Elizabeth Lloyd and the Whittiers: A Budget of Letters [Reprint 2014 ed.] 9780674431294, 9780674180901

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ELIZABETH LLOYD AND

THE WHITTIERS

LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

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ELIZABETH LLOYD

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AND THE WHITTIERS

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A Budget of Letters edited by

Thomas Franklin Currier

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CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS

HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS 1939

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COPYHIGHT, I 9 3 9 BY THE PRESIDENT AND FELLOWS OF HARVARD COLLEGE

PRINTED AT THE HARVARD UNIVBRSITY PRESS CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS, U.S.A.

CONTENTS Introduction

vii

A Key to Initials and Names

xv

Letters

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[v]

B Y W A Y OF

INTRODUCTION

Elizabeth Lloyd stands foremost in the group o f congenial young people with w h o m John Greenleaf Whittier came into intimate social contact during his residence in Philadelphia, in the years 1838, 1839, and 1840. A n attractive and energetic young man, thirty years old, Whittier, at this period, owed his growing reputation less to the poems he had written than to his activities as newspaper editor and anti-slavery propagandist. His successful experience in these roles and his Quaker affiliations made him peculiarly acceptable to the Anti-Slavery Society o f Pennsylvania when its executive committee invited him to come to Pennsylvania to put new vigor into the conduct o f the Society's organ The Pennsylvania Freeman. Whittier threw himself wholeheartedly into his n e w work, but the post o f editor o f an abolition journal in Philadelphia was not a bed o f roses, and his labors were not wholly devoid o f personal peril. T w o months after the new editor had printed his first issue, a pro-slavery mob burned the newly erected Pennsylvania Hall, in Philadelphia, in which the offices o f the Freeman were located, and Whittier, on the evening o f the fire, donned simple disguise and, at some risk, mingled with the mob in order to rescue valuable papers and documents. Describing Whittier's life, during the Phil[vii]

adelphia years, his biographer, Samuel T. Pickard, quotes from a letter written by one who knew him: It was difficult to give many incidents of Whittier's life in Philadelphia; he went so little into social circles, was so quiet, doing steadfast and indefatigable work on the paper, and on committees, a great amount of writing, but very little public speaking; his work was far more prominent than he was. During this exciting period of storm and stress Whittier at times relaxed from his day's labors by sharing the simple and cultured social life of the circle of friends, nearly all of them Quakers, to whom frequent reference is made in the letters printed in the present volume. He did not find himself wholly among strangers on his arrival in Philadelphia, for his cousins, the Wendells, had been living in or near the city for several years, and they welcomed him to their fireside, eager, no doubt, to become better acquainted with this attractive kinsman, whom it is likely they hitherto had known more by his increasing reputation than by cousinly contacts. Anna Austin Wendell was the daughter of Whittier's uncle, Obadiah Whittier; her husband, Isaac Wendell, had come to Pennsylvania from Dover, Ν. H., and was now established in Philadelphia as a manufacturer of textiles. The attractiveness of the Wendell household was increased by the presence there of two daughters, much nearer in age to their "Cousin Greenleaf" than their mother, Anna, his first cousin. Ann Wendell, the older, some three [vüi]

years younger than Whittier, was an invalid, often confined to the house; the younger sister, Margaret, or "Madge," was ten years younger than Ann, and, on November 9, 1842, was married to Elisha Maule, of Philadelphia, being greatly disappointed at the time that Whittier and his sister could not find it possible to come down from Amesbury to Philadelphia to serve as groomsman and bridesmaid. Intimately associated with the Wendell sisters were the clever and lively Elisabeth Nicholson and her irrepressible sister, Martha. W e are indebted to the zeal of Elisabeth Nicholson for the existence of two manuscript volumes, now at Haverford College, into which she painstakingly copied such of Whittier's verse and prose as she could collect. To this group of intimate friends belonged charming Elizabeth Lloyd, whose fascinating portrait is prefixed to a thin volume of letters addressed to her by Whittier after his Philadelphia residence; this volume, edited by Marie V. Denervaud, was published in 1922, by the Houghton Mifflin Company, with the title Whittier's Unknown Romance. Since the printing of these letters Miss Denervaud (now Mrs. Dun) has discovered other letters from Whittier, while letters that Elizabeth Lloyd wrote to Whittier and his sister, Elizabeth, are among the Pickard-Whittier papers now preserved in Harvard College Library. The present volume contains the letters from Elizabeth Lloyd to the Whittiers, found among the Pickard-Whittier papers, the newly discovered letters from Whittier in the possession of

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Mrs. Dun, two letters (January 26, 1841, and March 12/April 7, 1844) from Elizabeth Lloyd, from the Oak Knoll papers in the Essex Institute, Salem, and an extract from a letter (January 4, 1858) from Hannah Lloyd Neall, also in the Essex Institute. Furthermore, four letters (August 28, 1841, and April 1 1 , August 20 and 22, 1842) included in Miss Denervaud's Whittier s Unknown Romance, are here again printed from the original manuscripts, to preserve the continuity of the narrative, and to correct misreadings, chiefly in the case of almost undecipherable names, for Whittier's handwriting when he was hurried will defy the most expert. Elizabeth Lloyd was born in 1 8 1 1 , her father being a strict and orthodox member of the Society of Friends. References in the letters show how carefully he looked after the welfare of his family, even to the extent of veto over the perusal of the plays of Shakespeare. This strict oversight does not seem, however, to have blighted the intellectual development of his daughter. Graceful verse from her pen reveals considerable poetic insight and ability. Her best known poem is "Milton's Prayer of Patience," printed by Miss Denervaud at the close of the volume of letters already mentioned; another poem, "Egypt," was included in the volume The North Star, edited by Whittier for an antislavery fair held in Philadelphia in December, 1839. Margaret Wendell, writing to Elizabeth Whittier, September 8, 1842, includes the following description of her friend: Μ

The Lloyds are all well. Han is as lively as ever and Elizabeth is the same lovable being she ever was. I can't help admiring her, she is so unlike every one else too. I think she is a girl that is very rarely understood at first most every stranger thinks her all poetry and affectation and yet she is so free from it - at least the latter - though I think her poetry is not her only recommendation — she can both think and talk and do other things. It is not strange that such sympathetic and congenial young persons as Elizabeth and Greenleaf, aged twenty-seven and thirty-one respectively, should have been drawn irresistibly to each other, but a careful reading o f the letters here printed and o f other documents has not given any reason to believe that they had, at this time, any serious thoughts o f becoming engaged. Letters printed in Miss Denervaud's book would indicate, however, that later, during Elizabeth's early widowhood, the possibility o f matrimony was seriously discussed between them and rejected. In reading the later letters it should be remembered that in 1853 she had married Robert Howell, o f Philadelphia, w h o died, on January 17, 1856, as a result o f exposure to small-pox. Their married life had been replete with happiness, and Elizabeth was inconsolable at his death. Whittier's editorship o f The Pennsylvania Freeman was, perforce, brought to a close by the state o f his health. T h e experience he had suffered, eight years before, while at Hartford, conducting the New England Weekly Review, was repeated. Throwing himself into [xi]

his w o r k unsparingly, he overtaxed his strength, just as he did in Hartford, suffered periods o f illness, and finally was forced to resign, his connection w i t h the Freeman ceasing on February 20, 1840. During the last months o f his service his sister, Elizabeth, made a long visit to Philadelphia, and was received into the intimacy and friendship o f the circle o f her brother's friends. It is to this visit and to the preservation o f the letters that were exchanged after the return o f brother and sister to N e w England that w e o w e the present volume. In transcribing the letters the editor has had the skilful help o f Mrs. Frederick W i n s l o w , o f Boston, w h o has been unsparing in time and effort. T h e punctuation o f the originals has, so far as possible, been scrupulously followed, and the rare misspellings, even w h e n obvious slips o f the pen, have been copied; but the attention o f the reader is not distracted nor the page disfigured b y the insertion o f an ugly sic. A c k n o w l e d g m e n t is gratefully given to Mrs. D u n for permission to print the letters in her possession; also to Harvard College Library for authorization to publish the letters f r o m the Pickard-Whittier papers, w h i c h were presented to the library b y the son o f Whittier's literary executor, Samuel T . Pickard; and to the Essex Institute o f Salem, for permission to print letters f r o m its O a k Knoll collection o f Whittier correspondence. Especial thanks are due to members o f the L l o y d family w h o have made possible the preservation in this permanent f o r m o f a budget o f letters so interestingly depicting the domestic and social life o f an anti-slavery circle in [xii]

Philadelphia in the early forties, and giving so complete and intimate a knowledge of the delightful young woman who honored Whittier with her friendship. THOMAS FRANKLIN CUBRIER Harvard College Library May, 1939

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A K E Y T O INITIALS A N D N A M E S APPEARING IN THE LETTERS ALUNSON, WILLIAM J. Intimately acquainted with Whittier, and editor o f Friend's Review, Philadelphia, from 1867 until 1872. He was born in Philadelphia, in 1810, was at one time engaged in the drug business, and died June 11, 1874; an obituary notice is in Friend's Review, July 25, 1874. Allinson's son, Francis Greenleaf Allinson, was the boy at whose birth Whittier wrote the poem " M y Namesake"; Francis later became professor o f Greek at B r o w n University. In acknowledgment o f Whittier's poem the father printed in Friend's Review for June 27, 1857, a poem with the title " T o J. Greenleaf Whittier. The Namesake's Response." Whittier's letters o f August 20 and 22, printed by Miss Denervaud and reprinted in the present volume, refer to a visit which Allinson made to N e w England in that month. ANN (A. E. W . ) A n n Elizabeth Wendell was born September 27, 1810; her mother was Whittier's first cousin. A brief account o f the Wendell family is given below. BENJAMIN or "BENNY." Benjamin S. Jones was an energetic young man, active in local anti-slavery gatherings. He was assiduous in his attention to the ladies [xv]

belonging to the intimate circle that centered about the "Wendells and the Nicholsons. He had helped Whittier in the compilation of The North Star, a Christmas gift-book, which had been published to be sold at the anti-slavery fair held in Philadelphia in December, 1839. He was given to writing verse and had put together a collection of rhymes taking off the abolitionists of the day. Typed copies of these rhymes are in existence and it is said that Jones printed them privately, but no copy of the printed form has been reported. CHARLES B. or simply " C H A R L E S . " Charles Calistus Burleigh served as editor of The Pennsylvania Freeman after Whittier had resigned; later in hfe he was one of the founders and first minister of the Free Congregational Society of Florence, Massachusetts.

