. WHirnKB. 

AxBSBDBT, 3(1 mo., 22, 1881. 

To this reply Dr. Ellis made a rejoinder in which he 
says that the missive of the king only suspended until 
the next court, but did not alter, the laws and proceed- 
ings of the magistrates, which they put in force after- 
wards ^4n all respects," save only as they limited to 
three the number of the towns through which a vaga- 
bond Quaker was to be whipped in getting him out of 
the jurisdiction ; and the king wrote another letter the 
next year, in which he says he is not to be understood 
as wishing any indulgence to those persons commonly 
called Quakers. ^^ We have found it necessary here to 
make a sharp law against them, and are well contented 
that you do the like there." This sentence occurs in 
the rejoinder : — 


^< He [Mr. Whlttier] says tiiat I seem to think that 
the Quakers were as much to blame for bemg hanged 
as Endicott was for hanging them. I might not put 
the matter in that way, but the most candid and delib- 
erate judgment I can form on the sad episode is, that 
both parties were equally chargeable with wrong and 

Mr. Whittier continued the discussion, and concluded 
it, so far as he was concerned, with the following letter : 

I find in the " Advertiser " of this morning a rejoinder from 
Dr. Ellis to my commmiieation of the 28th instant. I do not 
know that any farther remarks on my part are really neces- 
sary, but I would like to notice briefly one or two points. 
Dr. Ellis reiterates his belief that no prisoners were released 
in consequence of the << King's Missive.'' If he is right in 
his opinion that there were no Friends in the jail at the time, 
the reply of Governor Endicott to the king's messenger, 
Shattuck, would have been prompt and decisive that His Maj- 
esty had been misinformed, as there were no such persons 
condemned or imprisoned in the colony. Instead of this, he 
consulted his deputy and assured Shattuck that the king's 
command should be obeyed. 

In answer to my suggestion that the imprisoned Friends 
were not sent to England for trial agreeably to the king's 
demand, from a fear that the action of the colonial magis- 
. trates would not bear a legal investigation, Dr. Ellis states 
that a year previous certain prisoners were released on condi- 
tion of their departure in an English ship. The cases are not 
parallel. The people thus sent off had no means of bringing 
their cause before a British court, and the Massachusetts 
authorities well knew there was no danger of their enact- 
ments and penalties being tested by English law. But the 
king's letter to Endicott is an imperative demand : << If there 
be any of those people called Quakers amongst you already 
condemned to suffer death or other corporal punishmenty or 
that are imprisoned and obnoxious to [such condemnation, 
you are to forbear to proceed any further therein ; and that 


you forthwith send the said persons, whether condemned or 
imprisoned^ oner unto this our kingdom with the respective crimes 
or offenses laid to their charge, to the end that such course may 
be taken with them here as shall be agreeable to our laws 
and their demerits." A literal compliance with this demand 
would have led to a full disclosure before English tribunals 
of the cruel and unwarranted proceedings of the colonial 
government. Hence the only safe course for the governor 
and his advisers was to liberate all the Friends who were in 
confinement, and then declare there were no such persons as 
the missive designated in the jail at Boston. 

If, as Dr. Ellis avers, the king's letter had no effect of 
releasing prisoners or staying for the time, at least, the se- 
verity of the persecution, the two delegates of the colony 
sent to England in consequence of that letter must have been 
guilty of falsehood. Simon Bradstreet positively stated that 
there was no longer any persecution in New England, and John 
Norton confirmed it. It is true they made the statement 
under some fear that the father of Robinson, one of the per- 
sons executed, might hold them accountable as parties to his 
son's murder. George Fox in his journal says that " some 
of the old Royalists were earnest with Friends to have pros- 
ecuted them, but we told them we left them to the Lord, to 
whom vengeance belonged." 

Dr. Ellis seems to find in the incivility and strong lan- 
guage of the early Friends an excuse for the severity of the 
laws against them. The language of controversy in that 
day was not remarkable for courtesy and delicacy, and I 
admit that the speech of the hunted and outlawed Quakers 
had a good deal of the old Saxon energy. Something should 
be pardoned in them, however, when their opponents' lack 
of argument was supplemented by halter and whipping-post. 
In point of fact, in decorous language and Christian charity 
towards those who differed from them, the Quakers of that 
day were quite as exemplary as the magistrates and minis- 
ters who persecuted them. It was a coarse, hard age, in 
which nobody was mealy-mouthed. The Puritan himself 
was scarcely the modem ideal of a saint. We can imagine 
how he seemed to his Rhode Island, Dutch, and Acadian 


neighbors. There is abundant evidence, too, that his Zion 
had internal troubles of its own, with the bitterness of which 
such <' outside barbarians " as Quakers and Baptists ^< inter- 
medelled not." Any one who reads the careful study of a 
Puritan neighborhood in the first yolume of Upham's " His- 
tory of Salem Witchcraft" may see how strife, enyyings, 
covetousness, and bitter family feuds rankled beneath the 
outward show of church fellowship. Cotton Mather's testi- 
mony in this respect is noteworthy. 

He tells us that '' the rebuilding or removing of meeting- 
houses has tempted neighbors from lifting pure hands with- 
out wrath in those houses ; inclosing of commons hath made 
neighbors that should have been as sheep to bite and devour 
one another ; disposal of little matters in the militia has 
made people almost ready to fall on one another with force 
of arms ; little piques between leading men in a town have 
misled all the neighbors far and near into most unaccounta- 
ble party-making." He tells also of ^< inordinate passions, 
sinful hearts and hatreds among church members themselves, 
who abound with evil surmisings, uncharitable and unright- 
eous censure, back-bitings and tale hearing ^nd telling." 
Surely it would seem that in such a community a slight in- 
fusion of Quakerism could not do much harm. 

But enough of this. A son of New England, proud of her 
history, I take no pleasure in dwelling on the sad and tragic 
story of the Quaker persecution. Of all that is true and 
noble in the character of the Puritans, there is no warmer 
admirer than myself. But for the sake of vindicating them 
from the charge of that intolerance which they shared with 
nearly all Christendom, I cannot undertake to justify or ex- 
cuse persecution by vilifying its victims. As heartily as my 
friend Dr. Ellis I love Boston, — the city of the Pilgrims, — 
the tokens and monuments of its historic renown, — Faneuil 
Hall, the Old South, all its memorable places and associa- 
tions ; and, if he cannot sympathize with, he will at least 
respect, the feeling of reverence with which I regard even 
its beautiful Common, knowing that hidden somewhere 
under its green turf are the graves of the Quaker martyrs. 

John G. Whittier. 



Soon after the death of Mr. Whittier, the late Hon. 
James H. Carleton purchased the homestead at East 
Haverhill, and transferred it to a hoard of trustees, 
composed of memhers of the Whittier Cluh of Haver- 
hill. In the deed of gift, Mr. Carleton expressed the 
wish that the natural features of the landscape might he 
preserved, the huildings restored as nearly as possible 
to their original condition, and access to them giveii to 
the public, ^^ that thereby the memory of and love for 
the poet and the man may be cherished and perpetu- 
ated." Mr. Alfred A. Ordway was named as president 
of the board of trustees, and he has taken charge of the 
restoration of the house and grounds, his aim being to 
bring the estate into a condition as nearly as possible 
resembling that of eighty years ago. He has found and 
restored to their old places many of the articles of fur- 
niture which were in the house in Whittier's youth. The 
house is now open to the public on certain days of each 
week, and thousands of visitors make pilgrimage to the 
scene of ^^ Snow-Bound/' an electric railway which passes 
the spot making it easy of access. 

Mr. Whittier's Amesbury home is to be kept by his 
niece as a memorial of his long residence in that village, 
the house and grounds to remain substantially as he left 
them. The little *^ garden room " which he' used as a 
study, and in which he received his friends and guests, 
will retain its books and pictures in the places he assigned 
them. The portraits of his mother and sister will re- 
main in the parlor. In this house, also, is preserved the 
desk upon which '< Snow-Bound " and most of the poems 
and letters of his middle life were written. 




Legends of New England. Prose and Verse. Hartford, 

Moll Pitcher. Boston, 1832. 

Literary Remains of John G. C. Brainard, with Biographi- 
cal Sketch by Whittier. Hartford, 1832. 

Justice and Expediency ; or, Slavery considered with a 
View to its Rightful and Effectual Remedy, Abolition. Ha- 
verhill, 1833. 

Mogg Megone. Boston, 1836. 

Views of Slavery and Emancipation ; from " Society in 
America," by Harriet Martineau. Edited by Whittier. 
New York, 1837. 

Letters from John Quincy Adams to his Constituents. 
With Preface by Whittier, and also two anti-slavery poems. 
Boston, 1837. 

Poems written during the Progress of the Abolition Ques- 
tion in the United States, between the Years 1830 and 1838. 
Boston, 1837. 

Poems. Published by Joseph Healy. Philadelphia, 1838. 

Moll Pitcher, and the Minstrel Girl. Revised Edition. 
Philadelphia, 1840. 

The North Star ; the Poetry of Freedom, by her Friends. 
Edited by Whittier. Philadelphia, 1840. 

A Visit to the United States in 1841. By Joseph Stnrge. 
With Preface by Whittier. Boston, 1842. 

Lays of my Home, and Other Poems. Boston, 1843. 

Miscellaneous Poems. Boston, 1844. 

The Stranger in Lowell. Boston, 1845. 

Voices of Freedom. Philadelphia, 1846. 

The Supernaturalism of New England. New York, 1847. 
(Published in London the same year.) 

Poems. Illustrated by H. Billings. Boston, B. B. Mus- 
sey, 1849. 

Leaves from Margaret Smith's Journal. Boston, 1849. 

Poetical Works. London, 1850. 


Songs of Labor, and Other Poems. Boston, 1860. 

Old Portraits and Modern Sketches. Boston, 1850. 

Little Eva ; Uncle Tom's Guardian Angel. Music by 
Emilio Manuel. Boston, 1852. 

The Chapel of the Hermits, and Other Poems. Boston, 

A Sabbath Scene. Illustrated. Boston, 1853. 

Literary Recreations and Miscellanies. Boston, 1854. 

The Panorama, and Other Poems. Boston, 1856. 

Poetical Works. Blue and Gold Edition, two volumes. 
Boston, 1857. 

The Sycamores. Nantucket, 1857. 

Home Ballads, Poems, and Lyrics. Boston, 1860. 

In War Time, and Other Poems. Boston, 1863. 

The Patience of Hope. By Dora Greenwell. Edited, with 
an Introduction, by Whittier. Boston, 1863. 

Snow-Bound. A Winter Idyl. Boston, 1866. (Illas- 
trated editions have been published in Boston and London, 
and the poem has been translated into several languages.) 

Prose Works. Two volumes. Boston, 1866. 

Maud MuUer. Illustrated. Boston, 1867. (A quarto 
edition was published in London, illustrated, in 1886 ; also 
a 16mo edition in 1891.) 

National Lyrics. Illustrated. Boston, 1867. 

The Tent on the Beach, and Other Poems. Boston, 1867. 
(An illustrated edition was published in 1877.) 

Among the Hills, and Other Poems. Boston, 1869. 

Poetical Works. With illustrations. Boston, 1869. Re- 
vised edition, 1874. 

Ballads of New England. Illustrated by Harry Fenn. 
Boston, 1870. 

Two Letters on the Present Aspect of the Society of 
Friends. London, 1870. 

Miriam, and Other Poems. Boston, 1871. 

Child Life, a Collection of Poems. Edited by Whittier. 
Illustrated. Boston, 1871. (An edition was published in 
London in 1874.) 

The Pennsylvania Pilgrim, and Other Poems. Boston, 


The Journal of John Woolman. With Introduction by 
Whittier. Boston, 1872. 

Complete Poetical Works. Household Edition. Boston, 

Chad Life in Prose. Edited by Whittier. Boston, 1874. 
(An edition was published in London in 1880.) 

Mabel Martin, and Other Poems. Boston, 1874. (Illus- 
trated edition published in 1876.) 

Hazel Blossoms. Boston, 1875. 

Complete Poetical Works. Illustrated. Boston, 1876. 

Songs of Three Centuries. An anthology edited by Whit- 
tier. Boston, 1876. 

Vision of Echard, and Other Poems. Boston, 1878. * 

William Lloyd Garrison and his Times. With Introduc- 
tion by Whittier. Boston, 1880. 

Complete Poetical Works. Three volumes. Boston, 
1880. (Republished in London, with critical biography by 
W. M.Rossetti.) 

The River- Path. (One of four poems in ^< Christmas- 
tide.") Boston, 1880. 

The King's Missive, and Other Poems. Boston, 1881. 
(The title poem appeared originally in << The Memorial His- 
tory of Boston.") 

The King's Missive, Mabel Martin, and Later Poems. 
London, 1881. 

Complete Poetical Works. Illustrated. London, 1881. 

Letters of Lydia Maria Child. With Biographical Intro- 
duction by Whittier, and an Appendix by Wendell Phillips. 
Boston, 1883. 

The Bay of Seven Islands, and Other Poems. Boston, 
1883. (Published in London the same year.) 

Poetical Works. With Prefatory Notice by Eva Hope. 
London, 1885. 

Poems of Nature. Illustrated by E. Kingsley. Boston, 

Saint Gregory's Guest, and Recent Poems. Boston, 1886. 

American Literature, and Other Papers, by E. P. Whip- 
ple. With Introductory Note by Whittier. Boston, 1887. 

Poetical and Prose Works. Seven volumes. Riverside 
Edition. Boston, 1888. 


Poetical Works, with Life, Notes, etc. Albion Edition. 
London, 1891. 

At Sundown. With designs by E. H. Garrett. Boston, 
1892. (An edition of this work, less full, was privately 
printed in 1890.) 


The Poets and Poetry of America, by Rof us W. Griswold. 
Philadelphia, 1856. (Whittier, pp. 389-406.) 

Whittier Birthday Book, arranged by Elizabeth S. Owen. 
Boston, 1881. 

John Greenleaf Whittier, his Life, Genius, and Writings. 
By W. Sloane Kennedy. Boston, 1882. 

Leaflets. Compiled by Josephine E. Hodgdon. Boston, 

John Greenleaf Whittier. A Biography. By Francis H. 
Underwood. Boston, 1884. 

Proceedings at a Presentation of a Portrait of John Green- 
leaf Whittier to Friends' School, Providence, R. I., 1884. 
Cambridge, 1885. 

Text and Verse. For Every Day in the Year. Scripture 
Passages and' Parallel Selections from Whittier's Writings. 
Arranged by Grertrude Whittier Cartland. Boston, 1885. 

Selections from the Writings of John G. Whittier, ar- 
ranged under the Days of the Year, and accompanied by 
Memoranda of Noted Events. Boston, 1887. 

John G. Whittier. The Poet of Freedom. By W. Sloane 
Kennedy. In " American Reformers " Series. Boston, 1892. 

Birthday Chimes, from Whittier. Selected by J. R. E. B. 
Edinburgh, 1892. 

A Memorial of John G. Whittier, from his Native City, 
Haverhill, Mass. Published by Authority of the City Coun- 
cil, 1893. 

Life of John Greenleaf Whittier. By W. J. Linton. 
London, 1893. 

Whittier : Notes of his Life and of his Friendships. By 
Mrs. James T. Fields. New York : Harper & Brothers, 

Personal Recollections of John G. Whittier. By Mary B. 
Claflin. New York : Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., 1893. 


** Abiulm Mobbison," origin of poem, 

AdamB, Charles F., 317 ; W. advises 
nomination of, 329, 332. 

Adams, John Q., 74, 119, 170, 172 ; 
presents Hayerhill petition, 179 ; ef- 
forts to expel him, 180 ; 188, 195 ; 
letters edited by W., 208, 209 ; con- 
tributes to " North Star," 223 ; 232, 
254, 269 ; visited by W., 328 ; his 
death, 329 ; 696. 

