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George Burroughs (search for this): chapter 2
desert threw. How Rollins, to obtain the cash, Wrote a dull history of trash. The lives of Franklin and of Penn, Of Fox and Scott, all worthy men. The life of Burroughs, too, I've read, As big a rogue as e'er was made. And Tufts, too, though I will be civil, Worse than an incarnate devil. Now the lives of George Burroughs aGeorge Burroughs and Henry Tufts were the Gil Bias and even the Guzman d'alfarache of the New England readers of a hundred years ago; the former having gone through many editions, while the latter — by far the wittier and wickeder of the two--was suppressed by the Tufts family, and not more than half a dozen copies are known to exist. Without it thelps us to comprehend the breadth and toleration of Whittier's nature, and especially the sense of humour which relieved it, when he gives a characterisation of Burroughs and Tufts that shows him to have read their memoirs. For other books he borrowed what he could find, especially books of tragedy, of which he was always fond;
Sewell (search for this): chapter 2
try side; We heard the hawks at twilight play, The boat-horn on Piscataqua, The loon's weird laughter far away; We fished her little trout-brook, knew What flowers in wood and meadow grew, What sunny hillsides autumn-brown She climbed to shake the ripe nuts down; Saw where in sheltered cove and bay The ducks' black squadron anchored lay, And heard the wild geese calling loud Beneath the gray November cloud. Then, haply with a look more grave And soberer tone, some tale she gave From painful Sewell's ancient tome, Beloved in every Quaker home, Of faith fire-winged by martyrdom, Or Chalkley's Journal, old and quaint,-- Gentlest of skippers, rare sea-saint!-- Or his uncle told of the lore of fields and brooks. Himself to Nature's heart so near That all her voices in his ear Of beast or bird had meanings clear, Like Apollonius of old, Who knew the tales the sparrows told, Or Hermes who interpreted What the sage cranes of Nilus said; A simple, guileless, childlike man, Content to live w
Barclay (search for this): chapter 2
setts:--Her home is brave in Jaffrey Street, With stately stairways worn With feet of old Colonial knights And ladies gentle-born. And on her, from the wainscot old, Ancestral faces frown,-- And this has worn the soldier's sword, And that the judge's gown. All this type of life he had studied in New England history,--none better,--but what real awe did it impose on him who had learned at his mother's knee to seek the wilderness with William Penn or to ride through the howling mobs with Barclay of Ury? The Quaker tradition, after all, had a Brahminism of its own which Beacon Street in Boston could not rear or Harvard College teach. To this special privilege John Greenleaf Whittier was born in Haverhill, Mass., on Dec. 17, 1807. The founder of the name and family of Whittier in this country, Thomas Whittier, was one of that type of ancestors to which every true American looks back with pride, if he can. Of Huguenot descent, but English training, he sailed from Southampton in
Elias Smith (search for this): chapter 2
f the period that these included not only some which were distinctly secular, but even some so reprehensible that they are now difficult to find, and quite banished from orderly households. One of his first attempts in verse was a rhymed catalogue of the books in the family library — a list which begins as follows: The Bible towering o'er all the rest, Of all other books the best. William Penn's laborious writing And a book 'gainst Christians fighting. A book concerning John's Baptism, Elias Smith's Universalism. How Captain Riley and his crew Were on Sahara's desert threw. How Rollins, to obtain the cash, Wrote a dull history of trash. The lives of Franklin and of Penn, Of Fox and Scott, all worthy men. The life of Burroughs, too, I've read, As big a rogue as e'er was made. And Tufts, too, though I will be civil, Worse than an incarnate devil. Now the lives of George Burroughs and Henry Tufts were the Gil Bias and even the Guzman d'alfarache of the New England readers of
William Penn (search for this): chapter 2
e he had studied in New England history,--none better,--but what real awe did it impose on him who had learned at his mother's knee to seek the wilderness with William Penn or to ride through the howling mobs with Barclay of Ury? The Quaker tradition, after all, had a Brahminism of its own which Beacon Street in Boston could not was a rhymed catalogue of the books in the family library — a list which begins as follows: The Bible towering o'er all the rest, Of all other books the best. William Penn's laborious writing And a book 'gainst Christians fighting. A book concerning John's Baptism, Elias Smith's Universalism. How Captain Riley and his crew Were on Sahara's desert threw. How Rollins, to obtain the cash, Wrote a dull history of trash. The lives of Franklin and of Penn, Of Fox and Scott, all worthy men. The life of Burroughs, too, I've read, As big a rogue as e'er was made. And Tufts, too, though I will be civil, Worse than an incarnate devil. Now the lives of Geor
Matthew Arnold (search for this): chapter 2
his life is no game of chance, and his investments in the earth are better than in stock companies and syndicates. As to profits, if our farmers could care less for the comfort of themselves 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 profits 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 happiness of youth. When the great English critic Matthew Arnold was in this country, on returning from a visit in Essex County, he remarked that while the land looked to him rough and unproductive, 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.
