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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 Wayland (Massachusetts, United States) or search for Wayland (Massachusetts, United States) in all documents.
Your search returned 109 results in 97 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 Francis G. Shaw
To Francis G. Shaw. Wayland, January 22, 1854.
Did you ever see, among a series of frescoes by Correggio, somewhere in Italy, Diana with a crescent on her brow, guiding her chariot through the clouds?
The engraving of it by Toschi is, to me, the most graceful, beautiful, altogether perfect thing I ever did see. It is a glorious woman, and yet, in expression, the real full moon, guiding her bright chariot through the heavens.
If I lived where it was I should make a little golden altar, and burn incense before it. You see there is no washing my Greek heathenism out of me. What is the reason that a region so totally unlike my homely environment in the outward world has always seemed to me so like a remembered home? . . .
Things are going on at a terrible rate on the slavery question.
They are trying in Congress to vote payment to the piratical claimants of the Amistad, and to abolish the obligation of Southerners in the Missouri compromise.
Think of that!
Gerrit Smith is in
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Ellis Gray Loring
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 Prof. Convers Francis
To Prof. Convers Francis. Wayland, February 27, 1856.
Concerning theology, I still have a difficulty in seeing eye to eye with you. If there is such a science, I should define it as treating of man's relations with God; while ethics treat of his relations with fellow-men.
Is there any basis for a science concerning the nature of the Divine Being, and the relations of human souls with him?
What have we for guides into the infinite, except faith and aspiration?
And must not faith and aspiration necessarily differ in individuals, according to temperament, education, and other external influences?
I am passing through strange spiritual experiences not at all of my own seeking or willing.
Ideas which formerly seemed to me a foundation firm as the everlasting hills, are rolling away from under my feet, leaving me on a ladder poised on the clouds.
Still the ladder stays fixed, like Jupiter and the Virgin Mary seated on clouds in pictures.
I have ceased to believe that any reve
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mrs. S. B. Shaw
To Mrs. S. B. Shaw Wayland, March 23, 1856.
This winter has been the loneliest of my life.
If you could know my situation you would pronounce it unendurable.
I should have thought it so myself if I had had a foreshadowing of it a few years ago. But the human mind can get acclimated to anything.
What with constant occupation and the happy consciousness of sustaining and cheering my poor old father in his descent into the grave, I am almost always in a state of serene contentment.
In summer, my once extravagant love of beauty satisfies itself with watching the birds, the insects, and the flowers in my little patch of a garden.
I have no room in which to put the vases and engravings and transparencies that friends have given me from time to time.
But I keep them safely in a large chest, and when birds and flowers are gone I sometimes take them out, as a child does its playthings, and sit down in the sunshine with them, dreaming how life would seem in such places, and how poet
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Miss Lucy Osgood
To Miss Lucy Osgood. Wayland, May 11, 1856.
Since you will think of me as an author, I am glad that you think of me as an alive author; for so long as I write at all, I desire to be very much alive.
This is the second time I have walked out in stormy weather without a cloak.
My Appeal in favor of anti-slavery, and attacking colonization, marched into the enemy's camp alone.
It brought Dr. Channing to see me, for the first time; and he told me it had stirred up his mind to the conviction that he ought not to remain silent on the subject.
Then came Dr. Palfrey, who, years afterward, said that the emancipation of his slaves might be traced to the impulse that book had given him. Charles Sumner writes me that the influence of my anti-slavery writings years ago has had an important effect on his course in Congress. . . . Who can tell how many young minds may be so influenced by the Progress of Religious Ideas as to materially change their career?
I trust I have never impelled a
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mrs. S. B. Shaw
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 who knew how to serve the Lord by standing 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 popular indignation, which was rising in its might!
Mr. A., on the eve of departing for Europe, wrote to me, The North will not really do anything to maintain their own dignity.
See if they do!
I am willing to go abroad, to find some relief from the mental pain that the course of public affairs in th
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Miss Lucy Osgood
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, st
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, July 20, 1856.
I am extremely obliged to you for the loan of Mr. Furness's letter, which was very interesting to me on various accounts.
If I had a head easily turned, I might be in danger of the lunatic asylum from the effects of that portion relating to myself.
To have a man like Mr. Furness pronounce a letter of mine worth Mr. Sumner's having his head broken for, though the phrase be used only in the way of playful hyperbole, is a gust of eulogy enough to upset a light boat.
Luckily, the vessel I sail in is old and heavy, and of late years carries much more ballast than sail.
Still, I confess I was much gratified to know that Mr. Furness liked the letter.
To my own mind, it seemed so altogether inadequate to express the admiration, respect, and gratitude I feel for Mr. Sumner, that I was in great doubt about sending it. Mr. Child assured me that I need have no fears; that Mr. Sumner would undoubtedly be gratified by it, etc.; but my good husband is
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring
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.