Adams, Nehemiah, 40, 437. 

Adams, Samuel, 197. 

Aldrich, Charles, 48. 

Aldrich, T. B., letters to, 678, 690. 

Alexander, Francesca, 688. 

Allen, Charles, 331, 332. 

Allen, Ethan, 67. 

Allen, Col. Julian, 565. 

AlUnson, WUliam J., 222. 

American and Foreign Anti-Slavery 
Society, 314. 

American Anti-Slavery Society, 205, 

" American Manufacturer,*' 73-78, 93, 

Ames, Oliver, 727. 

** Among the Hills," changes in poem. 

" Amy Wentworth," 543. 

Anagnos, M., 749. 

Andrew, John A., 434, 485. 

"Andrew Rykman^s Prayer," 449; 
criticised, 450; 525,684. 

Anthony, A. V. S., engraver, 598. 

Anthony, Nellie M., 500. 

" Anti-Slavery Reporter," 205. 

Appleton, James, 206. 

Archdale, John, 781. 

Arnold, Matthew, 738. 

Aahby, William, 532, 665. 

Atchison, D. R.,375. 

Atherton, C. G., 229. 

"Atlantic Monthly," 134, 155, 343, 
4(H-431 ; its success, 430 ; 442, 457, 
520, 526, 563, 602, 635, 763. 

"At Last," 690, 768. 

"At Port Royal," changes in poem, 

" At Sundown," 750, 763. 

Atwater, Richard M., letter to, 673. 

Atwood, Rev. Julius W., reminis- 
cences, 695-697. 

Austin, Ann, 778. 
Austin, Katheriue H., 673. 
Ayer, Lydia, referred to in " In School 
Days," 547. 

Bachelder, C. E., 11. 

Bachiler, Rev. Stephen, comes to 
America, 10 ; returns to England, 
12 ; personal traits transmitted, 12 ; 
44, 761. 

Bachiler, Susannah, 12. 

Bachiler, Theodate, 10, 11. 

Bagley, Abner L., 304. 

Bagley, Valentine, 750. 

BaUey, Gamaliel, edits " Philanthro- 
pist," 314; founds "National Era," 
315 ; faces a mob, 315 ; 321, 324, 338, 

"Ballads of New Enghind," letter 
about illustrations, 643; reviewed 
by Howells, 544. 

Bancroft, George, 634, 727. 

Bancroft, George (of Springfield), 

"Banished from Massachusetts," 717. 

Banks, N. P., 374. 

Banning, the Misses, 421. 

" Baptist Preacher," 73, 76. 

" Barbara Frietchie," origin of ballad, 
454-456 • 476. 

" Barefoot Boy*, The," 21, 22, 702, 717. 

Barnard, F. A. P., 86, 98; finding 
again, 531 ; dedication of " Mir- 
lam " to, 568 ; letter to, 741. 

Bartlett, Mrs., 754. 

Bartlett, Wm. Francis, 754. 

Bartol, C. A., 728. 

Barton, Bernard, 51. 

Bassett, Mrs. A. B., reminiscences, 

Bates, Arlo, 728. 

Bates, Charlotte Fiske, 634 ; letter to, 

Bearcamp House, 605, 623, 669. 

Beecher, H. W., 367, 566, 595. 

Bellingham, Richard, 777, 778. 

Bells of Saint Boniface, the, 420, 757. 

Benton, Thomas H., 322, 586, 703. 

Berry, Alice G., 32. 

" Between the Gates," 753. 

Bibliography, 787-790. 

Billings, Hammatt, 347. 

" Birchbrook Mill,^' 717. 



Biraey, Junes O., 20S, 207, 283, 314. 

" Birthday WrMth, The," 763. 

Blaine, Jamee G., 638, 671, 727. 

*• Boston AdTertiaer,^* 686, 669, 686, 

** Boston Atlas,*' 200. 

" Boston Chronotfype," 311. 317. 

** Boston Courier,'^110, 203, 286, 297, 

" Boston Statesman," 66. 

" Boston Transcript," letters to, 67, 
640, 680, 600. 

BoatweU, Cktorge 8., 361, 362, 383. 

Bowditch, Henry IngersoU, 266, 379, 
648; letter to, 7^; letter from, 

Bowditch, OliTia, letter to, 379 ; let- 
ter from, 767. 

Bowen, H. C, 648. 

Brsdford, William, 442. 

Bradstreet, Simon, 777, 784. 

Brainard, J. O. C, 97. 

Braithwaite, James Bevan, letter 
from, 609. 

Bramabarg, C. B., 466. 468. 

Briggs, George N., 3&1 

Bright, John, correspondence with, 
W., 461; oontribation of Ames- 
bury acknowledged, 461 ; 682, 704 ; 
letter of criticism to W., 705 ; W.'s 
reply, 707, 708; letters to, 716, 


Brisbane, Dr. Wm. H., 268. 

Brooks, James, 86. 

Brooks, Maria O., 212. 

Brooks, Phillips, 628 ; letter from, 

713; 747,754. 
Brooks, Preston S., 380. 
Brown, David Paul, 232. 
Brown, John, raid disapproved, 426, 

Brown, Dr. John, 699. 
Brown, Moses, 124, 657. 
Brown University, 414, 673. 
Browning, Robert, criticised, 370; 

Bryant, W. C, 86 ; satirised by W., 

106, 106, 109 ; 116, 226, 364, 435, 660, 

686, 616, 617, 634. 
Buchanan, Jsmes, 413, 433. 
Buckingham, Joseph T., 67, 110 ; his 

postscript to " Texas" 298 ; 666. 
Buffnm, Arnold, 133, 232. 
Burleigh, G. C, 268. 
Burleigh, Margaret, letter to, 604 ; 

letter from, 592. 
Burleigh, WUliam H., 302. 
Burlingame, Anson, 357, 363. 
Bumham, Thomas E., 768. 
" Burning Driftwood," 746, 760. 
Bums, Anthony, 367, 370. 
Bums, Robert, first read by W., 42, 

Bumside, Oen. A. E., 456. 
Burr, Aaron, 224. 
Burr, J. P., 224. 
Burritt, Elihu, 302. 

Burroughs, Rev. George, 614. 

BuUer, A. P., 375. 

Butiec Benjamin F., 671, 690, 696, 

Butler, Mrs. Charles, 164. 

"Cable Hymn, The," 417, 418. 

CaldweU, Jacob, 192, 194. 

CaldweU, Louis H., 29. 

CsldweU, Mary E., 29. 

Calhoun, J. C, 164. 

Cambrelinjr, C. C, 322. 

Cameron, Simon, 468. 

" Captain's WeU, The," 750. 

Carleton, James H., 753, 786. 


Carlton, OUver, 56, 12, 

Carriage Builders' Association, letter 

Carter A Hendee, 103. 

Carter, Robert, 289. 

Cartland, Anna, 277. 

CartUmd, Gertrude Whittier, vl., 
48, 316, 478, 642, 679, 612, 616, 625, 
626, 655, 669, 688, 694, 711,714, 739, 
746, 747, 760, 762 ; letters to, 604, 
606, 646, 666, 665, 693, 684. 

Cartland, Joseph, 35, 225, 256, 277, 
478, 642, 679, 612, 622. 626, 626, 6G9, 
688, 693 : letters to, 694, 709. 

Cartland, Moses A., takes W.'s place 
on " Freeman," 243, 248 ; 258, 277, 
284, 386, 642; letters to, 259, 271, 

Cary, Alice, 325 ; death, 666, 671. 

Cary, Phoebe, 326, 367. 

Cass, Lewis, 288. 

Cavassa, Elisabeth, letters to, 716, 
719 762. 

'* Centennial Hymn," 613. 

" Century Magaiine," 468. 

Chadwick, John W., letter from, 720 ; 
letter to, 721. 

"Changeling, The, "643. 
Channing, W. E.j 136; 


by W., 137 ; 209, 266, 270, 642. 
Channing, W. F., 333; letter to, 642. 
" Chapel of the Hermits, The," 327. 
Chapman, Maria Weston, 232, 266, 

Charbonnier, J. D., moderator Van- 

dois church, 607, 609; writes to 

W., 607 ; W.'s reply, 608. 
Chase, Aaron, 04, 168. 
Chase, C. C, letter to, 64. 
Chase, Nathan, 66. 
Chase, Salmon P., 314, 468, 663. 
Chase, Thomas, 704. 
Chad, Dr., 777, 780. 
" Child Life," 674. 
" Child Life in Prose," 692. 
ChUd, Lydia Maria, 488, 639, 634; 

letters to, 389, 390, 437, 486, 490, 

603, 622, 649. 
ChUds, George W., 395, 668, 728. 
Choate, Mrs. Kate, 567. 
Choate, Rufus, 164. 



" Christ in the Tempest," 90. 

Ohrlstison, Weulock, 776. 

*' Christmas Carmen, A,*' 591. 

*' Cincinnati American," 74. 

*< Cincinnati PhiUnthropist," 314. 

Claflin, Mrs. M. B., 609, 621, 622 ; 

letter to, 587. • 
Claflin, William, 584, 588, 612 ; letter 

to, 585; W.'s lines to, 609. 
Clarke, James Freeman, 684, 628, 

Clarkson, Thomas, 269. 
Clay, Henry, 73, 74, 75, 81, 89, 97, 116, 

117, 123, 127, 128, 164, 209, 237, 

243, 268, 269, 670, 703. 
Clemens, Samuel R., 635, 657. 
Coates, Edwin H., 224. 
. "Cobbler Keezar*s Vision," 161, 429, 

Coddington, Gov., 781. 
Coffin, Charles F., 704; presents 

portrait to Friends* School, 704; 

Coffin, Elisabeth, 14. 

Coffin, Joshua, has W. for pupil, 
41 ; reads Bums to liim, 42 ; 133, 
273, 477 ; death, 477 ; anecdote of, 

Coffin, Tristram, 14. 

Coleridge, S. T., 241. 

Collier, Robert, 634. 

Collier, Thomas S., 634. 

Corner, Wm., 70, 73, 76. 

ColUer, Wm. R., 70, 76. 

" Columbia Star," 105. 

Comstock, Elizabeth li., 664. 

" Connecticut Mirror," 105. 

Cook, Joseph, 628. 

Copeland, J., 782. 

Corwin, Thomas, 314, 321. 

Corydon, Benj., letter from, 527. 

Cotton, John, 779. 

" Countess, The," 453, 543, 544. 

Cranch, C. P., 634, 635, 756. 

Crandall, Reuben, 124, 269. 

Crane, John, 96. 

Crary, Isaac E., 86, 88. 

Cresson, Elliott, 226. 

Crosby, Nathan, 64. 

Cmmmell, Alexander, 473. 

** Cry of a Lost Soul, The," translated 
by Dom Pedro, 450. 

Cullis, Dr^ 632. 

Currier, Horace H., 653. 

Currier, J. J., 640; letter to, 541. 

Curson, Mary, 526. 

Curtis, George William, 634, 657, 666. 

Cushing, Caleb, 95, 120, 125, 163, 164, 
167-169; plied with petitions by 
W., 172 ; assists J. Q. Adams, 172 ; 
commended by W., 175, 177 ; elec- 
tion in 1838 prevented, 181-186 ; let- 
ter dictated by W., 183 ; confirma- 
tion prevented, 185 ; 188, 195, 244, 
254, 352 ; letters to, 126, 173-179, 

Cushing, J. R., 154. 

Dall, Caroline H., 771. 

Dana, Charles A., 384. 

Dana, Nathan, 725. 

Dana, Richard H., 634. 

Dana, Richard H., Jr., 491. 

Davis, Edward M.. 216. 

Davis, Jefferson, 449. 

Davis, John, 170. 

Davis, Rebecca I., reminiscencesi 63, 

" Day's Journey, A," 714. 

Death of W.'s mother, 412-413. 

Degrees conferred, 414. 

Del Floys, Don F., 209. 

" Democratic Review," invited to con- 
tribute to, 226; 229,289,290,296, 

" Demon of the Study, The," 665. 

Depew, Chauncy M., 740. 

Des Brisay, Judge, 770. 

Dickens, Charles, readings, 528 ; 563 ; 
death of, 664, 578. 

Dickinson, Anna E., 215, 539. 

Dickinson, John, 215. 

Dickinson, Susan E., reminiscences, 

Dinamoor, Robert, 66. 

Dix, Dorothea L., 441, 458, 685 ; letter 
from, 686 ; letters to, 660, 679, 687. 

DIx, John A., 322. 

Dole, Sarah, 14. 

Dom Pedro, 422, 450 ; visits Boston, 
620-622, 743. . 

Douglas, Stephen A., 375, 413. 

Douglass, Frederick, 571, 727. 

Douglass^. A., 765. 

Dowdell-Wilsou, Maria, reminis- 
cences, 746. 

" Drovers, The," 348. 

Dustin, Hannah, 4. 

Dyer, Mary, 777, 779, 780. 

East Parish, 1, 4, 6, 7, 36, 62, 71. 

**Ein Feste Burg ist unser Gott," 
459 467. 


Ellis, George E., 669, 660, 775-785. 

" Emancipator," 205, 238. 

Emerson, Charles, 86. 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 373 ; plans to 
consolidate anti-slavery sentiment, 
374, 403, 405, 418, 511, 535, 650, 663, 
603, 635, 636, 696, 720, 721 ; letters 
to, 366, 374, 383, 590; letter from, 

Endicott, John, 658, 777, 778, 783. 

Endicott, Wm., Jr., 491. 

"Essex Gazette." See ELaverhill 

" Essex Transcript," 303. 

" Eternal Goodness, The," 684, 706. 

Evans, Mercy, 9. 

Evans, Thomas, 776. 

" Eve of Election, The," 410-412. 

Everett, Edward, 170, 185, 192, 193, 
194 ; his inaugural, 196, 197 ; 201 ; 
W.'s tribute to, 489. 



** Exiles. The/' 294; realiBm of de- 
scription, 295. 

Famsworth, Amos. 199, 246. 

Farrar, F. W.. 667, 713 ; calls for Mil- 
ton inscription, 728 ; letter to, 729 ; 
letter from, 739. 

Felice, Prof, de, 607. 

Felton, Prof. C. C, 204. 

Fenn, Harry, 644, 660.. 

Fields, James T., contribntes to 
"North Star," 223, 292 ; 367, 430, 
479 ; congratulated upon marrii^e, 
348 ; publishes blue and gold edi- 
Uon of W.'s poems, 392-^; W. 
suggests a charity, 395, 657; first 
reference to " Snow-Bound," 494 ; 
" The Tent on the Beach," 605-606 ; 
"Among the Hills," 637; 638,647, 
649, 563, 578, 620, 721, 725; letters 
to, 340, 343, 346, 348-350, 359, 368, 
377, 378, 393, 895, 396, 397, 412,443, 
448, 449, 460, 463, 476, 480, 487, 488, 
494, 495, 497, 498, 506, 606, 607, 
608, 509, 511, 512, 526, 627, 530, 637, 
543, 568, 669, 621, 667 ; letters from, 
392, 395, 458. 

Fields, Annie, 453, 497, 606, 754 ; let- 
ters to, 631, 649, 664, 603, 610, 613, 
675, 677, 681, 688, 693, 709, 712, 731, 
732, 73a-734, 738-740, 742, 743, 758- 
760 ; letter from. 422. 

Fillmore, MiUard, 351. 

Fisher, Mary, 778. 

Fiske, Rev. Dr., 770. 

Fletcher, Rev. J. C, 606, 607. 

Follen, Dr. Charles, 137. 

Folsom, Abby, 266. 

Forbes, J. M., 590. 

Forrest, Edwhi, 88. 

Forster, William, visits W. homestead, 

Forster, Hon. W. E., 37. 

Forten, Charlotte (Mrs. Orimk^), 471, 
626; letters to, 472, 473; letter 
from, 472. 

