*American Men of Letters * 
 
 WHITTIER 
 
 
 
 
 *= 
 
lp3 
 
 GoLDWiN Smith Haul, 
 
 BOUGHT FROM THE 
 
 SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 (kAr.^..-^..^.. iP.mpI 
 
 1 192 
 
John Greenleaf Whittier / 
 
 3 1924 014 213 098 
 
y 
 
 ^y 
 
 F 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924014213098 
 
ametfcan jwien of letters 
 
 JOHN GKEENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE EICE CARPENTER 
 
T-c-^^^^^JelXl^ 
 
American ^m of %etttt^ 
 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 GEORGE EICE CARPENTER 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW TOEK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 (iCde Slitaer^itre ^n^^, <Cam6tibge 
 1906 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY GEORGE RICE CARPENTER 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Fublisked October, igo^ 
 
" DUle : Madonna, lo suo core e stato 
 Con sifermatafede, 
 Ch' a voi servir lo pronto ogni pensiero : 
 Tostofu vostro, e mai non s' h smagato." 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The printed sources for the life of Whittier are 
 the volumes of "William S. Kennedy (1881 and 
 1892) ; of Francis H. Underwood (1883), writ- 
 ten with Whittier's consent and in part with his 
 help ; the authorized biography by Samuel T. 
 Pickard (1894), which contains virtually all the 
 matter included in the earlier volumes as well as 
 much fresh material; and the little books of 
 reminiscences by Mrs. Mary B. Claflin (1893) 
 and Mrs. James T. Fields (1893). I am deeply 
 indebted to all. these sources; to the admirable 
 biography of William Lloyd Garrison, prepared 
 by his children ; to Mr. Pickard, who kindly al- 
 lowed me to examine his collection of such of 
 Whittier's early verses as have not been repub- 
 lished ; to Whittier's cousins, the Misses John- 
 son and Mrs. Woodman, who furnished me with 
 much new material; to Mr. Charles Francis 
 Adams, who sent me copies of Whittier's let- 
 ters to John Quincy Adams ; to Mr. William H. 
 Hayne, who sent me copies of Whittier's letters 
 to his father, Paul Hamilton Hayne; to Judge 
 
viii PREFACE 
 
 Cowley, of Lowell, Mass., who found for me the 
 unique file of the " Middlesex Standard ; " and 
 to many other kind friends and correspondents 
 who have patiently borne my many questionings. 
 From the mass of new and old material I have 
 done my best to reconstruct the essential Whit- 
 tier — the heritage, the environment, the tem- 
 perament, the motives that constituted him and 
 none other ; and I think I have been at least suc- 
 cessful in determining, to an extent not before 
 attained, the course of evolution of his literary 
 art. If I am wrong in any of my generaliza- 
 tions, the fault wiU, I hope, be in some measure 
 due to the comparative incompleteness of the 
 material. Whittier was modest and reticent, car- 
 rying these virtues almost to an extreme ; but it 
 would be strange if there did not somewhere 
 exist very considerable bodies of letters and 
 reminiscences that would aid us in tracing fur- 
 ther the development of his genius. On whoever 
 holds any such precious and perishable material, 
 whether in the form of written documents, of 
 direct memories, or of oral tradition, I beg to 
 urge the imperative duty of having it at once 
 examined, and of taking proper measures to 
 secure its use and preservation. 
 
 G. R. C. 
 
 September, 190S. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. FAOB 
 
 I. Boyhood, 1807-1828 1 
 
 n. Boyhood, 1821-1828 25 
 
 in. The Young Journalist and Politician, 
 
 1829-1832 53 
 
 IV. The Young Abolitionist, 1833-1840 . 103 
 V. Reformer and Man of Letters, 1840- 
 
 1860 174 
 
 VI. Poet, 1860-1892 255 
 
 APPENDIX 
 I. Whittier's Autobiographical Letter . 297 
 11. List of Whittier's Writings . . . 304 
 
 Index 309 
 
 The portrait which forms the frontispiece to this volnme is 
 from an ambrotype taken about 1857, in the possession of Mr. 
 Samuel T. Piokard. 
 
JOHN GEEENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 BOYHOOD 
 
 1807-1828 
 
 John Geeenleaf Whittiee, journalist, poli- 
 tician, reformer, and poet, was born December 17, 
 1807, in the east parish of Haverhill, in Essex 
 County, Massachusetts. In the early nineteenth 
 century. New England, that part of the land in 
 which intellectual and spiritual life among the 
 common people had been most continuous and 
 vigorous, was thoroughly fertilized, as it were, by 
 genei'ations of mental activity, and was ready to 
 bear the natural fruit of the vitalized soil, — 
 the man of letters, the man who fashions, in vis- 
 ible speech and in the mysterious forms of the 
 imagination, the latent ideals and aspirations of 
 his dumb fellows. And men of letters sprang 
 up in abundance, great and small, in all the ter- 
 ritory of these ancient colonies, and especially 
 in the eldest, Massachusetts, from the almost 
 solitary Bryant at the western border to the 
 
2 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 larger company of the older eastern counties. 
 Of these eastern counties none was more fer- 
 tile in this rare but inevitable human product 
 than Essex, where Whittier and Hawthorne were 
 bom and lived. 
 
 The members of this New England band were 
 variously endowed, and were in many fashions 
 typical of the thought and life of their kin, of 
 their neighbors, of their native towns, counties, 
 and states, and to some extent of the country 
 at large. Of them all Whittier was the most 
 widely and profoundly and permanently repre- 
 sentative of the common people of his locality. 
 His family had lived in that county since 1638, 
 on that farm since 1647, in that house since 
 1688, and only a few years of his long life were 
 spent outside of that district. No essential con- 
 stituent of his physical or intellectual nature 
 separated him from the great mass of his fel- 
 lows. In his boyhood he toiled with his hands, 
 he read by the fireside, he drew his slender 
 formal education from the district school and the 
 town academy. His habits, his circumstances, 
 and all Ms interests bound him to the land and 
 the life of the people. Bryant early withdrew 
 himself from his simple native surroundings to 
 the complex environment of a large mercantile 
 city. Emerson came of a long line of men spe- 
 cially educated and set apart for a learned pro- 
 
BOYHOOD 3 
 
 fession : it was natural that lie should be a pio- 
 neer in thought, the prophet who led the people 
 from afar. Longfellow and Lowell were men 
 of a college community, fed on the new learning 
 of Europe ; Holmes was a man of a special city 
 and a special caste, — circumstances which largely 
 isolated and localized his sytnpathies and his 
 tastes ; Hawthorne, though he was born of an 
 old, permanently localized stock, and lived in a 
 small city, was so widely different from his fel- 
 lows, so distinctly solitary, as not to be imme- 
 diately representative of them. Whittier alone 
 was country born and country bred, a country 
 man in education and sympathies : a Haverhill 
 boy, an Amesbury man, he never broke the 
 slightest of the ties that bound him to his family 
 and his neighbors. His pOwer of expression 
 was his own, but his life and his thoughts were 
 as theirs, and he thus became directly typical of 
 his town and his district, and indirectly typical 
 of all the country folk of his race and his nation 
 who lived the same simple life, based on the old 
 polity of the Puritan community. In the bio- 
 graphy of such a man, unique among the greater 
 New England men of letters, we shall not find 
 ourselves concerned with any highly specialized 
 social or professional group of American writers, 
 or with native intelligence as modified by for- 
 eign travel and by the influence of European 
 
4 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 philosophy or letters, but rather with the undi- 
 verted development of a peculiarly native writer, 
 under the stimulus only of his natural environ- 
 ment and of the great local or national forces 
 to which he and the mass of his fellows were 
 subjected. 
 
 The tale of Whittier's ancestry is not long or 
 rich in details. Like Burns, like Carlyle, like 
 Defoe, he sprang directly from a long line of la- 
 boring men, without the intermediate generation 
 or more of sedentary life which brought such dif- 
 ferent influences to bear on Bryant, Longfellow, 
 and Lowell. The emigrant Whittier, Thomas, 
 was perhaps a Huguenot, though there is little 
 ground for thinking that his family was recently 
 of French extraction, for the English surname 
 — pronounced Whicher, as is the name of a hill 
 in Amesbury which lay in the old Whittier 
 grant — may be traced back to a considerably 
 older period. Thomas was apparently an ideal 
 pioneer. He came to the new land as a lad of 
 eighteen ; he was of great size and power ; he 
 married young and had many children ; he 
 played an honest and manly part in those trou- 
 blous times, when energy of body and simplicity 
 and sincerity of mind were of more value to the 
 community than riches or learning. It was in 
 1638 that he came to New England, with his 
 uncles, John and Henry Rolfe, — the latter of 
 
BOYHOOD 5 
 
 whom willed him the hive of bees which the 
 early records carefully specify, — and a distant 
 relative, Ruth Green, whom he married shortly 
 afterward. He first settled in Salisbury near 
 the Powow River, whose falls were to turn the 
 mills of Amesbury, and was representative of 
 that town in the General Court. He soon moved 
 across the Merrimao to Newbury, the mother 
 town of that district, and then in 1647 back 
 again to the northern side of the beautiful river, 
 this time to the young town of Haverhill. Here 
 he was allotted land, — probably containing some 
 • of the natural meadow land, precious to the old 
 settlers, — on the road from Salisbury that he 
 had helped to lay out, and on the banks of Coun- 
 try Brook, some four or five miles from the little 
 frontier settlement, from which it was separated 
 by a range of broad-backed hills. He built him 
 a log house, and threw himself into the long task, 
 not to be completed for several generations, of 
 clearing the wilderness and cultivating the rocky 
 but fertile soil. He had ten children, of whom 
 five were boys, each over six feet in height. His 
 name occurs from time to time in the town re- 
 cords, and he was apparently a man to be trusted 
 and depended on. He was one of a committee 
 to determine the bounds of the plantation, and 
 as an outlying settler he helped in determining 
 and establishing the various garrison houses, in 
 
6 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 which the isolated might find nightly shelter 
 when there was danger of attack by Indians. 
 But it is related that he and his family, secure 
 in their integrity, did not avail themselves of the 
 protection of a fortified house not far distant, 
 and though often visited by Savages, were never 
 harmed.^ The only censure associated with the 
 pioneer was one that now serves as a source of 
 praise. In 1652 complaint was made against 
 Joseph Peasley and Thomas Macy, of the part 
 of Salisbury in which Whittier had first settled 
 and of which he was now not a distant neighbor, 
 for exhorting people on the Sabbath in the ab-* 
 sence of the minister, and a law was passed re- 
 straining them from this evil practice. This 
 was in the very earliest days of the Quakers, 
 before their missionaries had come to New Eng- 
 land ; and though both men afterwards became 
 Quakers, there is no ground for believing that 
 there was then aught against them save that ter- 
 rible jealousy of the priesthood, unhappy cause 
 of many evils, against whatever seemed to break 
 down its privileges. At all events the brave 
 Robert Pike, one of the noblest men of the dis- 
 trict, openly declared the act to be one contrary 
 to the liberties of the country, both civil and 
 
 ^ The terrible Indian raids to which the little frontier Til- 
 lage was exposed are well described by Whittier in his " Boy- 
 Captives," Prose Works, ii. 395. 
 
BOYHOOD 7 
 
 ecclesiastical. He was therefore disfranchised, 
 disabled from holding any public office, bound 
 to good behavior, and fined twenty marks. This 
 unjust sentence caused a great sensation in the 
 neighboring towns, and many petitions were sent 
 to the General Court in his behalf, including 
 one from Haverhill, signed by Whittier. The 
 inexorable and priest-ridden lawgivers made some 
 show of punishing even the petitioners, and it is 
 said that Whittier was deprived of his franchise, 
 which was restored only in 1666. 
 
 About 1688, at the age of sixty-eight, Thomas 
 Whittier built himself a second and more sub- 
 stantial house, half a mile or so from the first, and 
 still on the road from Haverhill to Salisbury, in 
 a wooded fold of the hulking hill that shuts off 
 that part of the town from Haverhill. In 1696, 
 when the old man died, the children had appar- 
 ently scattered to homes of their own, after the 
 fashion that has built up our land so rapidly, 
 save the youngest son, Joseph, who, following 
 another old custom, remained on the farm. He 
 was born in 1669, and in 1694 he had married 
 Mary Peasley, daughter of Joseph Peasley, 
 whose fine old homestead, built of bricks brought 
 over from England, still stands a few miles 
 away by the riverside. Mary's grandfather was 
 the unlicensed exhorter whose rights the elder 
 Whittier had upheld, and who had afterwards 
 
8 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 become a member of the Society of Friends. The 
 bitter persecutions of the Quakers by the tyranni- 
 cal clergy had by this time been stopped by the 
 application of sound English law, but they were 
 still a people set apart and not yet free from 
 suspicion, and Joseph's marriage to a Quakeress 
 is evidence that he was sufficiently liberal to 
 adopt her faith. 
 
 The youngest son of Joseph's nine children, 
 likewise a Joseph,^ was born in 1716, married 
 Sarah Greenleaf of the neighboring town of 
 West Newbury in 1739, and, like his father be- 
 fore him, stayed by the homestead. The young- 
 est sonsVf eleven children were John and Moses, 
 who at his death bought the interest of the other 
 heirs in the estate and remained on the farm. 
 John was born in 1760. At the age of forty- 
 
 lln "The Great Ipswich Fright" (Prose Works, ii. 385) 
 Whittier gives a pleasant anecdote of the imperturbability of 
 this old Quaker. 
 
 "AH through that memorable night the terror swept onward 
 towards the north with a speed which seems almost miracu- 
 lous, producing everywhere the same results. At midnight a 
 horseman, clad only in shirt and breeches, dashed by our 
 grandfather's door, in Haverhill, twenty miles up the river. 
 ' Turn out ! Get a musket ! Turn out ! ' he shouted ; ' the 
 regulars are landing on Plum Island ! ' * I 'm glad of it,' re- 
 sponded the old gentleman from his chamber window ; * I wish 
 they were all there, and obliged to stay there.' When it is 
 understood that Plum Island is little more than a naked sand- 
 ridge, the benevolence of this wish can be readily appreci- 
 ated." 
 
BOYHOOD 9 
 
 four he married Abigail Hussey, twenty-one 
 years younger than himself. Their four chil- 
 dren were, Mary, born in 1806 ; John Greenleaf, 
 born in 1807 ; Matthew Franklin, born in 1812 ; 
 and Elizabeth Hussey, born in 1815. 
 
 Such were the links of life that bound Whit- 
 tier to the soil, — a great-great-grandfather, a 
 giant pioneer, who hewed out a homestead in the 
 wilderness ; a great-grandfather, a grandfather, 
 and a father, all younger sons, who each married 
 a farmer's daughter and kept the homestead in 
 his turn. We know little of what they did, 
 nothing of what they said and thought ; it was a 
 silent ancestry, a typical New England ancestry 
 of toil and independence and content. Indeed, 
 in the case of his immediate parents, the record 
 is not much fuller. His father had married 
 late ; was a prompt, decisive man ; had in his 
 earlier days been to and fro between Essex 
 County and Canada for common barter; was, 
 like his forefathers, a trustworthy man and just, 
 holding minor town offices with approval, re- 
 spected in his religious society. An old man 
 when his sons were lads, he had learned the 
 farmer's wisdom that overrules the rash impulses 
 of youth and shuts out vain fancies, and he 
 warned his boys against the foUy of trying to be 
 aught but what the generations before him had 
 been. It was the mother, — far younger than 
 
10 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 her husband, — from whom Whittier and his sis- 
 ter Elizabeth drew their brilliant eyes and emo- 
 tional sensitiveness,-' who understood best the 
 son and cherished his ambitions. She was a 
 beautiful and godly woman, full of a saintly 
 peace and an overflowing human kindness which 
 made her a very type of her religion. 
 
 Such were the qualities that were Whittier's 
 physical heritage or early presented for his imi- 
 tation. They were in the main conservative in- 
 fluences, such as would attach him to the seven- 
 teenth century homestead, so well founded and 
 so well protected. Physically, it was a robust 
 heritage, for was he not the son of an active 
 and resolute farmer, of a race of sturdy pioneers, 
 save that, perhaps, as a late-born son of a line of 
 younger sons, his was a more delicate and less 
 powerful frame, of the nervous type that wears 
 long but must labor less unremittingly. In- 
 tellectually, it was a sincere and trustworthy 
 heritage. He would have been false to all tra- 
 dition, had he, with such a past, been a careless 
 citizen, a faithless friend, or an unworthy man. 
 In all respects it was a typical New England 
 
 ^ It is usually said that the mother was a descendant of 
 Stephen Bachiler, the famous old Portsmouth preacher, whose 
 striking appearance was transmitted to many of his posterity, 
 among them both Whittier and Webster. But the genealogy 
 in Whittier's case has been proved false. See N. E. Histori- 
 cal and Genealogical Register, 1896, i. 295. 
 
BOYHOOD 11 
 
 heritage, and his birth had seemingly given him 
 neither more nor less than the common lot of his 
 fellows. 
 
 We may now look with more definiteness to 
 the surroundings of his earlier years, which 
 moulded the young spirit before it had grown 
 strong enough to have its own individuality, 
 while he was still highly receptive, without per- 
 sonal choice, of the influences acting upon him. 
 
 In later life, replying to questions as to his 
 early life, Whittier said : — 
 
 " I think at the age of which thy note in- 
 quires I found about equal satisfaction in an old 
 rural home, with the shifting panorama of the 
 seasons, in reading the few books within my 
 reach, and dreaming of something wonderful 
 and grand somewhere in the future. Neither 
 change nor loss had then made me realize the 
 uncertainty of all earthly things. I felt secure 
 of my mother's love, and dreamed of losing 
 nothing and gaining much. ... I had at that 
 time a great thirst for knowledge and little 
 means to gratify it. The beauty of outward 
 nature early impressed me, and the moral and 
 spiritual beauty of the holy lives I read of in the 
 Bible and other good books also affected me 
 with a sense of my falling short and longing for 
 a better state." ^ 
 
 1 Fickard, Life, i. 26. 
 
12 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 The region in which Whittier spent his life is 
 singularly charming and, it may be added, very 
 typical of New England. Remote from the life 
 of a large city, — so properly stimulating to the 
 mature, so improperly stimulating to the young, 
 — the district was yet near enough to a port of 
 considerable importance to make a child sensible 
 of the outer world and its currents of trade. It 
 presented an admirable diversity of prospect. 
 Within sight of the mountains, within sound of 
 the sea, it had its forests and intervales, its 
 rounded glacial hills, its marshes and meadow 
 land and orchards and planted fields, its beauti- 
 ful lakes and its noble river. Besides these out- 
 ward charms the district had to the reflective 
 mind another attraction : it was his. His ances- 
 tors had lived there since first the wilderness 
 path was trodden by white men ; it had a wealth 
 of impressive local legend and history ; and none 
 of all this associative influence was lost on the 
 lad. Many of his poems stick so closely to the 
 familiar landscape that only the native can take 
 in their full meaning, and the stranger must 
 read them map in hand ; and his prose sketches 
 look back to the old scenes. In them he recalls 
 more specifically than in his verse the scenes im- 
 pressed so deeply on his early recollections : — 
 
 "The old farmhouse nestling in its valley; 
 hiUs stretching off to the south and green mead- 
 
BOYHOOD 13 
 
 ows to the east ; the small stream which came 
 noisily down its ravine, washing the old garden- 
 wall and softly lapping on fallen stones and 
 mossy roots of beeches and hemlocks ; the tall 
 sentinel poplars at the gateway ; the oak forest, 
 sweeping unbroken to the northern horizon ; the 
 grass-grown carriage-path, with its rude and 
 crazy bridge, — the dear old landscape of my. 
 boyhood lies outstretched before me like a da- 
 guerreotype from that picture within, which I 
 have borne with me in all my wanderings." ^ 
 
 " Our old homestead (the house was very old 
 for a new country, having been built about the 
 time that the Prince of Orange drove out James 
 the Second) nestled under a long range of hills 
 which stretched off to the west. It was sur- 
 rounded by woods in all directions save to the 
 southeast, where a break in the leafy wall re- 
 vealed a vista of low green meadows, picturesque 
 with wooded islands and jutting capes of upland. 
 Through these a small brook, noisy enough as it 
 foamed, rippled, and laughed down its rocky 
 falls by our garden-side, wound, silently and 
 scarcely visible, to a still larger stream, known 
 as the Country Brook. This brook in its turn, 
 after doing duty at two or three saw and grist 
 mills, the clack of which we could hear in stiU 
 days across the intervening woodlands, found its 
 ' " Yankee Gypsies," in Prose Works, i. 330. 
 
14 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 way to the great river, and the river took up 
 and bore it down to the great sea." ' 
 
 The house of the Whittiers was of the older, 
 the pioneer type. Thousands like it exist in 
 New England, though few are so excellently 
 preserved, and none is so deservedly famous, 
 for this single dwelling has become in literature 
 the type of all the homely houses in which New 
 England families gathered around their firesides 
 in the days now gone, in a fashion of life now 
 almost entirely passed awaj' in that section of 
 the country. This homestead, which Whittier 
 himself described in " Snow-Bound," was of a 
 type wholly conformable to the needs and spirit 
 of country life, as different as could be from the 
 mansions of the South or even from those of 
 Boston and Newburyport. Those were for the 
 gentry, that small class that loomed for a while 
 so large in American history, played so well its 
 part, and finally became virtually extinct as its 
 policy became more falsely conservative, more es- 
 sentially un-American, less sensitive to the great 
 principles of honor and justice and equality. 
 The stately buildings of Beacon Street meant 
 less for the commonwealth than the homesteads 
 of Essex County, whose simple structure followed" 
 
 1 " The Fish I Did n't Catch," in Prose Works, i. 320. See also 
 " My Summer with Dr. Singletary," ibid., in which the neighbor- 
 ing district by the riyerside, the " Eoeks," is described in detail. 
 
BOYHOOD 15 
 
 the needs of a household in which servants were 
 unknown ; the company that gathered around 
 the hearth was united in mutual dependence, — 
 a dependence typical of the relations of all citi- 
 zens to one another and to the state. 
 
 The kin and the guests that met in the great- 
 chimneyed kitchen were equally typical of New 
 England. Of the father and the mother we 
 have already spoken. There were also brothers 
 and sisters, each quiet or gay, practical or 
 dreamy, according to his temperament ; a 
 maiden aunt, who might have had her own 
 household had the lover lived whose apparition 
 so strangely visited her at the hour of his death 
 in a distant place ; and a bachelor uncle, one 
 of the sort found in every New England village, 
 but scarcely known in literature except through 
 the personality of Thoreau, — an unworldly 
 man, fond of the woods and fields and their 
 denizens, a faint and less strenuous survival of 
 the pioneer. Of guests there were the winter 
 schoolmasters, country lads themselves, adding 
 to the slender resources needed for their educa- 
 tion by teaching in the college vacation, pur- 
 posely lengthened for such as they, — striplings 
 themselves, but stimulating boys to acquire 
 learning, and destined almost invariably to play 
 well their diverse parts in later life. There 
 came, too, the pedler with his pack and his 
 
16 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 gossip ; the visiting Friend, sometimes a man of 
 renown, for the yearly meeting at Amesbury was 
 well attended ; the companionable neighbor ; the 
 chance traveller, hung about with the glamour of 
 foreign lands, and bringing to a spot apparently 
 so isolated the sense of the huge outer world, 
 as the eastern winds brought sometimes to the 
 hill farm the thunder of the Atlantic surf. 
 Such companionship and such influeilces were in- 
 deed rural, rustic, but these words must not be 
 applied in any contemptuous sense. A group like 
 this was ignorant of city ways, but it possessed 
 in itself all the elements — save, perhaps, knav- 
 ery — which, variously combined, constitute the 
 interests, the ambitions, the toil, and the weari- 
 ness of life. Quietly the country boy could 
 learn his great lesson. 
 
 With this ancestry, in this environment, 
 Whittier spent his boyhood in the placid labor 
 and simple sport of the farmer's lad. Physi- 
 cally the life was in many respects ill suited to 
 a delicate constitution. Thoughtlessly subservi- 
 ent in such matters to tradition, the farmers 
 dried their fresh meat by excessive cooking, ate 
 too much salt food, clothed themselves too 
 thinly, ignored too openly the now plain hy- 
 giene of life, and weaklings fell an easy prey to 
 consumption or survived to live the death-in-life 
 of the dyspeptic. But even on the physical side 
 
BOYHOOD 17 
 
 there were compensations, and in the city almost 
 the same evils existed, in an epoch of lanky sal- 
 lowness that is only now passing away from the 
 nation as a whole. The life in the open air, 
 the diversity of labor and its many intermissions, 
 the companionship with animals, the freedom 
 from hurry and irritation, were good for boy and 
 man, and Whittier clung long to the farming life, 
 and never spoke of it contemptuously, knowing 
 what was the mingled joy and torture of slowly 
 wringing, by the sweat of the brow, the necessa- 
 ries of life from a not too fertile soil. And on 
 the intellectual and spiritual side, there was much 
 to be gained. Less learned in books than Long- 
 fellow or Holmes or Lowell, he had perforce a; 
 stronger hold in boyhood on certain excellent 
 elements of character, — industry, frugality, pa- 
 tience, and independence. 
 
 We may now pause a moment, before taking 
 up the actual narrative of Whittier's boyhood, 
 to see if we can determine the fundamental 
 principles of life, if such they may be called, 
 which he unconsciously absorbed from his early 
 environment and which were later to be strongly 
 effective in determining his course of action. 
 
 It is plain that we cannot be wrong, in the. 
 first place, in throwing stress upon a principle 
 of local permanency, a feeling of attachment to 
 a given locality. Father and son, the Whittiers 
 
18 JOHN GREEN LEAF WHITTIER 
 
 had been for centuries associated with a special 
 place and owned brotherhood to the men of the 
 district, to whom they were allied by relation- 
 ship, by common interests, by long association, 
 and by similar habits of speech, thought, and 
 action. They were Essex County men, — more 
 specially still, Haverhill men, — and they formed 
 a clan of their own, a clan based less on actual 
 kinship than on permanent connection with a 
 given spot, on citizenship in a given district. 
 Other districts there were within the boundaries 
 of the state and the group of related states. 
 Each, too, had its particular characteristics and 
 associations. And so to Whittier's young eyes 
 New England must have seemed a great series 
 of commonwealths within commonwealths, each 
 with its particular identity well preserved, — a 
 state of mind not easily clear to the metropoli- 
 tan boy of to-day, whose stock has usually been 
 several times transplanted, and who in his no- 
 madic existence has acquired small allegiance 
 to any spot of soil or group of men. One has 
 only to read " Massachusetts to Virginia " or the 
 boyish "Song of the Vermonters," to understand 
 how clearly Whittier visualized and localized the 
 kindred clans and tribes of New England. 
 
 A second basis of thought and action familiar 
 to Whittier was that of local independence. 
 Each of the districts we have described was, to 
 
BOYHOOD 19 
 
 a very considerable extent, not only politically 
 but intellectually, spiritually, and socially inde- 
 pendent. It bad its own schools, which sufficed 
 it, its own newspapers, its own churches, sub- 
 ject to no outside interference and needing no 
 outside help, its own circles of friends and 
 neighbors, into which strangers rarely entered. 
 Haverhill, Merrimac, and Amesbury aU turned 
 to Newburyport as a large trading centre and 
 port of entry, but with no feeling of suburban- 
 ness. Boston was a distant city, the recent seat 
 of the General Court, and a place of size and 
 importance, but it had apparently no more in- 
 fluence on Whittier's boyhood than London. It 
 was scarcely forty miles from Newburyport, but 
 he seems to have visited it only once before 
 he was twenty. The urban movement had not 
 yet begun, and the placid villages dwelt serenely 
 apart, like Homer's Cyclopes, makers of their 
 own fates. 
 
 Thirdly, the New England villager felt in his 
 heart of hearts that if he deliberately set for 
 himself a goal of ambition, and was willing to 
 bend himself to it with enthusiasm, he could 
 count, humanly speaking, on attaining it. No 
 career was closed to the man of intelligence and 
 industry. The country was growing rapidly, 
 and her needs outran her supply of men. She 
 could use all her own worthy sons and all that 
 
20 JOHN QREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 came from abroad. There was, comparatively 
 speaking, little competition, and intellectual life 
 of all sorts was so young, so far from complex, 
 that one could scarcely move a step without 
 opening up vistas of the unknown, waiting to he 
 appropriated by some stalwart brain that could, 
 like the pioneer, subdue the tangle of the wilder- 
 ness. Country birth or a slender education was 
 no bar to success. High aspirations and per- 
 sistent industry were the essentials, and we find 
 both Whittier and Garrison, born of families in 
 which the men lived by manual labor, with little 
 education and only a modicum of special train- 
 ing, declaring that they would yet make the land 
 ring with their fame, quite as confidently as did 
 the young Longfellow, whose ancestors had for 
 four generations been men of education, and 
 who was at almost precisely the same time giv- 
 ing expression to a similar desire for glory. 
 
 Last of all, a strong religious element was 
 very frequently present in the young New Eng- 
 lander of the time. The outward hold of the 
 rigid old orthodoxy was slowly weakening, espe- 
 cially throughout eastern Massachusetts ; Unita- 
 rian and Universalist churches were springing 
 up, and there was a growing tendency to accept 
 whatever forms of religious thought showed 
 more affection toward God and more tenderness 
 toward man. The power of the clergy, still jeal- 
 
BOYHOOD 21 
 
 ously defended, was a mere shadow of its former 
 self and was destined soon to be broken entirely. 
 But this outward decay of a formal creed was 
 merely a sign that the essentials of the faith it 
 so clumsily expressed were being thoroughly ab- 
 sorbed by the people at large. The active prin- 
 ciple of Puritanism had done its work. This 
 great movement had been begun to insist on the 
 purification of the church, to restore the pristine 
 faith of Christ in its purity. The established 
 churches resisted the movement ; as permanent 
 organizations they claimed the right to deter- 
 mine the faith, to set the creed. The new tenet 
 of the Puritans, the • tenet that colonized the 
 Western world, was that the faith had already 
 been determined by its founder, and was specifi- 
 cally defined, not by a self -perpetuating organi- 
 zation, but by a written contract or constitution, 
 the Scriptures ; from the theory of salvation 
 as there laid down the established churches had 
 obviously departed. In these propositions they 
 were clearly logically correct. Granted the va- 
 lidity of the Scriptures as a complete revelation, 
 it was plain that all intelligent minds could act 
 upon their prescriptions, and could thus have 
 access to the source of the law. The influence 
 of this deduction was enormous. In the midst 
 of the mad attempt to rule communities of the 
 seventeenth century in accordance with the in- 
 
22 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 tricate and contradictory records of the early 
 tribal legislation of the Hebrews, one main doc- 
 trine retained its efficacy, — the doctrine that the 
 people interpret the law of God, — and this com- 
 bined with the passion for political independ- 
 ence, of which it was in part the cause, to give 
 the New England Puritan both a desire that 
 God's will should be done and a conviction that 
 he could himself determine what God's will was 
 likely to be. 
 
 Not only was Whittier reared in this general 
 atmosphere of Puritanism, with its emphasis on 
 the democratic interpretation of the Scriptures 
 and its passion for justice, but he was more par- 
 ticularly influenced by the doctrines of the Soci- 
 ety of Friends. The Quakers were the ultra- 
 Puritans of the seventeenth century. They would 
 have revivified all the inherent democratic and 
 individualistic principles of the Gospels. They 
 would call no man master, nor show more re- 
 spect to one than to another. They lived simply 
 and spoke plainly. They cultivated mercy and 
 loving-kindness. Could Christ have come to 
 earth again, they it would clearly have been, of 
 all the Western followers of an Oriental creed, 
 that He would have recognized as most patiently 
 following out the tenets He had laid most 
 stress on. 
 
 But the essential difference between the Qua- 
 
BOYHOOD 23 
 
 kers and the other forms of revolt against the 
 established and organized churches lay in the 
 stress that they laid upon the rights of the indi- 
 vidual and his access to the source of authority. 
 To them the written word of God was not all 
 sufficient. The soul of the believer was open to 
 the promptings of the spirit ; the inner light, the 
 voice of God, would lead him. Such a principle 
 opened the way for idiosyncrasies and whimsi- 
 calities on the part of individuals, but, controlled 
 by the judgment of the whole community of be- 
 lievers, it led to little evil and brought about 
 much good. It constantly tended to weaken the 
 force of convention, to strengthen the conscience, 
 to open the mind to new conceptions of justice, 
 and to inculcate essential honesty and righteous- 
 ness as distinguished from the code of morals 
 prescribed by a definite creed. Much has been 
 said of the rise of Unitarianism in New England 
 as marking the breaking down of the rigid reli- 
 gious conceptions of the eighteenth century and 
 the awakening of new moral forces that acted 
 powerfully for advancement in civilization. But 
 the Unitarian movement, in most respects, merely 
 meant that educated people, showing the effects 
 of generations of cultivation, were reaching a 
 conception of life that the simple-minded Qua- 
 kers had long before made their own. It seems 
 to be a law of life that moral advancement is 
 
24 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 not primarily the work of the wise but of the ig- 
 norant, of babes and sucklings. 
 
 In brief, then, we may see' that in spiritual 
 and religious matters Whittier was deeply influ- 
 enced by principles that were ultra-Puritan, logi- 
 cally Puritan, but far in advance of the common 
 orthodoxy of his day, and was thus typical not 
 only of the current religious belief in New Eng- 
 land but of the great impulse toward reform 
 that lay dormant therein. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 BOYHOOD 
 1821-1828 
 Whittier's lot was that of the farmer's boy. 
 He was brought up to take his share in the tasks 
 of the family. " At an early age," he said, in 
 the autobiographical leaflet with which in later 
 life he used to answer inquiries about his boy- 
 hood,-'^ " I was set at work on the farm, and do- 
 ing errands for my mother, who, in addition to 
 her ordinary house duties, was busy in spinning 
 and weaving the linen and woollen cloth needed 
 in the family." Later there came, as his strength 
 allowed, the lighter tasks of the barn and the 
 field, and then the more taxing. All this was 
 excellent training for body and mind, — better 
 indeed for the mind than for the body. Intel- 
 lectual habits may sometimes be best acquired 
 through manual labor. Whittier's neatness and 
 accuracy of mind, the cool judgment and readi- 
 ness of intelligence which he displayed from the 
 very outset of his studies, probably had much to 
 do with the discipline he received from his work 
 
 ' Reprinted in Appendix, i. 
 
26 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 on the farm. But if his intellect grew, his 
 body suffered. Ambition or necessity led him 
 to forms of labor too severe for his strength, 
 and the swinging of the flail left him with dis- 
 abilities that lasted through his life; the ex- 
 posure with insufficient clothing to the bitter 
 New England weather gave him a bronchial 
 weakness ; and the bad food caused dyspepsia. 
 If all the possibilities of his great career came 
 from the opportunities offered by his ancestry 
 and his environment, all the bodily imperfec- 
 tions that hemmed him in so narrowly sprang 
 from the same source. 
 
 Whittier's formal education was scarcely 
 greater than that of an ordinary country boy. 
 He learned to read at home, and then attended 
 the district school for periods proportionately 
 less as his labor on the farm became increas- 
 ingly valuable. He studied there only the old 
 three rudiments, and those only in the strange 
 old ways. Both the course of study and the 
 method of teaching are now frowned upon by 
 the theorists of our time, and apparently with 
 reason. But there was that in the earnestness 
 of both pupils and teachers which made up for 
 many deficiencies. We must never forget that 
 these little villages were at that time alive with 
 ambition and energy, steeped in spiritual, intel- 
 lectual, and physical influences that filled re- 
 
BOYHOOD 27 
 
 sponsive minds with a strange force like that of 
 electricity. Whatever boys saturated with that 
 force touched became their own. Teachers gave 
 more than they knew, and multitudes grew 
 strong on what now seem the husks of learning. 
 
 Earm life at that time afforded little change 
 of scene. Whittier knew Newburyport and the 
 villages round about, but Boston, though only 
 forty miles away, was to him a distant region, 
 almost completely without influence on his life 
 and thought. Once only, apparently, did he visit 
 the city before he was twenty, clad in a new 
 home-spun suit of Quaker cut, with the adorn- 
 ment of " boughten buttons." Even then he re- 
 turned by the next day's stage, startled to find 
 that a charming woman whom he had met at the 
 house of a relative was an actress, and hence di- 
 rectly connected with the theatre, that evil place 
 against which his mother had so strictly warned 
 him on his departure. Perhaps, too, he was de- 
 pressed and bewildered by the bustling life of the 
 little city. In his old age he was accustomed to 
 tell thus the tale of his discomfiture : — 
 
 " ' I wandered up and down the streets,' he 
 used to say. ' Somehow it was n't just what I 
 expected, and the crowd was worse and worse 
 after I got into Washington Street ; and when 
 I got tired of being' jostled, it seemed to me as 
 if the folks might get by if I waited a little 
 
28 JOHN GBEENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 while. Some of them looked at me, and so I 
 stepped into an alleyway and waited and looked 
 out. Sometimes there did n't seem to be so 
 many passing, and I thought of starting, and 
 then they 'd begin again. 'T was a terrible 
 stream of people to me. I began to think my 
 new clothes and the buttons were all thrown 
 away. I stayed there a good while.' (This was 
 said with great amusement.) ' I began to be 
 homesick. I thought it made no difference at 
 all about my having those boughten buttons.' " ^ 
 At home he had access to few books, — the 
 Bible, which he perforce knew as lads of to-day 
 can never know it, and some twenty or thirty 
 odd volumes, mostly the sermons, tracts, bio- 
 graphies, or journals of famous Friends, which 
 he read again and again. Nowadays we read 
 too much, as we eat too much ; the memory, like 
 the digestion, is weakened by surfeit. Then, in 
 times of scarcity, the mind made the most of 
 what it received, extracting every particle of 
 nutriment from the rough fare. Wit^ John 
 Woolman's poignant autobiography he was ap- 
 parently not then acquainted, but he knew the 
 " tales of faith fire-winged by martyrdom " of 
 " painful Sewel's ancient tome," and from this, 
 from the " old and quaint " journal of Chalk- 
 
 * Mrs. James T. Fields, Whittier, Notes of his Life and of 
 his Friendships, 26. 
 
BOYHOOD 29 
 
 ley, "rare sea-saint," as well as from the bio- 
 graphies of those unrepentant New England 
 rogues, Stephen Burroughs and Henry Tufts, he 
 learned to distinguish the warp and woof of the 
 great web of life. Other books came by chance. 
 He knew " Pilgrim's Progress," and long re- 
 membered a picture of the " evil angel, horned, 
 hoofed, scaly, and fire-breathing, illustrating the 
 tremendous encounter of Christian in the valley 
 where * ApoUyon straddled over the whole breadth 
 of the way.' " ^ He had Lindley Murray's " Eng- 
 lish Eeader " and Caleb Bingham's " American 
 Preceptor," — to both be honor, for from each 
 many a youth learned the dignity and nobility 
 of literature. Narratives of travel and adven- 
 ture he obtained from time to time from Dr. 
 Weld, the good old physician of " Snow-Bound," 
 or from others, sometimes walking miles for the 
 purpose ; and once there feU into his hands one 
 of the Waverley novels, which he read at night 
 with his sister by stealth, the candle seeming 
 always to expire as they reached the very crisis. 
 Of good poetry, however, there was a sad lack 
 in the household, according to his own testimony, 
 although he also says that he remembers " how, 
 at a very early age, the solemn organ-roll of 
 Gray's ' Elegy ' and the lyric sweep and pathos 
 of Cowper's ' Lament for the Royal George ' 
 1 Supernaturalism of New England, iii. 
 
80 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIE'r 
 
 moved and fascinated me with a sense of mys- 
 tery and power felt, rather than understood." 
 In any case, it was the first great crisis of his 
 life when he read Burns, all his imagination 
 bursting at once into sudden flame. 
 
 The introduction came in two different ways. 
 
 " One day we had a call from a ' pawky auld 
 carle ' of a wandering Scotchman. To him I 
 owe my first introduction to the songs of Burns. 
 After eating his bread and cheese and drinking 
 his mug of cider he gave us Bonny Doon, High- 
 land Mary, and Auld Lang Syne. He had a 
 rich full voice, and entered heartily into the 
 spirit of his lyrics. I have since listened to the 
 same melodies from the lips of Dempster, than 
 whom the Scottish bard has had no sweeter or 
 truer interpreter ; but the skilful performance 
 of the artist lacked the novel charm of the 
 gaberlunzie's singing in the old farmhouse 
 kitchen."! 
 
 " When I was fourteen years old, my first 
 schoolmaster, Joshua Coffin, the able, eccentric 
 historian of Newbury, brought with him to our 
 house a volume of Burns's poems, from which 
 he read, greatly to my delight. I begged him 
 to leave the book with me, and set myself at 
 once to the task of mastering the glossary of the 
 Scottish dialect at its close. This was about 
 1 " Yankee Gypsies," Prose W(yrks, i. 336. 
 
BOYHOOD 31 
 
 the first poetry I had ever read, — with the ex- 
 ception of that of the Bible, of which I had 
 been a close student, — and it had a lasting in- 
 fluence upon me. I began to make rhymes my- 
 self, and to imagine stories and adventures. In 
 fact, I lived a sort of dual life, and in a world of 
 fancy, as well as in the world of plain matter-of- 
 fact about me." ^ 
 
 Whittier's early admiration for Burns may too 
 have been stimulated by his acquaintance with 
 Robert Dinsmore, of the neighboring town of 
 Windham, N. H., a Scotch farmer and verse 
 writer and an ardent admirer and imitator of 
 Burns, a little volume of whose simple poems 
 was published in Haverhill in 1828 by Whittier's 
 friend and patron, Mr. A. W. Thayer, Whittier 
 himself contributing some Scottish verses to the 
 "rustic bard." The downright honesty and 
 genuine humanity of Dinsmore's work is well 
 brought out in a delightful essay of Whittier's, 
 written in his maturer years, a passage from 
 which will indicate the qualities that must have 
 influenced him as a boy : — 
 
 " He tells us of his farm life, its joys and sor- 
 rows, its mirth and care, with no embellishment, 
 with no concealment of repulsive and ungraceful 
 features. Never having seen a nightingale, he 
 makes no attempt to describe the fowl ; but he 
 1 Autobiographical Sketch, in Appendix, i. 
 
32 JOHN GREEN LEAF WHITTIER 
 
 has seen the night hawk, at sunset, cutting the 
 air above him, and he tells of it. Side by side 
 with his waving cornfields and orchard blooms 
 we have the barnyard and pigsty. Nothing 
 which was to the comfort and happiness of his 
 home and avocation was to him 'common or 
 unclean.' Take, for instance, the following, from 
 a poem written at the close of autumn, after the 
 death of his wife : — 
 
 " ' No more may I the Spring Brook trace, 
 No more ■with sorrow view the place 
 
 Where Mary's wash-tub stood ; 
 No more may wander there alone, 
 And lean npon the mossy stone 
 
 Where once she piled her wood. 
 'T was there she bleached her linen cloth. 
 
 By yonder bass-wood tree ; 
 From that sweet stream she made her broth, 
 
 Her pudding and her tea. 
 That stream, whose waters running, 
 
 O'er mossy root and stone. 
 Made ringing and singing, 
 
 Her voice could match alone.' 
 
 " The last time I saw him, he was chaffering in 
 the market-place of my native village, swapping 
 potatoes and onions and pumpkins for tea, coffee, 
 molasses, and, if the truth be told. New England 
 rum. Threescore years and ten, to his own 
 words, 
 
 " ' Hung o'er his back. 
 And bent him like a muckle pack,' 
 
 yet he still stood stoutly and sturdily in his thick 
 
BOYHOOD 33 
 
 shoes of cowhide, like one accustomed to tread 
 independently the soil of his owu acres, — his 
 broad, honest face seamed by care and darkened 
 by exposure to ' all the airts that blow,' and his 
 white hair flowing in patriarchal glory beneath 
 his felt hat. A genial, jovial, large-hearted old 
 man, simple as a child, and betraying, neither in 
 look nor manner, that he was accustomed to 
 
 " ' Feed on thoughts which voluntary move 
 Harmonious numbers.' 
 
 Peace to him ! A score of modern dandies and 
 sentimentalists could ill supply the place of 
 this one honest man. In the ancient burial- 
 ground of Windham, by the side of his ' beloved 
 MoUy,' and in view of the old meeting-house, 
 there is a mound of earth, where, every spring, 
 green grasses tremble in the wind and the warm 
 sunshine calls out the flowers. There, gathered 
 like one of his own ripe sheaves, the farmer poet 
 sleeps with his fathers." ^ 
 
 From at least two sources, then, — from Coffin 
 in 1821, from the wandering minstrel earlier, 
 and later perhaps from Dinsmore, — Whittier 
 received the gift of Prometheus, the fire that 
 kindled him. What Burns had done in Scot- 
 land, Whittier might possibly have done in New 
 England ; but Burns's feet rested on the shoul- 
 
 1 " Robert Dinsmore," in Prose Works, ii. 256, 259. 
 
34 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 ders of other singers of his race, and Whittier as 
 a poet had no local ancestry. Unassisted, he 
 would have come only tardily to a realization of 
 the fact that the best materials for song lay 
 right about him ; under other influences he would 
 have made wider detours from the straight path. 
 It was thus the greatest good fortune that his 
 first master was Burns rather than Wordsworth 
 or Coleridge or Byron, or, worst of all for him, 
 Keats. He had already begun, as he implies 
 in his mature lines on Burns, to " dream of lands 
 of gold and pearl, of loving knight and lady," 
 when he was brought firmly back to " farmer boy 
 and barefoot girl," and taught to see " through 
 all familiar things the romance underlying." 
 
 " New light on home-seen Nature heamed, 
 New glory over Woman ; 
 And daily life and duty seemed 
 No longer poor and common. . . . 
 
 " O'er rank and pomp, as he had seen, 
 I saw the Man uprising ; 
 No longer common or unclean, 
 The child of God's baptizing ! 
 
 " With clearer eyes I saw the worth 
 Of life among the lowly ; 
 The Bible at his Cotter's hearth 
 Had made my own more holy." 
 
 Children like to rhyme, the juxtaposition of 
 words of similar sound delighting them much as 
 plays on words do simple people of a later 
 
BOYHOOD 36 
 
 growth ; but the tagte soon disappears. In Whit- 
 tier it was more permanent. As a small boy he 
 covered his slate with verses, instead of with 
 sums, when he sat by the hearth in the evening ; 
 and apparently soon passed from the first stage, 
 doggerel, into the second, imitation of the occa- 
 sional verses he found in the poetical corner of 
 the weekly paper or in the school reader. By 
 1823 he showed both talent and practice, for 
 some lines in an album, of which the following 
 are part, bear that date : — 
 
 " When our moments of youth are glided away, 
 
 When the pleasures of youth are sunk in decay, 
 
 When the hopes we have cherished and the joys we have known 
 
 Ohlivion has covered and time overthrown, 
 
 If these lines come before thee, thy memory may cast 
 
 Through the wreck of long years a dim thought of the past. 
 
 Thou mayst think upon him who thus feebly has penned 
 
 The lines here annexed to the name of a friend." 
 
 Here he has caught the swing of long lines as 
 neatly as in " The Willows," a poem of about 
 the same time, he reached the full spirit of 
 Woodworth's " Old Oaken Bucket," — which, 
 though not itself original in form, had proved 
 sufficiently original in matter to become at once 
 a great favorite. Whittier's verses are palpably 
 imitative, but not basely so. The main idea is 
 another's; its application in detail is his own, 
 and the adjectives do credit to his growing power 
 of selection. 
 
86 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 " Oh, dear to my heart are the scenes which delighted 
 My fancy in moments I ne'er can recall, 
 When each happy hour new pleasures inTited, 
 
 And hope pictured visions more holy than all. 
 Then I gazed with light heart, transported and glowing. 
 
 On the forest-crowned hill and the rivulet's tide, 
 O'ershadowed with tall grass and rapidly flowing 
 Around the lone willow that stood hy its side, — 
 The storm-hattered willow, the ivy-hound willow, the water- 
 washed willow that grew hy its side." 
 
 A careful examination of these verses, of the 
 half dozen or more others written between 1823 
 and 1825, and of the dozen or more written in 
 1826-27, make it clear that Burns had served 
 more to stimulate Whittier's imagination than to 
 lead him into special lines of imitation. There 
 are extant a dozen pieces or so in the Scotch dia- 
 lect, mostly of the humorous sort ; but they were 
 not his earliest work nor his best. The impel- 
 ling power and the range of thought suggested 
 may have come from Burns, but not the form, 
 which he took from the current models most 
 accessible. 
 
 An imitation of Moore, " The Exile's Depar- 
 ture," beginning " Farewell, shores of Erin, 
 green land of my Fathers," which he wrote 
 June 1, 1825, was the occasion of a new crisis 
 in his life, for it brought him into relations with 
 William Lloyd Garrison, a boy only two years 
 older than himself, destined for a long period to 
 be respected by few and detested by many, but 
 
BOYHOOD 37 
 
 clearly the most powerful influence acting in 
 American public life between 1830 and 1850. 
 Unknown to Whittier, his sister Mary sent this 
 poem to Garrison's paper, the Newburyport 
 "Free Press," where it appeared on June 8, 
 1826, to his own huge delight. He himself then 
 sent another piece, in blank verse, " The Deity," 
 based on 1 Kings xix. 11, 12, and that was printed 
 with the following paragraph prefixed : — 
 
 " The author of the following graphic sketch, 
 which would do credit to riper years, is a youth 
 of only sixteen, who we think bids fair to prove 
 another Bernard Barton, of whose persuasion he 
 is. His poetry bears the stamp of true poetic 
 genius, which, if carefully cultivated, wiU rank 
 him among the bards of his country." ^ 
 
 Garrison was only remotely of Essex County 
 stock. His grandfather was an Englishman who 
 had settled in New Brunswick and had married 
 a daughter of an emigrant from the Newbury- 
 port region. His father had married a girl of 
 mingled English and Irish ancestry, and a rov- 
 ing life had biought him to Newburyport. The 
 son thus represented a far later tide of immi- 
 gration than that which bore the Whittiers to 
 Essex County ; but he had the strength of mind 
 that befits a pioneer, and it fell to his iron will 
 and indomitable energy to lead a great moral 
 
 ' Pickard, Life, i. 51. 
 
38 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 revolution. Virtually self-educated and forced 
 from childhood to earn his own support, he had 
 while a printer's apprentice mastered the mys- 
 teries of the editor's craft and trained himself to 
 think and write on public affairs. His appren- 
 ticeship over, his unselfish employer helped him 
 to start a rival journal, the " Free Press," which 
 was to be neutral in its politics. Its motto was 
 " Our Country, Our Whole Country, and no- 
 thing but Our Country," and its frankness, hon- 
 esty, and humanity commended it to the elder 
 Whittier, old-fashioned anti- slavery Quaker 
 Democrat that he was, and brought it at once 
 into his household. 
 
