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MEMOIR

MISS HANNAH ADAMS

WRITTEN BY HERSELF.

ADDITIONAL NOTICES.

BY A FRIEND.

BOSTON:
PUBLISHED BY GRAY AND BOWEN.
1832.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1832,
By Gray & Bowen,
in the Clerk's office of the District Court of Massachusetts.

PRINTED BY I. R. B U T T S....B O S T 0 N

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INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

The autobiography of Miss Adams is written, with
the modesty and unobtrusiveness which distinguished
her character. It appears as if composed reluctantly,
under the feeling that the community could hardly
care to know anything about the struggles, disappoint
ments, hopes and purposes of an individual so hum
ble as herself. She undertook the task at the request
of some of her friends, who thought that the cir
cumstances of her life, and the traits of her charac
ter, well deserved to be remembered. But her
principal motive in executing it, was to leave it as a
legacy, which she hoped might be of some small'
benefit to an aged and very infirm sister, to whose
comfort she had devoted her little savings for many
years. It presents a lithographic drawing of herself,
which will recall the features of her mind to those
who knew her, and give some idea of them to those
who did not.
The continuation of her life is by a lady, one of

those friends whose kindness she has acknowledged
with warm gratitude towards the conclusion of her
own narrative. It could not have been confided to
better hands. The discrimination and delicacy with
which the retiring virtues, and nicer shades of her
character are delineated and produced, will explain
to those who did not know her, what was the charm
that drew genius and wealth, and youth and beauty,
to minister with so much interest to the infirmities of
a poor old woman.
Miss Adams was indeed deserving of such interest.
Her life is, in many respects, full of instruction.
Among those who have overcome great and peculiar
difficulties in the pursuit of knowledge, she holds a
distinguished place. She became a literary woman,
when literature was a rare accomplishment in our
country.' She has produced one work, her History
of Religions, which is the best of its kind, eminent
for its great impartiality. But it Avas not merely for
her powers of mind that she was remarkable, but for
her warm affections, her glow of gratitude, and her
childlike simplicity. It is honorable to the commu
nity in which she lived, that an individual, destitute
as she was of all adventitious claims to distinction,
should have been properly estimated and respected.
This note is prefixed by the gentlemen to whom
she left the charge of publishing her manuscript.
A. N.
J. T.

CHAPTER I.
Being arrived at an age in which I cannot
reasonably expect my life will be long con
tinued, at the request of a highly esteem
ed friend I am about to give a concise out
line of my past life ; notwithstanding I am
sensible that a retrospect of past errors, faults
and misfortunes, will be exceedingly painful.
I was born in Medfield, a country town
about eighteen miles from Boston. My father
early imbibed a love of literature, and pre
pared to enter the university. But as his
constitution then appeared to be very infirm,
and he was an only son, his parents were
strenuously opposed to his leaving ihem.
Accordingly, to his inexpressible disappoint
ment, he was obliged to settle upon their large
farm, without a suitable knowledge of, or
taste for, agricultural pursuits. This induc-
1

2 LIFE of
ed him to open a shop, for the sale, principal
ly, of English Goods and Books. His taste
for reading continued unabated till his death,
which took place at the advanced age of
eightyeight years.
From my infancy I had a feeble constitu
tion ; in particular, an extreme weakness
and irritability in my nervous system. Hence
I can recollect uneasiness and pain previous
to any pleasurable sensations. My mother
was an excellent woman, and deservedly es
teemed and beloved ; but as her own health
was delicate, and she possessed great tender
ness and sensibility, I was educated in all the
habits of debilitating softness, which probably
added to my constitutional want of bodily
and mental firmness.
My father's circumstances then appeared
affluent, and it was not supposed I should be
reduced to the necessity of supporting my
self by my own exertions. Partly from ill
health, and an early singularity of taste, 1
took no pleasure in the amusements to
which children are generally much attached.
My health did not even admit of attending

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 3
school with the children in the neighborhood
where I resided. The country schools, at
that time, were kept but a few months in
the year, and all that was then taught in
them was reading, writing and arithmetic.
In the summer, the children were instructed
by females in reading, sewing, and other
kinds of work. The books chiefly made use
of were the Bible, and Psalter. Those who
have had the advantages of receiving the ru
diments of their education at the schools of
the present day, can scarcely form an ade
quate idea of the contrast between them, and
those of an earlier age ; and of the great im
provements which have been made even in
the common country schools. The disad
vantages of my early education I have expe
rienced during life ; and, among various oth
ers, the acquiring a very faulty pronunciation ;
a habit contracted so early, that I cannot
wholly rectify it in later years.
In my early years I was extremely timid,
and averse from appearing in company. In
deed, I found but few with whom I could
happily associate, My life, however, was

4 LIFE OF
not devoid of enjoyment. The first strong
propensity of my mind which I can recollect,
was an ardent curiosity, and desire to acquire
knowledge. I remember that my first ideaof
the happiness of Heaven was, of a place
where we should find our thirstfor knowledge
fully gratified. From my predominant taste
I was induced to apply to reading, and as my
father had a considerable library, I was en
abled to gratify my inclination. I read with
avidity a variety of books, previously to
my mind's being sufficiently matured, and
strengthened, to make a proper selection. I
was passionately fond of novels ; and, as I
lived in a state of seclusion, I acquired false
ideas of life. The ideal world which my
imagination formed was very different from
the real. My passions were naturally strong,
and this kind of reading heightened my sen
sibility, by calling it forth to realize scenes
of imaginary distress. I was also an enthu
siastic admirer of poetry ; and as my memory,
at an early period, was very tenacious, I
committed much of the writings of my favor
ite poets to memory, such as Milton, Thorn-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 5
son, Young, &c. I did not, however, neglect
the study of history and biography, in each
of which kind of reading I found an inexhausti
ble fund to feast my mind, and gratify my cu
riosity. Another source of my enjoyments in early
life was an ardent admirati n of the beau
ties of nature. This enthusiasm was height
ened by the glowing descriptions of poetic
writers, and I entered into all their feelings.
This taste has continued through life. At the
present time, when age and experience have
in some measure repressed the warmth of my
feelings, and while I am now writing, I
should be more delighted with beautiful ru
ral prospects, and fine flowers, than when in
early life I used to be enraptured with con
templating the sublime and beautiful in the
works of creation.
My early life was diversified with few
events, and those of a painful nature. The
loss of my excellent mother, which happen
ed when I had reached my tenth year, was
the first severe trial I was called to suffer.
When her death took place, I was at an age
1*

LIFE OF

when maternal direction is of the greatest
importance, particularly in the education of
daughters. Soon after, I was bereaved of
an aunt, who was attached to me with al
most maternal fondness. A few years after,
my father failed in trade, in consequence of
which I was reduced to poverty, with a con
stitution and early habits which appeared in
vincible obstacles to my supporting myself
by my own exertions. Instead of that gaye-
ty, which is often attendant on youth, I was
early accustomed to scenes of melancholy
and distress ; and every misfortune was en
hanced by a radical want of health, and firm
ness of mind. My life passed in seclusion,
with gloomy prospects before me, and sur
rounded with various perplexities from which
I could not extricate myself. The solitude
in which I lived was, however, to me, pre
ferable to society in general ; and to that,
and to my natural singularity, I must impute
that awkwardness of manners, of which I
never could divest myself at an advanced pe
riod of life. A consciousness of this awkward
ness produced a dislike to the company of

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 7
strangers. Those who have been accustom
ed to general society when young, can scarce
ly imagine the trembling timidity I felt, when
introduced to my superiors in circumstances
and education. I, however, enjoyed society
upon a small scale. I had a few dear friends,
(for novels had taught me to be very roman
tic,) who were chiefly in indigent circumstan
ces, and like myself had imbibed a taste for
reading, and were particularly fond of poet
ry and novels. Most of them wrote verses,
which were read and admired by the whole
little circle. Our mutual love of literature,
want of fortune, and indifference to the so
ciety of those whose minds were wholly un
cultivated, served to cement a union between
us, which was interrupted only by the remov
al, of the parties to distant places, and dis
solved only by their death. Yet I soon
experienced this melancholy change. One
after another became victims to the King of
Terrors, till our little society was greatly
diminished ; and I deeply felt these bereave
ments which were irreparable.
Still, however, I was blessed with a sister of

8 LIFE OF
similar taste and sentiments, but very dif
ferent in her disposition. I was warm and ir
ritable in my temper ; she, placid and even.
I was fluctuating and undecided ; she, steady
and judicious. I was extremely timid ; she
blended softness with courage and fortitude.
I was inclined to be melancholy, though
sometimes in high spirits ; she was uniform
ly serene and cheerful. I placed the strong
est reliance upon her judgment, and as she
was older than myself, she teemed the ma
ternal friend, as well as the best of sisters.
In short, ' she was my guide, my friend, my
earthly a//.'
As I was too feeble to engage in any la
borious employments, I found considerable
leisure for reading ; and as my happiness
chiefly consisted in literary pursuits, I was
very desirous of learning the rudiments of Lat
in, Greek, geography, and logic. Some gen
tlemen who boarded at my father's offered
to instruct me in these branches of learning
gratis, and I pursued these studies with in
describable pleasure and avidity. I still
however, sensibly felt the want of a more sys-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 9
tematic education, and those advantages which
females enjoy in the present day. Yet as I
always read with great rapidity, perhaps
few of my sex have perused more books
at the age of twenty than I had. Yet
my reading was very desultory, and novels
engaged too much of my attention. Though
my seclusion from the world preserved me'
from many temptations which are incident
to young people, I was perhaps more expos
ed to errors of the understanding, than those
who in early life have mixed more with the
world. Time and experience have led me
to see the falsity of many of my early opin
ions, and ideas, and made me sensible that
they were the source of a large share of
the misfortunes of my following life.

10 LIFE OF

CHAPTER II.
Until I had attained the twentieth year
of my age, my reading had chiefly consisted
of works of imagination and feeling ; such as
novels and poetry. Even the religious works
I perused were chiefly devotional poetry, and
such works as Mrs Bowe's DevoutExercises,
and the lives of persons who were eminent
ly distinguished for their piety. I was al
most a stranger to controversial works, and
had never examined the points in dispute be
tween different denominations of Christians.
But at length an incident in my life gave a
different turn to my literary pursuit.
While I was engaged in learning Latin and
Greek, one of the gentlemen who taught me
had by him a small manuscript from Brough-
ton's Dictionary, giving an account of Armin-
ians, Calvinists, and several other denomina
tions which were most common. This awak
ened my curiosity, and I assiduously engag-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 11
ed myself in perusing all the books which I
could obtain, which gave an account of the
various sentiments described. I soon became
disgusted with the want of candor in the
authors I consulted, in giving the most unfa
vorable descriptions of the denominations
they disliked, and applying to them the names
of heretics, fanatics, enth usiasts, 8tc. I there
fore formed a plan for myself, made a blank
book, and wrote rules for transcribing, and
adding to, my compilation. But as I was
stimulated to proceed only by curiosity, and
never had an idea of deriving any profit from
it, the compilation went on but slowly, though
I was pressed by necessity to make every exer
tion in my power for my immediate support.
During the American revolutionary war, I
learned to weave bobbin lace, which was then
saleable, and much more profitable to me than
spinning, sewing or knitting, which had pre
viously been my employment. At this pe
riod I found but little time for literary pur
suits. But at the termination of the Amer
ican war, this resource failed, and I was again
left in a destitute situation. My health did

