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Document | Max. Freq | Min. Freq | ||
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Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 4 | 2,831 | 1 | Browse | Search |
C. Edwards Lester, Life and public services of Charles Sumner: Born Jan. 6, 1811. Died March 11, 1874. | 1,590 | 8 | Browse | Search |
Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 3 | 1,580 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 2 | 1,048 | 4 | Browse | Search |
Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 1 | 918 | 2 | Browse | Search |
Elias Nason, The Life and Times of Charles Sumner: His Boyhood, Education and Public Career. | 718 | 2 | Browse | Search |
Frank Preston Stearns, Cambridge Sketches | 350 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) | 203 | 1 | Browse | Search |
Adam Badeau, Grant in peace: from Appomattox to Mount McGregor, a personal memoir | 194 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Jula Ward Howe, Reminiscences: 1819-1899 | 156 | 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 Charles Sumner or search for Charles Sumner in all documents.
Your search returned 38 results in 17 document sections:
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), Introduction. (search)
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mrs. S. B. Shaw . (search)
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Miss Lucy Osgood . (search)
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mrs. S. B. Shaw . (search)
To Mrs. S. B. Shaw. Wayland, 1856.
The outrage upon Charles Sumner made me literally ill for several days.
It brought on nervous headache and painful suffocations about the heart.
If I could only have done something, it would have loosened that tight ligature that seemed to stop the flowing of my blood.
But I never was one anding and waiting; and to stand and wait then!
It almost drove me mad. And that miserable Faneuil Hall meeting!
The time-serving Mr.-- talking about his friend Sumner's being a man that hit hard!
making the people laugh at his own witticisms, when a volcano was seething beneath their feet!
poisoning the well-spring of popula o find some relief from the mental pain that the course of public affairs in this country has for many years caused me.
But I am more hopeful.
Such a man as Charles Sumner will not bleed and suffer in vain.
Those noble martyrs of liberty in Kansas will prove missionary ghosts, walking through the land, rousing the nation from i
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, July 9, 1856.
I did not intend to leave your New York letter so long unanswered, but the fact is, recent events have made me heart-sick.
My anxiety about Charles Sumner and about the sufferers in Kansas has thrown a pall over everything.
The fire of indignation is the only thing that has lighted up my gloom.
At times my peace principles have shivered in the wind; and nothing could satisfy my mood but Jeanne d'arc's floating banner and consecrated sword.
And when this state of mind was rebuked by the remembrance of him who taught us to overcome evil only with good, I could do nothing better than groan out, in a tone of despairing reproach, How long, O Lord!
How long?
Certainly there are gleams of light amid the darkness.
There has been more spirit roused in the North than I thought was in her. I begin to hope that either the slave power must yield co argument and the majesty of public sentiment or else that we shall see an army in the field, sto
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To the same. (search)
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To David Lee Child . (search)
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, 1857.
I have lately been much interested about the young Kentucky lady
Miss Mattie Griffith. who emancipated all her slaves, in consequence of reading Charles Sumner's speeches.
She and I correspond, as mother and daughter, and I should infer from her letters, even if I knew nothing else about her, that she was endowed with a noble, generous, sincere, and enthusiastic nature.
It is no slight sacrifice, at nineteen years old, to give up all one's property, and go forth into the world to earn her own living, penniless and friendless; but I shall earn my living with a light heart, because I shall have a clean conscience.
I quote her own words, which she wrote in an hour of sadness, in consequence of being cut by friends, reproached by relations, and deluged with insulting letters from every part of the South.
Her relatives resort to both coaxing and threatening, to induce her publicly to deny that she wrote the Autobiography of a female slave.
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Miss Lucy Osgood . (search)
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Miss Lucy Searle . (search)
To Miss Lucy Searle. Wayland, December 21, 1862.
We live almost like dormice in the winter.
Very few people are so completely isolated.
But I warm up my little den with bright little pictures, and rainbow glories from prisms suspended in the windows.
I am amused twenty times a day with their fantastic variations.
Sometimes the portrait of Charles Sumner is transfigured by the splendid light, and sometimes the ears of my little white kitten, in the picture opposite, are all aglow.
The moss on a stick of wood in the corner suddenly becomes iridescent, and then the ashes on the hearth look like the glittering soil where the metallic gnomes live.
I am childish enough to find pleasure in all this, and to talk aloud to the picture of a baby that is being washed.
But you must not infer from this that I live for amusement.
On the contrary, I work like a beaver the whole time.
Just now I am making a hood for a poor neighbor; last week I was making flannels for the hospitals; odd