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Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 2 58 0 Browse Search
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall) 27 5 Browse Search
Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 3 15 1 Browse Search
Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 1 15 1 Browse Search
Archibald H. Grimke, William Lloyd Garrison the Abolitionist 12 0 Browse Search
Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 2 7 1 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Cheerful Yesterdays 6 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Margaret Fuller Ossoli 6 2 Browse Search
Lydia Maria Child, Isaac T. Hopper: a true life 6 0 Browse Search
Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 3 4 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall). You can also browse the collection for Ellis Gray Loring or search for Ellis Gray Loring in all documents.

Your search returned 16 results in 11 document sections:

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Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring. (search)
To Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring. New York, August 15, 1835. I am at Brooklyn, at the house of a very hospitable Englishman, a friend of Mr. Thompson's. I have not ventured into the city, nor does one of us dare to go to church to-day, so great is the excitement here. You can form no conception of it. 'Tis like the times of the French Revolution, when no man dared trust his neighbors. Private assassins from New Orleans are lurking at the corners of the streets, to stab Arthur Tappan; and very large sums are offered for any one who will convey Mr. Thompson into the Slave States. I tremble for him, and love him in proportion to my fears. He is almost a close prisoner in his chamber, his friends deeming him in imminent peril the moment it is ascertained where he is. We have managed with some adroitness to get along in safety so far; but I have faith that God will protect him, even to the end. Yet why do I make this boast? My faith has at times been so weak that I have started and tremb
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring. (search)
To Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring. Northampton [Mass.], June 9, 1838. A month elapsed after I came here before I stepped into the woods which were all around me blooming with wild flowers. I did not go to Mr. Dwight's ordination, nor have I yet been to meeting. He has been to see me, however, and though I left my work in the midst, and sat down with a dirty gown and hands somewhat grimmed, we were high up in the blue in fifteen minutes. I promised to take a flight with him from the wash-tub or dish-kettle any time when he would come along with his balloon. ... C. is coming down next week, and I think I shall send a line to some of you by her. Her religious furor is great, just at this time, but of her theological knowledge you can judge when I tell you that when I spoke of old John Calvin, she asked me if he was the same as John the Baptist. ... I don't suppose any present was quite so satisfactory as the pretty green watering pot. Father said I was out with it in the rain as wel
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mr. Ellis Gray Loring. (search)
To Mr. Ellis Gray Loring. New York, May 27, 1841. Dearest friend,--Blessings on you for your cheering letter. I trust it expresses the general anti-slavery sentiment. I am afraid many will think me not gritty enough. The editing is much more irksome than I supposed. The type is fine, and that large sheet swallows an incredible amount of matter. The cry still is, as C. says, More! More! An anti-slavery editor is a sort of black sheep among the fraternity, and I have no courtesies from booksellers. ---assists me by getting books out of club libraries, etc.; but still my range for extracts is very limited. The first familiar face I met here was Mr. B- . He is preaching New Church doctrines with great effect. Is it not strange that I can neither get in nor out of the New Church? Let me go where I will, it keeps an outward hold upon me, more or less weak on one side, while reforms grapple me closely on the other. I feel that they are opposite, nay, discordant. My affection
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Ellis Gray Loring. (search)
To Ellis Gray Loring. New York, November 7, 1849. I spent most of last Sunday with Fredrika Bremer; four or five hours entirely alone with her. Mrs. S. very kindly invited me to meet her there. What a refreshment it was! She is so artless and unaffected, such a reality! I took a wonderful liking to her, though she is very plain in her person, and I am a fool about beauty. We talked about Swedenborg, and Thorwaldsen, and Jenny Lind, and Andersen. She had many pleasant anecdotes to tell of Jenny, with whom she is intimately acquainted. Among other things, she mentioned having once seen her called out in Stockholm, after having successfully performed in a favorite opera. She was greeted not only with thundering claps, but with vociferous hurrahs. In the midst of the din she began to warble merely the notes of an air in which she was very popular. The ritournelle was, How shall I describe what my heart is feeling? She uttered no words, she merely warbled the notes, clear a
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Ellis Gray Loring. (search)
To Ellis Gray Loring. Wayland, February 24, 1856. David has signed my will and I have sealed it up and put it .away. It excited my towering indignation to think it was necessary for him to sign it, and if you had been by, you would have made the matter worse by repeating your old manly fling and twit about married women being dead in the law. I was not indignant on my own account, for David respects the freedom of all women upon principle, and mine in particular by reason of affection superadded. But I was indignant for womankind made chattels personal from the beginning of time, perpetually insulted by literature, law, and custom. The very phrases used with regard to us are abominable. Dead in the law, Femme couverte. How I detest such language! I must come out with a broadside on that subject before I die. If I don't, I shall walk and rap afterward.