Forten, James, 472. 

Fowler, Harriet P., letter to, 646. 

Fox, George, 4, 650, 784. 

Franklin, Gen., 468. 

'* Free Press," of Newburyport, 60, 

Freiligrath, Ferdinand, 629. 

Fremont, Jessie Benton, reminis- 
cences, 460-466 ; letters to, 463, 464, 
465 ; letters from, 388, 487. 

Fremont, John C., candidate for 
Presidency, 38^-389 ; 412, 413, 459 ; 
reads poem addressed to himself, 
463 ; 467, 486 ; asked to stand aside, 

Fremont, Lilly, 465. 

"Friend, The," 265. 

" From PerugU," 423, 424. 

Fuller, J. E., letter to, 239. 

Fuasell, Bartholomew, 229. 

Gage, Rev. N., 146. 

Gail Hamilton, asks about line in 

695, 596, 690, 646 ; letters from, 410, 

Gale, James, 65. 

Galusha, Elon, 268. 

"Garden," 422. 

Garden room, the, 160, 581, 661. 

Garland, Thomas B., 753. 

Garrison, Francis J., 136, 754. 

Garrison, William Lloyd, receives 
W.'s first poem, 50, 51 ; calls on W., 
52 ; edits first temperance paper, 70 ; 
72, 76, 78, 94, 120 ; asks W. to study 
question of slavery, 121 ; 122, 127 ; 
asks W. to go to Phihidelphia, 132 ; 
133, 138 ; denounces colonization, 
139; invites George Thompson to 
America, 140 ; 142 ; in Boston mob, 
143 ; 190, 207, 232, 237, 266, 270, 272, 
375, 570, 602, 634, 648, 649, 661, 
653, 661, 668 ; letters to, 62, 132. 

Garrison, William Lloyd, Jr., 165. 

Gay, Elizabeth (NeaU), letters to, 666, 
719, 747. ^ 

Gy, Sydney Howard, letter to, 669 { 

Gilmore, Patrick S., 691. 

Godkin, E. L., 512. 

Godwin, Parke, 405. 

" Golden Wedding of Longwood,The,'' 

Gordon, Charles George, 690, 705-708, 

Gorton, Samuel, 777. 
Gould, David, 257. 
Gove, Edward, 761. 
Gove, Elizabeth, 510. 
Gove, Sarah Abby, 760. 
"Grace Greenwood," 314, 325, 344, 

639; letters to, 335, 355, 481, 624, 

672, 716. 
Grant, U. S., 635. 
Gray, Isa, 222. 
Great HiU, 15. 

Greeley, Horace, 364, 665, 663. 
Green, Ruth, 1, 8. 
Greene, Nathaniel, 56. 
Greene, Mrs. Nathaniel, 44. 
Greenleaf, translated from Feuille- 

vert, 663. 
Greenleaf, Edmund, 13, 14. 
Greenleaf, Nathaniel, 14. 
Greenleaf, Sarah, marriage, 8 ; ballad, 

13 ; genealogy, 14. 
Greenleaf, Simon, 14. 
Greenleaf, Stephen, 14. 
Greenleaf, Tristram, 14. 
Grimk^, Angelina E. (Weld), 207, 208, 

232 ; marriage, 236, 237, 239. 
Grimk^, Charlotte. See Charlotte 

Griswold, Rufus, 756. 
Gumey, J. J., 257, 261, 268. 



Hale, John P., letter of advice from 
W., 311 ; 316 ; nomination by Buffalo 
convention, 319^25 ; 330, 333, 334, 
335; letters to, 306, 311, 317, 319- 

Hale, Sarah J., 76, 105. 

Hall, MarshaU P., letter to, 669. 

Halleck, Fitz-Greene, 88, 115. 

Hallock, Mary, 598, 599. 

Hamilton, Charles A., 372. 

" Hampton Beach," 764. 

Hancock, John, 197. 

Hanson, J. W., letter to about illus- 
trations, 543. 

Harriman, Edwin, 93, 125 ; letters to, 
163, 164, 168, 169. 

Harris, E. N., 147. 

Haskell, Daniel N., 395, 725. 

Haskell, Geonre, sketched in " Snow- 
Bound," 34, 41. 

Haskell, Samuel, 34. 

Havener & Phelps, 92. 

HaverhiU, 2-5, 67, 76^. 

" HaverhiU,'^ 750. 

Haverhill <* Gazette," 53, 56, 57, 62, 
63, 72, 79, 116, 121, 123, 128, 163, 
192-195, 203. 

Haverhill " Iris," 105, 110, 116, 125, 

Hawley, James R., 612, 616, 617, 618. 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 342; submits 
" The Great Stone Face " to W., 343. 

Hayes, Rutherford B., 628, 630. 

Hayne, Paul H., 502, 634. 

Hfizard, Joseph P., 527. 

" Hazel Blossoms," 610. 

Heoly, Christopher, 256. 

Healy, Joseph, 104, 217, 220, 239, 
249, 266 ; letter to, 254. 

Hedge, Frederic H., 728. 

Hemans, Felicia, 609. 

" Henchman, The," origin of poem, 
647; 672. 

Herbert, Lord, 781. 

Hicksites, 225, 256, 258. 

Higginson, T. W., describes Whittier 
family,^30; first interview with W., 
291 ; 363 ; m South Carolina, 472, 
473 ; 634, 635, 636. 

HiUiard, H. W., 375. 

" Hill-Top, The," 680. 

" History of Saco," 204. 

Hoadley, Charles J., 99. 

Hoar, George F., 332, 685, 713, 725,728. 

Hodgdon, Julia A., letter to, 639. 

Hoffman, G. F., 115. 

Holder, C., 782. 

HoUand, J. G., 634, 657. 

Holmes, Oliver Wendell. 346; W.*s 
first meeting with, 368; 405, 417, 
418, 453, 590, 602, 603, 615 ; declines 
to write Centennial ode, 616 ; 617, 
620, 634, 635, 636, 691, 692; W.'s 
birthday tribute to, 697 ; 698, 713, 
728, 747, 772 ; letters to, 654, 751, 
752, 753, 763 ; letters from, 640, 643, 
667, 674, 741, 752, 755. 

Holmes, Oliver Wendell, Jr., 742. 

Holmes, the Baptist, 780. 

•' Home Ballads," 598. 

" Homestead, The," 717, 718. 

Hooper, Lucy, 204 ; acquaintance with, 

210 ; contributes to " North Star,*^ 

223 ; 245, 274 ; letters to, 211-214. 
Houghton, Henry O., 493, 635. 
How, George C, 754. 
Howard, Apphia H., letters to, 522, 

" Howard at Atlanta," 545. 
Howard, Oliver O., 545. 
Howard, R. H., 90. 
Howe, Dr. Francis A., 767. 
Howe, Julia Ward, 367, 611. 
Howe, Samuel G., 332, 353, 375, 491, 

Howells, W. D., reviews " Ballads of 

New England," 544; 635, 636,734; 

letters to, 647, 735. 
" How the Robin came," 717. 
" How they climbed Chocorua," 672. 
Hunt, Judge, 247. 
Hussey, Christopher, 4, 10, 11. 
Hussey, Mercy Evans, 29, 30, 32; 

personal traits, 33 ; romance of her 

life, 34; 771. 
Hussey, Samuel, 9. 
Hutchinson, Anne, 777, 780. 
Hutchinson, John W., sings to soldiers, 

467, 468 ; at Whittier's funeral, 771. 
" Hymn for the House of Worship at 

Georgetown," 638-540. 
" Hymn sung at Christmas," origin 

of, 471. 
" Hymns of the Brahmo Somaj," 717. 

"Ichabod," 327. 349, 368, 636. 
"Independent," the, 423, 424, 442, 

489, 539, 571, 573, 576, 677, 647. 
** Indian Summer," intended volume, 

Ingalls, J. J., on colonization of Kan- 

Inga^s, Mary, 453. 

" In Remembrance of Joseph Sturge," 

" In School Days," 545 ; changes in, 

546; 641. 
*' In War Time," royalty on, 476 ; 505. 

Ipswich, 11. 

Irving, Washii^fton, 115. 
Isles of Shoals, 520, 521, 524, 525, 543, 

564, 565. 

" Jack to the Pulpit," 574. 

Jackson, Andrew, 75, 170. 

Jackson, Francis, 287. 

Jackson, Stonewall, 465. 

Jarvis, Leonard, 172. 

Jay, William, 232. 

Jewett, Sarah Ome, 688, 712, 731, 

764, 758, 759; letters to, 654, 676, 

679 ; letter from, 718. 
Job's Hill, 2, 15, 22, 24, 161, 295. 



Johnson, Andrew, 490, 491. 

iJohnson, K PMiline, 766. 

Johnson, the MlMes, 614. 

Jones, Auffostine, 667. 

Jones, BUmbeth B., letters to, 660, 

676. (Bee Cavasss.) 
JnbQee Singers, the, 661. 
**Ju8tioe and Expediency," 48, 123, 

126, 312, 670. 

' Kathleen," changes in poem, 341. 

Kearny, Gen. FhiUp, 468. 

Keller, Helen, letter from, 748 ; let- 
ter to, 749. 

KeUy, Abby, 232, 266. 

Kendall, Amos, 116. 

Kennedy, W. 8., 196, 676. 

Kenoza Lake, 23. ^ 

Kent, George, shelters W. and Thomp- 
son, 149-151. 

Kent, Wm. A., defends W., 160. 

Kimball, Harriet McSwen, 682, 764 ; 
letter to, 486. 

Kimball, J. H., 149. 

Kimball, Hary Bmrers, reminiscences, 
378; letter to, 663. 

King, Thomas Btarr, letters from, 
375,474; 475,476,726. 

Kinjsley, Charles, 695, 626. 

Kingsley, Mrs. Charles, letter to, 626 ; 
letter from, 627. 

" King's Missiye, The," 668, 669, 661, 

*<King Volmer and BIsie," 675, 676, 

Knapp, C. L., 306. 

Knapp, Isaac, 209, 214. 

" Knickerbocker Magaihie," 115, 

Knowles, Benj. K, 628. 
Kossuth, 363, 460. 

'« Ladies* Magazine," 105. 

Laighton, Oscar, 666. 

Lamb, Charles, 661, 740. 

Lamson, Btephen, reminiscences, 304. 

Landon, Letitia E., 90. 

Larcom, Lucy, 326 ; writes campaign 
sonff, 384 ; first meets W., 482 ; Eliz- 
abeth's love for, 483 ; procures 
Elizabeth's portrait, 602 ; rhymed 
letters to, 603. 663 ; W. sends *'In 
School Days'* to, 546; 667; as- 
sists hi editing " Child Life," 574, 
675 ; assists in compiling ** Songs 
of Three Centuries," 611, 624, 634 ; 
714 ; letters to, 370, 422, 431, 432, 
469, 470, 471, 480, 481, 482, 489, 497, 
602, 603, 611, 614,522, 634, 646, 652, 
681, 692, 606, 625, 663, 699, 715, 747, 

*' Last Eve of Summer, The,'* 750. 

Lathrop, George P., 634, 647. 

Latimer, George, 290. 

Laurel parties, 632. 

*'Laus Deo,*' composed in meeting, 

Law, Jonathan, 86, 87, 96, 96, 105: 
letters to, 97, 116,170. 

Lawson, James, 107, 109. 

" Lays of my Home," first book re- 
munerative, 293 ; 294, 347. 

Leavitt, Joshua, 206, 207, 246, 269, 

"Legend of the Lake, A," 444-448; 
reason of suppression, 446. 

** Legends of New Enriand," 92. 

Leggett, William, 88, 107, 109. 

Letter to Fifty British Triends, 683. 

Lewis, Alonzo, 102. 

" Lexington, 1775," 602. 

«« Liberator," the, 122, 138, 142, 196, 
203, 214, 290. 

Liberty party, formed, 284. 

Light & Steyens, 204. 

" Light that is Felt, The," origin of 
poem, 717. 

Lincofai, Abraham, 431, 432, 450, 459 ; 
reads '' Furnace Blast," 468, 486. 

" Lines on a Fly-Leaf," 638. 

•< Lines on a Portrait,'^ 645. 

" Literary World," 634, 638. 

Livermore, Edward St. Loe, 36, 494, 

livermore, Harriet, life dcetched, 
35, 494, 753. 

Livermore, Samuel, 36. 

Uoyd, Elizabeth, Jr., 217. 

Locke, John, 781. 

Long, John D., 422. 

LongfeUow, H. W., ancestral home- 
stead, 23; 342, 346, 404, 405, 512 ; 
comment on ** In School Dayp," 
546 ; 660, 595, 508, 699, 603, 617, 620, 
634, 636, 636 : death of, 677, 678, 

Longfellow, Samuel, 367, 728. 

Lorlng, Charles G., 491. 

Loring, George B., letter to, 743; 
letter from, 744. 

" Lost Occasion, The,'* 067. 

Loudin, Mr., 662. 

Lowell, James Russell, edits " Pio- 
neer," 288 ; his introduction to 
" Texas : Voice of New England," 
297 ; 298-303 ; visits W., 361 ; 403 ; 
edits "Athuitlc," 405; suggests 
change in ** Skipper Ireson," 40C ; 
criticises rhymes, 407; 417; his 
*' ViUa Franca," 424; 650; asked 
to write Centennial ode, 616, 017 ; 
sonnet, 704 ; 728, 731, 750, 753 ; let- 
ters to W., 300, 302, 303, 406, 408, 
410, 411, 412, 414, 416, 419, 423, 426, 
427 ; letters from, 289, 407. 

Lundy, Benjamin, 76, 215. 

« Mabel Martin,* 
Macy, Thomas, 4, 294. 
*' Maids of Attitash, The," 609, 643. 
Mann, Horace, 287, 327, 330,375. 
Mannhig, Jacob M., 491. 
" Marais du Cygne, Le," 371-373, 406 ; 
changes in poem, 417. 



Marcus, Herman, 746. 

"Margaret Smith's Journal,*' 340, 

"Marguerite," origin of, 342; 545, 

547, 549, 576. 
Marrel, Andrew, 781. 
" Mary GarTin," 379 ; changes in 

poem, 530 ; 643. 
" Massachusetts to Virginia," origin 

of poem, 290; 291. 
Mather, Cotton, 785. 
Matthews, Stanley, 630. 
" Maud Muller," 368, 377. 
Maule, Elisha, 278. 
May, Samuel J., 135, 143, 146. 
** Mayflowers, The," origin of poem, 

McGIellan, George B., 468. 

McKim, James MiUer, 135, 251. 

McLean, John, 322, 332. 

McLeUan, Isaac, 756. 

McLeod, X^orman, 625. 

" Meeting, The," change in poem, 538. 

"Memories," romance embalmed in 

poem, 276, 349. 
"Memory, A," 378. 
" Mercantile Advertiser," 88. 
Meredith, Dr., 656. 
Merrill, John, 169. 
Merrimac river, 1, 2, 7, 294, 295. 
Merriraac village, 64. 
" Middlesex Standard," 303,305, 307. 
Mflton, John, 587, 729, 781. 
Milton, Rev. Mr., 296. 
" Minister's Daughter, The," 658, 667. 
Minot, Georffe, 59. 
Minot, Harriet. See Pitman, Harriet 

Minot, Stephen, 148. 
" Minstrel Girl, The," 80, 104, 217. 
" Miriam," 86, 161, 568. 
Mirick, B. L., 62, 429. 
'< Mogg Megone," 104, 110, 193, 203, 

Mohini, the Brahmin, 719. 