George Fox (search for this): chapter 2
ne of his first attempts in verse was a rhymed catalogue of the books in the family library — a list which begins as follows: The Bible towering o'er all the rest, Of all other books the best. William Penn's laborious writing And a book 'gainst Christians fighting. A book concerning John's Baptism, Elias Smith's Universalism. How Captain Riley and his crew Were on Sahara's desert threw. How Rollins, to obtain the cash, Wrote a dull history of trash. The lives of Franklin and of Penn, Of Fox and Scott, all worthy men. The life of Burroughs, too, I've read, As big a rogue as e'er was made. And Tufts, too, though I will be civil, Worse than an incarnate devil. Now the lives of George Burroughs and Henry Tufts were the Gil Bias and even the Guzman d'alfarache of the New England readers of a hundred years ago; the former having gone through many editions, while the latter — by far the wittier and wickeder of the two--was suppressed by the Tufts family, and not more than half a d
Nathaniel Greene (search for this): chapter 2
young Dartmouth College student, used to read aloud on winter evenings, in the Whittier household, the poems of Burns, explaining the Scotch dialect; and finally lent the book to the boy of fourteen, who had heard it with delight. At a later time one of the Waverley novels came into his hands, probably by borrowing, and he and his young sister read it on the sly at bedtime, till their candle went out at a critical passage. Furthermore, he visited Boston in his teens as the guest of Mrs. Nathaniel Greene, one of his Batchelder kindred, there buying his first copy of Shakespeare, and being offered a ticket to the theatre by an accomplished actress, a kindness which he declined, because he had promised his mother to keep away from that fatal peril. He summed up his experience of farming and farmers in this letter to the Essex Agricultural Society, dated 12th mo. 30, 1888. My ancestors since 1640 have been farmers in Essex County. I was early initiated into the mysteries of far
John Greenleaf Whittier (search for this): chapter 2
akes it the more interesting to remember that Whittier was born within five miles of the old Longfelwidely travelled author of the Boston circle, Whittier the least so; Longfellow spoke a variety of languages, Whittier only his own; Longfellow had whatever the American college of his time could givegfellow had children and grandchildren, while Whittier led a single life. Yet in certain gifts, aparead it, similar scenes in the Country Brook. Whittier's Works, V. 320-22. The house still stand many as ten or fifteen. In such a household Whittier grew up, listening not without occasional crinel underclothing to everybody. The barn, as Whittier himself afterward testified, had no doors: thn its floors for more than a century. There Whittier milked seven cows; and tended a horse, two oxell remember in later years as being all that Whittier describes in him. The place where he is celebthy shadow less, Never fail thy cheerfulness! Whittier's Works, IV. 73. Coffin, then a young Dar[20 more...]
James Russell Lowell (search for this): chapter 2
. Yet in certain gifts, apart from poetic quality, they were alike; both being modest, serene, unselfish, brave, industrious, and generous. They either shared, or made up between them, the highest and most estimable qualities that mark poet or man. Whittier, like Garrison,--who first appreciated his poems,--was brought up apart from what Dr. Holmes loved to call the Brahmin class in America; those, namely, who were bred to cultivation by cultivated parents. Emerson, Longfellow, Holmes, Lowell, were essentially of this class; all their immediate ancestors were, in French phrase, gens de robe; three of them being children of clergymen, and one of a lawyer who was also a member of Congress. All of them had in a degree — to borrow another phrase from Holmes — tumbled about in libraries. Whittier had, on the other hand, the early training of a spiritual aristocracy, the Society of Friends. He was bred in a class which its very oppressors had helped to ennoble; in the only meetings
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