Ε. N. Elisabeth Nicholson was the daughter of Lindsey and Beulah Nicholson of Philadelphia, and was born October 26, 1810. Her father was a Quaker of some influence and is recorded in the city directories of the day as "Nicholson, L., gent." Elisabeth was the close friend of Elizabeth Whittier, Elizabeth Lloyd, and Ann Wendell. She maintained a copy book into which she transcribed all of Whittier's verse and prose upon which she could lay her hands. This interesting manuscript is still in existence, on permanent deposit, in the Friends' Collection at Haverford College; it has been minutely and interestingly described by Professor Snyder, of Haverford, in The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography, for April, 1938. [xvi]

HAN. Hannah Lloyd, younger sister of Elizabeth Lloyd, born June 8, 1 8 1 7 . She married James Neall of San Francisco on December 8, 1852, and letters from Whittier to her are printed in Marie V . Denervaud's Whittier s Unknown Romance, 1922. LIB N . Elisabeth Nicholson, described above. LLOYD FAMILY. Elizabeth was the eighth of a family of twelve children, the father, Isaac Lloyd, being an influential and orthodox Quaker and prosperous merchant; his business address is given in the directories of the day as 53 South W h a r f , and his home as 88 Union Street. The children mentioned in these letters are Sarah, born in 1807, Elizabeth, born in 1 8 1 1 , and Hannah, born in 1 8 1 7 . Hannah married James Neall, of San Francisco, December 8, 1852. The father died December 2, 1850. Whittier, in a letter of condolence, says of him: From all that I knew of your honored parent, I have ever regarded him as a true, strong, man, fine in the performance of what he felt to be duty, in the church and among his fellow men at large, and with deep and intense affections, not the less strong that they were not always demonstrative. Oh, it is a great loss for you; but his peaceful, triumphant end affords the best consolation. (Whittier's Unknown Romance, by Marie V. Denervaud, 1922, page 10.) M . NICHOLSON. Martha Nicholson, younger sister o f Elisabeth Nicholson, described above. [ xvii ]

MARGARET or " M A D G E . " Margaret Sherburne Wendell, the younger sister of Ann Elizabeth Wendell, was born May 15, 1820, and married to Elisha Maule, of Philadelphia, November 9, 1842. A brief account of the Wendell family is given below.

Sis. Elizabeth Lloyd thus refers to her older sister, Sarah, who was born April 30, 1809. W . J . A. See Allinson, William J . WENDELL FAMILY. Records in the Friends' Record

Office, in Philadelphia, show that on the 26th of Seventh month, 1831, Anna A. Wendell and family were received at the Frankford Monthly Meeting, from Dover, Ν . H., and on January 31, 1832, Anna Wendell requested a certificate from the Frankford Meeting to the Philadelphia Southern Meeting, being received there on April 25, 1832. This Anna Austin Wendell was the oldest daughter of Obadiah Whittier, John Greenleaf Whittier's father's brother. Anna Wendell's husband, Isaac Wendell, had been engaged in the manufacture of textiles in Dover, Ν. H., and had transferred his business to Philadelphia. A granddaughter, speaking of the calicoes he made, told the writer that they "wore forever." The three children recorded in the records of 1831 are Ann Elizabeth, Margaret, and Evert Jansen; there was an older brother, Isaac. Although Anna Austin Wendell was Whittier's first cousin, her daughters were much nearer his age than was their mother; Ann was born September 27, 1810, and Margaret May 15, 1820. [ xviii ]

LETTERS

«φ» φ φ φ φ φ

1. Elizabeth Lloyd to Elizabeth (April,

Whittier

1840)

This letter is dated by its mention of "the last new work, 'Moll Pitcher and The Minstrel Girl.'" These two poems, by Whittier, were published in Philadelphia, in a thin, paper-covered book, about the middle of April, 1840. The reference to Joseph John Gurney, the English Quaker and abolitionist, recalls that under the date of February 16, 1838, in his Memoirs, edited by Joseph Bevan Braithwaite, is the entry, "Fourth day, industrious family visiting; drank tea at I. Lloyd's." M y dear Ε The councils were closed, the packets made up, and the delegation just ready to start, before w e knew a w o r d o f their destination being Amesbury - and I regret it the more, as w e are just in the mood for "Epistles," and I could have written a delightful one to our sister in N e w England. In consideration o f thine to us, thee deserves a sheet o f foolscap closely written; a budget o f all the events moral, social and abolitional, that have occurred since thee left us. O u r little circle is still complete and united, though t w o o f the "seats will soon be forsaken." Thee knew that Margaret had plighted her troth to Ε Maule, and

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Μ Nicholson has since become engaged to his cousin Israel; an early attachment commenced at Westtown, and they are both looking " There's nothing half so sweet in life As Love's young dream" and Han, our happy merry Han, is the confident all round; and what with the notes and messages and consultations she has time for little else. Ε. N . is the same, "ever charming ever new" - Sis and I are busied hither and thither about I scarcely know what, holding to our old doctrine that there is no bond so close and enduring as that which friendship and relationship have both tied - and Ann, dear Ann W . still lies on the sofa suffering much at times but sweet patient and uncomplaining. Our winter excitements have all died away, fairs, lectures, the Earle mania and all. Eliza Earle reminds me always of a character of Miss Edgeworth's, described as having a good kernel, if you could once crack the hard and bitter outside. Her shell is neither hard nor bitter, but she has an outside of tell me what "for thou canst"! I cannot tell thee what is passing in the abolition world, dear Lizzie, for thee knows we belong not to the inner temple though rumours reach even the "outer court worshippers" of sad disunion and disagreements. However, if I were thoroughly baptized into the faith, nothing should shake my confidence in the original creed. I would not turn aside from the old Jordan of [4]

Truth and Justice for any Arbana and Pharphar of the non-resistants and Unitarians. What if the pile which the pioneers and first architects amongst you [erected], should fall? that, is but the superstructure - while the foundation they have laid, is immutable; and will yet support a tower "whose top shall reach to Heaven." I suppose Ε Ν has told thee all about our Yearly meeting - what good things we are having &c. &c. &c. E. Robson, and a number of friends from your green land are with us - and an Ohio prophetess, Mildred Ratcliffe - a true specimen of the Quakers of the olden time, earnest, plain dealing, and sincere, having no unity with our luxuriousness, backsliding, and degeneracy. In her black hood, quaint dress, and unvarnished talk, she seems a vestige of the days gone by; and there she stands, bending with age and infirmity of body, pleading with us to turn back to the ways of our fathers, to walk in the paths to be traced by their blood, and to mind the rules written out by their sufferings telling us, that "Master wont have us upon any such half price as we are willing to pay." "He calls for the old purchase money of humility and self denial." The White's, H. and R. enquired very affectionately after thee - asked what thee said in thy letter to us, and when we answered it, begged to be remembered to thee. The last evening of the sewing society was most interesting. W e had a journal read, kept by Friend Gurney's companion in the W . Indies. On one of the Islands J. J. G. attended a Sabbath day school, instituted [5]

by an old master and mistress, for their freed slaves. They called upon Friend G. to name the place - and he replied - "I would call it Bethesda, which in the Jewish language signifies the waters of Mercy! " O n another occasion, a young lady asked him at parting how, or by what, he would remember them? " B y t w o words," said he, "Greenness & Kindnessl" O u g h t I to apologize for writing without leave' I do it because I do not want thee to think thy orthodox friends are all icicles, and was afraid some such "northern notion" had prevented thee f r o m writing to us. The last new work, is "Moll Pitcher and The M i n strel girl." Poems by John G Whittier, done up in such a blue paper cover ballad style, that I must get m y copy rebound, before I can half enjoy reading it. Sis and Han are running up every moment with messages for thee, which, with a great deal more of very interesting matter, must be crowded out for want of room - I should have taken a whole sheet but thought not to overwhelm thee with our generosity write soon to thy friend Ε Lloyd Jr. [The following postscript is in Ann Wendell's hand]: Elisabeth Lloyd did not seal this so clumsily Ann E. Wendell did it

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2.

Elizabeth Lloyd to Whittier (July, 1840) Frequent mention is made in letters written at this time of a proposal, discussed by Whittier and Elizabeth Lloyd, to write a poem that should have for its theme the rise and growth of Quakerism. I am delighted with thy idea, Greenleaf - and it is strange that thou shouldst have given form and substance to a vague desire that has often floated thro' m y brain, of seeing something like a corner-stone laid for a Quaker temple of literature. And thou art the man to undertake it - to humour the "anti imaginative" spirit of thine own people, and at the same time by thy peculiar touches of strength and beauty, to expand our inherent tendencies toward mere truth and soberness, into a stronger love (that will produce good works) of the self forgetting nobleness of primitive Quakerism. The varieties in the natural characters of our forefathers, some of those thee mentioned would be good ground for the beautiful. The depth and fervour and intensity of their love to God, which sent them forth, even while their human heart strings were quivering and cracking with agony - to the dungeon and to death, in the cause of Truth, would befit the lofty and sublime. The agency and influence which their doctrines exerted in bursting the coil, that the lumbering superstitions of the past had wrapped about the human mind [7]

at the time of their arising - though so much built upon now by their ease loving followers, might be justly and strikingly brought into view; and this would be the part for the world - those amongst men, who consider Quakerism, but another name for narrow-mindedness and bigotry, and the doctrine of human rights, as understood and advocated by our noble pioneer, the far seeing Penn, and others, but treason. The characters of our women too, their beautiful faith, devotedness and fortitude, which come, not of the sect but by nature, would most fittingly adorn the annals of Quakerism. Thee would not approve the monthly meeting cant, or have any thing of our ludicrous quaintness wouldst thou? but rather lay the foundation for a pure and correct taste, than minister to one [odd?] and vitiated. I have never seen the Wordsworth sonnets alluded to - but will look at them, to understand thy plan. Thy idea only wants the setting of J. G. Whittier's poetry to make it the richest jewel on his crown of fame. But I would have thee lay it by, uncut and unpolished, till restored health and the quiet occupations of a home life will allow thee to work upon it without paying the price, which has been the penalty of too many of thy literary labours. Thee had a double motive, hadst thou not, in mentioning the subject? - one, for its own interest, and the other to remind me that it is not good for us to [8]

dwell too much upon our own little petty grievances. Thanks for the hint. Nothing, in kindness and good feeling sent, comes amiss to me, whether it be unmerited praise - or deserved reproof. Thy friend Ε ϋ ζ ώ Lloyd Jr. 4th day morning. 3The Whittiers to Elizabeth Lloyd (July 13, 1840) In the postscript to this letter Whittier mentions a poem, "Flushing Oaks," and refers to it as having been written by Elizabeth Lloyd. He was surely misled, for in the letter of November 2, 1840 (printed beyond), it is made clear that a copy of a poem on this subject had been sent on to Amesbury and that it was by William J. Allinson. In Elizabeth Whittier's long postscript, the initials S and Η must refer to Elizabeth Lloyd's sisters, Sarah and Hannah; "the sisters Ν " would be Elisabeth and Martha Nicholson; and "Madge and Η and Μ " are, without doubt, Margaret Wendell, Hannah Lloyd, and Martha Nicholson, Margaret and Martha being at the time engaged. Compare a similar reference in Elizabeth Lloyd's letter of April, 1840. Amesbury, 1 3 ^

mo 1840.