12 LIFE OF
not admit of my teaching a school, and I
was glad to avail myself of every opportu
nity of taking any kind of work which I
could do, though the profit was very small,
and inadequate to my support. One pleas
ing event occurred in this gloomy period. I
had the satisfaction of teaching the rudiments
of Latin and Greek to three young gentle
men, who resided in the vicinity. This was
some advantage to me. Besides, it was a
pleasant amusement. One of these young
gentlemen was the Bev. Mr Clark, of Norton,
who pursued his studies with me till he en
tered Cambridge University, and has contin
ued his friendship for me during life ; and
his uniform excellent character I have ever
highly appreciated.
The difficulty of taking in such kinds of
work as I could do, for I was not, like my
sister, ingenious in all kinds of needle work,
induced me, as the last resort, to attend to my
manuscript, withtle faint hope that it might
be printed, and afford me some little ad
vantage. I was far from being sanguine as
to the result, even if I accomplished this ob-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS, 13
ject, I had been in the habit of employing
myself very diligently for trifling profits, and
those who are in easy circumstances cannot
form an adequate idea of the lively satisfac
tion I felt, when I could procure any work
by which I could earn a few shillings. This
kind of enjoyment, which Providence has
given to the poor, appears intended to soften
the many difficulties in their situation.
I was sensible, that, in printing my manu
script, I had various obstacles to encounter.
It was difficult to procure proper materials
for the work in my sequestered abode. I felt
that my ignorance of the world, and little
acquaintance with business, would put me in
the power of every printer to whom I might
apply. I, however, resumed my compilation
on an enlarged scale, which included a few
of the reasons which the various denomina
tions give in defence of their different reli
gious systems. Stimulated by an ardent
curiosity, I ente/ed into the vast field of
religious controversy, for which my early
reading had ill prepared me. I perused all
the controversial works I could possibly obtain
2

14 LIFE OF
with the utmost attention, in order to abridge
what appeared to me the most plausible ar
guments for every denomination. As I read
controversy with a mind naturally wanting
in firmness and decision, and without that
pertinacity which blunts the force of argu
ments which are opposed to the tenets we
have once imbibed, I suffered extremely from
mental indecision, while perusing the various
and contradictory arguments adduced by men
of piety and learning in defence of their re
spective religious systems. Sometimes my
mind was so strongly excited, that extreme
feeling obliged me for a time to lay aside my
employment. Notwithstanding it required
much reading to perform my task, the pain
ful feelings I suffered while preparing my
work for the press far outweighed all the
other labor. Reading much religious con
troversy must be extremely trying to a female,
whose mind, instead of being strengthened
by those studies which exercise the judg
ment, and give stability to the character, is
debilitated by reading romances and novels,
which are addressed to the fancy and imagi-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 15
nation, and are calculated to heighten the
feelings. After my View of Religions was pre
pared for the press, the difficulty still remain
ed of finding any printer willing and able to
print it without money immediately paid.
But at length, after various perplexities, this
compilation was put to the press in 1784.
The profit to myself was very small ; for, as
it might well have been expected from my
father's inexperience in the business of book
making, he was completely duped by the
printer, in making the bargain. After being
at the trouble of procuring upwards of four
hundred subscribers, all the compensation 1
was able to obtain, was only fifty books ; and
I was obliged to find a sale for them, after
the printer, (whose name, out of respect to
his descendants, I omit to mention,) had re
ceived all the subscription money. As my
books sold very well, the printer must have
made something handsome by the publica
tion. The effect of reading so much reli
gious controversy, which had been very

16 LIFE OF
trying to my mind, was extremely prejudicial
to my health, and introduced a train of the
most painful nervous complaints. I was at
length brought so low, that the physician who
attended me supposed I was in a decline.
But after a tedious interval of extreme suffer
ing, I began gradually to recover ; and after
wards found my complaints were increased,
by following the injudicious advice of the
physician who attended me. To the skill
and attention of my friend Dr Mann, former
ly of Wrentham, I owe, under Heaven, the
preservation of my life at this period.
Soon after I began to recover, I received a
letter from the printer of my View of Reli
gions, informing me that he had sold the
greatest part of the edition, and was about
to reprint it; and requesting me to inform him
if I wished to make any additions to my
work. As I had the precaution to secure the
copy- right, agreeably to the law passed in
Massachusetts, 1783, I returned a laconic
answer, forbidding him to reprint it ; and
he finally relinquished the design.
The information, that the first edition of

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 17
my View of Religions was sold, gave me the
idea of reprinting it for my own benefit.
But as I was entirely destitute of pecuniary
resources, ignorant of the world, incapable of
conducting business, and precluded from al
most all intercourse with persons of literature
and information, and consequently destitute
of friends who were able and willing to assist
me, the execution of the plan was ex
tremely difficult. Even the few friends I
had gained at that time supposed the disad
vantages in my situation too great to encour
age my undertaking. Instead of assisting
me, they considered my plan as chimerical,
and depressed my hopes and discouraged my
exertions. While I was struggling with embarrass
ments and difficulties, I was involved in the
deepest affliction by jhe death of the belov
ed sister, whom I mentioned in the preced
ing Chapter. I then experienced the keen
est anguish the human heart can feel in los
ing a friend.
Dearer than life, or aught below the skies,
The bright ideas and romantic schemes
2*

18 LIFE OF
Of perfect love, and friendship, fancy paints,
In her I realized.
To describe the excess of my grief on this
occasion would be altogether impossible.
Those, only, who have formed the highest
ideas of friendship, and have considered then-
earthly happiness as dependent upon the life
of one beloved object, on whose judgment
they relied, and in whom they found com
fort and support in every difficulty and af
fliction, can form an adequate idea of what
I felt on this occasion ; which led me to ex
claim, And is she dead ! My life, my all is gone.
The world's a desert. Nothing now on earth
Can yield me joy, or comfort.
The death of my beloved sister made me
feel almost alone in the world. Our joys
and sorrows, and all, our interests were so
closely blended, that I nearly identified her
existence with my own. Everything ap
peared gloomy in my situation. My health
was feeble ; I was entirely destitute of prop
erty ; my father's circumstances were very
low ; and I had no other relation or friend

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 19
from whom I might' expect to derive assis
tance. But notwithstanding all the difficul
ties in my situation, I determined to use every
possible exertion to help myself; considering
that, if I was unsucessful in attempting to
extricate myself from poverty, my efforts
would awaken the activity of my mind, and
preserve me from sinking under the weight
of affliction I sustained in losing the best of
sisters. It was, perhaps, a happy circum
stance, that necessity stimulated me to ex
ertion in this most gloomy period of my ex
istence. After I began to prepare the additions to
my View of Religions, I found it required a
great effort to detach my mind from the re
collection of past sufferings, and force my
self to that mental exertion which is natur
ally so congenial to my mind. At length,
however, I completed the task of preparing
my work for the press. I had previously,
in 1790, sent a petition to Congress, which
was presented by the late Fisher Ames,
Esq. for a general law to be passed, to
secure to authors the copy-right of their pub-

20 LIFE OF
lications. I now applied to a large number
of printers to know on what terms they
would publish my work. But, though I
wrote nearly the same letter to all, consist
ing of a few direct questions, their answers
were generally various, prolix, and ambig
uous. I at length concluded to accept the terms
of one of the printers to whom I applied,
who offered me one hundred dollars in books,
for an edition of one thousand copies. When
I went to Boston for this purpose, a friend
of mine introduced me to the Rev. Mr Free
man, whom I had only once before seen :
but I was well apprised of his benevolent
character, which I found more than realized
the ideas which I had formed of it from re
port. I shall ever recollect the generous in
terest he took in my affairs, with the most
lively gratitude. He removed my perplex
ity, by transacting the business with the
printer. By his advice, a subscription pa
per was published ; and I soon found the ben
efit of his patronage, in procuring a large
number of subscribers, and concluding an

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 21
advantageous bargain for me with Mr Fol
som, the printer. The second edition was
published in 1791; and the emolument I de
rived from it not only placed me in a com
fortable situation, but enabled me to pay the
debts I had contracted during mine and my
sister's illness, and to put out a small sum
upon interest.

22 LIFE OF

CHAPTER III.
Encouraged and animated by this suc
cess, I soon formed the design of engaging
in another publication, and set myself to
choose a subject. It was poverty, not am
bition, or vanity, that first induced me to
become an author, or rather a compiler. But
I now formed the flattering idea, that I might
not only help myself, but benefit the public.
With this view, I engaged in waiting a Sum
mary History of New England. I selected
this subject, rather for public utility, than for
my own gratification. My object was to
render my compilation useful to those in
early life, who had not time or opportunity
to peruse the large mass of materials, which,
previously to my compilation, lay scattered
in many publications. I knew the work
would require much reading upon dry sub
jects, such as ancient news prints, state pa
pers, &c. But I wrote for a bare subsis-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 23
tence, and never wished to gain anything
from the public which I had not at least
earned by laborious investigation. I also
considered, that attention to such an antipo-
etical subject would have a tendency to keep
my mind in a more healthy state, than the pe
rusal of works which are calculated to excite
the feelings. I therefore resolved to fix my
attention by investigating simple facts, and
by relinquishing to a great extent the reading
works. of taste and imagination.
When I compiled this work, there was not
any history of New England extant, except
Mather's Ma'gnalia, and Neale's History ;
and these extended only to an early period in
the annals of our country. If there had been
only one work, which reached to the accep
tance of the Federal constitution, my task
had been far less laborious. There was no
authentic account of Rhode Island, except
that of Callender's. This induced me to
spend some time in Providence, in order to
examine the Records in the Secretary's office.
The perusal of old manuscripts, which were
damaged by time, was painful to my eyes ;

24 life of
but as they were naturally strong, I did not
for some time perceive the injury I suffered
from the task.
After I returned from Providence, I attend
ed to my compilation with unremitting dili
gence, and hoped not only to obtain a tem
porary support, but to make a small provis
ion for future subsistence. Stimulated by
these sanguine views, I wrote early and late
during one winter, and expected to put my
work to the press the ensuing spring. But
how vain were all these pleasing anticipa
tions ! A new misfortune arrested my pro
gress, and made me feel my entire depen
dence upon divine Providence. I found my
sight suddenly fail to that degree, that I was
obliged to lay aside reading, writing, and eve
ry employment which required the use of my
eyes. In this distressed situation, I consult
ed a number of physicians ; and their prescrip
tions rather increased, than diminished my
complaints. The gloomy apprehension of
being totally deprived of my sight was dis
tressing beyond description. I not only
anticipated the misfortune of being obliged

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 25
forever to relinquish those literary pursuits
which had constituted so much of my enjoy
ment during life, and was at this time my
only resource for a subsistence, but as I had
from my earliest years been an enthusiastic
admirer of the beauties of nature, I felt the
most painful sensation in reflecting that the
time might arrive, when
' With the year
Seasons return, but not to me return
Day, or the sweet approach of eve or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer rose. '
At length, by the advice of a respectable
friend, I applied to Dr Jeffries ; and by assid
uously following his prescriptions for about
two years, I partially recovered my sight.
For the encouragement of those who are
troubled with similar complaints, I would
mention, that when I first consulted the doc
tor, he had not any expectation my eyes would
recover so as to enable me to make the use
of them I have since done. But by apply
ing laudanum and sea water several times in
the course of the day, for two years, I re
covered so far as to resume my studies ; and
3

26 LIFE OF
by employing an amanuensis to assist me in
transcribing my manuscript, I was enabled to
print the work in 1799. Previously to put
ting the copy to the press, I consulted all the
living authors, and showed them the use I
had made of their works in my compilation,
and they did not make any objection. As
my eyes were still weak, I could not bestow
the same attention in condensing the last
part of my History, as the first ; and conse
quently the History of the American Revo
lution was much more prolix than I originally
intended. In giving an account of the war,
my ignorance of military terms rendered it
necessary to transcribe more from Dr Ram
say's History, than I had done in any other
part of the work. I therefore wrote an apol
ogy to the doctor, and had the satisfaction of
receiving in return a very interesting letter
from Mrs Ramsay, expressing her approba
tion of my work, and inclosing a bill of ten
dollars. Before my eyes failed, I had sent
out a subscription paper ; but afterward, the
idea that I never should be able to complete
the compilation, induced me to drop it ; and

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 27
I was obliged to publish the work almost
entirely at my own expense. The printers
were in low circumstances, and required pay
ment before I could dispose of the books.
I was therefore obliged to borrow a sum of
money to defray the expenses of the work,
which, as it was printed on very good paper,
were large, and I derived but little profit
from my labor.
My next publication was the third edition
of my View of Religions, to which I made
the addition of a hundred pages. The
Rev. Mr Freeman, who continued his kind
attentions, made the bargain for me with the
printer, by which I was entitled to receive
five hundred dollars in yearly payments, for
an edition of two thousand copies. This
relieved me from the embarrassments in
which I was involved by printing my History
of New England at my own expense. As
my eyes still continued too weak to engage
in any new laborious work, I determined to
wait till a large part of my History of New
England was sold ; and then, if my life con
tinued, to abridge it for the use of schools.

