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Quaker (Missouri, United States) (search for this): chapter 10
rhood. It was but a short walk or drive of a few miles from my residence to his home; or, better still, it implied a sail or row up the beautiful river, passing beneath the suspension bridge at Deer Island, to where the woods called The Laurels spread themselves on one side, and the twin villages of Salisbury and Amesbury on the other. ... To me, who sought Whittier for his poetry as well as his politics, nothing could have been more delightful than his plain abode with its exquisite Quaker neatness. His placid mother, rejoicing in her two gifted children, presided with few words at the hospitable board, whose tablecloth and napkins rivalled her soul in whiteness; and with her was the brilliant Lizzie, so absolutely the reverse, or complement, of her brother that they seemed between them to make one soul. She was as plain in feature as he was handsome, except that she had a pair of great, luminous dark eyes, always flashing with fun or soft with emotion, and often changing wi
Rochdale (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 10
s, if genuine, usually have rather a predilection for fighters. Garibaldi was one of Whittier's heroes, so was General Gordon, so was young Colonel Shaw; and so was John Bright, who fought with words only. Whittier wrote at his death to Mrs. Fields-- Spring is here to-day, worm, birdful. .... It seems strange that I am alive to welcome her when so many have passed away with the winter, and among them that stalwartest of Englishmen, John Bright, sleeping now in the daisied grounds of Rochdale, never more to move the world with his surpassing eloquence. How I regret that I have never seen him! We had much in common in our religious faith, our hatred of war and oppression. His great genius seemed to me to be always held firmly in hand by a sense of duty, and by the practical common sense of a shrewd man of business. He fought through life like an old knight-errant, but without enthusiasm. He had no personal ideals. I remember once how he remonstrated with me for my admiratio
Deer Island (Canada) (search for this): chapter 10
ho thought that Sir Walter Scott might have been sic a respectable mon had he stuck to his original trade of law advocate. I will borrow from what I have elsewhere written a picture of the Whittier household as I saw it, more than fifty years ago, when residing at Newburyport in his neighbourhood. It was but a short walk or drive of a few miles from my residence to his home; or, better still, it implied a sail or row up the beautiful river, passing beneath the suspension bridge at Deer Island, to where the woods called The Laurels spread themselves on one side, and the twin villages of Salisbury and Amesbury on the other. ... To me, who sought Whittier for his poetry as well as his politics, nothing could have been more delightful than his plain abode with its exquisite Quaker neatness. His placid mother, rejoicing in her two gifted children, presided with few words at the hospitable board, whose tablecloth and napkins rivalled her soul in whiteness; and with her was the b
Amesbury (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 10
was once expressing regrets for his ill health, in talking with one of the leading citizens of Amesbury, and found that my companion could not agree with me; he thought that Whittier's ill health ha woods called The Laurels spread themselves on one side, and the twin villages of Salisbury and Amesbury on the other. ... To me, who sought Whittier for his poetry as well as his politics, nothing friend — and occasional enemy — of all literary people, Rufus Wilmot Griswold, of New York:-- Amesbury, 21st June, 1850. My dear fr. Griswold:--I learn from my friend F. W. Kellogg that Alice andst so near and not see them. Dost ever come to Boston? I should be very glad to see thee at Amesbury. I have a pleasant and grateful recollection of our acquaintance in N. Y. and Boston. I shallp to that ideal? And when we need something higher, Infinite Wisdom will supply our needs. Amesbury, like Concord, had its individual oddities; and the two poets liked to compare notes upon them.