My dear friend Elisabeth Lloyd need not be surprised if I embrace the opportunity of a friends starting for Philad?. to assure her that I have by no means relinquished the "concern" expressed to her just be[9]

fore I left the city, relative to a volume of Quaker Poetry. On the contrary the more I have thought of it the more truly desirable it seems to be; and I am more & more persuaded that I have fixed upon the person of all others to do justice to the idea, which without much vanity, I may say, is a good one. I admit thy adroitness, Elisabeth, in misunderstanding my first note, and speaking of the matter as if I had made no personal application of it, but in this I mean to be most explicit. In plain terms I think thou art the very person to carry out the idea. I am not going to say anything which could be construed into an attempt to flatter one whom I so highly respect as thyself; but, in all honesty, I must be allowed to say that I know of no person, in our religious society, in this country or in Europe, who could do it so well as thyself; or, in other & fewer words, could do it at all. As to my doing it that is out of the Question. I would if I could - thou mayst rest assured - but independent of other considerations, I do not wish to tax m y mind with any very serious effort. One thing however, I may propose viz: that myself and sister will attempt some of the sketches; and in this way make up a small volume between us. Let me for instance, as that is rather more in my line, take the sketch of the moral & political state of England at the period when George Fox arose. - Thou couldst delineate the beautiful characters of Margaret Fell - of the devoted & high-born Gulielma - so "exceeding fair & comely to look upon" as Ellwood hath it; -

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the glorious energy of Edward Burrough - Nayler Audland - Penn & & Sis w d do something in her way. Would this be any better than my first proposition? Or w f there be objections to making one of such a trio? If so - why, do not expect to escape me I am inflexible - not to be persuaded out of my opinion on this matter - the thing must be done - and thou must do it. It is Destiny - Fate - so with the resignation of a disciple of Islamism, thou wilt do well to submit to it. M y idea is that the Book should begin with a sketch of the state of the times of Geo. Fox's rise then a description of the young enthusiast in his early exercises & labors - & trials & openings of truth, divided into three or four or perhaps half a dozen sections - or paragraphs, headed appropriately, as for instance the account of his temptation with doubt described on page 51, ist vol. of the old edition of 1709, might be headed The Temptation. His imprisonment at Darby &c "The Prison." When he comes to Swarthmore, Margaret Fell & her family might be the subject of another section, followed with delineations of the characters of the early converts to the truth, Dewsbury, Nayler, Burrough, Richard Farnsworth, and others in the order of their convincement. B y taking Sewall's History & running it over, thou wilt see what passages & events are fitted for the purposes of poetry. Wilt thou at all events give the matter a serious consideration, and not decide lightly against me? I have for myself written nothing of consequence

for the last six months. When at Rhode Island the news of the death of our dear friend Daniel Wheeler deeply affected me, & I have penned a few lines to his memory. It is possible I may publish them & if so will send thee a copy. Thou wilt excuse this letter if it be incoherent & rambling, when I tell thee that I am writing in extreme haste, thermometer at somewhere near ioo° above zero, & with a tooth-ache very closely resembling that described by Burns as conveying an idea of "forty imps riding post-haste from one extreme of his jaws to the other." With kindest remembrances to thy sisters, I am Very truly thy friend, John G. Whittier. P.S. Wilt thou write me soon & give me thy ideas on the subject - I doubt not thy ideas will be clearer & more definite than mine; for truly I am not good for settling the details of any plan. "Spirits" indeed "pass before me" but like those which troubled the night-slumbers of the Temanite "the form thereof is not discerned." That Lyceum address of thine has one or two thoughts in it which have afforded me so much pleasure that I cannot forbear to mention them; for instance: "Doctrines dark & cold form the current of human thought, as the [?] and stem in its native bud ere light from above . . . the germ in them," [Perhaps not deciphered correctly.] and again, "The beautiful God-

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dess. . . . Her living presence was never felt. In Greece 'twas an 'unknown God.' " In travelling with Richard Mott from Y.M'g I chanced to repeat the Ist verse of thy "Flushing Oaks" Richard was highly pleased, & wanted the piece & I gave him a copy. Was I to blame? - J . G. W . Would our excellent friend Elisabeth Nicholson be willing to aid in the work? Since my unfortunate attempt to make some verbal amendments in her spirited ballad "Granada" - & thus in the words of Lamartine, attempt to bring Fruit to the orange tree laden with gold To offer the orient daybreak more light And stars to the sky when 'tis glorious at night an undertaking which I am now free to confess left the piece, like the ghost of Sheridan's Irishman "improved in the wrong w a y " - I have not ventured to scarcely speak to Ε. N. about poetry. I do not think she has forgiven me, & I am not quite certain that she ought to. 13th of 7th Mo. 1840 Dear E. L. Greenleaf has left me only the margins and the space on the fourth page. A friend is just leaving unexpectedly for Philada - Greenleaf is going this morning to Boston, from thence in the Britannia to Halifax perhaps - he would write thee one word, he said, and leave the rest for me - but [13]

he has written so much - and I k n o w he has made a naughty promise. O h ! Libby L. has thee remembered me, and thought me ungrateful, unkind I wast thou ever sick, and yet not sick - enough so to make wearisome for their ceaselessness, life's quietest wheels when perhaps thou wast unable to write, read or work, and even thinking was unrest. For the last t w o months if I have not been sick I have been very idle - I live out of doors a great deal - somewhat like Coleridge's hermit who, "Lives in a wood Which slopes down to the sea And who loves to talk with the mariners Who come from a far countree." Dear E. L. - Greenleaf's plan is delightful - h o w strange - but it instantly found a joyful response in m y mind as if I had dreamed the same before - forgive me, but I must tell thee that thou hast ever seemed in the clearness, to be just fitted for Quaker ministrelsy. And Elisabeth, the sorrow of those w h o obey not their call will be thine, if thou fail to awaken this slumbering melody. Dear Ε. N . - she will I k n o w help thee play on these unused strings. I have a picture in m y eye of such a glorious w o r k - the poetry of our true faith! O h ! it would show beautiful as the rose plant of Jericho. But would Greenleaf have me mar the sweet harmony; 'Twould be a sin - 1 could not do it! I wonder if you are all the same you were last winter,, when thee, and S and Η used to come [H]

round together with the sisters Ν to see our dear patient Ann - and when Madge and Η and Μ held wonderful and solemn councils of love to which I was never favored to enter. Then when the North Star was "coming out" and Benjamin came hourly to the unfortunate tributary [?].'Wonder when I shall see you all again. So all is silence at 133 So.Sixthsitting desolate, the familiar rooms - poor Isaac! I never felt more anxious for one I have seen so little— but he is very good - the quietness of Ann, and the playfulness of Madge bended [blended] in himselfGreenleaf has told me of something of thine - something he says is "grand" - has told me some lines wont thee let me see it? Than "Gold of Pactolus 'twould be more precious." 'Twould be presumption to ask thee to write to me when thee have anything good to do - but when I am well again I shall not always keep my friends in silent remembrance. If Madge is at LaGrange what has become of Elisha? Tell Han that in our "village of wheels" we have just been favored by a new glorious village spire. Tell her I dont think it is my cousin of the dark locks thus pillared before me. If I did, I should become another Don Quixote and go to his rescue. However, if our friend is not in the city or at La Grange - why I will make enquiries here. Please give my love to all I love. Thee know how many they are. My dear love to Ε. N. and her sisters, to H. R. White. [15]

Dost thou see much of Eliza Earle and hast thou broken her shell - the most valuable fruit Libby has the closest covering - dearest love for thy sisters and for thyself forever E.Whittier What can the matter be my blue ink is giving strange hues to the paper.

4Whittier to Elizabeth Lloyd (August 14,

1840)

The phrase, "a duplicate of my poetry," at the beginning, is explained by the fact that the letter is written on the blank pages of a copy of the leaflet edition of Whittier's poem, "To the Memory of Daniel Wheeler," this being the form in which the poem first appeared in print, July, 1840, executed in this fashion to facilitate its distribution among friends. In 1840, a world's convention of the friends of emancipation was held in London. Whittier had been appointed a delegate to represent the Pennsylvania Anti-Slavery Society (Eastern district), but the poor state of his health prevented his going; this meeting was the occasion of his poem, "The World's Convention." Whittier's Philadelphia friends were much disappointed that he could not be present at this important meeting, and Elisabeth Nicholson, in the verses printed beyond, at the head of Elizabeth Lloyd's letter of December 6, 1840, pokes fun at the [16]

"bard's" attending a Germantown quarterly meeting when he should have been in London. The refusal of the managing committee of the London convention to admit accredited women delegates from the United States to the full privileges of male delegates created much excitement and the meeting became almost as famous from the standpoint of "women's rights" as from that of anti-slavery. Amesbury, 8 th M o . 14 t h 1840 Dear friend. Excuse me for sending thee a duplicate o f m y poetry, as I do not happen at this moment to have any other sheet than this to write upon. T h y letter to Sis & myself was rec d during m y absence, as I have just reached here after a tour o f one month, " D o w n East." I dont half like the tone o f thy letter it is too decided - too "right up & d o w n " as w e Y a n kees say, in its refusal to carry into execution one o f the most glorious plans ever suggested. A n d for such reasons t o o ! - I give thee all reasonable credit for sincerity - but this entire unconsciousness o f the possession o f intellectual p o w e r on thy part I cannot account for. It does not accord w i t h m y experience; and it must be that the Phrenologist w o u l d find on examination thy organ o f self-esteem sadly deficient. T o be serious, however, I am disappointed - vexed almost. I saw, and still see that thou art the only person w h o could do justice to such a subject - and, the plan o f the undertaking suggested itself to me, solely in reference to thyself - I had no idea o f writing any part o f it. - A s for me, m y relish for poetry