 What followed must be told in Garrison's 
 own words : — 
 
 " Going upstairs to my office one day, I ob- 
 served a letter lying near the door, to my ad- 
 dress ; which, on opening, I found to contain an 
 original piece of poetry for my paper, the ' Free 
 Press.' The ink was very pale, the handwriting 
 very small ; and, having at that time a horror of 
 newspaper ' original poetry,' — which has rather 
 increased than diminished with the lapse of time, 
 — my first impulse was to tear it in pieces, with- 
 out reading it, the chances of rejection, after its 
 perusal, being as ninety-nine to one ; . . . but, 
 summoning resolution to read it, I was equally 
 surprised and gratified to find it above medi- 
 
BOYHOOD 39 
 
 ocrity, and so gave it a place in my journal. . . . 
 As I was anxious to find out the writer, my 
 post-rider one day divulged the secret — stating 
 that he had dropped the letter in the manner 
 described, and that it was written by a Quaker 
 lad, named "Whittier, who was daily at work on 
 the shoemaker's bench, with hammer and lap- 
 stone, at East Haverhill. Jumping into a vehi- 
 cle, I lost no time in driving to see the youthful 
 rustic bard, who came into the room with shrink- 
 ing diffidence, almost unable to speak, and blush- 
 ing like a maiden. Giving him some words of 
 encouragement, I addressed myself more partic- 
 ularly to his parents, and urged them with great 
 earnestness to grant him every possible facility 
 for the development of his remarkable genius. . . . 
 " Almost as soon as he could write, he [Whit- 
 tier] gave evidence of the precocity and strength 
 of his poetical genius, and when unable to pro- 
 cure paper and ink, a piece of chalk or charcoal 
 was substituted. He indulged his propensity for 
 rhyming with so much secrecy (as his father 
 informed us) that it was only by removing some 
 rubbish in the garret, where he had concealed 
 his manuscripts, that the discovery was made. 
 This bent of his mind was discouraged by his 
 parents : they were in indigent circumstances, 
 and unable to give him a suitable education, 
 and they did not wish to inspire him with hopes 
 
40 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 which might never be fulfilled. . . . We endeav- 
 ored to speak cheeringly of the prospects of 
 their son ; we dwelt upon the impolicy of war- 
 ring against nature, of striving to quench the 
 first kindlings of a fiame which might burn like 
 a star in our literary horizon, and we spoke, too, 
 of fame. ' Sir,' replied his father, with an emo- 
 tion which went home to our bosom like an 
 electric shock, ' poetry will not give him bread.' 
 What could we say? The fate of Chatterton, 
 Otway, and the whole catalogue of those who 
 had perished by neglect, rushed upon our mem- 
 ory, and we were silent." ^ 
 
 The " Free Press " was an unsuccessful ven- 
 ture and was discontinued in September, and 
 shortly afterwards Garrison left Newburyport 
 to seek his fortune in Boston. But his advice 
 to give Whittier an education was reiterated in 
 January, 1827, by Abijah W. Thayer, the editor 
 of .the Haverhill " Gazette," to which Whittier 
 had been sending his poems. This time the 
 father, realizing that the injury Whittier had re- 
 ceived prevented his becoming a robust farmer, 
 consented, on condition that the son should earn 
 the means, for the farm was mortgaged, and 
 ready money not to be obtained otherwise than 
 by the boy's own efforts. A way lay just at 
 hand. Shoemaking was one of the great in- 
 
 ^ William Lloyd Garrison : the Story of his Life, i. 67. 
 
BOYHOOD 41 
 
 dustries of the county, and in the absence of 
 machinery was then carried on more by home 
 labor than by factory work. Whittier had learned 
 from a hired man on the farm the art of making 
 slippers of a certain kind, and had practised it 
 previously, if Garrison's memory be not at fault ; 
 at any rate he now took it up with vigor. One 
 of his teachers in the district school thus de- 
 scribes him at his work : — 
 
 " If my memory serves me rightly, Mr. Whit- 
 tier, with others on the farm, made shoes in one 
 of those little shops you see now at country 
 farmhouses. I remember that he used to sit on 
 a low bench that had a little draw [drawer] at 
 the side. When I have entered the shop for a 
 chat with those I was sure to find there, I re- 
 member that often Mr. Whittier would pull out 
 the little draw and hand me some loose sheets of 
 paper, with the poems he had written on them 
 during the day. He usually offered no com- 
 ment, but continued steadily at his work." ^ 
 
 In the winter and spring of 1827 the young 
 artisan earned enough to pay his carefully cal- 
 culated expenses at the new Haverhill Acad- 
 emy, at the dedication of which, on April 80, 
 an ode of his composing was sung. For the 
 summer term of six months he jubilantly carried 
 
 1 Moses E. Emerson, quoted in W. S. Kennedy, J. G. Whit- 
 tier, American Reformers Series, 49. 
 
42 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 on his studies, living in the family of Mr. Thayer 
 and returning to the farm every Friday night. 
 He pursued the ordinary branches, with the ad- 
 dition of French, astonishing his master by his 
 excellence in English composition. He was a 
 favorite among his fellows of both sexes, who 
 appreciatively passed his manuscript verses from 
 hand to hand. He now had for the first time 
 access to libraries, and revelled in their contents, 
 for his mind had been hitherto but frugally, not 
 to say scantily, fed ; and as the young poet of 
 the village he was welcomed and made much 
 of everywhere. In the winter of 1827-28 he 
 replenished his exhausted resources in a more 
 traditional way by teaching school in the Birch 
 Meadow district, now Merrimac, which lies be- 
 tween his home and Amesbury, and in the spring 
 of 1828 returned to the academy for another and 
 final term. At its conclusion he had of course 
 only the rudiments of a sound education, not to 
 be compared with the comparatively elaborate 
 equipment of Longfellow, Holmes, Lowell, Em- 
 erson, and Thoreau. But he had found the way 
 to a knowledge of literature and history, and he 
 knew as much as many of the editors and not a 
 few politicians of his time. 
 
 Meanwhile he had been writing verse and 
 prose with great activity. In 1827 and 1828 
 about a hundred of his poems were printed in 
 
BOYHOOD 43 
 
 the " Gazette," besides articles on temperance, 
 on Robert Burns, and on war, and one, in the 
 Boston " Philanthropist," on gambling. He was 
 still in the imitative stage, learning his art 
 through a series of enthusiasms that corre- 
 sponded to his wider opportunities for reading. 
 When he entered the academy, he was evidently 
 a devotee of Moore, or at least of that swelling 
 and rhetorical verse which we associate with 
 Moore's name, as is shown by the ode sung at 
 the dedication, beginning "Hail, Star of Sci- 
 ence, come forth in thy splendor." But from 
 about that time his style and choice of subjects 
 shifted rapidly. Sometimes he imitated WiUis, 
 who was then attracting attention by scriptural 
 sketches, sometimes Bryant, as when he writes : 
 
 " Drear place of dreamless solitude ! to thee 
 Earth's generations pass. The small, the great, 
 The mighty monarch and bis meanest slaTe, 
 Unceremonious mix their equal dust 
 Within thy gloom-wrapt mansions." 
 
 But his chief exemplar was certainly Mrs. 
 Hemans. In fact, she seems to have been the 
 favorite poet of the district. Garrison quoted 
 her verses in the " Free Press " more frequently 
 than those of any one else ; Thayer in the " Ga- 
 zette" had the same habit until Whittier be- 
 came his versifier in ordinary; and Whittier's 
 sister, in a scrap-book of this period, mingles 
 
44 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Mrs. Hemans's verses with those written by her 
 brother. Whittier followed Mrs. Hemans closely 
 in style and subjects, as may be seen by the 
 opening lines of "Pericles at the Bier of his 
 Son": — 
 
 " Stand back ! stand back ! ye monrners all ! 
 The father of the dead 
 Comes up the long resounding hall 
 With slow and solemn tread." 
 
 What attracted people in general in such 
 work it is almost impossible to understand until 
 we put ourselves in the place of a generation 
 wholly unused to finding emotion expressed in 
 poetry. Satiated with didactic and prosaic verse 
 of all kinds, and just beginning to feel the thrill 
 of romance in history, they turned with delight 
 to anybody's versified account of anything un- 
 usual, without demanding that the moral drawn 
 or the emotion awakened should be justified by 
 a calm and rational judgment of the material 
 treated. In those days the mere hint of the 
 historian was enough to set the poet off at a 
 gallop. Because he felt his heart stir at a ro- 
 mantic or pathetic situation, he must needs try 
 to set forth the picture, the circumstances, and 
 the characters, — all, we see now, hopelessly out 
 of keeping with the facts in the case as revealed 
 by more analytic and less impulsive considera- 
 tion. Such was the taste of the day, of which 
 
BOYHOOD 45 
 
 Mrs. Hemans was the best example, and to her 
 Whittier owed the stimulus for poems on " Peri- 
 cles at the Bier of his Son," " Eve at the Burial 
 of Abel," " Montezuma's Defiance of Cortes," 
 " Sardanapalus's Reproof of his Courtiers," " The 
 Death of Ossian," and many another. 
 
 It is small wonder that Whittier's verse was 
 at once received with approbation by his neigh- 
 bors and townsmen. They simply recognized 
 that a poet had arisen among them who met 
 their tastes, who touched their emotions. They 
 had little with which to compare his verse, and 
 they properly gave it their highest praise. In the 
 " Gazette," January 13, 1827, Mr. Thayer said : — 
 
 " The author of the following effusions, to 
 whom we have before been indebted for contri- 
 butions to the poetical department of our paper, 
 we understand is a young man only seventeen 
 [twenty] years of age, an apprentice to the 
 shoemaking business, and possessing no other 
 advantages of education than are afforded in the 
 common town schools. If nature or the ' sacred 
 nine ' inspire him to write such poetry under his 
 present disadvantages we surely have reason to 
 expect much from him, should his genius be 
 assisted by a classical education." 
 
 On March 17 he returns to the subject : — 
 
 " His effusions . . . indicate, we should say, 
 considering his disadvantages, a genius unpar- 
 
46 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 alleled among American poets. Such richness 
 and sublimity of language and brilliancy of 
 imagery and delicacy of sentiment have not, we 
 believe, distinguished any of the early produc- 
 tions of the most celebrated modern poets." 
 
 There was local blame as well as praise. In 
 the comment last mentioned Mr. Thayer called 
 attention to the fact that there had been " illib- 
 eral criticism." Whittier was said " to borrow 
 largely from other poets," — as indeed, from a 
 broad point of view, it was clear that he had 
 done. Mr. Thayer defended him by declaring 
 that " this remark (totally destitute of founda- 
 tion) doubtless originated with some of those 
 would-be critics who plume themselves on their 
 superior education, derived, probably, from ' a 
 six-months' sojourn at an academy.' " 
 
 But if such criticism left its sting, Whittier 
 must have felt proud of the uniform approval 
 which his verses met elsewhere. Many of them 
 appeared in the Boston " Statesman " and were 
 copied -r- surest sign of favor — into other jour- 
 nals, far and near, until the schoolboy poet 
 came to have, even then, the beginnings of a 
 national reputation, such as Bryant and Percival 
 had already achieved and WiUis was rapidly 
 gaining. Under these circumstances it seemed 
 wise to try the venture of publishing by sub- 
 scription a little volume of his verse, which 
 
BOYHOOD 47 
 
 might add to his growing fame and contribute 
 to his empty purse. In January, 1828, there- 
 fore, Mr. Thayer announced in the " Gazette " 
 the proposed publication of "The Poems of 
 Adrian," a pseudonym often used by Whittier. 
 The following was the prospectus : — 
 
 "The Poems of Adrian. — Many of the 
 poems now proposed to be published originally 
 appeared in the ' Essex Gazette,' and were very 
 favorably received by its readers. Some of 
 them have been copied into the most respectable 
 papers, in various sections of the Union, with 
 strong expressions of approbation. When the 
 circumstances under which these poems were 
 written are known, they will be particularly in- 
 teresting. The author (a native of this town) 
 is a young man, about nineteen years of age, 
 who has had, until very recently, no other means 
 of education than are afforded in a common dis- 
 trict school, and such as he improved in the lei- 
 sure hours of an apprenticeship to a mechanical 
 business. It is believed by his friends that these 
 poems indicate genius of a high order, which de- 
 serves all possible culture. The design of thus 
 offering his juvenile writings to the public is to 
 raise money to assist him in obtaining a classical 
 education. He is a worthy member of the So- 
 ciety of Friends, and it is hoped that from them 
 the volume will receive a liberal patronage." 
 
48 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 The volume was to be well printed, to be 
 bound in boards, and to contain about two hun- 
 dred pages. It was to be sold for seventy-five 
 cents, and any one securing six subscriptions 
 was to receive a seventh copy gratis. Twenty- 
 two subscribers had already been secured in 
 Philadelphia. But the scheme came to naught, 
 and with it apparently all the author's hopes of 
 gaining money by his verse. 
 
 Lyric poetry must have a large element of 
 autobiography, and in Whittier's schoolboy verse 
 we find, here and there, traces of his more per- 
 sonal moods. He feels the injustice of men, his 
 first experience of the world, but — 
 
 " Though the critic's scornful eye 
 
 Condemn his faltering lay, 
 And though with heartless apathy 
 
 The cold "world turn away, 
 And envy strive with secret aim 
 
 To hlast and dim his rising fame,'' 
 
 still he vowed faithfulness to his humble muse. 
 The pangs and joys of youthful love, too, were 
 not absent. Like his Scottish prototype, or 
 like any manly young New England farmer, he 
 was highly susceptible to the charms of women, 
 and like every country lad before or since, he 
 was soon successively in love with more than 
 one of his schoolmates. Such attachments are 
 innocent and natural and rarely lead to mar- 
 riage, but with ecstasies come jealousies, and 
 
BOYHOOD 49 
 
 plighted vows are followed by remorse. Whit- 
 tier was a poor boy and marriage was out of the 
 question ; he was a good Quaker, too, and mar- 
 riage outside of his sect was not to be thought 
 of. But these early loves, — and one in particu- 
 lar, — we may find echoing faintly through his 
 later verse ; in his verse of this period they are 
 plainly evident, particularly when, as seems to 
 be the case, Byron gave him the clue to a pessi- 
 mistic poetry in which remorse and despair go 
 hand in hand, and he sang of blighted affection : 
 
 " Wherefore ask me to forget 
 How we loved and how we met ? . . . 
 Fare thee well since others now 
 Clothe in smiles thy winning brow. 
 Smile on them, but thou shalt know 
 Yet the deeper stings of woe." 
 
 We must not leave his schoolboy verses, how- 
 ever, without referring to the one poem of real 
 excellence that belongs to that period, " The 
 Song of the Vermonters," now included in the 
 Appendix to his poetical works. It was in- 
 tended, he said sixty years later, as " a piece of 
 boyish mystification," and was published anony- 
 mously. Copied far and wide, it was often cred- 
 ited to Ethan Allen. No one with ears to hear 
 could have believed it to have been an eighteenth 
 century production, but no one with the faintest 
 appreciation of verse could have read without a 
 stirring of the blood such lines as 
 
50 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 " Ho — all to the borders ! Vermonters, come down, 
 With your breeches of deerskin and jackets of brown ; 
 With your red woolen caps, and your moccasins, come, 
 To the gathering summons of trumpet and drum," 
 
 or the spirited stanzas that follow. Here there 
 was not a trace of Mrs. Hemans and her scrap- 
 book method. In form it was purely Byronic ; 
 but the young author, grown wise for an un- 
 conscious instant, had seized hold of the one 
 kind of material that he could really handle, — 
 the spirit and glory of New England and her love 
 of freedom. It was, though he did not realize 
 it, the first sign of his greatness. 
 
 But schooldays had come to an end. Either 
 he must prepare for college (and he had little 
 or no Latin), and gird himself for a long strug- 
 gle with poverty while carrying on his general 
 or professional training ; or look forward to an 
 eternity of village school-teaching ; or go back 
 to the farm and slipper-making ; or try his for- 
 tune as an editor. A chance in this last direc- 
 tion seemed to present itself, late in 1828, when 
 his first patron, Garrison, who had gone from 
 Newburyport to Boston, and was editing the 
 "Philanthropist," suggested to the publisher, 
 the Eev. William Collier, that Whittier should 
 succeed him. The following passages from a 
 letter to Mr. Thayer, to whom he naturally 
 turned for advice, show his dilemma and his 
 ambition : — 
 
BOYHOOD 61 
 
 Shad Parish, 28th of 11th mo., 1828. 
 
 Friend A. W. Thatee, — I have been in a 
 quandary ever since I left thee, whether I had 
 better accept the offer of Friend Collier, or nail 
 myself down to my seat, — for, verily, I could 
 not be kept there otherwise, — and toil for the 
 honorable and truly gratifying distinction of 
 being considered " a good cobbler." . . . No — 
 no — friend, it won't do. Thee might as well 
 catch a weasel asleep, or the Old Enemy of 
 Mankind in a parsonage-house, as find me con- 
 tented with that distinction. 
 
 I have renounced college for the good reason 
 that I have no disposition to humble myself to 
 meanness for an education — crowding myself 
 through college upon the charities of others, and 
 leaving it with a debt or an obligation to weigh 
 down my spirit like an incubus, and paralyze 
 every exertion. The professions are already 
 crowded full to overflowing — and I, forsooth, 
 because I have a miserable knack of rhyming, 
 must swell the already enormous number, strug- 
 gle awhile with debt and difficulties, and then, 
 weary of life, go down to my original insignifi- 
 cance, where the tinsel of classical honors will 
 but aggravate my misfortune. Verily, friend 
 Thayer, the picture is a dark one — but from 
 my heart I believe it to be true. What, then, 
 remains for me? School-keeping — out upon 
 
52 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 it ! The memory of last year's experience comes 
 up before me like a horrible dream. No, I had 
 rather be a tin-peddler, and drive around the 
 country with a bunch of sheepskins hanging to 
 my wagon. I had rather hawk essences from 
 dwelling to dwelling, or practise physic between 
 CoUy Hill and Country Bridge [the most 
 sparsely settled portion of the East Parish]. 
 
 Seriously — the situation of editor of the 
 " Philanthropist " is not only respectable, but it 
 is peculiarly pleasant to one who takes so deep 
 an interest, as I really do, in the great cause it 
 is laboring to promote. I would enter upon my 
 task with a heart free from misanthropy, and 
 glowing with that feeling that wishes well to all. 
 I would rather have the memory of a Howard, 
 a Wilberforce, and a Clarkson than the undying 
 fame of Byron.^ 
 
 1 Pickard, lAfe, i. 70. 
 
CHAPTER in 
 
 THE YOUNG JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 
 1829-1832 
 
 Thus through the early distinction of his verse 
 had Whittier been drawn from the peaceful and 
 remote life of the farm and the Quaker house- 
 hold into the more worldly life of a busy little 
 town. His ambition aroused, and a taste for 
 the pleasures and profits of the world awakened, 
 it must have seemed as if return to the former 
 state would be almost like annihilation. It was 
 apparently with delight, therefore, that he em- 
 braced the unexpected opportunity to edit a 
 Boston paper, and thus began a second brief 
 cycle in his career, — three years in which he 
 tried to speak the language and live the life of 
 this strange outer world, to cherish its ambi- 
 tions and enjoy as best he could its pleasures, 
 only in the end, as we shall see, to be brought 
 inevitably back to the quiet rural district which 
 had moulded him and had already signed and 
 sealed him as its own. 
 
 An editorship was not then a post of great 
 distinction. Garrison, the editor of the " Philan- 
 
54 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 thropist," roomed with its printer at a boarding- 
 house kept by the owner, Collier, a Baptist 
 " city missionary ; " and the paper, noble as were 
 its aims and able as was Garrison's handling of 
 it, was a mere experiment. As it turned out, it 
 was not even the " Philanthropist " that Whittier 
 was to take charge of, but another weekly jour- 
 nal just established by the Colliers, the " Amer- 
 ican Manufacturer," " devoted to the interests of 
 manufactures, mechanics, agriculture, internal 
 improvements, literature, education, and general 
 intelligence." With volume one, number 14, 
 January 1, 1829, this paper began to bear his 
 name at the head of its editorial columns, Mr. 
 Collier announcing in the same issue that he had 
 relinquished the editorship and that the journal 
 would be in future " conducted by John G. 
 Whittier, who is well known to the public as a 
 writer of promise." 
 
 Whittier's salary was only nine dollars a 
 week, and it seems to have been understood that 
 he should board with his employer. A large 
 part of the " Manufacturer " was taken up with 
 routine matter, — " current prices wholesale" and 
 the like, — and Whittier's main duty was appar- 
 ently the concoction of a few editorials, which 
 were for a while of a sufficiently general character 
 to serve equally well for the " Philanthropist," 
 then without an editor. He salutes the new year : 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 55 
 
 "Another year has been chronicled with the 
 dead. One portion of our earthly existence has 
 gone by, and another, big with unknown events, 
 is opening before us." He contemplates the 
 thought of death, he advocates the cause of tem- 
 perance, he rebukes infidelity. With better 
 success he treats of the authors of the day. In 
 the issue of January 8 he has an article on the 
 novels of Sir Walter Scott. " Several of these 
 volumes," he says, " which have been produced 
 with such wonderful rapidity and unexampled 
 success, have in our opinion a tendency to sub- 
 vert some of the purest principles of Christian 
 Morality. . . . Our sympathies are enlisted fre- 
 quently on the wrong side, yet we cannot avoid 
 it, for a fascination is around us, — the fascina- 
 tion of glowing narrative and masterly delinea- 
 tion of character. The wassail-feast, the Bac- 
 chanalian revel, the drunken exploits of profane 
 and licentious cavaliers, are described in a man- 
 ner ill-calculated to produce a salutary impres- 
 sion upon the mind." 
 
 On the other hand, he is greatly moved by 
 Croly's " Salathiel," which has been recently 
 revived under the title, " Tarry Thou till I 
 Come ; " he quotes liberally from Dana's " Buc- 
 caneer ; " and he speaks with entire approval of 
 L. E. L., then the darling of the general read- 
 ing public in England : " She has laid open to 
 
56 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 the world the secrets of a heart exquisitely alive 
 to earnest and clinging affections, with too much 
 minuteness, with too much truth. She has de- 
 scribed love' as a wild and all-engrossing passion, 
 instead of repressing it." 
 
 The " Manufacturer " had been established to 
 further the interests of the new protective tariff 
 and of Clay's "American system," so advan- 
 tageous to New England and so perplexing to 
 the South. Whittier was ignorant of political 
 economy, and indeed he must needs have been 
 very wise to have found his way through the 
 tangle of tariff discussion at that time. But 
 luckily the policy of the paper was consonant 
 with ideas which had long been familiar to him 
 in the manufacturing district of the Merrimac 
 valley, and it was natural for a Quaker to be 
 dissatisfied with the warlike Jackson and to deny ' 
 his fitness for the presidency. As the weeks 
 went by, he grew more at ease in his new func- 
 tion, and on April 16 he felt himself sufficiently 
 master of the situation to begin a series of edito- 
 rial addresses " to the young mechanics of New 
 England : " " The person who now addresses you 
 has been ranked among your number. Called 
 to another sphere of action, he retains a sincere 
 regard for the welfare of his former associates — 
 those companions of his early years, whom he 
 is proud to recognize as his friends. From indi- 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 67 
 
 viduals, his regard is now extended to all who 
 are included in that class of the community to 
 whom this article is addressed. He has felt, in 
 common with you all, the injustice of that illib- 
 eral feeling, which has been manifested towards 
 mechanics by the wealthy and arrogant of other 
 classes. He has felt his cheek burn, and his 
 pulse quicken, when witnessing the open, undis- 
 guised contempt with which his friends have 
 been received — not from any defect in their 
 moral character, their minds, or their persons, 
 but simply because they depended upon their 
 own exertions for their means of existence, and 
 upon their own industry and talents for a pass- 
 port to public favor." In five addresses of this 
 sort the young editor counselled work, thought, 
 and self-control to his brethren in the mechanic 
 arts, and pleaded with them to renew the old pre- 
 eminence of New England by their industry and 
 their virtue. 
 
 If his contract called only for prose, he cer- 
 tainly exceeded its limits, for he contributed to 
 the " Manufacturer " not only many non-political 
 poems but a series of poetical skits called " Tar- 
 iffiana," and he sent to the Cincinnati " Ameri- 
 can " some good verses on Clay, — in answer to 
 the current charge that Clay and Jackson had 
 united in a political " deal," — which were widely 
 circulated during the ensuing presidential cam- 
 paign. 
 
58 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 His editorial duties, however, were no great 
 tax on his mind or his time, and he had leisure 
 for reading and his friends. He was in reality, 
 as he said many years later, a shy and timid re- 
 cluse, afraid of a shadow, especially the shadow 
 of a woman ; but he was bravely endeavoring to 
 live as others did in a world of pretenses, as may 
 be gathered from letters of that period : — 
 
 " Here I have been all day trying to write 
 something for my paper, but what with habitual 
 laziness, and a lounge or two in the Athenseum 
 Gallery, I am altogether unfitted for composi- 
 tion. . . . There are a great many pretty girls at 
 the Athenseum, and I like to sit there and re- 
 mark upon the different figures that go flitting 
 by me, like aerial creatures just stooping down 
 to our dull earth, to take a view of the beautiful 
 creations of the painter's genius. I love to watch 
 their airy motions, notice the dark brilliancy of 
 their fine eyes, and observe the delicate flush 
 stealing over their cheeks, but, trust me, my 
 heart is untouched, — cold and motionless as a 
 Jutland lake lighted up by the moonshine. I 
 always did love a pretty girl. Heaven grant 
 there is no harm in it ! . . . Mr. Garrison will 
 deliver an address on the Fourth of July. He 
 goes to see his Dulcinea every other night al- 
 most, but is fearful of being ' shipped off,' after 
 all, by her. Lord help the poor fellow, if it 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 59 
 
 happens so. I like my business very well ; but 
 hang me if I like the people here. I am ac- 
 quainted with a few girls, and have no wish to 
 be so with many." i 
 
 ..." I have become a notable fellow in gal- 
 lantry of late ; I mean old-fashioned gallantry, 
 however. I have given my whiskers a more 
 ferocious appearance, and take the liberty of 
 frightening into good nature those who will not 
 be complacent of their own accord." " 
 
 There were bickerings and jealousies in the 
 boarding-house and the printing-house of the Col- 
 liers, and Whittier was probably somewhat re- 
 lieved when in August, 1829, he was called home 
 by the severe illness of his father. The old man 
 lived until June, 1830, but upon Whittier de- 
 volved the management of the farm and for the 
 present it seemed that his progress as an editor 
 was barred. Fortunately he was soon offered the 
 editorship of the Haverhill " Gazette," which 
 had during his absence in Boston reprinted many 
 of his poems ; had praised his articles in the " Man- 
 ufacturer," — which reveal " all the warmth of 
 language and richness of imagination " so pecul- 
 iarly characteristic of its editor's mind ; had set 
 him as a poet and a man above Willis, who was 
 still growing in popular favor ; and had quoted 
 
 1 Piekard, Life, i. 93. 
 
 2 Piekard, Life, i. 78, note. 
 
60 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 from the Philadelphia "Ladies' Literary Ga- 
 zette" an "Ode to J. G. Whittier," signed 
 Henriqueta, declaring that " thou art one whom 
 aftertime shall hallow with its fame." 
 
 For the first six months of 1830 Whittier ed- 
 ited the " Gazette." It was a weekly sheet, con- 
 taining but little original matter, and his duties 
 did not interfere with his residence on the farm 
 or his labors there. Once, indeed, he announced 
 that " the Editor, being unexpectedly absent 
 during the whole of the present week, was of 
 course unable to attend to this number of the 
 ' Gazette.' " His poetical contributions appeared 
 with frequency, and his political editorials were 
 serious and sensible, though noticeably less en- 
 thusiastic than those he wrote for the "Manu- 
 facturer." The most characteristic was that of 
 March 20, which praised " the bold and rich elo- 
 quence " of an article in the " New England Ke- 
 view " on New England military heroes, and went 
 on to laud New England as "the native homo 
 of the intellect " and as noble through her mani- 
 festations of moral power, her free institutions, 
 and her religion. 
 
 This praise of the " New England Review," 
 of Hartford, Conn., was synchronous with certain 
 contributions to it, and with an epistolary friend- 
 ship with its editor, George D. Prentice, a dash- 
 ing young fellow, quite the opposite of Whittier, 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 61 
 
 as was apparent from his later career as editor 
 of the Louisville " Journal," but at that period 
 probably Whittier's ideal of what a successful 
 journalist and politician ought to be. They had 
 never met, but Prentice wrote thus to him, in the 
 braggadocio style of the time, after describing 
 how he stole a kiss from a young poetess : — 
 
 " Whittier, I wish you were seated by my 
 side, for I asstire you that my situation, just 
 now, is very much to my particular satisfaction. 
 Here am I in my hotel, with a good-natured fire 
 in front of me, and a bottle of champagne at my 
 left hand. Can you imagine a situation more 
 to a good fellow's mind? . . . Then you have 
 more imagination than judgment. . . . The 
 gods be praised that I am not a member of the 
 temperance society ! 
 
 " Would to fortune I could come to Haverhill 
 before my return to Hartford — but the thing is 
 impossible. I am running short both of time 
 and money. Well, we can live on and love, as 
 we have done. Once or twice I have even 
 thought that my feelings towards you had more 
 of romance in them than they possibly could 
 have if we were acquainted with each other. I 
 never yet met for the first time with a person 
 whose name I had learned to revere, without 
 feeling on the instant that the beautiful veil 
 with which my imagination had robed him was 
 
62 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 partially rent away. If you cannot explain this 
 matter, you are no philosopher." ^ 
 
 The " New England Review " was a Clay 
 paper, and Prentice's slashing articles attracted 
 so much attention that he was asked to go to 
 Kentucky for the purpose of writing a biography 
 of Clay, which was needed for the coming presi- 
 dential campaign. Prentice recommended that 
 Whittier take his place on the " Review," and 
 a proposal to this effect was made by the own- 
 ers, who offered a salary of five hundred dollars 
 a year. It was accepted by Whittier, and in 
 July, 1830, he began his new duties at Hartford, 
 thus heralded by his predecessor in his valedic- 
 tory address : — 
 
 " I cannot do less than congratulate my read- 
 ers on the prospect of their more familiar ac- 
 quaintance with a gentleman of such powerful 
 energies and such exalted purity and sweetness 
 of character. I have made some enemies among 
 those whose good opinion I value, but no rational 
 man can ever be the enemy of Mr. Whittier." 
 
 The verses and tales which Whittier contrib- 
 uted to the " Review " we must reserve for later 
 consideration. Our business now lies with his 
 success in his profession. On the " Manufac- 
 turer " he had been a novice ; on the " Gazette " 
 he had through experience learned confidence ; 
 
 1 Piekard, Life, i. 80. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 63 
 
 but both positions were narrow and inconspic- 
 uous compared with that which he now held. 
 Here his editorials were excellent : they showed 
 the crude sectionalism of the time, but they 
 were dignified and vigorous. He praised Web- 
 ster's rebuke to nullification : " Last session of 
 Congress was a proud one for New England — 
 for the whole country. The North was assailed 
 with the usual bitterness — but not as usual with 
 impunity. A giant was called up — one who 
 had borne until forbearance was not longer his 
 duty. He shook himself free of sectional pre- 
 judices ; and he spoke for the whole country — 
 for posterity." He upheld the tariff : " New 
 England has within herself resources — springs 
 of wealth and incentive to enterprise." The 
 party should therefore rally around Clay, " who 
 has sustained with a giant's strength the best 
 interests of the country." . . . The South is 
 merely jealous of the North ; she is really bene- 
 fited by the tariff of abominations on account 
 of the increase of ten per cent in the value of 
 agricultural products." He bewailed the cor- 
 rupt administration and lauded " the upright and 
 unbending politician — the eloquent and soul- 
 reaching orator — the dignified statesman — the 
 accomplished gentleman — the unwavering ad- 
 vocate of the people — Henry Clay. To him 
 we look for our political redemption ; to him we 
 
64 JOHN GREENLEAF WHIT TIER 
 
 turn in this dark day of our national existence, 
 ■with a strong hope and an earnest confidence." 
 
 It must be borne clearly in mind that at this 
 period Whittier was merely a young New England 
 journalist, a journalist of austere breeding and 
 with a tendency toward philanthropy, but not by 
 any means yet a reformer. A private letter of the 
 period shows that he was far from being ready 
 to take up the cause of the slave, whom he some- 
 times regarded rather as a nuisance than as an 
 oppressed creature ; and in his contributions to 
 his paper, though he praised Garrison's stand 
 in the matter of abolition, he did not himself 
 appear to take any greater interest in this re- 
 form than in others. His attitude was well ex- 
 pressed in an editorial of September 20, 1830 : 
 " I shall endeavor to aid the cause of morality 
 and national religion. A moral revolution is 
 going on around us — the voice of public opinion 
 is growing louder, and already the strongholds 
 of Vice are shaking to its responses, like the 
 walls of Jericho to the sound of the trumpet. 
 I shall seek to promote this glorious revolution. 
 I trust I shall never so far prostitute the intel- 
 lect which God has given me, as to become the 
 apologist of immorality and irreligion, whatever 
 shape they may assume, or under whatever name 
 they may appear." 
 
 In March, 1831, Whittier was called back to 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 65 
 
 Haverhill to assist in the settlement of his fa- 
 ther's estate, and while there fell ill. He con- 
 ducted the " Keview " from this distance for 
 some time, returned for a brief period to Hart- 
 ford, and then went back to the farm, resigning 
 his editorship with the end of 1831. 
 
 His experience in Hartford had been stimulat- 
 ing and valuable in every way. In Boston he 
 had been at a disadvantage. He was connected 
 with an obscure paper and associated, to a great 
 degree, with obscure people. His reputation as 
 a poet, already considerable, would have enabled 
 him eventually to make better connections,^ but 
 the time of his sojourn was too short. In Hart- 
 ford he found himself at the head of a well- 
 established and somewhat distinguished journal, 
 and was at once received into a compact and 
 brilliant society with strong literary interests. 
 The memory of the Hartford Wits still lingered, 
 and a new circle, composed of men and women 
 of solid acquirements and genuine attractiveness, 
 had gathered up around Percival, Brainard, and 
 
 1 " At that time, 1826, Boston was notoriously the literary 
 metropolis of the Union — the admitted Athens of America. 
 . . . Society was strongly impressed with literary tastes ; gen- 
 ius was respected and cherished : a man, in those days, who 
 had achieved literary fame, was at least equal to the president 
 of a bank, or a treasurer of a manufacturing company." — 
 S. G. Goodrich, Recollections of a Lifetime, Letter 45. 
 
66 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Mrs. Sigourney.^ He met the chief men of his 
 party, he visited New York on a confidential 
 political errand, and there became acquainted 
 with brother editors of larger fame and respon- 
 sibility ; in short, he grew rapidly as a man, 
 under these favorable influences, and advanced 
 rapidly in professional reputation. 
 
 Among the young women of this charming 
 circle he was particularly impressed by Miss Cor- 
 nelia Russ, daughter of Judge Russ, with whose 
 household he was on intimate terms. When 
 
 ^ " It was, I believe, through Mr. Wadsworth's ii]£ueiice that 
 Miss Hantley, now Mrs. Sigoiirney, was induced to leaye her 
 home in Norwich, and make Hartford her residence. This 
 occurred about the year 1814. Noiselessly and gracefully she 
 glided into our young social circle, and ere long was its presid- 
 ing genius. I shall not write her history, nor dilate upon her 
 literary career — for who does not know them both by heart ? 
 Tet I may note her influence in this new relation — a part of 
 which fell upon myself. Mingling in the gayeties of our social 
 gatherings, and in no respect clouding their festivity, she led 
 us all toward intellectual pursuits and amusements. We had 
 even a literary cotery under her inspiration, its first meetings 
 being held at Mr. Wadsworth's. I believe one of my earliest 
 attempts at composition was made here. The ripples thus be- 
 gun extended over the whole surface of our young society, 
 producing a lasting and refining effect. It could not but be 
 beneficial thus to mingle in intercourse with one who has the 
 angelic faculty of seeing poetry in all things, and good every- 
 where. Few persons living have exercised a wider infiuence 
 than Mrs. Sigoumey ; no one that I now know can look back 
 upon a long and earnest career of such unblemished benefi- 
 cence." — S. G. Goodrich, Recollections of a Lifetime, Letter 
 87. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 67 
 
 about to leave Hartford, he addressed her in the 
 following letter,! jjj ■^yliic]! admiration and caution 
 are oddly mingled : — 
 
 Thursday Afternoon, 
 
 Miss Russ, — I could not leave town without 
 asking an interview with you. I know that my 
 proposal is abrupt — and I cannot but fear that 
 it will be unwelcome. But you will pardon me. 
 About to leave Hartford for a distant part of 
 the country, I have ventured to make a demand 
 for which, under any other circumstances, I 
 should be justly censurable. I feel that I have 
 indeed no claims on your regard. But I would 
 hope, almost against any evidence to the con- 
 trary, that you might not altogether discourage 
 a feeling which has long been to me as a new 
 existence. I would hope that in my absence 
 from my own New England, whether in the 
 sunny South or the "Far West," one heart would 
 respond with my own — one bright eye grow 
 brighter at the mention of a — name, which has 
 never been, and I trust never will be, connected 
 with dishonor, — and which, if the Ambition 
 which now urges onward shall continue in vigor- 
 ous exercise, shall yet be known widely and well 
 — and whose influence shall be lastingly felt. — 
 
 But this is dreaming, — and it may only call 
 
 1 Published hy Professor W. L. Phelps, in the Century 
 Magazine, May, 1902. 
 
68 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 forth a smile. If so — I have too high an opin- 
 ion of your honorable feelings to suppose even 
 for a moment that you would make any use of 
 your advantage derogatory to the character of a 
 high-minded, and ingenuous girl 
 
 — I leave town on Saturday. Can you allow 
 an interview this evening or on that of Friday ? 
 If however you cannot consistently afford me the 
 pleasure of seeing you — I have only to resign 
 hopes dear to me as life itself, and carry with me 
 hereafter the curse of disappointed feeling. — 
 
 A note in answer will be waited for impa- 
 tiently. At least you will not deny me this. 
 Yrs. most truly — 
 
 J. G. Whittieb. 
 
 The reply to this epistle has not been pre- 
 served, but it was certainly a negative one. This 
 love of Whittier's was not his first nor was it 
 destined to be the last. Handsome in person, 
 sensitive in nature, he craved the sympathy and 
 affectionate companionship that woman gives 
 best, and this failure to establish a connection 
 which esteem and admiration dictated, and which 
 would have made permanent his relations with 
 a social circle so pleasing, was another of the 
 disappointments that now overwhelmed him. 
 
 On his return to Haverhill Whittier may well 
 have felt in despair. Various plans, one of going 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 69 
 
 to the West, and another of attending as a dele- 
 gate a convention of the National Republican 
 party at Baltimore, which was to nominate Clay 
 for the presidency, had to be given up on account 
 of illness. A rejected lover, cut off from a com- 
 munity from which he had been so much the 
 gainer, and in which he had doubtless expected 
 to settle permanently, he was prevented by con- 
 tinued ill health from following his chosen profes- 
 sion or from engaging in any other. No wonder 
 he spoke of himself as half sick, half mad. The 
 old farm which he had left so lightly became 
 then a sure refuge, and he took up, so far as he 
 was able, his old duties, while determining on 
 his future course. His letters, often couched in 
 the jaunty style which characterized his corre- 
 spondence at that period, reveal his melancholy 
 and the new turn which his ambitions were to 
 take. On January 5, 1832, he wrote as follows 
 to his friend Jonathan Law of Hartford : — 
 
 " Well, I have written, — or am going to, — 
 being the third time in which I have actually 
 written to you since I left Hartford, and delayed 
 because I expected to be the bearer of my own 
 epistle. I have been at home — that is to say, 
 in this vicinity — all the time, — half sick, half 
 mad. For the last fortnight I have been kept 
 close. Mr. Barnard has doubtless told you that 
 I started for Hartford about three or four weeks 
 
70 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 since, and was obliged to return. Now you may 
 suppose that I have got the 'hypo.' No such 
 thing. It is all as real as the nose on my face, 
 this illness of mine, — alas, too real. Nor am I 
 under the cerulean influence of the blue devils 
 now. The last blue-visaged imp has departed 
 with my exorcism ringing in his ears — ' Con- 
 juro te, seeleratissime, abire ad tuum locum.' 
 But nonsense apart, my dear sir, what shadows 
 we are, and what shadows we pursue ! We start 
 vigorously forward with something for our object 
 — up, up, among the very clouds ; we toil on, 
 we sacrifice present ease and present happiness ; 
 we turn from real blessings to picture future 
 ones — unsubstantial as the fabric of the summer 
 cloud or the morning mist. We press on for a 
 time, the overtaxed nerves relax from their first 
 strong tension, until the mysterious machinery 
 of our existence is shattered and impeded, until 
 the mind realizes that, chained down to material 
 grossness, and clogged with, a distempered and 
 decaying mortality, it cannot rise to heaven. 
 Perhaps it is well — indeed we know it is — that 
 this should be the end of human ambition. But, 
 oh, how humiliating to the vanity of our nature ! 
 " Now, don't imagine for one moment that I 
 have become morose and melancholy. Far from 
 it. I am among anxious friends. I have a 
 thousand sources of enjoyment, even in the 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 71 
 
 midst of corporeal suffering. I have an excel- 
 lent society here to visit and receive visits from, 
 — my early companions and those who have 
 grown up with me, who have known me long 
 and well. I have spent some time in Boston, 
 Salem, Marblehead, Audover, etc., among 'brave 
 men and fair women ; ' have dabbled somewhat 
 in local politics, and am extensively popular just 
 now on that account. The girls here are nice 
 specimens of what girls should be. You will 
 find a description of one or two of them in a 
 poem which I shall send you in a few weeks, 
 perhaps in less time, — a poem partly written at 
 your house, and which is being published. It 
 lay around in fragments, staring me everywhere 
 in the face, and at last, to get rid of it, I have 
 given it over to the bookmakers. They will have 
 a hard bargain of it. 
 
 " Decency forgive me ! I 've filled up two 
 pages with that most aristocratic little pronoun 
 which represents the writer of this epistle. Mis- 
 ery makes a man an egotist, the world over." ^ 
 
 A month later, February 2, 1832, he writes to 
 Mrs. Sigourney : — 
 
 "The truth is, I love poetry, with a love as 
 warm, as fervent, as sincere, as any of the more 
 gifted worshippers at the temple of the Muses. 
 I consider its gift as something holy and above 
 
 1 Pickard, Life, i. 97. 
 
72 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 the fashion of the world. In the language of 
 Francis Bacon, ' The Muses are in league with 
 Time,' — which spares their productions in its 
 work of universal desolation. ' But I fed and 
 know that 
 
 ' To other cboids than mine belong 
 The breathing of immortal song.' 
 
 And in consequence, I have been compelled to 
 trust to other and less pleasant pursuits for dis- 
 tinction and profit. Politics is the only field 
 now open for me, and there is something incon- 
 sistent in the character of a poet and modern 
 politician. People of the present day seem to 
 have ideas similar to those of that old churl of 
 a Plato, who was for banishing all poets from 
 his perfect republic. 
 
 " Did you ever read these lines from Halleck ? 
 
 ' But when the grass grows green aboTe me, 
 And those who know me now and love me 
 
 Are sleeping by my side, 
 Will it avail me aught that men 
 Tell to the world with lip and pen 
 
 That I have lived and died ? — 
 1^0 ; if a garland for my brow 
 Is growing, let me have it 7U>w^ 
 
 While I 'm alive to wear it ; 
 And if in whispering my name 
 There 's music in the voice of fame, 
 
 Like Garcia, let me hear it ! * 
 
 Now I feel precisely so. I would have fame 
 with me now, — or not at all. I would not 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 73 
 
 choose between a nettle or a rose to grow over 
 my grave. If I am worthy of fame, I would ask 
 it now, — now in the springtime of my years ; 
 when I might share its smile with the friends 
 whom I love, and by whom I am loved in return. 
 But who would ask a niche in that temple where 
 the dead alone are crowned ; where the green and 
 living garland waves in ghastly contrast over the 
 pale cold brow and the visionless eye ; and where 
 the chant of praise and the voice of adulation 
 fall only on the deafened ear of Death ? " ^ 
 To Mr. Law again in September, 1832 : — 
 " Even if my health was restored I should not 
 leave this place. I have too many friends around 
 me, and my prospects are too good to be sacri- 
 ficed for any uncertainty. I have done with 
 poetry and literature. I can live as a farmer, 
 and that is all I ask at present. I wish you could 
 make me a visit, you and Mrs. Law ; our situa- 
 tion is romantic enough, — out of the din and 
 bustle of the village, with a long range of green 
 hills stretching away to the river ; a brook goes 
 brawling at their foot, overshadowed with trees, 
 through which the white walls of our house are 
 just visible. In truth, I am as comfortable as 
 one can well be, always excepting ill health." ^ 
 And to Mrs. Sigourney in January, 1838 : — 
 
 1 Pickard, Life, i. 101. 
 
 2 Pickard, Life, i. 117. 
 
74 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 " I hope, my dear Mrs. S., you will not attrib- 
 ute my neglect to answer your letter, and to 
 acknowledge my obligations for the beautiful 
 notice of Brainard, to anything like disregard 
 on my part. All my friends are complaining of 
 me for not answering their letters. Continued 
 ill health and natural indolence, and the daily 
 duties of a large farm, viust be my excuse. Of 
 poetry I have nearly taken my leave, and a pen 
 is getting to be something of a stranger to me. 
 I have been compelled again to plunge into the 
 political whirlpool, for I have found that my 
 political reputation is more influential than my 
 poetical ; so I try to make myself a man of the 
 world — and the public are deceived, but / am 
 not. They do not see that I have thrown the 
 rough armor of rude and turbulent controversy 
 over a keenly sensitive bosom, — a heart of softer 
 and gentler emotions than I dare expose. Ac- 
 cordingly, as Governor Hamilton of South Caro- 
 lina says, I have ' put on athletic habits for the 
 occasion.' " ^ 
 
 It was to political life that his ambition had 
 plainly been tending for more than a year. The 
 prospects that were "too good to be sacrificed 
 for any uncertainty " were those of being sent 
 to Congress. The situation was this. Caleb 
 Cushing had been trying since 1826 to secure 
 
 1 Pickard, Life, i. 113. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 75 
 
 election to Congress as the representative of the 
 North Essex District; but though the Whigs 
 were usually in the majority, his enemies in his 
 own party defeated his purposes until 1834. As 
 success then depended upon majority and not 
 mere plurality, there were seventeen congres- 
 sional elections in the district between 1831 and 
 1833, all without avail. Mr. Gushing was will- 
 ing to transfer the candidacy for the present to 
 some person well disposed to him who could 
 unite the party factions. Whittier's friend Ed- 
 win Harriman was then editing the Haverhill 
 " Iris," to which Whittier often contributed ar- 
 ticles and poems, and he was interested in a pro- 
 ject by which Whittier should slip into Con- 
 gress in Cushing's place. The following letter 
 to him, written probably in August, 1832, will 
 show Whittier's desire for political success and 
 the lengths to which he was willing to go to 
 secure it. It was plain that he wished his friends 
 to understand that they would be the gainers by 
 helping him, and that the success of his plan for 
 preventing an election in November depended 
 to some degree upon his relations with his old 
 patron Mr. Thayer, the editor of the " Gazette," 
 who was an anti-Cushing man, and upon the 
 possibility of throwing dust in the eyes of both 
 factions. 
 
 " Since conversing with you yesterday, a new 
 
76 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 objection to our project has occurred to me : 
 the Constitution requires that the representa- 
 tive shall be twenty-five years of age. I shall 
 not be twenty-five till the 17th of December. So 
 that I would not be eligible at the next trial in 
 November. This, you will see, gives a different 
 aspect to the whole affair. Perhaps, however, 
 if the contest is prolonged till after the next 
 time, the project might be put in execution. 
 
 " Suppose you advocate a holding on to Mr. 
 C in your Newburyport letter? Suppose, too, 
 that you nominate in your paper Mr. Gushing 
 without any one-sided convention? After the 
 trial in November, you can then use the argu- 
 ments in favor of our plan which you propose to 
 do now ; and if it suits Mr. C. he can then re- 
 quest his friends to give their votes for some 
 other individual for the sake of promoting peace 
 in the district. The Kittredge committee would 
 in that case probably nominate a candidate, — if 
 one could be found, — but, I understand Mr. 
 Thayer, not with the expectation of his being 
 elected. 
 
 " If I were nominated after the November 
 trial, Mr. Thayer, situated as he and I relatively 
 are, would support the nomination, and let the 
 other candidate go, as he did John Merrill. 
 Purdy, the ' Telegraph,' and the ' Essex Regis- 
 ter ' would do the same. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 77 
 
 " The truth of the matter is, the thing would 
 be peculiarly beneficial to me, — if not at home 
 it would be so abroad. It would give me an op- 
 portunity of seeing and knowing our public char- 
 acters, and in case of Mr. Clay's election might 
 enable me to do something for myself or my 
 friends. It would be worth more to me now, 
 young as I am, than almost any office after I had 
 reached the meridian of life. 
 
 " In this matter, if I know my own heart, I 
 am not entirely selfish. I never yet deserted a 
 friend, and I never will. If my friends enable 
 me to acquire influence, it shall be exerted for 
 their benefit. And give me once an opportunity 
 of exercising it, my first object shall be to evince 
 my gratitude by exertions in behalf of those who 
 had conferred such a favor upon me. 
 
 " If you write to Newbury port to-day, you can 
 say that we are willing and ready to do all we 
 can at the next trial ; say, too, that the Kit- 
 tredge folks will scarcely find a candidate, and 
 that there may be a chance for Gushing better 
 than he has yet had; that at all events it can 
 do no harm ; and that if after that trial Mr. C. 
 sees fit to request his friends not to vote for 
 him for the 22d Congress, there will be as good 
 a chance then of electing a Gushing man as 
 there is now. Say, too, if you please, that I am 
 ready to go on with the contest, and you had 
 
78 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 better recommend mildness in the process of 
 electioneering." ^ 
 
 The scheme fell through, but the fact re- 
 mained that the men of the neighborhood had 
 faith in him and were willing to follow his lead- 
 ership. His experience in another state, his 
 power and reputation as a writer, his alert intel- 
 ligence and shrewdness in affairs, his strong 
 principles, not only made him a power in his dis- 
 trict but pointed to his advancement. It was at 
 this juncture that, in 1833, when fortune seemed 
 again smiling on his efforts, his conscience led 
 him to ally himself definitely with the then 
 unpopular abolitionists and thus to open for 
 himself a career as a reformer rather than as a 
 politician. 
 
 We must now turn aside from Whittier's 
 work as a professional journalist to see what 
 progress he was making in the art which was 
 most to distinguish him thereafter. Throughout 
 these years of changing ideals and renewed dis- 
 appointment he had been contributing verse or 
 narrative prose, almost every week, to the papers 
 that he was editing, as well as sending much to 
 other periodicals. The verse was greatly in ex- 
 cess of the prose, but the latter was by no means 
 inconsiderable. It must be remembered that at 
 1 Pickard, Life, i. 168. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 79 
 
 this time Whittier's instinct led him to prose as 
 well as to verse ; he was not yet able to determine 
 which was his distinctive medium, nor was he 
 yet sure of the special forms, whether of prose 
 or verse, of which he could best prove himself 
 the master, or of the material which he could 
 best use. In this period of experiment all that 
 he knew was that he must write what his heart 
 bade him. Just as Garrison, out of his passion 
 for reform, allied himself with many an untimely 
 movement, somewhat to the immediate detriment 
 of the cause he had most at heart, so Whittier, in 
 his passion for literary expression, was naturally 
 drawn into several kinds of writing which proved 
 to be wholly out of accord with his genius. 
 