28 LIFE OF
In the meantime, however, I set about
writing a concise View of the Christian Re
ligion, selected from the writings of eminent
laymen. I wrote with difficulty, as my eyes
were still very weak ; but I wished to exert
myself as much as possible to be useful, and to
gain a subsistence. Though attention to reli
gious controversy had led me to feel undecid
ed on some disputed points, of which perhaps
Christians of equal piety form different opin
ions, my conviction of the truth of divine rev
elation, instead of being weakened by all my
researches, was strengthened and confirmed ;
and I wished to make a public declaration of
my sentiments on this important subject. I
found it difficult to procure proper materials
for the work, as I was utterly unable to pur
chase books. A considerable part of this
compilation, as well as the additions to the
third edition of my View of Religions, was
written in booksellers' shops. I went to
make visits in Boston, in order to consult
books in this way, which it was impossible
for me to buy, or borrow. I desire, however,
to recognise with gratitude the attention of

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 29
my kind father, who took pains that I should
have the benefit of all books which he could
procure, and assisted me greatly in disposing
of my works. When I had completed my
compilation, I found the printers and book
sellers unwilling to purchase the copy, be
cause much had been written on the subject,
and these publications were unsaleable. At
length, in 1804, 1 agreed with a printer to ex
ecute the work, upon the small consideration
of receiving only one hundred dollars in
books. The tenor of my life at this time was very
monotonous. It was enlivened, however, by
gleams of happiness, from the society of a
few friends, and the pleasure I derived from
literary pursuits ; and, by my convictions of
the truth of that religion, to the examination
of which I had devoted so much of my time.
My eyes still continued very weak, and I
wrote under the apprehension of being reduced
to a state that would preclude all application
to study. A considerable part of my Histo
ry of New England being now disposed of,
my only resource appeared to be to abridge
3*

30 LIFE OF
that work for the use of schools. The pro
fit I hoped to derive from this compilation
seemed to me to constitute all I had to de
pend upon in future, if my life should be
spared. While I entertained these hopes, in
which I was made sanguine by my know
ledge of the success with which books for
schools had been printed, can it be a subject
of blame, or reproach, to a person in my
situation, that I felt extremely grieved, and
hurt, when I found my design anticipated by
a reverend gentleman, whose calling, and in
defatigable industry, are highly respectable ?
The difference between us was left to re
ferees, who sustained a high reputation for
ability, and sound judgment, extensive infor
mation, and moral excellence. I was satis
fied with their decision. But I was reduced
to the painful task of writing on the subject ;
for, though I took this measure with extreme
reluctance, my opponent left me no other
alternative. I sincerely hope the painful
affair may never be recalled to his prejudice.

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 31

CHAPTER IV.
Notwithstanding the little profit, and va
rious discouragements I had experienced in
writing for the press, as I was entirely de
pendent upon my own exertions for a sup
port, I was resolved to persevere. 1 had
now acquired a number of valuable friends,
to whose generous exertions in my favor I
was deeply indebted. By several of them,
I was enabled to put my abridgment of the
History of New England to the press. I was
however unfortunate in this, as well as my
other compilations. The printer failed while
it was in the press, which deprived me of
the profit I expected to derive from it. Two
years afterwards, I published a new edition.
A similar misfortune befel me in this second
attempt to avail myself of my labors.
But though my productions were far from
being profitable, and I had frequent inter-

32 LIFE OF
ruptions in my studies from ill health, and
bad eyes, I still had my share of enjoyment.
I hoped my works might be useful, and I
was highly gratified by their candid recep
tion by the public.
I next chose a subject in which I thought
it probable that I should not meet with any
interference. I formed the desigu of wri
ting the History of the Jews, though I was
sensible that it would require much reading,
and that I must wander through a dreary
wilderness, unenlivened by one spot of ver
dure. My curiosity was strongly excited,
and I determined to persevere in my at
tempt to investigate the fate of this won
derful people. I begah the introduction
with their state under the Persian monar
chy, after their restoration from the Baby
lonish captivity. The standard works for
this History were Josephus, and Basnage,
the latter of whom brings his narrative down
only to the 19th century. After this pe
riod, I was obliged to compile from desultory
publications and manuscripts. I had at this
time the privilege of corresponding with the

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 33
celebrated Gregoire, who had attained
great celebrity for the conspicuous part he
acted during the French Revolution, and ex
erted all his energy in the first constitu
tional assembly to procure the rights of cit
izens for the Jews. He had the goodness
to send me some writings in their favor,
which increased the- interest I felt in this
oppressed people.
Previously to concluding this gloomy detail
of the difficulties I encountered, while wri
ting for the press, I would first notice, that
I was obliged to exert myself to the utmost
to overcome my natural timidity, and ac
commodate myself to my situation. After
the age and infirmities of my -father pre
vented him from assisting me, as he had
formerly done, in selling and exchanging
the copies of my work, I was necessitated to
exert myself in doing business out of the
female line, which exposed me to public
notice. And as I could not but be sensible
that my manners were remarkably awk
ward, this consciousness, joined with my ig
norance of the established rules of proprie-

34 LIFE OF
ty, rendered me tremblingly apprehensive
of exposing myself to ridicule. These un
pleasant feelings, however, in time abated.
In order to meet this trial, I considered,
that what is right and necessary in the sit
uation in which Providence has placed, me,
cannot be really improper ; and though my
acting upon this principle may have exposed
me to the censure, or ridicule of those, whose
ideas upon the subject are derived from the
varying modes of fashion, and not from the
unchanging laws of moral rectitude, it saved
me from a feeling which would have been
infinitely more painful, that of self-reproach.
My objects were, to obtain the approbation
of my own . heart, and the esteem of a few
fri ends whose opinion I most highly prized,
and I was comparatively indifferent to the
censure or ridicule of the world in general.
In the life of Mrs Charlotte Smith it is
pertly remarked, that the ' penalties and
discouragements attending authors in gen
eral fall upon woman with double weight*
To the curiosity of the idle, and the envy
of the malicious, their sex affords a pecu-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 35
liar excitement. Arraigned not merely as
writers, but as women, their characters, their
conduct, and even their personal endow
ments, become the object of severe inquisi
tion. From the common allowances claimed
by the species, literary women appear only
to be exempted.'
Though I have been too insignificant, and
treated with too much candor, fully to real
ize the above remarks, yet I have been in
a situation deeply to feel the trials which at
tend literary pursuits. At length I saw old
age approaching, without any provision for
it, when if my life was spared, I should be
incapable of exerting myself ; and my mind
was at times depressed by this gloomy pros
pect.

36 LIFE OF

CHAPTER V.
While I was compiling my History of the
Jews, I boarded in Dedham. I was here
honored with the friendship, and received
the kind offices of Mr Dowse, his lady, and
her sister,* and more pecuniary favors than I
have ever experienced from any other indi
viduals. Whenever I visited this happy
family, I was received with the utmost cor
diality ; and I desire publicly to express my
grateful sense of their goodness.
While writing my History, my eyes, which,
since I had first injured them, have been
occasionally troublesome, failed to that de
gree, that I was induced again to go to Boston
to consult Dr Jeffries, in the hope, that, by
attending to his directions, I might finish my
*Mrs Shaw, who allowed Miss Adams one hundred dol
lars a year, for twentyfive years, paid to her quarterly, by
Josiah Quincy, Esq.

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 37
work. During this visit at Boston, I receiv
ed the unexpected intelligence, that a num
ber of benevolent gentlemen had settled an
annuity upon me, to relieve me from the
embarrassments I had hitherto suffered.
The Hon. Josiah Quincy, Stephen Higgin-
son, Esq. and William Shaw, Esq. were some
of its first promoters. This providential
interference excited my most lively gratitude
to my generous benefactors, and I hope I
sensibly felt my deep obligation to the source
of all good.
My generous friends could hardly appre
ciate the extent of the benefit they conferred
upon me. I had not been able to make any
provision for my declining years, and had not
a place on earth which I could call my home.
My spirits were depressed by my destitute
circumstances, and I am persuaded that un
der Providence, the generosity of my friends
was the means of prolonging my life.
I had now attained a condition more eligi
ble than my most sanguine wishes could ever
have led me to anticipate. If in early life
I could have enjoyed the literary advantages

38 LIFE OF
I now possessed, I should have thought it
the height of earthly happiness. But I was
now too far advanced in life to profit by the
advantages I had gained. However, I was
grateful, and happy. My friend William
Shaw, Esq. gave me the liberty of frequent
ing the Atheneum. Amidst that large and
valuable collection of books, I found an in
exhaustible source of information and enter
tainment ; and among other advantages, I
found a few literary friends, in whose conver
sation I enjoyed ' the feast of reason and
the flow of soul.' Among the many bless
ings I was favored with, I shall ever highly
appreciate the acquaintance and friendship of
the late Rev. Mr Buckminster, in whom I
contemplated with admiration the rare union
of intellectual, moral, and religious excellence ;
of a powerful mind with extensive informa
tion, and a feeling heart enlivened by devo
tion. He was admired for his distinguished
abilities and learning by all who knew him ;
but the peculiar traits of benevolence, noble
ness of mind, sincerity and sweetness of
temper, which adorned his character, could

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 39
only be duly appreciated by those who were
honored with his friendship.
Mr Buckminster was so kind as to give
me the use of. his large and valuable library,
which was of great advantage to me in com
piling my History of the Jews. In my ef
forts to complete the work, I was encourag
ed and animated by his participating in the
interest I felt in this extraordinary people.
Though entering into the details of the suf
ferings of the persecuted Jewish Nation, yet
the enthusiasm Mr Buckminster inspired,
and the pleasure of conversing with him
upon a subject with which he was intimately
acquainted, rendered the time I was writing
my History one of the happiest periods of
my life. I completed my work in 1812, a
few months before his death.
In the year 1812 I sustained a severe af
fliction, by the sudden death of Mr Buck
minster. Amidst the large number who
lamented his death, I believe there was none
(except his near relations) who felt more dis
tressed than myself. I desire, however, to be
grateful to divine Providence for the privi
lege of his acquaintance and friendship.