[17]

is as strong as ever - but the pleasure of composition has in a great degree ceased. It has become all taskwork. The last eight years of my life have been devoted to the cause of the slave - and I have found little leisure for literary pursuits. Now, if my health permits, I must do something for myself, & labor with head, or hands if necessary, for the maintenance of that pecuniary independence, which every honorable mind must seek for. Hence, I shall have no leisure for such an effort. The cause to which I stand pledged, will demand all the time & talent I can bestow, apart from the duties of ordinary life. To carry out the plan myself, is out of the question; and I now throw upon thee the responsibility, of putting a quietus to the whole matter, by perversely persisting in thy refusal to do what thou alone canst do. - If I had never had any other evidence that "thou art the — woman," to write such a poem, than that afforded by thy letter alone, it would be conclusive. Thy clear & definite idea of the plan and arrangement - the truth, beauty, & justice of thy remarks upon the introduction, - show in despite of thy disclaimers that thou hast the power, if not the will, to do justice to the truths of Quakerism - to the excellent memories of its holy confessors & martyrs - to overhang with flowers the hedges of its "strait & narrow way" - to substitute for its uncouthness of apparel "The Athenian gracefulness - the airy fold Around Correggio's virgin sofdy drawn" I 18]

and for its nasal tone and conventicle cant, words & tones like those which Moore has somewhere so beautifully described: "— speaking the Truth so sweetly well They dropped like Heaven's serenest snow And all was brightness where they fell." There is one passage in thy letter, Elisabeth, which I would do w r o n g to pass without notice: I allude to that which seems to imply that I am fitted for such a w o r k by m y spiritual experience, and Christian advancement. I would it were so - but, I feel daily, that m y heart is not fixed - that m y Faith is weak - that in me, of myself, is no good thing. I am at the best, a sinful and unworthy servant. H o w it is with thyself I k n o w not. God grant of his exceeding mercy, that the talents He has entrusted to thee, may prove a blessing & not a snare in thy possession. For myself, I have laid upon strange altars, the offerings which should have been consecrated to Truth, and Holiness, and even n o w "evil is present with me." It may be true, as thou say, that I do not k n o w thee as well [as] thou dost myself, still I think I have formed a correct estimate of thy character. I regret that I did not earlier become acquainted with thee; - the truth was I had somehow received the impression that the cause of Emancipation found no favor in thy eyes, and that m y honest enthusiasm would only furnish occasion for thy wit and satire. Hence, when I used to meet thee occasionally, I was guarded, re[19]

served, &, I suspect, by no means comprehensible. I was so annoyed, and distressed, by the remarks of some of our Orthodox Friends that I really felt unsafe with all -1 seemed to stand alone - without sympathy, save among the "Heretics." I felt too that I was looked upon with suspicion from the fact that I was so intimately associated with the Hicksites, in the Anti Slavery Society, and I was too proud, perhaps, to place myself voluntarily in the way of hearing or seeing anything inconsistent with my own ideas of self-respect. By this course, if I have not enjoyed as much positive happiness as I might otherwise have done I have at least escaped much that to a sensitive mind would have been mortifying and galling. But, enough of this. I was somewhat premature in pledging my Sister to aid in the "Portraiture," as she positively declines and I take this occasion to formally withdraw myself from the proposed copartnership - especially as I seem to stand "alone in my glory" - 1 throw the whole responsibility upon thee. I am serious and in earnest. I believe thou art precisely fitted for such an undertaking - nay I know it. For the sake of our illunderstood but beautiful faith - 1 entreat thee to reconsider thy resolution. Any assistance I can render shall be cheerfully given; and I shall esteem thy compliance with my request, one [of] the highest favors ever bestowed upon me, the idea is such a favorite one with me. I suppose thee has seen all about the World's Con[20]

vention? - It will I am persuaded do a great amount of good. With such men as Birney, Stanton, Phillips, &c from this country, Count Anthoine D'Isambert, & Cremieux the eloquent Jewish barrister, of Paris - Clarkson, O'Connell, Buxton, & the noble host of English Quakers - as members, - with delegates from Canada, U. S., West Indies, from Sweden, Spain France, Hayti, East-Indies, & South Africa, it is impossible but that its deliberations will be followed with good. But alas for Garrison & the women's right party. "All this availeth nothing so long" as Lucretia Mott couldn't sit as a member. - Only think of a discussion on the abstract rights & appropriate sphere of women in the World's Anti-Slavery Convention! One would suppose by the talk of that party, that all the rest of the world had adopted the doctrine of Muhomet, or held with the Targum of the Rabbi Abenezra that it would be "better for the book of the Law to perish than fall into the hands of women without souls" - and that women in England and the U. S. were slaves and "chattels personal," when as every body knows they have been content to yield to the self-styled lords of creation the empty name of authority the better to secure to themselves the reality. Why not let us remain indulged with this harmless idea of precedence and sovereignty? As the Sophist said to Cicero "After having subdued us in so many other ways, it is cruel in them to invade our fancied superiority." Has thee ever read Prof Longfellow's poems [21]

"Voices from the Night" > - His "Psalm of Life" is I think beautiful and instructive. He has been with me D o w n East. John Neal, & his sister, also - a singular erratic genius John is - but in his home & dispensing his elegant hospitalities and enlivening with his good natured wit all around him he is unrivalled. His wife is a cousin of ours. - With kindest remembrances to thy sisters & with as the Diplomatists say, "sentiments of the highest consideration" I am very truly thy friend John G. Whittier. Elisabeth I believe has written thee. For my share of thy letter thou hast my thanks sincerely & heartily. M y present scrawl is I am aware a poor expression of them. I hear that Dr. Earle has written a remarkably beautiful piece this summer; - Hast thou seen it? And by the by hast thou sent him a copy of the "Herbarium" - that which lacked but little of setting half a dozen good friends " b y the ears" - He ought to see it. There are passages in it of original beauty. The sunset of the Past on Tanis Sea - throwing its Titian splendors over the wave which was soon to cover it forever - Milton's outward blindness & inward illumination - and those glorious lines which have haunted me ever since I heard them "I have laid off Pompeii's shroud And seen that sleeper's lovely face [22]

Bright as when in the fire-wrought cloud She went down to her burial place." &c. It is too bad that such a poem should be placed under lock & key. It is not in its place by any means & I should not wonder if our friend Elizabeth Nicholson, should imitate the example of the student of Madrid in Le Sage's "Diable Boiteux" and liberate the imprisoned spirit. I suppose thou sees little of Cousin Wendell's family this summer. When I think of Ann & her patience, entire resignation - cheerfulness, and lively interest in the welfare & happiness of all around her - her lively faith - & Christian graces of humility & self-denial, and contrast her with myself, I feel as if we were too widely separated to meet together in that "better land" for which she seems so eminently fitted. 5Elizabeth Lloyd to John G. Whittier (September 26, 1840) Philad-a 9th mo 26th. I thought, Greenleaf, after reading thy letter for the first time, there was nothing left for me to say; but considering that we have fallen upon "evil days," when our "Rights" are denied abroad, and laughed at at home, I concluded it would never do to forego that ancient privilege of "the womankind" of having [23]

the last words on a subject. It was really very cruel of thee, when I made thee father confessor, to hang this yoke of responsibility about my neck. It is neither light nor easy, I assure thee. I therefore beg a remission of penance, and if thou dost not let the "oppressed go free," I must consider thee as recreant to thy principles - an apostate from the true faith. Regarding the subject of our correspondence, I do not mean to indulge thee with another grave discourse thereupon, seeing that my wisdom is all lost upon thee, but I have one more word to say. The prospect, touching myself, is still utterly dark - there is a thick cloud about me that I cannot see through, and it is the custom of our people thou knows to walk only in the light; and I propose that we consider the design not dropped but suspended - in Congressional phrase, "laid on the table." I regret, thou wert not more explicit in the beginning. I did not misunderstand thy first note on purpose and if its meaning was plain, sheer dulness prevented me from comprehending it. I regret it, because if I had seriously thought of such a work for myself, I should not have suffered my fancy to roam so far and wide. Some simple plan would have suggested itself, fitted to my power of execution. Now, I cannot go back. Nothing short of an extended, liberal, and comprehensive treatment of the subject, not only of Quakerism itself, but of its branches, connexions, and magnificent results, which I think we may perceive now, in the movings of our principles upon the agitated "deep of public opinion" - would [ M ]

content me. Nothing short of such a work as no woman has ever produced. I have all along considered the matter as thy affair not mine - until I received thy last letter; and as the subject opened to me in all its breadth and depth and elevation, I felt more and more convinced, that thou wert not serious about my scaling its heights - and sounding its depths, and compassing its gigantic proportions. W e have misunderstood each other. W e have both had a splendid superstructure in view, and because my curiosity and earnestness has led me into every nook and corner of the edifice, thou hast mistaken a mere recital of what I discovered for the power of an architect. Thou hast read in my vision of "Pillar and shrine, and life like statue, seen Graceful and pure the marble shafts between," skill to fashion the rough block into grace and life — to round the massive column into just proportion, and to chisel the exquisite carving of the capital. Nothing could tempt my unpractised hand to such rashness not even thy praise - for which I assure thee I am not ungrateful. Regarding thyself, Greenleaf, I believe I owe thee an apology for urging the work so strongly upon thee. M y interest in the undertaking was my only motive, added perhaps to a wish to see thee do something that would bring thee, crowned with a laurel wreath, among thine own people. In thy present state of health - and of mind - occupied in settling some plan of life for the future, I see that thou couldst

not enter upon it without being overburdened. T h y time certainly should be for thyself first - for the world, afterward. But here am I writing on and on about what thou wilt not care to hear, losing sight of m y grand object - which is, to make thee acknowledge that I am a very good girl after all, not at all given to perverseness, and with plenty of self esteem, by sending thee a piece of m y o w n poetry. The truth is, I felt as if I owed thee something for thy disappointment, and as I could not reach the fruit thee wanted, even by stretching on tip-toe, I thought perhaps thee would accept what has grown upon the low branches of a tree of "thine o w n planting." It is very simple, but there are some thoughts I think thou wilt approve. SUGGESTED BY THE CONVENTION OF THE BRITISH A N D FOREIGN A N T I

SLAVERY

SOCIETY OF

1840

There are beautiful gifts from our father land! There hath floated across the wave, A lamp for the feet of the weary band, Who shoulder to shoulder, and hand in hand, Are perilling all for the slave. Oh! welcome and soft are the airs that blow From Sympathy's ever green clime, To the heart, that athirst, and feebly, and slow, Thro' the desert of Duty must patiently go, In an evil and threatening time. And Truth, from the strong is an arm of power; Where the weary may trustfully cling, [26]