 The least successful sort of prose which Whit- 
 tier undertook to compose in these years was 
 the half-humorous, reflective sketch, long in 
 popular favor, from Addison and Steele down, 
 in which the eccentric philosopher puts forth his 
 whims and fancies. To this class belongs Whit- 
 tier's " The Nervous Man," published in the 
 " New England Magazine," in 1832 and 1833, 
 in which with much affected learning and with 
 a jauntiness of style wholly consonant with some 
 of his letters of that period, he quotes Rubius 
 Celer and Reginald Scot, and discourses on By- 
 ron, coquettes of both sexes, and a multitude of 
 trivialities. To successful composition of this 
 
80 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 sort real wisdom and experience in the world of 
 men and of ideas are necessary, and in such 
 qualities, Whittier, bred in seclusion and mea- 
 grely educated, was but a babe. 
 
 Equally unsuccessful was Whittier's attempt, 
 characteristic of the time, to embody moral 
 lessons in narrative. We have already referred 
 to " The Gamester," published in 1827, in the 
 " Philanthropist," in which he set forth the sin 
 of gambling. In " Henry St. Clair," printed in 
 1830 in the " New England Eeview," the villain 
 took to drink and thereupon became a high- 
 wayman. A few other crude tales, of which 
 the " Opium Eater " is the only one preserved 
 in his collected works, portray similarly sudden 
 crimes, usually the result of intemperance, some- 
 times contrasted with equally shining virtues, 
 and it was not until after 1840 that Whittier 
 relinquished altogether this species of compo- 
 sition, to which the greatest skill in narrative 
 and in character-drawing are as indispensable as 
 is a moral purpose. It was perhaps a work 
 of this general sort that would have resulted 
 from his plan, happily abandoned, of writing 
 "a work of fiction which shall have for its 
 object the reconciliation of the North and the 
 South, — being simply an endeavor to do away 
 with some of the prejudices which have produced 
 enmity between the Southron and the Yankee. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 81 
 
 The style which I have adopted is about half- 
 way between the abruptness of Laurence Sterne 
 and the smooth gracefulness of W. Irving." ^ 
 
 The same deficiency in plot and character- 
 drawing marred his attempts at pathetic narra- 
 tive of the sentimental sort, after the model set 
 by Irving in the " Sketch Book," dealing mostly 
 with forsaken maidens and maddened lovers ; 
 a few similar experiments in tales of wonder, 
 plagues, and Eastern marvels, published like the 
 others anonymously, but probably to be attrib- 
 uted to him, in which, following Poe's predeces- 
 sors, he came to the outer borders of Poe's spe- 
 cial domain ; and even the stories in which he 
 put most heart, quaint or weird tales based on 
 legends native to the soil. 
 
 Whittier's first book, " Legends of New Eng- 
 land," published in Hartford in 1831, contains 
 seven prose sketches ^ of this last kind, most of 
 which had been published in the " New England 
 Magazine." They all deal with local material, 
 the white man's feud with the Indian and his 
 strife with the beasts of the woods, the Indian's 
 cruel rites, the fabled marvels of the wilderness. 
 
 1 Letter to Mrs. Sigourney, February 2, 1832, in Piokard, 
 Life, i. 101. 
 
 2 " The Midnight Attack," " The Rattlesnake Hunter," "The 
 Haunted House," " The Powwow," " The Human Sacrifice,'' 
 " A Night among the Wolves," and " The Mother's Revenge." 
 None of these was reprinted by Whittier in his Prose Works. 
 
82 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Crude in execution, they are yet good in sub- 
 stance, and represent as good work as was done 
 in sucli unusual and homely material until, a few 
 years later, Hawthorne began in the same maga- 
 zine a series of tales similar in essence, but in 
 which the humble facts were touched with gla- 
 mour. Whittier's preface indicated that he was 
 conscious of being a pioneer in fertile territory : 
 
 " In the following pages I have attempted to 
 present in an interesting form some of the 
 popular traditions and legends of New England. 
 The field is a new one — and I have but partially 
 explored it. New England is rich in traditionary 
 lore — a thousand associations of superstition 
 and manly daring and romantic adventure are 
 connected with her green hiUs and her pleasant 
 rivers. I leave the task of rescuing these asso- 
 ciations from oblivion to some more fortunate 
 individual, and if this little volume shall have 
 the effect to induce such an effort, I shall at 
 least be satisfied, whatever may be the judgment 
 of the public upon my own humble production 
 . . . written during the anxieties and perplexing 
 cares attendant upon the management of a politi- 
 cal and literary periodical." 
 
 His style, though it lacked the charm of Haw- 
 thorne's, showed the skill of the practised writer 
 and a feeling for the picturesque : — 
 
 " And those who battled with our fathers, or 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 83 
 
 smoked the pipe of peace in their dwellings, 
 where are they ? Where is the mighty people 
 which, but a little time ago, held dominion 
 over this fair land, from the great lakes to the 
 ocean ? Go to the hunting grounds of Mian- 
 tonimah and Annawon — to the royal homes of 
 Massasoit and Metacom and Sassacus, and ask 
 for the traces and memorials of the iron race of 
 warriors who wrestled with the pale Yengeese 
 even unto death. There will perhaps remain 
 the ruin of their ancient forts — the fragments 
 of their ragged pottery — the stone-heads of 
 their scattered arrows ; and, here and there, on 
 their old battle-fields, the white bones of their 
 slain ! And these will be all — all that remain 
 to tell of the perished race of hunters and war- 
 riors. The red man has departed forever. 
 The last gleam of his Council-fire has gone up 
 from amidst the great oaks of the forest, and 
 the last ripple of his canoe vanished from the 
 pleasant waters bosomed among them. His 
 children are hastening toward the setting of the 
 Sun, and the ploughshare of the stranger is busy 
 among the bones of his fathers." 
 
 In critical and expository essays, as might 
 have been expected, Whittier proved himself a 
 much more effective workman. In 1830 he 
 announced in the " Gazette " his intention of 
 publishing " a history of Haverhill, from its first 
 
84 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 settlement in 1640, to the present time. Our 
 present situation affords us an ample opportu- 
 nity for a thorough examination of the town 
 records, and for obtaining such information con- 
 nected with the early history of the town as may 
 be necessary for the accomplishment of our de- 
 sign." On leaving Haverhill he placed such 
 material as he had collected in the hands of 
 B. L. Mirick, a clerk of literary tastes and aspi- 
 rations, who published a " History of Haver- 
 hill " in 1832. It was a thin little volume, well 
 written, but containing little besides extracts 
 from the town records, or paraphrases of them, 
 with slight comment ; and it did not refer to any 
 part that Whittier had in its preparation. It 
 seems probable, however, from a careful exami- 
 nation of the style and contents, that Whittier 
 had a considerable share both in the selection of 
 material and in its presentation.^ 
 
 In the journals Whittier had edited he had 
 occasionally remarked on the merits of current 
 writers, native and foreign ; but the first long 
 piece of literary criticism — indeed, his first 
 considerable prose article that was not a ficti- 
 tious narrative — was an introduction to a post- 
 humous collection of the poems of J. G. C. 
 
 1 The copy in Whittier's library -was sent to him by Mr. 
 Garrison, and Mr. Pickard thinks that the fact that the title- 
 page is torn from it, reveals Whittier's indignation at the in- 
 justice done him. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 85 
 
 Brainard, published in 1832. In this essay of 
 thirty pages Whittier compels even the reader 
 of to-day to recognize the charm of Brainard's 
 character and work — his sensitive nature,^ his 
 
 ^ When we remember Whittier's disappointment in love, 
 known only to himself and to the subject of his addresses, we 
 can detect a reference to his own feelings which was perhaps 
 meant for her eye : — 
 
 " On leaving College, he returned to New London, and en- 
 tered the office of his brother, William F. Brainard, Esq., as a 
 Student at Law. While in this situation, he experienced a, 
 disappointment of that peciiliar nature, which so often leaves 
 an indelible impression upon the human heart. It probably 
 had some influence upon the tenor of his after life. It threw 
 a cloud between him and the sunshine ; — it turned back upon 
 its fountain a frozen current of rebuked affections. This 
 circumstance has been mentioned only as affording, in some 
 measure, a solution of what might have been otherwise inex- 
 plicable in the depression of his maturer years. Perhaps 
 there are few men of sensitive feelings and high capacities 
 with whom something of the kind does not exist, — something 
 which the heart reverts to with mingled tenderness and sor- 
 row, — one master chord of feeling the tones of whose vibra- 
 tions are loudest and longest, — one strong hue in the picture 
 of existence, which blends with, and perchance overpowers all 
 others, — one passionate remembrance, which, at times, like 
 the rod of the Levite, swallows up all other emotions. This 
 great passion of the heart, when connected with disappointed 
 feeling, is not easily forgotten. Mirth, wine, the excitement 
 of convivial intercourse, — the gayeties of fashion, — the strug- 
 gles of ambition, may produce a temporary release from its 
 presence. But a word carelessly uttered — a flower — a tono 
 of music — a strain of poetry, — 
 
 * Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound,' 
 may recall it again before the eye of the mind, — and the 
 
86 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 vein of quaint humor, his dignified bearing in 
 the face of approaching death, his fondness for 
 scenery, his love of local romance. This last he 
 described in words that reveal the passion for 
 New England and its early history which was 
 yearly growing stronger within him : — 
 
 " It has been often said that the New World 
 is deficient in the elements of poetry and ro- 
 mance ; that its bards must of necessity linger 
 over the classic ruins of other lands ; and draw 
 their sketches of character from foreign sources, 
 and paint Nature under the soft beauty of an 
 Eastern sky. On the contrary, New England is 
 full of Romance ; and her writers would do well 
 to follow the example of Brainard. The great 
 forest which our fathers penetrated — the red 
 men — their struggle and their disappearance — 
 the Powwow and the War-dance — the savage 
 inroad and the English sally — the tale of super- 
 stition, and the scenes of Witchcraft, — all these 
 are rich materials of poetry. We have indeed 
 no classic vale of Tempe — no haunted Parnas- 
 sus — no temple, gray with years, and hallowed 
 by the gorgeous pageantry of idol worship — no 
 towers and castles over whose moonlit ruins 
 gathers the green paU of the ivy. But we have 
 
 memory of the past — the glow and ardor of passion — the 
 hope — the fear — the disappointment — will crowd in upon 
 the heart." 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 87 
 
 mountains pillaring a sky as blue as that which 
 bends over classic Olympus : streams as bright 
 and beautiful as those of Greece or Italy, — 
 and forests richer and nobler than those which 
 of old were haunted by Sylph and Dryad." 
 
 The whole article shows how rapidly Whittier 
 was maturing. His allusions to current litera- 
 ture, to Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron, Southey, 
 Shelley, and Sterne indicate that the boy of a 
 few books had in four years become well ac- 
 quainted with the modern poetry of his own 
 tongue. And though he speaks loosely of Brain- 
 ard's merit, as when he declares that he pub- 
 lished, " week after week, poems which would 
 have done honor to Burns and Wordsworth," or 
 that a passage in the pleasant " Address to the 
 Connecticut River " contains " nothing dim, or 
 shadowy, or meagre in its outlines, — it is the 
 penciling of a Leonardo da Vinci, full of life 
 and vigor and beauty," still he has his eye fixed on 
 the main truth, that here was a sincere and plain 
 poet, who like Burns and Wordsworth wrote sim- 
 ply of simple things, and like a great artist aimed 
 to reveal a charming landscape in all its essen- 
 tial beauty. Another article on " New England 
 Superstitions " (1833) is equally well written, 
 and full of that special folk-lore which none 
 knew better than he. Here, even more plainly 
 than in the essay on Brainard, the affectation 
 
88 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 and imitation of style disappears, and weakness 
 of structure is exchanged for strength of con- 
 ception and vigor of execution. The man — the 
 clear-thinking, simple-hearted countryman — de- 
 clares himself, and we see the qualities of mind 
 and heart that were to do good service in the 
 cause of freedom. 
 
 Even more interesting was the progress Whit- 
 tier was making in poetry, — a progress of which 
 the ordinary reader can have no conception. In 
 the body of the volume of his collected poetical 
 works appear only five poems belonging to this 
 period, and in the Appendix only fifteen more, 
 in all not a tithe of the verses he wrote and pub- 
 lished. His own attitude with regard to his 
 early works was unduly severe, perhaps preju- 
 diced by the quietism of his later years. The 
 ordinary reader is therefore unaware of the 
 existence of a large number of verses that have 
 almost equal claims on his attention with what 
 is already published, and is further bewildered 
 by the unchronological arrangement of the poems 
 in the current edition, which presumes arbitrarily 
 to put asunder what custom, history, and the 
 orderly development of genius agree in uniting. 
 
 We shall fail, too, in getting a right under- 
 standing of Whittier's progress if we do not 
 connect it with the strong feeling then generally 
 current in America, and particularly in New 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 89 
 
 England, that America must produce a literature 
 of her own. Never did man more eagerly await 
 the birth of an heir who should complete his 
 happinfess and perpetuate his line, than did New 
 England, already two centuries old, and proud 
 of her individuality, long for a poet who should 
 signally embody her in verse. Until such a gen- 
 ius should arise, national and community life 
 was barren of its crowning joy. Many were the 
 speculations as to the signs of his coming. The 
 fickle looked now here and now there ; the igno- 
 rant and vain declared that not one poet but 
 many had already appeared. The learned and 
 fastidious deliberated whether there was aught 
 in the nature of a republic that made it sterile 
 in letters. Writing about 1800, Fisher Ames 
 said that the point at issue was whether we can 
 have a literature. " Our honors have not faded 
 — they have not even been won. Genius no 
 doubt exists in our country, but it exists, like 
 the unbodied soul on the stream of Lethe, un- 
 conscious of its powers, till the causes to excite 
 and the occasions to display it, shall happen to 
 occur. As the years roll by, with the accumu- 
 lation of wealth there will be an increase of the 
 numbers who may choose a literary leisure. 
 Literary curiosity will become one of the new 
 appetites of the nation, and as luxury advances, 
 no appetite will be denied. After some ages we 
 
90 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 shall have many poor and a few rich, many 
 grossly ignorant, a considerable number learned, 
 and a few eminently learned. Nature, never 
 prodigal of her gifts, will produce men of genius 
 who will be admired and imitated." 
 
 Predictions come rapidly to pass. The age of 
 literary curiosity was begun in New England. 
 Not only in the larger centres, but in many a 
 village and town, students, merchants, farmers, 
 and factory workers alike shared in that interest 
 in poetry, and the cry was louder than ever for 
 children of the blood who should sing the deeds 
 of the race and voice its deeper feelings. Why 
 should this blessing be denied us ? Are we un- 
 worthy ? Is nature in this our land not noble ? 
 Nay, said Knapp in 1829, the time has come: — 
 
 " Here nature presents her beauties in as deli- 
 cate forms, and her wonders in as bold relief, as 
 she has in the birthplace of the muses. She has 
 laid the foundation of her mountains as broad, 
 and raised their tops as high as in the old world. 
 What are the Tibers and Scamanders, measured 
 by the Missouri and the Amazon ? Or what the 
 loveliness of Illyssus or Avon, by the Connecti- 
 cut or the Potomac ? The waters of these Amer- 
 ican rivers are as pure and sweet, and their 
 names would be as poetical, were they as famil- 
 iar to us in song, as the others, which have been 
 immortalized for ages. Whenever a nation wills 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 91 
 
 it, prodigies are born. Admiration and patron- 
 age create myriads who struggle for the mastery, 
 and for the Olympick crown. Encourage the 
 game, and the victors will come. In the smiles 
 of publick favour, poets will arise, yea, have al- 
 ready arisen, whose rays of mental fire will burn 
 out the foul stain upon our reputation, given at 
 first by irritated and neglected genius, and con- 
 tinued by envy and malice — that this is the 
 land 
 
 ' Where fancy sickens, and where genius dies.' 
 
 "... I have no hesitation in saying, that we 
 abound in good poets, whose writings will remain 
 to make up the literature of a future age ; nor 
 would I yield my admiration for their produc- 
 tions to others who are prodigal of praise when- 
 ever their works appear ; but at this time I am 
 not prepared to say whether Pierpont or Bryant 
 be the greater poet, or whether Percival has 
 higher claims to immortality than his brethren 
 of the ' enchanted grounds and holy dreams ; ' 
 nor whether she [Mrs. Sigourney] of ' the banks 
 of the Connecticut,' whose strains of poetick 
 thought are as pure and lovely as the adjacent 
 wave touched by the sanctity of a Sabbath's 
 morn, be equal to her tuneful sisters, Hemans 
 and Landon, on the other side of the water, or 
 superior to her more sprightly rivals on this." ■' 
 
 1 Samuel L. Knapp, Lectures on American Literature, 187. 
 
92 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Whenever a nation wills it, prodigies are born. 
 When a nation is strong and its life rich, it 
 must create poets. The desire spread, and deter- 
 mination grew. In 1839 a young commence- 
 ment orator at Cambridge expressed the pre- 
 valent feeling when he said : — 
 
 " We are looking abroad and back after a lit- 
 erature. Let us come and live, and know in liv- 
 ing a high philosophy and faith ; so shall we find 
 now, here, the elements, and in our own good 
 souls the fire. Of every storied bay and cliff we 
 will make something infinitely nobler than Sala- 
 mis or Marathon. This pale Massachusetts sky, 
 this sandy soil and raw wind, all shall nurture 
 us. . . . Unlike all the world before us, our own 
 age and land shall be classic to ourselves." ^ 
 
 Wbittier must be regarded, then, as one of a 
 group of New England men and women who, at 
 the beginning of the second quarter of the cen- 
 tury, were eagerly laboring to follow the dictates 
 of their natures, to fulfill their ambitions, and to 
 meet the expectation of many about them, by 
 expressing — in ways which they could but dimly 
 feel — the poetic sentiment of their communities. 
 It was the birth period of the New England 
 poets, destined to wax so strong between 1840 
 and 1865. They all began, as poets must, by 
 imitation. They followed chiefly the British 
 
 ^ Quoted in T. W. Higginson, Cheerful Yesterdays, 166. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 93 
 
 writers of the new, the romantic school, with 
 whose temper of mind and attitude toward na- 
 ture and man they had much in common. It 
 was over the civilized world a time of emotion- 
 alism in verse. Emotionalism revealed itself in 
 the love of the mediaeval and the oriental, — 
 both realms in which conventionalism seemed 
 absent ; in the keener sentiments with which 
 scenery was regarded, as if the power of sight 
 had been stimulated and trained ; in a fond- 
 ness for the exquisitely beautiful, for the wild 
 and terrible and extraordinary ; in a desire to 
 be thrilled by tales of madness and crime, to be 
 torn with sympathy for the suffering ; in reli- 
 gious fervor and in enthusiasm for humanita- 
 rian reform. This great quickening of the emo- 
 tions made Scott and Byron and Shelley and 
 Keats, and just as surely it declared itself in 
 Whittier and Longfellow and Lowell, in Haw- 
 thorne and Emerson, brother romanticists all. 
 
 Whittier's part in this movement was impor- 
 tant. Bryant had already produced his noble 
 early poems, inspired by the austere life and 
 austere scenerj' surrounding him in his child- 
 hood ; Lowell was a frivolous boy. BrainardJ 
 the man of greatest promise, was dead ; Willis, 
 although so popular, was of no real importance ; 
 and the leaders in the obscure forward march 
 were Poe, Longfellow, and Whittier. To Poe, 
 
94 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 as a disciple of Coleridge, belonged the advance 
 on the purely artistic side, the evolution of mel- 
 ody. Longfellow was an avowed scholar, though 
 destined soon to come back to poetry with the 
 intent of creating a literature on foreign models. 
 Whittier was the only man of genius who was 
 attacking the problem directly. 
 
 Every step in his development is therefore of 
 interest. We may neglect his few moralizing 
 poems, on temperance and the like, as barren 
 experiments, not to be renewed ; and his rare 
 attempts in the manner and matter of Coleridge 
 — in particular a rhymed tale called the " Fire 
 Ship," which follows closely the " Ancient Mar- 
 iner," and another, " The Demon Lover," which 
 is, with equal obviousness, inspired by " Chris- 
 tabel:" — 
 
 " The dog is baying in the clear 
 Still beauty of the antumn morn ; 
 But nevermore, with heedful ear 
 And kindling eye, that dog shall hear 
 The echoes of his master's horn/' 
 
 There remain two main lines of endeavor, his 
 experiments in the style of Byron and his exper- 
 iments in the style of Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 " Peter Parley " has preserved in his admir- 
 able memoirs a record of the startling effect 
 produced in staid New England by the poems of 
 Byron : — 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 95 
 
 " Campbell's ' Pleasures of Hope ' and Eogers' 
 ' Pleasures of Memory ' were favorite poems from 
 1800 to 1815 ; and during the same period 
 ' Thaddeus of Warsaw,' the ' Scottish Chiefs,' 
 the ' Pastor's Fireside,' by Jane Porter ; ' Sand- 
 ford and Merton,' by Day ; ' Belinda,' ' Leonora,' 
 ' Patronage,' by Miss Edgeworth ; and ' Coelebs 
 in Search of a Wife,' Hannah More, were types 
 of the popular taste in tales and romances. It 
 was therefore a fearful plunge from this elevated 
 moral tone in literature, into the daring if not 
 blasphemous skepticisms of the new poet." ^ 
 
 Many circumstances combined to bring Whit- 
 tier strongly uuder the influence of the new 
 poetry and the new conception of poetic material 
 and poetic method. Bred in isolation, he had 
 been suddenly thrust out into the jostling world ; 
 nourished on the writings of quietists, he now 
 became familiar with the heart-outpourings of 
 more ambitious, less saintly spirits ; trained to 
 manual labor, where reward is commensurate 
 with toil, he found himself suddenly in a profes- 
 sion in which influential connections and mental 
 dexterity played an important part. A few years 
 before, he had been a farmer's lad, an appren- 
 tice cobbler, a schoolboy. Now he was at the 
 head of a prominent journal, in communication 
 with party leaders. He had been disappointed 
 1 S. G. Goodrich, Becollections of a Lifetime, Letter 35. 
 
96 JOHN GREEN LEAF WHITTIER 
 
 in love, jeered at for his lack of social standing ; * 
 he was raw, sensitive, bewildered, but fiercely 
 ambitious. It was no wonder that in his grop- 
 ings after some guide in the darkness, he laid 
 hold of the most powerful influence of his time, 
 — the rebellious and despairing Byron. 
 
 The mood of Byron is thus predominant in 
 his verses of 1829-1832. Commenting on Whit- 
 tier's remarks on English poetry in the review 
 of Brainard's work, a brother editor in Hartford 
 remarked that his mind was evidently of the 
 Byronic cast, and in his letters and in his articles 
 are evidences of the hold which Byron held on 
 his imagination. Writing to a friend, a lady, in 
 1831, he speaks of his hatred of reserve and 
 cant, of his many disappointments, of his deter- 
 mination to be known as something else than a 
 writer of rhymes, of a high goal to be won in 
 the strife of men. To Prentice he wrote in 1830 
 that he has " read Byron's own relation of him- 
 self [in Moore's biography] with sorrow, with 
 deep anguish," and adds : — 
 
 " I am haunted by an immedicable ambition 
 
 1 Joseph Snelling, in his Truth, a New-Year's Gift for 
 Scribblers (1831), had thus satirized him ; — 
 
 *' The wax still sticking to his fingers' ends, 
 The upstart Wh-tt-r, for example, lends 
 The world important aid to understand 
 What 's said, and sung, and printed in the land." 
 
 S. G. Goodrich, Recollections of a Lifetime, footnote, Letter 46. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 97 
 
 — perhaps a very foolish desire of distinction, 
 of applause, of fame, of what the world calls 
 immortality. ... I cannot look upon the world 
 with kindness — however much I desire to do so. 
 It has neglected, it has wronged me, and its idle 
 praise is little less repulsive to me than its loud 
 and open rebukes. Yet there is a strange pas- 
 sion in our nature (which I deem but the warm 
 aspiring of an immortal mind, seeking some 
 angelic fellowship) that suggests eternal schemes 
 of ambition, little likely to be fulfilled. I own 
 myself, reluctantly, subject to these influences. 
 Deeply as I despise the follies and abhor the 
 crimes of society, I would not depart from this 
 sphere of trial without leaving behind me a 
 name to be remembered when I am dust. Then 
 whither goes the soul ! " 
 
 In general, much of his verse was equally 
 Byronic. In a poem beginning " How wearily 
 the night goes on" (1829), he complains of not 
 being able 
 
 " to pour the heartless strain 
 Among the groTelling things of earth.' 
 
 His hopes are dead : — 
 
 " The world has not heen kind to me, 
 And I have met with cold disdain, . . 
 For I have known the cold repulse 
 Which wealth can ofifer to the low." 
 
 Hence there arises in him demoniac hatred and 
 
98 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 the mad desire for vengeance. In his narrative 
 poems, also, there are Byronio themes and remi- 
 niscences ; one poem at least deals with an inci- 
 dent in Byron's life. In " Moll Pitcher " (1832), 
 a long narrative poem dealing with the fortune- 
 teller of Lynn, though the form is in imitation 
 of Scott, the substance — the witch's revenge, 
 the madness of the heart-broken girl — is By- 
 ronio in character. Byronic, too, is the author's 
 thirst for fame, expressed at the opening of the 
 second canto, though omitted in the edition of 
 1840 : — 
 
 " Land of my fathers ! — if my name, 
 Now humble and unwed to fame, 
 Hereafter bum upon the lip, 
 
 As one of those which may not die, 
 Linked in eternal fellowship 
 
 With visions pure and strongs and high — 
 If the wild dreams, which quicken now 
 The throbbing pulse of heart and brow, 
 Hereafter take a real form 
 Like spectres changed to being warm ; 
 And over temples worn and gray 
 
 The star-like crown of glory shine, — 
 Thine be the bard's undying lay, 
 
 The murmur of bis praise be thine ! " 
 
 And to the same source seems to be due not only 
 the form but the theme of the " Minstrel Girl " 
 (1829), that of the famous singer whose despair 
 at her lover's death had driven her to religious 
 seclusion. 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 99 
 
 This predominant influence was due to the 
 disturbing stimulus of the new and larger world, 
 to which he was yet imperfectly adjusted, and 
 was completely foreign to the quietism of Whit- 
 tier's early training and of his later feelings. 
 Fortunately, it was modified by two other influ- 
 ences, that of Scott and that of Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 Scott showed him that the richest poetical 
 material lay in the legends of his country's past. 
 Romantic-minded as Whittier naturally was, and 
 versed in the local history of New England, he 
 was thus on the verge of the discovery that the 
 life of the olden time could be best expressed in 
 ballad verse. The substance of splendid poems 
 was in his mind, but the right form was wanting. 
 The dying Indian chieftain, the helpless captive 
 of the pirates at Marblehead, the spectre war- 
 riors and the phantom ship, — these and other 
 themes equally striking appear in the verses col- 
 lected in " Legends of New England." But the 
 treatment was that of Scott's narrative verse, 
 and the effect was mediocre. 
 
 Scott's influence brought Whittier more whole- 
 some material, but his growth on the equally 
 important side of form seems to have been due 
 to his own long-continued practice under the 
 influence of his old idol, Mrs. Hemans. For a 
 time he seemed to own allegiance to the now 
 almost forgotten sentimentalist. Miss Landon, 
 
100 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 " L. E. L.," of whom he had said in the " Man- 
 ufacturer " that she "laid open to the world the 
 secrets of a heart exquisitely alive to earnest and 
 clinging affections," and to whom he addresses 
 verses in the " New England Review " containing 
 the prophecy : — 
 
 " The gifted ones in after years shall worship at thy shrine, 
 And Earth's high spirits joy to hold companionship with 
 thine.'' 
 
 And the analytic reader would no doubt also find 
 traces in his work of the influence of his friend 
 Mrs. Sigourney, whose writing much resembled 
 that of L. E. L. But some instinct held him to 
 his experiments in the vein of Mrs. Hemans, the 
 romantic, narrative, lyric treatment of striking 
 historical events ; and, wonder of wonders, in the 
 midst of these juvenile scrawlings suddenly ap- 
 peared the handiwork of the artist. In the scores 
 of scores of poems he had written up to 1832 
 there were only three of any possible value, — 
 " The Song of the Vermonters," the sole worthy 
 achievement of his school-days, "The Vaudois 
 Teacher," and " The Star of Bethlehem." These 
 last were both printed in 1830 and are both pre- 
 served in his collected works ; of both Mrs. He- 
 mans might have been the author. But while 
 the originality is slight, the growth in skill is 
 notable. For once the hand is steady and the 
 outlines clear. In both he had chanced on sub- 
 
JOURNALIST AND POLITICIAN 101 
 
 jects attractive to Protestants ; both dealt with 
 the spread of the gospel, with that strange re- 
 modelling of the world through the new message 
 of the evangels, — a mission profuse in pictur- 
 esque incident, a romantic as well as a philan- 
 thropic mission, which, in its new form, was 
 firing many of the finest minds in England and 
 America with religious passion. Both appealed 
 to the people at large, and "The Vaudois 
 Teacher," translated into French, became a 
 household classic among the Waldenses. Both 
 move swiftly ; and in " The Star of Bethlehem," 
 in such lines as 
 
 " And what am I, o'er such a land 
 The banner of the Cross to bear ? 
 Dear Lord, uphold me with Thy hand, 
 
 Thy strength with human weakness share 1 " 
 
 we hear for an instant the anticipatory note — 
 the special tone, melody, and manner of his 
 maturer years. 
 
 In brief, we have in these few years the most 
 pathetic period in Whittier's career. Nurtured 
 in the veriest nook of the world, and bred a 
 quietist, he had been flung out into the outer 
 regions of disillusionment. Love drove him 
 hither and yon ; ambition seized him ; he was 
 pelted, praised, snubbed, satirized ; he saw the 
 seeming hollowness of life ; he felt rebellious 
 despair. And now, broken in health, doubly 
 
102 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 disappointed in love, he was thrown back into 
 the peaceful hillside nook of his boyhood, there 
 to brood over his part in life until, a year later, 
 reality conquered fantasy, and he laid hold of 
 the work that was his and not another's. Mean- 
 while his art was growing as his intellect devel- 
 oped, nourished by the great underlying currents 
 of patriotism and religion. Little that he had 
 written would match the poems contained in 
 the earliest volume of good American verse, — 
 the "Miscellaneous Poems Selected from the 
 United States Literary Gazette " (1826), — that 
 austere group of verses by Bryant, Percival, and 
 Longfellow. But in 1832 Percival's best work 
 was done ; Bryant was a lawyer, journalist, and 
 politician, and was destined never to surpass 
 those early productions ; Longfellow was likely 
 to be little more than a clever schoolmaster; 
 Willis was placidly and continually trivial ; Poe's 
 star was scarcely above the horizon. There was 
 nowhere in America a writer of verse with more 
 immediate promise than Whittier, and he was a 
 sick man in the old house at the back of Job's 
 Hill, disgusted with poetry and planning how he 
 could best get to Congress. 
 
CHAPTEE IV 
 
 THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 
 1833-1840 
 
 The crisis in Whittier's life was the moment 
 when, throwing aside his Byronic passion for 
 fame, his selfish zeal for political preferment, he 
 identified himself with the abolitionist move- 
 ment, then the most forlorn of forlorn hopes. 
 He that loseth his life shall save it: the sacri- 
 fice of self, the devotion to a humanitarian end, 
 brought out the nobler side of his genius, and 
 gave him, when he no longer desired it, the fame 
 he once had craved. As he said in later years 
 to a boy seeking counsel, "My lad, if thou 
 wouldst win success, join thyself to some unpop- 
 ular but noble cause." What it personally meant 
 to Whittier to take this stand, what the direc- 
 tion was which it gave to his verse and his prose, 
 cannot be understood without a careful survey 
 of the movement. 
 
 The romantic movement in letters was merely 
 one side of a wave of tender feeling which swept 
 over almost all civilized nations, and which was 
 at its height in America during the second 
 
104 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 quarter of the nineteenth century. The rational 
 movement of the preceding century had led to 
 theoretical independence and equality among the 
 whites in the United States. At the same time 
 it was not to be disputed that the country was far 
 from unified. The Union had been made up of 
 various groups of communities, each group abid- 
 ing by its own laws and customs, and while hold- 
 ing necessary commercial relations with others, 
 not having any close sympathy with them. This 
 old tribal or sectional feeling still held firm, 
 both in New England and in the South, under- 
 neath the superficies of national feeling, and 
 not until after the recent Spanish war could the 
 unification and nationalization of the country be 
 regarded as reasonably complete. But in spite 
 of this crude and selfish sectional feeling there 
 was working throughout the land, and notably 
 among New Englanders, a marked altruistic 
 sentiment, a growing pity for the unfortunate or 
 sinful members of their own or other communi- 
 ties. The same sentiment existed also in England 
 and Scotland, and may in general be regarded 
 as a working out into general practice of the 
 individualistic forces of Puritanism, and as par- 
 ticularly connected with the various dissenting 
 sects, all of which were marked by a keen and 
 tender realization of the brotherhood of man. 
 But the influence of the church must not be 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 105 
 
 regarded as directly potent in this altruistic 
 development. Indeed, the church, essentially a 
 conservative force when once firmly established, 
 had often to be reformed from within before it 
 would take up these movements for the refor- 
 mation of the outer world. That is but natural. 
 The movers in any marked social change must 
 be such as are psychologically able readily to 
 form new associations, to group the facts of life 
 in a new way. Men whose brains have this 
 flexibility are rarely the learned or the rich. 
 They are more likely to be simple-minded folk, 
 or even outcasts, who have not been bred into 
 conformity with a fixed pattern of life, who have 
 not learned to regard the world as bound by 
 strict laws. Certainly, not to states or churches 
 or colleges belongs the honor of inaugurating 
 the abolitionist movement. All of these long 
 stood in the way. In the country and in the 
 hearts of simple farmers and mechanics grew the 
 seeds of reform that had been planted by the re- 
 ligious revolt of the seventeenth century, that were 
 nourished by the political revolt of the eight- 
 eenth century, and were now brought to blossom 
 by the emotional revolt of the nineteenth century. 
 This altruistic feeling was oddly compounded 
 of pity and dogmatism. " You unfortunate oth- 
 ers who are intemperate or slaves or heathen," 
 it seemed to say, " you are to be pitied ; govern- 
 
106 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 ment and custom have combined to keep you on 
 the wrong path ; but I have discovered the right 
 path, and in the face of all opposition, I, though 
 I stand alone, will put you on it, whether you 
 wish it or not." And so arose temperance agi- 
 tators and temperance societies, abolitionists and 
 abolition societies, missionaries and missionary 
 societies, and hosts of minor reformers, a perfect 
 army of pestering people, mad for reconstructing 
 state and church and society, thrusting their 
 appeals and their advice in the face of the whole 
 world. All common sense and common prudence 
 discountenanced their extreme doctrines. Mostly 
 poor, such reconstructionists frequently depended 
 for their support upon the community, subjected 
 their wives to hardships, and condemned their 
 children, of whom there was usually no scarcity, 
 to enter the fierce battle of life without help from 
 their parents. Thus breaking all the laws of 
 orderly family growth, and of the upbuilding of 
 righteousness by regular means, they persisted 
 that they were chosen of the Lord not to labor 
 as ordinary men, but to be supported by others 
 while they were elevating the morals of the 
 world. On the side of their self-appointed duties 
 they were by necessity extremists, pressing upon 
 the world violent reforms, destroying vested 
 interests, going counter to long-established cus- 
 toms. And yet these men, with their tendency 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 107 
 
 to shiftlessness, with their bad manners and im- 
 perfect education, slaves of a new idea, were in 
 reality what they claimed to be, — the lever by 
 which civilization was to be hoisted from its old 
 rut, the purifiers of ancient abuses ; and among 
 them were a few who were the most saintly, the 
 most noble, and the most far-seeingly logical of 
 their generation. It was to this motley band of 
 reformers that Whittier ■s^as now to aUy himself, 
 under the special banner of abolitionism. " A just 
 survey of the whole world can leave little doubt," 
 wrote Harriet Martineau, " that the abolitionists 
 of the United States are the greatest people now 
 living and moving in it." ^ 
 
 In America slavery had been generally con- 
 demned by the most advanced thinkers and the 
 most humane minds. The abolition of slaves, 
 Jefferson wrote in 1774, is the great object of 
 our desire. The first step towards that end was 
 the stopping of importation ; but such laws as 
 were made by Virginia to that effect were vetoed 
 by the king, and Burke declared that this refusal, 
 for the sake of gain, to aid the suppression of 
 this inhuman traffic was one of the causes of the 
 struggle for independence. In 1787 an ordinance, 
 voted for even by the Southern delegates, prohib- 
 ited slavery in the great Northwestern territory, 
 out of which new states were to be carved. There 
 
 1 London and Westminster Review, December, 1838. 
 
108 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 was still a strong feeling against the importation 
 of slaves, but the Carolinas and Georgia, for 
 economic reasons, persisted in upholding the 
 practice, and rather than lose their support a 
 compromise was made, and it was agreed that 
 importation was not to be prohibited until 1808. 
 At that time importation into the West Indies 
 was still allowed by Great Britain, and the atti- 
 tude of the United States was, on the whole, in 
 advance of the times. In the last decade of the 
 eighteenth century, there was much agitation in 
 favor of abolition, but it was finally determined 
 that, -as Congress was pledged not to stop impor- 
 tation until 1808, it had no authority to interfere 
 in the affairs of states in favor of emancipation. 
 When the term of years was reached, and the 
 importation of slaves was prohibited, it was 
 generally felt that the question was settled. 
 Slavery was abandoned in the North, and its 
 further increase in the South by importation was 
 stopped ; it was expected that it would be pro- 
 hibited in the new states and would decrease in 
 the old. The abolition societies were disbanded 
 and the claims of humanitarianism were satisfied. 
 But rapid progress in economic conditions 
 brought about unexpected results. The inven- 
 tion of the cotton gin, and the enormous profit 
 to be derived through its use by blacks in regions 
 where whites could not work, drew several states 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 109 
 
 into raising almost nothing except cotton, and 
 turned them away from manufacturing. Slaves 
 were used up more rapidly in the unfavorable 
 climates ; and as importation was forbidden, it 
 became profitable to breed them, in favorable 
 climates, to supply the increasing demand. A dis- 
 tinct group of plantation states was thus formed 
 and perpetuated, based on an economic basis of 
 property in man. In these a distinct form of 
 society grew up, a society rich, cultivated, and 
 intelligent, but economically reactionary, in that 
 it rested on a principle of patriarchal control 
 which, in that special form, the civilized world 
 was rapidly discarding. It soon became impos- 
 sible for Southerners to conceive of living under 
 any other system. Tariff legislation only in- 
 creased the difference between the Northern and 
 the Southern systems, and the growing wealth 
 of the section was an argument for content. In 
 the South all sensible people deplored slavery ; 
 but how could it be changed ? It was apparently 
 destined that an inferior race should labor for 
 them in this fashion ; any other arrangement 
 was inconceivable ; and they were aU naturally 
 anxious to extend this familiar social organization 
 into new and contiguous states. On the other 
 hand, the North, while attached to its own sys- 
 tem and anxious to extend it into other states, 
 was indifferent to slavery in the South. The 
 
110 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 North profited by its relations with the South, 
 and hence by slavery. Slavery was an evil, but 
 not one of the North's making, nor one that lay 
 within its legal power to attack. As Daniel 
 Webster, who represented the best opinion of 
 the North, said in his debate with Hayne, " The 
 slavery of the South has always been regarded 
 as a matter of domestic policy left with the 
 states themselves, and with which the federal 
 government had nothing to do. ... I regard 
 domestic slavery as one of the greatest evils, 
 both moral and political. But whether it be a 
 malady and whether it be curable, and if so, by 
 what means ; or, on the other hand, whether it 
 be the vulnus immedicahile of the social system, 
 I leave it to those whose right and duty it is to 
 inquire and decide. And this I believe is, and 
 uniformly has been, the sentiment of the North." 
 But only the part of the North which was 
 bound by the conventions of trade and state and 
 church was wholly indifferent to slavery. More 
 open minds everywhere, and particularly the 
 inhabitants of certain rural districts, knew it to 
 be a gigantic evil ; and people who had been 
 brought into connection with European criti- 
 cism were ashamed of the vital inconsistency 
 between the spirit of liberty contemplated by 
 the theory of American institutions and the sad 
 fact of a civilization that was so largely based on 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 111 
 
 slavery. Even their uneasy consciences, how- 
 ever, were often lulled to rest by the apparent 
 activity of the Colonization Society, in which 
 slave-owners were largely interested, and on 
 which church and state alike looked with favor. 
 Its aim was to encourage the emigration to 
 Africa or Haiti of free blacks, and many hoped 
 that voluntary emancipation would soon swell 
 the numbers of these emigrants and decrease 
 rapidly the slave population. 
 
 It was at this juncture that Benjamin Lundy, 
 a deaf little Quaker, indefatigable in his efforts 
 to promote colonization, began publishing his 
 " Genius of Universal Emancipation," and la- 
 boring in a very humble way to create a pub- 
 lic opinion in the South in favor of some plan 
 of voluntary emancipation. In 1828 he visited 
 Boston and tried in vain to get the attention and 
 support of the clergymen. They turned a deaf 
 ear and a dull mind to his entreaties, but he was 
 eagerly listened to by William Lloyd Garrison, 
 who was determined to give his life to humani- 
 tarian reforms. Shortly afterwards Garrison 
 went to Bennington, Vt., to edit an Adams 
 paper, in which incidentally he advocated gradual 
 emancipation for slaves, and he was also inter- 
 ested in the petition of 1829 for emancipation 
 by the central government of slaves in the Dis- 
 trict of Columbia. His devotion to this species 
 
112 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 of reform grew rapidly, and in 1829 he joined 
 Lundy in Baltimore and became co-editor of the 
 " Genius of Universal Emancipation," bringing 
 into that mild paper the aggressive methods 
 of a political ]'oumalist. He attacked the local 
 slave trade vigorously, and finally, in the absence 
 of his colleague, he roundly berated a Newbury- 
 port shipmaster who took a cargo of slaves from 
 Baltimore to New Orleans, was promptly sued 
 for libel, and as promptly convicted by a Balti- 
 more jury. Unable to meet the large fine, he 
 lay for some weeks in jail, until released by the 
 payment of it by a New York philanthropist. 
 
 Garrison was a man of iron resolve, and pun- 
 ishment only fanned his indignation to white 
 heat. He returned to Boston and began at once 
 an active propaganda. He now saw two things 
 plainly : first, the colonization idea was a hin- 
 drance and not a help, and gradual emancipa- 
 tion led nowhere ; second, it was immediate and 
 unconditional emancipation and residence as a 
 freeman on American soil that was the slave's 
 right. This doctrine, almost absolutely novel at 
 that time, he preached with vehemence, publicly 
 and privately, in the autumn of 1830. He soon 
 converted to his way of thinking a few humani- 
 tarians, of whom young Unitarian clergymen 
 formed an important part. On January 1, 1831, 
 without capital, and aided only by an old friend. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 113 
 
 Knapp, who was a journeyman printer, and a 
 colored boy, he began to publish the " Liberator," 
 which bore the motto, " Our country is the 
 world — our countrymen are mankind." His 
 announcement of his purpose said flatly : " Urge 
 me not to use moderation in a cause like the 
 present. I am in earnest — I will not equivo- 
 cate — I wiU not excuse — I will not retreat a 
 single inch — And I will be Heakd." 
 
 Garrison and his little band thus boldly ar- 
 rayed themselves against the hard and fast 
 opinions of the society surrounding them. Ne- 
 groes were generally thought to be a happy-go- 
 lucky race, fairly well off in bondage. The 
 South bitterly resented any criticism of its social 
 and economic system. Merchants did not wish 
 a question raised that shook the foundations of 
 that system. The church thought slavery a part 
 of the divine plan of affairs, to be bettered only 
 by colonization. The ministers did not purpose 
 to have the public taught its moral duty by any 
 one not a properly accredited representative of a 
 religious body. College professors objected to 
 being instructed in their duty by a young and 
 obscure journalist. Garrison's idea was natu- 
 rally thought to be pure fanaticism, and no 
 modern anarchist is now regarded as more dan- 
 gerously subversive of sound economic and polit- 
 ical doctrine than was he. 
 
114 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Thougli the dogma of immediate emancipation 
 attracted unusual attention, it did not at first 
 spread rapidly. A little band of a dozen or 
 more had joined with Garrison in forming, in 
 January, 1832, the New England Anti-Slavery 
 Society. The " Liberator " gained a few sub- 
 scribers, and was as widely circulated as the 
 slender means of the reformers would allow. It 
 preached incessantly that the slaves were held in 
 unlawful bondage, and the implication was that 
 they would be justified in revolting. Garrison 
 was far from encouraging them to do so, and 
 the " Liberator " was not put into the hands of 
 slaves ; but when the Nat Turner insurrection 
 of 1831 came, the South naturally connected 
 it with Garrison's propaganda, and was enraged 
 that a Northern state should allow the publica- 
 tion of such a dangerous and seditious sheet. 
 Boston in its turn was enraged that a sister state 
 could have such just cause for reproach against 
 her. North and South alike, people called for 
 the repression by law of the " Liberator." 
 
 In 1832 and 1833 the agitation spread more 
 rapidly, increased by the publication in 1832 of 
 Garrison's " Thoughts on African Colonization," 
 and in 1833 by the act of Great Britain in 
 emancipating the slaves in her West Indian 
 colonies. The hatred of the abolitionists was 
 meanwhile growing more bitter, and in 1883, 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 115 
 
 when Miss Prudence Crandall of Canterbury, 
 Conn., attempted to open a school for the educa- 
 tion of free negro girls, the whole town rose in 
 arms, treating her with legal severity and per- 
 sonal indignity. It was at this stage of public 
 opinion that two fairly well-known writers, 
 Whittier and Mrs. Lydia Maria Child, made 
 plain their sympathy with the new movement by 
 publishing respectively, in 1833, "Justice and 
 Expediency " and " An Appeal in Favor of that 
 Class of Americans called Africans." 
 
 What it meant to come flatly out as an abolition- 
 ist at that time should be clearly borne in mind. 
 Men of humane views, North and South, were 
 opposed- to slavery, in principle or in practice or 
 in both ; but to assert the theory of unconditional 
 emancipation was to promulgate a startling and, 
 to most minds, a frightfully dangerous doctrine. 
 It meant the overthrow of our political and 
 social system : it meant universal suffrage, it 
 meant amalgamation, it meant the civilization of 
 South America and the West Indies. No won- 
 der men stood aghast. Now Whittier was an 
 anti-slavery man by virtue of his Quaker birth- 
 right, but so far he had not identified himself 
 with the abolitionists. His reference in the 
 " New England Review " to the establishment 
 of the " Liberator " was kindly but not enthusi- 
 astic ; he apparently regarded Garrison's propa- 
 
116 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 ganda for abolition in just the same light as any 
 othen humanitarian effort, — as that for tem- 
 perance, for example, — and, ill as he was at 
 the time, he had taken no share in the formation 
 of the New England Anti-Slavery Society in 
 
 1832. It must not be forgotten, moreover, that 
 his mind was so set on political preferment, and 
 he apparently had so clear a chance of represent- 
 ing his district in the next Congress, that he was 
 ijot in close communication with his non-political 
 friends. But an accident brought him again 
 under Garrison's direct influence. In March, 
 
 1833, Garrison, about to sail for England on the 
 statesmanlike mission of cutting off the powerful 
 British support given his arch-enemy, the Coloni- 
 zation Society, wrote incidentally to some young 
 ladies at HaverhiU : — 
 
 "You excite my curiosity and interest still 
 more by informing me that my dearly beloved 
 Whittier is a friend and townsman of yours. 
 Can we not induce him to devote his brilliant 
 genius more to the advancement of our cause, 
 and kindred enterprises, and less to the creations 
 of romance and fancy, and the disturbing inci- 
 dents of political strife ? " ^ 
 
 " You think my influence will prevail with my 
 dear Whittier more than yours. I think other- 
 wise. If he has not already blotted my name 
 
 1 William Lloyd Garrison, i. 331, March 4. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST IIT 
 
 from the tablet of his memory, it is because his 
 magnanimity is superior to neglect. We have 
 had no correspondence whatever, for more than 
 a year, with each other! Does this look like 
 friendship between us? And yet I take the 
 blame all to myself. He is not a debtor to me 
 — I owe him many letters. My only excuse is 
 an almost unconquerable aversion to pen, ink, 
 and paper (as well he knows), and the numerous 
 obligations which rest upon me, growing out of 
 my connection with the cause of emancipation. 
 Pray secure his forgiveness, and tell him that 
 my love to him is as strong as was that of David 
 to Jonathan. Soon I hope to send him a contrite 
 epistle ; and I know he will return a generous 
 pardon." ^ 
 
 This chance correspondence led Garrison to 
 send to Whittier (March 22, 1833) a letter 
 apologizing for his long silence and urging him 
 to turn his pen to philanthropic and particularly 
 to abolitionist uses. 
 
 "I presume you have been busy with your 
 pen — your elastic, vigorous, glowing pen — and 
 are preparing to surprise and delight the public. 
 Study to make your productions as much distin- 
 guished for their usefulness as their brilliancy, 
 and you will bless mankind. 
 
 " My brother, there are upwards of two million 
 
 1 William Lloyd Garrison, i. 331, March 18. 
 
118 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 of our countrymen who are doomed to the most 
 horrible servitude which ever cursed our race 
 and blackened the page of history. There are 
 one hundred thousand of their offspring kid- 
 napped annually from their birth. The southern 
 portion of our country is going down to destruc- 
 tion, physically and morally, with a swift descent, 
 carrying other portions with her. This, then, is 
 a time for the philanthropist — any friend of his 
 country, to put forth his energies, in order to let 
 the oppressed go free, and sustain the republic. 
 The cause is worthy of Gabriel — -yea, the God 
 of hosts places himself at its head. Whittier, 
 enlist ! — Your talents, zeal, influence — all are 
 needed." ^ 
 
 Garrison suggested a visit to Haverhill, where 
 Whittier, as he requested, found him a meeting- 
 house in which he could speak on slavery, and 
 on April 3 Garrison wrote to Miss Harriet Minot 
 of the pleasure the trip had given him. " But," 
 he concludes, " pleasant as it is to behold the face 
 of Nature, it has no beauty like the countenance 
 of a beloved friend. Sweet is the song of birds, 
 but sweeter the voices of those we love. To see 
 my dear Whittier once, full of health and manly 
 beauty, was pleasurable indeed." ^ 
 
 1 Manuscript in the possession of the Misses Johnson and 
 Mrs. Woodman. 
 " William Lloyd Garrison, i. 332. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 119 
 
 The reference to David and Jonathan was not 
 a mere figure of speech. The personal intimacy 
 between the two young men had never been 
 great, but there existed between them a strong 
 bond of friendship. They came from the same 
 district ; they had the same humanitarian in- 
 stincts. Garrison had been the means of awak- 
 ening Whittier's desire for an education and 
 later of leading him into journalism, and his 
 faith in Whittier's ability had been unfailing. 
 " Our friend Whittier," he wrote in the Benning- 
 ton "Journal of the Times" in 1828, "seems 
 determined to elicit our best panegyrics, and not 
 ours only, but also those of the public. His 
 genius and situation no more correspond with 
 each other than heaven and earth. But let him 
 not despair. Fortune will come, ere long, ' with 
 both hands full.' " ^ Whittier had induced Clay 
 to move — too late, as it happened — in freeing 
 Garrison from his Baltimore imprisonment, and 
 he had felt for him and his reform the admira- 
 tion expressed in his verses " To William Lloyd 
 Garrison," published in the Haverhill " Gazette " 
 in November, 1831 : — 
 
 " I loTe thee with a brother's love, 
 I feel my pulses thrill, 
 To mark thy spirit soar above 
 The cloud of human ill. 
 