« Moll Pitcher," 91, 100, 103 ; story 

of, 104; 217. 
" Moloch in State Street," 356. 
Monroe, James, visits Haverhill, 25. 
Moody, Dwight G., 628. 
Morford, Henry, 634. 
" Morning Chronicle," 300, 302. 
Morrill, George W., 647. 
Morrill, Jettie. See Wason. 
Morrill, Justin S., 616, 617. 
Morton, Marcus, 194, 285, 291. 
Motley, John Lothrop, 405. 
Mott, Luoretia, 216, 232, 258. 
Mott, Richard, 257, 261 ; letter from 

W., 262. 
Moulton, Gten., legend of, 295. 
Moultoh, Louise Chandler, letter to, 

" Mountain Pictures," 443. 
Mussey, B. B., publishes edition of 

W.'s poem^ 347 ; 391, 392. 
"My Playmate," cliangea in poem. 

426 ; new stanza, 427 ; Tennyson's 
opinion of, 428, 543. 

"Name A " 663. 

"National* Era,'*' 130, 297, 315, 317, 

318, 324-327, 338; becomes self- 

supportmg, 339 ; 340, 343, 356, 3C0, 

365, 368, ^9, 377, 404, 454. 
"National Philanthropist," 56, 70, 

72, 73. 
Neal, John, 104. 

Neall, Daniel, 233, 251, 569, 659. 
NeaU, Elizabeth (Mrs. S. H. Gay), 223, 

251 ; letters to, 218, 666, 719. 
NeaU, Hannah Lloyd, 474, 475. 
New and Old Organizations. 207, 249, 

259 ; attempt to unite, 270. 
" New Bedford Mercury," letter to, 

Newbury, 5, 11, 23. 
" New England," 91. 
" New England Legends," 92. 
"New England Magazine," 67, 110, 

115, 203, 344, 655. 
"New England Review," 79, 80, 81, 

89, 94, 97, 203. 
" New Wife and the Old, The," 295, 

"New York Courier and Enqnirer,"85. 
" New rork Evening Post," 85, 435, 

" New York Tribune," 384, 735. 
Nichols, Algernon S., 309. 
Nichols, Martha, 678. 
Nicolmi, Giovanni, 607. 
Noah, Mordecai M., 85. 
" North American Review," 204, 667, 

" North Star," 223, 292. 
Norton, Charles Eliot, 636. 
Norton, John, 784. 
Noyes, E. F., 585. 

Oak KnoU, 606, 614, 622, 631, 661, 727. 

" Official Piety," 369. 

"Old Burying-Ground, The," 411, 

"Old Portraits and Modem Sketch^ 

es," 343, 344, 350. 
Old schoolhouse, 547. 
"Opium Eater, The," 344. 
Ordway, Alfred A., 295, 786. 
Ordway, Warren, 753. 
O'Reilly, John Boyle, 635. 
Ome, Ephraim B., 38. 
Osgood, James Ripley, letters to, 675, 

576, 598-600, 602, 658 ; 645, 647, 725. 
Osgood, Samuel, 266. 
Otis, Bass, 220. 
Otis, Harrison Gray, 54. 
Otis, James F., 64. 
Otis, James, 197. 
" Our Master," 506, 684. 
" Our State," 346. 
" Our Young Folks," 504, 646. 

Page, Sophronia, 517-519. 



** Pageant, The,** 545 ; origin of poem, 

649, 660, 67G. 
" Palatine, The," 527. 
Palfrey, J. G., 367, 363. 
Palmer, Alice Freeman, 754. 
Palmer, Mrs. George A., letter from, 

Palmer, Sarah Ellen, 767. 
** Panorama, Tlie," read hy T. Starr 

King, 376-377, 474. 
Park, John G., 684. 
Parker, Edgar, 696, 704. 
Parker, Theodore, letter from, 341; 

indicted for treason, 367 ; 406 ; his 

death, 428. 
Parkman, Francis, 634, 728. 
Parrish, Joseph, lends W. his wig, 234. 
Parsons, Samuel, 267. 
Parsons, Theophilus, 491. 
Parton, James, 596. 
♦' Passaconaway," 110, 243. 
** Pass of the sierra, The," 388, 889. 
" Pastoral Letter, The," 208. 
Patmore, Corentry, 693. 
Patton, Abby Hutchinson, letter to, 

744 ; at W.'s funeral, 771. 
Paulding, James K., 116. 
Peabody, George, 639. 
" Pearl, The,'* 104. 
Peasley, Joseph, 4, 6. 
Peasley, Mary, 6. 
Penn, William, 169, 876, 780, 781. 
Pennock, Abrahpm L., 269. 
"Pennsylvania Freeman,'* 183, 215, 

227, 229, 230, 232 ; W. resigns edi- 
torship, 264, 268, 659. 
Pennsylvania Hall, 136, 216 ; burning 

of, m, 230, 232, 234, 669. 
** Pennsylvania Pilgrim, The,'* 575; 

story of, 676. 
Perry, Gardner B., 199. 
Perry, Nora, letter to, 726. 
Pettengill, J. M., 304. 
Phelps, Amos A., 207, 266. 
Phelps, Elisabeth Stuart, 222, 646, 

663, 634 ; letters to, 667, 689, 695, 

632, 640, 648, 667, 680, 714, 733 ; W. 's 

last letter, 764. 
Philadelphia convention of 1833, 134. 
PhilUps, S. C, 178, 316, 317, 332. 
Phillips, Wendell, 191; uses W.'s 

thunder, 198 ; 367. 487, 649. 
Phillips, Willard P., letters from, 

Pickard, Elkabeth Whittier, 32, 47, 

461, 464, 466, 493, 604, 569, 666, 673, 

681, 606, 610, 612 ; marriage, 613 ; 

614, 622, 671, 714, 716, 786 ; letters 

to, 48, 624, 636, 661, 677. 
Pierpont, John, contributes to *' North 

Star," 223, 266, 286-288. 
Pike, Robert, 4, 777. 
Pillsbnry, Mary, 241. 
"Pine-Tree, Ihe," 

"Pioneer, The," 288. 
Piper, Murgaret, 14. 

he," origin of poem, 

"Pipes at Lncknow, The," 410; 
changes in poem, 416. 

Pitman, Harriet Minot, reminiscences 
of W., 58, 148, 244, 248, 309, 567 ; 
letters to, 209, 267, 268, 278, 477, 
612, 624, 648, 664, 688, 716, 718, 722, 
730; letter from, 746. 

Pleasant VaUey, 697. 

Poems and fragments of verse not in 
collected works, 13, 46, 49, 62, 63, 
65-67, 68-70, 73, 90-92,96, 106, lOC- 
109, 127, 223, 229, 242, 350 ; " What 
State Street said to Sooth Caro- 
lina," 357 ; " Sound the Trumpet," 
385; parody of "Capt. GroFe," 
896 ; *• The Quakers are Out," 432 ; 
inscription for Joshua Coffin, 479 ; 
lines omitted in " Snow-Bound,'* 
498 ; on fly-leaf of " Snow-Bound," 
500 ; rhymedletter to Lucy Larcora, 
503 ; to Gelia Thaxter, 621 ; to Mr. 
and Mrs. William Ashby, 533; 
album verses, 642 ; to Kate Ghoate, 
657; with autograph, 5(31, 5C2; 
verses introduchig Celia Thaxter's 
"Lars," 689; to Mr. and Mrs. 
Claflin, 609 ; inscription for foun- 
tain, 660 ; on death of Longfellow, 
678 ; for bust of Samuel E. Sewall, 
692 ; unfinished poem, 693 ; ha al. 
bum of grandson of T. D. Weld, 
698 ; for a " tin wedding," 714. 

Po hUl, 23 ; legend of, 110, 160-162, 
520, 636, 566. 

Porter, David R., 229. 

Powow river, 1, 110, IGl, 294, 543,672l 

Poyen, Abby, 464. 

Prang, Louis, letter to, 703. 

Pratt, Mary Elixabeth, 594. 

Pray, Isaac C, 104. 

" Preacher, The," 421. 

Prentice, George D., 79 ; letter from, 
80 ; 81, 83, 86. 

Prescott, W. H., 406. 

" Prisoner for Debt, The," 104. 

Proctor, Edna Dean, letters to, 605, 
611, 622, 628, 690, G91. 

" Proem," 698. 

" Providence Journal," 124. 

Putnam, Rev. Mr., 152. 

Putnam, Nathaniel, G06. 

Quaker grammar, 282. 
'•'■ Quakers are Out, The,** 432. 
Quantrell, Mary, 467. 
Quincy, Edmund, 405, 666. 

" Rabbi Ishmael," written to free his 

mind, 668. 
Ramsay, Allan, 350. 
Randolph, John, 129, 130. 
" Randolph of Roanoke," 130, 325. 
" Rangers, The,** 643. 
Rantoul, Robert, Jr., 142, 188, 193 ; 

appealed to by W., 200, 285, 358 ; 

death of, 365. 



Rantoul, Bobert 8., letter to, 629. 
** Red River Voyageur, The," 419 ; 

origin of poem, 420 ; 757. 
Reed, G. C, asks for ode to Gordon, 

705 ; W.'s reply, 705-707. 
Religious faith of W., 263-265, 280, 

281, 485, 567, 625, 628, 629, 632, 633, 

651, 683, 684, 709, 723. 
*< Response," 635, 636. 
" Revelation," 717. 
Rice, Brig. Gen., 476. 
Rice, Charles B., 634. 
Rich, Hiram, 634. 
*' Richmond JefFersonian," 128. 
Ricketson, Daniel, letter to, 721. 
Ritner, Joseph, 196, 236, 253. 
" River Path, The," 661. 
Roads, Samuel, Jr., 409. 
Rochemont de Poyen, Joseph, 454. 
Rocks village, 6, 38, 412, 543. 
*' Rock Tomb of Bradore, The," origin 

of poem, 689. 
Rogers, Elisha, 473. 
Rogers, Ellen, 378. 
Rogers, Mary P., letter to, 675. 
Rogers, N. P., 149, 155, 272, 312, 339, 

378, 663, 744. . 
Rolfe, Henry, 4. 
Rolfe, John, 1. 
Rous, John, 779, 782. 
Rupert, Prince, 781. 
RusB, Judge, 86. 
Russell, Thomas, 585. 
Rynders, Isaiah, 307. 

Salter, WiUiam, 776. 


Saltonstall, Richard, 400, 401. 

Sanborn, Garter & Bazin, 391, 392. 

Sankey, Ira David, 628. 

Sargent, John O., 756. 

" Saturday Evening Post," 63. 

Saxton, WiUard, 473. 

Schultz, John, letters to, 710, 758. 

Schurz, Garl, 630. 

Scott, Thomas, 159. 

Scudder, Horace £., 635. 

*' Sea Dream, A," 594. 

*< Seeking of the Waterfall, The," 623, 

Selmar, Marion Pearl, 610. 

Sewall, Samuel Edmund, assists W., 
133, 207, 292, 353, 602; hiscrip- 
tion for bust of, 692 ; letters to, 287, 

Seward, Wm. H., 364, 432 ; message 
to, 435. 

Shattuck, Samuel, 658, 783. 

Shaw, Robert G., 623. 

Sherman, William T., 492. 

Shipley, Thomas, 216. 

Shurtleff, W. S., 634. 

Sigoumey, Lydia H., 86, 87, 116 ; let- 
ters to, 99, 112. 

Sims, Thomas, 356. 

** supper Ireson's Ride,** 406-411, 

SUnghter, H. H., 268. 

Smith, Garrie, 575. 

Smith, Elizabeth Oakes, 481. 

Smith, Gerrit, 206, 207, 232, 309 ; let- 
ter to, 310. 

Smith, Wm. A., 375. 

Smith, Wm. H., 128. 

" Snow-Bound," 27, 29, 30, 34, IGO, 
404, 494-504 ; changes in proof- 
sheets, 495-499 ; 501, 504, 514, 530, 
704, 753, 771. 

" Song of the Vermonters," 67-70, 

" Songs of Labor," 297, 348-350. 

*' Songs of Three Genturies," Gil, 624. 

" Sound the Trumpet," 385, 387. 

Southworth, Emma D. E. N., 344, 
454-156 ; letter to, 456. 

Sparhawk, Frances C., letter to, 668. 

SpofFord, Jeremiah, 192 ; letters to, 

Sprague, Peleg, 197. 

Stamiatiades, Mr., 115. 

Standring, James, 558. 

Stanton, Henry B., mobbed in New- 
buryport, IM; 182, 205, 207, 24a 
244, 245, 249-261 ; visits Gettysburg 
with W., 250. 

Steams, Georae L., tribute to, 467, 
491, 626 ; letter to, 492. 

Stearns, Mrs. (George L. , letter to, 601. 

Stedman, E. C., 634, 771 ; letters to, 

Steiner, Lewis Henrv, 468. 

Stevens, Thaddeus, 232. 

" St. Gregory's Guest," 717. 

** St. Martinis Summer," 669. 

" St. Nicholas," 718. 

Stoddard, R. H., 635, 636. 

" Storm on Lake Asquam," 680. 

Stowe, Mrs. H. B., 403, 405, 419; 
criticism of, 419 ; 539, 634. 

Story, William Wetmore, 636. 

" Stranger m LoweU, The," 305. 

Strickland, Rev. Mr., 304. 

Stuart, Gharles, 209. 

Sturge, Joseph, 205, 220 ; accom- 
panied by W. in his travels, 267- 
274 ; offers purse to W., 271 ; let- 
ter to, 272 ; 312, 336, 404, 423, 648. 

Sturtevant farm, 694, 711, 714. 

Sullivan, Miss, 750. 

" Summons, The," 431. 

'' Simset on the Bearcamp," 623, 647. 

"Sweet Fern," 717. 

Swinburne, Algernon G., 660. 

Swing, David, 656. 

" Sycamores, The," 397-402, 409. 

Tach^, Archbishop, 758. 

Tallant, Garolme L. , letters from, 397, 

400; letter to, 399. 
Tallant, Hugh, 397, 398. 402, 409. 
Tappan, Arthur, 128, 205, 207, 569, 
. 670, 653. 
Tappan, Lewis, 124, 206, 207, 271, 

280, 282, 404 ; letters to, 336, 569. 



Taylor, Bayard, 826 ; thank* W. for 
notice of poem, 826 ; 368 ; yiilta W.. 
361 ; welcomed home, 866 ; called 
upon for lecture, 419 ; writes Cen- 
tennial ode, 616 ; aaks W. to write 
hymn, 617; allows W. to take two 
of hia lines, 618, 619; 622, 634; sent 
to Berlin, 644; 660; letters to, 866, 
419, 429, 479, 608, 641, 672, 618,620, 
646 ; letters from, 860, 614, 617, 618, 

Taylor, James W., 767. 

Tavlor, Marie, 429, 479, 608, 619, 

Taylor, Zaehary, 831. 

Teachers of Freedmen, letter to, 680. 

'' Telling the Bees," 406, 413-416, 646. 

Tennyson, Alfred, 428, 614, 677, 706 ; 
letter from, 707. 

" Tent on the Beach, The,'* first sug- 
gested, 606-627 ; success of, 612. 

•'Texas: Voice of New Ez^land," 
297 ; chanses in poem, 299-»)l. i 

Thaxter, CSeiUa, reminiscences of W., 
620, 639;^dbum verses, 641, 649, 
664 ; introduction to '"Lsrs," 689; 
634 ; letters to, 619, 624, 632, 634, 
642, 666, 666, 667, 678, 689, 696, 
600, 613, 666 ; letter from, 620. 

Thayer, AbiJah W., 63; urges W. to 
go to Academy . 63 ; his temperance 
work, 67 ; W. boards in his family, 
67, 68 ; proposes to publish W.'s 
poems, 61 ; <S, 163, 167, 168, 174. 221, 
244, 436 ; letters to, 67, 66, 70, 76, 
166, 167, 184, 187, 199. 

Thayer, Mrs. A. W., 68, 66. 

Thayer, James B., 67. 

Thayer, Sarah 8., 66. 

Thayer, W. 8., letter to, 436. 