Salisbury, N. C. (North Carolina, United States) (search for this): chapter 10
of law advocate. I will borrow from what I have elsewhere written a picture of the Whittier household as I saw it, more than fifty years ago, when residing at Newburyport in his neighbourhood. It was but a short walk or drive of a few miles from my residence to his home; or, better still, it implied a sail or row up the beautiful river, passing beneath the suspension bridge at Deer Island, to where the woods called The Laurels spread themselves on one side, and the twin villages of Salisbury and Amesbury on the other. ... To me, who sought Whittier for his poetry as well as his politics, nothing could have been more delightful than his plain abode with its exquisite Quaker neatness. His placid mother, rejoicing in her two gifted children, presided with few words at the hospitable board, whose tablecloth and napkins rivalled her soul in whiteness; and with her was the brilliant Lizzie, so absolutely the reverse, or complement, of her brother that they seemed between them to
Salem (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 10
at twilight and found him lying on the lounge, watching the flitting shadows, and repeating aloud from some favourite author, generally Scott or Burns. His mood and conversation at such times were particularly delightful. The beautiful poem, Burning Driftwood was doubtless inspired by such experiences. Pickard, II. 745. One of the very best delineations of Whittier by one of those who approached him on the public or semi-public side is that written by the Hon. Robert S. Rantoul of Salem, Mass.:-- Mr. Whittier was self-contained. In the company of persons whom he did not care for — who could not draw him out — his mind seemed to furnish him with almost nothing to say. He had no small talk. Where there was nothing in common he could be as remote and silent as a mountain peak .... For himself, he was transparent in his expressions and he sought the communion of those only who met him on his own ground. Insincerity was incivility .... He could no more face a mixed compa
Newburyport (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 10
a necessary evil, did not seem to have occurred to my informant. Had he himself lost his health and been unable to sell groceries, who knows but he too might have taken up with the Muses? It suggested the Edinburgh citizen who thought that Sir Walter Scott might have been sic a respectable mon had he stuck to his original trade of law advocate. I will borrow from what I have elsewhere written a picture of the Whittier household as I saw it, more than fifty years ago, when residing at Newburyport in his neighbourhood. It was but a short walk or drive of a few miles from my residence to his home; or, better still, it implied a sail or row up the beautiful river, passing beneath the suspension bridge at Deer Island, to where the woods called The Laurels spread themselves on one side, and the twin villages of Salisbury and Amesbury on the other. ... To me, who sought Whittier for his poetry as well as his politics, nothing could have been more delightful than his plain abode
Concord (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 10
said Whittier. I suppose thee would admit that Jesus Christ is the highest development our world has seen? Yes, Yes, but not the highest it will see. Does thee think the world has yet reached the ideals the Christ has set for mankind? No, no, said Emerson: I think not. Then is it not the part of wisdom to be content with what has been given us, till we have lived up to that ideal? And when we need something higher, Infinite Wisdom will supply our needs. Amesbury, like Concord, had its individual oddities; and the two poets liked to compare notes upon them. Whittier had a neighbour whose original remarks he loved to repeat, and Emerson once said, That man ought to read Plato, and offered him a volume through Whittier. It was kept for a while and then returned with the remark, There are some good things in that book. I find that this Mr. Plato has a good many of my ideas. Whittier gave to Mrs. Claflin, also, this account of his only advance toward personal i
Massachusetts (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 10
uct Mr. Whittier from his rooms in Boston on the morning of the Music Hall convention which put Robinson forward for the defeat of Butler, and I was specially charged to place him in a conspicuous seat near the front of the platform, that all Massachusetts might see that he was with us. By dint of much entreaty and persuasion I finally prevailed. No man was better entitled to a high seat in the party sanhedrim at that time, nor more worthy to be held up as the high priest of Massachusetts RepuMassachusetts Republicanism. But the proceedings were scarcely opened when I found his chair was vacant. He had stolen away to a hiding-place beside the great organ, where he could see and hear without being discovered, and the convention from that time on, so far as its visual faculties availed, was without its poet. We have, through Mrs. Claflin, also Whittier's own reports as to his personal conversations with fellow-authors. For instance, as he was driving one day with Emerson, the latter pointed out
Giuseppe Garibaldi (search for this): chapter 10
e. They would repeat, says Mrs. Claflin, the most marvellous stories of ghostly improbabilities, apparently for the time being believing every word. With Mrs. Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward, who had written on the possible employments of another life, he would discuss that theme with a relish, but would add, Elizabeth, thee would not be happy in heaven unless thee could go missionary to the other place, now and then. Quakers, if genuine, usually have rather a predilection for fighters. Garibaldi was one of Whittier's heroes, so was General Gordon, so was young Colonel Shaw; and so was John Bright, who fought with words only. Whittier wrote at his death to Mrs. Fields-- Spring is here to-day, worm, birdful. .... It seems strange that I am alive to welcome her when so many have passed away with the winter, and among them that stalwartest of Englishmen, John Bright, sleeping now in the daisied grounds of Rochdale, never more to move the world with his surpassing eloquence. Ho
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