 1 William Lloyd Garrison, i. 115. 
 
120 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 My heart hath leaped to answer thine, 
 
 And echo back thy 'words, 
 As leaps the warrior's at the shine 
 
 And flash of kindred swords 1 " 
 
 They were now to work side by side in the abo- 
 lition movement, and though Garrison was from 
 first to last its head and front, Whittier also 
 played an important part. With the same end 
 in view, they eventually chose widely different 
 but equally effective means. 
 
 Whittier had perhaps already made up his mind 
 to join the anti-slavery movement before Garri- 
 son's brief visit to Haverhill. But that visit must 
 have strengthened his purpose and hastened the 
 coming of the sleepless nights which overtook 
 him when he realized what effect on his political 
 aspirations such an action would have. " Justice 
 and Expediency : or, Slavery Considered with a 
 View to its Eightful and Effectual Remedy, 
 Abolition," was published in June, 1833, but in 
 May he wrote to Caleb Cushing, the rising poli- 
 tician of his district, the following letter, char- 
 acteristic, in the absence of exuberance and in its 
 mild-spoken craft, of the more manly mood into 
 which he had now entered : — 
 
 " About a fortnight ago, I took up a pamphlet 
 containing your remarks at the colonization 
 meeting in Boston. In that frankness which 
 accords with my ideas of doing to others as I 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 121 
 
 would be done by, I cannot but say that I deeply 
 regret this publication. So far as literary merit 
 is concerned the speech is worthy of you, but I 
 dissent from your opinions most radically, and 
 so do a great majority of the people in this 
 vicinity. I shall probably send you in a week 
 or two a pamphlet on the subject of slavery, 
 written hastily and under many disadvantages. 
 Most of the facts it contains you are probably 
 already acquainted with. There may be some, 
 however, which have escaped your observation, 
 I beg of you to lend your mind to the investi- 
 gation of this most momentous question, believ- 
 ing as I do that you can do a great deal for the 
 cause of suffering humanity. I should like to have 
 you make this pamphlet and others recently pub- 
 lished on the subject the basis of an article in 
 some of our reviews or magazines. That you 
 will differ from me I know, and shall therefore 
 expect to be handled without gloves, but credit 
 me, my dear sir, I had much rather fall under 
 the stoccado of a gentlemanly and scientific 
 swordsman than be bunglingly hewed in pieces 
 like Agag of old under the broadaxe of the 
 Prophet. I have only time again to beg you, 
 whatever may be the result of this trial, to allow 
 yourself to be a candidate still. Sooner or later 
 we must triumph." ^ 
 
 1 Piokard, Life, i. 126. 
 
122 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Garrison's " Thoughts on Colonization " had 
 been aimed directly at the organization for get- 
 ting free negroes out of the country, which, as 
 he clearly saw, was the greatest obstacle in the 
 way of the new movement ; Wright's " Sin of 
 Slavery " was directed to the conscience of the 
 community; Mrs. Child's "Appeal" was the 
 successful attempt of a popular writer to place 
 before the public a large amount of necessary 
 but miscellaneous information about the negro, 
 of whose abilities she entertained somewhat 
 romantic ideas. Whittier's pamphlet, as might 
 have been expected, was purely and simply a 
 political tract. In the solitude of his farm he 
 had been studying Burke and Milton, and the 
 method of the former and the spirit of the lat- 
 ter had impressed him deeply.^ His idea was 
 to make a telling argument in favor of the pro- 
 position that abolition was expedient as well as 
 just. He showed briefly that colonization was 
 ine£Eective, and then proceeded to prove as well 
 as he could, from the results of emancipation in 
 St. Domingo and elsewhere, that "Historical 
 facts ; the nature of the human mind ; the de- 
 monstrated truths of political economy ; the ana- 
 
 ^ In old age he declared that his whole life had felt the in- 
 fluence of Milton's writings (Mrs. Fields, Whittier, 41) and his 
 marked copy of Milton's political essays hears witness to the 
 same fact. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 123 
 
 lysis of cause and effect, all concur in establish- 
 ing : 1. That immediate abolition is a safe and 
 just and peaceful remedy for evils of the slave 
 system. 2. That free labor, its necessary con- 
 sequence, is more productive, and more advan- 
 tageous to the planter than slave labor." ^ 
 
 To the modern reader, with the later history 
 of Haiti in mind, the argument is anything but 
 conclusive. It is plea rather than proof. Whit- 
 tier had not enough evidence at his disposal to 
 make a telling argument. Yet his attempt, with 
 all its lack of judicial tone, was on the right 
 track, and was consonant with his special share in 
 the abolition movement, — an insistence on the 
 appeal to reason, a wish to reach the end desired 
 only by legal means. Immediate emancipation, 
 he said, was merely in contrast with gradual 
 emancipation : — 
 
 " Earnestly as I wish it, I do not exjJect, no 
 one expects, that the tremendous system of 
 oppression can be instantaneously overthrown. 
 The terrible and unrebukable indignation of a 
 free people has not yet been sufficiently concen- 
 trated against it. The friends of abolition have 
 not forgotten the peculiar organization of our 
 confederacy, the delicate division of power be- 
 tween the states and the general government. 
 They see the many obstacles in their pathway ; 
 
 1 " Justice and Expediency," in Prose Works, iii. 34. 
 
124 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 but they know that public opinion can overcome 
 them all. They ask no aid of physical coercion. 
 They seek to obtain their object not with the 
 weapons of violence and blood, but with those 
 of reason and truth, prayer to God, and entreaty 
 to man."i 
 
 Public opinion, expressed through the suf- 
 frage, was, then, to be the means of emancipation. 
 Nothing but a strong, unequivocal expression of 
 public sentiment was needed. " Let Delaware 
 begin the work, and Maryland and Virginia 
 must follow ; the example will be contagious ; 
 and the great object of universal emancipation 
 will be attained." 
 
 Whittier's pamphlet attracted immediate at- 
 tention. He had published five hundred copies 
 at his own expense, thus sacrificing what must 
 have been the savings of the whole winter ; but 
 through the kind offices of Lewis Tappan of New 
 York, it ^as reprinted as number four, volume 
 one, of the monthly " Anti-Slavery Reporter," 
 five thousand copies of which were distributed, 
 and it was also printed in the Providence " Jour- 
 nal." The Southern papers resented this new 
 attempt at interference with their local social 
 system, and the Richmond "Jeffersonian and 
 Times " introduced an extract from it with the 
 statement that it exhibited " in strong colors the 
 
 ^ " Justice and Expediency, " in Prose Works, iii. 26. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 125 
 
 morbid spirit of false and fanatical philanthropy 
 which is at work in the Northern states, and, to 
 some extent, in the South." Whittier's reply, 
 " The Abolitionists : Their Sentiments and Ob- 
 jects," 1 published in the Haverhill " Gazette," 
 was almost as long as the original pamphlet, and 
 was in most respects cautious and conciliatory. 
 He was merely " a humble son of New England, 
 — a tiller of her rugged soil," and it mattered 
 little personally whether words of praise or 
 opprobrium reached him from beyond the nar- 
 row limits of his immediate neighborhood. His 
 remarks were, at that busy season of the year, 
 written hastily and in the brief intervals of 
 labor. But 'he must defend his cause from the 
 charge of fanaticism, and he went on to review 
 the ground, pointing out the traditional Vir- 
 ginian desire for emancipation, the advantage 
 to her in emancipation, and the reason why the 
 rest of the Union was vitally concerned in her 
 action, and was therefore protecting its own 
 rights rather than needlessly interfering in the 
 affairs of others. 
 
 An important convert, Whittier was now fully 
 committed to the movement, and in December 
 of the same year, 1833, he assisted as one of the 
 delegates from Massachusetts in the solemn 
 founding, in Philadelphia, of the American Anti- 
 
 1 Keprinted in Prose Works, iii. 58. 
 
126 JOHN GREENLEAP WHITTIER 
 
 Slavery Society. " I set a higher value on my 
 name as appended to the Anti-Slavery Declara- 
 tion of 1833," he used afterwards to say, " than 
 on the title-page of any book." It was indeed 
 an honor and a privilege. It confirmed his dedi- 
 cation to a noble cause, and set him apart, once 
 and for all, from the selfish individualism of the 
 politician. 
 
 The men with whom he was now allied, and 
 their fervor of conviction, he himself best de- 
 scribed in 1874, in his remarkably vivid " Anti- 
 Slavery Convention of 1833 : " i — 
 
 " Looking over the assembly, I noticed that it 
 was mainly composed of comparatively young 
 men, some in middle age, and a few beyond that 
 period. They were nearly all plainly dressed, 
 with a view to comfort rather than elegance. 
 Many of the faces turned towards me wore a 
 look of expectancy and suppressed enthusiasm. 
 All had the earnestness which might be expected 
 of men engaged in an enterprise beset with diffi- 
 culty and perhaps with peril. The fine intel- 
 lectual head of Garrison, prematurely bald, was 
 conspicuous. The sunny-faced young man at his 
 side, in whom all the beatitudes seemed to find 
 expression, was Samuel J. May, mingling in his 
 veins the best blood of the Sewalls and Quincys, 
 — a man so exceptionally pure and large-hearted, 
 
 1 Prose Works, iii. 171. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 127 
 
 so genial, tender, and loving, that he could be 
 faithful to truth and duty without making an 
 enemy. . . . That tall, gaunt, swarthy man, 
 erect, eagle-faced, upon whose somewhat martial 
 figure the Quaker coat seemed a little out of 
 place, was Lindley Coates, known in all eastern 
 Pennsylvania as a stern enemy of slavery. That 
 slight, eager man, intensely alive in every fea- 
 ture and gesture, was Thomas Shipley, who for 
 thirty years had been the protector of the free 
 colored people of Philadelphia, and whose name 
 was whispered reverently in the slave cabins of 
 Maryland as the friend of the black man, one 
 of a class peculiar to old Quakerism, who in 
 doing what they felt to be duty and walking as 
 the Light within guided them knew no fear and 
 shrank from no sacrifice. Braver men the world 
 has not known. Beside him, differing in creed, 
 but united with him in works of love and charity, 
 sat Thomas Whitson, of the Hicksite school of 
 Friends, fresh from his farm in Lancaster 
 County, dressed in plainest homespun, his tall 
 form surmounted by a shock of unkempt hair, 
 the odd obliquity of his vision contrasting 
 strongly with the clearness and directness of his 
 spiritual insight. Elizur Wright, the young 
 professor of a Western college, who had lost his 
 place by his bold advocacy of freedom, with a 
 look of sharp concentration in keeping with an 
 
128 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 intellect keen as a Damascus blade, closely 
 watched the proceedings through his spectacles, 
 opening his mouth only to speak directly to the 
 purpose. . . . Vermont sent down from her 
 mountains Orson S. Murray, a man terribly in 
 earnest, with a zeal that bordered on fanaticism, 
 and who was none the more genial for the mob 
 violence to which he had been subjected. In 
 front of me, awakening pleasant associations of 
 the old homestead in Merrimac valley, sat my 
 first school-teacher, Joshua Coffin, the learned 
 and worthy antiquarian and historian of New- 
 bury. A few spectators, mostly of the Hicksite 
 division of Friends, were present, in broad brims 
 and plain bonnets, among them Esther Moore 
 and Lucretia Mott. 
 
 " The reading of the paper [the declaration 
 of principles] was followed by a discussion which 
 lasted several hours. A member of the Society 
 of Friends moved its immediate adoption. ' We 
 have,' he said, ' all given it our assent : every 
 heart here responds to it. It is a doctrine 
 of Friends that these strong and deep impres- 
 sions should be heeded.' The convention, never- 
 theless, deemed it important to go over the 
 declaration carefully, paragraph by paragraph. 
 During the discussion one of the spectators asked 
 leave to say a few words. A beautiful and 
 graceful woman in the prime of life, with a face 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 129 
 
 beneath her plain cap as finely intellectual as 
 that of Madame Roland, offered some wise and 
 valuable suggestions in a clear, sweet voice, the 
 charm of which I have never forgotten. It was 
 Lucretia Mott of Philadelphia. The president 
 courteously thanked her, and encouraged her to 
 take a part in the discussion. On the morning 
 of the last day of our session the declaration, 
 with its few verbal amendments, carefully en- 
 grossed on parchment, was brought before the 
 convention. Samuel J. May rose to read it for 
 the last time. His sweet, persuasive voice fal- 
 tered with the intensity of his emotions as he 
 repeated the solemn pledges of the concluding 
 paragraphs. After a season of silence, David 
 Thurston of Maine rose as his name was called 
 by one of the secretaries, and affixed his name 
 to the document. One after another passed up 
 to the platform, signed, and retired in silence. 
 All felt the deep responsibility of the occasion : 
 the shadow and forecast of a lifelong struggle 
 rested upon every countenance." 
 
 The abolitionists now grew in numbers and 
 strength with surprising rapidity. Every man's 
 hand had at first been raised against them. Pre- 
 sidents, governors, and mayors treated them as 
 brawling disturbers of the national peace. The 
 church charged them with disrespect for the 
 divinely established order of the world. Citi- 
 
130 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 zens — good and bad, rich and poor — joined 
 to mob them. The popular fury reached its 
 height in 1835 and 1836. When Garrison 
 visited England in 1833 he had not only broken 
 the back of the interest felt there for the absurd 
 colonization scheme, but had' roused the enthu- 
 siasm of George Thompson, an eloquent speaker 
 who had done much to bring about the English 
 emancipation laws and who was now willing to 
 devote himself to a corresponding work in Amer- 
 ica. When he arrived, in 1834, Americans were 
 furious. They were angry with Garrison for 
 having betrayed his country by insisting on her 
 shame in his English addresses, but their rage 
 at being taught their duty by a foreigner was 
 naturally boundless. An Englishman, one of 
 the nation against whom we fought for freedom, 
 teach MS what freedom is ! Rewards were said 
 to have been offered for his life. Certainly he 
 was in many places greeted with abuse and vio- 
 lence, and it was on his account that the famous 
 "broadcloth" riot of 1835 took place, in which 
 he was roughly treated by a mob that included 
 " many gentlemen of property and standing." 
 
 ' But events moved so rapidly, and the natural 
 dislike for a troublesome reform was so far 
 counteracted by that passion for free speech 
 which is the basic virtue of New Englanders, 
 that by 1837 the worst of popular opposition 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 131 
 
 was past ; and in the reaction of the public mind 
 that followed the Lovejoy murder a Faneuil 
 Hall meeting was held in which the abolitionists 
 took almost the place of honor. By this time, 
 too, they had many auxiliary societies and many 
 important adherents. Men of letters, to be sure, 
 were still lacking. Longfellow was buried in 
 his pleasant books ; Hawthorne was a recluse ; 
 Lowell was in his callow years, and had satirized 
 the abolitionists in his class-day poem ; Emer- 
 son, following lines of more abstract thought, 
 was suspicious of mundane reformers. But con- 
 stant additions were being made to the ranks 
 of the party; and when in 1836 the "great" 
 Dr. Channing brought out his carefully consid- 
 ered book against slavery, — weak and faltering 
 though it was, and at its best merely a repeti- 
 tion of what the abolitionists had been saying 
 since 1831, — the ice of conservative gentility 
 was first broken. 
 
 Just when the horizon was thus clearing for 
 the abolitionists, it was darkened by dissensions 
 in the midst of their own body, — dissensions 
 which were accompanied by bitterness and heated 
 dispute at the time, and which were thought to 
 be a source of weakness, but which, after the 
 lapse of more than half a century, we now recog- 
 nize as merely divisions due to natural differ- 
 ences of motive and policy. 
 
132 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Garrison was the last of the great Puritan 
 prophets. His scheme of thought and action 
 was exclusively moral and religious. He advo- 
 cated many reforms. He upheld the equal 
 rights of women ; he held some of the vague 
 religious doctrines of the perfectionists; he 
 looked confidently towards a millennium of right- 
 eousness ; he was a non-combatant ; he regarded 
 earthly and civic governments as temporary 
 evUs without divine sanction ; he deprecated the 
 extreme insistence of the church on such minor 
 matters as the keeping of the Sabbath. The 
 greatest moral force of his time, he was rigorous 
 in his condemnation of all faltering and compro- 
 mise, of aU alliance with evil. He depended for 
 the attainment of his aims on the moral regen- 
 eration of man. Around him as their leader, 
 and the " Liberator " as their standard, gathered 
 a groiip of devoted men and women, — Wendell 
 Phillips, Edmund Quincy, Mrs. Chapman, and 
 Mrs. Child, — "the Boston clique," who held 
 fast to this main doctrine of emancipation 
 through the moral and religious education of the 
 people. As time went on, they advocated dis- 
 union, and explicitly disavowed allegiance to a 
 government that permitted slavery. 
 
 Whittier, on the other hand, showed his Quaker 
 training. His family and his sect had been dis- 
 senters, reformers, and " come-outers " for cen- 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 133 
 
 turies, and he took things more quietly and more 
 shrewdly. The world was not all to be reformed 
 at once. One thing at a time. The main end 
 to be secured at that moment was abolition ; all 
 other reforms, about which there might be differ- 
 ence of opinion, must be subordinated to it. He 
 acknowledged Garrison as the originator of the 
 movement and its greatest force, but he deplored 
 his terrible earnestness of utterance, which per- 
 manently alienated his opponents ; his tendency 
 to obscure the main issue by taking up minor 
 reforms ; his refusal to entertain the idea of 
 political coalition. In this general attitude he 
 was in accordance with the more common feeling 
 in New York State and city and in Philadelphia, 
 and in particular with bis colleagues, Elizur 
 Wright, Theodore B. Stanton, and Gerrit Smith. 
 This difference of opinions as to ways and 
 means led eventually to a fairly sharp division of 
 abolitionists into two classes — the old organiza- 
 tion or Garrisonians, and the new organization. 
 The first split, queerly enough, came on the right 
 or advisability of women's taking a prominent 
 or official part in abolitionist meetings. Garri- 
 son insisted that they should stand on the same 
 footing as men and encouraged their speaking. 
 In this he seemed to be clearly on the right side, 
 for many of the important abolitionists were 
 women. But the public was not yet accustomed 
 
134 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 to the idea of women's concerning themselves in 
 matters of state, and Whittier and his friends 
 were anxious that obloquy should not fall on the 
 cause on this account. As for himself, he was 
 not unaccustomed, through Quaker custom, to 
 the equality of the sexes in important matters ; 
 and though he thought it better that women 
 should confine themselves mainly to domestic 
 a£Eairs and avoid undue publicity, his objection 
 was largely the prudent one of a desire not to 
 give offense. He would have had abolitionism 
 win its way, unencumbered, to the hearts of the 
 people. When, therefore, in 1837 the General 
 Association of Orthodox Congregational churches 
 in Massachusetts published a Pastoral Letter, 
 claiming for the parish minister the exclusive 
 right of determining what moral teachings should 
 be addressed to the people of his town, and sin- 
 gling out for censure the practice of lecturing 
 by women, Whittier, though he satirized the 
 clerical position in spirited verses, was inclined 
 to think that his predictions had been justified. 
 Indeed, when the New England Anti-Slavery 
 Society and the American Anti-Slavery Society 
 adopted Garrison's views on the subject of 
 women, and held more rigidly aloof from con- 
 certed political action, he joined with those who 
 preferred to cut loose from Garrison's influence 
 and direction and to form an organization of 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 135 
 
 their own. By 1839 a considerable body in cen- 
 tral New York, of whom Stanton was chief, fa- 
 vored the formation of a political anti-slavery 
 party. That year saw the establishment of a 
 new paper in Boston, the " Massachusetts Aboli- 
 tionist," which was the organ of the new Massa- 
 chusetts Abolitionist Society, and the next saw 
 the formation of a third political party through 
 a convention held at Albany. In the same year 
 the American Anti-Slavery Society, the old or- 
 ganization, disapproved political action and ap- 
 proved women's rights, insisting on sending 
 women as delegates to the "World's Anti-Slavery 
 Convention in London. 
 
 With the main steps in this political and 
 philanthropic movement clearly in mind, we may 
 now turn to Whittier's part in it, and to his 
 more individual life, if he can be said to have 
 had an individuality at all in a period when body 
 and soul alike had no inspiration and no duty 
 save that of devotion to a cause. 
 
 The change back to the old soil and the home 
 life gave him strength again. The tone of com- 
 plaint and despair disappeared from his letters ; 
 the selfish note of purely personal ambition van- 
 ished. Though frequently prostrated by illness, 
 it was clear that his health was essentially better 
 while he lived on the farm and as a farmer. To 
 a friend he wrote in 1833 that he was as busy 
 
136 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 with his farm as a beaver building his dam and 
 that the blues had left him. It was a life of se- 
 vere economy, of meagre results, but it kept the 
 brain clear for his great purpose, and left him the 
 long evenings free for his writing ; and it is plea- 
 sant to think of this handsome young Quaker, 
 with his flashing eyes and military bearing, driv- 
 ing " his team in the autumn to Rocks Bridge, 
 which is at the head of tidewater in the Merrimac, 
 where the coasting vessels from Maine then came, 
 carrying apples and vegetables to exchange for 
 salt fish to eke out the winter stores." ^ 
 
 But it was only by heroic endeavor that he 
 could serve his cause. On February 25, 1834, 
 he writes thus to Elizur Wright, then secretary 
 of the American Anti-Slavery Society, explain- 
 ing his policy as a free lance : — 
 
 " Situated as I am, I can at present do but 
 little. I cannot as yet accuse myself of neg- 
 lecting any opportunity for the dissemination of 
 truth on the great subject of slavery. The 
 clergy in this vicinity are rapidly taking side 
 with us. There is another class which might, I 
 think, be easily moved. I allude to that class 
 of politicians or civilians whose sphere of influ- 
 ence is limited to their town or county. These 
 can take hold of our cause without essentially 
 endangering their popularity, and through them 
 
 1 F. H. Underwood, John Greenleqf Whittier, 137. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 137 
 
 the higher classes of our statesmen may be 
 reached. I have some influence with this class. 
 My exertions as a political writer for the last 
 four years have gained me a large number of 
 political friends. The columns of aU the lead- 
 ing newspapers are open to me. With many of 
 the editors I am on terms of intimate personal 
 acquaintance. All know me as a quondam bro- 
 ther, as a political friend or opponent. Now if 
 I were at leisure to reply to such misrepresenta- 
 tions and charges as occasionally appear in these 
 papers, to distribute pamphlets and papers, to 
 visit personally gentlemen in my vicinity and 
 engage their cooperation, and finally to com- 
 bine the anti-slavery feeling upon some definite 
 and practical object, such, for instance, as the 
 election of members of the state legislature, 
 who will bring forward and sustain resolutions 
 instructing our congressional delegation to urge 
 the abolition of slavery in the District of Colum- 
 bia, — I have no doubt I could do good and effi- 
 cient service. 
 
 " But I have really little leisure for such ex- 
 ertions. In the first place, my brother and my- 
 self are almost constantly engaged in the affairs 
 of our small farm, which does not yield profit 
 enough to enable us to hire labor; and I am 
 obliged to occupy my evenings and other leisure 
 time in writing occasional literary articles for 
 
138 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 the ' New England Magazine,' for which I am 
 paid. Besides this, I have felt myself under the 
 necessity of applying myself to the study of con* 
 stitutional law, political economy, etc. What- 
 ever I have written on the subject of slavery has 
 been by an effort of extra exertion, and under 
 circumstances of haste and constant interruption. 
 
 "Now, if the Executive Committee of the 
 American Anti-Slavery Society could assure me 
 for the term of six months the sum of f 150, I 
 should be able to bend all the energies which God 
 has given me to the great work before us ; and 
 I fully believe that at the end of that time we 
 shall be able to lend both moral and pecuniary 
 strength to the National Society. I have speci- 
 fied that sum as the smallest which could possi- 
 bly meet my expenses, as I should be compelled 
 to travel considerably from home, and owing to 
 the consequent interruption of my labor on the 
 farm, I should be under the necessity of hiring 
 a person to supply my place. 
 
 " I have been induced to make this proposal 
 from a sincere desire of aiding in the advance- 
 ment of a righteous cause. I have recently had 
 an offer, highly favorable in a pecuniary point of 
 view, to take charge of a political newspaper; 
 but should I accept it, my mouth would be closed 
 on the subject nearest my heart." ^ 
 
 1 S. T. Pickard, Whittier as a Politician (Boston, 1900), 47. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 139 
 
 The period of return to mother earth was only 
 just sufficient to gain strength and courage. In 
 1835 he was a member of the Massachusetts 
 legislature, and he was reelected for 1886 ; but 
 his new-found health was still precarious, and 
 he had learned that long days of regular labor 
 were never more to lie in his power. He could 
 accomplish much, but it must be in his own way, 
 at his own hours. And so he turned to less 
 rigid duties, to service of many sorts in behalf 
 of his cause, which we must now describe. 
 
 These services were sometimes of a kind that 
 demanded physical as well as moral courage. 
 While George Thompson was lecturing in New 
 England, Whittier secreted him for a fortnight 
 at his house from mob violence, and afterwards 
 shared with him the perils then attendant upon 
 free speech on the subject of abolition in a 
 New England city. The incident has been 
 vividly described by Whittier's cousin, Mrs. 
 Cartland : — 
 
 ..." Thinking themselves secure because 
 personally unknown, the two friends drove to 
 Plymouth, N. H., to visit Nathaniel P. Rogers, 
 a prominent abolitionist. On their way they 
 stopped for the night in Concord, at the house of 
 George Kent, who was a brother-in-law of Rog- 
 ers. After they had gone on their way, Kent 
 attempted to make preparations for an anti-slav- 
 
140 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 ery meeting to be held when they should return. 
 There was furious excitement, and neither church, 
 chapel, nor hall could be hired for the purpose. 
 On their arrival Whittier walked out with a 
 friend in the twilight, leaving Thompson in the 
 house, and soon found himself and friend sur- 
 rounded by a mob of several hundred persons, 
 who assailed them with stones and bruised them 
 somewhat severely. They took refuge in the 
 house of Colonel Kent, who, though not an 
 abolitionist, protected them and baffled the mob. 
 From thence Whittier made his way with some 
 difficulty to George Kent's, where Thompson 
 was. The mob soon surrounded the house and 
 demanded that Thompson and 'the Quaker' 
 should be given up. Through a clever strata- 
 gem the mob was decoyed away for a while, but 
 soon discovering the trick, it returned, reinforced 
 with muskets and a cannon, and threatened to 
 blow up the house if the abolitionists were not 
 surrendered. 
 
 " A small company of anti-slavery men and 
 women had met that evening at George Kent's, 
 among whom were two nieces of Daniel Webster, 
 daughters of his brother Ezekiel. All agreed 
 that the lives of Whittier and Thompson were 
 in danger, and advised that an effort should be 
 made to escape. The mob filled the street, a 
 short distance below the gate leading to Kent's 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 141 
 
 house. A horse was quietly harnessed in the 
 stable, and was led out with the vehicle under 
 the shadow of the house, where Whittier and 
 Thompson stood ready. It was bright moon- 
 light, and they could see the gun-barrels gleam- 
 ing in the street below them. The gate was 
 suddenly opened, the horse was started at a furi- 
 ous gallop, and the two friends drove off amidst 
 the yells and shots of the infuriated crowd. 
 They left the city by the way of Hookset Bridge, 
 the other avenues being guarded, and hurried in 
 the direction of Haverhill. In the morning they 
 stopped to refresh themselves and their tired 
 horse. While at breakfast they found that ' ill 
 news travels fast,' and gets worse as it goes; 
 for the landlord told them that there had been 
 an abolition meeting at Haverhill the night be- 
 fore, and that George Thompson, the English- 
 man, and a young Quaker named Whittier, who 
 had brought him, were both so roughly handled 
 that they would never wish to talk abolition 
 again. When the guests were about to leave, 
 Whittier, just as he was stepping into the car- 
 riage, said to the landlord, ' My name is Whittier, 
 and this is George Thompson.' The man opened 
 his eyes and mouth with wonder as they drove 
 away." ^ 
 
 But, as a rule, Whittier's life was less full 
 1 F. H. Underwood, Whittier, 116. 
 
142 JOHH GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 of excitement. He acted in his district as an 
 agent of the New England Anti-Slavery Society. 
 In 1836 he was again for some time editor 
 of the Haverhill "Gazette." In 1837 he was 
 successively in Harrisburg, Penn., at an anti- 
 slavery state convention ; in Boston, engaged in 
 lobbying an important measure through the 
 legislature ; and in New York as one of the 
 secretaries of the American Anti-Slavery Soci- 
 ety. In the last city he spent several months, 
 occupying an office in which James G. Birney, 
 Theodore D. Weld, Elizur Wright, and others 
 had desks. Together they edited the " Emanci- 
 pator " and the " Anti-Slavery Reporter," wrote 
 appeals to public men, distributed petitions, 
 wrote tracts, and helped fugitive slaves on the 
 " underground railroad." He boarded iu Brook- 
 lyn, where he had a pleasant circle of friends, 
 and he naturally saw much of his ardent young 
 associates in reform. His eagerness kept pace 
 with theirs, and it is related that on one evening 
 Mr. Weld and he were sb engrossed in discussion 
 that it was nearly daybreak before they parted. 
 In March, 1838, he again changed his quarters, 
 assuming charge of the new " Pennsylvania 
 Freeman," an abolitionist organ published in 
 Philadelphia, in continuation of the "National 
 Enquirer," of which the aged Benjamin Lundy 
 had just resigned the control. Philadelphia was 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 143 
 
 undergoing its period of mob rule. In May, at 
 the close of the dedication exercises of Pennsyl- 
 vania Hall, a handsome building devoted to the 
 purposes of the cause, it was seized, sacked, and- 
 burned by the citizens, with the connivance of 
 the city authorities. Whittier had his office in 
 this building, and, disguised in a wig and a long 
 white overcoat, he mingled with the mob and 
 succeeded in saving some of his effects. Fortu- 
 nately the printing offices were not in the build- 
 ing, and the paper continued to appear as usual. 
 Whittier found old friends and new in Phila- 
 delphia, and as in New York led a more active 
 life than was permitted to him later. He re- 
 mained until October, breaking his editorial 
 duties by short journeys in the service of the 
 cause. Then came a few months at home for 
 recuperation, for his strength was again break- 
 ing, though he still continued as editor. In 
 April, 1839, he returned to Philadelphia ; in 
 June he attended the national political anti- 
 slavery convention in Albany, and in January, 
 1840, visited Washington, where the great debate 
 on the right of petition was then going on. But 
 in February he was forced by alarming iUness to 
 give up his work again, this time virtually for- 
 ever. His heart was seriously affected, and it 
 was only in the quiet surroundings of his native 
 district, and in the calm old life, that he was 
 
144 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 master of what little strength remained to him. 
 And thus ended the second flight into the outer 
 world, the second attempt to meet face to face 
 the great forces of the passionate city centres, 
 closing like the first in physical defeat. 
 
 Meantime the old farm had in 1836 been 
 given up. Whittier's brother was married and 
 gone. Whittier himself was unequal to the 
 management, and the toil and trouble were dis- 
 proportionate to the meagre returns. After 
 nearly two centuries of occupancy, therefore, 
 the land passed into the hands of strangers, and 
 a pleasant little house was bought on Friend 
 Street, in the delightful manufacturing village 
 of Amesbury, which lies a few miles to the east- 
 ward, where near the sea the boisterous Powow 
 dashes into the Merrimae. The sunshiny house, 
 with its pretty garden, stood close by the 
 Friends' meeting-house, which the Whittiers had 
 always attended while they lived on the farm, 
 and the removal was to a community so kindred 
 that it could scarcely have seemed a radical 
 change. 
 
 It was a strange band of workers with whom 
 Whittier had been brought into contact in these 
 years of lobbying and pamphleteering and jour- 
 nalism. In his Hartford sojourn he had seen 
 something of "worldly" life, of much that was 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 145 
 
 opposite in tendency to his quietist training; 
 and the glimpse, though it tended to unsettle 
 his mind, was good for him, as it was good for 
 him to imagine himself in love with a woman of 
 another creed and another social circle. Such 
 associations, disquieting at first, would have 
 eventually added to his natural breadth and 
 toleration of mind, led him to know the world 
 better, given his verse a richness which it never 
 attained. But with his illness, the giving up 
 of his political ambition, and his devotion to 
 what seemed a futile cause, the bounds of his ac- 
 quaintance were again straitened. He knew only 
 reformers, and for twenty years or more after 
 his return to Amesbury there is scarcely to be 
 found among his new friends a single person 
 from the greater outer world, save such as were 
 enlisted in his own reform or in some kindred 
 one. These reformers were in many ways the 
 pick of the nation, men and women with brains 
 capable of conceiving a new order of things, and 
 wills strong enough to try to bend the hard world 
 itself to their purpose. Their energy was tre- 
 mendous, but they lived in the future, neglect- 
 ing the present, sacrificing even the innocent 
 delights of life in their almost hypnotic devotion 
 to a fixed idea. After reading many of their 
 biographies, I may perhaps single out this pas- 
 sage, from the work of a dispassionate observer, 
 
146 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 as most characteristic of the temper and mood 
 of the men and women in Boston, New York, and 
 Philadelphia with whom Whittier was brought 
 into close contact : — 
 
 "Angelina E. Grimke was married, in the 
 spring of 1838, to Theodore D. Weld, one of 
 the forty seceders from Lane Seminary. The' 
 devotion of these ladies to the cause they have 
 espoused is a devotion for life. They give their 
 all to it, — not only their time and labor, not 
 only their slave property, but all their resources. 
 They are now living on the Hudson, about ten 
 miles from New York, thinking the bare support 
 of life enough, since it is sufficient for their 
 object. They have no servant, and they have 
 long given up meat, tea, and coffee. The saving 
 of time is as much an object with them in this 
 as economy of money. Their office is to collect 
 and publish evidence (for which their former 
 experience as slaveholders fits them) relating 
 to the whole system of slavery. They are thus 
 pretty constantly employed in writing. The 
 family sit at their desks tiU within five minutes 
 of the dinner or supper hour. One of the ladies 
 goes down to prepare the table, and rings the 
 bell as the hour strikes, when the rest descend 
 to their cheerful meal, thus easily prepared. It 
 is thought probable that, without such a change 
 in their mode of living, persons who had been 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 147 
 
 brought up in the climate, and amidst the lux- 
 urious indulgences of the Southern states, would 
 have soon sunk under the toils and excitements 
 which these ladies have sustained, — thus far, 
 thank God ! without injury to the health of body 
 or mind." ^ 
 
 Such exalted altruism makes saints and 
 martyrs, and we are grateful for it ; but it also 
 makes a multitude of eccentric, ill-balanced 
 individuals, who are of little real and lasting 
 service to the community ; and if from this band 
 of enthusiasts and from their common cause 
 Whittier drew the fervor and intensity of his 
 verse in this period, we must notice that from 
 the same source came its narrow range, its lack 
 of wide human sympathy, its aesthetic poverty. 
 The reformer was killing the poet. Yet in these 
 years of earnest companionship with disinterested 
 enthusiasts we find traces of friendships with 
 women standing just outside the abolitionist cir- 
 cles — with Miss Elizabeth Lloyd, Jr., the au- 
 thor of " Milton on his Blindness," to whom there 
 attached, in the hearts of the Quaker girls of 
 Philadelphia, "a special glamour because she 
 was understood to be one of the few with whom 
 Whittier was really on terms of warm personal 
 friendship, outside of his firm and faithful com- 
 
 1 Harriet Martineau, " The Martyr Age of the United 
 States," London and Westminster Beview, December, 1838. 
 
148 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 radeship with his anti-slavery friends; "i and 
 with Miss Lucy Hooper, a young author of much 
 sentimental verse, a native of Newburyport, who 
 was living in Brooklyn, and to whom he was 
 thought at one time to be engaged. Such traces 
 of real human feeling show that his old suscepti- 
 bility to feminine charm was not destroyed even 
 by his humanitarian passions. 
 
 During this period of origins, Whittier was 
 in three ways of material assistance to the cause 
 he espoused, — as a politician, as a journalist, 
 and as a poet. 
 
 It is doubtful whether Whittier's health would 
 have stood the strain of a political career, for 
 which he was in many ways admirably fitted. 
 His one year of service in the Massachusetts 
 legislature broke him down, and though he 
 was reelected he could not serve. But while 
 not again holding office, he was of great service 
 in political matters. He knew the leading men 
 in the local and national machines, and was in 
 frequent correspondence with them ; and he used 
 the fact that anti-slavery men held the balance 
 of power in his district to pledge Caleb Gushing 
 to action in their behalf in order to secure elec- 
 tion in 1834 and 1836. 
 
 ^ Eeminiaoenoes of Miss Susan E. Dlckinaon, in Piokard's 
 Life, i. 216. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 149 
 
 " I am disappointed," he wrote to Gushing from 
 Newburyport, in 1834, " in not seeing thee at 
 this place and this time, as I called to apprise 
 thee of the fact that at our meeting of the Essex 
 County Anti-Slavery Society yesterday at Dan- 
 vers, it was unanimously agreed upon to write 
 letters to the candidates for Congress and state 
 legislature on the subject of slavery and of their 
 views of action in Congress and in the legisla- 
 ture upon it. Until after the passage of this re- 
 solution I did not reflect that it would embrace 
 thyself and Osgood [his Democratic opponent], 
 as we were thinking of Saltonstall and Bantoul 
 [in the other Essex district]. As it is, however, 
 I hope thee will favor the Society with an ex- 
 plicit answer, as the one hundred and twenty 
 delegates present pledged themselves to vote for 
 no man of any party who was not in favor of 
 abolition in the District of Columbia. I heard, 
 too, from a gentleman in the meeting that two 
 or three hundred of the legal voters of Lowell 
 have pledged themselves to this effect." ^ 
 
 Cushing, once elected, held to his word, and 
 regularly presented the abolitionist petitions for 
 doing away with slavery in the District of Colum- 
 bia, and upheld Adams in his opposition to 
 gag-rule. In 1838, while Whittier was in Phila- 
 delphia, Cushing tried to avoid pledging himself 
 
 1 Pickard, Life, i. 173. 
 
150 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 again, but Whittier returned in season to take 
 the management of affairs into his own hands. 
 The result is best described by Mr. Pickard : ^ — 
 " Gushing declined to pledge himself to spe- 
 cific measures, saying, ' I cling to my personal 
 independence as the choicest and richest of all 
 possessions. I will take my place in Congress 
 as a freeman or not at all, pledged only to Truth, 
 Liberty, and the Constitution, with no terror be- 
 fore my eyes but the terror to do wrong. Thus, 
 or not at all, will I reascend the giant stairs of 
 the Capitol.' Whittier was determined to get 
 a more explicit pledge or prevent his election. 
 At his suggestion, his friend Henry B. Stanton 
 read Cushing's letter and commented upon it in 
 a humorous and caustic way, and the conven- 
 tion adjourned without any action in his favor. 
 Gushing, who was anxious to secure the Lib- 
 erty vote, was in a corner of the gallery while 
 his communication was being criticised. In the 
 evening he met Whittier at the hotel, and ex- 
 pressed his chagrin at the reception given his 
 careful letter. He said, 'What shall I do?' 
 Whittier replied, ' Thee cannot expect the votes 
 of our people, unless thee speaks more plainly.' 
 'But how can I do that now?' said Gushing. 
 Whittier suggested, ' Write a short letter to me, 
 and do not hide thy meaning under many words.' 
 
 1 Life, i. ISl. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 151 
 
 Gushing did not feel like doing it, but said at 
 length, ' Let me see you in the morning.' Whit- 
 tier was to leave for home by stage quite early, 
 and promised to call for Gushing. He found 
 the anxious statesman half dressed and waiting 
 for him. He had decided to sign any letter that 
 Whittier would write. Whittier thereupon wrote 
 the short letter that foUows, which Gushing 
 copied and signed, and it was sent to all parts 
 of the Essex district by special messengers : — 
 
 Salem, November 8, 1838. 
 
 Mt dear Sir, — I should regret to have any 
 doubt remain on your mind as to the import of 
 those points of my letter which are referred to 
 by you. In respect to the District of Golumbia, 
 I am in favor of the abolition of slavery and the 
 slave trade therein, by the earliest practicable 
 legislation of Gongress, regard being had for the 
 just rights of all classes of the citizens, and I 
 intended to be so understood. 
 
 In the concluding part of the letter, I stated 
 that I felt bound to withhold stipulation in detail, 
 as to my future course in Gongress. But I did 
 not design it to be understood that I entertained 
 any desire or disposition to change my course in 
 regard to the subjects embraced in the letter ; 
 but, on the contrary, being resolved to continue 
 to maintain on all suitable occasions, as I have 
 
152 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 heretofore done, the principles and spirit of the 
 resolves of the legislature of Massachusetts, ap- 
 pertaining to the right of petition, and to slavery 
 and the slave trade, in their various relations. 
 I am, very faithfully, yours, 
 
 Caleb Gushing. 
 
 To John G. Whittieb, Esq. 
 
 In 1840 Gushing avoided the pledge and 
 managed to secure election. But in 1841, when 
 the Whigs came into power, and he was anxious 
 to become Secretary of the Treasury, Whittier 
 took pains to republish the letter of 1838, which 
 identified him to some extent with the abolition- 
 ists, and it is believed that this was instrumental 
 in procuring his defeat in the Senate, where the 
 nomination was three times rejected. Whittier's 
 object was not the gratification of spite, but a 
 conviction that Gushing was a dangerous man to 
 hold office. 
 
 In many other ways Whittier thus helped to 
 forward the propaganda. Shrewd and intelli- 
 gent, an excellent judge of affairs, and a master 
 of the ins and outs of political intrigue, he was 
 for years almost the only one of the abolitionists 
 bent on gaining an inch here and an inch there 
 in a strictly practical fashion. Moral action 
 apart from political action he thought an absurd- 
 ity. With a genius for coalition and the art of 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 153 
 
 playing on the hopes and fears of politicians, he 
 was a familiar figure in the lobby of the Massa- 
 chusetts legislature, and in 1837 took an active 
 part in the campaign which induced that body, 
 anything but abolitionist at heart, to move di- 
 rectly in the interests of abolitionists by cen- 
 suring Van Buren's lordly message calling for a 
 cessation of anti-slavery discussion. In no form 
 of action, however, did he show himself more 
 astute than in the clever and earnest letters he 
 wrote to political leaders, explaining to them 
 why it would be to their advantage, and not out 
 of accord with the fundamental principles of 
 their party, to further the abolitionist movement 
 in one way or another. 
 
 It was in this politic fashion that he addressed 
 Henry Clay, who had been the idol of his youth- 
 ful ambitions : ^ — 
 
 New Yoke, 5th, 6th month, 1837, 
 143 Nassau Street. 
 
 Hon. H. Clat, — I make no apology for ad- 
 dressing thee on the subject of human rights. 
 A Republican, — a steady and consistent friend 
 of human liberty, thou canst not be indifferent 
 to the condition of more than two millions of our 
 fellow countrymen, deprived of all the rights, 
 
 1 Copy in the possession of the Misses Johnson and Mrs. 
 Woodman. 
 
154 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 and shut out from all the glorious privileges and 
 immunities of American citizens. Thou hast 
 indeed spoken freely on this subject — and in a 
 manner worthy of the advocate of universal lib- 
 erty. According to thy own emphatic declara- 
 tion, " Slavery is all wrong." 
 
 Thou hast, I doubt not, heard and read much 
 against the abolitionists of the North and West. 
 I trust, however, that thy discriminating mind 
 has been able to perceive that much that has 
 been urged against us is and must be false in 
 the nature of things. But I would ask thee to 
 weigh the testimony of such men as Wm. E. 
 Channing and Daniel Webster in regard to the 
 character of the abolitionists. We are not the 
 enemies of the slaveholder : and how would our 
 hearts go out to that man who, himself a slave- 
 holder, should throw off the shackles of a corrupt 
 public opinion, shake from him the prejudices 
 of education, despise the suggestions of avarice, 
 crucify the lust of power, and stand forth the 
 fearless and eloquent advocate of the rights of 
 the colored American! How many prayers 
 from the closet and around the fireside of the 
 free farmers of New England would arise for his 
 welfare ! 
 
 The subject is fast becoming the all-engrossing 
 one. Already our societies have increased to 
 1100, — having more than doubled during the 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 155 
 
 past year. Almost every mail brings us accounts 
 of the formation of new societies. In Massa- 
 chusetts, the great mass is becoming abolition- 
 ized, and men of both political parties, aAd of 
 all religious creeds, unite as upon common 
 ground. In this state the undercurrent of aboli- 
 tionism is acquiring tremendous strength. This 
 question, too, is taken hold of upon religious 
 groimds. It is the conscience — the soul — the 
 deep religious principle of the North that is 
 speaking out on this subject. Prayerful men 
 and women consider the utterance of their testi- 
 mony against Slavery as a solemn and imperative 
 duty. And will a cause, thus baptized in prayer, 
 and associated with the holiest emotions of the 
 soul, and the best feelings of humanity, fail of 
 its great object ? Believe it not. I will do thee 
 the justice to believe that thou wouldst not wish 
 it to fail. 
 
 There is one subject upon which I feel a deep 
 interest. It is the subject of Texas, and its 
 annexation to the United States. God grant 
 that my fears may not be realized, but I con- 
 fess that I have little hope of anything else than 
 such an annexation. I trust that thy voice will 
 be raised against it. 
 
 The Society of Friends as a body feel deeply 
 on this subject. They would be glad to entrust 
 some petitions or remonstrances against the 
 
156 JOHN OREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 annexation of Texas to thy care could they be 
 assured that thou wouldst sustain the petitions. 
 I should be pleased to have a line from thee on 
 the subject as early as may suit thy convenience. 
 With respect and esteem, 
 Thy friend, 
 
 John G. Whittieb. 
 
 Clay replied with equal skill : ^ — 
 
 {Private) 
 
 Ashland, 22d July, 1837. 
 
 Deak Sie, — I duly received your favor of 
 the 5th inst. and hope you wiU excuse me for 
 writing very briefly on the several subjects of 
 which it treats. I certainly do, as you suppose, 
 feel great concern in regard to the condition of 
 the African portion of our population. I have 
 so often expressed my sentiments, in respect to 
 slavery, that it is not necessary now to repeat 
 them. Without looking to the religious aspect 
 of the question, all my reflections have satisfied 
 me that it is unjust, and injurious both to the 
 master and slave. 
 
 But whilst I say this, candor obliges me to 
 express my deep regret that the abolitionists 
 of the North have deemed it their duty to agi- 
 tate the question of immediate emancipation. I 
 
 ^ Manuscript in the possession of the Misses Johnson and 
 Mrs. Woodman. 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 157 
 
 will not impute to them bad motives, nor stop 
 to entertain and discuss the question. But I 
 must say that I think that their proceedings are 
 highly injurious to the slave himself, to the 
 master, and to the harmony of the Union. I 
 believe that, instead of accelerating, they will 
 retard abolition, and, in the mean time, will 
 check the measures of benevolence and amelio- 
 ration. This, no doubt, was not intended, but it 
 is nevertheless absolutely certain. 
 
 I am not aware that the annexation of Texas 
 to the U. S. will ever become a question for 
 general consideration. I learn that the desire 
 of becoming a part of the U. S. is weakening 
 in Texas. Should the question arise, it will be 
 necessary to weigh, with great deliberation, all 
 the probable consequences both of admission and 
 exclusion. Slavery is only one of many consid- 
 erations that will come up. I do not think that 
 the question should be decided exclusively by 
 that. Should there be a decided opposition by 
 a large portion of the U. S. to the admission 
 of Texas into our national family, that fact 
 ought to have great, if not conclusive, influence 
 in the determination of the question. 
 
 I think those gentlemen of the South have 
 been unwise who have expressed a wish for the 
 incorporation of Texas in order to strengthen 
 the slave interest; and I should think it also 
 
158 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 unwise in gentlemen of the North to avow the 
 opposite ground as motive for action. 
 
 As for myself, I shall reserve my judgment 
 for all the lights of which I can avail myself 
 when the proposition of annexation shaU. be 
 made, if it ever be made. It may become a 
 matter of serious enquiry whether the spread of 
 slavery and the introduction of slaves from for- 
 eign countries may not be more successfully 
 prevented by taking Texas in the Union than 
 by keeping her out of it. 
 
 I am with high respect, 
 
 Your obt. servt. 
 
 H. Clay. 
 
 As a further illustration of Whittier's political 
 correspondence, I am able to present, through 
 the kindness of Mr. Charles Francis Adams, the 
 following letters to John Quincy Adams, whom 
 he revered as the ideal exponent of moral reform 
 through political means : — 
 
 Philadelphia, 23rd 1st mo., 1837. 
 
 Hon. J. Q. Adams, — A citizen of Massachu- 
 setts, I feel free to address thee a line in refer- 
 ence to the great question of Slavery as now 
 agitated in this country. . In common with thou- 
 sands of the sons of the " good Bay State," I have 
 felt under peculiar obligations to thyself as the 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 159 
 
 unflinching and uncompromising defender of our 
 right of petition, and as the inflexible opponent 
 of the baneful system of Slavery. In the name 
 of thousands of thy fellow citizens I thank thee. 
 I rejoice to know that whoever else may prove 
 faithless to the Pilgrim Spirit of New England 
 Freedom in the HaUs of Congress, the son of 
 John Adams will never be found " basely bowing 
 the knee to the dark Spirit of Slavery." 
 
 My immediate object in writing this note is 
 to suggest, with due deference, whether it might 
 not subserve the Cause of Right and Freedom 
 for the representatives of Massachusetts to enter 
 their solemn and united protest against the vir- 
 tual annihilation of the right of petition involved 
 in the infamous resolution which has passed the 
 House in reference to the petitions and remon- 
 strances of the people upon the subject of Slav- 
 ery. It seems to me that such a course is due 
 to yourselves as well as to your constituents. 
 Rely upon it you will in so doing meet response 
 of approbation from any true son of Massachu- 
 setts. The common sense — the heart — the in- 
 tellect of the State will be with you. The Legis- 
 lature of Massachusetts will sustain you, the 
 people will answer " well done " ! 
 