40 LIFE OF
While my feelings were deeply suscepti
ble from the recent wound they had received
by the death of Mr Buckminster, I went to
Medfield to visit my aged father, with the
hope that I might do something to adminis
ter to his comfort, and in this way soothe my
own grief. But while I was with him, he
was seized with a complaint which put. a
period to his life. Though from his age,
and infirmities, I had been often led to an
ticipate this event, I found it very trying
when I actually realized it. He had been a
very kind parent to me, and though he could
not bestow any property upon me, he was
very solicitous to aid me as far as he could.
He was a great assistant to me both in pro
curing books, and in disposing of my works.
During the last years of his life, he was as
siduously engaged in studying the sacred
Scriptures, with the assistance of all the
commentaries he ceuld procure. In the fune
ral sermon preached upon his death, the Rev.
Dr Prentiss observes, ' He was ever strongly
attached to the society of literary and se
rious people, particularly of the clergy, with
a number of whom he kept up a friendly in-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 41
tercourse. There is reason to believe, that
by his exertions for many years he contribu
ted in no small degree to the diffusion of
knowledge and piety, and to the advance
ment of the cause of Christ.' My father's
love of books continued till the last. He
read, and heard reading, on the day on which
he expired. My residence in Boston en
abled me to procure books for his perusal,
and it afforded me great pleasure to be thus
permitted to gratify my honored parent.
When, after the death of my father, I
returned to Boston, my mind was depressed
with my recent losses. But I was sensible
that I was still favored with many inestima
ble privileges. Mr Buckminster had been
so kind as to introduce me to a number of
his acquaintances, who treated me with that
genuine kindness which is the essence of
true politeness.
Among the number of those excellent
friends, to whom Mr Buckminster was so
kind as to introduce me, I would particular
ly recognise Mrs Dearborn, and Mrs Win-
4*

42 LIFE OF
throp, who shone in the circles of polished
life, and adorned their eminent stations by
their engaging manners, and highly cultiva
ted minds ; and still more, by their christian
virtues. They were blessings to those
around them ; and for a course of years fa
vored me with their attention, and kind offi
ces. When they were removed by death to a
higher state of existence, I deeply mourn
ed the heavy and irreparable loss I sustained.
While deeply indebted to the bounty of
my dear and honored friends, I wished to
pursue my literary occupations with as much
diligence as my health would permit. But in
the decline of life, I was so far debilitated, by
repeated fevers, at small intervals from each
other, that I was unable to write for the
press. At length, I so far recovered, as to
resume a work I had formerly begun, upon
the New Testament, which I designed to be
much larger than it is ; but my advanced age
induced me only to publish a little book, en
titled, ' Letters on the Gospels,' which has
passed through two editions.
I have already mentioned the perplexity

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 43
and embarrassment of my mind, while wri
ting my View of Religions. After remov
ing to Boston, and residing in that city while
the disputes upon Unitarian sentiments
were warmly agitated, I read all that came
in my way upon both sides of the question i
and carefully examined the New Testament,
with, I think, a sincere and ardent desire to
know the truth. I deeply felt the difficul
ties upon both sides of the question ; yet
prevailingly give the preference to that class
of Unitarians, who adopt the highest idea of
the greatness and dignity of the Son of God.
I never arrived to that degree of decision
that some have attained on that subject.
In this, and every other disputable sub
ject, I would adopt the following lines;
If I am right, thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay ;
If I am wrong, O teach my heart,
To find the better way.

NOTICES
IN CONTINUATION BY A FRIEND.

NOTICES

Those who have been favored with a
personal knowledge of the Author of the
short Memoir contained in this book, will
read it with the deepest interest ; and per
haps to them it may seem almost superflu
ous to say more of her. But Miss Adams's
works have circulated far beyond the sphere
in which she moved, and there are many
who are desirous of knowing her, as she was
appreciated by others, and not by her own
estimate. Such would be poorly satisfied
with the short sketch she has given of her
self, though her friends must ever value it as
a parting legacy.
The ' timidity of early years ' followed
Miss Adams through life ; and, even when
surrounded by intimate friends, it never

48

LIFE OF

wholly forsook her. It was a sensitiveness
that sprung from deep feeling, and a diffi
dence that was the result of genuine hu
mility. This often operated unfavorably
upon her manners, and produced an awkward
ness, of which she was painfully conscious.
But there were times when the warmth of
her heart, and the cultivation of her mind,
gave an enthusiasm and eloquence to her
language, that astonished those who listened
to her. At such times, her countenance lost
its usual calm placidity, and glowed with an
animation that rendered it highly interesting.
There was indeed a wonderful singularity in
her appearance. In the circles of polished
life to which she was often courted, there
was nothing like her. In the circles of hum
ble life, she was equally unassuming, and
equally peculiar. No one could see her,
without feeling that she was not of this
world. It is possible that part of this timid
ity might have arisen from the seclusion of
early years. But it is certain, that no culture,
or discipline, could have formed her man
ners to the standard of easy and fashionable

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 49
life. She sometimes observed, ' I know I
am very awkward ; I never could learn to
make a curtsey.' But it must not be suppos
ed that there was in her any want of gentle
ness, or propriety. Her disinterested and
affectionate disposition made her, in reality,
all that the most calculating would desire to
appear. The simplicity, and often the abstracted
ness of Miss Adams' manner, led many to sup
pose that her talents were confined to the sub
jects on which she wrote. Some considered
her as a walking dictionary of ' Religious
Opinions.' Others viewed her merely as an
' Abridgment of the History of New Eng
land.' And many said, ' if you want to
know Miss Adams, you must talk to her
about the Jews.' And this last was, indeed,
a subject that always called forth the energy
of her mind. She had faithfully studied
their history, and she venerated the antiqui
ty of their origin. Her inquiring mind was
deeply interested by their ' wonderful desti
nation, peculiar habits, and religious rites.'
She felt for them as a suffering and persecut-
5

50 LIFE OF
ed people ; and she felt yet more, when she
considered them as a standing monument of
that religion, which she regarded as the
first and best of God's gifts to men. It was
the long contemplation of this chosen race
that induced her, amidst all the obstacles
that were in her way, to write their history.
It was an arduous labor. Yet her work is
a proof, that, in this ' barren wilderness she
found many a spot of verdure.' But those
who viewed her merely in relation to her
literary works, knew her but imperfectly.
With her extreme simplicity, there was an
uncommon depth of observation, and an in
tuitive knowledge of character. She was
often in circles where her timidity kept her
almost wholly silent, and where she hardly
seemed to be even a spectator. But her
subsequent remarks would show how accu
rately she had observed, and how nicely she
had discriminated. In speaking of a lady
of her acquaintance, she said, ' 1 value, and
admire her, but I can never be easy with her.
She is so kind, and so condescending, that I
can see she never forgets I am a poor awk-

MISS. HANNAH ADAMS. 51
ward old woman.' At another time, when
deploring the loss of a young lady, whose
fine talents had made her the delight of her
friends, ' and yet,' she said, ' she died at the
best time. Her powers were brilliant, and
beautiful, but they were exhausting to her
self; and had she lived, she would have
faded before she reached her prime.' Her
mind was habitually cheerful, and her cheer
fulness was much increased by her sensibility
to the works of nature. She looked upon
every object with the eye of a poet,, and
forgot her infirmities, and even her diffidence,
as she described her emotions. On visiting
her sister, who resided in the country, after
having been confined to her chamber, in the
city through the winter, ' it seemed to me,'
said she, ' as if the world was just created.'
No one could exclaim with more feeling and
truth, ' I care not, fortune, what you me deny,
You cannot rob me of free nature's grace,
You cannot bar the windows of the sky,
Through which Aurora shows her brightening face.'
There is but little doubt, that, had she

52 LIFE OF
given way to the natural temperament of her
mind, which was enthusiastic and romantic,
she might have been a poet. But her duties,
and her lot, led her into a different path of.
life. In her youth, however, she occasion
ally listened to the inspiration of the muses ;
and though she never set any value on these
productions, they discover much excellent
thought, and a high tone of feeling.
The want of early advantages, to which
Miss Adams so feelingly alludes in her me
moirs, ought hot to be forgotten, nor the
difficulties through which she struggled.
Her attendance upon any school was ex
tremely uncertain, and often interrupted by
her feeble health. Added to this, the schools
of a country village are not often of the
highest class. Even the elementary parts
of education are much neglected in them.
' I never,' said she, ' was taught how to hold
my pen.'
There is nothing that more strikingly de
notes the progress of literature in this part
of the country, than the attention which is
at present paid to female education. There

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 53
are few branches, if any, in which boys are
instructed, which are not now equally open
to girls. Not many years ago, however, the
test of a good school rested principally upon
the exhibitions made of hand-writing, spel
ling, and arithmetic. Grammar, it is true,
was professedly taught, but in a manner that
conveyed few ideas to the pupil. To get
the longest lessons, and to be at the head of
the class, constituted the best scholar. By
degrees, parsing, in its simplest forms, was
introduced, to aid the knowledge of gram
mar. Composition, geography and history
followed ; and the education of girls began
to assume a more respectable standing. Yet
even at this period, our village school-mas
ter much resembled Goldsmith's, of whom,
' The village all declared how much he knew ;
'Twas certain he could write and cipher too.'
It was at such schools as these that Miss
Adams received her early education. Her ar
dent thirst for knowledge, however, and her
industry and perseverance enabled her, in ma-
turer life, to make uncommon acquirements.
5*

54 life of
Yet she always felt,, and regretted, the
want of more thorough, and systematic in
struction. Her father entered into trade
as a desperate resource from the weariness
of an agricultural life, for which he had no
taste. He was plundered, and cheated by the
man, whom he engaged to carry on his farm ;
and as he had plunged into all the transac
tions of a country trader, dealing in books
and drugs, English and West India goods,
through all came vexation and disappoint
ment, and a total failure ensued. A large
proportion of his books were left on his
hands, and afforded to Miss Adams great fa
cilities for reading. Her father, too, happily
for her, had encouraged in her a taste con
genial to his own ; and her mind became cul
tivated, and embued with knowledge, al
most without her own consciousness of the
progress she was making. However unpro-
pitious to her were the pecuniary disap
pointments of her father's life, they seem to
have exerted a favorable influence on her
mind. Resortwas had also, at this time, to the
receiving of several boarders into the family ;

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 55
and from these she acquired the knowledge
of Greek and Latin. Of this knowledge, she
tells us she availed herself, for fitting three
young men for College ; and for Mr P.
Clark, one of her pupils, mentioned in her
memoirs, she retained through life the warm
est regard. He married a friend of hers ;
and ' this,' said she, ' was the only match I
ever had any hand in making.' Of her
mother, she always spoke with enthusiastic
reverence ; and though only eleven years of
age when she died, she retained a perfect re
collection of her. Mrs Adams was married
at fifteen, and died at the age of thirty
three, leaving three girls and two boys.
Her short life seems to have been filled with
usefulness ; and the following epitaph, writ
ten by an Episcopal clergyman, who was a
particular friend, and constant visitor of the
family, may still be traced on her humble
grave stone, should any descendant of ' Old
Mortality' chance to wander to the spot.
' Beneath this monument of love and truth,
Rear'd by fair gratitude's persuasive call,
Rest the remains of innocence, and youth ;
Esteem'd, lamented, and beloved by all.