Thomas, Bey. Mr., 160, 161. 

Thompson, Geoive, 140 ; mobbed, 141, 
143-164 ; hi hiding at W. home- 
stead, 146-148; in Concord mob, 
149-154; 239, 311, 813, 653, 676. 

Tboreau, Henry Darid, criticism of, 

. 869,721. 

Thurston, David, 134, 136. 

Ticknor k Fields, 8^, 498. 

Ticknor, Wm. D., 293. 

TUden, 6amuelJ.,628. 

Tillotson, John, 781. 

Timrod, Henry, 602. 

** To aPoeti<»i Trio," 106, 167. 

Todd, Eli, 86, 103. 

*' To John C. Fremont,** 462. 

Toombs, Robert, 875. 

Torrey, Charles T., 810. 
' Townsend, J. R., letter to, 682. 

Trowbridge, John, 635. 

Trowbridge, J. T., 43, 406, 636, 711. 

Trumbull, Joseph, 86. 

Tuck, Amos, 821. 

Tuckerman, H. T., 276. 

*' Two Elizabeths, The," 717. 

" Two Rabbhis, The," 631. 

Tyler, John, 269, 273. 

Underground railroad, 224. 
Underwood, F. H., 343, 404-406, 409, 

411, 423, 636, 726; letters to, 415, 

417, 420, 436. 
UpsaU, Nicholas, 779. 

Van Buren, John, 332, 334. 

Van Buren, Martin, 170, 198, 287, 243, 

332, 333, 334, 335, 839. 
Vane, Henry, 779, 781. 
" Vaniahers, llie,^> 480, 481 ; origin of 

poem, 481. 
" Vandois Teacher, The," 606-609. 
Vipart, Count, 463. 
*' Vision of Echard, The," 647. 
'* Voices of Freedom," 131, 378. 
" Vow of Washington, The," 740. 
" Voyage of the ^ttie," 623, 647, 672. 

Waite, Morrison R., 727. 

Walker, Amasa, 246. 

Walsh, Robert, 362. 

Ward, Nathaniel, 726. 

Ward, William Haves, letter to, 648. 


Warner, Charles Dudley, 636, 667. 

Washburn, Israel, Jr., 634. 

Washburn, William B., 684. 

Washington, Oeorge, 197. 

Wason/Mrs. Jettie (Morrill), 647. 

Waterston, Robert C, 489. 

Weare, Meahech, 761. 

Webb, M. E., 876. 

,Webb, Samuel, 228. 

Webster, Daniel, 12, 76, 119, 161, 164, 

170, 175, 193, 285, 327, 361, 726. 
Webster, Esekiel, 161. 
Weiss, John, 636. 
Weitsel, Godfrey, 492. 
Weld, Elias, 38, 442. 
Weld, Theodore D., 206 ; his marriage, 

236; 649,696. 
Welles, Gideon, 94, 444. 
Welles, Martin, 86. 
Wendell, Ann E., reminiscences of 

W., 219; letters to, 267, 261,266, 

277. 278, 279, 818. 
Wendell, Margaret, 219. 221, 228, 278. 
Wetmore, PrMper IL, 88. 
Wharton, Edward, 780. 
*' What of the Day," prophetic stansa, 

"What Bute Street said to South 

Carolina," 867. 
Wheeler, Daniel, 267. 
Wheelwright. John, 777, 779. 
Whipple, Edwin P., 367, 406, 636» 

Whitman, Walt, 728. 

Whitney, Anne, 692. 

Whittier homestead, ito isolation, 6; 
buildings, 18, 21 ; 187, 606, 786. 

Whittier, AUgaU (Hussey), 9, 10 ; per- 
sonal traits, 28; death, 412; 617- 

Whittier, Charles F., 82. 

Whittier, Elisabeth Huss^, 9; peiw 



aonal traiU, 29, 3t ; 96, 143 ; extracts 
from diary, 144-147, 148, 153, 162 ; 
contributes to "North Star," 223; 
244, 248, 249, 264, 316, 370, 383, 387, 
419, 427, 429, 437, 463, 472, 477- 
479; death of, 480; 482, 483, 502; 
letters to, 206, 207, 240, 255, 309; 
letter from, 273. 

Whittier, John, bought oat other 
heirs, 8 ; married, 8, 14 ; 16 ; select- 
man, 27 ; trips to Canada, 27, 50, 

Whittier, John Oreenleaf, birth and 
genealogy, 1-8; childhood,. 21, 22, 
26, 38, 693; In district school, 41 ; 
declines to leam catechism, 43; 
visits Boston, 44; first yerses, 45- 
50; buys Shakespeare, 45; begins 
diary, 47; first sees himself in 
print, 50; Garrison's visit, 62; 
slipper-making, 64; at Academy, 
55, 59 ; his pseudonyms, 56 ; nu- 
merous early poems, 56, 81 ; work 
on "History of Haverhill," 62; 
teaches school, 64 ; poets ledgers, 
67 ; reasons for not going to college, 
70-72; edits "Manufacturer," 73- 
78 ; discusses tariff, 73 ; interest in 
protective system, 75, 114; praise 
of Garrison, 76 ; writes a sermon, 
76 ; first meets Sumner, 77 ; writes 
for Prentice, 79 ; early comments 
on his poetry, 80 ; edits " Haver- 
hiU Gazette,'^' 79, 156, 192 ; edits 
" N. E. Review," 81-92 ; social life 
in Hartford, 87 ; among New York 
editors, 85 ; mystery of first visit to 
New York, 87-89; publishes "N. 
E. Legends," 92; suppresses early 
work, 92, 93 ; phases of tender pas- 
sion in poems, 93 ; delegate to na- 
tional convention, 97 ; plans re- 
moval to Cincinnati, 100, 165, 307 ; 
attempts a novel, 101 ; his political 
ambition, 118, 119; enters upon 
anti-slavery work, 122-131 ; writes 
" Justice and Expediency," 123 ; it 
Interferes with his political ambi- 
tion, 125, 163 ; asks Gushing to re- 
view his pamphlet, 126; tribute 
to Randolph, 129; marked change 
in his poetry, 131 ; answers Garri- 
son's caU, 132 ; attends Philadelphia 
convention. 134 ; appeals to Chan- 
ning, 137 ; in Maiasachusetts legisla- 
ture, 142 ; in mobs, 149-154 ; dread 
of personal indignity, 156 ; call to 
Portland, 166, 207 ; invited to Penn- 
sylvania, 157 ; removal to Ames- 
bury, 158-162; works for Congres- 
sional nomination, 168, 169 ; ques- 
tions candidates, 171; works for 
Gushing, 181-184 ; skill in politics, 
186 ; genius for coalitions, 188 ; as 
lobbyist, 191, 199, 200; reply to 
Everett's inaugural, 196-198; ap- 
peal to Rantom, 200 ; residence m 

New York, 205; edito letters of J. 
Q. Adams, 208 ; edits " Freeman," 
215 ; first volume of poems, 214 ; 
life in Phihkdelphia, 215-2U ; second 
volume of poems, 239; at Saratoga, 
246; visits Gettysburg, 250; in 
Washington, 253, 269, 328; hunts 
slaves m Amesbury woods, 260; 
personal traits, 304, 461, 551-556 ; 
makes a speech, 309; his wide 
charity, 358; delight in books of 
travel, 359 ; travels with Joseph 
Sturge, 267-270; why never mar- 
ried, 276 ; adheres to Quaker cus- 
toms, 282; nominated for Congress, 
284; edits "Middlesex Stan&rd," 
and " Essex Transcript," 303 ; con- 
tributes to "National Era," 324- 
329 ; promotes election of Sumner, 
351-358 ; Fremont campaign, 384- 
389; Lincoln campaign, 431-436; 
attitude during war, 4^-489 ; writes 
" Snow-Bound," 494-505; corre- 
spondence with Sumner, 308, 329- 
333, 351-357, 361-369, 381, 413, 425- 
428, 432-434, 449, 471; sources 
of income, 404; assists in starting 
"Atlantic Monthly," 406; death 
of his mother, 412, 413 ; receives 
coll^^iate honors, 414; interest in 
Italian Uberty, 424; address to 
Friends, 441; his pets, 23-26, 
460, 614-517 ; habit of self-restrahit, 
552 ; nature of his illness, 552^664 ; 
color-blindness, 654, 713 ; deafness, 
555 ; kindness to servants, 557 ; as 
neighbor and friend, 657-661 ; edits 
" Woohnan's Journal," 674, 713 ; 
edits " Chad Life." in poetry and 
prose, 674 ; struck down by light- 
ning, 581 ; the Sumner censure, 6iB3- 
587 ; commissioned to write Sumner 
ode, 688; prefers quiet meetings, 
692, 694; gets $1000 from "Mabel 
Martin," 600; publishes "Hazel 
Blossoms," 610 ; compUes " Songs 
of Three Centuries," 611 ; called 
upon for Centennial hymn, 612; 
asked to write Centennial ode, 616 ; 
uses two lines of Taylor's hymn, 
619; interview with Dom Pedro, 
621 ; his summer haunts, 623, 669- 
672, 680, 687, 693-697, 714, 747, 761 ; 
70th birthday, 634-639 ; opinion of 
spiritualism, 651, 677, 709; as a 
traveler, 670; favors co-education 
of sexes, 673 ; his hymns sung in 
churches, 684 ; publishes " Bay of 
Seven Islands,'' 689; burden of 
correspondence, 700; his benefac- 
tions, 701 ; the calls for autographs, 
701 ; criticized by John Bright, 706 ; 
voice in readmg, 710, 711 ; Califor- 
nia town named for him, 722 ; 80th 
birthday, 725-728; revision of 
works in 1888, 738 ; personal traits, 
745, 746; last birthday, 763-760; 



mauwM rt Hampton lUls, 760; 

iMt iUMM, 766-768 ; funeral aer- 

▼ioM, 770 ; anecdotes of, 24-27, 28, 

63, 156, 191, 281, 437, 438, 477, 478, 

615-619, 660, 661, 638, 766. 
Whittier, Joaeph, Ist, 6, 8, 9, 48. 
Whittier, Joaeph, 2d, 8, 9, 14, 48. 
Whittier, Mary (OaldweU), 9, 29, 49 ; 

aenda W.*4 poem to Ghurriaon, 60, 

Whittier, Matthew F., 9, 22. 31 ; hia 

family, 32 ; letter to, 291, 434, 454, 

Whittier, Moaea, 8, 16, 21 ; peraonal 

tndta, 32 ; 771. 
Whittier, OtMdiah, 8, 614. 
Whittier, Ruth (Green), emigratea, 1 ; 

death, 8. 
Whittier, Thomaa, emigratea, 1 ; re- 

f naea to retract petition, 3 ; deputy 

to General Court, 4 ; 6, 9, 10, 14, 16, 

16, 18. 
Wilkea, Charlea, 444. 
Willard, Francea E., letter to, 762. 
WiUiama, Samuel W., 708. 
Williamaon*a «' Hiatory of Maine,** 

Willia, N. P., 106. 

Wilaon, Deborah, 778. 

Wilaon, Henry, 328, 332, 362, 434. 449. 

Winalow, Nathan, 292. 

Winalow, William C, letter to, 691. 

Winthrop, John, 11. 

Wlnthrop, John, Jr., 777. 

Winthrop, Robert C, 362, 374, 727. 

*' Witch of Wenham, The," 628, 644, 

"Witch'a Daughter, The," 408, 596. 

See "Mabel Martin." 
Withington, Leonard, 281, 346. 
Wolaeley, €toi., 708. 
Woman anffrage, 380, 636, 677, 678. 
" Wood Giant, The," 694, 711, 717. 
Woodman, Abby J., 614, 616. 
Wordaell, Edward, letter to, 723. 
'* Worahip of Nature, The," 608. 
"Wreck of Rivermouth, The," 12, 

610. 530, 534, 543, 764. 
Wright, Edward, 660. 
Wright, Elisnr, 206, 206, 602. 
Wright, Henry C, 278. 

•• Yankee, The," 106. 

Zagonyi, Col., 400, 464, 46f(. 

St. Dunstans House, Fetter Lane, 

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Antilles, 2s. 6d. 
BUNYAN. See Low's Stan- 
dard Series. 

field Stud, 55. 
— Baroness, Woman's Mis- 

sion, Congress papers, 109. 6(2, 

In all Departments of Literature. 

BURNABY, Evelyn, i?4c?e/roffi 

Land* s End to John o* OroatSyBs.Qd. 

Mrs., High Alps in Win- 
ter ^ lis, 

BURNLEY, James, History of 

Wool and Wool-comhingj 2l6. 

BUTLER, Col. Sir W. F., 

Campaign of the Cataracts^ 18y. 

See also Low's Standard 


BUXTON, Etuel M. Wilmot, 
Wee Folk, 55. 

BYNNER. See Low's Stan- 
dard Novels. 

CABLE, G. W.jBonaventure, 5s, 

CADOGAN, Ladx Adelaide, 

Drawing-room Comedies , illast. 

10s. 6d., acting edit. 6d. 
IlltistTated Games of 

Patience, col. diagramp, 12s. 6d. 
New Games of Patience, 

with coloxired diagrams, 12s. 6(i. 
CAHUN. See Low's Standard 

CALDECOTT, Randolph, 

Memoity by Henry Blackburn, 

new edit. 7s. 6d. and 5s. 

Sketches^ pict. bds. 2s. 6c?. 

CALL, Annie Patson, Power 

through Repose, 3s. 6d, 
CALLAN, H., M.A., Wander- 
ings on Wheel and Foot through 

Europe, Is. 6d. 
CALVERT, Edward (artist), 

Memoir and Writings, imp. 4to, 

63s. nett. 
CamMdge Trifle, 2s. 6d, 
Camhridge Staircase, 2«. Qd, 
CAMPBELL, Lady Cown, 

BooJc of the Running Brook, 5s. 

T. See Choice Editions. 

CANTERBURY, Archbishop. 
See Preachers. 

Capitals of the World, plates 
and text, 2 vols., 4to, half mo- 
rocco, gilt edges, 63s. nett. 

s, Is. ") J J 
8, la. ) 

CARBUTT, Mrs., Five Months 

Fine Weather; Canada, U.S. and 
Mexico, 5s. 

CARLETON, Will, City 

Ballads, illust. 12s. 6d. 

City Legends, ilL 12^. 6f?. 

Farm Festivals, ill, 12^. 6d, 

City Ballads, 1 s. ' 

City Legends, 

City Festivals, 

Farm Ballads, Is, 

Farm Festivals, 

Farm Legends, 

Poems, 6 vols, in case, Ss, 

See also Rose Library. 

CARNEGIE, Andrew, Ameri- 
can Four-in-hand in Britain, 
lOs. 6d. ; also Is. 

Triumphant Democracy, 

68. ; new edit. Is. 6d. ; paper, Is. 

CAROVE, Story without an 

End, illust. by E. V. B., 7s. 6d. 
CARPENTER. See Preachers. 

CAVE, Picturesque Ceylon, 
21s. nett. 

Celebrated BaceJiorses, fac-sim, 
portraits, 4 vols., 126s. 

CELlilRE. See Low's Stan- 

dard Books. 
CJianged Cross, &c.^ poems, 2s. 6^?. 
Chant-hook Companion to tJie 

Common Prayer, 2s. ; organ ed. 4s. 
CHAPIN, Mountaineering in 

Colorado, lOs. 6d. 
CHAPLIN, J. G., Bookkeeping, 

is. Qd, 

CHARLES, J. T. See Play. 

time Library. 

CH ATTOCK,iVb^ea on Etching^ 
new edit. lOs. 6(i. 

CHENEY, A. 1^,, Fishing icith 
the Fly, 12s. 6d, 

A Select List of Books 


1 Mnsicians. 


f yard Series. 