For renewal of strength when the strife clouds lower For fellowship still in the bitterest hour Reproach can upon them bring. Did the soul-stirring voice of our Minstrel go up? Did the spirit of brotherhood wake, When he summon'd the nations together to sup, To drink at one table one baptism cup For the perishing bondman's sake? Yes! England has heard it! and Erin doth send, By the Hp of O'Connel reply; The voices of Christian and Israelite blend And peans from answering Europe ascend, As that peace breathing summons goes by. From those beautiful isles in the Caribbee sea, Where the blossoms of Freedom are blowing, Where England's dark children are chainless and free, And balm from the leaves upon Liberty's tree On the wounds of their bondage is flowing From Britain's stronghold in our "Land of the West," Where the slave hunter's trail is unknown, Where unbroken and sweet is the bond-woman's rest, As she foldeth her wan clinging babe to her breast, And counteth God's gift as her own From those rich Eastern lands which the poet hath told Where the air is all fragrance & balm, Where the windows are curtained with festoon & fold Of the myrtle and rose - where the floors are of gold, And the ceilings of cocoa & palm,

[^7]

But, alas! where we hear on each spice laden breeze The famishing infant's low wail, And in every rich freight that is sweeping the seas, Wrung from starving Hindoo and the crush'd Bengalese, Oppression's soul-harrowing tale. From the hot scorching climes, where an age-thicken'd cloud Is at length slowly rolling away, And between its rent folds, o'er a dark human crowd, In idolatrous blindness and ignorance bowed, Is breaking the pure light of day The Disciples of Freedom have answered that call! From the pine covered hills of the North, T o those far away realms where the evening dews fall On the jungles & tangled cane groves of Bengal, Are her messengers hastening forth. And what are the Gifts which a world gathered band Have laid at my countrymen's feet? These beautiful lessons! that all creeds may stand On Philanthropy's platform - and there, hand in hand, Her disciples, in one faith may meet. What is it, that one, more devoudy will feel As he murmurs his Ave and prayer Before pictured Madonna, or sculptured appeal To his heart's best affections - that soft can unseal The fountains of tenderness there? What is it if one Christian brother partake B y an outward and visible sign

[28]

Of Christ's body and blood? that his faith will awake As he eats of the symbol which holy hands break, And drinks of the consecrate wine. What is it, if Sacrament, Love feast, & Mass, Be to one, but an age-hallowed rite; Like some old Gothic window of rich-stained glass, Thro' which to his heart's inner temple could pass But a dim, coloured ray of The Light? And what, tho' the voice of the Hebrew be dumb When Christians are bowing the knee, That he knows not the ransom, & counts not the sum Which was paid for his race, when the Shiloh had come Unto whom should their gathering be? As Truth, when her finger is sufier'd to sweep The Spirit's invisible strings Calls out but one language - strong, holy, and deep, So Philanthropy's fountains wherever they leap Gush forth from the same hidden springs; Be the lesson learn'd oer by our bretheren here! When the dark flood of discord is swelling, Let them turn from its loud angry rushings, to hear The voice "that goes sofdy" - that quiet & clear The wrongs of the bondman is telling. By every sad thought of the slave's bitter lot By the bleeding and manacled limb By the mind's darken'd chamber where light cometh not, Be every unholy dissension forgot, That would weaken the strong arm for him.

[*]

By the Love, persecution & peril have nursed, By their brotherhood's beautiful chain, Which foes from without had no power to burst Let the white wing of Peace, which was o'er them at first Be gently unfolded again. Friend Wendell's family have returned to Philada. It is pleasant to have them back again - and I do enjoy to see Ann in Sixth Street again. My friends each occupy a separate and distinct place in my interest and affection. The absence of one, is never made up by the presence of another. Perhaps it is so with all of us. As Bulwer said of Scott - "Even greater than he may arise - those may come after him who will go up higher on the hills he trod - they may come in and occupy but they can not fill his place - they may be more, but they cannot be he." I have sometimes wondered, Greenleaf, in being with Ann Wendell, and marking the purity of her mind and character, over which the winds of evil seem scarcely to have blown, whether in some hearts, the serpent's head was not bruised, before he had lifted it up to shed there his deadly poison. I am afraid none of the family return improved in health. They seem rather less discouraged about Isaac, but very anxious about Friend Wendell. Ann feels every thing - but "gives no sign" - she continues to suffer, sweetly, patiently and unmurmuringly as ever. I often think of what thee said that she deserved to be well. Sister's remembrances to thyself and Ε Han says thee slighted her by not asking her to write some [30]

Quaker poetry - and Sis thinks the book might have been written while we were settling preliminaries. Thee would have enjoyed our Conferences thereupon - and to hear Lib Ν talk about it. Did Ann tell thee of her saying "Greenleaf is inspired - but he says Elizth Lloyd doth preach." It is the best thing yet - As to thy "Bringing fruit to the orange tree laden with gold" - thou may rest assured of her forgiveness she is incapable of cherishing resentment toward her friends - and she bade me assure thee she was delighted with the compliment to her poetry, and considered the postscript the best of a letter always - thy friend Ε Lloyd Jr To account for the date of this letter I must tell thee I was keeping it for a private opportunity because I wanted to send you quite a packet of new poetry: "The Bunker Hill Monument" by Ε Ν - and "Thereby hangs a tale" - W . J. A's "Farewell to J. J. Gurney" - and those of E's touching the matter of a certain "Bard of our day" sitting himself quietly down at Germantown Q. Meeting, when he should have been on his way to the "World's Convention." "Alas for the Causel and alas for romance! And the women whose Rights should have shivered his lance," &c. &c. &c. But no messenger appears - and as my things must go at the right time, or never - inasmuch as they spoil by keeping -1 thought I would not run the risk of another quarrel with thee. The best, shall be forth[3i]

coming but thou hast no curiosity - and therefore wilt not be anxious to see it. Please to give my love to Elizabeth and tell her now that the time of coal fires and evening assemblages has come, we begin to feel as if one of our last winter's circle was missing. Her acquaintance - and sojourn among us is still a green spot - but the greenest spots will fade - if not sometimes watered by the dews of remembrance - Does she ever hear from her friend Benjamin of the "literary vampyre" genus? If she has not, she will, very soon - for he is "on the prowl for poetry" again, to make up another Book - I consider it a most appalling announcement. W . J. Allinson spent the morning with me, very interestingly - 1 do enjoy his conversation - He inquired for thee and Ε and talked "Whittier poetry" delightfully. Your friends all hold you in remembrance. Greenleaf, I have not before had an opportunity of thanking for thy lines "To the Memory of Daniel Wheeler." The second copy came very opportunely; for the first had been borrowed by a friend of mine, who makes it a point to relieve me of whatever I happen to value, without the slightest intention of returning "such trifles." If I had not made up my mind to praise J. G. W . "no more forever" I would tell thee how much I liked it - N o w I think the flowers of imagination are never so beautiful as when worked on a drab coloured ground of truth and soberness - and that the poet never gives stronger evidence of his holy calling than [32]

when he distinguishes between what the fancy may play upon - and upon what she may not touch - and discerns, that what God hath purified he cannot make more pure, that when His hand hath taken away the "dross and the tin and the reprobate silver" the pure gold needs no refining. It is appreciated generally here.

6. The Whittiers to Elizabeth

Lloyd

(November 2, 1840) Moses Austin Cartland, to whom reference is made as conducting the high school at Weare, Ν. H., was a cousin of the "Whittiers, and had taught at Friends' School, in Providence, R. I., from 1831 to 1834; during the summer of 1839 he had substituted for Whittier as editor of the Pennsylvania Freeman. On the occasion of Cartland's death Whittier wrote the poem, "A Memorial." In the fourth paragraph of this letter Whittier mentions "our North Star." This was a gift-book which he had edited to be sold at an anti-slavery fair, held in December, 1839, in Philadelphia. The book is of interest in connection with the present volume of letters, not alone because it contains the first printing of Whittier's poem, "The World's Convention," but because it includes, also, Elizabeth Lloyd's "Egypt," and poems by Elisabeth Nicholson and Benjamin S.Jones. Abby Kelly (not Kelley), so strikingly portrayed in the latter part of this letter, was afterwards Abby Kelly Foster, a Boston woman, vigorous advocate of women's rights and the abolition of negro slavery. The communication [33]

concerning the London Convention, which Whittier mentions as having been sent to Burleigh, was printed, after some delay, in the Pennsylvania Freeman of November 19, 1840. Amesbury,

ill 1 } Month, 1840

Dear friend, Thy letter, with the beautiful poetical transcript accompanying it, was received a few days before I left, in company with Elisabeth & my Mother, for the Weare, Ν. H. Quarterly Meeting. We were absent nearly two weeks & I now embrace the first moment of leisure to answer it. And first of all let me thank thee for thy kind trouble of transcribing thy lines upon the Convention. I have read them with unalloyed delight. Apart from their beauty & freshness of thought & feeling I was pleased above all with the moral which they inculcate, and with the touching appeal contained in the closing stanzas. There is one verse which sister E. thinks is beautiful exceedingly, — "an age-hallowed rite; Like some old Gothic window of richly stained glass Through which to his heart's inner temple could pass But a dim, colored ray of 'The Light' " I do not know Elisabeth, as I am a proper & impartial judge of thy writings. I find so much in them to which my spirit responds - they seem so much like a happy transcript of my own unuttered feelings - thoughts which have "tarried in my brain & peopled its inner [34]

chambers" - expressed in new & fitting language that I may be unduly sensitive to their beauties & blind to their defects. Be that as it may I thank thee sincerely for the pleasure they have afforded me; - for their delightful addition to my store of pleasant & cherished memories. Thou hast done right in sending me the piece; and permit me to hope that from henceforth thou wilt have no hesitation in allowing thy friends to participate in thy intellectual enjoyments. I have never entirely forgiven thee for depriving Dr. Earle of the pleasure of reading the lines called forth by his gift. But I trust wilt duly profit by the sage admonitions of Elisabeth Nicholson & myself touching this matter, and give us no further occasion for "dealing" with thee. W e had a fine journey toWeare - the weather was cool, but clear, - the sun rising & setting in that soft October haze - which harmonises so well with the beauty of the frosted forests, softening & veiling over the gorgeous tints of the landscape. Weare is a rough, rude specimen of the Granite State, - mountain - rocks, woods, - green meadows, - farm-houses perched on the steep, rocky hill-sides, half hidden by chestnut & sugar maple - surrounded by lands upon which a Chester or Delaware county farmer would starve; but repaying with rich crops the untiring industry, & shrewd economy of a Yankee. There are two large Friends' meetings in the town. The Friends there were formerly very plain friends in more respects than one - uncouth, illiterate, & with as little reverence [35]

