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United States (United States) (search for this): chapter 9
ashed breakfast things, cleared the table, walked, read Spinoza a little, then had to fly round, as my dinner was an early one. Picked a grouse, and saw to various matters. Company came, a little early. The room was cold. Hedge, Palfrey, and Alger to dinner. Conversation pleasant, but dinner late, and not well served. Palfrey and Hedge read Parker's Latin epitaph on Chev, amazed at the bad Latinity. In June, 1864, a Russian squadron, sent to show Russia's good — will toward the United States, dropped anchor in Boston Harbor, and hospitable Boston rose up in haste to receive the strangers. Dr. Holmes wrote a song beginning,-- Seabirds of Muscovy, Rest in our waters, which was sung to the Russian national air at a public reception. Our mother for once made no little verse, but she saw a good deal of the Russian officers; gave parties for them, and attended various functions and festivities on board the ships. On Sunday, June 22, she writes:-- To mass on board the Os
Massachusetts (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 9
; But this I know,--the world its plenitude May keep, so I may share thy beggary. J. W. H. After the two real homes, Green Peace and Lawton's Valley, the Chestnut Street house was nearest to our hearts; this, though we were there only three years, and though it was there that we children first saw the face of sorrow. It was an heroic time. The Doctor was in constant touch with the events of the war. He was sent by Governor Andrew to examine conditions of camps and hospitals, in Massachusetts and at the seat of war; he worked as hard on the Sanitary Commission, to which he had been appointed by President Lincoln, as on any other of his multifarious labors: his knowledge of practical warfare and his grasp of situations gave him a foresight of coming events which seemed well-nigh miraculous. When he entered the house, we all felt the electric touch, found ourselves in the circuit of the great current. So, these three years were notable for us all, especially for our mother;
Russia (Russia) (search for this): chapter 9
ggie ill and company to dinner. I washed breakfast things, cleared the table, walked, read Spinoza a little, then had to fly round, as my dinner was an early one. Picked a grouse, and saw to various matters. Company came, a little early. The room was cold. Hedge, Palfrey, and Alger to dinner. Conversation pleasant, but dinner late, and not well served. Palfrey and Hedge read Parker's Latin epitaph on Chev, amazed at the bad Latinity. In June, 1864, a Russian squadron, sent to show Russia's good — will toward the United States, dropped anchor in Boston Harbor, and hospitable Boston rose up in haste to receive the strangers. Dr. Holmes wrote a song beginning,-- Seabirds of Muscovy, Rest in our waters, which was sung to the Russian national air at a public reception. Our mother for once made no little verse, but she saw a good deal of the Russian officers; gave parties for them, and attended various functions and festivities on board the ships. On Sunday, June 22, she w
Newport (Rhode Island, United States) (search for this): chapter 9
had written two-thirds of Proteus. As soon as I was able, I wrote the remaining portion which treats of affection. At Newport I wrote my Introductory Lecture on How Not to Teach Ethics, then Duality of Character, then my first Lecture on Religion. Returned from Newport, I wrote my second and third essays on Religion. I read the six essays of my first course to a large circle of friends at my own house, not asking any payment. This done, I began to write a long essay on Polarity which is ker and my dear Sammy were blended in it. Soon after this the seabirds of Muscovy departed; then came the flitting to Newport, and a summer of steady work. Read Paul in the Valley. Thought of writing a review of his first two epistles from o write a poem for the occasion. This she did joyfully, composing and arranging the stanzas mostly in the train between Newport and Boston. On the day of the celebration, she took an early train for New York: Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes was on the
Bordentown (New Jersey, United States) (search for this): chapter 9
, and that I was trying to nurse him in the dark as I have so often done. I thought that when his little lips had found my breast, something said in my ear, My life's life -the glory of the world. Quoting from my lines on Mary Booth. This woke me with a sudden impression, Thus Nature remembers. She decided this spring to read some of her essays in Washington. There were various difficulties in the way, and she was uncertain of the outcome of the enterprise. She writes:-- I leave Bordentown [the home of her sister Annie] with a resolute, not a sanguine heart. I have no one to stand for me there, Sumner against me, Channing almost unknown to me, everyone else indifferent. I go in obedience to a deep and strong impulse which I do not understand nor explain, but whose bidding I cannot neglect. The satisfaction of having at last obeyed this interior guide is all that keeps me up, for no one, so far as I know, altogether approves of my going. Spite of these doubts and fears,