Choice Edilions of choice hool'Sy 
illustrated by Cope, Creswick, 
Blrket Foster, Horsley, Harrison 
Weir, &c., cloth extra gilt, gilt 
edges, 2s. 6d. each ; re-issno^ Is. 

Bloomfield*B Farmer's Boy. 

Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. 

Coleridge's Ancient Mariner. 

Elizabethan Songs and Sonnets. 

Goldsmith's Deserted Village. 

Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield. 

Gray's Elegy in a Charohyard. 

Keats' Eve of St Agnes. . 

Milton's Allegro. 

Poetry of Nature, by H. Weir, 

Sogers' Pleasures of Memory. 

Shakespeare's Songs and Sonnets. 

Tennyson's May Queen. 

Wordsworth's Pastoral Poems. 

CHURCH, W. C, Life of 

i Ericsson, new ed., 16«. 

DOtPH, Men, Mines and A/nimals 
in South Africa, 21s. ; new ed. 6s, 

CLARK, Mrs. K. M., Southern 
Cross Fairy Tale, 5s. 

Persephone and other 

Toems, 5s. 

CLARKE, C. C, Recollections 

i^f Writers, with Letters, 10^. Gd. 
Percy, Three Diggers, 6s. 

— Valley Council; from T. 
Bateman's Journal, Gs. 

Claude le Lorrain. See Great 

Artists. , 
COCHRAN, W., Fen and 

Pencil in Asia Minor, 21s. 
COLERIDGE, S.T. SeeChoice 
' Editions and Bayard Series. 

Low's Standard Books. 
COLLYER, Robert, Things 

Oid and New, Sermons, 6s. 

CONDER, J,,Flowers of Japan 

and Decoration, coloured Plates, 

42s. nett. 
Landscape Gardening in 

Japan, 528.6d. nett. j supplement. 

86s. nett. 

to the Stock Exchange, 2s. 


COWEN, Joseph, M.P., Life 

and Speeches, 14s. 
COWLEY. See Bayard Series. 
COX, David. See Great Artists. 

J. Charles, Gardens of 

Scripture; Meditations, 5s. 

COZZENS, F., American 
Yachts, pf s. 21Z. ; art. pfs. 31Z. 10s. 

S. W. See Low's Stan- 

dard Books. 

CRADDOCK. See Low's 

Standard Nords. 
CRAIK, D., Millwright and 

Miller, 21s. 
CROCKER, Education of the 

Horse, 8s. 6d. net*. 
CROKER, Mrs. B. M. See 

Low's Standard Novels. 
CROSLAND, Mrs. Newton, 

Landmarks of a Literary Life, 

7s. ed, 
CROUCH, A. P., Glimpses of 

Feverland (West Africa), 6s. 
On a Surf-hound Coaot^ 

7s. 6d. ; new edit. 5s, 

Great Artists. 
CUDWORTH, W., Abraham 

Sharp, Mathematician, 26s. 

See Low's Standard Noyels. 
CUNDALL, J., Shakespeare^ 

8s. 6(2., 5s. and 2s. 
CURTIS, C. B., Velazquez and 
j Murillo, with etchings, 31s. Cci. | 
I large paper, 63s. < « 

In all Departments of Literattire, 

CURTIS, W. E., Qa^itaU of I 
Spanish America, ISs. I 

GUSHING, W., Anonyms, 2 
yqIs. 52s. 6d. 

W., Initials and Pscu- 

donyms, 25s. ; ser. II., 2 Is. 

Fishing y now edit^Ss. 6d. 

DALY, Mrs. Dominic, Digging, 

Squatting in N. S. Australiaf 125. 

DANTE, Text-book in Four 
Languages, ilium, cover, 5s. nett. 

D'ANVERS, N., Architeciure 

and Sculpiurs, new edit. 5s. 
Elementary Art, Arclii- 

feature, Sculpture, Painting, new 

edit. 12s. and 10s. 6d. 
Fainting, new ed. by F. 

Gnndall, 6s. 
DAUDET, Alphonsb, Port 

Tarascon, by H. James, 7s. 6d. ; 

also 5s. and 3s. 6c7. 
'DAYlKS,C.,Modern WJiist, is. 

DAVIS, C. T» Manufacture of 

Leather, 52s. Gd. 

Manufacture of Paper, 2Ss. 

Manvfaciure of Bricks, 268. 

Steam Boiler Incrustation, 

8s. Gd. 

G. B., International Law, 

10s. 6d. 
DAWIDOWSKY, Glue, Gela- 

tino. Veneer F, Cements, 12s. 6d. 

Day of my Life, by an Eton boy, 
new edit. 2s. Cd. ; also Is. 

Days in Clover, by the " Ama- 
teur Angler," Is. ; illust., 2s. 6d. 


Denmark and Iceland, See 
Foreign Conn tries. 

DENNETT, R. E., Seven Yean 

among the Fjort, 7s. 6d. 
DERRY (B. of). See Preachers. 
DE WINT. See Great Artists. 

DIGGLE, J. W., Bishop Fra* 

ser*8 Lancashire Life, new edit. 
12s. 6i. J popular ed, 3*. 6c?. 
Sermons for Daily Life, 69. 

DIRUF, 0., Kissingen, 5s. and 
3s. 6(1. 

DOBSON, Austin, Hogarth, 
with ft bibliography, Ac, of 
prints, illaBt.24s.; l.paper 52s. 6i2.; 
new ed. 12s. 6d. 

^ See also Great Artists. 

DOD, Peerage, Baronetage, 
and Knightage, for 1894, 10*. 6d. 

DODGE, Mrs., Hans Drinker. 
See Low's Standard Books. 

Doing and Suffering ; memo- 
rials ofE. and F. Bickersteth, new 
ed., 2s. ed. 

DONKIN, J. G., Trooper and 
Bedskin ; Canada police, 8s. 6c2. 

DONNELLY, Ignatius, ^«aw- 
iis, the Antediluvian World, new 
edit. 12s. 6d. 

(7<aB«ar'« (7(9 Zttmn, authorised 

edition, Ss. 6d. 

Doctor Huguet, 3«. 6^. 

Great Cryptogram, Bacon's 

Cipher in the so-oalled Shak- 
spere Plays, 2 vols., 30s. 

Ragnaroh : the Age of 

Fire and Gravel, 12s. Gd. 
DORE, GusTAVB, Life and Re- 
miniscences, by Blanche Boose- 
velt, fully illust. '24s. 

DOS PASSOS, J. R., Law of 

Stockbrokers and Exchanges, 35s. 

DOUGALL, J. D., Shooting 
Appliances, Practice, n. ed. 7s. 6d. 

DOUGLAS, James, Bombay 

and Western India, 2 vols., 42s, 

DU CHAILLU. Paul. See 

Low*8 standard Books. 
DUFFY, Sir C. G., Conversa- 

tions with Carlyle, 6s. 


A Select List of Books 

DUNCKLEY ("Verax.") See 

Prime Ministers. 

Prairie and Bush, 6s, 
DUrer, See Great Artists. 
DYKES, J.Osw. See Preachers. 

EBERS, G., PerAspera, 2 vols., 

2ls.', new ed., 2 vols., 45. 
Echoes from iJie Hearty 3«. ^d. 
EDEN, C. II. See For. Countries. 

EDMONDS, C., Poetry of tJie 
Anti-Jacolirit new edit. 7s, 6(2. ; 
large paper, 2l8, 

EDWARDS, American Steam 

Engineer y 12s. Qd, 

Modem Locomotive En- 
gines, 12s, 6d. 

Steam Engineer'i Guide, 

128. fid. 

H. S. See Great Musicians. 

M. B., Dream of Millions^ 

Sf'c, Is. 

See also Low's Standard 


EDWORDS. Camp Fires of a 
Naiwralift, N, Am, Mammals^ 6s. 

EGGLESTON, G. Cart, Jug^ 

gernaut, 6*. 
Egypt, See Foreign Countries. 
Elizabethan Songs. See Choice 

EMERSON,Dr. p. H., English 

Idylls, new ed., 2s, 
— — Naturalistic Photography ^ 

new edit. 6s, 

— Pictures of East Anglian 
Life ; plates and vignettes, 105s.; 
large paper, 147s. 

Son of the Fens, 6^. 

— See also Low's \s. Novels. 
. and GOOD ALL, Life on 

the Norfolk Broads, plates, 126s. ; 
large paper, 2108. 

and GOOD ALL, Wild 

Life on a TiJal Water, copper 

plates, ori, edit. 25s. ; 4dit, de 
luxe, 6Ss. 
EMERSON*, Ralph Waldo, 

In Concord, a memoir by E. W. 

Emerson, 7s. 6d. 
English Catalogue, 1863-71, 

42s.; 1872.80, 42s.; 1881-9, 

62s. 6d.; 1890-93, 6s. 
English Catalogue, Index vol, 

1837-56, 26s.; 1856-76, 42s.; 

1874-80, 18s.; 1831-89, 31s. 6cZ. 
English Philosophers, edited by 

E. B. Ivan Miiller, 3s. 6d, each. 
Bacon, by Fowler. 
Hamilton, by Monck. 
Hartley and James Mill, by Bower. 
Shaf tesbnry & Hntcheson ; Fowler. 
Adam Smith, by J. A. Farrer. 
English Readers, See Low. 


See Low's Standard Books. 
ESLER, E. Rbntoul, The Way 

they Loved at Grimpat, Ss. 6(2. 
ESMARCH, F., Handbook of 

Surgery, with 647 new illast. 24«. 
Essays on English Writers. 

See Gentle Life Series. 

EVANS, G. E., Repentance of 

Magdalene Despar, Sfc, poems, 5s. 

S. & F., Upper Ten, a 

story y Is. 
W. E., Songs of the Birds, 

Analogies of Spiritual Life, 6s, 

EVELYN. See Low's Stand. 

— — John, Life of Mrs. Godol- 

phin, 7s. 6d, 
EVES, C. W., West Indies, 

n. ed. 7s. 6d, 
FAGAN, L., History of En- 

graving in England, illast. from 
rare prints, £25 nett. 

FAIRBAIRN. See Preachers. 
Faith and Criticism; Essays 
by Congregationalists, 6s, 

In all Departments of Literature. 

Familiar Words. See Gentle 

Life Series. 
FARINI, G. A., Through the 

Kalahari Desert, 21s. 
FAWCETT, Heir to Millions, 

— See also Rose Library. 
PAy, T., Three Germanys, 2 

vols. 35.9. 
FEELDEN, H. St. J., Some 

Public Schools, 28. 6(2. 

Mrs., My African Hornet 
78. 6d. 
FENN, G. Manville. BlacJc 
Bar, ill net. Ss. 

— Fire Island, Gs. 

See also Low's Stand. Bks. 

FFORDE, B., Subaltern, Police^ 
man, and the Little Girl, Is. 

— Trottsr, a Poona Mystery, 

FIELDS, James T., Memoirs, 
12s. Gd. 

— Yesterdays loith Authors, 

16s. ; also 10^. 6<i. 
Figure Painters of Holland. 

See Great Artists. 
FINCK, Henry T., Pacifc 

Coast Scenic Tour, fine pi. 10s. 6d, 
FISHER, G. P., Colonial Era 

in America, 7s. Gd, 

FITZGERALD. See Foreign 

— Perot, Book Fancier, 58, ; 
large paper, 12s. Gd, 


Cruise in ihe JSgean, 10s. Gd. 

Transatldntic Holiday, 

10s. ed, 

FLEMING, S., England and 

Canada, 6s. 
Fly Fisher's Register of Date, 

Place, Time Occupied, Flies Ob' 

served, wind,, weather, ^c, 4s. 
FOLKARD, K., Plant Lore, 

Legends and Lyrics, n. ed., 10s. Gd, 

Foreign Countries and British 
Colonies, descriptive handbooks 
edited by F. S. Palling, 3s. Gd. 

Australia, by Fitzgerald. 

Austria-Hangary, by Kay. 

Denmark and Iceland, by E. C. Ott(f. 

Egypt, by S. L. Poole. 

France, by Miss Roberts'. 

Germany, by S. Baring Gonld. 

Greece, by L. Sergeant. 

Japan, by Mossman. 

Pern, by Clements E. Markbam. 

Russia, by Morfill. 

Spain, by Webster. 

Sweden and Norway, by Woods. 

West Indies, by 0. H. Eden. 

FOREMAN", J., Philippine 

Islands, 21s. 

DEL SARTO. See Great Artists. 

FRANC, Maud Jeanne, Beat- 
rice Melton, 4s. 

Emily's Clioice, n. ed. 5s, 

Golden Gifts, 4:S. 

HalVs Vineyard, 4j. 

Into the Light, is, 

JohrCs Wife, is. 

— ^— Little Mercy ; for better ^ 
for worse, is. 

Marian, a Tale, n. ed. 5s, 

— Master of Ralston, is. 

— ^ Minnie's Mission, a Tem- 
perance Tale, is. 

No longer a Child, is. 

Silken Cards, a Tale, 4^. 

Two Sides to Every Ques^ 

tion, 4s. 

Vermont Vale, 5s. ^ 

A plainer edition is issued at 2s. Gd. 

France, See Foreign Countries. 

Frank's Ranche ; or, My Holi- 
day in the Rockies, n. ed. 5s. 

ERASER, Sir W. A., Hie et 
uHque, 3s. Gd. ; large paper, 21s. 


A Select List of Books 

FREEMAN, J., Melbourne Life, 

lights and shadowSt 6s. 
French and English lUithday 

Booh, by Kato D. Clark, 75. 6i. 
French Readers, See Low. 

Fresh Woods and Pastures Neto, 
bj the Amateur Aogler, bs,, 
Is. 6d , Is. 

FRIEZE, Dupi'e, Florentine 

Sculptor, 7s. Qd. 
FRISWELL. See Gentle Life. 
Froissart for Boys. See Lanier. 
FROUDE, J. A. See Prime 

Gainsborough and Constable. 

See Great Artists. 
GARLAND, Hamlin, Prairie 

Folks, 6s. 

GASPARIN, Sunny Fields and 

Shady Woods, 6s. 

GETFCKEN, British Emj^ire, 
translated, 7s. 6d. 

Gentle Life Series, edited by J. 
Hain Friswell, sm. 8yo, 6s. per 
Tol.; calf extra, 10s. 6d. ea.; 16mo, 
28. 6d., except when price is giren. 

Gentle Life. 

About in the World. 

Like nnto Christ. 

Familiar Words, 6s. ; also 8s. C<Z. 

Montaigne's Essays. 

Gentle Life, second seiios. 

Silent boar ; essays. 

Half-length Portraits. 

Essays on English Writers. 

O ther People's Windows, 6s. & 2s. 6d. 

A Man's Thoaghts. 

Germany. See For. Countries. 
GESSI, RoMOLO Pasha, Seven 
Years in the Soudan, 18s. 

See Great Artists. 

GIBBS, W. A., Idylls of the 
'Queen, Is., 6s., & Ss. ; Prolndo, Is. 

GIBSON, W. H., Happj Hunt- 
in j Grounds, 31s. CtZ. 

GILES, E., Australia Twice 
Traversed, 1872-76, 2 vols. 30*. 

GILL, J. See Low's Readers. 

GILLIAT. See Low's Stand. 

Giotto, by Harry Quilter, illiist. 

See also Great Artists. 


GLAVE, E. J., Congoland, 

Six Yean* Adventure, 7s. 6(2. 
Goethe* s Faust us, in the original 

rhyme, by Alfred H. Hnth, 5i. 
Prosa, by 0. A. Bucbheini 

(Low's German Series), 3s. 6<Z. 

GOLDSMITH, 0., She Stoops 
to Conquer, by Austin Dobson, 
illast. by E. A. Abbey, 81s. 

See also Choice Editions. 

GOOCH, Fanny C., Face to 
Face with the Mexicans, 16s. 