for "school-laming" as the Black Dutch of old Berks at the present time. They are now however, quite the reverse. They have an excellent High School there under the charge of Moses A. Cartland. The Buildings are beautifully situated near the large Meeting house, in a small green valley among the hills - just looking out of a thick forest stretching in the background for miles. It is really a beautiful place. Moses is a sort of Autocrat in the community in matters of Taste, Literature, politics, & Abolition. Pray does Benj Jones seriously intend to persevere in his design of getting up another anti-slavery Book? The fates order it otherwise! - There have been some half dozen imitations of our North Star already - a sort of wooden nutmeg one in Connecticut - one or two in Boston - and of late a scare crow one in Rhode Island. The thing is getting to be sadly overdone. Everybody rhymes for them - as if an abolitionist must be ex-officio a rhymer, as one of the Shaking Fraternity must be a dancer, - a sort of philanthropic Delia Cruscan style in which "slavery's night" jingles with "Truth & Right" - and "down-trodden slave" treads upon "Freedoms grave," and such unlucky wights as myself are doomed to see their own ideas dressed up in every variety of costume - like Falstaff's ragged regiment at Coventry, till one is "ashamed to march with them." One hates to be haunted with caricatures, parodies, imitations - to see one's own ideas hunted down by one of these merciless Djezza Pachas in literature, maltreating & disguising them [36]

to suit his purposes, & then sending them into the world limping, eyeless, tongueless, - yet like poor Lavinia in Titus Andronicus bearing a ghastly similitude to their original form & comeliness. One feels as we may suppose Moses & Aaron did when those rascally magicians took up their business of serpentmaking, & turned off counterfeit snakes, with impudent facility; or as did the negro king, described by Ibn Batuta - the Musselman Lamartine - when the monkies in the woods about his mud-palace, set up a king of their own - provided him with council, guards & harem - in the midst of which he sat like a Turk with a turban of green leaves on his head counterfeiting royalty to the life! No - it wont do to have another book - the very idea of it makes me nervous; or if we must have one - let its getters up eschew poetry, and, heeding the gruiF advice of Danton when he rebuked the rhapsodies of his colleagues: "have prose & decency for the future." But, enough of this - Does thee see the Freeman now; - 1 am sorry Charles is so given over to Non Resistance & the Woman question - I sent him a long communication touching the subject of the Convention in London but he [is] declining publishing it. Abby Kelley is now "going to and fro" in Massachusetts, "testifying." Ah, primest & meekest of the youthful sisterhood! - Demurest of Quakeresses thy mild blue eyes scarce lifted under thy close plain bonnet, while wandering musingly by the rocks of Nahant, or making thy semi-daily visits to thy school [37]

room at Lynn, - who could have guessed at thy present destiny? - Now - wandering abroad - the genius of Unrest - a portent in petticoats skirting the horizon of the land of Study Habit - terrifying Doctors of Divinity in their studies & causing them to wish that every Quaker had been in the same noose with Mary Dyer - stormfuUy asserting her rights & mights in Anti-Slavery meetings - now cheered by the faithful, and anon, mobbed by the sons of Belial; - sincere, but mistaken heroine, - whither is she tending? In truth, I cannot but admire her moral courage - while I greatly question the expediency of her course. She & some dozen others have called a meeting to be held at Boston, for the purpose of deciding whether the First Day of the week should be kept - whether the ministry, & Church organizations should not be abolished! - Elisabeth has sent Ε. N. a copy of a paper containing this call - pray see it. It's a curiosity. Elisabeth has less patience with these matters than I have. I am for tolerating even error. But the more I see of these strivings & agitations, the more steadily do my affections turn to the quiet beauty, & order of our Society - regretting only that I am not able to be a truly consistent member of it. I had a delightful letter, yesterday from Cousin Ann - full of that cheerful resignation, to the allotments of Providence; that Faith, which surrenders all things into the hands of a Merciful Saviour, and herself tremblingly, yet confidingly on the arm of His Love. How have her seeming afflictions been blessed to her! - And, Elisa[38]

beth, is the beautiful & touching lesson of her life to be lost upon her friends? - Shall we be content to admire without any effort to imitate? I think sometimes when reflecting upon the influences for good which she is exerting, that my own have been of a directly opposite character - that few of my friends can say that they have derived any spiritual strength, or received any incentive to strive after holiness from m y example. Yet, it is not too late to say to those friends that my sincere desire in regard to them is that they may have received no injury from that example. I am more & more confirmed in my first opinion relative to "The Poem." It is thy task; - and what is more, thou wilt perform it. D o not undertake to evade thy destiny. Ann's letter contained a beautiful extract f r o m some of EN's writings - Could ye not watch with me one hour? The last verse: "Then weary one & desolate! - who bearest all alone Thy heavy burthen silently, still calmly journey on If sunshine to thy earthly way in fitful gleams be given Remember that the less of Earth, perchance the more of Heaven: Is it not excellent? W i t h a kind remembrance of thy sisters, I am very sincerely thy friend John G. Whittier. P. S. Elisabeth is scolding me for not giving her half of m y sheet, and I dare say thee will also. [39]

I think there are some beautiful passages in some of Eliza Cook's late writings. Has thee seen "The Artisan's Song" from her pen? Ε Nicholson ought to be ashamed to ridicule us Yankees so about our monument. Let her read the piece on the same subject by Lucy Hooper and repent of her evil deeds. Cousin Ann has sent Elisabeth a copy of some lines of thine - and also of W m . J. Allinson's piece on the Flushing Oaks - I want much to see those of EN's about Germantown Q. M., World's Convention &c. Mischievous, I suspect - yet I can admire genuine wit & humor even at my own expense. Do be kind enough to send them. Some things have lately appeared in the "Friend" which I dont like: and which are calculated in my opinion to do harm. Robert Smith is a kind, clever old gendeman and means well, but he is sadly trammelled & circumscribed, & fearful of giving offence. Perhaps it is better to err in this respect than through rashness; but I do not like to see human nature entirely smothered to death. - I cannot admire a cold & passionless virtue. - Pygmalion's statue may have been fauldess in its cold & stoney rigidity; but I should have preferred to see it, — "waking into life The mortal & the marble still at strife." Will thee send me W . J . A.'s farewell to J J Gurney? Take a big sheet & write it, together with E. N's. [40]

Dear Ε. The letter was written, folded, & the seal was falling, when Greenleaf said, Will thou say a word to Ε L? Oh! Yes gladly, I said, when behold! I have only room to cross question thee. A kind letter from Cousin Ann says I am a naughty girl. I plead guilty, at the same time, offer a plea of justification. Never for one moment has my heart beat disloyalty in love to your magic circle of last winter. For some time I was sick - forbidden by weakness in my shoulder to write or sit - & now my Mother is feeble & m y household duties, they are so many. Cousin Ann can understand the multitudinous cares of a New England housekeeper & houseworker. Thy letter to Greenleaf was glorious - clearer & clearer, before me comes the view that "thou art the woman" to execute this exquisite device. - Elisabeth do not withstand destiny - Believe me, there can be n o cloud on the true tabernacle in the way of thy

going forth - 'tis only a mist of the enemy's gathering to limit thy responsibility. I cannot tell thee how all beautiful such a work seems to me - "tis visioned a delight." The subject has been opened to thee in all its "breadth & depth." Thou hast seen in the clearness the whole way - and Elisabeth, thine are the hands to pluck from under the dead, unsightly leaves of formality, the bright, beautiful flowers of our own true faith. Evening after evening I come to your circles dont you see me sometimes ι I sit down with the dear ones in Sixth Street - the pleasant memory of last winter is to me like -

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Strains of some remembered song Like perfume from a broken shell, Like gleams of sunshine, hidden long, Bright streaming through a dungeon cell! She who wrote thoughts on the Convention, which were as friends say so much in the true light, must not excuse herself from the high calling before her. Please give my love to thy sisters - & do not think of me as forgetting - Oh no! I am still one ofyou. Affectionately E. W . 7Elizabeth

Lloyd

to the Whittiers, with a poem by Elisabeth Nicholson

(December 6 and g, 1840) The verses, signed "Ε. N.," copied at the beginning of this long letter, were written by Elisabeth Nicholson, and have been mentioned in preceding letters. The letter is obviously misdated " n t h mo.," instead of "12th mo."; proof is obtained through the reference to the funeral of Abigail Barker, of Burlington, who died November 30, 1840. Furthermore, December 6 is, in fact, Sunday (First Day) in the year 1840, while November 6 is not. In the latter part of the letter, "Isaac W. Sr." is easily identified as Isaac Wendell, father of Ann and Margaret; the "lawgiver" at Weare is Moses Austin Cardand, and the allusion harks back to Whittier's letter of November 2; near the end of the letter the words "I crossed his poetry" indicate that, in writing the last paragraphs of her long letter, Elizabeth crossed lines

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over her copy of Allinson's poem, which she had transcribed for Whittier's perusal. The next to the last paragraph of this letter mentions "Charles B's criticisms of thy letter." This refers to a reply which Charles C. Burleigh, at that time editor of the Pennsylvania Freeman had made, in the issue of that paper for December 3, 1840, to the long letter from Whittier, already mentioned, commenting favorably on the work of the London Anti-Slavery Convention of 1840; this letter of Whittier's, although dated "ninth month 24th, 1840," was not printed in the Freeman until the issue of November 19. A

LAMENT

Furl, furl, your proud standard! Let Liberty mourn! And in silence and sadness you banners be borne! For the foremost among ye - "the pride of your field" Crestfallen and weary, now rests on his shield. And that Harp which enlivened your dreariest day, He has cast, vilely cast, all unbroken away! It has rallied the feeble - and gathered the strong And its echoes have swept in wild beauty along! It has summoned the patriot of every land, For Truth, Right, and Freedom, unwavering to stand: Like the war blast of Tyrteus it rang on the air, But he who had summoned, he ventured not there. And they gathered from near - and they hastened from far Like the Magi they followed one glorious star; But the poet from all his high visions came down To a Quaker Convention at old Germantown! [43]

