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Elizabeth's Island (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
rnamental trees and flowering plants; has miniature nurseries of young rose-trees in his greenhouses; imports all the new plants from France and Belgium and sends them all over the South and West. This he enjoys intensely and thinks it teaches him more than all the books in the world, though he finds time for these too .... I preached morning and evening; in the afternoon it rained, but we walked into the woods which stretch from near his house some thirteen miles to the shore opposite Naushon island; in these woods there are deer, which come and drink at the many little lakes. Worcester, December 31, 1852 Last night Theodore Parker lectured here, and we tea'd with him; he is, you know, the most eloquent talker living; nobody compares to him in that; some are more original, perhaps, in talking; but he knows everything, and pours it out in the most simple and delightful way. His lecture was wonderful as a specimen of popularizing information and thought; in this he has no equal in
Concord (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
kept recurring to me as I sat in his pretty study, full of books and engravings .... He has written two perfectly charming essays on Emerson and Hawthorne for the lovely illustrated Homes of American Authors ; a most racy and charming picture of Concord and its peculiar life. I read these at the bookstore afterward with great delight. . . . I learned one good fact; that the arms of the Wentworths are three cats' heads, which explains my tendencies [fondness for milk]. This evening I haveut the books she should read: We see how few people live in Nature by the rarity of any real glimpse of it in their books; almost all is' second-hand and vague. ... The only thoroughly outdoor book I have ever seen is Thoreau's Week on the Concord and Merrimack rivers, which is fascinating beyond compare to any one who knows Nature, though the religion and philosophy are of the wildest. He has led a strange Indian life, the author, and his errors and extremes are on the opposite from mos
Brattleboro (Vermont, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
verybody applauded, much to his surprise. They say his speech did more than our Convention. I had a note from Mr. Sumner the other day, who thinks that Virginia will secede, first or last, and take all the States except perhaps Maryland, which can only be held by force. If it were not for the necessity of keeping Washington and the Mississippi, it would be well to have it so, but since those must be kept, it is hard to predict the end. I think however that you need feel no anxiety in Brattleboroa; I don't think the battering-rams (of which the old lady in the Revolutionary times, according to Rose Terry, was so afraid, her only ideas of warfare being based on the Old Testament and Josephus) will get so far. And I think there is more danger of compromise than war, at any rate. I don't know whether you are aware of an impression which exists in many minds, but which I cannot attach any weight to, as yet, that the seceding States will prefer to abolish slavery, under the direction
Dedham (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
ator, and God may grant you the privilege of being an Abo. Worcester, February, 1859 George Curtis lectured here last week. With the most delicious elocution we have-except perhaps Wendell Phillips's — and a fascinating rhetoric and an uncorrupted moral integrity, he showed yet a want of intellectual vigor and training which will always prevent him from being a great man. Yet he perfectly fascinated everybody. March, 1859 My lectures are over [for the season]. One of the last was at Dedham, and I stayed at Edmund Quincy's charming, English-looking place. Did you ever hear of an English traveller who, looking out of Mr. Ticknor's window, pointed out as the only two Americans he had seen who looked like gentlemen, W. Phillips and Edmund Quincy? Yet June of the same year found the writer in Pennsylvania. Worcester, June, 1859 I got home from Pennsylvania on Friday morning. Whittier was in the same region a month before me and he said, God might have made a more beautifu
Hartford (Connecticut, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
w-storm driving across it --reminding me of Sarah Clarke's brown etchings. They tell me since that it was not a prairie, but it was as good as one to me. At last we got to Windsor, where the ferry-boat was slowly toiling through the ice, and I preferred, with many others, to walk across, carpetbag in hand, and thus I reached Detroit at 3 P. M. January, 1860 Dearest Mother: I have not written very punctually, but it is from wandering up and down the world lecturing. ... I enjoyed Hartford. . . . There I saw Rose Terry. She lives in a sort of moated grange a mile out of town, an old house with an air of decay, once lovely among its fields and shrubbery, now more lonely with the city grown up to it. There she has lived for sixteen years with an old gray father and a sister more finely organized and invalid than herself, and the healthy tone of the majority of her stories seemed more surprising than the weirdness of the minority. She seems seven and twenty, tall and sallow, w