GOODMAN, E. J., TJie Best 
four in Norway, new edit., 7s. 6d, 

GOODYEAR, W. H., Grammar 
of the Lotus, Ornament and Sun 
Worship, 63s. nett. 

GORDON, E. A., Clear Bound, 

Story from other Countries, 7s. 6i. 
J. E. H., Physical Treatise 

on Slectricity and Magnetism, 3rd ' 

ed. 2 vols. 42s. 

Electric Lighting, 18«. 

School Electricity, 6s. 

Mrs. J. E. H., Decorative 

Electricity, illnst. 12s. ; n. ed. 6s. 
Eunice Anscombe, Is, 6d. 

GOT (B.) Comedie Frangaise 

a Londres, 3s. 
GOULD, S. B. See Foreign 

Gounod.Life and Works, 10s. 6 d, 
GOWER, Lord Ronald. See 

Great Artists, 

In all Departments of Literatttre. 


GRAESSI, Italian Bictionanj, 

3a. 6d. ; roan, 59. 
GRAY, T. See Choice Eds. 
Great Artists^ Illustrated Bio- 

graphies, 3s. 6d. per vol. except 

where the price is given. 
Barbizon School, 2 vols. 5 lyo'\.7s.6d. 
Gland e le Lor rain. 
Correggio, 2s. 6c?. 
Cox and De Wint. 
George Crnikshank. 
Delia Bobbia and Cellini, 2s. Gd, 
Albrecht Diirer. 
Figure Painters of Holland. By 

Lord Bonald Gower. 
Fra Angelico, Masacoio, &o. 
Fra Bartolommeo ; Leader Soott. 
Gainsborough and Constable. 
Ghiberti and Donatello, bj Leader 

8cott, 2s. 6d, 
Giotto, by H. Quilter ; 4to, 15s. 
Hogarth, by Austin Dobson. 
Hans Holbein. 

Landscape Painters of Holland. 
Landseer, by F. G. Stephens. 
Leonardo da Vinci, by J P. Eiohter. 
Little Masters of Germany, by 

W. B. Scott ; 4d, de luxe, 10s. 6d. 
Hantegna and Francia. 
Meissonior, 2s. 6d. 

Murillo, by Ellen B. Minor, 2s. GdL 
Overbeck, by J. B. Atkinson. 
Raphael, by N. D'Anvers. 
Rembrandt, by J. W. Mollett. 
Reynolds, by F. S. Pulling. 
Romney and Lawrence, 2s. 6d, 
Rubens, by Kett. 
Tintoretto, by 0^1e^. 
Titian, by Heath. 
Turner, by Monkhouso. 
Vandyck and Hals, by P. B. Head. 
Velasquez, by Edwin Stowe. 
Vernet & Delaroche. 
Watteau, by Mollett, 2s. Gd. 
Wilkie, by Mollett. 

Great Musicians, hiograpldeSy 
edited by F. Hueffer, 3s. each : — 
Bach, by Poolo. 

Great Musicians — continued. 


English Church Compossra 






Bossini, &o., by H. Sutherland Ed* 

Richard Wagner. 

Chreece. See Foreign Countries. 
GRIEB, German Dictionary, n. 

ed. 2 vols., fine paper, cloth, 2 Is. 
GROHMANN, Ganh:ps in the 

RocJcieSy 12s. Gd, 

GROVES. See Low'a Std. Bks. 

GROWOLL, A., Profession oj 
Booksellmgf pt. I., 9s. ne*t. 

GULLIE. Instruction and 
Amusemenfs of the Blindy ill., 6«. 

GUIZOT, History of Englarul, 
illust. 3 vols, re-issue, 10s. Gd, ea. 

-: History of ^France, illust. 

re-iesue, 8 vols. 10s. Gd, each. 

Abridged by G. Masson, 5a 

GUYOI^, Madame, lAfCy (js. 

HADLEY, J., Roman Laxo^ 
7s. Gd. 

HALE, How to Tie Salmon- 
Flies, 12s. Gd, 

Half 'length PoHraits. See 
Gentle Life Series. 

HALFORD, F. M., Ih-y Fly- 
fishing, n. ed. 25s, 

Floating Flies, 15^. &30j. 

HALL, Hoto to Live Long, 2s, 

HALSEY, F. A., Slide Valve 
GearSy 8s. Gd, 

HAMILTON. See English 

E. Fly-Jishing for Salmon^ 

6s. ; large paper, 10s. Gd. 

Riverside Naturalid, lis. 


A Select List of Books 

HANDEL See G. Musicians. 

HANDS, T., Numerical Exer- 
cises in CheAiiatry, 2s, 6d. ; with- 
out ans. 28. ; aD8. sep. 6d. 

Handy Guide to Lh^y-fly Fishing^ 
by Cots wold lays, new ed., Is, 

Handy Guide Book to Jajpanese 
Islands, Gs, 6d, 

HARKUT. See Low's Stand. 

HARLAND, Marion, Home 

Kitchen, Receipts, &o., Ss, 
HARRIS, W. B., Land of an 

African Sultan, 10s, Gd, ; large 

paper, 31 s. 6(2. 
HARRISON, Mary, Modem 

Cookery^ 6s, 

Sldlful Cook, n. ed. 5«. 

W., Louflon Houses, Illust. 

65. net ; n. edit., 28, 6d. 
^-r— Memor, Paris Houses, 6s. 

English Philosophers. 
HATTON. Sec Low's Standard 

H AWEIS,,Bfoad Church, 

Poets in the Pulpit^ new 

edit. Gs, I also ds. 6(2. 

Mrs., Housekeeping, 2s. 6d, 

Beautiful Houses, n. ed. 1«. 

HAYDN. See Great Musicians. 
HAZLITT. See Bayard Ser. 
HEAD, Percy R. See Illus. 

Text Books and Great Artists. 
HEARN, L, Youma, bs. 

HEATH, F. G., Fern World, 
ool. plates, 128, Gd., new edit. Gs, 

Gertrude, Tell us Why, 

2s. 6(2. 

HEGINBOTHAl^r, Stocliport, 
I., II., III., IV., v., 105. 6<2. each. 

HELDMANN, B. See Low's 
Standard 6oo]^8 for Boys. 

HENTY, G. A. See Low's 

Standard Books for Boys. 
'SiiCRUOisii>,Australiana, 6*. 

HERRICK, R., Poetry Edited 
by Austin Dohson, illast. by E. A. 
Abbey, 42s. 

HERVEY, Gkn., Records of 

Crime, Thuggre, ^c, 2 vols., 30s. 
HICKS, C. S., Our Boys, and 

what to do with Them ; Merchant 

Service, 5s. 
Yachts, Boats, and Canoes, 

Design and Construction, 10s. 6(2. 

HILL, G. B., Footsteps of JoJin- 
son, 63s. ; idiiion de luxe, 147s. 

Katharine St., Gram- 

mar of Palmistry, new ed., 1*. 

HINMAN, R., Eclectic Physi- 
cal Geography, 5s. 

Hints on proving Wills without 
Professional Assistance, n. ed. Is. 

Histonc Bindings in the Bod- 
leian Library^ many plates, 
94s. 6<2., 84s., 52s. Gd. and 42s. 

HODDER, E., History of 
South Australia, 2 vols., 24s. 

HOEY, Mrs. CASfiEL. See 
Low's Standard Novels. 

HOFFER, CaoutcJiouc ^ Gutta 
Percha, by W. T. Brannt, 12s. Gd. 

HOGARTIL See Gr. Artists, 
and Dobson, Anstin. 

HOLBEIN. See Great Artists. 

HOLDER, Charles F., Ivory 
King, 8s. Gd. ; new ed. ds. Gd. 

Living Lights, n. ed. Ss.Gd. 

HOLM, Saxb, Draxy Miller, 
See Low's Standard Series. 

HOLMAN, T., Life in the 

Navy, Is. 

Salt Yarns, new ed., Is. 

HOLMES, 0. Wendell, Before 

the Curfew, 5fi. 
Over the Tea Cups^ 6«, 

In all Depar Intents of Literature. 


HOLMES, 0. Wendell, Irm 

Qatet 4rc.> Poems, 6s. 
— ^Lrt«^ica/,holiday vol., 42s. 
— — Mechanism in Thought 

and Moral$t Is. 6d, 
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2,8. and 1<. 
Our Hundred Days in 

Europe, new edit. 6«. and 3s. 6d.; 

large paper, IS.*, 

— Poetical Wor7c$, qew edit., 
2 vols. 10s. 6d. 

Works f prose, 10 vols. ; 

poetry, 3 vols.; 13 vols. 84s. 
Limited large paper edit., 14 Yols. 
294s. nett. 

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Novels and Rose Library. 

Homer y Jliad, translated by A. 
Way, vol. I.. 9s. ; II., 9s. ; Odys- 
sey, in English verse, 7s. 6d. 

Horace in Latin, with Smart's 
Jiteral translation , 2s. 6d. ; trans- 
lation only, Is. 6d. 

HOSMER, J„ German Litera- 
ture, a short history, 7s. 6d. 

How and where to Fish in 
Ireland, by Hi- Regan, 3s. 6d. 

HOWARD, Blanche W., Tony 
the Maid, 3s. 6^. 

— See also Low's Standard 

HO WELLS, W.D. Undiscovered 

Country, 3s. 6d. and Is. 
HO WORTH, Sir H.H., Glacial 

Nightma/re S( the Flood, 2 vols., 30s. 
Mammoth and the Flood, 

HUEFFER. E. Se* Great 


HUGHES, Hugh Price. See 

HUME, Fergus, Creature of 
the Night, Is. See also Low's 
Standard Novels and Is. Novels. 

HUMFREY, Marian, Obstetric 

Nursing, 8s. 6d. 
Humorous Art at the Naval 
Exhibition, Is. 

HUMPHREYS, Jbnnbt, Some 

Little Britons iij, Brittany, 2s. 6d. 

HUNXmGDON, The Squires 
Nieces, 2s. 6d. (Playtime Li brary.) 

HYDE, A Hundred Years by 
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Hymnal Companion to the 
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Iceland. See Foreign Countries. 

Illustrated Text- Books of Art- 
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German, Flemish, and Datch 

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Head, &c. 

Painting, English and American. 

Sonlptnre, modern ; Leader Scott. 

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Spanish and French artists ; Smith. 

Water Colour Painting, by Bed- 

INDERWICK. F. A., Inter- 
regnum, lOs. 6d. 

Prisoner of War, ^s. 

King Edward and New 


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new edit. 7s. 6d. 

INGELOW, Jean. See Low's- 
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• Zealand Cousins, 6s. 

Sport and IVorh on the 

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Te?it Life in Tiger Land, 

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A Select List of Books 

IRVING, W., Utile Britain, 
105. 6(Z. and 6s. 

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JALKSON, Lewis, Ten Cen- 
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JAMES, Croakb, Law and 
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JAMES, German Dictionary, 
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JANVIER, Aztec Treaeure 
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Japan, See Foreign Countries. 

Japanese Books, untearablc. 

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JEFFERIES, Richard, Ama- 
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See also Low's Stan. Book?. 

JEPHSON, A. J. M., Emin 
Fasha relief expedition, 21s. 

Stories told in an African 

Forest, 8s. Cd. 

JOHNSTON, B.U.,The Congo, 
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South Italian Volcanoes, Ids, 

JOHNSTONE, D. L., Land of 
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JOINVILLE. See Bayard Ser. 

JULIEN, F., Conversational 
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First Lessons in Conversa- 
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KARR, H. W. Seton, Shores 
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KENNEDY, E. B., Blacks and 
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KERSHAW, S. W., Protest- 
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Khedives and Fashas, 7s. 6d. 

KILNER, K A., Four Welsh 
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KINGSTON. See Low's 
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Three, ^c, stories. Is. 

Story of the Qad^hys, new 

edit. Is. 

In all Departments of Literature. 


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stories I Is. 

Under the Deodars, ^'c,j 

' storiesi ts, 

- Phantom Rickshaw, ^c, 
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KIRKALDY, W. G., David 

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KNIGHT, E. F., Cruise of the 

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John Boyd* 8 Adventures fis, 

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Landscape Painters of Holland, 
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LANDSEER. See Great Artists. 

LANIER, S., Bay's FroissaH, 
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Percy, 7s. Gd. 

LANSDELL, Hbnry, Through 
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Low's Standard Library. 

Russian Central Mia, 

2 vols. 42s. 

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■ Chinese Central Asia, 2 
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LARDEN, W., School Course on 
Heat, 5th ed., entirely revised, 5s. 

LAURIE, A. See Low's Stand. 

LAWRENCE, Sergeant, Auto- 

liography^ 6s. 

LAWRENCE. See Romney 

in Great Artists. 
LAYARD, Mrs., West Indies, 

2s. 6d, 

G.S., His Qolf Madness, Is, 

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LEA, II. C, Inquisition in the 

Middle Ages, 3 vols., 42s. 
LEA RED, A., Morocco, n, ed. 


Shooting, 18s. 
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10s. 6d, 
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Leo XIIL Life, 18s. 
Leonardo da Vinci, See Great 

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Like unto Clirist, See Gentle 

Life Series. 
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Gorges, n. ed., 10s. 6d, 

See also Japaiiese Books. 


Preachers of the Age. 
Little Masters of Germany, Seo 

Great Artists. 
LONG, James, Farmei^s Hand' 

hook, 4.8. 6d. 

LONGFELLOW, Maidenhood, 
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Nuremhei^g, photogravure 

illustrations, 31s. Cil. 


A Select List of Books 

LONGFELLOW, Song of Hia- 
watha, illnst., 2I5. 

LOOMIS, E., Astronomy, 11. ed. 

LORD, Mrs. Frewek, Tales 

from Westminster Abbey, 2s, 6(1. ; 
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LORNE, Marquis op, Canada 
and Scotland, 7a. Gd, 

See also Prime Ministers. 

Louis, St/ See Bayard Series. 

Loio^s French Readers, edit, by 
C. F. Clifton, I. 3<Z., II. 3(Z., III. 

German Sei-ies, See 

Goethe, Meissner, Bandars, and 

London Cliarities, annu- 
ally, Is. 6d. J sewed. Is. 


Infant Primers, I. illus. 

3(2. ; II. illns. 6d. 

Pocket Encyclojpcedia, with 

plates, 3$. 6c2. ; roan, 4s. 6(2. 

Readers, Edited by John 

Gill, I., 9c2. ; II., 10c2. ; III., Is. ; 
IV., Is. 8(2. J v., 1». 4d ; VI, 
Is. 6(2. 

Low's Stand, Library of Travel 
(unless price is stated), vol. 7s.6(2. 

Ashe (R. P.) Two Kings of Uganda, 

3s. 6(2. ; also 6s. 
Butler, Great Lone Land ; also 

3s. Gd, 

Wild North Land. 

Knight, Cruise of the Falcon, also 

3s. Gd, 
Lanedell (H). Through Siberia, 

unabridged, 10s. 6c2. 

Loto^s Stand, Libr, — continued, 

Marshall (W.) Through America. 

Schweinfurth's Heart of Africa, 
2 vols. 3s. 6(2. each. 

Spry (W. J. J., B.K.\ Challenger 

Stanley (H. M.) Coomassie, 3s. Gd, 

How I Found Livingstone ; 

also 3s. Gd. 

Through the Dark Conti- 
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3#. Gd, 

Thomson, Through Masai Land. 

Low*8 Standard Novels, Library 
Edition (except where price is 
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edition, small post 870, 2s.6(2. ; 
paper bds. 2s. 

Baker, John Westacott. 

AJark Tillotson. 

Black (William) Adrontures in 

The Beautiful Wretch. 

— ^ Daughter of Heth. 

Donald Ross. 

Green Pastures & Piccadilly. 

In Far Lochaber. 

In Silk Attire. 

Judith Shakespeare. 


Lady Silrerdale's Sweetheart. 

Macleod of Dare. 

Madcap Viotet. 