Boston Harbor (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 9
he table, walked, read Spinoza a little, then had to fly round, as my dinner was an early one. Picked a grouse, and saw to various matters. Company came, a little early. The room was cold. Hedge, Palfrey, and Alger to dinner. Conversation pleasant, but dinner late, and not well served. Palfrey and Hedge read Parker's Latin epitaph on Chev, amazed at the bad Latinity. In June, 1864, a Russian squadron, sent to show Russia's good — will toward the United States, dropped anchor in Boston Harbor, and hospitable Boston rose up in haste to receive the strangers. Dr. Holmes wrote a song beginning,-- Seabirds of Muscovy, Rest in our waters, which was sung to the Russian national air at a public reception. Our mother for once made no little verse, but she saw a good deal of the Russian officers; gave parties for them, and attended various functions and festivities on board the ships. On Sunday, June 22, she writes:-- To mass on board the Oslaba. ... The service was like th
Lawton's Valley (Rhode Island, United States) (search for this): chapter 9
s dowry prove. I know not if I've caught the matchless mood In which impassioned Petrarch sang of thee; But this I know,--the world its plenitude May keep, so I may share thy beggary. J. W. H. After the two real homes, Green Peace and Lawton's Valley, the Chestnut Street house was nearest to our hearts; this, though we were there only three years, and though it was there that we children first saw the face of sorrow. It was an heroic time. The Doctor was in constant touch with the eveme and for many years afterward a superstition about a north light. My eyes had given me some trouble, and I felt obliged to follow my literary work under circumstances most favorable for their use. The exposure of our little farmhouse [at Lawton's Valley] was south and west, and its only north light was derived from a window at the top of the attic stairs. Here was a platform just large enough to give room for a table two feet square. The stairs were shut off from the rest of the house by
William Cullen Bryant (search for this): chapter 9
yet decide what to do with them. Returning to 13 Chestnut Street, she found a multiplicity of work awaiting her. Ethics had to stand aside and make way for Poetry and Philanthropy. New York was to celebrate the seventieth birthday of William Cullen Bryant; she was asked to write a poem for the occasion. This she did joyfully, composing and arranging the stanzas mostly in the train between Newport and Boston. On the day of the celebration, she took an early train for New York: Dr. Olively remembered that we had not taken time to eat our luncheon. George Bancroft met them at the station, carried her trunk himself ( a small one! ), and put her into his own carriage. The reception was in the Century Building. She entered on Mr. Bryant's arm, and sat between him and Mr. Bancroft on the platform. The Journal tells us:-- After Mr. Emerson's remarks my poem was announced. I stepped to the middle of the platform, and read my poem. I was full of it, and read it well, I think
R. W. Emerson (search for this): chapter 9
was so congenial to him. He at once launched forth in his own brilliant vein, and we were within a few miles of our destination when we suddenly remembered that we had not taken time to eat our luncheon. George Bancroft met them at the station, carried her trunk himself ( a small one! ), and put her into his own carriage. The reception was in the Century Building. She entered on Mr. Bryant's arm, and sat between him and Mr. Bancroft on the platform. The Journal tells us:-- After Mr. Emerson's remarks my poem was announced. I stepped to the middle of the platform, and read my poem. I was full of it, and read it well, I think, as every one heard me, and the large room was crammed. The last two verses — not the bestwere applauded.... This was, I suppose, the greatest public honor of my life. I record it for my grandchildren. The November pages of the Journal are blank, but on that for November 21 is pasted a significant note. It is from the secretary of the National Sa
Ernest Schelling (search for this): chapter 9
must speak her message. She says in her Reminiscences : In the days of which I now write, it was borne in upon me (as the Friends say) that I had much to say to my day and generation which could not and should not be communicated in rhyme, or even in rhythm. The character of the message, too, was changing. In the anguish of bereavement she sought relief in study, her lifelong resource. Religion and philosophy went hand in hand with her. She read Spinoza eagerly: read Fichte, Hegel, Schelling; finally, found in Immanuel Kant a prophet and a friend. But it was not enough for her to receive; she must also give out: her nature was radiant. She must formulate a philosophy of her own, and must at least offer it to the world. In September, 1863, she writes to her sister Louisa, My Ethics are now the joke of my family, and Flossy or any child, wishing a second helping, will say: Is it ethical, Mamma? Too much of my life, indeed, runs in this channel. I can only hope that the th
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