Kansas (Kansas, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
1859 I got home from Pennsylvania on Friday morning. Whittier was in the same region a month before me and he said, God might have made a more beautiful region than Chester County--but he never did. A beautiful rolling country, luxuriant as Kansas and highly cultivated as Brookline; horses and cattle pasturing in rich clover fields; hedges of hawthorn; groves of oak, walnut, pine, and vast columnar tulip trees towering up to heaven and holding out their innumerable cups of nectar to the goe can prepare for a peaceful and dignified policy. A few years later the writer of the above was fighting to preserve the Union! This was written after the brutal attack on Sumner in the Senate Worcester, January 9, 1857 I had various Kansas and other experiences, saw old Captain Brown, but not Governor Robinson. Captain B. expects quiet till spring, and then another invasion, and is trying for means to repel it. The best thing I did, you will think, was to see Mr. Sumner at the
Nahant (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
pany tents, with the walls all hung with little carpetbags; and elderly women (not hanging up) packing up duds with tears streaming. . . . I, willing to join in any innocent amusement, took a hand at a round game of spiritual rappings, but withdrew (as usual) with small winnings. It seemed queer to be in the midst of these two parties of seekers after the mysteries of another sphere, and both rather forgetting this world for it; and as I came out of the house to the dim evening view of Nahant and the sea horizon, I was rather glad that we do not learn too fast, but have time to digest as we go along. Again, he wrote: I had a nice time on Sunday at Plymouth. They have a sort of come-outer society there, partially Buddhist, you would perhaps think, who are having a series of meetings on Sundays, at which different persons officiate, sometimes clerical, sometimes lay. They meet at Leyden Hall (a good Pilgrim Association) and have for their motto old John Robinson's saying to
Canada (Canada) (search for this): chapter 2
Nothing has so strengthened slavery as the timid submission of the slaves thus far; but their constant communication with Canada has been teaching them self-confidence and resistance. In Missouri especially this single alarm will shorten slavery by tely entertaining, but childishly egotistical and monopolizing. Lecturing sometimes took the writer as far afield as Canada. Montreal, November, 1857 . . . We crossed the long bridge to Rouse's Point in a wild wind, and the hotel, which is b the record continues: What's the use of going to England and using up excitement, all at once, when one can come to Canada and get enough here? I am as distinctly a foreigner here as in Sebastopol, and circumstances have enabled me to enjoy th be sure, water is what people come there for. I am now writing in the Institute News Room and Library. Little bluff Canadian boys in fur caps are coming in for books to my kind and busy friend Mr. Milne (pronounced Mellen) .. . and a group of st
Lynn (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
d superblike, as Mrs. James well says. I never saw an actress so far removed from the audience; even when called out, she ignores them and her bow seems a part of the play. The acting is more real than anything I ever saw, and the character being detestable, she appears so. The serpent-like begins with her body, which has a joint in every inch of it, like a snake's; every motion is a glide, and her whole form expresses more than anybody's else face. August 16, 1862 Yesterday I went to Lynn, exchanging with Sam Johnson. After tea I went up to a camp meeting of Millerites near there, on a beautiful lake. It was a strange scene, wagons, horses, dogs, rowdy young men, and in the centre a great tent with rows of pale, eager listeners squatting in semicircles among the trees, with tears and Amens. The speakers were earnest and vivid, the people less excited and less intelligent than I expected, but it was the close of the meeting. I found all the types of character I expected the
Chester (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 2
dmund Quincy's charming, English-looking place. Did you ever hear of an English traveller who, looking out of Mr. Ticknor's window, pointed out as the only two Americans he had seen who looked like gentlemen, W. Phillips and Edmund Quincy? Yet June of the same year found the writer in Pennsylvania. Worcester, June, 1859 I got home from Pennsylvania on Friday morning. Whittier was in the same region a month before me and he said, God might have made a more beautiful region than Chester County--but he never did. A beautiful rolling country, luxuriant as Kansas and highly cultivated as Brookline; horses and cattle pasturing in rich clover fields; hedges of hawthorn; groves of oak, walnut, pine, and vast columnar tulip trees towering up to heaven and holding out their innumerable cups of nectar to the gods above the clouds; picturesque great houses of brick and stone, gabled and irregular, overgrown with honeysuckle and wistaria, and such a race of men and women as the Quaker s
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