Maid of Killeena. 

New Prince Fortunatus. 

Tho Penance of John Logan. 

Princess of Thule. 

Sabina Zembra. 

Shandon Bells. 

Stand Fast, Craig Boyston ! 

Strange Adventures of a 

House Boat. 

Strange Adventures of a 



Three Feathers. 

White Heather. 

White Wings. 

Wise Women of Inverness. 



In all Departments of Literature. 


Lqw\ Stand. Novels — continued. 

Low's Stand. Novels^continued, 

Blackmore (S. D.) Alice Lorraine. 

Martin, Even Mine Own Familiar 


Clara Vaughan. 

Musgrare (Mrs.) Miriam. 
Oliphant, Innocent. 

Cradock Nowell. 

: Oripps the Carrier. 

Osborn, Spell of Ashtaroth, 5«. 

Erema, or My Father's Sin. 

Prince Maskiloff. 

Kit and Kitty. 

Bidden (Mrs.) Alaric Spenceley. 

Lorna Doone. 

Daisies and Buttercups. 

Mary Anerley. 

Senior Partner. 


— - Struggle for Fame. 

Tommy Upmore. 

Russell (W. Clark) Betwixt the 

Bremont, Gentleman Digger. 


Brown (Robert) Jack Abbott's 

The Emigrant Ship. 


Frozen Pirate. 

Bynner, Agnes Sarriage. 

Jack's Courtship. 

Begnm's Daughter. 

Cable (G. W.) Bonaventure, 55. 

The Lady Maud. 

Coleridge (0. B.) English Sqnire. 

The Little Loo. 

Craddock, Despot of Broomsedge. 

Mrs. Dines' Jewels, 25. Qd. 

Croker (Mrs. B. M.) Some One 

and 2s. only. 


My Watch Below. , 

Cumberland (Stnart) Vasty Deep. 

The Ocean Free Lance. 

DeLeon,Under the Stars & Crescent. 

A Sailor's Sweetheart. 

Edwards (Miss Betham) Half-way. 

The Sea Queen. 

Eggleston, Juggernaut. 

A Strange Voyage. 

Ecnerson (P. H.), Son of the Fens. 

Wreck of the Orosvenor, 

French Heiress in her own Chateau. 

Ryce, Rector of Amesty. 

Gilliat, Story of the Dragonnades. 

Steuart, Kilgroom. 

Harkut, The Conspirator. 

Stockton (F. R.) Ardis Claverden. 

Hatton, Old House at Sandwich. 

Bee-man of Orn, 5s. 

Three Recruits. 

Dusantes and Mrs. Leeks and 

Hoey (Mrs. Cashel) Golden Sorrow. 

Mrs. Aleshine, 1 vol. 

Out of Court. 

Hundredth Man. 

Stern Chase. 

The late Mrs. Null. 

Holmes (0. W.), Guardian Angel. 

Stoker (Bram) Snake's Pass. 

Over the Teacups. 

Stowe (Mrs.) Dred. 

Howard (Blanche W.) Open Door. 

Old Town Folk. 

Hume (Fergus), Ferer of Life. 

Poganuo People. 

Ingelow (Jean) Don John. 

Thomas, House on the Scar. 

John Jerome, 5«. 

Thomson (Joseph) Ulu. 

Sarah de Berenger, 

Tourgee, Mnrvale Eastman. 

Lathrop, Newport, 5*. 

Tytler (S.) Duchess Frances. 

Macalpine, A Man's Conscience. 

Vane, From the Dead. 

Mac Donald (Geo.) Adela Cathcart. 

Polish Conspiracy. 

Guild Court. 

Walford (Mrs.), Her Great Idea. 

Mary Marston. 

Warner, Lit tie J ourney in the World . 


Wilcox, Senora Villena. 

Stephen Archer, Ac. 

Woolson (Constance F.) Anne. 

The Vicar's Daughter. 

East Angels. 

Weighed and Wanting. 

For the Major, 5s 

Macmaster, Our Pleasant Vices. 

Jupiter Lights. 


A Select List of Books 

Low* 8 Shilling Novels, 

Kdwardfl, Dream of Millions. 
Emerson, East Goast Yams. 

Sign or Lippo. 

EFans, Upper Ten. 

Forde. Subaltern, &c, 

— ^ Trotter : a Poosa Mystery. 

Hewitt, Oriel Penhalieon. 

Holman, Life in the Nary. 

Salt Tarns. 

Hume (F.), Creature of the Night 

Chinese Jar. 

Ignotus ; Yisitdrs' Book. 
Layard, His Golf Madness. 
Married by Proxy. 
Buz, Boughing it after Gold. 

Through the Mill. 

Vane, Lynn's Court Mystery. 
Vesper, Bobby, a Story. 

ZjOw's Standard Books for Soys, 
with numerous illustrations, 
2s. 6d. eaoh ; gilt edges, 85. 6d. 

Ainslie, Priceless Orchid. 

Biart (Luoien) Toung Naturalist. 

— My Bambles in the New World. 

Boussenard, Crusoes of Guiana. 

— — Gold Seekers, a sequel. 

Butler (Col. Sir Wm.) Bed Cloud. 

Cahun (Leon) Captain Mago. 

Blue Banner. 

Celiere, Exploits of the Doctor. 

Chaillu (Paul) Equator Wild Life. 

C oUin gwood,Under the Meteor Flag 

Voyage of the Aurora. 

Cozzens (S.W.) Marrellous Country. 

Dodge (Mrs.) Hans Brinker. 

Du Chaillu (Paul^ Gorilla Conntry. 


Evelyn, Inoa Queen. 

Fenn(G.Manville) Off to the WiJds. 

Silver Cafion. 

Groves (Percy) Charmouth Grange. 

Heldmann (B.) Leainder Mutiny. 

Henty (G. A.) Cornet of Horse. 

— — Jack Archer. 

— Winning his Spurs. 

Hyne, Sandy Carmichael. 

Janvier, Aztec Treasure House. 

Jefferies (Blchard) Bevis, Story of 
a Boy. 

Loto^s Stand. Boohs for Boys- 

Johnstone, Mountain Kingdom. 
Kennedy, Blacks and Bushrangers. 
Kingston (W. H. G.) Ben Burton. 

— Captain Mugford. 

— Dick Cheveley. 

Heir of Kilfinnan. 


— Two Supercargoes. 

With Axe and Eifle. 

Laurie (A.) Axel Ebersen. 

Conquest of the Moon. 

New'York to Brest. 

Secret of the Magian. 

MacGregor (John) Rob Roy Canoe. 
Roh Roy in the Baltic. 

Yawl Rob Roy. 

Maclean, Maid of the Qolden Age. 

Malan (A. N.) Cobbler of Corni- 

Meunier, Great Hunting Grounds. 

MuUer, Noble Words and Deeds. 

Norway (G.) How Martin Drake 
found his Father. 

Perelaer, The Three Deserters. 

Beed (Talbot Baines) Boger Ingle- 
ton, Minor. 

— — Sir Ludar. 

Eeid (Mayne) Strange Adventures. 

Bousselet (Louis) Drummer-boy. 

King of the Tigers. 

Serpent Charmer. 

Son of the Constable. 

Bussell (W. Clark) Frozen Pirate. 

Stanley, iHj Kalulu. 

Tregance, Louis, in New Guinea. ■ 

Verne, Adrift in the Pacific. 

— Purchase of the North Pole. 
Winder (F. H.) Lost in Africa. 

Low^s Standard Series of Bools 
by popular writers, cloth gilt, 
2s. ; gilt edges, 25. 6d. each. 

Alcott (L. M.) A Bose in Bloom. 

An Old-Fashioned Girl. 

Aunt Jo's Scrap Bag. 

Eight Cousins, illust. 

Jack and Jill. 

— Jimmy's Cruise. 

In all Departments of Literatttre. 


Loio'b Stand, Bei-ies of Books — 

Alcott (L. M.) Little Men. 

Little Women & L. Wo. Wedded 

Lulu's Library, illust. 

HecoUectioDS of Childhood. 

Shawl Straps. 

-^ — Silver Pitchers. 

— — Spinning- Wheel Stories, 

Under the Lilacs, illust. 

Work and Beginning Again, ill. 

Alden (W. L.) Jimmj Brown, illust. 

Trying to Find Europe. 

Banyan, Pilgrim's Progress, 2». 
De Witt (Madame) An Only Sister. 
Frano (Maud J.), Stories, 2s. 6ci. 

edition, see page 9. 
Holm (Saxe) Draxy Miller's Dowry. 
Bobinson (Phil) Indian Garden. 

Under the Punkah. 

Boe (B. P.) Nature's Serial Story. 
Saintine, Picciola. 
Samuels, Forecastle to Cabin, illust. 
Sandeau (Jules) Seagull Bock. 
Stowe (Mrs.) Dred. 

Ghost in the Mill, &c. 

My Wife and I. 

—— We and our Neighbours. 
Tooley (Mrs.) Harriet B. Stowe. 
Warner, In the Wilderness. 

My Summer in a Garden. 

Whitney (Mrs.) Leslie Goldth waiter 

Faith Gartney's Girlhood. 

— ' — The Gay worthys. 


Beal Folks. 

We Girls. 

The Other Girls : a Sequel. 

%* A new Ulustfated^ list of hooTcs 

for hoys and girls, with portraits 

of celebrated authors, sent post 

free on application, 

LOWELL, J. R, Among my 
BooTcs, I. and II., 7s. 6d. each. 

■ Vision of iSir Zaunfal, 
ill lis. 63s. 

LUMMIS, C. F., Tramp, Ohio 
to Californiaf 6s. 

Land of Poco Tiempo 

(Now Mexico), 10s. Qd,, illust. 

MACDONALD, J)., Oceanians. 

— Geokqe. See Low's Stand. 

Sir John A., Life, I65. 

MACGOUN, Commercial Cor- 

respondencCf 5$, 
M AGGREGOR, J., Rob Boy in 

the Baltic f n. ed. 3s. 6d. and 2s. 6(Z. 
Boh Boy Canoe J new edit., 

3s. 6d, and 2s. ed, 

— Yawl Bob Boy, new edit., 
ds. 6d, and 2s. 6d, 

MACKENNA, Brave Men in 

Action f 10s. 6d. 
MACKENZIE, Sm Morell, 

Fatal Illness of Frederick the 

Noble, 2s. 6d. 

Essays, 7s, 6d, 


BOLT, 8, African Campaign, 50s. 
MACLAREN,A. See Preachers. 
MACLEAN, H. E. See Low's 

Standard Books. 


Standard Novels. 
MaCMULLEN, John Mbr- 

CBB, History of Canada, 3rd ed., 2 

vols., 25s. 

MACMURDO, E., History of 
Portugal, 2ls.; IL 21s.; ITL 21s. 

MAEL, Pierre, Under the Sea 
to the North Pole, 5s. 

MAHAN, Capt. A. T., Admiral 

Farragut, 6s. 
Influenpe of Sea Power 

on the French Revolution, 2 vols. 

(British naval history), 30s. 
— — Sea Power in History, 18s. 

MAIN, Mrs., My Home in the 

Alp^, 3s. Gd, 
See also Buniaby, Mrs. 

MAL AN, SeeLow'sStand. Books 

C. F. DE M., Eric and 

Connie*s Cruise, 5s. 


A Select List of Books 

Manchester Library, Eeprinfs 
of Classict at nett prioei, per 
YoL, 6(2.; sewed, 3d. 

%* List on application. 

Man*6 Thoughts, Soe Gentle 

Life Seiibs. 
MANLEY, Notes on Fish and 

Fishing, Sa. 


See Great Artists. 
MARBURY, Favourite Flies, 

with coloured plate8,&o.,245.nett. 
MARCH, F. A., Comparative 

Anglo-Saxon Grammar, 12s, 

Anglo-Saxon Reader, is. 6if. 

MARKHAM, Adm., Naval 

Career dwring the old war, lis, 
•^— Clbmbkts R, Peru. See 

For. Countries. 
War Between Peru and 

Chili, 10s, 6d, 

MARSH, A. E. W., Holiday 

in Madeira, 6s, 

MARSH, G. P., Lectures on 
the English Language, ISs, 

Origin and History of the 

English Language, ISs. 

MARSHALL, W. G., Through 
America^ new edit. 7s. 6(2. 

MARSTON, E., How Stanley 
wrote " In Darlcest Africa," Is, 

See also Amateur Angler, 

Frank's Banche, and Fresh 

MARSTON, Wbstlakd, Emi- 
nent Recent Actors, n. ed., 69. 

MARTIN, J. W., Float Fish- 
ing and Spinning, new edit. 2s. 

MATHESON, Annib, Love's 

Music, and other lyrics, Ss. Gd, 

MATTHEWS, J. W., Incwadi 

Tami, Twenty Years in S. Africa, 
MAUCHLINE, Robbut, Mine 

Foreman's Handbook, 21s. 

MAURY, M, F., Life, Us. 6d. 

MAURY, M. F., Physical Geo. 
graphy and Meteorology of the 
Sea, new ed. 6s. 

MEISSNER, A. L., Children's 

Own Oerman Book (Low's Series), 

Is. ed, 
— ^— First German Header 

(Low's Series), Is, 6(2. 
^— Second German Reader 

(Low's Series), It, 6(2. 
MEISSO^^IER. See Great 


Prime Ministers. 
MELIO, G. L., Swedish Brill, 

Member for Wrottenborough, 

8s. 6(2. 
Men of Achievement, 8«. 6d. each. 

Noah Brooks, Statesmen. 

Gen. A. W. Greeley, Explorers. 

Philip G. Hubert, inventors. 

W. O. Stoddard, If 6n of Business. 

1729-1847, Letters and Journals, 

new edit., 2 yds., 30a. 

See also Great Musicians, 


terranean, new ed., 6s. 
MERRIFIELD, J., Nautical 

Astronomy, 7s. 6d. 
MESNEY,W., TungJcing,3s. 6d. 
Metal Workers' Recipes and 

Processes, bj W. T. Brannt, 12s.6d, 
MEUNIEIt V, See Low's 

Standard Books. 
Michelangelo. See Great Artists. 
MIJATOVICH, C, Constant 

tine, 7s. 6d. 
MILL, James. See English 

MILLS, J*, Alternative Oheni' 

isiry, answers to the ordinary 

coarse, Is. 

— Alternative Elementary 
Chemistry, Is. Qd, j answers. Is, 

/;/ all Departments of Literature, 


MILLS, J., Chemiatry for 
students, Zs. 6(2. 


Volcanoes of Japan, collotypes by 
Ogawa, part i., 21«. cett. 

MILTON'S Allegro. See 
Choice Editions. 

MITCHELL, D.G.(Ik. Marvel) 
Snglish Lands, Letters and Kings, 
2 vols. 65. each. 

Writings, new edit per 

vol. 5*. 

MITFORD, J., Letters, Zs. M. 

Miss, Our Village, illus. 6«, 

MODY, Mrs., German Litera- 

tp,re, outlines, Is. 
MOFFATT, W., Land and 

MOINET. See Preachers. 
MOLLETT. See Great Artists. 

MOLONEY, J. A., With Cap- 

tain Stairs to Katanga, Ss. 6d. 
MONKHOUSE. SeeG. Artists. 
Montaigne's Essays, revised by 

J. Hain Friswell, 28. 6d. 
MONTBARD (G.), A^nong the 

Moors, illast., 168. ; ed. de Luxe, 

MOORE, J.M., New Zealand far 

Emigrant, Invalid, and Tourist, 58. 

MORLEY, Henry, English 
Literature in the Reign of Victoria, 
28. 6d. 

Five Centuries of English 

Literature f 2s. 

MORSE, E. S., Japanese Homes, 

new edit. 108. ^d. 
MORTEN, H., Hospital Ufe, \s. 
& GETHEN, Tales of the 

Children* s Ward, 8s. 6d, 

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