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring. (search)
To Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring. Wayland, October 26, 1856. I intended to have written to you immediately after I received your very kind and pressing invitation to come to Beverly. . . . Oh, what misery it is, to feel such a fever heat of anxiety as I do, and yet be shut up in a pen-fold, where I cannot act! It seems to me sometimes as if I could tear up a mountain, and throw it so that all false Democrats and stiff old fogies would be buried under it forever. All the fire there is in me is burning: and Nature gave me a fearful amount of it. You see, dear, I should be a very dangerous and explosive guest, just at this time; especially if you happened to have any amiable apologizers about.
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Miss Lucy Osgood. (search)
To Miss Lucy Osgood. Wayland, 1858. I was just about answering your welcome letter, when that overwhelming blow Death of Ellis Gray Loring. came suddenly, and for a time seemed to crush all life and hope out of me. Nothing but the death of my kind husband could have caused me such bitter grief. Then came your precious letter of sympathy and condolence. I thanked you for it, from the depths of my suffering heart; but I did not feel as if I could summon energy to write to any but the bereaved ones of his own household. You know that he was a valuable friend to me, but no one but myself could know how valuable. For thirty years he has been my chief reliance. In moral perplexities I always went to him for counsel, and he never failed to clear away every cloud. In all worldly troubles I went to him, and always found a judicious adviser, a sympathizing friend, a generous helper. He was only two months younger than myself, but I had so long been accustomed to lean upon him, t
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To David Lee Child. (search)
replaced them, righted the nest and fastened it to the twigs with strings. To my great surprise she returned to her patient labor of incubation. ... Mrs. S. returned on Friday, and I went as far as Boston with her. The day was so intensely hot that I regretted having put my head into the city. But as I was toiling along I heard a voice behind me exclaim, Maria Child! I turned and recognized John G. Whittier. He said he had missed the cars by some mistake, but now he felt the disappointment was providential; he had for a long time so wanted to see me. I could not bear to go into the office where I had been accustomed to take my friends. I knew the empty chair of that dear lost friend Ellis Gray Loring. would be too much for me. So I asked him into H.'s office, and there we chatted an hour. Mrs. S. regretted your absence, left kind remembrances for you, and told me I was a happy woman to have a husband that wrote me such charming love letters. I told her I thought so too.
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), chapter 84 (search)
Lines written by Mrs. Child on the anniversary of the death of Ellis Gray Loring. these verses of Mrs. Child, though written on the first anniversary of Mr. Loring's death, were not published till some years after, which accounts for the allusions to the extinction of slavery in Mr. Whittier's response. May 24, 1859. Again the trees are clothed in vernal green; Again the waters flow in silvery sheen; But all this beauty through a mist I see, For earth bloomed thus when thou wert lost to meMr. Loring's death, were not published till some years after, which accounts for the allusions to the extinction of slavery in Mr. Whittier's response. May 24, 1859. Again the trees are clothed in vernal green; Again the waters flow in silvery sheen; But all this beauty through a mist I see, For earth bloomed thus when thou wert lost to me. The flowers come back, the tuneful birds return, But thou for whom my spirit still doth yearn Art gone from me to spheres so bright and far, Thou seem'st the spirit of some distant star. O for some telegram from thee, my friend Some whispered answer to the love I send! Or one brief glance from those dear guileless eyes, That smiled to me so sweetly thy replies. My heart is hungry for thy gentle ways, Thy friendly counsels, and thy precious praise; I seem to travel through the dark alone, Sin
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To the same. (search)
To the same. Wayland, 1874. I have been wanting to write you these many days, but I make it a rule not to write when I am sad, and my soul has been greatly troubled. Since the death of Ellis Gray Loring, no affliction has oppressed me so heavily as the death of Charles Sumner. I loved and reverenced him beyond any other man in public life. He was my ideal of a hero, more than any of the great men in our national history. In fact I almost worshipped him. I see no hopes of such another man to stem the overwhelming tide of corruption in this country. But perhaps when a momentous crisis comes, the hour will bring forth the man. If so, it will be well for the nation and for the world; but for myself I can never, never again feel the implicit trust in any mortal man that I felt in Charles Sumner. A feeling akin to remorse renders my grief almost insupportable. Certainly it was not my fault, that I could not view the last election in the light he did; but I wept bitterly when he
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