 I have no doubt that all or mostly all of the 
 representatives of the State would be ready to 
 sign such a protest. 
 
160 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 The occasion seems to me to demand it. 
 Excuse these suggestions from a stranger and 
 believe me cordially and most sincerely 
 Thy friend 
 
 John G. Whittier. 
 P. S. I shall be in Philadelphia for a week or 
 ten days. A letter addressed to me care Benja- 
 min S. Jones, Arch St., would reach me. 
 
 J. G. W. 
 
 Ameseuky, Essex Co., 12th 4th mo., 1837. 
 
 Hon. John Q. Adams : 
 
 Dear Friend, — I am requested to inform 
 thee that at a meeting of the Board of Managers 
 of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society held 
 in Boston on the 10th inst., Francis Jackson, 
 Esq., in the chair, it was unanimously voted to 
 invite thee to be present at the New England 
 Anti-Slavery Convention to be held in Boston 
 on the last Tuesday of May next. 
 
 We do not offer the invitation with the wish of 
 inducing thee to take any step inconsistent with 
 thy previously avowed sentiments. We invite 
 thee to be a spectator of the proceedings of the 
 friends of Liberty assembled from all parts of 
 New England to consider subjects of the most 
 vital importance to the whole country. 
 
 The topics which will be discussed are : 1, 
 Texas ; 2, District of Columbia ; 3, Slave trade 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 161 
 
 between the States ; 4, Eigtt of persons claimed 
 as fugitive slaves to a jury trial ; 5, duty of the 
 Free States. If on any of these subjects (espe- 
 cially Texas) we could be favored with thy views, 
 it would be a source of high gratification to the 
 members of the Convention, and no doubt pro- 
 ductive of great good to the cause of Liberty 
 and Humanity. A line for the expression of thy 
 determination in regard to this invitation would 
 be received with pleasure. 
 
 Truly thy friend, 
 
 John G. Whittiee. 
 
 Hon. John Q. Adams. 
 
 New York, 3rd 1st mo., 1838. 
 
 Dear Feiend, — Allow me to assure thee in 
 behalf of myself, and the friends of freedom 
 in this city, of our grateful sense of thy services 
 in support of the rights of the citizens and the 
 Constitution of the United States. 
 
 The people are rousing themselves at this new 
 aggression of the 21st ultimo. East, West, and 
 North the land is shaking with indignant agita- 
 tion ; and before one month a flood of remon- 
 strances wiU be rolled upon a recreant Congress. 
 From Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Jer- 
 sey and Pennsylvania, we hear of a simultaneous 
 movement to petition for the rescinding of this 
 resolution. By the bye, would it not be well for 
 
162 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 the Massachusetts delpgation to draw up a state- 
 ment of the manner in which their freedom of 
 speech and the rights of their constituents have 
 been denied on the floor of Congress, and publish 
 it in the " Intelligencer " and some of the Boston 
 papers ? Would not all of our delegation sign 
 such a paper? It seems to me that something 
 of the kind is demanded. 
 
 Our Massachusetts Legislature will unques- 
 tionably speak out at this crisis, and once more 
 protest against these repeated violations of the 
 Constitution. 
 
 I need not say to thee, Go on. The thousands 
 who now look to thee as the champion of their 
 freedom of opinion, of speech and petition, will 
 not be disappointed. 
 
 May the God of the oppressed strengthen and 
 preserve thee. 
 
 Truly thy friend, 
 
 John G. Whittier 
 
 Whittier was of great service, too, in duties of 
 membership and administration connected with 
 his organization. One of the original members 
 of the American Anti-Slavery Society, he was 
 constant in his attendance, as far as his health 
 permitted, at its annual meetings and those of 
 the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society, and he 
 was for a while one of the vice-presidents of the 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 163 
 
 latter, and at various times one of the agents, 
 the managers, and the secretaries of the former. 
 In his relations with the societies he is on record 
 in their reports as proposing resolutions which 
 looked toward political action, and he was a 
 leading spirit in the movement that justly rent 
 asunder the organized abolitionist bodies on the 
 question of the establishment of a definite abo- 
 litionist party. 
 
 As an experienced journalist and pamphleteer 
 Whittier was even more effective. On July 23, 
 1836, he became again the editor of the Haver- 
 hill " Gazette," and when it was obvious that his 
 political attitude was not in great favor with the 
 subscribers, he associated with himself, on Sep- 
 tember 17, Dr. Jeremiah Spofford of George- 
 town, who was to have under his superintendence 
 " the political character and bearing of the par 
 per," while Whittier, as the junior editor, was 
 to retain " the literary and miscellaneous depart- 
 ment." To the modern reader, however, it is 
 plain that this sharing of the responsibilities did 
 not alter the abolitionist bias of the journal, and 
 we are not surprised in finding Whittier retiring 
 whoUy from the management on December 17. 
 In the same year he administered through the 
 columns of the " Liberator " a telling rebuke 
 to pompous Governor Everett, who had in his 
 inaugural address endeavored to smooth his own 
 
164 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTJEB 
 
 path by choking off discussions on slavery.^ In 
 1837 he edited John Quincy Adams's remark- 
 able letters to his constituents with regard to 
 the right of petition to Congress, and some 
 selections from Harriet Martineau's writings 
 about America, under the title " Views of Slavery 
 and Emancipation," with an introduction show- 
 ing that her anti-slavery sentiments were not the 
 result of prejudice : while endeavoring to repre- 
 sent our democratic civilization in its best light, 
 
 1 W. S. Kennedy (Whittier, American Reformers Series, 
 100) seems to have been the first to point out that Wendell 
 Phillips, in the famous sentence in his Faneuil Hall speech, 
 *' I thoug^ht those pictured lips would have broken into voice, 
 to rebuke the recreant American," was perhaps unconsciously 
 using Whittier's figure of two years previous : — 
 
 "George Washington was another signer of the Constitu- 
 tion. I know that he was a slaveholder ; and I have not for- 
 gotten the emotions which swelled my bosom, when in the 
 metropolis of New England, the Cradle of Liberty, a degener- 
 ate son of the Pilgrims [Peleg Sprague] pointed to his portrait, 
 which adorns the wall, with the thrice repeated exclamation, 
 — ' That Slaveholder ! ' I saw the only blot on the otherwise 
 bright and spotless character of the Father of his Country held 
 to open view — exposed by remorseless hands to sanction a 
 system of oppression and blood. It seemed to me like sacri- 
 lege. I looked upon those venerable and awful features, while 
 the echoes, once wakened in that old Hall by the voice of an- 
 cient Liberty, warm from the lips of Adams and Hancock and 
 the fiery heart of James Otis, gave back from wall and gallery 
 the exulting cry of ' Slaveholder,' half expecting to see the still 
 canvas darken with a frown, and the pictured lips part asun- 
 der with the words of rebuke and sorrow.'' 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 165 
 
 "a strict regard to truth and justice required 
 her to speak of the hideous anomaly in our 
 midst." In 1838, while in New York as a sec- 
 retary of the American Anti-Slavery Society, he 
 drew up, on the basis of a fugitive slave's Story, 
 " The Narrative of James Williams," a star- 
 tling account of slaveholders' cruelties, which 
 the society was compelled later to withdraw from 
 circulation on account of the relative untrust- 
 worthiness of the witness. After the failure of 
 a plan to establish an anti-slavery journal in 
 Portland, Me., he took control, on March 15, 
 1838, of the "Pennsylvania Freeman," the offi- 
 cial organ of the Pennsylvania Anti-Slavery 
 Society. 
 
 His editorial work on the " Freeman " was less 
 amateurish than in earlier years. There was a 
 bit of cant about it, a little of the conventional- 
 ity of humanitarianism ; but it was resolute, 
 straightforward writing, tolerant to his oppo- 
 nents both outside and inside the organization, 
 and alive to opportunities for a telling stroke. 
 He had less than usual to say about literature, 
 but in commenting on a remark said to have 
 been made by Pickens on the floor of Congress 
 to the effect that the literature of the world is 
 against the South, he quotes with effect Camp- 
 bell's recent lines " To the United States of 
 America on their striped and starred banner : " — 
 
166 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 " The white man's liberty in types 
 Stands blazou'd by your stars — 
 But what 's the meaning of the stripes ? 
 They mean your Negroes^ scars ! " 
 
 And it is interesting to find him for once turning 
 aside from his more important task to call at- 
 tention to Longfellpw's anonymous "Psalm of 
 Life," which had just appeared in the " Knicker- 
 bocker : " — 
 
 " It is very seldom that we find an article of 
 poetry so full of excellent philosophy and com- 
 mon sense as the following. We know not who 
 the author may be, but he or she is no common 
 man or woman. These nine simple verses are 
 worth more than all the dreams of Shelley, and 
 Keats, and Wordsworth. They flT« alive and 
 vigorous with the spirit of the day in which we 
 live — the moral steam enginery of an age of 
 action." 
 
 Whittier's political poems appeared in the 
 Haverhill " Gazette," the " Liberator," the Bos- 
 ton "Courier," the "Pennsylvania Freeman," 
 in collections of anti-slavery verse like "The 
 North Star," " The Liberty Bell," and " Songs 
 of the Free," and, indeed, wherever convenience 
 and the occasion dictated. The place of publi- 
 cation mattered little, for they were copied far 
 and wide, quoted by abolitionist orators, read 
 aloud in abolitionist families, and declaimed by 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 167 
 
 abolitionist schoolboys, thus acquiring an impor- 
 tance wholly out of proportion to their number 
 or their artistic merit. As Garrison said in the 
 "Liberator," with reference to the "Stanzas" 
 beginning " Our fellow-countrymen in chains," 
 " Our gifted brother Whittier has again seized 
 the great trumpet of Liberty, and blown a blast 
 that shall ring from Maine to the Rocky Moun- 
 tains." 
 
 In 1837, while Whittier was in New York, 
 the publisher of the " Liberator," Isaac Knapp, 
 collected and published these verses, under the 
 title of " Poems Written during the Progress of 
 the Abolition Question in the United States," 
 without, it would appear, notifying Whittier of 
 his intention. A little later he himself chose for 
 Joseph Healy, the financial agent of the Penn- 
 sylvania Anti-Slavery Society, the material for 
 his " Poems," which appeared in 1838. Both 
 volumes were tracts for the abolitionist propa- 
 ganda. The first was illustrated by the familiar 
 woodcuts that bore the legends " Am I not a 
 man and a brother?" and "Am I not a woman 
 and a sister ? " The second bore the motto from 
 Coleridge, " ' There is a time to keep silence,' 
 saith Solomon ; but when I proceeded to the first 
 verse of the fourth chapter of the Ecclesiastes, 
 ' and considered all the oppressions that are 
 done under the sun, and beheld the tears of such 
 
168 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 as were oppressed, and they had no comforter ; 
 and on the side of the oppressors there was 
 power ; ' I concluded this was not the time to 
 keep silence ; for Truth should be spoken at all 
 times, but more especially at those times when 
 to speak Truth is dangerous." With the excep- 
 tion of the "Vaudois Teacher" and "Bind up 
 thy tresses, thou beautiful one," towards the end 
 of the book, the 1837 volume contained nothing 
 but anti-slavery matter, and the 1838 edition 
 printed the anti-slavery poems first, adding some 
 of his religious and reform pieces, and a very 
 few historical verses. 
 
 These early political verses, most of which are 
 retained in the later editions, were only of tran- 
 sient importance. It is with difficulty that we 
 can now understand the circumstances that occa- 
 sioned them ; we must know contemporary his- 
 tory to appreciate their allusions. But it is not 
 difficult to realize that they were at that time 
 effective. They are not blundering verses. The 
 lines run smoothly, the rhythms ring. They 
 expostulate, they plead, they satirize ; and in 
 every case they reach their mark. Only a deeply 
 reflective mind could thus search out the real 
 issues ; only the trained hand could thus regularly 
 hit the target. Two or three, such as " The 
 Yankee Girl" and "The Slave-Ships," are in 
 narrative form, but the mass of his work was 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 169 
 
 purely expository, — editorials in verse. He 
 laments his dead brothers-at-arms, he writes 
 hymns for anniversaries, he comments on current 
 events, taking every good opportunity for strik- 
 ing a strong blow for the cause, by amplifying a 
 fine passage in an anti-slavery speech or seizing 
 hold of some rash act or utterance on the other 
 side. In " The Hunters of Men," he reveals, as 
 in a cartoon, the whole force of the pious and 
 respected Colonization Society riding at the heels 
 of the free blacks like hunters after a fox. 
 
 " Gay luck to our hunters ! how nobly they ride 
 In the glow of their zeal, and the strength of their pride ! 
 The priest with his cassock flung back on the wind, 
 Just screening the politic statesman behind ; 
 The saint and the sinner, with cursing and prayer, 
 The drunk and the sober, ride merrily there. 
 And woman, kind woman, wife, widow, and maid. 
 For- the good of the hunted, is lending her aid : 
 Her foot 'a in the stirrup, her hand on the rein. 
 How blithely she rides to the hunting of men ! " 
 
 In " Expostulation " he drives home the unan- 
 swerable inconsistency of political equality and 
 domestic slavery : — 
 
 " Shall every flap of England's flag 
 
 Proclaim that all around are free. 
 From farthest Ind to each blue crag 
 
 That beetles o'er the Western Sea ? 
 And shall we scoff at Europe's kings. 
 
 When Freedom's fire is dim with us. 
 And round our country's altar clings 
 
 The damning shade of Slavery's curse ? " 
 
170 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 And in " The New Year " he lashes the subserv- 
 iency of Northern politicians : — 
 
 " Yet, shame upon them ! there they sit, 
 Men of the North, subdued and still ; 
 Meek, pliant poltroons, only fit 
 To work a master's will. 
 
 " Sold, — bargained offi for Southern votes, — 
 A passive herd of Northern mules. 
 Just braying through their purchased throats 
 Whate'er their owner rules." 
 
 Meanwhile he points prophetically and unerr- 
 ingly to the growing demand of the people of 
 the North and West for immediate emancipa- 
 tion : — 
 
 " East, West, and North, the shout is heard, 
 Of freemen rising for the right : 
 Each valley hath its rallying word, — 
 Each hUl its signal light. 
 
 " O'er Massachusetts' rooks of gray, 
 
 The strengthening light of freedom shines, 
 Rhode Island's Narragansett Bay, 
 And Vermont's snow-hung pines ! 
 
 " From Hudson's frowning palisades 
 To Alleghany's laurelled crest. 
 O'er lakes and prairies, streams and glades, 
 It shines upon the West." 
 
 It was thus plain that Whittier's humanitarian 
 aspirations overshadowed all his other interests 
 in verse. He wrote little during the period 
 under consideration which did not directly con- 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 111 
 
 cern reform. One long poem, indeed, "Mogg 
 Megone," which he began in 1830, was published 
 in book form in 1836, and marks the culmina- 
 tion of his youthful enthusiasm in New England 
 legend, and of his effort to retell the old tales of 
 the early settlers in the fashion of Scott. Whit- 
 tier himself grew to dislike " Mogg Megone," 
 and finally banished it from the body of his 
 collected poems, reprinting it in an appendix, 
 with the derogatory comment that it then sug- 
 gested to him " a big Indian in his war-paint, 
 strutting about in Sir Walter Scott's plaid." But 
 the poem, in spite of its obvious defects, does 
 not deserve the obloquy it has received. I think 
 I may perhaps speak for many country boys in 
 Whittier's own district forty years later when I 
 say that nothing that had been written of Colonial 
 times seemed to us so vivid, not even Cooper's 
 novels. For it dealt with the New England 
 epos, rather than with that of the Middle or 
 Western States ; it had something of the effect 
 of Parkman in the emphasis it threw on the war- 
 fare of France and England, Catholicism and 
 Protestantism ; and the figures of the base fron- 
 tiersman, the great Sachem, the daring girl who 
 struck so boldly for revenge when she saw her 
 lover's scalp, the Jesuit plotting for the supre- 
 macy of France in America, whose great plans 
 she thus ruined — slight as they are, are figures 
 
172 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 deeply typical of the great forces then at strife. 
 Whittier failed when Scott succeeded, we must 
 admit, though it is hard to see why. A feud of 
 an overbearing Scottish prince with the maraud- 
 ing Trossack clans may well seem less noble to 
 our minds than the romance of our own pioneers, 
 on whose success hung the welfare of our nation ; 
 the little Scottish lakes are no more beautiful 
 than our own. But Scott made his forays im- 
 mortal, and ours are not yet fitly chronicled. 
 Perhaps when the past takes its just place in 
 perspective, we may have novels and roman- 
 tic poems that make the life of the pioneers 
 shine out again, and perhaps, when the proper 
 medium has been found, we shall see that Whit- 
 tier was in his youth unwittingly near the heart 
 of the secret. Certainly we may now acknow- 
 ledge that in the poem he came to despise he 
 had stumbled for a moment on the tune of the 
 rapid and musical narrative and descriptive verse 
 which in later years he handled so skilfully : — 
 
 " Ah, Mogg Megone ! — what dreams are tWne, 
 But those which love's own fancies dress, — 
 The sum of Indian happiness ! — 
 A wigwam, where the warm sunshine 
 Looks in among the groves of pine, — 
 A stream, where, round thy light canoe, 
 The trout and salmon dart in view. 
 And the fair girl, before thee now, 
 Spreading thy mat with hand of snow, 
 Or plying, in the dews of morn, 
 
THE YOUNG ABOLITIONIST 173 
 
 Her hoe amidst thy patch of corn, 
 Or offering up, at eve, to thee 
 Thy birchen dish of hominy ! " 
 
 With so slight a poetical product closed the 
 critical period in Whittier's life. After a bitter 
 struggle he had submitted his career to the 
 chsteices of an extravagant and ill-informed 
 humanitarian movement, and that unselfish act 
 made him for the best years of his life a man of 
 action rather than a man of letters — a reformer, 
 a missionary, a politician, rather than a poet. 
 At thirty-five, he found himself, like Dante, in 
 an obscure wood, searching for the true road, 
 tempted and threatened by the great forces of 
 his time. Milton, Burke, the servants of great 
 causes, his own Quaker forerunners, the saints 
 and martyrs and crusaders of old — these and 
 not Virgil were the guides that showed him the 
 path of duty. Once found, he followed it with- 
 out turning back, and it was not until he was 
 becoming an old man that the roads joined again 
 and he could devote himself entirely to letters. 
 Meantime the dross in his nature was to be puri- 
 fied by poverty, by abstinence, by isolation, by 
 devotion. 
 
CHAPTEK V 
 
 BEFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 
 
 1840-1860 
 
 During the twenty long and painful years 
 which passed between the first stirrings of the 
 third party and the full organization of the 
 Black Republicans, the twenty years which 
 the nation needed to swing slowly into line with 
 the principles of the little band of political aboli- 
 tionists, Whittier was almost continually a pris- 
 oner at Amesbury, fast bound by ill health and 
 poverty. In the summer of 1840 he made sundry 
 visits and attended the yearly meeting of the 
 Society of Friends at Newport. In the autumn 
 he twice tried to start on a little journey to 
 Halifax, but was not sufficiently strong. In 
 1841 he for a few weeks accompanied the Eng- 
 lish philanthropist, Joseph Sturge, a wealthy 
 feUow Quaker and abolitionist, as his guide on 
 part of a tour through the important cities of 
 the East, in the interests of the cause, but was 
 more than once obliged through increasing in- 
 disposition to return for recuperation. In 1844- 
 45 he lived for about six months in Lowell, 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 175 
 
 while editing the "Middlesex Standard." In 
 1845 he thought again of going to the West, but 
 found it impossible to carry out his plan. In 
 1845 and 1848 he visited Washington in behalf 
 of the abolitionists. But these somewhat stern 
 diversions, with his little trips in the immediate 
 vicinity and to Boston, were almost the only 
 breaks in continuous residence. His health was 
 always uncertain, and not unfrequently he was 
 severely ill. In 1847 he wrote : " I have of late 
 been able to write but little, and that mostly for 
 the papers, and I have scarcely answered a letter 
 for a month past. I dread to touch a pen. When- 
 ever I do, it increases the dull wearing pain in 
 my head, which I am scarcely ever free from." ^ 
 And again in 1851 : " I am slowly recovering 
 from the severest illness I have known for years, 
 the issue of which, at one time, was to me ex- 
 ceedingly doubtful. Indeed, T scarcely know 
 now how to report myself, but I am better, and 
 full of gratitude to God that I am permitted 
 once more to go abroad and enjoy this beautiful 
 springtime. The weather now is delightfully 
 warm and bright, and the soft green of the 
 meadows is climbing our hills. It is luxury to 
 live. One feels at such times terribly rooted to 
 this world : old Mother Earth seems sufficient 
 for us." 2 
 
 1 Piokard, Life, i. 319. ^ jjjv;. ;. 355. 
 
176 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 To this chronic weakness of health, which 
 modern medicine with its greater insistence on 
 hygiene could probably have greatly obviated, 
 was added the burden of straitened means. The 
 farm had been sold and the pleasant little house 
 at Amesbury had been bought. There was 
 therefore a habitation for his mother, his sister, 
 and himself, but whence could come the funds 
 for their simple living ? Cut off from regular 
 editorial work, from acting as a paid secretary 
 of an anti-slavery society, and from the possible 
 resource of lecturing, he was dependent entirely 
 upon his pen. But occasional poems and tales 
 and essays brought little under any circum- 
 stances ; the magazines shunned, as a rule, the 
 contributions of an abolitionist ; his royalties 
 were small ; his heart, too, was almost wholly 
 wrapped up in devotion to an apparently lost 
 cause, and was in no mood for pure letters. 
 Nevertheless he struggled on as best he could, 
 sustained by the double frugality of a Quaker 
 and a New Englander. In 1847 he accepted 
 with pleasure a post as corresponding editor 
 of Dr. Bailey's " National Era," published in 
 Washington as the mouthpiece of the " new 
 organization " or political abolitionists, properly 
 called the American and Foreign Anti-Slavery 
 Society, and the slender but regular salary was 
 his mainstay throughout the remainder of this 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 177 
 
 period. Even with this assistance his financial 
 situation was a critical one, and about 1857 he 
 escaped disaster only through the kind offices 
 of a philanthropic abolitionist. 
 
 To the limitations of illness and poverty were 
 added those of loneliness and disappointed am- 
 bition. With a mind that adapted itself with 
 astonishing flexibility to new conditions, and 
 was thus just at the beginning of its growth, he 
 was confined to the routine of a country village. 
 Fond of women and desirous of marriage, he 
 was withheld not only by ill health and straitened 
 means, but by respect for his mother's feelings, 
 for a devout Quakeress could not have lived 
 under the same roof with a daughter-in-law that 
 did not share her creed. It was - the wreck of 
 all his purposes. He could no longer dream 
 of success in journalism or in politics : he was 
 pledged to an unpopular cause. Worse yet, he 
 was pledged to the side of that cause where 
 duty was less clear. Garrison's path was plain. 
 His voice was the first to be raised for immedi- 
 ate, unconditional emancipation, to be secured 
 through the moral regeneration of the American 
 people. He was the founder of a religion whose 
 creed was freedom to the slave. How the prob- 
 lem could be worked out practically was no con- 
 cern of his, nor could his attention be diverted 
 from his essential tenet. Was the Bible against 
 
178 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 it, then the Bible was wrong; did the church 
 oppose, then the church must be reformed ; did 
 the Constitution forbid, then the Constitution 
 must be destroyed ; was union impossible under 
 such conditions, then death to the Union. Never 
 was extremist more logically severe. He was a 
 man of one great moral idea, which, eventually 
 shared by millions, brought about tremendous 
 changes by awful means. Whittier, on the other 
 hand, was more concerned with practical results. 
 His first anti-slavery writing had dealt with the 
 expediency of" justice, and he continually served 
 his cause by indicating the manner in which 
 public opinion could be influenced and the slow 
 legislative steps that must be taken to bring 
 about the great event. But to attempt to lead 
 a nation step by step toward such a tremendous 
 reform was to enter on an unknown path in an 
 unexplored wilderness. Mistake had to follow 
 mistake ; success was always doubtful until ex- 
 perience brought accurate knowledge. The way 
 was one of compromise : as a practical reformer 
 he had often to pass by the house of his friends 
 and lodge with his enemies, and the goal seemed 
 even more distant when approached by such 
 circuitous means. 
 
 Indeed, we may wonder, though we find no 
 indication of such a thing, whether in so practi- 
 cal a mind as Whittier's there could arise no 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 179 
 
 doubts as to the truth of his main generalization, 
 no tormenting suspicion that the sudden emanci- 
 pation of a nation of slaves might loose economic 
 forces impossible to control, endanger the pros- 
 perity of the free, and plunge the negro into an 
 unsuspected gulf of pauperism and the new but 
 scarcely less potent slavery that a commercial 
 society imposes upon the weak. Of the real 
 negro, his capacities and limitations, he had, like 
 his fellows, only a dim idea, based largely on 
 theoretic speculation, and he would have had 
 less confidence could he at any time have foreseen 
 the blackness of war and reconstruction and the 
 perplexity that even now envelops us. 
 
 To dissipate the clouds of melancholy bred by 
 Whittier's disadvantages in strength and sub- 
 stance and companionship, his wrecked ambitions, 
 and his exposed position on the skirmishing line 
 of a dangerous expedition, three forces acted 
 powerfully, — his strenuous New England train- 
 ing, his quietistic religious faith, and his simple- 
 hearted devotion to his cause. 
 
 In the character produced by the peculiar 
 New England environment there is latent — side 
 by side with garrulousness, inquisitiveness, and 
 the innate desire for community building — a 
 certain reticence, a self-centred tendency that 
 thrives in solitude, that wishes only to be let 
 alone. We know it best in letters through 
 
180 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTJER 
 
 Thoreau, who put into books the happiness his 
 independent mind found in isolation ; but all 
 New England villages have their parallel cases 
 of men and women whose only eccentricity lies 
 in a desire, often reaching a morbid height, to 
 be free from the trammels of community life. 
 Theoretically even we could predict such a ten- 
 dency, and such extreme examples of it, from a 
 training which on all sides, political and moral, 
 threw so strong an emphasis on the rights and 
 functions of the individual — on the doctrine 
 that the happiness of a being, like the weal of 
 his soul, was of his own making. In Whittier's 
 mind lay no morbidness, but there was naught 
 in all he had seen and experienced to make him 
 fear his comparative isolation or to grow weak 
 under it. 
 
 Eeligiously also he was accoutred to fight 
 his ills. As a child he seems to have submitted 
 almost passively to his doctrinal environment, 
 and in early manhood to have been influenced 
 powerfully only by the magnificent Quaker tenet 
 of the absolute equality of all persons before 
 their Maker, revealed in many a traditional 
 observance. In middle life the faith of the 
 Friends grew stronger within him, and in his 
 years of disappointment two other tenets became 
 clearer : the quietism, the openness of the soul, 
 nourished by frugality and abstinence, that puri- 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 181 
 
 fies the mind ; and that greater tenet — so absurd 
 to the dry logic of the eighteenth century, but 
 less repugnant in the romantic period of the 
 nineteenth, and now so consonant with our wider 
 knowledge of the mind's extraordinary powers 
 
 — that to the soul thus open comes a strange 
 inspiration, the actual prompting of the spirit, 
 the inner light from God. 
 
 That Whittier chafed under his spiritual limi- 
 tations and restrictions, and found this light 
 hard to seek, is apparent from a letter to his 
 friend Richard Mott, written in November, 
 1840: — 
 
 " I have to lament over protracted seasons of 
 doubt and darkness, to shrink back from the 
 discovery of some latent unfaithfulness and in- 
 sincerity, to find evil at the bottom of seeming 
 good, to abhor myself for selfishness and pride 
 and vanity, which at times manifest themselves, 
 
 — in short, to find the law of sin and death still 
 binding me. My temperament, ardent, impetu- 
 ous, imaginative, powerfully acted upon from 
 without, keenly susceptible to all influences from 
 the intellectual world, as well as to those of 
 nature, in her varied manifestations, is, I fear, 
 iU adapted to that quiet, submissive, introverted 
 state of patient and passive waiting for direction 
 and support under these trials and difficulties. 
 I think often of our meeting at Rhode Island, 
 
182 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 and at times something of a feeling of regret 
 comes over me, that I am so situated as not to 
 be permitted to enjoy the company and the care 
 and watchful ministrations of those whose labors 
 have been signally owned by the Great Head of 
 the church. Sitting down in our small meeting, 
 and feeling in myself and in the meeting gener- 
 ally a want of life, and of the renewing baptism 
 of that Spirit which alone can soften the hard- 
 ness and warm the coldness of the heart, I sigh 
 for the presence and the voices of the eminent 
 and faithful laborers in the Lord's vineyard. I 
 know that this out-looking of the spirit, this 
 craving of the eye and of the ear, is wrong, but 
 in the depths of spiritual weakness, is it not 
 natural to crave the support even of an earthly 
 arm?"i 
 
 But that his mind was deeply affected by his 
 religious beliefs and upheld in despondency is 
 plain from an incident to which he refers : — 
 
 "Did I mention to thee in my letter from 
 Newport a circumstance in relation to Richard 
 Mott ? On Fifth day evening, I called to see 
 J. J. Gurney, agreeable to his request, in refer- 
 ence to abolition matters. After our interview 
 was over, Richard Mott followed me to the door 
 and wished to accompany • me to my lodgings. 
 During our walk he told me he knew not how it 
 1 Pickard, Life, i. 262. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 183 
 
 was or why, but that his mind had been drawn 
 into a deep and extraordinary exercise of sym- 
 pathy with me ; that he had been sensible of a 
 deep trial and exercise in my own mind ; that 
 he had felt it so strongly that he could not rest 
 easy without informing me of it, although he 
 had heard nothing and seen nothing to produce 
 this conviction in his mind. He felt desirous to 
 offer me the language of encouragement, to urge 
 me to put aside every weight that encumbers, 
 and to look unto Him who was able . to deliver 
 from every trial. I confess I was startled. 
 Firmly as I believed the Quaker doctrine on this 
 subject, its personal application to myself in a 
 manner so utterly inexplicable by merely human 
 reasoning awed me. I said little to him, but 
 enough to show him something of the state of 
 my mind. Pray for me that I may not suffer 
 this most evident day of the Lord's visitation to 
 pass over and leave me as before." ^ 
 
 At all events, his heart was full of unselfish 
 devotion to God's service in the help of man : — 
 
 " But alas, I am laying out work for others, 
 while I am myself well-nigh powerless ! What 
 Providence has in store for me I know not, 
 but my heart is full of thankfulness that I have 
 been permitted to do something for the cause of 
 humanity, and that with all my sins and errors 
 
 1 Ibid. i. 261, from a letter to Ann E. Wendell. 
 
184 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 I have not been suffered to live wholly for my- 
 self." ^ 
 
 We now turn to the general political move- 
 ment of the period, to the share of the abolition- 
 ists in it, and to the part that Whittier him- 
 self played through his personal influence and 
 through his writings, both in prose and in verse. 
 
 Nowhere is American history more splendidly 
 interesting than between 1840 and 1860, for 
 there one may see the rapid development of 
 the irrepressible conflict between two great and 
 antagonistic economic systems, each fuUy ex- 
 panded. The breach was at first the merest rift, 
 a theoretical weakness, the moral element of 
 danger which Garrison was the first to proclaim 
 insistently in 1831. Jackson's strong handling 
 of nullification seemed to presage that the Union 
 was still so strong that nothing could shake it, 
 and by 1840, though the number of discontented 
 theorists in the North was growing larger, there 
 were only the faintest signs of a party that would 
 base itself on emancipation. But the greediness 
 of the South for further slave territory, and 
 the resulting annexation of Texas and war with 
 Mexico, swelled further the ranks of discontent 
 in the North and strengthened its determination 
 not to endure the extension of the Southern 
 system. That determination had its natural 
 1 Pickard, Life, i. 338. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 185 
 
 corollary in the increasing dislike to even the 
 incidental applications of the Southern sys- 
 tem in Northern territory, — to the necessary 
 enforcement of fugitive slave laws that were 
 wholly logical and proper under a federalistio 
 conception of the Union. 
 
 The compromise of 1850 marked the turning 
 point. The last effort had been made. Both 
 systems had grown to the full ; each had made 
 every allowance to the other; could they exist 
 side by side ? The old compromisers were pass- 
 ing away, and in their place grew up a race 
 of politicians of another sort : the arrogant 
 Davis, insistent upon the safeguards of the 
 Southern system and the vested rights of the 
 minority ; the solemn and misguided Seward, 
 with his law " higher " than the law ; Douglas, 
 elfish spirit of the new Western democracy, 
 demolishing and unable to rebuild ; and that 
 better spirit of the West, the slow and uncouth 
 Lincoln, in whose patient humanity lay the 
 nation's hope. 
 
 The new legislation was sudden and rash. 
 The repeal of the Missouri Compromise and the 
 promulgation of the doctrine of popular sover- 
 eignty threw the whole country into turmoil by 
 setting one man's hand against another in 
 Kansas. The Dred Scott decision appalled the 
 North and delighted the South by affirming that 
 
186 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 a freed slave could not become a citizen. Pop- 
 ular feeling grew stronger in both sections. The 
 South, exasperated at the thought of being re- 
 stricted in territory and becoming a minority, 
 refused to modify her system in such a way that 
 the majority could properly protect it, but 
 pushed forward her rights at every turn. The 
 North, feeling herself in the majority, was im- 
 patient of just demands. Strife in Kansas, the 
 burning of Lawrence, the dastardly murders of 
 John Brown, the outrageous personalities of 
 Sumner's speech and the more outrageous as- 
 sault upon him, the inevitable friction in the 
 enforcement of the fugitive slave laws, inflamed 
 the minds of all citizens. The Democratic party, 
 purged of a few Free-Soilers, became distinctly 
 pro-slavery. The Whig party, never securely 
 based, crumbled away. A new party arose, dis- 
 tinctly anti-slavery in character, taking right- 
 fully an old name, though on another issue. 
 Growing with great rapidity, it polled a large 
 vote in 1856 for a bad candidate, and by 1860 
 it was completely organized and clearly success- 
 ful. The majority was now in power, and the 
 Eepublican platform, though conservative in the 
 extreme, meant that the Northern economic 
 system of free labor should be dominant. 
 
 The new party was preeminently one of intel- 
 ligent men, who had arrived at their conclusions 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 187 
 
 through thought, reading, and discussion. The 
 presidential campaigns of 1856 and 1860 were 
 educational campaigns, and so were many local 
 and minor campaigns that preceded them. And 
 in this information and education of the public 
 the abolitionists had certainly taken the lead. 
 The anti-slavery party was not solely the result 
 of their ministrations. The best arguments are 
 facts. It was the fact of an antiquated economic 
 system entrenched in the South, and carrying 
 numerous national evils in its train, that con- 
 vinced the minds of men that this system must 
 be destroyed or modified, or at least confined to 
 a specially defined area, where its evils could be 
 minimized. But in the propaganda of the indu- 
 bitable fact, the abolitionists, in spite of their 
 extreme position, their exasperating positiveness, 
 and at times their plain fanaticism, carried the 
 banner. 
 
 As I have already explained, the abolitionists 
 were, by 1840, divided into two distinct parties, 
 one under the leadership of Garrison, holding 
 fast to the moral regeneration of the public, and 
 the other, without a leader, believing in political 
 agitation and organization. The Garrisonian 
 party moved rapidly but logically to an extreme 
 position. If slavery be the great sin of the 
 land, but yet countenanced by the law of the 
 country and enforced within the limits of many 
 
188 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 states, then the righteous must hold that the law 
 is false and that safety lies only in breaking all 
 bonds of union with these states. In April, 
 1842, Garrison dwelt in the "Liberator" on 
 " the duty of making the repeal or the union 
 between the North and the South the grand 
 rallying-point until it be accomplished, or slavery 
 cease to pollute our soil. We are for throwing 
 all the means, energies, actions, purposes, and 
 appliances of the genuine friends of liberty and 
 republicanism into this one channel, and for 
 measuring the humanity, patriotism, and piety 
 of every man by this one standard. This ques- 
 tion can no longer be avoided, and a right decision 
 of it will settle the controversy between freedom 
 and slavery." ^ 
 
 In May, he placed at the head of his editorial 
 column this declaration : "^ repeal of the union 
 between northern liberty and southern slavery 
 is essential to the abolition of the one and the 
 preservation of the other." ^ 
 
 On October 30, addressing a turbulent meeting 
 in Boston at the time of the Latimer case, Wen- 
 dell Phillips said, in his indignation : — 
 
 " We presume to believe the Bible outweighs 
 the statute-book. When I look upon these 
 crowded thousands, and see them trample on 
 their consciences and the rights of their fellow- 
 
 ^ William Lloyd Garrison, iii. 52. ' Ibid. iii. 56. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 189 
 
 men, at the bidding of a piece of parchment, I 
 say, my curse be on the Constitution of these 
 United States ! " i 
 
 At the annual meeting of the Massachusetts 
 Anti-Slavery Society in January, 1843, Garrison 
 secured the passage of the following resolution : 
 
 " Hesolved, That the compact which exists 
 between the North and the South is ' a covenant 
 with death and an agreement with hell' — in- 
 volving both parties in atrocious criminality — 
 and should be immediately annulled." ^ 
 
 Men holding such opinions would not vote. 
 Their motto was " no union with slaveholders," 
 political, religious, or personal. This disunion 
 sentiment was soon held by a comparatively large 
 number of abolitionists, and was officially ac- 
 cepted by many county and state organizations 
 in the East and West. It led logically to the 
 more radical doctrine that the North was justi- 
 fied in breaking violently away from the South, 
 and to the aid furnished to John Brown in the 
 Harper's Ferry fiasco. At the Disunion Con- 
 vention of 1857 it was '■'■Resolved, That the 
 sooner the separation takes place, the more 
 peaceful it will be ; but that peace or war is a 
 secondary consideratioii, in view of our present 
 perils. Slavery must be conquered, ' peaceably 
 if we can, forcibly if we must.' " ^ 
 
 1 Md. iii. 66. = jf^cl. iii. 88. » lUd. iii. 457. 
 
190 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 And at the Boston meeting in Tremont Temple, 
 on the day John Brown was hanged, Garrison 
 virtually approved his deed and his plan : — 
 
 " Whenever there is a contest between the 
 oppressed and the oppressor, — the weapons 
 being equal between the parties, — God knows 
 that my heart must be with the oppressed, and 
 always against the oppressor. Therefore, when- 
 ever commenced, I cannot but wish success to 
 all slave insurrections. I thank God when men 
 who believe in the right and duty of wielding 
 carnal weapons are so far advanced that they 
 will take those weapons out of the scale of des- 
 potism, and throw them into the scale of freedom. 
 It is an indication of progress, and a positive 
 moral growth ; it is one way to get up to the 
 sublime platform of non-resistance ; and it is 
 God's method of dealing retribution upon the 
 head of the tyrant. Rather than see men wear- 
 ing their chains in a cowardly and servile spirit, 
 I would, as an advocate of peace, much rather 
 see them breaking the head of the tyrant with 
 their chains. "Give me, as a non-resistant. Bunker 
 HiU, and Lexington, and Concord, rather than 
 the cowardice and servility of a Southern slave- 
 plantation." ^ 
 
 With such disunion sentiments — treasonable 
 as we may think them now — Whittier was at 
 ' William Lloyd Garrison, iii. 492. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 191 
 
 times partly in sympathy. In March, 1842, he 
 wrote to his abolitionist friend Sewall : " I fear 
 we shall get dragged into a war after all, — a 
 war in defence of the vilest negro traffic existing 
 anywhere save on the African coast ! It is un- 
 endurable ! And if Texas is to be added to us, 
 as there are no doubtful indications, let us say, 
 Disunion before Texas ! " ^ And a stanza of 
 his " Texas " (1844) was first published as 
 
 " Make our Union-band a chain, 
 We will snap its links in twain, 
 We will stand erect again ! " 
 
 In all but rare moments, however, he was 
 consistently on the side of progress according to 
 law, a firm believer in securing political results 
 through political as well as moral agitation. 
 The enormous popular force required to secure 
 disunion would be more than enough, he was 
 accustomed to declare, to secure union with 
 emancipation. The work of his life lay in the 
 building up of an anti-slavery party such as he 
 described in 1841-42 in writing to the English 
 humanitarian and philanthropist, his friend 
 Joseph Sturge : — 
 
 " The two great political parties in the United 
 
 States, radically disagreeing in almost all other 
 
 points, are of one heart and mind in opposing 
 
 emancipation; not, I suppose, from any real 
 
 1 Piokard, Life, i. 288. 
 
192 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 affinity to, or love for the ' peculiar institution,' 
 but for the purpose of securing the votes of the 
 slaveholders, who, more consistent than the 
 Northern abolitionists, refuse to support any 
 man for office who is not willing to do homage 
 to slavery. The competition between these two 
 parties for Southern favor is one of the most 
 painful and disgusting spectacles which presents 
 itself to the view of a stranger in the United 
 States. To every well-wisher of America it must 
 be a matter of interest and satisfaction to know 
 that there is a growing determination in the 
 free States to meet the combination of slave- 
 holders in behalf of slavery by one of freemen 
 in behalf of liberty ; and thus compel the party 
 politicians, on the ground of expediency, if not 
 of principle, to break from the thraldom of the 
 slave power, and array themselves on the side of 
 freedom." ^ 
 
 The same doctrine is laid down in his address 
 to the citizens of Amesbury and Salisbury, after 
 the assault on Sumner : — 
 
 "Fearing I may not be able to attend the 
 meeting this evening, I beg leave to say a word 
 to my fellow-citizens. I need not say how fully 
 I sympathize with the object of the meeting, nor 
 speak of my grief for the sufferings and danger 
 of a beloved friend, now nearer and dearer than 
 
 1 Joseph Sturge, A Visit to the United States in 1841, 230. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 193 
 
 ever, stricken down at his post of duty, for his 
 manly defence of freedom ; nor of my mingled 
 pity, horror, and indignation in view of the 
 atrocities in Kansas. It seems to me to be no 
 time for the indulgence of mere emotions. Nei- 
 ther railing nor threats befit the occasion. It is 
 our first duty to inquire why it is that the bad 
 men in power have been emboldened to commit 
 the outrages of which we complain. Why is it 
 that the South has dared to make such experi- 
 ments upon us ? The North is not united for 
 freedom, as the South is for slavery. We are 
 split into factions, we get up paltry side issues, 
 and quarrel with and abuse each other, and the 
 Slave Power, as a matter of course, takes advan- 
 tage of our folly. That evil power is only strong 
 through our dissensions. It could do nothing 
 against a united North. The one indispensable 
 thing for us is Union. Can we not have it? 
 Can we not set an example in this very neigh- 
 borhood, — Whigs, Democrats, Free-Soilers, and 
 Americans, joining hands in defence of our 
 common liberties? We must forget, forgive, 
 and ITNITE. I feel a solemn impression that the 
 present opportunity is the last that will be of- 
 fered us for the peaceful and constitutional 
 remedy of the evil which afflicts us. The crisis 
 in our destiny has come : the hour is striking of 
 our final and irrevocable choice. God grant 
 
194 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 that it may be rightfully made. Let us not be 
 betrayed into threats. Leave violence where it 
 belongs, with the wrong-doer. It is worse than 
 folly to talk of fighting Slavery, when we have 
 not yet agreed to vote against it. Our business 
 is with poll-boxes, not cartridge-boxes ; with 
 ballots, not bullets. The path of duty is plain : 
 God's providence calls us to walk in it. Let me 
 close by repeating, ^ovgei, forgive, and unite." ^ 
 
 With these aims in view he labored faithfully 
 for the Liberty party and the Free-Soil party, 
 and later for the Republican party, not pushing 
 his companions further or faster than they would 
 go, and willing to join with them in platforms 
 that said nothing about abolition, provided he 
 was sure that they were reaUy antagonistic to 
 the dangerous economic system to which the 
 South was wedded. From talk of armed inter- 
 ference he kept aloof, and his letter to Sumner, 
 after John Brown's raid, shows how, unlike Em- 
 erson, Thoreau, Higginson, and Garrison, he was 
 firm in his opposition to the use of unlawful 
 means, as weU a.s shrewd in seeing how the dis- 
 aster could best be turned to political account : — 
 
 " I have expressed my views of the Harper's 
 Ferry outbreak. I am anxious that our Repub- 
 lican members of Congress should meet the 
 matter fairly, and unequivocally condemn all 
 iPiekard, £i/e, i. 382. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 195 
 
 filibustering, whether for freedom or slavery. 
 I like Trumbull's motion — Harper's Ferry is 
 the natural result of the slaveholders' forays 
 into Kansas, and both should be considered 
 together. The distinction should be made clear 
 between the natural sympathy with the man and 
 approval of his mad, and, as I think, most dan- 
 gerous and unjustifiable act. The North is sound 
 on this point — there are few who approve of the 
 raid over the border." ^ 
 
 The foregoing summary of the political move- 
 ment of the period and of the progress of aboli- 
 tionism is necessary for a clear understanding of 
 Whittier's acts and opinions ; for we must not 
 forget that he was still a reformer and not yet a 
 man of letters. We may now pass to his own 
 share in the propaganda. 
 
 We have already called attention to the pro- 
 found differences of opinion among the aboli- 
 tionists as to the methods and means to be 
 employed in reaching their end. The first crux 
 was the part which women should play in the 
 movement, a point involved in the famous Cler- 
 ical Appeal of 1837. Though Whittier censured 
 the Appeal, and though he believed himself in 
 the participation of women, he thought that 
 prudence demanded that the abolitionists refrain 
 from awakening against themselves any strong 
 
 1 Pickard, Life, ii. 425. 
 
196 JOHN QREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 popular prejudice. His letter of August 14, 
 1837, to the Misses Grimke, who had not only 
 spoken with great effect in public, but were being 
 urged to publish a set of letters on the subject 
 of women's rights, shows precisely his point of 
 view : — 
 
 " I am anxious, too, to hold a long conversa- 
 tion with you on the subject of war, human 
 government, and church and family government. 
 The more I reflect on this subject, the more 
 difficulty I find, and the more decidedly I am 
 of opinion that we ought to hold all these mat- 
 ters far aloof from the cause of abolition. Our 
 good friend H. C. Wright, with the best inten- 
 tions in the world, is doing great injury by a 
 different course. He is making the anti-slavery 
 party responsible in great degree for his, to say 
 the least, startling opinions. I do not censure 
 him for them, although I cannot subscribe to 
 them in all their length and breadth. But let 
 him keep them distinct from the cause of eman- 
 cipation. [He instances also Garrison's policy 
 in inserting in the ' Liberator ' articles on Gra- 
 hamism and no-governmentism as an injustice 
 to the subscribers to the cause, who desire to 
 have their money spent for the spread of the doc- 
 trine of immediate emancipation.] 
 
 " In regard to another subject, ' the rights of 
 woman,' you are now doing much and nobly to 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 197 
 
 vindicate and assert the rights of woman. Your 
 lectures to crowded and promiscuous audiences 
 on a subject manifestly in many of its aspects 
 political, interwoven with the framework of the 
 government, are practical and powerful asser- 
 tions of the right and duty of woman to labor 
 side by side with her brother for the welfare 
 and redemption of the world. Why, then, let 
 me ask, is it necessary for you to enter the lists 
 as controversial writers on this question ? Does 
 it not look, dear sisters, like abandoning in some 
 degree the cause of the poor and miserable slave, 
 sighing from the cotton plantation of the Mis- 
 sissippi, and whose cries and groans are forever 
 sounding in our ears, for the purpose of arguing 
 and disputing about some trifling oppression, 
 political or social, which we may ourselves suf- 
 fer?"! 
 
 Though Whittier's attitude throughout the 
 controversy that ensued in the various anti- 
 slavery societies was sensible and discreet, the 
 feelings of Garrison and the Boston abolitionists 
 were plainly hurt, and they grew more and more 
 to regard him as a backslider. And when the 
 second crux appeared, the question whether the 
 " Liberator " was the official organ of abolition- 
 ism and should devote itself more exclusively to 
 that special cause, and when Whittier was again 
 1 C. H. Birney, The GrimU Sisters, 203. 
 
198 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 found siding with the New York group of polit- 
 ical workers on the basis of expediency, the 
 breach became complete. Garrison, in his blunt 
 way, declared that Whittier's withdrawal from 
 the " Pennsylvania Freeman " on account of iU 
 health was no great loss,'' and in the " Liberator " 
 for August 12, 1842, he spoke thus harshly of 
 his old friend : — 
 
 " Let us now trace this affair a little further. 
 Let us see what has become of those who once 
 stood so prominently before the American people 
 as abolitionists of the most flaming character, 
 and who separated from the old organization in 
 order to show their superior zeal in the cause of 
 emancipation by advocating it as ' men of one 
 idea.' 
 
 " 1. Where is James G. Birney ? In Western 
 ' retiracy,' waiting to be elected President of the 
 United States, that he may have an opportunity 
 to do something for the abolition of slavery. . . . 
 
 "6. Where is John G. Whittier? At home, 
 we believe, but incapable of doing anything im- 
 portant for the cause — except to write political, 
 
 1 " J. G. Whittier has retired from the editorial chair of the 
 ' Freeman.' The time has been when we should have deeply 
 regretted to make this announcement; but, in his present 
 state of mind, as it respects political action and ' new organ- 
 ization,' and in view of the course he has thought proper to 
 pursue in regard to the state of things in this his native com- 
 mon^vealth, we are reconciled to his withdrawal." 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 199 
 
 electioneering addresses for the ' Liberty party.' 
 New organization has affected his spirit to a 
 withering extent, and politics will complete the 
 ruin, if he ' tarry in all the plain.' " 
 
 Garrison's chief supporters shared his feel- 
 ings. Mrs. Chapman is reported to have been 
 doubtful whether Whittier was more knave or 
 fool, and placed him on the " clerical platform 
 of hatred to Mr. Garrison." ^ In 1839 or 1840 
 Lydia Maria Child wrote as follows to Abby 
 Hopper Gibbons : — 
 
 " In those days, I little dreamed of the pain- 
 ful and mortifying divisions that have since dis- 
 tracted our ranks. Yet a glance backward at 
 all other reforms might have prepared me for it. 
 The Apostles soon had those among them who 
 came ' to spy out their liberty ; ' and why should 
 I marvel at John G. Whittier, when I recollect 
 that Barnabas himself was 'led away by their 
 dissimulations ' ? 
 