56 LIFE OF
Fond of retirement, and of rural ease,
Her sober wishes never loved to stray.
Heaven was her aim, her study, how to please,
And carefully improve each fleeting day ;
To worth, a friend ; a parent to the poor.
Such was the woman ! could the saint be more ?'
After the death of her mother, the care of
Hannah, and of a younger sister, devolved
on Elizabeth, who was the oldest daughter.
They now lived in great retirement ; and
one of Miss Adams's early employments was,
weaving lace with bobbins on a cushion. In
referring to this, she afterwards pleasantly
observed, that, ' it was much more profitable
than writing books.' This manner of life,
with her desultory habits of reading, gave a
romantic and enthusiastic turn to her mind,
which was never essentially changed either
by time or circumstances.
Miss Adams's heart was however peculiarly
alive to the ties of natural affection. She
deeply felt the death of an aunt, who had
shown for her maternal tenderness. But as
long as her sister Elizabeth lived, she had, to
use her own words, a friend, a counsellor, and

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 57
i
guide. ' There was,' she said, 'but one heart
between us ; and I used sometimes to tell
my sister, in the overflowing of my affection,
that I could bear to lose everything if she
was spared to me ; but, if she were taken
away, I should surely die ! ' Yet this calami
tous event took place ; and Miss Adams liv
ed to prove, as many others have done, that
there is, in the day of sorrow, a strength
imparted beyond human fortitude. The
health of this beloved sister was declining
for nearly two years ; and it was, during that
time, one of her constant objects, to fortify
Miss Adams's mind for an event, that she felt
was near, and which she feared would be over
whelming. It however gradually approach
ed, and brought no terrors to herself. She
was calm, and resigned ; constantly expressing
her ' entire submission to the Divine will,
and laying all her burden at the foot of the
cross.' There were no enthusiastic flights,
rior was there any unnatural exaltation of
mind in her views of death. Though in the
bloom of youth and with an ardent enjoy
ment of life, she met the event like a Chris-

58 LIFE OF
tian. Hers was a philosophy which was
formed and nurtured by religion.
'For years after my sister's death,' said Miss
Adams, ' it was a struggle to live.' Her health
was extremely feeble, her heart she believ
ed broken, and poverty pressed heavilyupon
her. There were times, indeed, when she
felt as if she had not even a home. Her
father had made over his house and proper
ty to a son, with whom he and his other chil
dren continued to live ; but as this son was
married, and his family was increasing, not
withstanding his paternal kindness, Miss
Adams felt, and could not but feel, as if she
was a burden upon her brother. This was
the most trying period of her life, and it was
always recollected by her with strong emo
tion. The first effort of her pen, after her sis
ter's death, produced some lines on that
subject. They seem to be the very breath
ings of her heart, and are thrown together
almost without form ; yet a few extracts
from them will best show the state of her
mind.

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 59
' The first attachment of my earliest years,
Ere yet I knew to feel the attractive force
Of sacred friendship, was my love to her.
Our minds expanding, each succeeding year
Heightened our mutual friendship. Not a joy
Ere touched my soul, but when she shared a part.
When pierced with sorrow, her all cheering smile
Could give me comfort. Well she knew to bear
Life's adverse scenes with calm, undaunted mind,
And placid resignation. Grace divine
Illumed her soul, and stamp'd its features there.
# # # # # #
The best of friends ! Oh, how my bleeding heart
Recalls her tender love ! Of self unmindful,
For me she seemed to live ; forever kind,
Forever studious to promote my good,
" She was my guide, my friend, my earthly all ; "
Heaven's choicest blessing. Not a single thought
Could luik in close disguise. I knew to trust
This much loved sister with my inmost soul.
And must I lose her ! While unkind disease
Threatened a life so dear, my trembling heart
Sunk in o'erwhelming wo. Could prayers, or tears,
Could sleepless nights, or agonizing days,
And all the care of fond officious love
Avert thy fate, — sister, thou still hadst lived.'
Many expressions of her deep feeling on
this subject might be extracted from her pa
pers ; and to her immediate friends, they are
precious records of a sorrow stricken, and
resigned spirit. But the friendship of these

60 LIFE OF
two sisters was such as ' strangers intermed
dle not with.' The death of this sister
seemed to be the dissolution of a tie, like
that which occasioned the exclamation of
David in his beautiful lamentation over Jon
athan. ' Thy love to me was wonderful,
passing the love of women.'
That Miss Adams drew her support from
religion under this calamity, her manuscripts
very clearly show. She employed herself,
when unable to compose, in making extracts
from the Scriptures, which she applied to her
particular state of mind. These she arrang
ed in a little book, and preserved till her
death. In her memoirs, she alludes to a small
circle of females that had gradually been
drawn together from the neighboring towns,
by a similarity of taste and situation ; and
in this circle she found great enjoyment. In
after years, her imagination probably exag
gerated their merit. Yet she retained many
proofs that they were not of an ordinary stamp.
In speaking of this knot of friends, Miss
Adams, said, ' they were all poor, and most

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 61
of them good-looking,' and then added, with
her usual simplicity, ' I had the fewest at
tractions of any of them.'
Nor was Miss Adams's pen at this time
idle. The powers of her mind were early
appreciated by her young associates ; or,
perhaps, it is more just to say, that they ob
tained that influence, which, however un
claimed, is stamped upon superior intellect.
Mind is created to rule. Wealth, and all mere
ly outward distinctions are thrown into ob
scurity, when brought in competition with
mental power. This is strikingly exempli
fied in public and professional strife ; and,
though more minutely, yet hardly less ob
viously, in the miniature circle of private
life. Miss Adams, with all her humility,
and her retiring modesty, was the casuist of
her youthful friends. A number of her pa
pers that remain, prove how often she was
resorted to by her companions in cases of
opinion ; and the publication of a few of
these, it is believed, cannot be wholly unin
teresting to those who knew her in later life.
One of her young friends put to her this
6

62 LIFE OF
interrogative. Ought mankind to be respect
ed for their personal worth alone, abstracted
from all accidental causes ?
To this question Miss Adams replied.
1 Mankind ought primarily to be respected
for their personal worth ; yet if accidental
causes make that worth appear more con
spicuous, it may increase our esteem, which
still is founded on personal worth in propor
tion as it appears. The more we" see of
virtue, the more it ought to attract our love
and admiration. Virtue becomes visible only
by its effects. The diamond we value for
its intrinsic worth. But when it is polished
and set, its essential beauty appears more
refulgent. So external accomplishments,
and accidental causes, set forth the original
beauty of virtue, and serve to heighten its
charms. There are particular circumstances
in which every virtue will shine with pecu
liar lustre. For instance, humility has in
trinsic excellence. But it appears most
attractive in those who are placed in affluent
circumstances, and are surrounded by pomp
and splendor. Fortitude, also, is an excel-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 63
lent quality of the mind. But suffering and
adversity must bring it forth. Persons who
have performed eminent services for their
country are worthy of greater honor, than
those who have remained in private life
with equal worth. I conclude, therefore,
that mankind ought to be esteemed for their
personal worth, as it is rendered conspicuous
by accidental causes.'
Another question proposed was, whether
virtue ought not to be regarded as its own
reward, without any reference to a future
state of happiness, or misery ?
To this she replied, ' A regularity of
conduct is for the interest of all, even were
their prospects terminated by the enjoyments
of this life. We cannot doubt that the vir
tuous Seneca enjoyed more happiness than
Nero, his cruel and tyrannical master. So
far as inward peace of conscience depends
on virtue, it is its own reward. But we do
not find that its ends are commensurate with
its exertions. Honest industry does not
always bring even a moderate support. It
therefore appears evident to me, that there

64 LIFE OF
would not be sufficient reward for, nor con
sequently sufficient excitement to, the sacri
fices which virtue requires, without the hope
of a future life. God, by the influences of
his spirit, brings home the truths of the
Gospel upon the mind, and makes them the
spring of new, and right principles. Hence
Divine Revelation informs us, "by his own
will begat he us by the word of truth." If
we look for nothing beyond the grave, too
many will say, " what advantageth it me ? "
DrDoddridge observes, " there are some suf
ferings of flesh and blood, to which good
men for conscience' sake have been exposed,
so extreme, that without some extraordinary
support from God, it would be really impos
sible that the pleasures of a rational thought
should be enjoyed by them." Such support
must arise from a view of a future state, and
from a conviction that afflictions are but for
a moment,' and are " working out for them a far
more exceeding, even an eternal weight of
glory." Not that I mean to say, we are to
expect Heaven as a reward for our virtue,
independent of the free grace of God. But

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 65
he has promised a glorious inheritance to
those who do well, and this ought to stimu
late men to the greatest industry in his
service. Love to God is the great principle
of christian virtue.'
On another occasion she was applied to by
a friend, who was placed in an embarrassing
situation, for her sentiments on the subject
of forming a connexion, without mutual at
tachment. The following observations are extracted
from her reply.
' It has been readily allowed, that mar
riage, without great congeniality, must ren
der a person of sensibility extremely wretch
ed. Novel writers have general urged the
impropriety of this connexion from this mo
tive. But as this life is only a passport to
a better, the principal objection ought to
arise from a nobler source.
' Both religion and morality require that
there should be a conformity between our
words and actions ; and, that in both we
should always be entirely true. Now when
6*

66 LIFE OF
two people marry, they virtually and public
ly declare, that they prefer each other to all
the world. If that preference be wanting,
this declaration is a capital breach of sincer
ity. It is the declaration of an untruth be
fore Heaven and earth.
' The least deviation from truth, in this
one capital point, imposes a kind of ne
cessity to practise continual dissimulation.
Having exhibited to the world the strongest
proof of a peculiar, and individual affection,
honor and reputation render it of conse
quence to keep up the deception. By doing
this, however, the delicacy of moral feeling
must be continually wearing away. And
what will be the happiness of married life
under circumstances like these ?
' The attention which a husband and wife
have a right to expect from each other, must
originate in a decided preference of each oth
er ; else the indifference of one. of the par
ties may effectually destroy that happiness,
which they had bound themselves by the
most sacred obligations to promote.
' But even this continual dissimulation,

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 67
which is highly injurious to the moral char
acter, and extremely painful to an ingen
uous mind, will be wholly unavailing for its
end. True love is of so delicate a nature,
that it can never be satisfied with anything
short of love in return ; and it is of a power
so penetrating, that, by its own light, it
sees into the heart of the person beloved.
Its primary object is to possess the heart.
" Not the warmest expressions of affection,
or the most fervent protestations, are able to
give any satisfaction, where we are not per
suaded the affection is real, and the satis
faction mutual.
" All these possessed are nought, but as they are
The proofs, the substance of an inward passion
And the rich plunder of a taken heart." '
The first edition of Miss Adams's View of
Religion was published before her sister's
death, and partly transcribed by this sister.
The second was begun as soon after this af
flicting event took place, as she could col
lect resolution to engage in it. Those who
knew her might indeed wonder that any mo-

68 LIFE OF
tive could at any time be powerful enough to
induce her to publish a book. Her hu
mility, her diffidence, and her total igno
rance of business, seemed to present insur
mountable obstacles. It was necessary,
however, that she should earn a subsistence
in some way. She had tried various meth
ods. Making lace, during the war, had been
one of the most lucrative employments.
But home-made lace could only be tolerated,
when no other could be procured ; and as
soon as importation become easy, it sunk
into total disuse. Spinning, weaving, and
braiding straw were by turns tried. But all
afforded her only a scanty subsistence. Her
eyes were weak, and often so much inflam
ed that she could not use them. Her gene
ral health also was extremely feeble, and her
mind depressed by present evil, and harass
ed by distressing fears for the future. ' It
was desperation, therefore, and not vanity,'
said she, ' that induced me to publish.' Her
memoirs mention the disappointment she
experienced in the profits of her first edi
tion. When about publishing a second, it

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 69
was necessary to pay a few shillings for the
further security of the copy-right ; and this
sum, though so small, she was obliged to
borrow from a friend. On the subject of
poverty, she always spoke with great feel
ing. She had early in life been brought up
in indulgence ; and poverty had come upon
her at an age, when the sensibility of the
heart are most alive. There can hardly, in
deed, be a suffering more acute to a feeling
mind, that has experienced the pleasure of
bestowing, than to find its means of benev
olence cut off, and all its powers necessarily
turned into a weary, wasting struggle for
self-preservation. 'And yet,' she said, ' I had
then enjoyments, of which the rich have no
idea. When I had any work brought in that
would enable me to earn a few shillings, by
which I might buy paper, or any articles of
stationary, I engaged in writing with an
interest that beguiled the monotony of my
life.' After the second edition of her book
was published, she kept a school for the sum
mer months for successive years ; and,
though in this employment she experienced

70 LIFE OF
the usual difficulties of school-keeping in the
country, it was, upon the whole, a source of
happiness. As the schools were in the neigh
boring towns, she resided among the pa
rents of the children by turns ; and her intel
ligent and acute mind often derived amuse
ment, and profit, . from these occasional re
sidences. She treasured up many pleasant
little anecdotes, that marked the habits and
manners of the families in which she then
lived, many of which retained much of the
primitive simplicity of their forefathers.
One anecdote may not be unacceptable.
She passed several months in the family of a
respectable farmer, whose turn it was to
receive the school-mistress. His wife was a
pattern of frugal, industrious management ;
yet not devoid of that desire of appearing
' decent,' which was manifested by the Vicar
of Wakefield's wife before her. The usu
al dress of females in the country at that
period, when engaged in domestic employ
ments, was the ' short russet kyrtle,' confin
ed at the waist by a home-spun checked
apron. This was the costume of the mis-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 71
tress of the family. The year Miss Adams
resided there had been one of uncommon
prosperity. The crops were abundant, and
many little luxuries had been added to the
household establishment. With injunctions
of secrecy, the good woman informed her
guest, that, if the next year also should prove
to be as prosperous, she intended to wear
long calico gowns !
Miss Adams remarked, that these early
scenes often recurred to her mind, amidst the
wealth and splendor she witnessed in la
ter life ; and the impressions of both were
heightened by the contrast.
That her sensibility was a source of pain,
as well as of happiness, cannot be doubted.
She censured herself severely for moments
of irritation, and felt the keenest self-re
proach for what might be truly called the
infirmity of her nature. That she perfect
ly understood her weaknesses, and moral
exposures, and guarded in her heart the ave
nues to temptation, the following resolutions,
found among her papers, are a sufficient
proof.