Alas for "the Cause" - and alas, for romance And those "Women" [whose] "Rights" should have shivered his lance! But Chivalry's over - and every one knows, That the Bard of our day is a plain piece of prose. Then comes THE REJOICING

Fling out your furled standard! and shout and rejoice, For the "Champion of Freedom" is lifting his voice! The Lion has roused him once more from his lair Girded on with new strength from his free northern air. See ye not his proud standard? it glitters afar! Not with challenge for contest - nor watchword for WarNo! inscribed on that banner in letters of gold, Is the kindlier language "Come back to the fold!" Come back! casting off all the thraldom of hate, To humanity's cause every gift consecrate And anew, on the altar of Freedom now bind, Your beautiful offerings, of heart, soul, and mind. Then "weary" perhaps, but oh "crestfallen" never, The Lyrics of Freedom they flourish forever! And Liberty's harp strings, they gather no rust, Till the hand that awaked them is cold in the dust! Ε. N. [Immediately following, and occupying the second page of this letter, is a poem by William J. Allinson, "To J . J . Gurney, on his departure from America."] [44]

Philad'a, First day - n t h mo 6th. T h y very interesting letter should have been answered earlier, Greenleaf - and thy curiosity sooner gratified - but that I thought you would need a little breathing space after the contents of Ann's packet, before we sent out another relay of poetry. And this supply will be the last to come - (I mention this, "an' thou art a nervous man" Greenleaf). For myself, I have taken to knitting, and "The House of Industry" this winter, and do not expect to write any thing in future, but "prose and decency." - And Ε Ν . means to supply us all with stocking yarn I suspect, for she has moved her grandmother's spinning wheel down from Burlington, and talks largely of cuts and homespun. As for W . J . A . I cannot speak so clearly of his prospects; but it is currently reported, that some one has had the temerity to whisper in his ear the obsolete notion, that bairns cannot live by poetry alone, and that this diseased world of ours, stands more in need of pills and powders, than of the former commodity kindlier healer though it be. Speaking of William J . reminds me of a work he lately sent me, "Sartor Resartus"! Didst thou ever meet with it in thy goings over this world of books? Thou should have seen it it is so fresh and original; no old story dressed up in new paper and type - no caricatured imitation of other men's ideas - but filled with "new notions." The pearl of its meaning lies in deep water - an ocean of quaint philosophy and opaque metaphysics - concealed on purpose I fancy, that only the divers may [45]

come at it; and lest the author, for his ingenious mode of talking at, the superficialities of the time, should be arraigned for high treason by the powers of (pride and prejudice) that be. One idea, I like much, "that once in two centuries there rises a man capable of writing a book" - and it contained a sketch of George Fox which it would do you good to read. What a disposition there seems to be of late to hunt out Quakerism from its old fastnesses and hiding places to discover what manner of faith it is. I am struck with it; and an interest in our principles, will I am persuaded, be more and more felt and manifested, as Reform looks back for precedents. 4th day - Amen to thy lamentations over the "Freeman." But not because of its nonresistant ultraism, nor of its "women's rights" politics. If Charles B.'s faith thither tends, why, let him avow it. It will do more good than harm, to be open, for people can then see what it will lead to. But it does trouble me, that he should carry the Quaker flag, when he is not only, "not of us," but is our enemy - and omits no opportunity of pouring a broadside of censure and suspicion into every unguarded loop hole. It is a positive infringement of the law of nations to hoist false colours - and honesty and honour both demand that each individual should wear his own. I do wish Greenleaf, if thee has bequeathed him the privilege of heading the paper 12th month &c &c - thee would add a codicil to thy will and disinherit him as unworthy of the honour. Besides this, not a week passes, [46]

but we have all manner of Hicksite doings and heterodox sayings attributed to us. "Charity," as Sancho sayeth, "is good and comfortable, very"; but the exercise of this Christian virtue towards those who are not of our sect and hold not our creed is one thing and a disposition to mix up good and evil, and confound right and wrong, and cover over differences in sentiment and important distinctions in matters of faith, is quite another thing; and the practice of the latter very much impedes the exercise of the former. Friends have perhaps deserved to be arraigned for coldness and apathy on the subject of Slavery; but I cannot see that our deficiencies give Charles Burleigh any right to assume the office of censor. Even if it be true, that the spirit of sectarianism lays "like a cold hand upon the heart" of our society, stilling the pulse of philanthropic feeling - and chilling the up-bubblings [sic] fountains of sympathy with human suffering, he is not the man to remove it. For my own part, I believe the pulse of love for all mankind, though faint and slow - and almost imperceptible, still beats amongst us - and the fountains of benevolence are murmuring in many places where they are neither seen nor heard. W e are as a body, like individuals I have known, cold and austere in outward seeming and yet whose heart was the home of every warm and generous impulse. An instance occurs to me among many which I have known, to strengthen this opinion. Talking some time since with a "Friend" [47]

on the subject of benevolent associations &c &c &c she soon merged toward Abolitionism, and condemned the system in no measured terms. - I tried to mollify, rather than to convince, and we parted amicably. On the next evening I was to take tea with her socially. When I arrived, I found her engaged, and she very pleasantly told me I might either be company, and stay alone in the parlour awhile, or sit with her in the kitchen. I preferred the latter - and found that she had a sick servant, whom she was relieving of all duty - by "putting her own hands to the work," and then, with her own hands bathed the throbbing temples of the sufferer (the girl was a black) and as tenderly as though she had been her own child, performed all the offices of nurse and comforter. Here was a triumph of feeling over prejudice. The heart of that woman was in the right place, and it matters not by what name she was called - bitterly opposed as she was to the terms Abolition, and Antislavery, she was unconsciously carrying out in her practice your foundation principle: to do to others as she would that they should do unto her. It was to be sure, but an act of justice and humanity - she was only performing a household duty - but it was one which too many, would have been content to order done. By habit and education we have many temptations to stifle the promptings of our human and better feelings - and to excuse ourselves from the self denial involved by obeying them. Sis and myself spent some days in the country this [48]

autumn amongst our relatives and there was much of the same spirit to be met with there. - Opposed to "abolitionism" - yet the very individuals who deprecated it, would walk miles to relieve the poor and suffering and afflicted of their neighbourhoods would take in the hungry wayfarer and feed him at their own tables - clothe the naked and fugitive slave and bid him "God speed" on his journey to the North; - only they would not do it in the name of Abolitionism. "Friends" are better than they seem; I do believe, and Greenleaf - I have always regretted that thee did not put thyself more in the way, while among us, of witnessing their individual and untrumpeted straightstepping. I am persuaded, thee would have found brothers and sisters, where thee looked for strangers, and sympathising friends, where thee expected but coldness, and reserve, and suspicion. I suppose you have not heard how very ill Ann E. W . has been. I sat with her half an hour today for the first time in a week. She has had a severe attack of Bronchitis - brought on by cold taken on a damp day when she went out to meeting. The Dr. considered her situation very alarming for a few days but am glad that neither herself nor the family were aware of it until the danger was over. She looks paler and thinner - but wears the same sweet placid look, natural to her, and I cannot perceive that her sickness has made any further change, than to bring her one step nearer Heaven - I feel it more and more a privilege to have such a friend. She was well enough [49]

yesterday to have the family collected in her room to receive a visit f r o m Lydia Dean - w h o has been set at liberty by Ν York mo. meeting to visit the families of our District - Isaac W . Sr was present - and after they came away - father remarked - "There was something very good to be felt amongst t h e m " - He seemed particularly interested in Isaac - and the friend had something very encouraging and comfortable to say to him - Mysterious are the ways of Providence, and truly, "past mans finding o u t " ! That they should be so afflicted, w h o seem to deserve it so little. W h e n Ann was taken ill - Margaret was sick, scarcely able to be up at all - and Friend W . more than usually weak and delicate. I should not have told you all these gloomy things - of the dark cloud, had there not been "bright foam [?]" near it! - They are all doing nicely n o w - and Ann desired her love affectionately to you W h e n I went in yesterday she had a letter in her hand f r o m thee Lizzie - and a note f r o m Greenleaf - and was treasuring them up until she was able to enjoy reading them. D o write to her often dear Ε (G is good about it) and I will forgive thee for putting me off with postscripts - The last was so sweet and affectionate though. - I must thank thee for it. Ann is so cut off f r o m many of our enjoyments - that she deserves to be particularly remembered in this way. Greenleaf speaks of Eliza Cook's poetry in his last letter - I have seen just enough of it to make me wish for more. I have one piece of hers entitled " T h e W o r l d " - which I account among m y chiefest treas[50]

ures in this line, containing two verses, for which she deserves "the freedom of Parnassus." "We murmur and droop should a sorrow cloud stray, And note all the shades of our lot; While the rich scintillations that brighten our way, Are basked in, enjoyed, and forgot!

The wail of regret - the rude clashing of strife The soul's harmony often may mar: But I think we must own, in the discords of life 'Tis ourselves that oft waken the jar." She has much of Hannah F. Gould's healthful spirit, with perhaps more poetical culture and refinement. Guess who is expected to spend the winter in Philada> H. F. Gould, her very self! Ε Ν and I intend calling upon her, to acknowledge our debt of gratitude for the enjoyment her writings have conferred upon us. D o you not think it will be a piece of great assurance in a couple of little Quaker girls? She is coming here to open a school I understand - and we have a mind to be her scholars. Sis and I expect to call on the bride this week - Eliza Earle Hacker. She is quietly settled for life within half a square of us - and we must do her the courtesies of our neighbourhood. Ε Ν has been to see her, and says she introduced her daughter without the least embarrassment, and seems to fill her new station with ease & dignity. Greenleaf's description of "Weare" and its lawgiver interested me. I only knew your cousin through the medium of his labours Editorial, which were cer[5i]

tainly very efficient, and an occasional piece o f poetry. He spent only one evening with us, and I always feel as if his recollections o f us must be very chilly ones; w e had other company, and did not seem to "get along." I suspect he is like a certain Minstrel I could name, very reserved. W i t h me, Time must remove this barrier to free intercourse. I do not understand the art o f getting through it to the citadel within - can neither take the mind's stronghold b y open force nor manouvering; and I am sure I cannot tell h o w I ever overleaped this coat o f mail in Greenleaf - for if there was a man on earth I dreaded last winter - it was John G. Whittier. A n d even now, I dont think I could talk to him face to face, as I do on paper. I am however sincerely your friend E. Lloyd Jr There is one thing I had almost forgotten to mention - D r Earle delivers a lecture before our Lyceum on 7th day next - on sectional & national peculiarities. P.S. I hope m y letters do not arrive on your busy days, not that they are long, at all, but it might be sometimes inconvenient to read them through. Lib - 1 asked Hannah today what she meant to do for the Fair - " O h " said she, if Lib W . was only here this afternoon - to help me - I am just in the mood o f getting up something to match " M o l l Pitcher" - Thee lives in all our reminiscences o f last winter. Sisters send their love - and w e will all keep thy place vacant until thee comes back. During the past week w e have been to Burlington on