 " Yet I am surprised that Whittier does not 
 perceive the glaring fact that the Massachusetts 
 Society is composed of men who walk abroad at 
 noonday ■ — who, at least, have nothing to con- 
 ceal, and no necessity for assuming, while the 
 New Organization are resorting to all manner 
 of management and trickery, taking ground on 
 
 1 Maria Weston Chapman, Bight and Wrong in Massachu- 
 setts (1840), 99. 
 
200 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 false issues, shifting ground, when that on which 
 they stand is too obviously hollow. . . . This 
 pretending one thing and meaning another I 
 have no patience with." ^ 
 
 In 1840, N. P. Eogers, in the "Anti-Slavery 
 Standard," thus proclaims him as an outsider : — 
 
 " Who could have thought, while contemplat- 
 ing the lofty effusions of our anti-slavery bard, 
 that ' new organization ' would ever be able to 
 ' tame ' or to ' catch ' his ethereal spirit, or fet- 
 ter his free limbs in its narrow harness ? Alas ! 
 has it not caught him, and reduced him, and 
 tamed him, as to all further cooperation in the 
 enterprise of which he has ever been the orna- 
 ment and pride ? It may be to humble us in 
 thfe dust, that star after star in our enterprise is 
 thus starting from its sphere in the anti-slavery 
 firmament, and disappearing like an exploded 
 meteor. Whittier at length goes out, we fear, 
 among the other wandering luminaries. We 
 speak it with grief, for we have gloried in his 
 light and beauty. But, henceforth, we look for 
 him no longer blazing in the anti-slavery van, 
 bearing his shield gallantly abreast of the ' Lib- 
 erator,' — celebrating the triumphs of freedom 
 in deathless verse, and bursting forth on tyranny 
 in volcanic explosion, as it developed itself from 
 time to time, under the Ithuriel touches of our 
 
 1 S. H. Emerson, Life of Ahby Hopper Gibbons (1883), 146. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 201 
 
 movemeSnt. We look no longer for his banner 
 in the anti-slavery field. He is transferred to 
 another service." ^ 
 
 And even as late as 1848 Sidney Howard 
 Gay, the editor of the " National Anti-Slavery 
 Standard," deemed it necessary to prefix the fol- 
 lowing words to Lowell's review of Whittier's 
 poems (Dec. 21, 1848) : — 
 
 " It is pleasant ^ to hear the completeness and 
 beauty of the tribute of praise rendered by poet 
 to poet ; to test the harmony by a touch of the 
 key-note, which, however gentle, will strike 
 harshly upon the unpractised ear : but older 
 abolitionists cannot forget what Mr. Lowell 
 cannot be aware of, that in the struggle of 
 1840, which was a struggle for life or death 
 to the anti-slavery cause, Whittier, the Quaker, 
 was found side by side with the men who 
 would have sacrificed that cause, to crush, ac- 
 cording even to their own acknowledgment, the 
 right of woman to plead publicly in behalf of 
 the slave, and to cripple the influence and power 
 of men accused of no other crime than that of 
 holding to the old Quaker doctrine ^ not to 
 go farther back — of ' resist not evil ! ' We can 
 
 1 Qnoted in W. S. Kennedy, Whittier, American Reformers 
 Series, 160. 
 
 2 The text reads, " It is not pleasant ; " tut the not is obvi- 
 ously eontrary to the sense. The author may, perhaps, have 
 written " Is it not." 
 
202 JOHN GREEN LEAF WHITTIER 
 
 join in any praises of the genius of the poet, hut 
 not of the man who has not the manliness and 
 courage to honor in his life the truths he loves 
 to celebrate in song." 
 
 Thus estranged, through no fault save zeal on 
 either side, from the hody of New England abo- 
 litionists, Whittier labored long, faithfully, and 
 with good results in the political field of his own 
 district. With his little band of third party 
 voters he held the balance of power, and, as we 
 have already recounted, kept Gushing in Con- 
 gress to represent the North Essex District only 
 because Gushing was pledged to support, in cer- 
 tain ways, his cause ; and on one occasion, as a 
 candidate himself, he prevented for more than 
 a year the election of either of two equally un- 
 satisfactory candidates. Similarly it is said to 
 have been partly his influence that sent Bantoul 
 to represent the South District. 
 
 How strong his hold was on Gushing is appar- 
 ent from the following diplomatic epistle from 
 him, apparently written in the early part of this 
 period : ^ — 
 
 John G. Whittier, Esqe. 
 
 My dear Sir: — Your letter dated the 3rd 
 inst. and postmarked the 5th, did not reach me 
 
 ^ From the orig-iual in the possession of the Misses Johnson 
 and Mrs. Woodman. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 203 
 
 until this afternoon on my return from Salem, 
 where I have been attending the Supreme Court. 
 I write a line of reply, in great haste, for the pos- 
 sibility of some private conveyance to Haverhill. 
 
 I profess that I think the situation of the 
 District of Columbia, in respect of slavery and 
 the slave traffic, is wholly indefensible ; that I 
 should heartily rejoice in any change for the 
 better ; and that I should, of course, wherever I 
 may be, favor any feasible project for attaining 
 so desirable an end. In so representing my 
 opinion, therefore, you have but done me justice. 
 At the same time, however, I should be unwill- 
 ing to enter Congress pledged to institute a 
 legislative measure, either upon this or any sub- 
 ject of national policy and legislation, unless it 
 were a point directly and publicly put in issue 
 by my own constituents ; in which case I should 
 feel bound either to obey their instructions, or 
 to yield my place to some other Representative. 
 
 I write you this frankly, because between you 
 and me there should be no reservation of views 
 on my part. But I have not time to weigh my 
 language sufficiently for publication ; and there- 
 fore commit these few lines, uncopied, to your 
 friendly discretion. It has repeatedly occurred 
 to me that a judicious and temperate correspond- 
 ence between you and me upon this class of 
 topics written for the press, might be made inter- 
 
204 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 esting and useful in so modifying the views of 
 the respective friends of either side of the ques- 
 tion, as to produce a reasonable degree of har- 
 mony upon it among all New Englanders. But 
 this is a grave enterprise, and requires consider- 
 ation ; and is not a thing to be thrust into the 
 bowels of a contested election at the present 
 moment. 
 
 As for the balloting of Monday, while I hope 
 for the best, and am assured that good feelings 
 obtain throughout the District, yet I am ready 
 for any result, and cannot be disappointed. 
 
 [Signature cut out.J 
 
 Newbury Port, Saturday Afternoon. 
 
 In practical politics results are effected only at 
 the expense of much time, energy, and adroitness, 
 and it is pleasant to find Whittier so indefatiga- 
 ble in his self-imposed duties. A letter of George 
 Bradburn's to his wife, written in 1846, shows 
 how others viewed his efforts : — 
 
 " John is one of the greatest workers, politi- 
 cally even, in all our State. I sometimes wonder 
 how so fine a mind can stoop to such drudgery. 
 But Whittier has as much benevolence as he has 
 ideality. He knows the drudgery must be done, 
 and, since no one else does it, will do it himself. 
 May Heaven bless him." ^ 
 
 1 A Memorial of George Bradburn (1883), 146. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 205 
 
 An extract from a letter written by Whittier to 
 his sister in 1845 will indicate even more plainly 
 the way in which he patrolled his district : — 
 
 "Mother is at Haverhill. On Sixth day I 
 carried her up, and then proceeded upon my 
 mission among the abolitionists. Got to Haver- 
 hill, called on several of the ' Liberty men,' and 
 finally held a meeting — a sort of impromptu 
 affair — at which eloquent speeches were made 
 by several gentlemen, Mr. Algernon Sydney 
 Nichols among the rest. When it came to my 
 turn I began with as much vehemence as Mr. 
 Pickwick, but broke down about midway, and 
 gradually subsided into a sort of melancholy 
 monotone, which under other circumstances 
 would have been very affecting. As it was, I 
 am not very sanguine of its effect upon my 
 audience, but, like Paul's unknown tongues, it 
 at least edified myself. . . . From Haverhill I 
 went to Bradford, called on Father P., heard 
 his testimony against the come-outers ; called on 
 the come-outers and heard theirs against Father 
 P., — listening with patient but non-committal 
 civility to both, — urging all parties to forego 
 their contentions and emulate each other in the 
 good cause of Liberty. Then I drove down to 
 Griffin's ; took dinner, and then he and I started 
 for Newbury and Newburyport, where I trust 
 we did good service." ^ 
 
 I Pickard, Life, i. 309. 
 
206 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 But this earnest work iu local politics did not 
 preclude his personal participation in the larger 
 field. His eye was fixed on the national issue, 
 and he was not diverted by local issues, by tem- 
 porary successes or defeats. He realized the 
 value of every move in the great game. He 
 helped wherever he could, most of all by his 
 counsel. He was Joseph Sturge's guide in his 
 effort to throw the weight of Quaker organiza- 
 tion on the anti-slavery side ; he devised petitions 
 to the Massachusetts legislature and to Congress, 
 and was, with Henry Wilson, delegated in 1845 
 to carry to Washington the Liberty petition, 
 containing sixty thousand names, against the 
 annexation of Texas ; he urged on John P. Hale 
 in New Hampshire politics ; he aided in various 
 coalitions, notably that by which Boutwell be- 
 came governor of Massachusetts and Charles 
 Sumner went to the Senate. In the latter case 
 Sumner was apparently the man of Whittier's 
 own choosing and Whittier the intermediary 
 who persuaded Sumner to enter the scheme, and 
 his memory of their interview at Swampscott 
 found its place in his verse : — 
 
 " Thon knowest my heart, dear friend, and well canst gnesa 
 That, even though silent, I have not the less 
 Rejoiced to see thy actual life agree 
 With the large future which I shaped for thee, 
 When, years ago, beside the summer sea. 
 White in the moon, we saw the long waves fall 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 207 
 
 BafEled and broken from the rooky wall, 
 
 That, to the menace of the brawling flood, 
 
 Opposed alone its massive quietude, 
 
 Calm as a fate ; with not a leaf nor vine 
 
 Nor birch-spray trembling in the still moonshine, 
 
 Crowning it like God's peace." ^ 
 
 He was alert to discover men of sincerity of 
 purpose and good repute with the public at 
 large who could represent the third party in 
 Congress or elsewhere. He urged John Pierpont 
 and Longfellow to run for Congress, and sug- 
 gested many excellent nominations, as would 
 be expected of one who, as editor and poet, 
 knew the real feelings of New Englanders per- 
 haps better than any other living man. And 
 when he found the moral enthusiast and the 
 politician combined, he was active in guiding 
 him by sound advice and stimulating him to 
 renewed effort. Sumner came to Amesbury to 
 consult him and was in frequent correspondence 
 with him, — a correspondence that had less in it 
 of personal friendship than of common devotion 
 to a great mission. The following letter of 
 1848, for example, is typical of many : — 
 
 " In the mean time, what will the New York 
 Barnburners do? Is there no hope of uniting 
 with them, and erecting on the ruins of the old 
 parties the great party of Christian Democracy 
 and Progress ? Why try to hold on to these old 
 1 To Charles Sumner (1854). 
 
208 JOHN GREEN LEAF WHITTIER 
 
 parties, even in name ? ... It strikes me that 
 it would be best not to make a nomination at 
 Worcester, but to appoint delegates to a general 
 convention of the friends of Freedom and Free 
 Soil, without distinction of party, the time and 
 place of which not to be fixed before consultation 
 with friends of the movement in other States. 
 Don't stultify yourselves by boasting of your 
 Whiggery. That did when Taylor was nomi- 
 nated. Judge Allen is right : the Whig party 
 is dissolved. Let your emancipated friends now 
 rise to the sublime altitude of men who labor for 
 the race, for humanity. Send out from your 
 convention, if you will, a long and careful state- 
 ment of the facts in the case, but with it also an 
 appeal to the people which shall reach and waken 
 into vigorous life all that remains of weakness 
 in the North. Kindle up the latent enthusiasm 
 of the Yankee character, call out the grim fa- 
 naticism of the Puritan. Dare ! dare 1 dare ! 
 as Danton told the French ; that is the secret of 
 successful revolt. Oh, for a man ! There is 
 the difficulty, after all. Who is to head the 
 movement ? Hale has many of the martial qual- 
 ities of a leader. As a stump orator he is second 
 only to John Van Buren, who, by the bye, I 
 would far rather see in nomination for the presi- 
 dency than his father or Judge McLean. It 
 would be folly and suicide to nominate a shrink- 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 209 
 
 ing conservative, whose heart is not with you, 
 and whom you must drag up to your level by 
 main force. . . . You must have a new and bold 
 man, one to whom old notions and practices on 
 the question of slavery are like threads of tow, 
 breaking with the first movement of his limbs. 
 But this advice, however well meant on my part, 
 is doubtless not needed. You have strong and 
 noble men, — Adams, Howe, Phillips, Wilson, 
 Hoar, Allen, and others. I only wish you had 
 the power of the French provisional govern- 
 ment ; I could answer for the wisdom of your 
 decrees." ^ 
 
 AU this, it must be remembered, was in a 
 period of turmoil and disaster, of scheming and 
 compromising, a period that appeared inexpressi- 
 bly ignoble to the simple-minded theorists who 
 held for the pure ideal. In the world-old conflict 
 for justice, they have the better part who, like 
 Garrison, can stand alone, insisting on the moral 
 regeneration of the public, and waiting for the 
 millennium. Whittier, like all reforming politi- 
 cians, chose the less ideal but equally necessary 
 task of helping by main force to bring about the 
 right, little by little, point by point, fighting in 
 the ruck of it all, and open always to the charge 
 of merely temporizing. Nor, in his special case, 
 could he even hope to secure a politician's reward 
 1 Pickard, Life, i. 331. 
 
210 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 of fame. He was only doing what many others 
 did — the plain political duty of the citizen re- 
 former. 
 
 But Whittier's best service to the cause to 
 which he has devoted his life was through his 
 pen, in both his old qualities, so oddly diverse, 
 of journalist and of poet. 
 
 In the winter of 1841-42 he took charge for 
 a short period of the Boston " Emancipator " to 
 relieve his old friend Joshua Leavitt, and in the 
 autumn of 1841 he had lent similar aid to the 
 "American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Reporter," 
 which had been begun in New York in June, 
 1840, as the mouthpiece of the " new organizar 
 tion," the American and Foreign Anti-Slavery 
 Society. Those were the days when Garrison 
 was under criticism for upholding other heresies 
 than emancipation in the "Liberator," and it 
 was plainly this that Whittier had in mind when 
 in April, 1841, he wrote to the " Reporter " a 
 letter of warm commendation : " Its crowning 
 glory is that it is precisely what it pretends to 
 be — an anti-slavery paper. It adheres to its 
 one object with singleness of purpose. It neither 
 assails nor encourages other schemes for reform 
 which may be abroad in society." In spite of 
 this, the " Reporter " was a very dull sheet in- 
 deed, a mere official bulletin, not worthy of 
 comparison with the " Liberator." The officers 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 211 
 
 of the new society apparently felt this, for in the 
 issue of September 1, 1841, the executive com- 
 mittee were happy " to announce that they have 
 secured the services of John G. Whittier in the 
 Editorial Department of the ' Reporter,' as far 
 as the state of his health will admit." A para- 
 graph from Whittier follows to state that " he 
 has engaged to contribute to the Editorial De- 
 partment of the ' Reporter,' as far as the state 
 of his health and his present necessary absence 
 from the place of publication will permit. He 
 can promise little save an honest effort to aid 
 the cause to which the best portion of his life 
 has been hitherto devoted. Situated as he is, it 
 is due to all parties concerned to say that he can 
 be held responsible for nothing more than such 
 articles as may bear his signature." 
 
 The same number contains articles by Whit- 
 tier on Joseph Sturge and on Slavery in the Dis- 
 trict of Columbia. In the following number, that 
 of October 1, 1841, the editor falls sturdily upon 
 Edward Everett, whom he had so soundly be- 
 rated in 1836. Everett had since then distinctly 
 avowed an entire change of opinion on the sub- 
 ject of emancipation, and professed a thorough 
 conversion to the doctrines of the abolitionists. 
 But his nomination as minister to England had 
 just been confirmed by the Senate, and Whittier 
 suspected him of having intimated to interested 
 
212 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 parties that his conversion had been merely tem- 
 porary : — 
 
 " Governor Everett is now in Europe. We 
 will do him the justice to believe that the pitiful 
 disclaimers of his political friends, in and out of 
 Congress, have been made without his consent 
 or even knowledge, and that in his letters to 
 Quincy, Borden, and Jackson, he really meant 
 what he said. It must, we conceive, somewhat 
 abate his satisfaction in view of his appointment, 
 to If arn that it was only obtained by strenuous 
 efforts on the part of his professed friends, to 
 show that his anti-slavery professions were purely 
 hypocritical, and that he had been mean and 
 wicked enough to obtain abolition votes in Mas- 
 sachusetts under false pretences." 
 
 But the executive committee must have seen 
 the hopelessness of their effort, even with Whit- 
 tier's aid. No other number of the " Reporter " 
 appeared until June, 1842, and then there were 
 no articles signed by Whittier and apparently 
 none written by him.^ 
 
 In 1844 Whittier again assumed charge of 
 one .of the many local abolitionist organs, this 
 time the weekly " Middlesex Standard," of Low- 
 ell, the first number of which was published 
 
 1 For the opportunity to ezaiuine the file of this now very 
 rare periodical I am indehted to the kindness of the Library 
 of Cornell Uniyersity. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 213 
 
 under his editorship on July 25. He took lodg- 
 ings at the Temperance Hotel in Lowell, and 
 continued to furnish the greater part of the 
 original matter for the paper until October, 
 when Mr. C. L. Knapp, of Vermont, joined him 
 as an assistant. Beginning with October 31, 
 Whittier and Knapp were joint-editors, but the 
 paper was gradually turned over to the latter. 
 After the issue of March 13, 1845, it was consoli- 
 dated with the Worcester County Liberty paper, 
 and, as the " Worcester and Middlesex Ga- 
 zette," was published both in Worcester and in 
 LoweU. 
 
 In the columns of this obscure sheet, only one 
 file of which is known to be preserved,-' is to be 
 found what seems to me Whittier's best work as 
 a journalist. It was a new paper; he was in 
 complete control ; he was at the height of his 
 power and experience ; he was addressing the 
 men of his own county in the midst of an excit- 
 ing campaign ; and he was perhaps stimulated to 
 do his best by the strikingly vigorous life of the 
 young manufacturing city. Certainly he never 
 wrote with more freedom and energy, with less 
 personal reticence. In the issue of September 
 12, 1844, he thus welcomed Ralph Waldo Emer- 
 son's " Address Delivered in the Court House 
 of Concord on the 1st of August, 1844 : " — 
 
 1 In the collection of the Lowell Historical Society. 
 
214 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 " With a glow of heart, with silently invoked 
 blessings, we have read the address whose title 
 is at the head of this article. We had previ- 
 ously, we confess, felt half indignant that, while 
 we were struggling against the popular current, 
 mobbed, hunted, denounced from the legislative 
 forum, cursed from the pulpit, sneered at by 
 wealth and fashion and shallow aristocracy, 
 such a man as Ralph Waldo Emerson should 
 be brooding over his pleasant philosophies, writ- 
 ing his quaint and beautiful essays, in his retire- 
 ment on the banks of the Concord, unconcerned 
 and 'calm as a summer morning.' . . . How 
 could he sit there, thus silent ? Did no ripple 
 of the world's agitation break the quiet of old 
 Concord? Garrison's fierce trumpet blast — 
 Lovejoy's heroic death — the women of Boston 
 beset by aristocratic mobs — Birney's shattered 
 printing-presses sinking in the Ohio — that sub- 
 lime old man of Quincy contending single-handed 
 with the Slave-Power in Congress — Channing's 
 prophet-utterances among Berkshire mountains 
 ■ — Pierpont's Tyrtsean words, — not even these 
 seemed to startle the philosophic dreamer, or 
 disturb the organ-flow of his beautiful abstrac- 
 tions." 
 
 An even more striking editorial was that in 
 which, at the end of the Polk-Clay-Birney cam- 
 paign, he defended himself against the charge 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 215 
 
 of inconsistency in deserting Clay, his youthful 
 verses in whose praise his opponents had not 
 hesitated to circulate : — 
 
 " So far as we were personally concerned, we 
 had no disposition to exaggerate the faults of the 
 Whig candidate. His brilliant talents, his early 
 republicanism, his splendid eloquence, excited 
 our boyish enthusiasm and admiration. We 
 would not rob him of one tittle of his just fame 
 as a statesman and man of genius. But when 
 his friends urged him upon us for the highest 
 place in the gift of a free people, we felt bound 
 to speak the whole truth of his present position 
 and past history in relation to the cause of Free- 
 dom. We had no other alternative. In linking, 
 deliberately and before the world, his destiny 
 with the tottering cause of slavery — in closing 
 his eyes to the signs of the times, and his ears 
 to the shouts of the emancipated millions and 
 the clang of breaking fetters sounding across 
 the waters from half the nations of Europe, 
 and placing his strong shoulders against the 
 falling Ark of the American Baal, making 
 himself the champion of the vilest oppression on 
 which the sun looks, — he imposed upon the 
 friends of the slave the stern duty of denouncing 
 him as unfit to be the recipient of public favor ; 
 and of declaring that the man who — in the 
 land of the Declaration of Independence, in this 
 
216 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Nineteenth Century, with the light of the gospel 
 and the free principles of the Revolution blaz- 
 ing around him, with the voice of the Almighty 
 speaking in the great events of the age and 
 proclaiming that the power of human despotism 
 is to pass away forever, and that a new era of 
 light, liberty, and Christian love is about to 
 dawn upon the world, — with the successful ex- 
 periments of emancipation in the West Indies 
 before him — has deliberately and unreservedly 
 taken his stand on the side of Slavery, over- 
 come the scruples of his younger and better 
 days, crucified his humanity, and renounced his 
 allegiance to republicanism and Christianity, — 
 is unworthy of the suffrages of a people pro- 
 fessedly governed by the principles of Him who 
 came to preach deliverance to the captive, and 
 the opening of the prison to them that are 
 bound. This duty, which he himself imposed 
 on us, we have fearlessly and faithfully per- 
 formed — in common with many others of his 
 early admirers and friends — men who have 
 watched, with a Chaldean's love, the star of his 
 greatness, while it rose apparently to a glorious 
 culmination. Lustreless and waning in its 
 unblessed conjunction with the malignant in- 
 fluences of slavery, we have been compelled to 
 turn from it ourselves, and warn others to do 
 likewise." 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 217 
 
 Similarly, he took charge, in 1845, of the 
 Amesbury " Village Transcript," which changed 
 its name to the " Essex Transcript " and became 
 the organ of the third party in that district. No 
 file of it can now be found, but Mr. Stephen 
 Lamson, a compositor, has left the following 
 interesting reminiscences of Whittier's relations 
 to the paper at that period : — 
 
 " He did not pretend, or wish it understood, 
 that he was editor of the paper ; but he was its 
 godfather, and undertook to see that it went the 
 way it should go. He did not sign his editorials. 
 Often sickness or absence would prevent his 
 coming into the office for some time, and Mr. 
 Abner L. Bagley and Rev. Mr. Strickland would 
 take his place. This continued about four years, 
 when the proprietor, Mr. J. M. Pettengill, sold 
 out, and the paper became the village organ 
 again. . . . Mr. Whittier was then a man of 
 thirty-seven, tall, straight, and spare, with sharp, 
 good features, handsome face, black eyes, with a 
 long-shaped head, and a towering intellectual 
 forehead. He wore a Quaker medium hat, as 
 well as coat, and used his ' thees ' and ' thous ' in 
 conversation. He was not a fluent talker, never 
 put on superior airs, but assumed the common- 
 place in his intercourse with neighbors, friends, 
 and the villagers generally. I remember one or 
 two stores, kept by good friends of his, — one a 
 
218 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Baptist deacon, the other a Friend, — where he 
 used to visit when going to the post office ; and 
 it was his wont to sit on boxes and barrels, as 
 we have seen them crowd together in a small 
 village grocery store, and do his visiting, and 
 learn the news of the day, or talk over political 
 matters, — for in these two friends he found 
 congenial spirits. This was one of his ways of 
 taking recreation. In my three years' acquaint- 
 ance with him, and observation of him in his 
 daily visits to our office to read the papers, I 
 noticed that if something of great importance 
 attracted his attention, he would nervously grasp 
 a pen, and thoughts that scintillated from his 
 brain would rush across the paper before him at 
 a rapid rate, in a clear, smooth, running hand 
 that would surprise me. When the written 
 pages went into the copy drawer, it would be 
 found in a beautiful flowing hand, with seldom 
 an emendation or any interlining, he held his 
 ideas in such perfect form and control. I used 
 to call it a ' lightning hand,' so rapidly did the 
 pen fly over the paper. His sister used to have 
 a literary circle to improve her young friends in 
 various ways. My father's adopted daughter 
 was a member of it, and was delighted to think 
 she was worthy to belong to Miss Whittier's 
 circle. Mr. Whittier used to lend sanction and 
 help to these friends of his sister, and became 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 219 
 
 acquainted with each one. He used always, 
 when I saw him, to have something to say about 
 this sister and about my father, and I was 
 grateful for it." 
 
 Whittier's anonymous prose in these little 
 anti-slavery journals may be compared with the 
 yeoman work he did in district politics. It was 
 transient and local in its aim and in its effects, 
 but it was sane, shrewd, vigorous, noble writing, 
 and Whittier would not have been himself had 
 he not done it. His message to the people of 
 the North at large, on the other hand, was given 
 not in prose but in verse. 
 
 The political poems of this period are not 
 many. Perhaps fifty, printed wherever the oc- 
 casion demanded, have been preserved in later 
 editions of his works, and there seems to be 
 scarcely a dozen that were not republished. But 
 though their bulk was slight, their importance 
 was great. He was not a poet of his party but 
 the poet. He knew the hearts of the people so 
 well, his thought and his emotions were so repre- 
 sentative of all the country-living Northerners, 
 of all those whose ideas of national economics 
 were not blinded by commerce or convention, 
 that an increasing multitude found in him their 
 spokesman. The mass of these poems now seem 
 obscure or trivial. He lamented reformers who 
 had died in their harness ; he satirized his oppo- 
 
220 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 nents ; he commented freely on whatever current 
 events needed the rapid and incisive treatment 
 that his verse could give. All these, it would 
 appear, must ultimately perish or be read for 
 their antiquarian interest alone, even such su- 
 perb verses as those sung by the army of Kansas 
 emigrants : — 
 
 " We cross the prairie as of old 
 The Pilgrims crossed the sea, 
 To make the West as they the East, 
 The homestead of the free ! " 
 
 Only two still ring out now after more than half 
 a century as resonantly as they sounded then, — 
 " Ichabod " and " Massachusetts to Virginia." 
 
 Of " Ichabod " it would be improper to speak 
 without quoting what Whittier himself said as 
 to its origin : — 
 
 " This poem was the outcome of the surprise 
 and grief and forecast of evil consequences which 
 I felt on reading the seventh of March speech of 
 Daniel Webster in support of the * compromise ' 
 and the Fugitive Slave Law. No partisan or 
 personal enmity dictated it. On the contrary, 
 my admiration of the splendid personality and 
 intellectual power of the great Senator was never 
 stronger than when I laid down his speech, and, 
 in one of the saddest moments of my life, penned 
 my protest. I saw, as I wrote, with painful 
 clearness, its sure results, — the Slave Power 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 221 
 
 arrogant and defiant, strengthened and encour- 
 aged to carry out its scheme for the extension 
 of its baleful system, or the dissolution of the 
 Union, the guaranties of personal liberty in the 
 free States broken down, and the whole country 
 made the hunting-ground of slave-catchers. In 
 the horror of such a vision, so soon fearfully ful- 
 filled, if one spoke at all, he could only speak in 
 tones of stern and sorrowful rebuke. 
 
 " But death softens all resentments, and the 
 consciousness of a common inheritance of frailty 
 and weakness modifies the severity of judgment. 
 Years after, in ' The Lost Occasion,' I gave ut- 
 terance to an almost universal regret that the 
 great statesman did not live to see the flag which 
 he loved trampled under the feet of Slavery, and, 
 in view of this desecration, make his last days 
 glorious in defence of ' Liberty and Union, one 
 and inseparable.' " "^ 
 
 Those whom Whittier knew best in later life 
 relate that he came eventually to feel that Web- 
 ster was perhaps right and he wrong ; that 
 compromise meant weary years of waiting, but 
 that the further and consistent pursuit of such 
 
 1 Prefatory note in the Cambridge Edition. The title may 
 have been suggested by Lowell's sentence in the National 
 Anti-Slavert/ Standard, July 2, 1846 : " Shall not the Record- 
 ing Angel write Ichabod after the name of this man in the 
 great book of Doom ? " 
 
222 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 a policy might have successfully avoided the 
 evils of war and of reconstruction. However 
 that may be, the verses are, in their awful scorn, 
 the most powerful that he ever wrote. Right 
 or wrong, he spoke for a great part of the 
 North and West, nay, for the world. For the 
 poem, in much the same fashion as Browning's 
 " Lost Leader," is becoming disassociated with 
 any special name, and may thus remain a most 
 remarkable expression — the most terrible in 
 our literature — of the aversion which any mass 
 of people may feel, especially in a democracy, 
 for the once-worshipped leader whose acts and 
 words, in matters of the greatest public weal, 
 seem to retrograde. 
 
 " Massachusetts to Virginia " is, in a corre- 
 sponding fashion, the one most likely to survive 
 of a group of half a dozen poems, written in the 
 forties, in connection with the fugitive slave 
 cases or the annexation of Texas. They are in 
 essence battle-songs, rallying-cries for the rous- 
 ing of the people. Like "lehabod," "Massa- 
 chusetts to Virginia " is a perfect expression of 
 sectional feeling ; the summing up, in impas- 
 sioned verse, of one side of a great controversy ; 
 the complete brief for the North; the rhetori- 
 cally logical statement of a feeling that itself 
 went counter to logic and to law. If the law 
 was to be obeyed, if the constitutional contract 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 223 
 
 was not to be set aside, then property — even 
 were it property in men — must be respected in 
 one State as in another. But in the North aboli- 
 tionists and compromisers alike had formulated 
 a higher law and were determined to ignore all 
 obligations based on slavery : — 
 
 " AH that a sister State should do, all that a free State may, 
 Heart, hand, and purse we proffer, as in our early day ; 
 But that one dark loathsome burden ye must stagger with 
 
 alone, 
 And reap the bitter harvest which ye yourselves have sown ! " 
 
 Even now it would be impossible for the 
 Southerner to find beauty in a presentation of 
 the subject so extravagant in its details, so bit- 
 ter in its opposition ; but may not the poem sur- 
 vive, both for the swinging force of its lines and 
 as a brilliant example of sectional indignation, 
 when the occasion that prompted it is forgot- 
 ten? 
 
 To Whittier, Massachusetts and Virginia were 
 not names or abstractions or personifications. 
 His firm connection with life, his preoccupation 
 with people and places, forced him to visualize 
 where others would have generalized. The men 
 of Virginia were indignantly threatening. The 
 men of Massachusetts were indignantly defiant. 
 He saw both groups as individuals and made 
 one shout to the other. His poem was no aca- 
 demic figure of speech ; it was, as it were, a com- 
 
224 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 posite photograph of actuality, and may, there- 
 fore, live as a type of all cases in which one 
 sister community resolutely defies another. 
 
 The final charm lies in the details of Whit- 
 tier's visualization of Massachusetts. He was 
 never fond of pure literature. The books he 
 eared most for were books of travel. He loved 
 people and towns, he thought of the world as a 
 great picture, and of New England and espe- 
 cially of his own State as a chain of common- 
 wealths within commonwealths, each with its 
 own surroundings and characteristics. It is the 
 picture of these communes that may give per- 
 manence to the poem : — 
 
 " A hundred thousand right arms were lifted up on high, 
 A hundred thousand voices sent hack their loud reply ; 
 Through the thronged towns of Essex the startling summons 
 
 rang, 
 And up from hench and loom and wheel her young mechan- 
 ics sprang ! 
 
 " The voice of free, hroad Middlesex, — of thousands as of 
 
 one, — 
 The shaft of Bunker calling to that of Lexington ; 
 From Norfolk's ancient villages, from Plymouth's rocky 
 
 bound 
 To where Nantucket feels the arms of ocean close her 
 
 round ; 
 
 "From rich and rural Worcester, where through the calm 
 repose 
 Of cultured vales and fringing woods the gentle Nashua 
 flows, 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 225 
 
 To where Wachuaet's wintry blasts the mountain larches 
 stir, 
 
 Swelled up to Heaven the thrilling cry of ' God save Lati- 
 mer! ' 
 
 '■ And sandy Barnstable rose up, wet with the salt sea spray, — 
 And Bristol sent her answering shout down Narragansett 
 
 Bay! 
 Along the broad Connecticut old Hampden felt the thrill. 
 And the cheer from Hampshire's woodmen swept down from 
 
 Holyoke HUl." 
 
 Whittier's position in these poems can only 
 be realized when we remember that of the 
 younger school of New England men of letters 
 he was virtually the only one who had given him- 
 self up to the cause of abolition. Longfellow 
 wrote his gentle and picturesque " Poems on 
 Slavery " in a few days in 1842, in the confine- 
 ment of a sea voyage, moved thereto by a chap- 
 ter in Dickens's " American Notes." Bryant 
 held anti-slavery opinions, but he kept aloof from 
 the ardent reformers, and certainly did not over- 
 whelm his muse with humanitarian politics. 
 Holmes was occupied with his profession. Haw- 
 thorne was living an intense and solitary inner 
 life, undisturbed by the tumult of the world. 
 Emerson early sympathized with the anti-slavery 
 movement in essence, but his interest was long 
 somewhat coldly philosophic. As he himself 
 said, he liked best " the strong and worthy per- 
 sons who support the social order without hesi- 
 
226 JOHN OREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 tation or misgiving. I like these ; they never 
 incommode us by exciting grief, pity, or pertur- 
 bation of any sort. But the professed philan- 
 thropists, it is strange and horrible to say, are 
 an altogether odious set of people, whom one 
 ■would shun as the worst of bores and canters. " ^ 
 Like a philosopher, too, he saw below the sur- 
 face of the agitation, and, realizing that mere 
 emancipation was not all that was necessary to 
 set matters right, he would have trusted much 
 to time and to progress in civilization. It was 
 not until the time of the fugitive slave agitations 
 that he woke from his trance and took an active 
 interest in anti-slavery politics, in some respects 
 becoming quite naturally an extremist, as was 
 shown by his attitude towards John Brown. 
 
 Lowell, drawn into the reform movement by 
 his high-minded young wife, had for some time 
 close relations with the abolitionists. In his 
 class-poem of 1838 he had satirized them, — and 
 Carlyle and Emerson into the bargain, — but 
 in 1843 he wrote of Whittier in the " Pioneer " 
 as " the fiery Koerner of his spiritual warfare, 
 who, Scaevola-like, has sacrificed on the altar 
 of duty that right hand which might have made 
 him acknowledged as the most passionate lyrist 
 of his time." In 1845 he was at Philadelphia, 
 
 ^ J. E. Cabot, A Memoir of Ralph Waldo Emerson (1888), ii. 
 426. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 227 
 
 writing editorials for Whittier's old paper, 
 the " Pennsylvania Freeman;" and in 1848-49 
 he was corresponding editor of the "National 
 Anti-Slavery Standard." In 1844 and 1845 he 
 wrote his spirited " Kallying Cry for New Eng- 
 land " and " Another Rallying Cry by a Yan- 
 kee," both in emulation of Whittier, and in 1846 
 he began his " Biglow Papers." Lowell as a 
 reformer was undoubtedly sincere ; but he was 
 young, with high thoughts and a mind undisci- 
 plined by study or experience. His reform pe- 
 riod was a transient phase of his life, and his 
 interest in abolition was neither so narrow nor 
 so intense as that of Whittier. He was devoted 
 rather to the general cause of humanitarianism 
 than to abolition, and, as his instincts for pure 
 letters grew stronger, he followed his bent. It 
 is interesting, however, to contrast his " Biglow 
 Papers " with Whittier's political poems. Whit- 
 tier, the barefooted farmer's lad who milked 
 cows and hoed potatoes, who until he grew up 
 had lived on a lonely farm, Whittier the " peas- 
 ant " used the language he had always heard 
 and spoken, a pure English speech, with few 
 dialectic peculiarities. Lowell, brought up in the 
 outskirts of the city and in the company of 
 scholars and " gentlemen," built up for himself 
 a literary rustic dialect which no countryman, 
 if he used it at all, would have used when deal- 
 
228 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 ing with matters of importance. Whittier, a 
 rustic himself and writing for rustics in the 
 usual literary forms, was read widely by them, 
 and became a power throughout the North. 
 Lowell, by adopting the artificial rustic form, cut 
 himself off very largely from a rustic audience 
 and influenced only city or literary folk. But, 
 strange paradox again, Whittier's literary verses, 
 though more effective, were less lasting, and 
 Lowell's rustic verses have passed into literature. 
 
 In 1835 Whittier was thought of as a pro- 
 mising young lyricist of the Byronic type, who 
 was beginning to be interested in reform ; but 
 such had been his ardor that by 1850 he was 
 generally thought of only as an exuberant aboli- 
 tionist versifier : — 
 
 " Ah, Whittier ! Fighting Friend ! I like thy verse — 
 Thy wholesale blessing and thy wholesale curse ; 
 I prize the spirit which exalts thy strain, 
 And joy when truth impels thy hlows amain ; 
 But, really, friend ! I cannot help suspecting, 
 Though writing 's good, there 's merit in correcting I 
 
 " Whittier, adieu ! my hlows I would not spare. 
 For when I strike, I strike who best can bear ; 
 Oft in this rhyme of mine I lash full hard 
 The man whom much I love, as friend and bard ; 
 Even as the leech, inspired by science pure, 
 Albeit he probe and cauterize — must cure ! " ^ 
 
 ^ Parnassus in Pillory. A Satire. By Motley Manners, Esq. 
 New York, 1851. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 229 
 
 Even Lowell, while recognizing Whittier's patri- 
 otism in cutting himself completely away from 
 the natural line of his development, implied that 
 the process was complete. In a laudatory review 
 of his collected poems in the " National Anti- 
 Slavery Standard " for December 21, 1848, 
 Lowell is inclined to ignore Whittier's poems on 
 other subjects than reform, praising him for the 
 essentially Yankee flavor of his verse, but depre- 
 cating his attempt to treat local themes — what 
 is the red man to us who are citizens of the 
 world ? — a criticism characteristic of the Cam- 
 bridge school of thought, whose aim was rather to 
 Europeanize America than to aid it in its search 
 for individual expression. And again, in the 
 " Fable for Critics," written in the same year, he 
 puts entirely aside the non-humanitarian poems, 
 and dwells alone on Whittier's zeal as a reformer. 
 
 " Our Quaker leads off metaphorical fights 
 For reform and whatever they call human rights, 
 Both singing and striking in front of the war, 
 And hitting his foes with the mallet of Thor ; 
 Anne haec, one exclaims, on beholding his knocks, 
 Vestis Jilii tut, leather-clad Fox ? 
 Can that be thy son, in the battle's mad din. 
 Preaching brotherly love and then driving it in 
 To the brain of the tough old Goliah of sin, 
 With the smoothest of pebbles from Castaly's spring 
 Impressed on his hard moral sense with a sling ? " 
 
 With our present ideas about the comparative 
 impermanency of Whittier's abolitionist poetry 
 
230 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 and the greater lasting power of certain other 
 parts of his work, it is hard to see how the 
 general public could have so concentrated its 
 attention on a single element in his verse, pro- 
 minent though it was, to the exclusion of all 
 else. And yet a glance at the published vol- 
 umes of the period we are considering will con- 
 firm the contemporary judgment. " Lays of 
 my Home " (1843) revealed other elements 
 only in embryo ; and " Voices of Freedom " 
 (1846), "Poems" (1849), "Songs of Labor" 
 (I860), " The Chapel of the Hermits " (1853), 
 "The Panorama" (1856), though containing 
 these elements in a more advanced form, did not 
 reveal them in their full power. 
 
 We must, however, now stop to trace the 
 growth of these half -concealed lines of develop- 
 ment, which were to approach maturity in the 
 fifties and in a later period were to give him 
 fame of a new sort. 
 
 It is clear at the outset that Whittier's inter- 
 est in reform extended beyond the limits of the 
 abolitionist cause. His heart pleaded for the 
 cause of the oppressed abroad as well as at 
 home. His voice cheered on whoever fought for 
 intellectual or industrial liberty, and rebuked 
 those who wilfully ground their brethren be- 
 neath their feet. His ideal was the old ideal of 
 the Puritans — purified and enlarged : — 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 231 
 
 " The riches of the Commonwealth 
 Are free, strong minds, and hearts of health ; 
 And more to her than gold or grain, 
 The cunning hand and cultured brain. 
 
 " For well she keeps her ancient stock, 
 The stubborn strength of Pilgrim Rock ; 
 And still maintains, with milder laws, 
 And clearer light, the Good Old Cause." ^ 
 
 As a Quaker Puritan should be, he was, though 
 tolerant in religious matters, a foe to the Roman 
 Catholic Church of the time on its social side. 
 
 * 
 
 He praised the German liberal Johannes Ronge 
 (" Strike home, strong-hearted man "), and de- 
 nounced Pius the Ninth : — 
 
 " Yet, Scandal of the World ! from thee 
 One needful truth mankind shall learn : 
 That kings and priests to Liberty 
 And God are false in turn." 
 
 His natural fluency in verse, increased by years 
 of practice, and now controlled by the insight 
 acquired in years of active political experience, 
 made these poems of invective, if so they may 
 be styled, particularly powerful. They have the 
 orator's ringing tone, the politician's sense of 
 the essentially weak points in the adversary's 
 armor, the poet's skill of phrase, and his art in 
 stimulating the emotions. He had read widely, 
 and was quick to modify his native style by 
 
 1 Our State. 
 
232 JOHN GREENLEAF WHJTTIER 
 
 adopting something of the tone of others, as is 
 shown by the plain touch of Browning in his 
 splendid " From Perugia : " — 
 
 *' Off with hats, down with knees, shont yonr vivas like mad ! 
 Here 'a the Pope in his holiday righteousness clad. 
 From shorn crown to toe-nail, kiss-worn to the quick, 
 Of sainthood in purple the pattern and pick, 
 Who the rSle of the priest and the soldier unites, 
 And, praying like Aaron, like Joshua fights." 
 
 In the second place, he was now so far re- 
 moved from his old Byronic period, so purged of 
 his immature pessimism and rebellion against 
 the will of God, so changed from his boyish 
 vanity and self-seeking, that the world took on 
 a new meaning to him. Its outward vesture he 
 was never skilled in portraying : his " nature " 
 poems leave the senses unstirred. But he knew 
 the hearts of earnest men, their despondencies, 
 their aspirations; and advancing age and his 
 Quaker faith, now strong within him, were lead- 
 ing him to give to the quietism, to the renunciar 
 tion to which the eager soul' must finally attain, 
 an expression which they had not had before in 
 America. In this period neither the idea nor 
 the expression was yet perfect, but one feels the 
 power of both : — 
 
 " Know well, my soul, God's hand controls 
 Whate'er thou fearest ; 
 Bound Him in calmest music rolls 
 Whate'er thou hearest. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 233 
 
 " What to thee is shadow, to Him is day, 
 And the end He knoweth, 
 And not on a blind and aimless way 
 The spirit goeth." ^ 
 
 It was not Calvinism that he thus sang, nor any 
 creed of any church, but the old mystery of the 
 Holy Spirit, inherent in many a religion and 
 perhaps to be confirmed by modern psychology 
 as the essence of religious life, — that strange 
 turning inward of the mind, beyond the limits 
 of the merely cognitive faculties, to that sub- 
 stratum of the spirit where the world and the 
 individual are most at one : — 
 
 " I turn from Fancy's cloud-bnilt scheme, 
 Dark creed, and mournful eastern dream 
 Of power, impersonal and cold. 
 Controlling all, itself controlled. 
 Maker and slave of iron laws. 
 Alike the subject and the cause ; 
 From vain philosophies, that try 
 The sevenfold gates of mystery. 
 And, baffled ever, babble still. 
 Word-prodigal of fate and will ; 
 From Nature, and her mockery. Art, 
 And book and speech of men apart." ^ 
 
 This beneficent process of mental and spirit- 
 ual adjustment to the world — parallel to the 
 marvellous physiological process by which the 
 conservative forces replace diseased tissue and 
 conquer toxic influences — was also the cause of 
 the heightened tenderness that is observable in 
 1 My Sold and I. ^ Questions of Life. 
 
234 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 the class of verses which he himself classed as 
 " subjective and reminiscent." Keen and far- 
 sighted as he was in practical affairs, his tem- 
 perament was deeply emotional ; a man of 
 moods, unmarried, without intimate friendships, 
 isolated, ill, without the supporting staff of a 
 business or professional routine, his thoughts 
 (and too often his poems) turned upon himself. 
 In the intervals of his preoccupation with poli- 
 tics, he fell into introspection : — 
 
 " Life's mystery wrapt him like a cloud ; 
 He heard far voices mock his own, 
 The sweep of wings unseen, the loud, 
 Long roll of waves unknown." ^ 
 
 And introspection brought first that sense of 
 disappointment and almost of bereavement that 
 sounds now and then through his verse, — " the 
 bitter longings of a vain regret," — and then the 
 tender idealization of the early years in which 
 his hopes were still unbroken. As a bachelor, 
 he naturally found his fancies straying back to 
 the might-have-beens of his youth, to his boyish 
 affections for country lassies, of whom we may 
 guess there were two, one a more constant com- 
 panion, recalled in "Memories" and "Bene- 
 dicite," and one less familiarly known, but more 
 beloved, whose miniature and whose memory he 
 always cherished. The latter, as age advanced, 
 
 1 My Namesake. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 235 
 
 apparently became for him more of a Beatrice, 
 but his mood was now to dream of the old child- 
 hood days with the former : — 
 
 " Pair Nature's book together read, 
 The old wood-paths that knew our tread, 
 The maple shadows overhead, — 
 
 " The hills we climbed, the river seen 
 By gleams along its deep ravine, — 
 All keep thy memory fresh and green. . . . 
 
 " God's love and peace be with thee, where 
 Soe'er this soft autumnal air 
 Lifts the dark tresses of thy hair 1 " ^ 
 
 The mood of reminiscence went further still, 
 revisualizing, typifying, idealizing the whole field 
 of old childish memories, — the barefoot days, 
 the district-school days, — all full of sunshine 
 and joy, but all with the touch of pathos that 
 comes from the contrast between the might-have- 
 heen and the is. The public, itself grown out 
 of the old simple life, was in the mood to in- 
 dulge in such recollections. It first tasted that 
 pleasure in "To My Old Schoolmaster" (1851), 
 and more especially in " The Barefoot Boy " 
 (1855), which was less local in its interests, and 
 which furnished the type a few years later for 
 Whittier's most famous piece of verse. 
 
 A still further development of importance in 
 
 1 Benedicite. 
 
236 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 this period was his growing skill in narrative 
 verse. In the 1848 review Lowell had spoken 
 slightingly of Whittier's Indian subjects, and 
 with reason. After many experiments Whittier 
 was compelled to give them up ; he never caught 
 the Indian mood, the primitive outlook. But 
 their place was filled not with European legends, 
 as was mainly the case with others, but with 
 those of colonial days — the magnolia of the 
 Puritan settlers, whose outlook he understood 
 better than any other poet. He read much in 
 old books and old records, and, pondering much 
 on these things, began to recast fragments of the 
 antique narratives, to enlarge and embellish the 
 familiar incidents. Sometimes he merely pol- 
 ished and reset a quaint gem, as in " The Pro- 
 phecy of Samuel Sewall," or commented wittily 
 on a superstition, as in " The Double-Headed 
 Snake of Newbury," or retold a fact or a legend 
 that had a point of piety, as in " The Exiles," 
 " Cassandra South wick," " The Garrison of Cape 
 Ann," and " The Swan Song of Parson Avery ; " 
 or took a poet's liberty in inventing supposedly 
 typical incidents, as in* " Mary Garvin " and 
 "Mabel Martin." He wrote less than a score of 
 these narrative poems in a period covering as 
 many years, but they are all excellent and grow 
 better with time, for they were based on know- 
 ledge and sympathy, and though perhaps quickly 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 237 
 
 written, embody material long assimilated and 
 individualized. 
 
 Three poems belonging to this general group, 
 " Skipper Ireson's Eide," " The Telling of the 
 Bees," and " Maud Muller," are indeed among 
 his very best, and represent the highest degree 
 of skill in localized narrative that has yet been 
 attained in American poetry. These are less 
 antique in subject, and two of them have no 
 basis in fact. After his long studies in draw- 
 ing, as it were, from historical figures, Whittier 
 was prepared to compose for himself a typical 
 incident, instead of cuUing it from the records 
 of the past. " Skipper Ireson's Ride " was built 
 around the burden of a half-remembered old 
 Marblehead ballad, and though false to the facts 
 of the actual incident, is ideally true to the life 
 of that rough and strange old town, in Whittier's 
 days, and almost to our own, as isolated, as in- 
 dividual, as picturesque in speech and custom 
 and outward air as a remote fishing village of 
 the English or Brittany coast. It is a real 
 ballad, strong of the soil, born of familiar ac- 
 quaintance, not, like Longfellow's " Wreck of 
 the Hesperus," so imperfectly localized that the 
 author had only the vaguest notion where lay his 
 reef of Norman's Woe ; and yet we must not 
 forget that the verses were originally written 
 without the dialectic refrain, and that it is to 
 
238 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Lowell's good sense that we owe the change. 
 In " Telling the Bees " Whittier comes nearest 
 to the art of Tennyson or Browning, and it is 
 plain that in writing it he had the latter's work 
 in mind ; the matter is slight, the development 
 in lyric rather than in narrative form, the 
 method restrained, the effect delicate. Its un- 
 usual tone and manner make it less typical of 
 Whittier, and it is not so well known as many 
 poems less good. I mention it here, however, to 
 call attention both to the element of imitation in 
 his verse and to his skill in the handling of an 
 unfamiliar form. But the greatest favorite of 
 all was "Maud Muller," probably his most effec- 
 tive piece of purely narrative poetry, for it went 
 at once to the hearts of the people, and, almost 
 in spite of the critics, has retained its place 
 there. It is very simple verse, so unpretentious 
 in form that it is now thought almost common- 
 place, so unsophisticated, so rural in its philoso- 
 phy that it is often actually despised. And yet 
 nothing could ring truer, or lie closer to the 
 heart of the communities of the old Northern 
 democracy, than Whittier's doctrine here and 
 elsewhere that instinctive love is the natural 
 guide, worth the real test, social " position " a 
 negligible quantity. It is obvious that a part of 
 the effect of the poem is due to the fact that 
 simple-hearted folks feel this doctrine to be true. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 239 
 
 and hence recognize the pathos of Whittier's 
 illustrative incident. But the real cause lies 
 deeper still. It is the " might have been " that 
 is the familiar quotation. What has impressed 
 the people at large so tremendously must be, 
 not the fact of convention directing affection, 
 not the must-not-he or the could-not-have-been, 
 but the might-have-been, and that not merely in 
 matters of love but in all ultimate and essential 
 aims of human ambition. Theoretically, we are 
 happily placed in a land where social rank 
 scarcely exists and opportunity lies open to all. 
 No hard barrier of convention keeps us from 
 success. No rule governs, no custom prescribes, 
 only chance controls — and guides blindly. In 
 a complete democracy, more than elsewhere, the 
 may-be is the great joy of youth, and the might- 
 have-been the subtle regret of age. 
 