72 LIFE OF
SERIOUS RESOLUTIONS.
I resolve to read the Bible more attentive
ly, and diligently, and to be constant and fer
vent in prayer for divine illumination and
direction. 2d. To read less from curiosity, and a
desire to acquire worldly knowledge, and
more for the regulation of my heart and life ;
consequently, to have my reading less desul
tory, and to read more books of practical di
vinity. 3d. In choosing my friends and compan
ions, to have a greater regard to religious
characters than I have hitherto had.
4th. To avoid such company as has a
tendency to unsettle my mind respecting
religious opinions.
5th. To endeavor to preserve a firm re
liance on Divine Providence, and to avoid all
unreasonable worldly care and anxiety.
6th. To pray and guard against loving
my friends with that ardent attachment, and
that implicit reliance upon them, which is
incompatible with supreme love to, and trust
in, God alone.

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 73
7th. To endeavor to attain a spirit of
forgiveness towards my enemies, and to
banish from my mind all those feelings of
resentment, which are incompatible with
the spirit of the gospel.
For a number of years, no incidents oc
curred in the life of Miss Adams which claim
peculiar notice. It is a long road, with only
here and there a milestone. She continued
to write, but on subjects not at all congenial
with her own taste. She was enthusiastic,-
and a great lover of poetry and fiction ; but
on these subjects she distrusted herself, and
made it her constant study to accommodate her
mind to common life. Her History of New
England is evidence of her perseverance in
this purpose, as that work was undertaken
soon after the second edition of her ' View
of Religious Opinions.'
In her memoirs, she mentions her difficulty
of procuring books that would aid her in her
purposes. The very .uncommon faculty
she possessed of comprehending, and mak
ing her own, the information a book contain
ed, greatly assisted her labors. She was
7 "

74 LIFE OF
invited to pass a week or two at the late
President Adams's, at Quincy, with the offer
of his library as an inducement to accept the
invitation. He was much struck with the
rapidity with which she went through folios
of the venerable Fathers ; and made some
pleasant remarks in consequence, which in
duced her to speak of their contents. He
then found, that, while she had been turn
ing over leaf after leaf, she had been culling
all that could be useful in her labors. She
possessed the power of application to an
uncommon degree, and was often so entirely
engrossed in her subject, as to be uncon
scious of the lapse of time. This abstrac
tion gave rise to many little anecdotes. It
was said that she often spent days at the
Atheneum ; and that the librarian, after
some ineffectual attempts to disengage her
from her book, would lock the door, go home
to his dinner, and return again, and find her
in the same spot ; and unconscious either of
his absence, or that the dinner hour was past.
A friend repeated this account to her, and
asked her if it was true. She said in reply,

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 75
' It is very much exaggerated, I don't think
it ever happened more than once or twice.'
It was- on a visit to Boston, that Miss
Adams first saw Mr Buckminster. He was
then at college, and about sixteen years old.
Those who knew him will not think her
description of him an exaggerated one. ' He
had then,' she said, 'the bloom of health on
his cheek, and the fire of genius in his eye.
I did not know from which world he came,
whether from heaven or earth.' Though so
young, he entered fully into her character ;
and before they parted, he gave her a short,
but comprehensive sketch of the state of
literature in France and Germany.' After he
became the Pastor of Brattle street Church,
he, with Mr Higginson, and Mr Shaw the
active founder of. the Atheneum, proposed
to Miss Adams, who, from an enfeebled
constitution, had begun to grow infirm, to
remove to Boston ; at the same time procur
ing for her, through the liberal subscription
of a few gentlemen, an annuity for life.
She had then commenced her History of the
Jews ; and nothing could have been more

76 LIFE OF
favorable to its progress, or to her own ease
of mind, than this benevolent arrangement.
She could never speak of her benefactors
without deep emotion.
From the Rev. Mr Buckminster she re
ceived the most judicious, and extensive
assistance. She was in the habit of visiting
him in his study, and had his permission to
come when she pleased, to sit and read
there as long as she pleased, or take any
book home and use it like her own. Perhaps
people are never perfectly easy with each
other, till they feel at liberty to be silent in
each other's society. It was 'stipulated be
tween them, that neither party should be
obliged to talk. But her own language will
best describe her feelings. 'Mr Buckmin
ster wrould sometimes read for hours without
speaking. But, occasionally, flashes of gen
ius would break forth in some short observa
tion, or sudden remark, which electrified me.
I never could have gone on with my history,
without the use of his library. I was in
debted to him for a new interest in "life.
He introduced me to a valuable circle of

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 77
friends ; and it was through him that I be
came acquainted with Mrs Dearborn, whose
kindness and attention to me have been
unceasing. His character was the perfection
of humanity. His intellectual powers were
highly cultivated and ennobled. Yet even
the astonishing vigor and brightness of his
intellect were outdone by the goodness of
his heart.
' No thought within his generous mind had birth,
But what he might have own'd to heaven and earth.'
Mr Buckminster assisted Miss Adams's
researches, and procured information for her,
relative to the Jews. He took a warm in
terest in this oppressed people, and often
prayed for thern during communion service,
in the same language in which Jesus had
prayed for them. ' Father, forgive them ! for
they know not what they do.' For about
two years after the removal of Miss Adams
to Boston, she enjoyed this intercourse, visit-
ting his study with the utmost freedom.
It is impossible not to look back with ad
miration upon the benevolence that prompt
ed these kind attentions ; and it is not
7*

78 LIFE OF
a difficult effort of imagination to en
ter the library, and to view these laborious,
and dissimilar students together. The
one, distinguished by the natural ease,
grace and elegance of his manners ; the
other, timid and helpless. The one,
treading with the elastic step of youth, and
the other declining into the vale of years ;
yet both drawn together by those sympa
thies, which spring from the fountain of
perfect and everlasting good. Who would
not be touched by the spectacle of a
young man of distinguished talents, equally
sought by the world of science, and of fash
ion, extending a helping hand, and devoting
a portion of his valuable time, to a timid
and helpless female, shrinking from the ills of
life ; but who indeed derived her happiness
from the same sources that he did, literature
and religion ! When, from indisposition, she
omitted for any length of time her visits, a
kind note, or a still kinder call alleviated the
infirmities of her health. But this happi
ness was not to last. Miss Adams was only
one among the many who beheld Mr Buck-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 79
minster disappear, at the early age of
twentyeight years, ' in all the brightness of
his honors, and without any twilight com
ing over his fame.'
Miss Adams corresponded with literary
characters both abroad and at home, but
she never preserved any copies of her own
letters. She wrote with great simplicity,
and singleness of heart, without any display,
and set no value on her own composition.
She had, indeed, a singular standard of
judging. It was her firm persuasion, that
she never wrote anything original. ' It
is other people's thoughts,' said she,
' that I put into my own language.' Were
all writers brought to the same test,
there are few that could claim much origin
ality of thought ; though the rich and var-
ried modes of expression, and the different
views which different minds take of funda
mental truths, often give them the grace
and charm of novelty. In this opinion
of herself, however, she seems to refute
her position ; as it must be acknowledg
ed that this view of her own works is

80 LIFE OF
rather original among authors. Her defect
was, underrating, instead of overrating her
powers. Her mind was like a well cultivated
garden, stored with fruits and flowers, and
watered by pure streams. But they were
streams that flowed on just as nature had
intended. There were no cascades, nor
fountains, nor serpentine walks, nor rare ex
otics. All was simple, and natural.
Her timidity was excessive. It pervaded
her whole character, and sometimes palsied
the efforts of her mind. In her youth she
amused herself with writing tales of fiction.
' But,' she said, ' they all took their color
from her own life. She could do nothing
but kill and destroy ; and when her situation
became happier, and her mind more cheer
ful, she could not endure the sight of them.'
When very young, her health being in a
feeble state, and not expecting to live long,
she determined to write a number of letters
to her young friends, after the manner of
Mrs Rowe's ; intending they should reach
them mysteriously, immediately on her death.
But fortunately for the Jews, and for litera-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 81
ture, her anticipations were not realized.
She was early in life much in the habit of
committing poetry to memory ; and this she
never forgot. ' I could repeat poetry,' said
she, ' I believe for three months together ;
and though I am now continually troubled
by forgetting where I have laid a knife, a
pencil, or a pen, yet the long poems I -learned
in my youth, I can repeat as accurately as
ever.' She went on to observe, that these
recollections did not give her so much
pleasure as might be supposed ; for, as this
poetry was selected when she was young,
much of it was not of a kind which her ma-
turer taste and judgment could approve.
Though Miss Adams was born and bred
in the country, she felt the strongest enthu
siasm for rural scenes ; and they always
seemed to retain the power of novelty over
her mind. A walk, a ride, or a visit to any
new place, awoke all the fervor of her
feelings. It was on one of these occasions
that she composed the following lines.
' Such scenes the days of innocence renew,
And bring the patriarchal age to view,

82 LIFE OF
Thus favor'd Abraham, in the days of old,
On flowery Mamre kept his fleecy fold ;
While friendly angels left their heavenly seat,
To greet the patriarch in his calm retreat.'
There are few who were more cal
culated for the enjoyment of friendship
and society than Miss Adams. Yet for
a long period she seems to have been in
a great measure deprived of both. It is
difficult to say what effects might have been
produced by the action of other minds upon
her own. It might have roused it to more
inventive exertion ; or, on the other hand, in
the fulness of enjoyment, her mental pow
ers might have sunk into indolence. But
one thing is certain, that her happiness would
have been greatly increased by it. Those
who knew her only late in life can fully real
ize how much she must have felt the want
of a friend, after the death of her sister.
Her strong sensibility to all that was excel
lent, and good, and fair in creation, peculiar
ly fitted her for that intercourse of thought
and feeling, which such emotions naturally
call forth. Her love of literature was no

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 83
doubt a high source of enjoyment. But per
haps even this might have been increased,
by those occasional restraints which the
forms and habits of society impose. The
epicure is willing to delay his dinner for an
appetite ; and; upon the same principle, those
who read, write, or reflect with the. great
est relish, may return to these occupations
with tenfold enjoyment, after giving an hour
or two to a social circle, or even to the dull
round of a modern tea party. But Miss
Adams had none of these incentives. She
was at liberty to read, or write, with
out interruption ; to turn over huge folios,
or musty manuscripts, from morning to
night ; and if she sometimes suspended her
labors, and walked abroad, it was for a sol
itary pleasure. Yet she allowed no senti
ment of repining, or of discontent, to em
bitter her life ; for she fully realized that,
' It is th' allotment of the skies,
The hand of the Supremely Wise,
That guides and governs our affections
And plans and orders our connexions ;
Directs us in our distant road,
And marks the bounds of our abode.'

84 LIFE OF
This feeling of resignation to existing
circumstances prevented Miss Adams from
making any strenuous exertions to improve
her condition. Once, indeed, she projected
a plan of keeping a circulating library at
Salem. She had a considerable number of
books to begin with, and probably encourag
ed a hope that she might in this way be
come instrumental to the promotion of re
ligious and moral instruction. But she nev
er thought superficially on any subject ; and
before engaging in active measures, she
made full inquiry into the probable success
and consequences of her plan. It was then
that her upright, and conscientious mind,
relinquished the undertaking. The reflec
tion, that the emoluments of a circu
lating library are drawn from novels, plays,
and romances, and that, in keeping such a
library, she must be accessary to much waste
of time, if not perversion of taste and even
of principle, by disseminating works which
often are read because they are new, deter
mined her conduct. She felt, and lamented
the injury, which the promiscuous reading

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 85
of similar works had produced on her own
mind. While they had sharpened her sensi
bility to the evils of life, they had also ener
vated her resolution to endure them ; and
she ascribed much of her mental suf
fering to this cause. She would not, there
fore, pursue the plan of a circulating library,
though encouraged to do it by some warm
hearted friends. Had the Waverley novels
made their appearance in her youthful days,
they would probably have rendered harm
less the greater part of those which fell in
to her hands. Their just historical painting,
their strong delineation of character, and
masterly touches of passion and feeling,
united with the exquisite description of what
is beautiful and sublime in the scenery of
nature, could not fail to have given her a
juster taste, and directed her enthusiasm
to a higher mark. Her own good sense,
led her, in time, to discriminate, and to
separate the gold from the dross ; and she
never ceased to derive great pleasure from
a well written work of fiction. Her whole
testimony, however, was given against that

86 LIFE OF
promiscuous reading of novels, which has
been in times past, more than of late years,
permitted among young girls. The rapid
progress of education, by occupying the
time, and expanding the mind, has done
much towards the correction of this evil. Ma
ny now sip at the fountain-head of elegant lit
erature, and feel the beauty of Virgil, and the
sublimity of Dante, in their native languages;
listen to the sweet melody of Tasso ; and find
in the christian leader of the early ages, God
frey, a hero far surpassing the heroes of
modern romances.
Happily the time has arrived, when the
cultivation of female intellect needs no lon
ger to be advocated, or recommended. It
is now placed on a just and rational ground.
We hear no longer of the alarming, and
perhaps justly obnoxious din, of the ' rights
of women.' Whatever their capacity of
receiving instruction may be, there can be no
use in extending it beyond the sphere of
their duties. Yet how wide a circle does
this include ! Who can doubt the sacred and
important duties of a mother ? ' Nature has

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 87
not more evidently assigned them the task
of nourishing the body of the infant, than
she has that of developing, and cultivating
the mind, in its earlier stages.' It is her
office to sow the first seeds of virtue ; to
regulate the first excitements of temper ; to
cultivate gentleness, forbearance, disinter
estedness, and above all, obedience. For
this, her own habits must be those of care
ful observation, of steady self-government,
and of systematical arrangement ; otherwise,
her plan will be made up of miscellaneous
feelings, and opinions, that will be constant
ly fluctuating. ' It may be doubted whether any one can
be placed in so insulated a situation, as to
possess a right of appropriating any consid
erable portion of his time to studies, which
may not terminate in a practical result.'
This rule, in an enlightened sense, ought to
be the standard of a woman's education.
It ought to be the measure of her cultiva
tion. But surely no faculty of her mind can
be spared from this work. ' She is design
ed by nature for elegance, and gentleness ;

88 LIFE OF
to endear domestic life to man, to make
virtue lovely to her children, to spread around
her order and grace, and to give society its
highest polish. No attainment can be above
beings whose end and aim is to accomplish
these important purposes. Every means
should be used to invigorate by principle, and
culture, their native excellence and grace.'*
These observations may be deemed irre
levant, but they are suggested by Miss Ad
ams's own remarks on this subject. She
often regretted the time she had spent in
useless, and desultory reading, and observed,
that when she first began to turn her atten
tion to the study of the dead languages, she
felt as if she was ' drawing upon herself the
ridicule of society.' She lived, however,
to see these prejudices removed, and to re
ceive a respect and deference from literary
men, which often excited her astonishment,
as well as gratitude. There have been ma
ny instances recorded, of talent which has
been suffered to languish in obscurity and
want. Against these, the present instance
* Fenelon.

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 89
ought not to pass unnoticed. The individu
al kindness that Miss Adams received was
invariable. She had outlived almost all her
cotemporaries. But new generations had
sprung up under the enlightened influences of
education, who respected her intellect and
learning, and who loved her for her good
ness. After her removal to Boston, she was
therefore seldom long in solitude. Her little
apartment was usually decorated with the
flowers that her young friends brought her.
Many of them spe»t hours in reading to her,
and cheered her by their bright and ani
mated conversation. If would be injustice,
also not to refc to the disinterested, and
liberal assistance she received from those
friends wfio eiwfoled her to reserve a part
of fr^r labort'ous earnings for the benefit of
a suffering relative. The annuity, which
confc'nuea' to her death, was said to have
ieen first suggested by ladies ; but after
wards, the proposal was put into the hands
of Mr Shaw, and the other gentlemen men
tioned in her memoirs. A few years pre
vious to her death, a number of ladies at
8*

90

LIFE OF

Salem sent her an annual sum as a testimo
ny of their respect.
At one period of her life, her correspon
dents were numerous. Amongst them might
be mentioned names, that will long be cher
ished by posterity. The venerable Presi
dent Adams, to whom the second edition of
her View of Religions was dedicated, took
a benevolent interest in her literary success.
From' one of his letters to her, the following
sentence is extracted.
' You and I are undoubtedly related by
birth ; and although we were both " born in
humble obscurity," yet I presume neither of
us have any cause to r^Vet that circum
stance. If I could ever supp^e that famiiy
pride was in any case excusable, I should
think a descent from a line of virtuou* m_
dependent New England farmers, for on«
hundred and sixty years, was a better foun
dation for it, than a descent through royal
or titled scoundrels ever since the flood.'
With the learned Bishop Gregoire, whose
name is familiar in our country as well as
his own, her correspondence continued ma-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 91
ny years. The congeniality of their labors
in the cause of the Jews, as well as general
philanthropy, had made them acquainted
with each other. With Mr Cunningham,
also, Vicar of Harrow, and author of ' The
World without Souls,' she exchauged letters.
From Miss More she received several, all of
which she most highly prized. The late
Mrs Catharine Cappe was among her cor
respondents ; nor can we omit to mention
her letters from the amiable, and distinguish
ed Swedenborgian, Mr Hill. There is one
also among her papers from the venera
ble Bishop Carroll, in reply to a letter of
hers addressed to him. It is with no nar
row feeling we mention names like .these.
We ask not their sect or country. They
belong to the great family of mankind, and
we claim affinity as a rightful inheritance.
The strength of Miss Adams's natural af
fection was proportionate to her social ties.
Of her only remaining sister, and to whom
her memoir is bequeathed in the ' humble
hope that it may be a pecuniary benefit to
her,' she often spoke with deep and ir-

92 LIFE OF
repressible feeling. She sometimes project
ed plans, by which she might have enjoyed
more of the society of her nieces ; but she
submitted to the necessity which separated
her from her relatives without a murmur.
One of her nieces was adopted, and educa
ted by a lady, who fell a victim to consump
tion in the prime of life. Here recollec
tion lingers for a moment. Impelled by a
powerful sense of duty, this lady quitted her
nearest friend, and sought, in the milder
climate of Italy, that health and freedom of
respiration which were denied her here.
She was able to derive much enjoyment
from her short residence in a land that
abounded with objects congenial to her taste ;
but only lived to return, and yield her last
breath in her native country.
As Miss Adams has mentioned her works
in her memoir, in the order in which they
were written, it is unnecessary to say more of
them. They have been reviewed, and
weighed, by a candid public ; and met at the
time the wants of the different departments
in which they were written. Her History of

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 93
New England was a pioneer to many simi
lar works that followed. There is, however,
one work of hers, published in 1804, which
is less known. It is entitled, ' The Truth
and Excellence of the Christian Beligion
exhibited.' This work contains interest
ing, and short sketches of the lives of em
inent laymen, who have written in defence
of the Christian religion, with extracts from
their writings. The characters are select
ed withjudgment and taste, and every cir
cumstance is omitted that does not aid her
purpose. From the preface to ' The Truth
and Excellence of the Christian Religion,'
written by the author, we select one pas
sage. ' In order to prevent any misrepresen
tation of the design of this compilation, it
may be proper to inform the reader, that
these great names, and the testimonies they
have given of their firm belief of the truth
of Christianity, are not adduced to justify a
reliance upon human authority, or to estab
lish the divinity of the christian system ; but
the evidences of revealed religion are still
submitted to, and boldly challenge, the strict-

94 LIFE OF
est scrutiny, by the known and established
rules of right reason.' In connexion with
this idea, she quotes the following lines from
Cowper. ' "Philosophy baptized
In the pure fountain of eternal love,
Has eyes indeed ; and, viewing all she sees,
As meant to indicate a God to man,
Gives him the praise, and forfeits not her own." '
The order and systematic arrangement of
this work is excellent. It was principally
intended for the use of young persons ; and
the characters selected are not wanting in
that sort of interest, which is suited to make
them attractive to the young. The follow
ing anecdote is there related of Grotius.
' This great man was twice sent on em
bassies to England. On his return to Hol
land, he found the religious divisions which
had for some time prevailed in that country
increased. By his attachment to Barnevelt
and the remonstrant party, he incurred the
displeasure of Prince Maurice of Orange.
In 1669, he was seized and sentenced to per
petual imprisonment, and his estate was

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 95
confiscated. In pursuance of this sentence,
he was imprisoned in the strong castle of
Louvestein ; and after having been treated
with great rigor for more than a year and a
half, he was rescued by a stratagem of his
wife. He had been permitted to borrow
books of his friends ; and when he had pe
rused them, they wrere carried back in a chest
with his linen, which was in this way sent
to be washed. During the first year, the
guards were exact in examining the chest ;
but at length grew remiss, and did not take
the trouble to open it. His wife, who be
longed to one of the first families in Zea
land, and was worthy of such a husband as
Grotius, observing their negligence, advised
him to bore holes in the chest to prevent his
being stifled, and then to put himself into
it, and to make his escape. She requested
the governor of the castle to permit her to
send away a chest. After her request was
granted, Grotius was put into the chest, and
conveyed to a friend's house in Gorkum,
where, dressing himself like a mason, and
taking a rule and trowel, he passed through