 All the while Whittier was writing prose, 
 clear, solid, and instructive prose, of the sort 
 that added to his reputation with the public and 
 increased his own power as a man, a thinker, 
 and a poet. We often forget the sound basis of 
 information on which a poet's skill must rest 
 until our attention is in some way called to the 
 breadth of his reading or to the extent of his 
 experience. To read Whittier's prose is to see 
 this sub-structure of his verse. 
 
240 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Of his work as a political journalist we have 
 already spoken. Besides this he contributed 
 general articles and critical reviews to his own 
 and to other papers, and it was matter of this 
 kind which he furnished to the "National Era" 
 from 1847 to 1860, sometimes to the extent of 
 five or six columns a week. Some of these ar- 
 ticles he collected-' from time to time in little 
 books: "The Stranger in Lowell" (1845), 
 " The Supernaturalism of New England" (1847), 
 "Leaves from Margaret Smith's Journal" 
 (1849), " Old Portraits and Modern Sketches " 
 (1850), and "Literary Recreations and Mis- 
 cellanies "(1854). 
 
 The sketches that compose " The Stranger 
 in Lowell " were published in the " Middlesex 
 Standard " during his brief period of editorship, 
 
 ^ Among the many minor articles which have not been re- 
 printed I find two passages of interest : — 
 
 " Our poetry is cold — abstract — imitative — the labor of 
 overtasked and jaded intellects, rather than the spontaneous 
 outgushing of hearts warm with love, and strongly sympathiz- 
 ing with human nature as it actually exists about us — with 
 the joys and griefs, the good and even the ill of our common 
 humanity." (September 9, 1847.) 
 
 " He [Lowell] is yet a young man, and, in view of what he has 
 already attained, we have a right to expect a good deal of his 
 future. May he have strength and long life to do for free- 
 dom and humanity, and for the true and permanent glory of 
 American literature, all that others less gifted and subject to 
 less favorable circumstances have strived in vain to accom- 
 pUsh." (January 17, 1850.) 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS- 241 
 
 and most of them have been included in his col- 
 lected works. His preface explains their origin : 
 " Occupying, during a brief sojourn in Lowell 
 the past autumn, a position which necessarily- 
 brought him into somewhat harsh collision with 
 both of the great political parties on the eve of 
 an exciting election, he [the author] deemed it 
 at once a duty and a privilege to keep his heart 
 open to the kindliest influences of nature and 
 society. These pages are a transcript — too free 
 and frank perhaps — of impressions made upon 
 his mind by the common incidents of daily life." 
 Written, as he confesses, " without plan or co- 
 herence, penned in the intervals of severer and 
 more earnest labors, often under circumstances 
 of bodily illness and suffering," these sketches 
 are not a guide to the town or a sociological 
 treatise on it. But they reveal in a charming 
 way the characteristics of a New England man- 
 ufacturing city in its early days, when the work- 
 ing people there were largely of native origin, 
 when this novel mechanical toil was a great boon 
 to women of little or no means, when laborers 
 had strength and ambition to cultivate their 
 minds, and when such a community had still 
 in it an almost Utopian freshness and vigor. 
 Whittier praised the women and the not ex- 
 hausting labor, was delighted at the pictur- 
 esque influx of other nationalities, and noted 
 
242 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 significantly that here " work is the patron saint. 
 Everything bears his image and superscription. 
 Here is no place for that respectable clkss of 
 citizens called gentlemen, and for their much 
 vilified brethren familiarly known as loafers." 
 It is from this testimony and from the corre- 
 sponding evidence in Lucy Larcom's "A New 
 England Girlhood " that we can reconstruct the 
 days when the old New England virtues were 
 holding their own in the as yet unrealized strug- 
 gle with the ills of industrial centralization. 
 
 " The Supernaturalism of New England " is 
 likewise of value to the student of the old New 
 England life. It attempted to embrace, so far 
 as the author's reading and experience permitted 
 him, " the present superstitions and still current 
 traditions of New England, in the hope that . . . 
 it may hereafter furnish material for the essay- 
 ist and the poet who shall one day do for our 
 own native land what Scott and Hogg and 
 Burns and Wilson have done for theirs." He 
 includes all incidents which would nowadays be 
 investigated by a psychical research society, and 
 intimates that the whole subject is worth further 
 study ; and though it is plain that he holds his 
 judgment in reserve, he finds, beneath " the 
 exaggeration and distortion of actual fact, a 
 great truth : " " it is Nature herself repelling 
 the slanders of the materialist, and vindicating 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 243 
 
 her claim to an informing and all-directing 
 Spirit." As an example of bis pleasant prose 
 style, and as an illustration of the influences 
 that surrounded him as a child, I may be al- 
 lowed to quote the following incident : — 
 
 " Whoever has seen Great Pond, in the East 
 parish of Haverhill, has seen one of the very 
 loveliest of the thousand little lakes or ponds 
 of New England. With its soft slopes of green- 
 est verdure, its white and sparkling sand-rim, 
 its southern hem of pine and maple, mirrored, 
 with spray and leaf, in the glassy water, its 
 graceful hill-sentinels round about, white with 
 the orchard-bloom of spring, or tasselled with 
 the corn of autumn, its long sweep of blue 
 waters, broken here and there by picturesque 
 headlands, it would seem a spot of all others 
 where spirits of evil must shrink, rebuked and 
 abashed, from the presence of the Beautiful. 
 Yet here, too, has the shadow of the super- 
 natural fallen. A lady of my acquaintance, a 
 staid, unimaginative church-member, states that 
 a few years ago she was standing in the angle 
 formed by the two roads, one of which traverses 
 the pond shore, the other leading over the hill 
 which rises abruptly from the water. It was a 
 warm summer evening, just at sunset. She was 
 startled by the appearance of a horse and cart 
 of the kind used a century ago in New England, 
 
244 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 driving rapidly down the steep hillside, and 
 crossing the wall a few yards before her, without 
 noise, or the displacing of a stone. The driver sat 
 sternly erect, with a fierce countenance, grasping 
 the reins tightly, and looking neither to the 
 right nor the left. Behind the cart, and appar- 
 ently lashed to it, was a woman of gigantic size, 
 her countenance convulsed with a blended ex- 
 pression of rage and agony, writhing and strug- 
 gling, like Laocoon in the folds of the serpent. 
 Her head, neck, feet, and arms were naked ; 
 wild locks of gray hair streamed back from 
 temples corrugated and darkened. The horrible 
 cavalcade swept by across the street, and disap- 
 peared at the margin of the pond." 
 
 " Leaves from Margaret Smith's Journal in 
 the Province of Massachusetts Bay " is, like the 
 two preceding volumes, a study of New England 
 conditions ; but this, more than the others, over- 
 whelms us with the minuteness of its antiquarian 
 lore and with its philosophic and scholarly grasp 
 of the subject. Whittier knew the life of the 
 Commonwealth as Scott knew that of the Border ; 
 and at a time when most students of New Eng- 
 land history were mere apologists for the queer 
 old theocracy, he was both acute enough to see 
 through the sham and wise enough not to be 
 blinded by the prejudice of reaction. His iso- 
 lation and his Quakerhood both helped him. He 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 245 
 
 was unaffected by the modern impulse to glorify 
 the period of origin ; he saw the Massachusetts 
 of the seventeenth century as his pioneer ances- 
 tor might have seen it, or that ancestor's old 
 neighbor, Robert Pike, and not as Cotton 
 Mather or Ward of Agawam saw it. The plot is 
 slight. Margaret Smith, fresh from England, 
 and related to important folk among the settlers, 
 meets the chief people in the Massachusetts Bay 
 Colony, journeys to Newbury and further east 
 to Agamenticus, and afterwards to the heretical 
 colony in Rhode Island, seeing everywhere the 
 famous old worthies, — Saltonstalls, Mathers, 
 Sewalls, Eliots, Wards, Pikes, and Wiggles- 
 worths. She describes the bright landscape and 
 the strenuous pioneer life with almost as much 
 vividness as Defoe might have done ; she sees thie 
 arrogant priesthood smelling out witchcraft and 
 hunting down heresy ; the pathetic dispossessed 
 Indian ; the simple-minded Quakers, goaded into 
 an hysterical fanaticism ; the earnest colonists, 
 also simple-hearted, and at bottom, we may sur- 
 mise, not too religious, though priest-ridden, and 
 keeping alive their ancestral love of fair play, 
 of order and frugality, of freedom and tolera- 
 tion, of plain common sense mingled with energy 
 and aspiration — virtues that, as the power of 
 the hierarchy was slowly broken, were to become 
 the real source of the greatness of New England. 
 
246 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 The book will never be widely read. It is too 
 slight in substance, too sober in style. But no 
 single modern volume could be found which has 
 so penetrated the secret of colonial times in 
 Massachusetts, for it is, almost line by line, a 
 transcript and imaginative interpretation of old 
 letters, journals, and memoirs. There is scarcely 
 a passage in it that is not based on a given 
 document, scarcely a seeming fancy that is not 
 closely paralleled by fact. 
 
 " Old Portraits and Modern Sketches " was a 
 collection of ten little essays which had previ- 
 ously appeared in the " National Era," seven of 
 which deal with such old worthies as Bunyan 
 and Ellwood. The remaining three are on the 
 abolitionists, William Leggett and Nathaniel 
 P. Rogers, both of whom had recently died, and 
 on the Windham farmer and versifier, Robert 
 Dinsmore, — a charming little essay, to which I 
 called attention in connection with Whittier's 
 boyish admiration for Burns. These articles 
 show no special research, but they are far from 
 commonplace, and they deserve to be read more 
 often than they are. Their two striking charac- 
 teristics, revealing Whittier's taste and temper, 
 are an absence of literary allusion and a praise- 
 worthy unwillingness to generalize. Strictly 
 speaking, Whittier did not care much for litera- 
 ture. He loved men and things and books of 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 247 
 
 biography and travel ; lie liked to- know how the 
 world looked and what brave spirits had wrought 
 in it. Toward fiction and fanciful poetry he does 
 not seem, in his maturity, to have been strongly 
 drawn ; and he was constitutionally averse to 
 creating philosophic theories about life or let- 
 ters. These traits, which differentiate him from 
 Lowell and Emerson, give his essays a marked 
 sobriety and actuality of tone, which limit their 
 range and their effectiveness, but which have for 
 the attentive reader a special and individual 
 charm. 
 
 " Literary Recreations and Miscellanies " con- 
 tains much matter from " The Stranger in Low- 
 ell " and from " The Supernaturalism of New 
 England," and about a dozen fresh studies, which 
 had also appeared in the " National Era," on New 
 England antiquities, of which the essay on the 
 " Great Ipswich Fright " is typical. It contains 
 also several articles of literary criticism, which 
 throw fresh light on Whittier's reading and his 
 sound judgment. He was not a learned reader, 
 like Lowell, nor a philosophic reader, like Emer- 
 son, nor indeed a wide reader in pure litera- 
 ture, like Longfellow. But these few essays, as 
 well as his correspondence, the testimony of his 
 friends, and the books on his shelves, show him 
 to have been a man of very considerable infor- 
 mation, and capable of giving sound judgment 
 
248 JOHN GREENLEAF WHIT TIER 
 
 on good literature. He recognized the merits 
 of Macaulay's History without being too much 
 repelled or attracted by its rhetoric. He was 
 pardonably indignant at Carlyle's " Occasional 
 Discourse on the Negro Question," a certain 
 fundamental justness in which he was less able 
 than we are to appreciate, and which he thought 
 took " issue with the moral sense of mankind 
 and the precepts of Christianity." He recog- 
 nized the value of Bayard Taylor's works. He 
 liked Dr. Holmes's verse (" a merry doctor ! "). 
 He welcomed Longfellow's " Evangeline : " — 
 " Eureka ! Here, then, we have it at last, — an 
 American poem, with the lack of which British 
 reviewers have so long reproached us." In the 
 old-fashioned manner which became him so well, 
 he took, too, the liberty of departing speedily 
 from the book in question, to discourse on the 
 ideas which it suggested. In the case of " Evan- 
 geline," which had been his subject as well as 
 Hawthorne's before Longfellow took it up, he 
 was drawn at once into a consideration of the 
 mingling virtues and vices in the old New Eng- 
 land Puritanism, the closing passage of which is 
 worth quoting here as another admirable illus- 
 tration of his own tolerance of spirit and keen- 
 ness of mental vision : — 
 
 " Of all that is noble and true in the Puritan 
 character we are sincere admirers. The gener- 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 249 
 
 ous and self-denying apostleship of Eliot is, of 
 itself, a beautiful page in their history. The 
 physical daring and hardihood with which, 
 amidst the times of savage warfare, they laid 
 the foundations of mighty states, and subdued 
 the rugged soil, and made the wilderness blos- 
 som ; their steadfast adherence to their religious 
 principles, even when the Restoration had made 
 apostasy easy and profitable ; and the vigilance 
 and firmness with which, under all circumstances, 
 they held fast their chartered liberties and ex- 
 torted new rights and privileges from the reluc- 
 tant home government, — justly entitle them to 
 the grateful remembrance of a generation now 
 reaping the fruits of their toils and sacrifices. 
 But in expressing our gratitude to the founders 
 of New England, we should not forget what is 
 due to truth and justice ; nor, for the sake of 
 vindicating them from the charge of that reli- 
 gious intolerance which, at the time, they shared 
 with nearly all Christendom, undertake to de- 
 fend, in the light of the nineteenth century, 
 opinions and practices hostile to the benignant 
 spirit of the gospel and subversive of the inher- 
 ent rights of man." 
 
 Such was Whittier's product in verse and in 
 prose during the long middle period of his life, 
 — a period less important in its actual results 
 
250 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 than it was potentially, for he was still identified 
 in the public mind with abolitionism, and much 
 of his best work was yet to be done. It was for 
 the most part a period of disappointment, weak- 
 ness, and hardship, and his prevailing mood 
 seems to have been indicated in this letter to 
 " Grace Greenwood : " — 
 
 " 5th mo., 10, 1849. 
 " We have had a dreary spring — a gray haze 
 in the sky — a dim, beam-shorn sun — a wind 
 from the northeast, cold as if sifted through all 
 the ices of frozen Labrador, as terrible almost 
 as that chill wind which the old Moslem fable 
 says will blow over the earth in the last days. 
 The birds hereabout have a sorry time of it, as 
 well as ' humans.' There are now, however, 
 indications of a change for the better. The 
 blossoms of the peach and cherry are just open- 
 ing, and the arbutus, anemones, and yellow vio- 
 lets are making glad and beautiful the banks of 
 our river. I feel daily like thanking God for 
 the privilege of looking upon another spring. 
 I have written very little this spring, — the 
 'Legend of St. Mark' is all in the line of verse 
 that I have attempted. I feel a growing dis- 
 inclination to pen and ink. Overworked and 
 tired by the long weary years of the anti-slavery 
 struggle, I want mental rest. I have already 
 lived a long life, if thought and action constitute 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 251 
 
 it. I have crowded into a few years what should 
 have been given to many." ^ 
 
 But the late summer of his life was slowly 
 opening. The accumulative power of his narra- 
 tive and reminiscent verse was impressing the 
 people, and his poetry began to be remunerative. 
 In 1849 B. B. Mussey and Company of Boston 
 paid him five hundred dollars for the copyrights 
 of all his verse hitherto issued, and published his 
 collected poems in a handsome volume, on which 
 he received a royalty and which passed into a 
 third edition. At about the same time James T. 
 Fields, whom Whittier had known for some 
 years, began his connection with the publishing 
 house of Mr. Ticknor. He had a hearty, genial 
 personality, and a genuine and fairly acute taste 
 for literature, a taste which was then rare in that 
 perilous field of enterprise where many faU and 
 few prosper, and only those succeed in publishing 
 books that are both good and remunerative who 
 have, as a sort of sixth sense, an appreciation for 
 the essentials of real literature which is almost 
 as great as the genius of the poet or the novelist. 
 Fields drew Whittier with him and found the best 
 in him, and from 1850 on Whittier's new books 
 were published by the Ticknor firm, which finally 
 purchased Mussey's rights and issued the blue 
 and gold volumes of "Whittier's collected poems 
 
 1 Piekard, Life, i. 335. 
 
252 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 in 1857. Under sucli good management, his 
 royalties grew larger and the long pressure of 
 poverty began to be relaxed. 
 
 Friends and acquaintances in abundance 
 Whittier had always had, brothers-in-arms in 
 the cause of reform, political and religious, and 
 colleagues, neighbors, and townsmen ; but his 
 companions both by choice and necessity were 
 almost always simple rural folks, unknown to 
 fame now or then, but righteous, sturdy souls, to 
 whom he justly gave due honor. Like the typi- 
 cal New Englander, who is in essence a man of 
 the sea-coast village or the hill hamlet, he opened 
 his heart to few or none, and lived the old life 
 of reticence and privacy, so foreign to town and 
 city ways. City people, indeed, he seems to have 
 thought of as a slightly different breed of men, 
 perhaps slightly to be distrusted. With Holmes, 
 at that period, he had no acquaintance, and with 
 Longfellow he was always on terms of formality; 
 Emerson he knew a little better, but not at all 
 well. Hawthorne he seems scarcely to have met. 
 With Lowell he had been brought into relations 
 by their common anti-slavery interests. They 
 wrote to each other without much restraint as 
 occasion demanded, but nothing like intimacy 
 existed between them. Whittier was a member 
 of the Saturday Club of the Boston circle of 
 authors, and he was one of the charter members. 
 
REFORMER AND MAN OF LETTERS 253 
 
 so to speak, of the " Atlantic " group. He was 
 in correspondence with Sumner, Hale, and other 
 men of political importance. Beecher and Phil- 
 lips supped with him at the Amesbury cottage 
 and lectured for him at the Amesbury Lyceum. 
 In 1858 he was elected an overseer of Harvard 
 College. He was becoming a man of national dis- 
 tinction, and his social and intellectual position 
 was secure. But in city life he appeared rarely 
 and reluctantly, partly on account of ill health, 
 largely from preference; and in his letters to 
 men of affairs and men of letters alike the tone 
 of genuine affection is missing. An exception 
 must perhaps be made in the case of Sumner, 
 and certainly in the case of Bayard Taylor, whose 
 genius he early recognized, and towards whom 
 he was drawn from the first. The letters that 
 passed between them are tokens of a warm 
 though probably by no means an intimate friend- 
 ship, and they enjoyed their infrequent meetings. 
 Taylor wrote to a friend, July 22, 1850 : — 
 " Friday morning early, Lowell and I started for 
 Amesbury, which we reached in a terrible north- 
 easter. What a capital time we had with Whit- 
 tier, in his nook of a study, with the rain pouring 
 on the roof, and the wind howling at the door ! " 
 In the main, however, Whittier led a secluded 
 and a lonely life. It was natural to his individual 
 temperament and to his emotional inheritance. 
 
254 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 It was, moreover, the source of his power as a 
 poet. Only the pure mind, unstained by passion, 
 only the solitary heart, given over to meditation, 
 was capable of throwing over the simple farming 
 life a reminiscent glamour of boyish romance. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 POET 
 
 1860-1892 
 
 Whittier's direct and formal connection with 
 the main body of abolitionists had ceased about 
 1840, in consequence of his determination to 
 stand by the lesser body, the " new organization," 
 of which he was one of the leaders, in its desire 
 to build up a third political party. The line of 
 advance of this body naturally became a result- 
 ant, a series of compromises and adjustments for 
 the sake of ultimately securing the end in view. 
 That end was secured ; but long before that the 
 formal " new organization " had disappeared and 
 its members had become participants in the vari- 
 ous political movements that led to the formation 
 of the Republican party. The " old organiza- 
 tion " held itself intact to the last, and even, 
 under the direction of Wendell Phillips, tried to 
 maintain itgelf, after the adoption of the Thir- 
 teenth Amendment, as an instrument for secur- 
 ing the political equality of the negro. But 
 Garrison, who had not shifted his course by a 
 fraction of a point since the establishment of the 
 
256 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 "Liberator" in 1831, closed the career of that 
 journal at the passage of the amendment. It 
 was then a fit time for all men to unite in prais- 
 ing the constancy to their great cause of the 
 abolitionist chiefs and their followers, and such 
 internal differences of opinion as had existed 
 among the agitators were lost in the common 
 rejoicing over their victory in establishing their 
 main principle. Garrison and Whittier ex- 
 changed affectionate letters on more than one 
 occasion. Garrison was glad to pay honor to his 
 old friend and co-worker, in spite of their diver- 
 gent views as to the means to be employed in 
 their crusade. In 1865, when Garrison's fellow- 
 townsmen of Newburyport congratulated him on 
 the triumphant culmination of his life work, and 
 formally celebrated his visit to his birthplace, 
 Whittier wrote a hymn for the services in the 
 city hall ; and in 1863, at the time of the com- 
 memoration of the thirtieth anniversary of the 
 formation of the American Anti-Slavery Society, 
 he concluded his formal letter of reminiscence, 
 written for publication, with this open statement 
 of his long-continued affection : " For thyself, I 
 need not say that the love and esteem of early 
 boyhood have lost nothing by the test of time." 
 Thus, by kindly and fraternal words on both sides, 
 the breach was closed, and the biographer has 
 the satisfaction of recording the complete recon- 
 
POET 257 
 
 ciliation of those two noble men, whose lives and 
 work have been so strangely intermingled. 
 
 With the growth of anti-slavery opinion in the 
 North that marked the close of the compromise 
 period, and with the birth of the new party, 
 Whittier's active share in politics decreased. 
 The cause of anti-slavery, however, remained the 
 great interest of his life. As a Quaker and as a 
 believer in reform by legal means, he deprecated 
 John Brown's wild attempt to kindle the flames 
 of rebellion, and though in the main an upholder 
 of the Union, he was horror-stricken by the war. 
 He followed Sumner in his opposition to Seward's 
 attempts at a last compromise, but he would al- 
 most have preferred dissolution to the terrible 
 alternative, and he had to the last a feeling — in 
 which his usual sagacity was absent — that some- 
 how the trial by arms could then be avoided : — 
 
 " For myself, I would like to maintain the 
 Union if it could be the Union of our fathers. 
 But if it is to be in name only ; if the sacrifices 
 and concessions upon which it lives must all be 
 made by the Free States to the Slave ; if the 
 peaceful victories of the ballot-box are to be 
 turned into defeats by threats of secession ; if 
 rebellion and treason are to be encouraged into 
 a standing menace, a power above law and Con- 
 stitution, demanding perpetual sacrifice, I, for 
 one, shall not lift a hand against its dissolution. 
 
258 JOHN OREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 As to fighting, in any event, to force hack the 
 seceders, I see no sense in it. Let them go on 
 with their mad experiment, the government sim- 
 ply holding its own, and enforcing its revenue 
 laws, until this whole matter can be fairly sub- 
 mitted to the people for their final adjudication." ^ 
 
 The war once begun, his principles did not 
 allow him to approve it nor to aid the belliger- 
 ents he thought to be fighting for the right : he 
 could only wait the outcome with anxious sorrow. 
 But he continually urged that slavery was the 
 real point at issue, and in his correspondence with 
 men of authority and influence in the United 
 States and in England, he helped to keep the 
 vital question at the front. In the matter of 
 reconstruction he held to Sumner's extreme doc- 
 trine. 
 
 The main interest in Whittier's life was poli- 
 tics rather than literature, and it could not be 
 expected that this interest would die away when 
 the cause to which he devoted himself had tri- 
 umphed. He still watched the affairs of the 
 state and the nation, and gave counsel freely, as 
 befitted one grown old in political service. He 
 exerted himself to counteract the bitter feeling 
 against Sumner which arose after his attack on 
 Grant's administration in 1872 ; and he was 
 foremost in the persistent eifort that resulted 
 1 Piekard, Life, ii. 436. 
 
POET 259 
 
 in annulling the Massachusetts resolutions of 
 censure against him for his proposition that the 
 names of battles in the Civil War should not be 
 borne on the flags of national regiments. He 
 urged the education of the negro and the Indian ; 
 he praised Gordon, soldier though he was ; he 
 interested himself in various minor causes; he 
 ■wrote in commendation or in suggestion to 
 prominent government officials and to great pol- 
 iticians ; he was consulted in district and state 
 affairs. Too old to change his vote when the 
 reaction against the Republicans set in, he yet 
 felt the force of the counter movement and re- 
 spected its best motives. Long a partisan, he 
 became in his later years a lover of the right irre- 
 spective of party, a friend of freedom and truth 
 and honest dealing under any name. 
 
 In word as well as in deed Whittier's share in 
 the anti-slavery conflict grew less. It had passed 
 beyond the phase in which his pen or his counsel 
 could aid. As long as the strife was one of in- 
 tellect and emotion, and the appeal was to the 
 judgment and the ballot, his verses were power- 
 ful instruments in the bloodless strife. But now 
 that the passions of men were aflame, the Quaker's 
 lips were dumb. His old stinging satire flashed 
 out for an instant, at need, when, to use his own 
 words of years later, " in the stress of our ter- 
 rible war, the English ruling class, with few ex- 
 
260 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 ceptions, were either coldly indifferent or hostile 
 to the party of freedom." But this was the only 
 occasion where he could render such a service. 
 His religion — stern in this precept only — kept 
 him away from the strife, out of real sympathy 
 with it, for to his creed the blood-stained triumph 
 was scarcely a victory, though a defeat at arms 
 would have been the worst punishment God 
 could have visited upon his cause. His station 
 was with the old men, the women, and the chil- 
 dren, helpless, innocent, pathetically resigned to 
 the woes which were not of their making and 
 yet which engulfed them. The verses wrung 
 from him in these bitter years were not the war- 
 rior's shout, but the wail of the stricken woman, 
 the prayer of faith and resignation that breathed 
 submission to the will of Heaven and trust in the 
 outcome of the right. His poems in this vein, 
 " Thy Will be Done " and " Ein Feste Burg ist 
 Unser Gott," were thus the voice of a great mul- 
 titude, and in this way he was still the spokesman 
 of the North. 
 
 Indeed, the Friend was able, after a fashion, 
 to speak even to the soldier in his grimmest 
 mood. The desire he had above all others, he told 
 one of the Hutchinson singers before the war, 
 was to write verses that might be sung.^ But the 
 battle-hymn of a people is as rarely written by 
 
 1 J. W. Hutchinson, Story of the Hutchinsons (1896), 397. 
 
POET 261 
 
 the man of genius as is the music to which it 
 is sung. To catch the rhythm to which armies 
 shall march, to find the simple tune that the 
 men in the ranks must sing, to come upon the 
 crude imagery which shall express the obscure, 
 underlying, slowly evolving thought of a myriad 
 multitude, is not the task for a lettered man. 
 The wordless passion must spread from brain to 
 brain until felt by the people at large, until its 
 accumulated might utters itself spontaneously in 
 some simple form on the lips of some obscure 
 singer whom chance shall choose. Thus it was 
 with " John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in 
 the grave " and with " We 're coming. Father 
 Abraham, three hundred thousand more," and, 
 indeed, with " Mine eyes have seen the glory of 
 the coming of the Lord," — the mystical utter- 
 ance of an excited woman, who scarcely knew 
 what she wrote. But though Whittier could not 
 make such songs, — no poet could or did, — 
 " We wait beneath the furnace-blast " and other 
 verses were sung to the Union soldiers by the 
 Hutchinson family — strange band of minstrels 
 before the Lord — and aroused great enthusiasm 
 by their moral force. Especially strong was the 
 effect of the stanza : — 
 
 " What gives the wheat-field blades of steel ? 
 What points the rehel cannon ? 
 What sets the roaring rabble's heel 
 On the old star-spangled penuon ? 
 
262 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 What breaks the oath 
 
 Of the men o' the South ? 
 
 What whets the knife 
 
 For the Union's life ? — 
 
 Hark to the answer : Slavery ! " 
 
 The army authorities were at first unwilling 
 to have such plain truths uttered, and the per- 
 mission given to the Hutchinsons was revoked. 
 But the matter was carried up to President 
 Lincoln, who read the poems to the Cabinet and 
 declared that those were the very songs he 
 wanted his soldiers to hear. 
 
 The poetry of any permanent value produced 
 by the war, both in the North and in the South, 
 is very small in quantity, and may perhaps be 
 regarded as virtually reducing itself to Whit- 
 man's " My Captain," Lowell's " Commemora- 
 tion Ode," and Whittier's " Barbara Frietchie." 
 The first is possibly the greatest, in that it is the 
 most direct and spontaneous translation of the 
 emotion of a people into beautiful imagery; 
 the second is the thoughtful exposition, by the 
 scholar and the statesman, of the national retro- 
 spect ; the third is the only ballad of the con- 
 flict. North or South, that has found its way to 
 the hearts of the people. The alleged facts on 
 which " Barbara Frietchie " was founded have 
 been somewhat hotly discussed ; but it is clear 
 that Whittier was guiltless of distorting in any 
 way the incident as it was reported to him, and 
 
POET 263 
 
 that, furthermore, whether the supposed incident 
 actually occurred or not is of no importance. It 
 was rumored to have occurred, and the rumor 
 was accepted as a fitting image of a real and 
 great emotion of the people. For the incident 
 and the poem are nothing but Webster's feder- 
 alist speeches put into ballad form, nothing but 
 a type of the great fact of common nationality 
 which both sections were forgetting. The stars 
 and stripes seemed to the South to stand for un- 
 just interference with the rights of certain states, 
 and it became to them, as to the Union army, 
 not the symbol of the country but only of the 
 North. The gray-haired woman, herself a re- 
 minder of the epoch when sectional differences 
 did not exist, by her loyalty to the old standard 
 under circumstances where it was regarded only 
 as a hostile emblem, is thus the incarnation of 
 the honor due, both North and South, to the 
 banner of our fathers, an honor in these later 
 years now again paid throughout our land. The 
 rebuke, offered to the South was sectional in 
 its appeal ; it was unjust in its inference that 
 General Jackson was not acting a noble part in 
 his defence of his state. But a popular ballad 
 cannot be delicate in its shading. The " rebel " 
 leader must feel the blush of shame, just as he 
 must melodramatically order a company to shoot 
 at a flag, instead of quietly instructing a corporal 
 
264 JOHN GREEN LEAF WHITTIER 
 
 to have it removed. The power of the poem now, 
 and its high significance then, lay not merely 
 in its perfect form, but in the direction which 
 it gave the thoughts of every reader toward 
 the ideal of national unity. 
 
 As the burden of his political cause bore less 
 heavily on his shoulders, Whittier turned with 
 alacrity to his older moods, which, as he explains 
 in the prelude to " The Tent on the Beach," he 
 had all the while felt calling him : — 
 
 " For while he wrought with strenuous will 
 The work his hands had found to do, 
 He heard the fitful music still 
 
 Of winds that out of dream-land blew. 
 The din about him could not drown 
 What the strange Toiees whispered down ; 
 Along his task-field weird processions swept, 
 The visionary pomp of stately phantoms stepped. 
 
 " The common air was thick with dreams, — 
 He told them to the toiling crowd ; 
 Such music as the woods and streams 
 
 Sang in his ear he sang aloud ; 
 In still, shut bays, on windy capes, 
 He heard the call of beckoning shapes, 
 And, as the gray old shadows prompted him, 
 To homely moulds of rhyme he shaped their legends grim," 
 
 The best poems of this last period are thus 
 narrative or legendary or religious rather than 
 political. Already an old man, he was destined 
 to make his position in American poetry secure 
 by a comparatively long period of devotion to 
 
POET 265 
 
 the ideals of his boyhood, achieving in his full- 
 ripened maturity with skill and success what he 
 had wrought at so blunderingly in his youth. 
 
 His narrative poems were somewhat influenced 
 in form by those of Longfellow, but differ dis- 
 tinctly from his in subject, Longfellow's shorter 
 pieces being much more frequently the retelling 
 of foreign rather than native tales. Whittier's 
 subjects, on the contrary, were by preference 
 American and New England. He loved Oriental 
 apologues, as befitted one who read travels 
 greedily and whose trend of thought was eth- 
 ical, and was skilful in framing them ; but he 
 dwelt with most affection on native legends and 
 was most successful in treating them. Here the 
 long studies of old days and his complete famil- 
 iarity with local history and tradition availed him 
 at last. The Indian reappears, not tricked out, 
 like Mogg Megone, in the style of Scott and 
 tinged with the mood of Byron ; no longer an 
 active, struggling, dramatic creature, hated, war- 
 ring, and oppressed, but a mere phantom of 
 colonial days, softened by long retrospect, dim 
 memories of whom are awakened by aged mon- 
 uments, and whose harsh traits are subdued 
 by antiquity. The old Quaker figures reappear 
 — martyrs, protestants, and prophets — in the 
 " Pennsylvania Pilgrim " and in a number of 
 shorter poems. And they are joined by the 
 
266 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 ■witches and their judges, the whole dramatis 
 personce of the period of supernaturalism ; by 
 seventeenth-century maidens and their lovers, 
 by soldiers like John UnderhiU, by Parson 
 Bachiler, and by the dim shadows of less well- 
 known folk, until the buried past rises, spectre- 
 like, to earth again. 
 
 In this ballad-making, as I have remarked, 
 Whittier owes much to Longfellow ; for though 
 he was himself a pioneer in the field, he for a 
 time well-nigh deserted it, whereas Longfellow 
 came to it fresh from the narrative romances of 
 Europe and with abundant leisure. But in the 
 native ballad, when he returned to cultivate it, 
 Whittier far surpassed Longfellow in force and 
 in truth. Longfellow's eyes were turned Europe- 
 ward, and he wrote of his old land like a half- 
 familiar stranger. Whittier's smallest phrase is 
 accurately true to fact, to tradition, or to our 
 sense of the typical and probable. Beneath the 
 artistic form lies the firm skeleton of history, as 
 beneath the often fanciful Norse saga is plainly 
 to be felt the presence of actual locality, inci- 
 dent, and personality. He realized, too, like the 
 wise antiquary, the limitations of the colonial civ- 
 ilization, — its prejudice and cruelty, its crude- 
 ness and barrenness, — and he saw, in later 
 times, not only the sturdy descendants of the 
 old stock, but 
 
POET 267 
 
 " Shrill, querulous women, sour and sullen men, 
 Untidy, loveless, old before their time, 
 With scarce a human interest save their own 
 Monotonous round of small economies, 
 Or the poor scandal of the neighborhood." ^ 
 
 This group of narrative poems are all his- 
 torical in character and moralizing in purpose 
 save one, unique in Whittier's work, " Annie 
 and Rhoda," which, as Mr. Higginson observes, 
 bears a strong resemblance to the modern 
 pseudo-mediasval ballads of Rossetti, and which, 
 I may add, was probably composed under his 
 influence, for the range and variety of Whit- 
 tier's poetical experiments have not been suffi- 
 ciently noted. Whittier was keen to see the 
 elements of another's arf and to enrich his own 
 thereby. He profited not only by the models of 
 his boyhood but — more slightly — by Tenny- 
 son, Browning, and Arnold ; and it is pleasant 
 to hear Rossetti's note of Old World supernat- 
 uralism echoed back in this grim ballad of Cape 
 Ann, in which the maiden who has buried her 
 affection in her heart sees the vision of the 
 wrecked and lost fisherman and hears his cry, 
 while his betrothed is blind to the sight and deaf 
 to his words. It was not often that the reticent 
 old Quaker, holding so closely to the fact, thus 
 gave his fancy play. 
 
 1 Prelude to Among the Hills. 
 
268 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 Much interest, too, attaches to three narrative 
 poems of this period, " The Maids of Attitash," 
 "Among the Hills," and "Amy Wentworth," 
 the last by far the most beautiful, all tracking 
 back to the moral of " Maud MuUer." They are 
 indeed its companion pieces, showing the happy 
 loves of those mated in affection, the happier 
 for their disparity in wealth and social stand- 
 ing. It was Whittier's own heart that spoke 
 here, prompted, no doubt, by his observation of 
 the growing gulf created by various degrees of 
 fortune between men and women who were by 
 nature each other's best mates ; and no social 
 or ethical teaching of his is more needed in our 
 own time than this true and democratic doctrine 
 of his that the old stock must be grafted with 
 the new, that 
 
 " The stream is brightest at its springs, 
 And Wood is not like Tpine ; 
 Nor honored less than he who heirs 
 Is he who founds a line." 
 
 Whittier's feeling on this point may be ima- 
 gined to have some connection, however remote, 
 with what we infer to have been his own experi- 
 ence — some love of his youth, it would appear, 
 having lapsed because he was too plainly a poor 
 farmer's lad. In the mood of reminiscence that 
 grew more intense as his share in active life 
 decreased, it would seem that his fancy dwelt 
 
POET 269 
 
 more and more on this, exaggerating in his 
 dreams the social distance between him and his 
 child-love. In " My Playmate," " The Hench- 
 man," the " Sea Dream," the same theme ap- 
 pears, dealt with more or less freely. He was 
 " the boy who fed her father's kine," and is still 
 a rustic, while " haply with her jewelled hands 
 she smooths her silken gown : " — 
 
 " And still the pines of Baiuoth wood 
 
 Are moaning like the sea, — 
 
 The moaning of the sea of change 
 
 Between myself and thee ! " 
 
 And thus this country girl with the brown 
 hair, unseen for fifty years, became to the dear 
 old man his Beatrice, a transfigured being, the 
 image of all that might have been, the type of 
 joys unknown, the pure guide of his spirit, the 
 memory of a meeting with whom at Marblehead, 
 by " the gray fort's broken wall," was woven 
 into what is to me his most musical and most 
 lovely poem : — 
 
 " Thou art not here, thou art not there, 
 Thy place I cannot see ; 
 I only know that where thou art 
 The hlessed angels he, 
 And heaven is glad for thee. 
 
 " Forgive me if the evil years 
 Have left on me their sign ; 
 Wash out, soul so beautiful. 
 
270 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 The many stains of mine 
 In tears of love divine ! 
 
 " I could not look on thee and lire, 
 If thon wert by my side ; 
 The vision of a shining one, 
 The white and heavenly bride, 
 Is vrell to me denied. 
 
 " But turn to me thy dear girl-face 
 Without the angel's crown, 
 The wedded roses of thy lips, 
 Thy loose hair rippling down 
 In waves of golden brown. 
 
 " Look forth once more through space and time, 
 And let thy sweet shade fall 
 In tenderest grace of soul and form 
 On memory's frescoed wall, 
 A shadow, and yet all I 
 
 " Draw near, more near, forever dear 1 
 Where'er I rest or roam, 
 Or in the city's crowded streets, 
 Or by the blown sea foam. 
 The thought of thee is home ! " 
 
 These verses of reminiscence, beautiful as 
 they are, are less widely known, and rightly so, 
 than " Snow-Bound," written when, his mother 
 and sister dead, the memory mood was strongest 
 in him, and generally judged to be his most char- 
 acteristic poem. It is so familiar to young and 
 old that it would be superfluous to describe it 
 or to analyze it in detail, but it is not improper 
 
POET 271 
 
 to dwell for a moment on three points concern- 
 ing it. 
 
 First, it is marvellous to notice how the most 
 special and personal facts of Whittier's individ- 
 ual experience, thus accurately stated, become 
 typical of the experiences of all his New Eng- 
 land fellows. Whittier was, from one point of 
 view, a highly specialized local product. Like 
 Lucy Larcom he might have wondered : " If I 
 had opened my eyes upon this planet elsewhere 
 than in this northeastern corner of Massachu- 
 setts, elsewhere than on this green, rocky strip 
 of shore between Beverly Bridge and the Misery 
 Islands, it seems to me as if I must have been 
 somebody else, and not myself. These gray 
 ledges hold me by the roots, as they do the bay- 
 berry bushes, the sweet-fern, and the rock-saxi- 
 frage." ^ 
 
 He, this old man who had been an East 
 Haverhill boy, describes his homestead, his 
 well-sweep, his brook, his family circle, his 
 schoolmaster, apparently intent on naught but 
 the complete accuracy of his narrative, and lo ! 
 such is his art that he has drawn the one per- 
 fect, imperishable picture of that bright old win- 
 ter life in that strange clime. Diaries, journals, 
 histories, biographies, and autobiographies, with 
 the same aim in view, are not all together so 
 
 ^ A New England Girlhood. 
 
272 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 typical as this unique poem of less than a 
 thousand lines. 
 
 Second, this generalizing power of the poem 
 is perhaps largely due to the emphasis which 
 Whittier throws upon the human side of the 
 picture. Nature meant comparatively little to 
 him, as to most New Englanders. The snow 
 occupies him for a moment, but what really 
 echoes in his memory is not the outward acci- 
 dent of the season, but the picturesque and 
 typical concentration and isolation of the family 
 life of which it was the cause. The weather and 
 the landscape are adequately treated, though 
 without emphasis. There is no pretty descrip- 
 tion of the winter brook, as in Lowell — it is 
 simply silent. The light converges in turn on 
 each figure in the family group, on his special 
 traits. Nature is subordinated, even at nature's 
 height of power, to human character. 
 
 Third, it was an old man, tender-hearted, who 
 thus drew the portraits of the circle of which he 
 and his brother alone survived. The mood was 
 one of wistful and reverential piety — the 
 thoughtful farmer's mood, in many a land, under 
 many a religion, recalling the ancient scenes 
 more clearly as his memory for recent things 
 grows less secure, living with fond regret the 
 departed days, yearning for friends long van- 
 ished. Our changed national life, the passing 
 
POET 273 
 
 away of the old agricultural conditions, the 
 breaking up of ancient traditions, has made this 
 wistful and reverential mood a constant element 
 in our recent literature. In poems and novels 
 we have delighted to reconstruct the past, as the 
 Arab singers before Mohammed began their lays 
 with the contemplation of a deserted camping- 
 ground. It was Whittier that introduced the 
 new theme, best described in the closing lines of 
 his own poem : — 
 
 " Yet, haply, in some lull of life, 
 Some Truce of God "which breaks its strife, 
 The worldling's eyes shall gather dew, 
 
 Dreaming in throngfid city ways 
 Of winter joys his boyhood knew ; 
 And dear and early friends — the few 
 Who yet remain — shall pause to view 
 
 These Flemish pictures of old days ; 
 Sit with me by the homestead hearth. 
 And stretch the hands of memory forth 
 
 To warm them at the wood-fire's blaze ! 
 And thanks untraced to lips unknown 
 Shall greet me like the odors blown 
 From unseen meadows newly mown. 
 Or lilies floating in some pond. 
 Wood-fringed, .the wayside gaze beyond ; 
 The traveller owns the grateful sense 
 Of sweetness near, he knows not whence. 
 And, pausing, takes with forehead bare 
 The benediction of the air." 
 
 In his old age Whittier's heart turned also 
 with increasing frequency to religious themes, 
 and we must, last of all, discuss his religious 
 
274 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 verse. It must be remembered that in his youth 
 he had been justly called "the gay young 
 Quaker." He was handsome, ambitious, fond 
 of women, with his heart set on political or lit- 
 erary fame. It was only as he neared middle 
 life and had given himself over unselfishly to 
 a humanitarian cause, that his letters and his 
 poems began to show a spirit of religious devo- 
 tion, which grew deeper and stronger with his 
 advancing years. His religious feeling was not, 
 however, one of creed or convention, but was in 
 this respect typical of a strong minority, exist- 
 ing certainly from early times ^ his district 
 and probably in all New England. Amesbury 
 had from its foundation been deeply tinged with 
 anti-Puritanical feeling. Indeed, beguiled by the 
 prominence of the local priesthood in affairs and 
 in literature, we often misread the history of 
 New England thought. We may suspect that 
 from the very beginning there was a consider- 
 able remnant who had little sympathy with the 
 mechanical creeds and political bigotry of the 
 reigning church. From such a remnant, long 
 without its share in literature, sprang Benja- 
 min Franklin, and we may imagine a continu- 
 ity of this quietly rebellious remnant — clear- 
 headed, righteous, unsuperstitious, but genuinely 
 religious — through all New England history, 
 standing calmly outside the church or remaining 
 
POET 275 
 
 unsympathetic with its doctrine, and forming 
 later the material on which Unitarianism and 
 Universalism drew so largely. Puritanism sat 
 in the seat of power and prominence, but it 
 never was completely victorious. From a thou- 
 sand hints we may guess the permanence of a 
 brave doubt of that fierce doctrine, combined 
 with a genuine but creedless piety. Many a 
 grizzled Essex County farmer in Whittier's time 
 had pondered long over the sacred books of 
 other religions, had read the Bible with critical 
 care, and was ready to do battle even with the 
 parson himself on . the main doctrines of the 
 church, while each respected the honor and 
 purity of the other's life and deeds. In New 
 England, as everywhere among intelligent peo- 
 ple, the current state religion was merely the 
 routine form of piety, and Whittier the Quaker, 
 whose religious opinions were independent of 
 books and logic, was no less typical than Cotton 
 Mather or Jonathan Edwards. 
 
 We thus find Whittier's attitude toward the 
 various religious movements of his time typical 
 not merely of his own Society but of a strong 
 New England minority. He could not bring 
 himself to conceive of heaven in the old mediae- 
 val fashion, " Dante's picture of Heaven, — an 
 old man sitting eternally on a high chair, and 
 concentric circles of saints, martyrs, and ordinary 
 
276 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 church members whirling around him in perpet- 
 ual gyration, and singing ' Glory ' ! " i He agreed 
 with " the thoughtful and earnest seekers after 
 truth in other denominations, who find it impos- 
 sible to accept much which seems to them irrev- 
 erent and dishonoring to God in creeds founded 
 on an arbitrary arrangement of isolated and 
 often irrelevant texts — the letter that killeth, 
 without the Spirit, which alone gives life. It 
 is scarcely possible to overestimate the evils of 
 doubt, anguish, despair, and infidelity resulting 
 from doctrines which attribute to the Heavenly 
 Father schemes and designs utterly at variance 
 with the moral sense of his creatures, and which 
 in them would be regarded as unspeakably un- 
 just and cruel." ^ With Joseph Cook and Mr. 
 Moody, the popular expounders of the old faith 
 in his day, he had little sympathy : — 
 
 " I have not read Joseph Cook's letters care- 
 fully, but a hasty perusal of two of them gave 
 me the impression of a good deal of ability and 
 smartness on the part of the author. After 
 all, there is no great use in arguing the ques- 
 tion of immortality. One must feel its truth. 
 You cannot climb into heaven on a syllogism. 
 Moody and Sankey are busy in Boston. The 
 papers give the discourses of Mr. Moody, which 
 
 1 Pickard, Life, ii. 668. 
 
 2 Pickard, Life, ii. 723. 
 
POET 277 
 
 seem rather commonplace and poor, but the man 
 is in earnest, and believes in all the literalness 
 of the Bible and of John Calvin. I hope he will 
 do good, and believe that he will reach and 
 move some who could not be touched by James 
 Freeman Clarke or Phillips Brooks. I cannot 
 accept his theology, or part of it at least, and his 
 methods are not to my taste. But if he can 
 make the drunkard, the gambler, and the de- 
 bauchee into decent men, and make the lot of 
 their weariful wives and children less bitter, I 
 bid him God-speed." ^ 
 
 He even shrank from the Episcopal Church, 
 which was beginning so deftly to dissolve the old 
 Unitarian and Congregationalist influences in 
 Eastern Massachusetts. He wrote to Lucy 
 Larcom : "I do not wonder that ' the Church ' 
 commends itself to thy mind and heart, so far 
 as it is represented by Phillips Brooks. But I 
 am too much of a Quaker to find a home there. 
 Quakerism has no church of its own — it belongs 
 to the Church Universal and Invisible." ^ 
 
 It was against the intrusion of reason into 
 religion, against a blind trust in the words of a 
 book, that Whittier rebelled. His was the Old 
 Quakerism. " That central doctrine of ours," he 
 wrote to Professor Gummere of Haverford, — 
 " the Divine Immanence and Universal Light, 
 
 I Piokard, Ufe, ii. 628. ^ jjj^;. ;£. 747^ 
 
278 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 — will yet be found the stronghold of Chris- 
 tendom, the sure, safe place from superstition on 
 the one hand and scientific doubt on the other." 
 " We can do without Bible or church," he wrote 
 to Elizabeth Stuart Phelps ; " we cannot do with- 
 out God, and of Him we are sure. All that 
 science and criticism can urge cannot shake the 
 self-evident truth that He asks me to be true, 
 just, merciful, and loving, and because He asks 
 me to be so, I know that He is himself what He 
 requires of me." ^ It was this rigidly simple 
 belief, which scarcely went beyond the state- 
 ments thus quoted, that made him so typical of 
 all men of deep feeling, and that has placed so 
 many of his poems in the hymnals- of several 
 Christian sects. His doctrine was one on which 
 all could unite. 
 
 But the inner promptings of the Spirit — 
 independent of book or reason — must seem but 
 a frail support when age presses and friends 
 vanish and the heart cries out for a witness to 
 the hope of a hereafter. Here and there in 
 Whittier's poems we find a trace of the paralyz- 
 ing fear that the inner sense that tells us of 
 immortality may be but a false gleam of light, 
 and this is particularly true in his letters : — 
 
 " As the years pass and one slides so rapidly 
 down the afternoon slope of life, until the dark 
 
 1 Pickard, Life, U. 567. 
 
POET 279 
 
 and chill of the evening shadows rest upon him, 
 he longs for the hands and voices of those who, 
 in the morning, went up on the other side with 
 him. The awful mysteries of life and nature 
 sometimes almost overwhelm me. ' What, Where, 
 Whither ? ' These questions sometimes hold me 
 breathless. How little, after all, do we know ! 
 And the soul's anchor of Faith can only grap- 
 ple fast upon two or three things, and first and 
 surest of all upon the Fatherhood of God." •' 
 
 It was under the spur of such dread that his 
 thoughts turned often to spiritualism, a belief 
 towards which he had a plain leaning. His acute- 
 ness of judgment made him suspect fraud in 
 many alleged manifestations, but he followed 
 carefully the work of the English Society for 
 Psychical Research, whose " investigations are 
 conducted strictly on scientific principles ; " he 
 hoped but scarcely expected that " some clue 
 may be found to the great mystery of life and 
 death — and the beyond ; " ^ and he craved him- 
 self for some sign : — 
 
 " ' I have had as good a chance to see a 
 ghost,' he once said, ' as anybody ever had, but 
 not the slightest sign ever came to me. I do 
 not doubt what others tell me, but I some- 
 times wonder over my own incapacity. I should 
 like to see some dear ghost walk in and sit 
 
 1 Pickard, Life, ii. 625. « Ibid. ii. 720. 
 
280 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 down by me when I am here alone. The doings 
 of the old witch days have never been explained, 
 and as we are so soon to be transferred to an- 
 other state, how natural it appears that some of 
 us should have glimpses of it here ! We all feel 
 the help we receive from the Divine Spirit. Why 
 deny, then, that some men have it more directly 
 and more visibly than others ? ' " ^ 
 
 Not reason, nor research, nor faith could alto- 
 gether quiet in him the flickering human doubt. 
 Where, whither, what, how ? are the questions 
 that repeat themselves in his letters, only to be 
 answered by the firm answers of faith. And it 
 is this subordination of doubt, rather than its 
 annihilation, this childlike and manlike trust, 
 that has made his religious poetry so deeply and 
 widely beloved. 
 