96 LIFE OF
the market place, and stepping into a boat,
went to Brabant. There he discovered him
self to some of his friend's, and hired a car
riage at Antwerp. At first there was a de
sign of prosecuting his wife, who remained
in the prison. However, she was released
by a plurality of voices, and universally ap
plauded for a resolution and courage which
saved her husband's life, while it endanger
ed her own.'
It would be a pleasant office, in paying
this tribute to the memory of a friend, to
record the names of many whose kindness
and attention to her were unremitting.
Some, like herself, have gone to their long
home ; but others still remain, to continue
their ' noiseless deeds of worth.' One
little incident, which greatly interested her
from the mystery attached to it, is a reason
for mentioning the name of a lady who is
now no more, but who was distinguished for
endowments of mind and person. She
married, and went to Europe during the rev
olutionary war. After passing many years
in England, Scotland and France, she re-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 97
turned to this country, with a mind fraught
with practical knowledge, a heart full of
benevolence, and blest with that happy tal
ent of conversation, that draws forth from
the recipient as much as it communicates.
In this lady's society Miss Adams took the
greatest delight. During their long and
pleasant intercourse of many years, an artist
waited on Miss Adams, and requested her to
sit for a miniature picture of herself : say
ing that he was commissioned to solicit the
favor by a friend. She consented, but was
entirely at a loss to conjecture who the
friend could be. The picture was com
pleted, and in the course of a few weeks
sent to her, with the following note.
My dear Madam — I send you the min
iature for which you had the goodness to
sit. It has been generally recognised, and
thought a good likeness. I hope it will be
as much approved in your room, as it has been
in mine. Now, my dear Madam, you will
discover the friend who was desirous that
you should live in future, in person as well as
9

98 LIFE OF
in mind. I sincerely hope others may feel
as I do on this subject ; and a more valuable
portrait be secured of the lady, whose talents
and writings have diffused so much useful
knowledge, and whose conduct and life has
been so exemplary. After it has been with
you long enough for your friends to see it, I
wish it returned, and to have the honor of
its hanging in my house. If one better cal
culated for the purpose should not hereafter
be taken, I shall bequeath it to the Athe
naeum. With great respect,
Your friend and servant,
Catharine Hay.
Boston, Dec. 25, 1822.
The hope of this lady was accomplished.
A few years before Miss Adams's death,
through the influence of a few friends, a fine
likeness of her was taken by Mr Harding,
and was afterwards presented by them to the
Athenseum. We hope it may not be deemed improper
to mention one other friend, whose life was

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 99
a series of benevolent and disinterested ex
ertions. Immediately previous to Miss Ad
ams's illness, she spoke of this friend with
her accustomed interest ; and with an an
ticipation that they should be fellow-travel
lers to the land of spirits. Mrs Codman's
death took place a few days after that of
Miss Adams. She has left to her friends
those sweet and sacred remembrances, that
soften and elevate the heart ; while the
influence of hf r intelligent, and liberal mind,
will long be felt in the society in which she
lived. The most prominent trait in Miss Adams's
character was sensibility. It was impossible
to converse with her any length of time,
without touching some of the numerous
chords that vibrated through her system.
An instrument thus organized did not require
the skill of an artist to set it in motion.
The feeblest hand could extract notes of joy,
sorrow, or apprehension. It responded to ev
ery breath that passed over it. This sensi
tiveness sometimes put her at the mercy of

100 LIFE OF
the unfeeling and obtrusive. But, generally
speaking, her sensibility was a source of great
enjoyment. Towards her friends it flowed
forth in an affection fervent and enthusiastic.
' The sight of them,' to use her own expres
sion, ' was like the sun and air of Heaven.'
All that was remotely connected with them
became important to her. Those who have
heard her speak of Mr Thacher, the eloquent
and feeling historian of her friend Mr Buck
minster, understood the nature of her emo
tions. She almost identified him with the
being that he so beautifully and justly delin
eated. Brothers indeed they were in the
sacred ties of love and harmony, and in
those qualities of mind that emanate from
the source of perfect wisdom and goodness.
There are many who may apply to both that
touching sentence the survivor applied to his
friend ; ' Even now, when time has inter-
posed to subdue all the more powerful emo
tions of grief, there are those who delight
to recall the hours we have passed with
them, and to dwell on those traits, which we

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 101
loved while living, and which death cannot
efface from our memories.'
Mr Thacher, unlike his friend, was doom
ed to see death approach by slow and falter
ing steps. If there is a trial on earth that
mocks the power of human fortitude, it is to
feel the usefulness of life cut off, and to be
compelled to remain idle during the toils of
the day, while cares and labors are thronging
around. How nobly he endured this afflic
tion, how justly he reasoned that the part
assigned him was to wait, must be well re
membered. The teachings of Heaven are
as various as our wants. This sublime exam
ple of patient endurance has found its way
to many a heart, and spoken more forcibly
than the services even of an active ministry
could have done. His fervent prayer is now
accomplished. He has gone to that world
where ' friendship is uninterrupted, and vir
tue eternal.'
We bless God for the natural evidence of
a future life, which minds like these, bearing
the visible stamp of immortality, afford ; we
9*

102 LIFE OF
bless him that such have existed, and we
bless him that such have preceded those
whom we love, to cast brightness over the
dark valley of death.
We hope this involuntary digression will
be pardoned, and we return again to the
subject of our memoir. We have spoken of
her sensibility and elsewhere of her humility.
This, however, must not be mistaken for that
slothful quiescent sense of inferiority, which
sometimes belongs to common minds. It
was true christian humility ; it was the con
sciousness of high moral capacities, falling
far short of her exalted standard of excel
lence. The sensibility that led her so fully
to appreciate the kindness of her friends,
made her alive to injury. At any attempt at
imposition, her spirit rose proportionably, and
she expressed and felt a resentment for which
she afterwards reproached herself.
Her judgment and opinion of books was
derived from her own power of thought. She
did not wait for the decision of others, but ex
pressed her own fearlessly, when called for.

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 103
But it was on the subject of character that
her mind discovered most acuteness and orig
inality. Even in those whom she loved, she
knew how to discriminate, and when she
allowed herself to speak on the subject,
plainly discovered that she knew how to
separate the good from the evil, and that
she had learned to love them with their
faults. The last visit that Miss Adams made was
to South Boston, in the family of the Su
perintendent of Juvenile Offenders. There
was much in her short residence there to
interest her mind. The success of this in
stitution ; the groups of rescued children,
now cheerful and obedient ; the disinterested
kindness of the family ; nor ought it to be
forgotten, the beautiful situation of the build
ing, overlooking the bay of Boston with its
many islands, the harbor and city rising in
its pyramid of beauty, and crowned by the
dome of the State-house ; all called forth
her enthusiasm, and brightened the last days
of her earthly existence. When she return-

104 LIFE OF
ed to her lodgings in Boston, she lamented
the want of sun and of prospect. By the
instrumentality of judicious friends, she was
removed to Brookline ; and when there, she
wrote the following note to a friend, which,
as the last effort of her pen, is here inserted.
Dear Madam — Will you excuse me if
I trouble you with a few lines. I am now
settled for the winter, if I live. The great
est earthly happiness I can eiyoy is seeing
my friends, among whom dear Mrs  is
in the first rank. I need not inform you,
and I am unable to express, how much pleas
ure it would give me to see you in Brook-
line. The lady I am now boarding with is
all goodness. My trembling hand will
scarcely allow me to write. Adieu, dear
Madam ; pray call upon me as soon as you
can conveniently.
From your affectionate and grateful friend,
H. Adams.
Brookline, Nov. 12, 1831.
The friend to whom the note was address-

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 105
ed hastened to see her. She found her
in a large, and airy apartment. It was
a fine morning ; one of those days in which
' Autumn seems to linger in the lap of Win
ter.' The sun poured its rays into her
apartment to her heart-'s content. She was
bright, and cheerful, and said with a smile
she ' believed some people thought she had
lived long enough ; but she was willing to
emain as long as it pleased God to contin
ue her,' and then added, pointing to the
prospect without, ' how can any body be
impat'ent to quit such a beautiful world !'
But little remains to be added to this
short sketch, and that little perhaps is ex
pressed in the Obituary notice which we
subjoin. OBITUARY.
Died at Brookline, near Boston, on the
15th inst. Miss Hannah Adams, aged seven-
tysix. Her literary labors have been long
before the public, and have made her name
known in Europe as well as in her native

106 LIFE OF
land. Her first work, the ' View of Reli
gions,' was published at a time when this
country had few authors, and when a book
from a female hand was almost without pre
cedent. She was not impelled by any de
sire of fame ; and though the hope of use
fulness was undoubtedly a strong motive to
her literary exertions, yet this would not
have availed, without the prospect of contri
buting by her pen to her own support, and the
comfort of her nearest friends. It is grati
fying to know, that she has left behind a
simple and interesting memoir of her early
life, which precludes the necessity of saying
more of her literary history. Indeed, litera
ry claims are perhaps among the last that, at
a moment like this, present themselves to the
minds of her friends. The virtues and ex
cellences of her character, her blameless life,
her sensibility, the warmth of her affections,
her sincerity and candor, call forth a flow of
feeling that cannot be restrained. To an al
most child-like simplicity, and singleness of
heart, she united a clear and just conception

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 107
of character ; to a deep and affecting hu
mility, a dignity and elevation of thought,
that commanded the respect and veneration
of those around her. Amidst many infirmi
ties she retained the freshness and enthu
siasm of youth. Society never lost its charms.
To the aged she listened with submission and
gentleness ; to the classic and highly gifted,
with a delight almost amounting to rapture.
The young, and there were such who felt
it a privilege to ' sit at her feet,' she viewed
as ' ministering angels' dispensing joy and
gladness. Her love of nature was exhaust-
less. The first beam of morning, the glory
of noon, the last rays of the setting sun, were
objects which through a long life she never
contemplated with indifference. Those
who were in the habit of visiting her, will
recollect how constantly her apartment was
decorated by flowers of the field, or the gar
den. It was her object to gather round her
images of natural and moral beauty. In
many respects her mind seemed so truly con
stituted for enjoyment, that to those who

108 LIFE OF
knew her but slightly, she might have ap-J
peared to be exempted from that mental
discipline, which is gradually leading the
pilgrim on to the land of promise. But her
friends knew otherwise ; they knew how
keen was her religious sensibility, how
tremblingly alive her conscience, how high
her standard of excellence, and how great
her timidity and self-distrust, and they felt
that this was not her haven of rest.
Though Miss Adams's faith was fervent
and devout, it partook of the constitution of
her sensitive mind, rather than gave the tone
to it. Yet amidst moments of doubt and de
spondency, a passage from scripture, or a
judicious observation, would disperse the
clouds that had gathered round her, and the
brightest sunshine would diffuse itself over
her mind and countenance. There are ma
ny who will sorrow that they shall see her
' face no more ; ' but those who knew the
peculiar delicacy of her constitution, ought
rather to rejoice that she has escaped from
the present inclement winter ; from the

MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 109
stormy wind and tempest; that her eyes have
opened upon ' one eternal Spring,' a season
that always awoke the enthusiasm of her
nature, and which she said seemed to her
' like the first freshness of creation.'
It was her happiness to have been conver
sant with some of the most enlightened and
gifted men of the age. From many she re
ceived essential benefit ; and the universal
sympathy and respect, as well as the indi
vidual kindness which she excited, are testi
monies honorable to human nature. Many
in Whom she delighted have passed away.
To those she has gone, and to the Father
and Saviour whom she loved.
The last tribute of respect is, however,
yet to be paid to the honored subject of this
notice. Her remains are to be removed to
Mount Auburn, near Boston, the spot select
ed for a cemetery. Subscriptions for a monu
ment to her memory have been raised, and
it will be erected in the spring. There
seems to be almost a poetical unity in this
10

110 LIFE OF MISS HANNAH ADAMS.
arrangement ; that one who so devoutly
' Looked through nature up to nature's God,'
should be one of the first tenants of a spot,
combining so much natural beauty ; and
which possesses that magnificence of wood
and water, which bespeaks it ' a temple
not made with hands.'

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