 The years of this last period of Whittier's life 
 were eventless. He was still an invalid. Head- 
 aches oppressed him after any prolonged men- 
 tal effort, and he was harassed by sleeplessness, 
 and now and then prostrated by severe illnesses. 
 The bitter northern winters had always troubled 
 him, and as his strength failed slowly he shrank 
 from the excessive summer heat. But he habit- 
 uated himself to the discomforts of age and 
 weakness, managed wisely the strength he had, 
 and lived, all in all, a placid and happy life, 
 
 1 Mrs. Fields, Whittier, 35. 
 
POET 281 
 
 interested in local and national affairs, reading 
 widely in works of travel, history, and pure lit- 
 erature, and happy in the society of his friends 
 and in the necessary routine of life. 
 
 Between Whittier and his younger sister, 
 Elizabeth, there existed the strongest bonds of 
 affection, heightened by a somewhat close simi- 
 larity in their tastes and temperaments. Lucy 
 Larcom, who knew both well, thus sensitively de- 
 scribes, in her journal, their life together : — 
 
 " At Amesbury, — with two of the dearest 
 friends my life is blessed with, — dear quiet 
 Lizzie, and her poet brother. I love to sit with 
 them in the still Quaker worship, and they love 
 the free air and all the beautiful things as much 
 as they do aU the good and spiritual. The hare- 
 bells nodding in shade and shine on the steep 
 banks of the Merrimac, the sparkle of the waters, 
 the blue of the sky, the balm of the air, and the 
 atmosphere of grave sweet friendliness which I 
 breathed for one calm ' First Day ' are never to 
 be forgotten. . . . 
 
 "But theirs is a home in each other's love, 
 which makes earth a place to cling to for its 
 beauty yet. If I could not think of them to- 
 gether there, of the quiet light which bathes 
 everything within and around their cottage under 
 the shadow of the hill, of the care repaid by 
 gentle trust, and the dependence so blessed in 
 
282 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 its shelter of tenderness and strength, the world 
 would seem to me a much drearier place; for I 
 have never seen anything like this brother's and 
 sister's love, and the home atmosphere it creates, 
 the trust in human goodness and the Divine Love 
 it diffuses into all who enter the charmed circle." ^ 
 After the death of his sister in 1864, he stiU 
 occupied the pretty little house in Amesbury, 
 which was kept for him by his niece, Elizabeth 
 Whittier. When, in 1876, she married Mr. 
 Samuel T. Piekard, he became for a great part 
 of the years that remained to him the guest of 
 his cousins, the Misses Johnson, at Oak Knoll, 
 a beautiful estate at Danvers, which they had 
 recently purchased ; but the Amesbury house 
 was usually kept open for him, so that he might 
 return for shorter or longer intervals. His in- 
 come from royalties on his books had now for 
 some years largely exceeded his needs, and 
 though he gave much in charity, he was not 
 obliged to write more than he chose nor to take 
 anxious thought about his worldly affairs. From 
 time to time he came to Boston for short peri- 
 ods, either going to the house of an intimate 
 friend or to a quiet hotel. His summers he 
 spent at Amesbury, at Danvers, at the Isles of 
 Shoals with Celia Thaxter, or in company with 
 relatives in pleasant New Hampshire inns on 
 1 D. D. Addison, Lucy Larcom (1894), 98, 135. 
 
POET 283 
 
 Lake Winnepesaukee or near Chocorua. We 
 may fancy his old age, then, as happy in all 
 these environments. At Amesbury he had lived 
 the old life of the citizen and neighbor, well 
 known and none the less loved, a prophet hon- 
 ored in his own country. He mingled freely 
 with old friends, whom he often met in the shop 
 of a village tailor, himself a man of much acute- 
 ness and breadth of mind ; he kept in touch 
 with local affairs ; he helped many by counsel 
 and by gifts — it was the old country life. At 
 Danvers he was, though so near, yet remote. The 
 high-backed hiUs shut out the Merrimac valley. 
 He was not familiarly known to the rural folk, 
 though many a lad such as I, hunting for birds' 
 nests in the woods thereabouts, or tramping up 
 and down that Roman-straight Newburyport turn- 
 pike, knew that somewhere near lived the gray 
 old country poet. Cut off from the old village 
 life, with its neighbor intimacies, its jostle of 
 interests, its smack of the farm and store and 
 factory, he had here the seclusion of a beautiful 
 estate, with its ways of comfort and distinction ; 
 the pleasures of the farm without its toil ; 
 orchards, fine trees, and lawns ; companionship 
 in life of a more stately fashion. In Boston, on 
 his occasional visits, he was made as much of as 
 he would, and could feel himself the man of 
 national reputation, whom people of wealth and 
 
284 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 high social standing were glad to have in their 
 houses. In New Hampshire, he enjoyed the phy- 
 sical stimulus and mental relaxation which came 
 from noble scenery, the fresh air of the lake and 
 the mountains, the restful companionship of relar 
 tives and friends, — summer pleasures new to 
 one who had long spent all the year round, alter- 
 nately chilled or baked, in the same little house 
 in a bustling lowland village. From aU these 
 sources came the content of satisfied old age 
 after a middle life of heart-breaking endeavor, 
 scanty means, and narrow opportunities. 
 
 Whittier's life, however, was at best a lonely 
 one. An invalid and a bachelor, he was, too, 
 almost entirely deprived of intimate friendship 
 with men. His fiery devotion to humanitarian 
 aims had brought him into close and cordial re- 
 lations with certain men whom he loved, as with 
 Sumner, but such friendships were maintained 
 mostly by correspondence and lacked in a mea- 
 sure the warmth and completeness which he must 
 have craved. At Amesbury he had frequent 
 companionship with certain of his neighbors, 
 and such relations were again eminently char- 
 acteristic and satisfactory, though mainly due 
 to the accidents of contiguity. But he was a 
 thoroughly reticent man, in essence ascetic and 
 restrained, and whether by force of circum- 
 stances or by preference, there was throughout 
 
POET 285 
 
 his life apparently no one man or group of men 
 with whom he was long on terms of complete 
 intimacy, or to whom he was accustomed to open 
 his heart. Smnner he loved and Bayard Taylor, 
 though he saw either but rarely, and he admired 
 Whipple greatly. With Long-fellow he had 
 only an acquaintanceship, and between him and 
 Holmes, who in later years wrote to him and of 
 him so warmly, there was little in common ex- 
 cept their old age and their poetic fame. Haw- 
 thorne he knew scarcely at all, and he sometimes 
 spoke with quaint humor of his sensations in 
 calling on him once when Hawthorne's preoccu- 
 pied and solemn air made him look to Whittier 
 " as if he had just come up from down cellar." 
 With Emerson he was on better, though not at 
 all intimate, terms, and he was accustomed to 
 relate several characteristic anecdotes of him. 
 In one Emerson remarked that a devout Cal- 
 vinist prayed for him daily, adding that he 
 himself offered a prayer for himself each day. 
 " Does thee ? " said Whittier. " What does thee 
 pray for, friend Emerson ? " " Well," replied 
 Mr. Emerson, " when I first open my eyes upon 
 the morning meadows, and look out upon the 
 beautiful world, I thank God that I am alive, 
 and that I live so near Boston." ^ But such an 
 incident, though amusing, shows the lack of 
 1 Mrs. Claflin, Personal Recollections of John G. Whittier, 26. 
 
286 JOHN QREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 real depth and community of interest between 
 them. 
 
 Foreign visitors often came to see Whittier. 
 He liked Dickens well and recognized Matthew 
 Arnold's virtues ; for Charles Kingsley he had 
 a hearty affection. With the brilliant Southern 
 poet, Paul Hamilton Hayne, who visited him at 
 Oak KnoU, he long kept up a friendly corre- 
 spondence, indicative on both sides of a breadth 
 of mind and heartiness of feeling that augured 
 well for the rapid reconciliation of the North 
 and the South. But his most familiar acquaint- 
 ances were almost invariably women ; and this 
 was natural. Ascetic in life, not touching wine 
 or tobacco, unused to sport, frail of health, iso- 
 lated in residence, without employment that 
 brought him into regular contact with his fel- 
 lows, reticent and shy, there was no line of 
 communication open between his life and that 
 of men of robust and active habits, whose peer 
 he really was. Women understood better his 
 prim and gentle ways, his physical delicacy, his 
 saintly devotion to spiritual ideals. His most 
 frequent correspondents were women, — Lucy 
 Larcom, Alice and Phcebe Gary, Celia Thaxter, 
 Gail Hamilton, Mrs. Stowe, Elizabeth Stuart 
 Phelps, Edith Thomas, Sarah Orne Jewett, 
 Edna Dean Proctor, Mrs. Fields, Mrs. Claflin, 
 — and his letters to them show sincere friendship 
 
POET 287 
 
 and community of spirit. In old age his was the 
 point of view, the theory of life, of the woman 
 of gentle tastes, literary interests, and religious 
 feeling. The best accounts of his later life are 
 those of Mrs. Claflin and Mrs. Fields, in whose 
 houses he was often a guest; and they have much 
 to say of his sincere friendliness and quiet talk, 
 his shy avoidance of notoriety or even of a large 
 group of people, his keen sense of humor, his 
 tales of his youth, his quaintly serious comments 
 on life, his sudden comings and goings, as incli- 
 nation moved, and of the rare occasions when, 
 deeply moved, he spoke of the great issues of 
 religion with beautiful earnestness and simple 
 faith. And it is pleasant to think of this farm- 
 er's lad, who had lived for forty years in all but 
 poverty for the love of God and his fellows, , 
 taking an innocent delight in the luxury of 
 great houses and in the sheltered life of those 
 protected from hardship and privation. After 
 his long warfare this was a just reward. 
 
 Thus the years passed, bringing him peace 
 and pleasant associations, and love and honor 
 from the people. His birthdays were celebrated 
 with increasing respect as his age advanced. In 
 1877, the seventieth anniversary, the " Literary 
 World " of Boston devoted an entire issue to 
 tributes to him in prose and verse from men 
 and women of letters, and he was the guest of 
 
288 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 honor at a dinner given by the publishers of the 
 " Atlantic Monthly " to its distinguished con- 
 tributors. In 1887 the commonwealth itself 
 paid him the honor due for his eminence not 
 only in literature but in politics, the governor 
 and other distinguished citizens coming to Oak 
 Knoll to present their congratulations. The 
 succeeding anniversaries were observed in schools 
 throughout a large part of the United States. 
 He had lived to be one of the last representa- 
 tives of the abolitionist cause and of the old 
 group of New England poets, and he stood to 
 the whole nation for antique virtue, for a race 
 of men now passed away. • 
 
 In the winter of 1892 he barely rallied from 
 the terrible "grippe," less a cold than a pesti- 
 lent scourge of humanity ; but in the following 
 spring and summer he recovered somewhat his 
 strength, and proposed spending a little time at 
 the house of an old friend at Hampton Falls, 
 N. H. Here, under the colonial elms or on the 
 balcony on which his room opened, he rested, 
 looking out over the meadows, watching the dis- 
 tant ships, reading, dreaming of old days, and, 
 free from the intrusion of strangers, holding 
 pleasant conversations with dear friends. But 
 his strength was frail and a slight illness pros- 
 trated him ; and death — peaceful and compar- 
 atively painless — soon followed. Almost his 
 
POET 289 
 
 last words were " Love — love to all the world." 
 His funeral services were held in the little gar- 
 den in Amesbury on which his study opened, 
 and he was buried in the village cemetery on 
 the hill that overlooks the valley he loved. 
 Around him are the graves of his family, for he 
 was the last survivor of the circle that gathered 
 about the hearth in the snow-bound homestead. 
 And, such was his art, there is no other fam- 
 ily in the world whose members are so widely 
 known among the peoples who speak the English 
 tongue. 
 
 In person Whittier was tall, slender, dark of 
 complexion, and of active habit. At the age 
 of twenty-seven " he wore a dark frock-coat, with 
 standing collar, which, with his thin hair, dark 
 and sometimes flashing eyes, and black whiskers, 
 not large, but noticeable in those unhirsute days, 
 gave him, to my then unpractised eye, quite as 
 much of a military as a Quaker aspect. His 
 broad square forehead and well-cut features, 
 aided by his incipient reputation as a poet, made 
 him quite a noticeable feature of the conven- 
 tion." 1 Mr. Higginson's memory of him at 
 thirty-five presents the same characteristics more 
 vividly : " I saw before me a man of striking per- 
 sonal appearance ; tall, slender, with olive com- 
 
 1 J. Miller McKim, quoted in Pickard, Life, i. 135. 
 
290 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 plexion, black hair, straight, black eyebrows, 
 brilliant eyes, and an Oriental, Semitic cast of 
 countenance," ^ And Mr. Robert S. Rantoul 
 speaks of him as having " the reticence and 
 presence of an Arab chief, with the eye of an 
 eagle." ^ In later life he was at first sight a less 
 impressive figure, with a touch of rusticity, and 
 the dress and bearing of an older time, but al- 
 ways dignified and alert. Mr. Gosse, who visited 
 him in 1884, describes accurately his appearance 
 in old age : — 
 
 " Mr. Whittier himself appeared, with all that 
 report had ever told of gentle sweetness and dig- 
 nified cordial courtesy. He was then seventy- 
 seven years' old, and, although he spoke of age 
 and feebleness, he showed few signs of either; 
 he was, in fact, to live eight years more. . . . 
 The peculiarity of his face rested in the extraor- 
 dinary large and luminous black eyes, set in 
 black eyebrows, and fringed with thick black 
 eyelashes curiously curved inwards. This bar of 
 vivid black across the countenance was startlingly 
 contrasted with the bushy snow-white beard and 
 hair, offering a sort of contradiction which 
 was surprising and presently pleasing. . . . He 
 struck me as very gay and cheerful, in spite of 
 
 1 T. W. Higginson, Whittier (1902), 94. 
 ^ Historical Collections of the Essex Institute, xxxvii (1901), 
 135. 
 
POET 291 
 
 his occasional references to the passage of time 
 and the vanishing of beloved faces. He even 
 laughed, frequently and with a childlike sudden- 
 ness, but without a sound. His face had none 
 of the immobility so frequent with very aged 
 persons ; on the contrary, waves of mood were 
 always sparkling across his features, and leaving 
 nothing stationary there except the narrow, high, 
 and strangely receding forehead. His language, 
 very fluid and easy, had an agreeable touch of 
 the soil, an occasional rustic note in its elegant 
 colloquialism, that seemed very pleasant and 
 appropriate, as if it linked him naturally with 
 the long line of sturdy ancestors of whom he was 
 the final blossoming. In connection with his 
 poetry, I think it would be difficult to form in 
 the imagination a figure more appropriate to 
 Whittier's writings than Whittier himself proved 
 to be in the flesh." ^ 
 
 In the criticism of Whittier's work there re- 
 mains little to be said, even by way of summary. 
 His prose pieces, perhaps, deserve more credit 
 than is usually given them, but they do not show 
 genius. His verse deals, first, with reform ; 
 second, with New England life, both historically 
 and in reminiscence ; third, with faith in God 
 and immortality. The reforms he advocated 
 
 1 •' A Visit to Whittier," The Bookman, viii. 459. 
 
292 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 were temporary, and his verses of this sort will 
 doubtless be obscured by time. Many have al- 
 ready lost their interest. But their vehemence 
 and elevation of spirit would long preserve a 
 few, even were they not closely associated with 
 the most critical period of our national history. 
 His historical ballads are almost supreme in 
 their class, and his poems memorial of the old 
 farm life are unique ; both must live long by 
 the sheer potency of their matter and by the 
 virtue of their simple but delicate art. His re- 
 ligious verse, of less striking merit, is less sure 
 of comparative permanency, but has clearly 
 many chances of survival, due to the author's 
 simple-minded faith in an age preeminently of 
 intellectual doubt. 
 
 Adverse criticism of Whittier's verse is mainly 
 confined to three points, — its unequal value, its 
 tendency to moralize, and its loose rhymes. All 
 three points are well taken. Inequality in poetic 
 work, however, does not deeply concern the con- 
 temporary reading public or that of posterity. 
 We have only to put aside the trivial and to re- 
 tain the worthy, thankful for whatever remains 
 after the sifting. A moralizing poet, to touch 
 on the second point for an instant, Whittier cer- 
 tainly was, nor can we imagine him as anything 
 widely different. The reforming element be- 
 longed to the essence of his nature ; and he was 
 
POET 293 
 
 in this respect profoundly typical of New Eng- 
 land. We must frankly accept him as he was. 
 Whitman, whose point of view was so opposite, 
 judged him wisely. " Whittier's poetry," he 
 said in a letter to Mr. Kennedy, "stands for 
 morality ... as filtered through the positive 
 Puritanical and Quaker filters ; is very valuable 
 as a genuine utterance. . . . Whittier is rather 
 a grand figure — pretty lean and ascetic — no 
 Greek — also not composite and universal enough 
 (does n't wish to be, does n't try to be) for ideal 
 Americanism." ^ Lastly, Whittier's apparently 
 inaccurate rhymes are sometimes due to his fidel- 
 ity to the pronunciation with which he was fa- 
 miliar. More frequently, they are due to the fact 
 that his ear was often pleased, as is mine, by 
 an approximate rhyme or by a rough assonance. 
 The critics forget that in this particular the pub- 
 lic is largely, and has always been, on his side. 
 Minute accuracy in rhyme seems to me a some- 
 what pedantic and bookish notion. 
 
 In form his poetic product is characterized by 
 extreme simplicity, and his skill is due to native 
 talent, supplemented by much practice under 
 circumstances that gave him such interest in his 
 matter that he was scarcely conscious of his 
 manner. His style was, moreover, repeatedly 
 modified by the influence of other poets. From 
 
 1 W. S. Kennedy, Whittier (American Refoimeis), 220. 
 
294 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 the point of view of form, he achieved his great- 
 est success in the ballad, especially where the 
 tale was one long familiar to him, — so familiar, 
 indeed, that it was remembered and forgotten 
 in turn until it one day took on an almost per- 
 fect shape. 
 
 Of American poets he appeals, with Long- 
 fellow, to the plain people, to the major part of 
 the inhabitants of the land. Both were, in spite 
 of great differences in education and experi- 
 ence, singularly simple-minded men. As a pro- 
 fessor Longfellow might have become a pedant. 
 As a reformer Whittier might have become a 
 pessimist or a politician. Both remained almost 
 childlike. Life was to both an infinitely simple 
 matter. Longfellow had the greater breadth of 
 mind; Whittier, the greater intensity. Long- 
 fellow had more richness and variety of tone ; 
 Whittier, more sincerity. Both were by nature 
 singers, and for the nation at large none of their 
 contemporaries can compare with either. 
 
 It might be said that this simplicity, this lack 
 of intellectual breadth and depth, stamps Whit- 
 tier as a minor English poet. Those of us, 
 however, who hesitate to rank poets according 
 to a conventional system would prefer merely 
 to say that he may properly be classed with 
 poets of simple thought and feeling, rather than 
 with poets of intricate art or intricate feeling 
 
POET 295 
 
 or intricate thought, — different from these, 
 then, rather than greater or less. His best ana- 
 logue is Burns, of whose general type he is. 
 His life was more noble, his verse of much the 
 same importance, I should say, to Americans as 
 that of Burns to Scotchmen. He was so strictly 
 a local poet that it is doubtful of what per- 
 manent value he will be to other nations using 
 our common language, but with us his fame is 
 secure. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 WHITTIEE S ATJTOBIOGKAPHICAL LETTER 
 [Printed privately, for use in correspondence.] 
 
 Amksboey, 5th Mo., 1882. 
 
 Deak Friend, — I am asked in thy note of this 
 morning to give some account of my life. There is 
 very little to give. I can say with Canning's knife- 
 grinder : " Story, God bless you ! I have none to 
 teUyou!" 
 
 I was born on the 17th of December, 1807, in the 
 easterly part of Haverhill, Mass., in the house built 
 by my first American ancestor, two hundred years 
 ago. My father was a farmer, in moderate circum- 
 stances, — a man of good natural ability, and sound 
 judfment. For a great many years he was one of 
 the Selectmen of the town, and was often called upon 
 to act as arbitrator in matters at issue between neigh- 
 bors. My mother was Abigail Hussey, of BoUinsford, 
 N. H. A bachelor uncle and a maiden aunt, both of 
 whom I remember with much affection, lived in the 
 family. The farm was not a very profitable one ; it 
 was burdened with debt and we had no spare money ; 
 but with strict economy we lived comfortably and 
 respectably. Both my parents were members of the 
 Society of Friends. I had a brother and two sisters. 
 
298 APPENDIX 
 
 Our home was somewhat lonely, half hidden in oak 
 woods, with no house in sight, and we had few com- 
 panions of our age, and few occasions of recreation. 
 Our school was only for twelve weeks in a year, — in 
 the depth of winter, and half a mile distant. At an 
 early age I was set at work on the farm, and doing 
 errands for my mother, who, in addition to her ordi- 
 nary house duties, was busy in spinning and weaving 
 the linen and wooUen cloth needed in the family. On 
 First-days father and mother, and sometimes one of 
 the children, rode down to the Friends' Meeting-house 
 in Amesbury, eight miles distant. I think I rather 
 enjoyed staying at home and wandering in the 
 woods, or climbing Job's hill, which rose abruptly 
 from the brook which rippled down at the foot of 
 our garden. From the top of the hill I could see 
 the blue outline of the Deerfield mountains in New 
 Hampshire, and the solitary peak of Agamenticus on 
 the coast of Maine. A curving line of morning mist 
 marked the course of the Merrimae, and Great Pond, 
 or Eenoza, stretched away from the foot of the* hill 
 towards the village of Haverhill, hidden from sight by 
 intervening hills and woods, but which sent to us the 
 sound of its two church bells. We had only about 
 twenty volumes of books, most of them the journals 
 of pioneer ministers in our society. Our only annual 
 was an almanac. I was early fond of reading, and 
 now and then heard of a book of biography or travel, 
 and walked miles to borrow it. 
 
 When I was fourteen years old my first school- 
 master, Joshua Coffin, the able, eccentric historian of 
 
JOHN OREENLEAF WHITTIER 299 
 
 Newbury, brought with him to our house a volume 
 of Burns's poems, from which he read, greatly to my 
 delight. I begged him to leave the book with me, 
 and set myself at once to the task of mastering the 
 glossary of the Scottish dialect at its close. This was 
 about the first poetry I had ever read (with the excep- 
 tion of that of the Bible, of which I had been a close 
 student), and it had a lasting influence upon me. I 
 began to make rhymes myself, and to imagine stories 
 and adventures. In fact I lived a sort of dual life, and 
 in a world of fancy, as well as in the world .of plain 
 matter-of-fact about me. My father always had a 
 weekly newspaper, and when young Garrison started 
 his " Free Press " at Newburyport, he took it in the 
 place of the " Haverhill Gazette." My sister, who 
 was two years older than myself, sent one of my 
 poetical attempts to the editor. Some weeks after- 
 wards the news-carrier came along on horseback and 
 threw the paper out from his saddle-bags. My uncle 
 and I were mending fences. I took up the sheet, 
 and was surprised and overjoyed to see my lines in 
 the " Poet's Corner." I stood gazing at them in won- 
 der, and my uncle had to call me several times to 
 my work before I could recover myself. Soon after. 
 Garrison came to our farmhouse, and I was called 
 in from hoeing in the corn-field to see him. He 
 encouraged me, and urged my father to send me 
 to school. I longed for education, but the means to 
 procure it were wanting. Luckily, the young man 
 who worked for us on the farm in summer, eked out 
 his small income by making ladies' shoes and slippers 
 
300 APPENDIX 
 
 in the winter ; and I learned enough of him to earn 
 a sum sufficient to carry me through a term of six 
 months in the Haverhill Academy. The next winter 
 I ventured upon another expedient for raising money, 
 and kept a district school in the adjoining town of 
 Ameshury, thereby enabling me to have another 
 academy term. The next winter I spent in Boston, 
 writing for a paper. Returning in the spring, while 
 at work on the farm, I was surprised by an invita- 
 tion to take charge of the Hartford (Ct.) " Review," 
 in the place of the famous George D. Prentice, who 
 had removed to Kentucky. I had sent him some 
 of my school " compositions," which he had received 
 favorably. I was unwilling to lose the chance of 
 doing something more in accordance with my taste, 
 and, though I felt my unfitness for the place, I ac- 
 cepted it, and remained nearly two years, when I was 
 called home by the illness of my father, who died 
 soon after. I then took charge of the farm, and 
 worked hard to " make both ends meet ; " and, aided 
 by my mother's and sister's thrift and economy, in 
 some measure succeeded. 
 
 As a member of the Society of Friends, I had been 
 educated to regard Slavery as a great and danger- 
 ous evil, and my sympathies were strongly enlisted 
 for the oppressed slaves by my intimate acquaintance 
 with WiUiam Lloyd Garrison. When the latter 
 started his paper in Vermont, in 1828, I wrote him 
 a letter commending his views upon Slavery, Intem- 
 perance and War, and assuring him that he was des- 
 tined to do great things. In 1833 I was a delegate 
 
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 301 
 
 to. the first National Anti-Slavery Convention, at Phil- 
 adelphia. I was one of the Secretaries of the Con- 
 vention and signed its Declaration. In 1835 I was 
 in the Massachusetts Legislature. I was mobbed in 
 Concord, N. H., in company with George Thompson, 
 afterwards member of the British Parliament, and 
 narrowly escaped from great danger. I kept Thomp- 
 son, whose life was hunted for, concealed in our lonely 
 farmhouse for two weeks. I was in Boston during 
 the great mob in Washington Street, soon after, 
 and was threatened with personal violence. In 1837 
 I was in New York, in conjunction with Henry B. 
 Stanton and Theodore D. Weld, in the office of the 
 American Anti-Slavery Society. The next year I 
 took charge of the " Pennsylvania Freeman," an 
 organ of the Anti-Slavery Society. My office was 
 sacked and burned by a mob soon after, but I con- 
 tinued my paper until my health failed, when I re- 
 turned to Massachusetts. The farm in Haverhill had, 
 in the mean time, been sold, and my mother, aunt, 
 and youngest sister had moved to Amesbury, near 
 the Friends' Meeting-house, and I took up my resi- 
 dence with them. All this time I had been actively 
 engaged in writing for the anti-slavery cause. In 
 1833 I printed at my own expense an edition of my 
 first pamphlet, " Justice and Expediency." With the 
 exception of a few dollars from the " Democratic 
 Review " and " Buckingham's Magazine," I received 
 nothing for my poems and literary articles. Indeed, 
 my pronounced views on Slavery made my name too 
 unpopular for a publisher's uses. I edited in 1844 
 
302 APPENDIX 
 
 " The Middlesex Standard," and afterwards became 
 associate editor of the " National Era," at Washing- 
 ton. I early saw the necessity of separate political 
 action on the part of abolitionists ; and was one of 
 the founders of the Liberty party — the germ of the 
 present Eepublican party. 
 
 In 1857 an edition of my complete poems, up to 
 that time, was published by Ticknor & Fields. " In 
 War Times " followed in 1864, and in 1865 " Snow- 
 Bound." In 1860 I was chosen a member of the 
 Electoral College of Massachusetts, and also in 1864. 
 I have been a member of the Board of Overseers of 
 Harvard College, and a Trustee of Brown University. 
 But while feeling, and willing to meet all the re- 
 sponsibilities of citizenship, and deeply interested in 
 questions which concern the welfare and honor of 
 the country, I have, as a rule, declined overtures for 
 acceptance of public stations. I have always taken 
 an active part in elections, but have not been willing 
 to add my own example to the greed of office. 
 
 I have been a member of the Society of Friends 
 by birthright, and by a settled conviction of the truth 
 of its principles and the importance of its testimonies, 
 while, at the same time, I have a kind feeling towards 
 all who are seeking, in different ways from mine, to 
 serve God and benefit their fellow-men. 
 
 Neither of my sisters are living. My dear mother, 
 to whom I owe much every way, died in 1858. My 
 brother is still living, in the city of Boston. My 
 niece, his daughter, who was with me for some years, 
 is now the wife of S. T. Pickard, Esq., of Portland, 
 
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 303 
 
 Maine. Since she left me I have spent much of my 
 time with esteemed relatives at Oak Knoll, Danvers, 
 Mass., though I still keep my homestead at Ames- 
 bury, where I am a voter. 
 
 My health was never robust ; I inherited from 
 both my parents a sensitive, nervous temperament ; 
 and one of my earliest recollections is of pain in the 
 head, from which I have suffered all my life. For 
 many years I have not been able to read or write for 
 more than half an hour at a time ; often not so long. 
 Of late, my hearing has been defective. But in many 
 ways I have been blest far beyond my deserving ; 
 and, grateful to the Divine Providence, I tranquilly 
 await the close of a life which has been longer, and 
 on the whole happier, than I had reason to expect, 
 although far different from that which I dreamed of 
 in youth. My experience confirms the words of old 
 time, that " it is not in man who walketh to direct 
 his steps." Claiming no exemption from the sins 
 and follies of our common humanity, I dare not com- 
 plain of their inevitable penalties. I have had to 
 learn renunciation and submission, and 
 
 " Knowing 
 That kindly Providence its care is showing 
 In the -withdrawal as in the bestowing, 
 Scarcely I dare for more or leas to pray." 
 Thy friend, 
 
 John G. Whittier. 
 
II 
 
 LIST OF WHITTIEE'S WEITINGS 
 
 [Separate editions of single short poems are omitted, as -well 
 as the successive editions, after 1849, of his Poems. Full 
 bibliographical material will be found in Foley's American 
 Authors and in Bierstadt's " Bibliography of Whittier " in the 
 Book Buyer for 1896.] 
 
 Legends of New England. Hartford, 1831. 
 
 The Literary Remains of John G. C. Brainard, with 
 a Sketch of his Life. Hartford, 1832. 
 
 [Anonymous.] Moll Pitcher, a Poem. Boston, 1832. 
 
 Justice and Expediency ; or Slavery considered with 
 a View to its Rightful and Effectual Remedy, Abo- 
 lition. Haverhill, 1833. 
 
 Mogg Megone, a Poem. Boston, 1836. 
 
 Views of Slavery and Emancipation ; from Society 
 in America. By Harriet Martineau. (With an 
 Introduction by Whittier.) New York, 1837. 
 
 Letters from John Quincy Adams to his Constituents 
 of the Twelfth Congressional District in Massa- 
 chusetts. (With Introductory Remarks by Whit- 
 tier.) Boston, 1837. 
 
 Poems written during the Progress of the Abolition 
 Question in the United States, between the Years 
 1830 and 1838. Boston, 1837. 
 
 [Anonymous.] Narrative of James Williams, an 
 
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 305 
 
 American Slave, who was for Several Years a 
 Driver on a Cotton Plantation in Alabama. New 
 York, 1838. 
 
 Poems. Philadelphia, 1838. 
 
 Moll Pitcher and The Minstrel Girl. Poems. Re- 
 vised Edition. Philadelphia, 1840. 
 
 Lays of my Home and Other Poems. Boston, 1843. 
 
 [Anonymous.] The Stranger in Lowell. Boston, 
 1845. 
 
 Voices of Freedom. Philadelphia, 1846. 
 
 The Supernaturalism of New England. By the au- 
 thor of The Stranger in Lowell. New York, 1847. 
 
 [Anonymous.] Leaves from Margaret Smith's 
 Journal in the Province of Massachusetts Bay. 
 1678-79. Boston, 1849. 
 
 Poems. Boston, 1849. 
 
 Old Portraits and Modern Sketches. Boston, 1850. 
 
 Songs of Labor and Other Poems. Boston, 1850. 
 
 The Chapel of the Hermits and Other Poems. Bos- 
 ton, 1853. 
 
 Literary Recreations and Miscellanies. Boston, 1854. 
 
 The Panorama and Other Poems. Boston, 1856. 
 
 Home Ballads and Poems. Boston, 1860. 
 
 The Patience of Hope. By the author of " A Pre- 
 sent Heaven" (Dora Greenwell). (With an In- 
 troduction by Whittier.) Boston, 1862. 
 
 In War Time and Other Poems. Boston, 1864. 
 
 National Lyrics. Boston, 1865. 
 
 Snow-Bound. A Winter Idyl. Boston, 1866. 
 
 The Tent on the Beach and Other Poems. Boston, 
 1867. 
 
306 APPENDIX 
 
 Among the Hills and Other Poems. Boston, 1869. 
 
 Ballads of New England. Boston, 1870. 
 
 Two Letters on the Present Aspect of the Society of 
 Friends. London, 1870. 
 
 Miriam and Other Poems. Boston, 1871^ 
 
 The Journal of John Woolman. (With an Intro- 
 duction by Whittier.) Boston, 1871. 
 
 The Pennsylvania Pilgrim and Other Poems. Bos- 
 ton, 1872. 
 
 [Edited.] Child Life : a Collection of Poems. Bos- 
 ton, 1872. 
 
 [Edited.] Child Life in Prose. Boston, 1874. 
 
 Hazel-Bloasoms. Boston, 1875. 
 
 Mabel Martin. A Harvest Idyl. Boston, 1876. 
 
 [Edited.] Songs of Three Centuries. Boston, 1876. 
 
 Indian Civilization : a Lecture by Stanley Pumphrey. 
 (With an Introduction by Whittier.) Philadelphia, 
 1877. 
 
 The Vision of Echard and Other Poems. Boston, 
 1878. 
 
 William Lloyd Garrison and his Times. By Oliver 
 Johnson. (With an Introduction by Whittier.) 
 Boston, 1880. 
 
 The King's Missive and Other Poems. Boston, 
 188L 
 
 Letters of Lydia Maria Child. (With a Biographical 
 Introduction by Whittier.) Boston, 1882. 
 
 The Bay of Seven Islands and Other Poems. Bos- 
 ton, 1883. 
 
 Saint Gregory's Guest and Recent Poems. Boston, 
 1886. 
 
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 307 
 
 "Writings (newly revised). Boston, 1888-89. 
 At Sandown. Boston, 1892. 
 
 Complete Poetical Works (including all poems col- 
 lected since the author's death). Boston, 1895. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abolition movement, its relation to 
 other reforms, 103 ; cauaea, 107 ; 
 Garrison and the "liberator,'* 11 ; 
 Whittier joins the movement, 
 120 ; fomidin^ of the American 
 Anti-Slavery Social^, 125 ; rapid 
 growth, 129 ; divisions in the 
 ranks, 131 ; the new organization, 
 135; continued growth, 184 ; begin- 
 nings of an anti-slavery party, 186; 
 differences of opinion as to polit- 
 ical action, 187 ; triumiph of the 
 cause, 255. 
 
 Adams, J.Q., 149, 158, 164. 
 
 American Anti-Slavery Society, 125, 
 134, 135, 162, 164, 256. 
 
 American and Foreign Anti-Slavery 
 Society, 176, 210. 
 
 " American and Foreign Anti- Slav- 
 ery Reporter," 210. 
 
 "American Manufacturer," 54. 
 
 " Among the Hills," 268. 
 
 " Amy 'Wentworth," 268. 
 
 " Annie and Bhoda," 267. 
 
 Arnold, Matthew, 267, 286. 
 
 " Barbara Frietchie," 262. 
 "Barefoot Boy, The," 235. 
 Beecher, H. W.,253. 
 " Benedicite," 234. 
 Bimey, J. G., 142. 
 Bradburn, George, 204. 
 Brainard, J. G. C, 84. 
 Browning, Bobert, 232, 238, 267. 
 Bryant, W. C, 1, 2, 4, 43, 93, 225. 
 Bums, Robert, 30, 34. 
 Byron, Lord, 49, 94. 
 
 " Cassandra Southwick," 236. 
 
 Channing, W. K., 131. 
 
 " Chapel of the Hermits, The," 230. 
 
 Chapman, Mrs. M. W., 132, 199. 
 
 Child, Mrs. L. M., 115, 122, 132, 199. 
 
 Claflin, Mrs. M. B., 286. 
 
 Clay, Henry, 57, 62, 63, 69, 77, 119, 
 
 153, 215. 
 CofJn, Joshua, 30, 128. 
 
 Coleridge, S. T., 94. 
 
 Cushing, Caleb, 74, 120, 148, 202. 
 
 " Demon Lover, The," 94. 
 Dinsmore, Robert, 31, 246. 
 ' ' Double-headed Snake of Newbury, 
 The," 236. 
 
 "Ein feate Burg ist unser Gott," 
 
 260. 
 " Emancipator, The," 142, 210. 
 Emerson, B. W., 2, 42, 93, 131, 194, 
 
 213, 226, 226, 247, 252, 285. 
 "Eaaei Transcript, The," 217. 
 Everett, Edward, 163, 211. 
 "ExUes, The,"236. 
 " Expostulation," 169. 
 
 Fields, J. T., 251. 
 Fields, Mra. Annie, 286. 
 "Fire Ship, The," 94. 
 "From Perugia," 232. 
 
 " Gameater, The," 80. 
 
 Garrison, W. L., 20, 36-40, 43, 60, 
 53. 54, 68, 64, 84, 111-122, 126, 130, 
 132-134, 166, 177, 184, 187-190, 
 194, 190, 197-199. 210, 214,265, 256. 
 
 " Garrison of Cape Ann, The," 236. 
 
 Gay, S. H.,201. 
 
 "Gazette," The Haverhill, 40, 43, 
 45, 47, 69, 60, 62, 75, 83, 119, 125, 
 163, 166. 
 
 Gibbona, Mrs. A. H., 199. 
 
 " Grace Greenwood," 250. 
 
 " Great Ipswich Fright, The," 247. 
 
 Grimk^, Angelina E., 146, 196. 
 
 Hale, J. P., 206. 
 
 Harriman, Edwin, 75. 
 
 Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 2, 3, 82, 93, 
 
 131, 225, 248, 252, 285. 
 Hayne, P. H., 286. 
 Hemana, Mra. F. D., 43, 99. 
 " Henchman, The," 269. 
 "Henry St. Clair," 80. 
 Higginaon, T. W., 194. 
 
310 
 
 INDEX 
 
 " History of Haverhill," 83. 
 Holmes, O. W., 3, 17, 42, 225, 249, 
 
 252, 286. 
 Hooper, Lucy, 148. 
 " Hunters of Men," The, 168. 
 Hutchinson, the, singers, 260. 
 
 " lohabod," 220. 
 Irring, Washington, 81. 
 
 " Justice and Expediency," 120. 
 
 Lamson, Stephen, 217. 
 
 Larcom, Lucy, 242, 271, 277, 281. 
 
 Law, Jonathan, 69, 73. 
 
 " Lays of My Home," 230. 
 
 " Legends of New England," 81, 99. 
 
 " Leaves from Margaret Smith's 
 
 Journal," 240, 244. 
 Leavitt, Joshua, 210. 
 "Liberator, The," 113, 163, 166, 167, 
 
 196-198, 210. 
 *' Literary Becreations and Miscel- 
 lanies," 240, 247. 
 Lloyd, Elizabeth, jr., 147. 
 Longfellow, H. W., 3, 4, 17, 42, 93, 
 
 102, 131, 166, 225, 247, 248, 252, 
 
 265, 266, 28S. 
 LoweU, J. R., 3, 4, 17, 42, 93, 131, 
 
 201, 221, 225, 229, 236, 238, 247, 
 
 252, 262, 272. 
 
 " Mabel Martin," 236. 
 " Maids of Attitash, The," 268. 
 Martineau, Harriet, 107, 164. 
 " Mary Garvin," 236. 
 Massachusetts Abolition Society, 
 
 135. 
 " Maasachusetts Abolitionist, The," 
 
 135. 
 Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society, 
 
 160, 162, 189. 
 *' Massachusetts to Virginia,'? IS, 
 
 220 222. 
 "Maud Miuller," 237. 
 " Memories," 234. 
 "Middlesex Standard, The," 175, 
 
 213, 240. 
 " Minstrel Girl, The," 98. 
 Mirick, B. L., 84. 
 *'MOgg Megone," 170. 
 " MoU Pitcher," 98. 
 Moore, Thomas, 36, 43. 
 Mott, Richard, 181. 
 " My Playmate," 269. 
 
 " Narrative of James "Williama," 165. 
 " National Anti-Slavery Standard," 
 
 227 229 
 "National Era," 176, 240, 246, 247. 
 
 " Nervous Man, The," 79. 
 
 New England Anti-Slavery Society, 
 
 114, 134, 142. 
 "New England Magazine," 79, 81. 
 " New England Review," 60, 62, 
 
 115. 
 "New England Superstitions," 87. 
 " New Year, The," 169. 
 
 " Old Portraits and Modern 
 
 Sketches," 240, 246. 
 " Opium Eater, The," 80. 
 
 " Panorama, The," 230. 
 Pennsylvania Anti-Slavery Society, 
 
 165, 167. 
 " Pennsylvania Freeman," 142, 165, 
 
 166, 198, 227. 
 " Pennsylvania Pilgrim, The," 266. 
 " Philanthropist, The (Boston)," 50, 
 
 53, 54, 80. 
 Phillips, Wendell, 132, 163, 188, 253. 
 Pickard, S. T., 84, 150, 282. 
 Poe, B. A., 93, 102. 
 " Poems," 167. 
 " Poems of Adrian," 47. 
 " Poems written during the Progress 
 
 of the Abolition Question," 167. 
 Prentice, G. D., 60, 62, 96. 
 " Prophecy of Samuel Sewall, The," 
 
 Quincy, Edmund, 132. 
 
 Rogers, N. P., 139, 199, 246. 
 Russ, Cornelia, 66. 
 
 Scott, Sir Walter, 98, 170. 
 
 " Sea Dream, A," 269. 
 
 Sewall, S. E., 191. 
 
 Sigourney, Mrs. L. H., 66, 71, 73, 81, 
 91, 100. 
 
 " Skipper Ireson's Ride," 237. 
 
 "Slave Ships, The," 168. 
 
 Smith, Qerrit, 133. 
 
 Snelling, Joseph, 96. 
 
 " Snow-Bound," 270. 
 
 " Song of the Vermonters, The," 
 18, 49, 100. 
 
 Stanton, H. B., 133, 135, 150. 
 
 "Star of Bethlehem, The," 100. 
 
 "Stranger in Lowell, The," 240, 
 247. 
 
 Sturge, Joseph, 174, 191, 206, 211. 
 
 Sumner, Charles, 186, 192, 194, 206, 
 207, 252, 253, 267-259, 285. 
 
 " Bupernaturalism in New Eng- 
 land," 240, 242, 247. 
 
 " Swan Song of Parson Avery, The," 
 
INDEX 
 
 311 
 
 Tappan, Lewis, 124. 
 
 Taylor, Bayard, 248, 253, 285. 
 
 ^'TeUing the Beea," 237. 
 
 Tennyson, Alfred, 238, 267. 
 
 " Teacas," 191. 
 
 Thayer, A. W., 31, 40, 45-17, 50, 75, 
 
 76. 
 Thompson, George, 130, 139. 
 Thoreau, H. D., 15, 42, 194. 
 " Thy WiU be Done," 260. 
 " To my Old Schoolmaster," 235. 
 
 " Vaudois Teacher, The," 100, 168. 
 *' Views of Slavery and Emancipa- 
 tion," 164. 
 " Voices of Freedom," 230. 
 
 Webster, Daniel, 10, 220. 
 
 Weld, T. D., 142, 146. 
 
 Whipple, E. P., 285. 
 
 Whitman, Walt, 262. 
 
 Whittier, Elizabeth H., 9, 262. 
 
 Whittier, John G., birth, 1; charac- 
 teristic Now England product, 2 ; 
 ancestry, 4; environment of his 
 boyhood, 11 ; the homestead, 12 ; 
 farming life, 16; principles ab-i 
 sorbed in boyhood, 17; farm work, 
 25; early education, 26 _; visit to 
 Boston, 27 ; reading, 28; introduc- 
 tion to Bums, 30; influence of 
 Bums, 34 ; first verses, 34 ; slip- 
 per-making, 40; attends Haverhill 
 Academy, 41 ; youthful verses, 42 ; 
 increasing reputation, 46 ; "Poems 
 of Adrian," 47; Byronic verses, 
 48 ; first good verses, 49 ; choosing 
 a vocation, 50 ; entering thj world, 
 53 ; editor of the " Am«pican Man- 
 ufacturer," 54 ; leisure in Bos- 
 ton, 58; returned to Haverhill, 
 59; edited Haverhill "Gazette," 
 59; acquaintance with George D. 
 Prentice, 60 ; edits "New England 
 Review," G2 ; attitude toward re- 
 form, 64; returned to Haverhill, 
 65 ; associations in Hartford, 65 ; 
 illness and despondency, 69; po- 
 litical ambitions, 74 ; experiments 
 in prose and verse, 78; reflective 
 sketches, 79 ; moral tales, 80 ; sen- 
 timental tales and tales of wonder, 
 81 ; "Legends of New England," 
 81 ; Mirick's " History of Haver- 
 hill," 83; introduction to edition 
 of Brainard's poems, 84; "New 
 England Superstitions," 87; devel- 
 
 opment of his verse, 88 ; his Uter- 
 ary ambition typical, ^ ; poems 
 written under the influence of 
 Byron, 94; of Scott and Mrs. 
 Hemans, 99 ; natural leaning to- 
 ward abolitionism, 115; renewed 
 relations with Garrison, 116 ; joins 
 the abolition movement, 120 ; 
 "Justice and Expediency," 122; 
 shared in the founding of tlie 
 American Anti-Slavery Society, 
 ] 25 ; his description of the con- 
 vention, 126; the " new organiza- 
 tion," 133 ; devotion to the cause, 
 136 ; member of the Legislature, 
 139 ; aids George Thompson, 139 ; 
 edited Haverhill "Gazette," 142; 
 in New York as a secretary of the 
 American Anti-Slavery Society, 
 142; edited " Pennsylvania Free- 
 man," 142; forced by illness to 
 return home, 143 ; moved to Ames- 
 bury, 144 ; personal relations with 
 reformers, 144 ; services to the 
 cause as a politician, 148 ; as a 
 journalist, 163 ; as a poet, 166 ; 
 " Mogg Megone," 170 ; ill health, 
 174 ; poverty, 176 ; other limita- 
 tions, 177 ; his self-centred mind, 
 179 ; his religious faith, 180 ; his 
 devotion to this cause, 183; tem- 
 porary desire for disunion, 190; 
 worked for the building up of an 
 anti-slavery party, 191 ; differ- 
 ences of opinion among the aboli- 
 tionists and Whittier's position, 
 195 ; services for abolition through 
 the third party, 202 ; services as a 
 journalist, 210 ; as a poet, 219 ; 
 generally regarded only as an 
 abolitionist poet, 228; lines of 
 development of his verse, 230; 
 his prose, 239 ; pressure of poverty 
 relaxed, 251 ; his few intimate 
 friends, 252 ; decreasing part in 
 politics, 257 ; his war poems, 
 259 ; late narrative poems, 265 ; 
 of reminiscence, 268 ; religious, 
 273 ; last years, 280; death, 288 ; 
 his personality, 289 ; criticism, 
 291. 
 
 Willis, N. P., 59, 93, 102. 
 
 Wilson, Henry, 206. 
 
 Wright, Elizur, 122, 127, 133, 136, 
 142. 
 
 " Yankee Girl, The," 168. 
 
ElectrotyPed and printed 6y H. O. Houghton <&* Co, 
 Cambridge, Mass.y U.S. A. 
 
A LIST OF THE WORKS 
 
 OF 
 
 3(ot)n #reenleaf WUttin 
 
Writings of 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
 
 \T0 edition of the Poetical and Prose Writings of John 
 
 JL V Greenleaf Whittier is complete and authorized which does 
 
 not bear the imprint of Houghton, Mifflin &> Company. 
 
 COMPLETE WORKS 
 
 Riverside Edition. In 7 volumes. 
 
 POETR V 
 
 1. Narrative and Legendary Poems. 
 
 2. Poems of Nature ; Poems Subjective and Remi- 
 
 niscent; Religious Poems. 
 
 3. Anti-Slavery ; Songs of Lrabor and Reform. 
 
 4. Personal Poems ; Occasional Poems ; Tent on 
 
 the Beach ; Appendix. 
 
 PROSE 
 
 1. Margaret Smith's Journal ; Tales and Sketches. 
 
 2. Old Portraits and Modern Sketches; Personal 
 
 Sketches and Tributes ; Historical Papers. 
 
 3. The Conflict with Slavery; Politics and Re- 
 
 form ; The Inner Life ; Criticism. 
 
 Each volume, crown 8vo, gilt top ; the set, J10.50. With 
 " Life of Whittier " (2 vols.) by Samuel T. Pickard, 
 9 vols., $14.50. 
 
PROSE WORKS 
 
 Riverside Edition. With Notes by the Author, and etched 
 Portrait. 3 vols, crown 8vo, gilt top, $4.50. 
 
 POEMS 
 
 Riverside Edition. With Portraits, Notes, etc. 4 vols., 
 crown 8vo, gilt top, $6.00. 
 
 Handy- Volume Edition. With Portraits, and a View of 
 Whittier's Oak Knoll Home. 4 vols., i6mo, gilt top, 
 in cloth box, $5.00. Bound in full, flexible leather, 
 
 J8.00. 
 
 Cambridge Edition. With a Biographical Sketch, Notes, 
 Index to Titles and First Lines, a Portrait, and an 
 engraving of Whittier's Araesbury Home. Large 
 crown 8vo, gilt top, $2.00. 
 
 Library Edition. With Portrait and 15 full-page Photo- 
 gravures. 8vo, gilt top, $2.50. 
 
 Household Edition. With Portrait and Illustrations. 
 Crown 8vo, $1.50. 
 
 Cabinet Edition. From new plates, with numbered lines, 
 and Portrait. i6mo, gilt top, $1.00. 
 
 SEPARATE POEMS 
 
 Snow-Bound. A Winter Idyl. Holiday Edition. With 
 eight Photogravures and Portrait. i6mo, gilt top. 
 
 The Tent on the Beach. Holiday Edition. With ru- 
 bricated Initials and 12 full-page Photogravure Illus- 
 trations by Charles H. Woodbury and Marcia O. 
 Woodbury. i2mo, gilt top, ^1.50. 
 
 At Sundown. With Portrait and 8 Photogravures. 
 i6mo, gilt top, $1.50. 
 
 Legends and Lyrics. i6mo, gilt top, 75 cents. 
 
COMPILATIONS 
 
 Birthday Book. With Portrait and 12 Illustrations. 
 i8mo, jSi.oo. 
 
 Calendar Book. 32010, parchment-paper, 2c^ cents. 
 
 Year Book. With Portrait. i8mo, Sfi.oo. 
 
 Text and Verse. For Every Day in the Year. Scrip- 
 ture Passages and Parallel Selections from Whit- 
 tier's Writings. 32mo, 75 cents. 
 
 EDITED BY MR. WHITTIER 
 
 Songs of Three Centuries. Library Edition. With 
 40 full-page Illustrations. 8vo, gilt top, $2.50. 
 
 Household Edition. Much enlarged. Crown 8vo, ^1.50. 
 
 Child-Life. A Collection of Poems for and about 
 
 Children. Finely Illustrated. Crown Bvo, gilt top, 
 
 $2.00. 
 
 Child-Life in Prose. A Volume of Stories, Fancies, 
 and Memories of Child-Life. Finely Illustrated 
 Crown Bvo, gilt top, $2.00. 
 
 Many of the above editions may be had in leather 
 bindings of various styles. 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & COMPANY 
 4 Park Street, Boston. 85 Fifth Ave., New York