[52]

a melancholy errand! To attend the funeral of our dear friend Abagail Barker. Thee knew her, Greenleaf, didst thou note The loss of such a woman will be felt in many places: in her own home - in the social circle, wherever she was known; and in our Yearly meeting, we have not her equal left. There may be those of as deep religious experience - others, possessed of her mental strength - and some perhaps of her enlarged capacities for usefulness; but not one, in whom these qualifications for the "Church service" are all blended. When the thread of deliberation became knotted and confused, Abagail Barker, in a clear, calm, methodical manner, peculiar to herself, would disentangle and unwind it. If the atmosphere became heated by discussion - the fountains of Abagail Barker's eloquence would play, how coolingly, those only can tell, who were refreshed by it. When she made a motion to rise, attention was roused at once - and by the time she was prepared to speak, it was fixed, in earnest and unbroken silence. There was a moral grandeur, in the sway which that spirit held over an immense assembly - by its own weight and dignity - no one disputed her influence - for it was never asserted - it was instilled. Sister Ann was with her during her last illness - and witnessed her close. It was quiet, peaceful, and painless, at the last, though her sufferings had been very great. Greenleaf - 1 hope thee does not mean to be put to death by Charles B's criticisms of thy letter - Pity he did not withold some things he said, they can do thee [53]

no injury but may affect h i m s e l f - Pray do not indulge him with a reply - I must tell thee Greenleaf h o w much I am improving since I concluded to take thy advice - and be unselfish in m y intellectual enjoyments - I show thy letters to A n n and E. and thee does not k n o w h o w much w e enjoy them together. Pray do not inform W . J. A . that I crossed his poetry - and if y o u cannot understand it all, do not tell him so, for he will declare, by all m y very old besetments, and washed out sins, that I have altered it. I take this opportunity o f assuring thee I have been a faithful copyist; having been miraculously delivered from all m y devising temptations since " T h e Beginning." Dont hand me over to his wrath for there is nothing I so much dread as an eruption o f Genius. E. The best part o f this letter is to come in from E N . She wanted half a page o f this thought she might have a long story to gave her the envelope to write upon. W a s o f me>

a postscript sheet, but I tell, and so it not good

8. Elizabeth Lloyd to Whittier (Before December 25, 1840) This is a postscript, in the hand of Elizabeth Lloyd, appended to a letter from Elisabeth Nicholson to Whittier; the letter is undated, but postmarked, Newburyport, [54]

Dec. 25. The new book mentioned was a copy-book (still preserved in the Quaker collection at Haverford College) into which Elisabeth Nicholson had painstakingly copied all of Whittier's poems and much of his prose that had come to her attention. It will be remembered, in this connection, that the only collections of his writings that had appeared at this date were the "Legends of New England," 1831, and the two thin volumes of poems, published, the first in 1837, in Boston, and the other, in 1838, in Philadelphia. For the first volume of Elisabeth Nicholson's copy-book Elizabeth Lloyd had prepared a tide-page, dated 1839, which contained a beautifully executed vignette, illustrating the poem "New England." That Whittier's response to the request made by Elizabeth Lloyd, in this postscript of December, 1840, was the poem, "The Funeral Tree of the Sokokis," is shown by the fact that the second volume of the copy-book has a title-page, dated 1841, containing a vignette, illustrating this poem, its title being lettered beneath the picture. "The Funeral Tree of the Sokokis" was first printed in The Knickerbocker for March, 1841. This date and the date, 1841, of the copy-book's title-page, serve to corroborate the inference that the date of the letter to which Elizabeth Lloyd appended her postscript must be December, 1840. Elisabeth Nicholson's copybooks are described by Edward D. Snyder, with facsimiles of the tide-pages, in The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography for April, 1938. Thanks to Lizzie Ν for leaving me a little space to say a word I did not wish her to know of - touching the poetry for her new book - She expects to have it bound precisely like the other, with vol II. on the back, [55]

and I have an embossed sheet of Bristol Board like the first, for the Frontispiece - now Greenleaf- could thee not write something from which I could devise a picture, different from the first - yet of the same character? - Is there not some cherished spot of Ν England scenery yet unsung - which could be painted and poetized - something grand - bold - and characteristic - If thee feels like it, do oblige me by writing what would serve for the first piece in the volume and from which I could paint a frontispiece. I [will] do my best not to discredit the poetry and I would like to have it first [and give] Lib the delightful surprise of an appro [priate] picture - when she does not expect it I would not keep the poetry back a moment longer than needful - and as soon as the frontispiece was done I would tell her of my treachery - used only to do herself a kindness. Excuse me for spoiling her neat sheet. EL 9Elizabeth Lloyd to Whittier (January 28, 1841) Elizabeth's suggestion that Whittier collect his "Indian and traditionary poetry" may have been the starting point of a plan which germinated in his mind and is revealed in a letter to Fields, the publisher, dated "24th ist mo. 1842," in which he writes, "a wish to preserve a fewfloatingpieces of mine, & to favor some personal friends, induces me to think of publishing a small collection under the title of 'Legends of the Merrimack' . . . " The final result was the [56]

small volume Lays of My Home, and Other Poems, which appeared in 1843. The letter from which the above passage has been extracted is printed on page 48 of A Bibliography of John Greenleaf Whittier, by T. F. Currier, 1937. The reference to "the New Monthly, to be" is to a literary magazine that Moses A. Cartland and others were planning to start, but were not successful in bringing to accomplishment. This is referred to in a letter from Whittier to Elisabeth Nicholson, printed by Edward D. Snyder on page 152 of The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography for April, 1938. Philad-a ist mo. 28th, 1841. Many and grateful thanks, Greenleaf, for thy kind and prompt compliance with my request. Thee has sent me just what I wanted. The Poetry is beautiful. I like it, verse by verse, and as a whole. Thy description is so graphic, that I can paint from it as well as from a picture; and though I have been prevented by sickness from touching it as yet, I promise myself great pleasure in making a sketch soon. E N knows nothing of it, and I do not intend to tell her until the drawing is finished. I wish thee could enjoy her surprise and delight with me. What a good thing it would be, Greenleaf, if all thy Indian and traditionary poetry could be got together and published in a volume. It would be as eagerly sought after by the lovers of Poetry, as was ever "Druid mark" or "Runic sign" by the Antiquary. D o let us have them all bound together not merely as "Wayside Passages." [57]

Thy request for something of mine for the New Monthly, to be, found me, with not "one pennyworth of poetry." On New Year's day, I made a burnt offering of all my scribblings on hand to the offended deity of common sense for I have been in continual dread, since EN has taken my thoughts into keeping, lest something might come to light, for which I should have to wear a life long blush. I tell thee this, to explain why thee did not hear from me sooner. To convince thee however, that I love to oblige my friends, when ever I can do so, I copy on the remainder of the sheet something written since I recovered. I fear it will not come in time for thy purpose, but if not too late, I would like thee to go over it with a brother's pruning knife, reserving to myself a sister's privilege of scolding thee afterward if it is not clipped to my liking. The feelings expressed are not ideal. They came over me while looking upon the most interesting spot on earth. Greenleaf, thee must consider this, the "Herbarium," only altered "in hoof, and horns, and features," the original being consecrated to oblivion. Editorial. . The press of poetry is so great this week as to preclude the insertion of any other matter. There are several passages in thy last letter I wished to answer, but must keep thy sayings until another opportunity. One thing, however, must not be postponed. The Gurney Allinson poetry, sent sometime since, was, alas! miscopied; but by no fault of mine, for the original manuscript had been mislaid. Here it is. Pray go over thy copy, and rectify all errors. W . J. A. has too many [58]

good qualities, not to be indulged in his little irritabilities on certain points. (Original) THOUGHTS ON JERUSALEM SUGGESTED BY A PANORAMA PAINTING THEREOF EXHIBITING IN PHILADELPHIA

[Elizabeth Lloyd's poem, beginning with the words, "Gather around this picture," fills some three quarto pages of this letter, two columns to a page. It was printed in the Pennsylvania Inquirer for March 20, 1841.] Greenleaf - I have been writing in great weakness. I fear almost illegibly. If it be published, pray, look it over first, critically, punctuation is incorrect - and there are several passages I wished to notice - but do with it what seemeth good in thy eyes. Thy friend E . L l o y d Jr. M y love to thee, Lizzie.

10.

Elizabeth Lloyd to Whittier (March 21, 1841) The date of this letter is established, and that of the previous letter corroborated by Elizabeth's "surprise and astonishment" to discover that her poem, "Jerusalem," had been printed "yesterday," in the Inquirer. The poem appears, printed anonymously, "For the Inquirer," in the [59]

issue of the Pennsylvania Inquirer and Daily Courier, for Saturday, March 20, 1841. Philad-a. 3d m o 21st I wrote a letter to thee yesterday, Greenleaf, out o f the fulness o f a vexed spirit - and in the very worst o f ill humours. B u t I am in a better m o o d today - and w i l l give thee instead, " a plain unvarnished tale." " T h o u rememberest" - that once on a time, I had some Thoughts on Jerusalem - that I transmitted them to thee, w i t h full power to dispose o f them as thou should see fit. W h e n I wrote to thee, I was just recovering f r o m sickness; was extremely weak, and after c o p y ing m y lines, had not sufficient energy to g o over them. O n looking at the original manuscript, I found many mistakes. Terebinth was misspelled and there were besides, several grammatical errors, w h i c h I trusted to thee to correct; and to make any other needful alterations. I received thy note in reply - was delighted to find m y thoughts had been to thee, w h a t thine have often been to me in sickness "a kindlier healer Than music, or a feast, or medicine." Half affronted b y thy treating m y serious request as unmeaning words only - and highly pleased as it regarded myself - that your paper had gone d o w n before it went up - for I should have been mortified, had m y lines been printed just as they were - W e l l - I wish thee was here one moment n o w to answer m y [60]

question - Did thee consider thy right to that piece given back to me by the failure of your plan; I did not; and refused all solicitations to have it published here, on the plea of having given it away. T o tell the truth, I was glad of the excuse - for I never wish to see any thing of mine in print. Imagine then my surprise and astonishment to find it published yesterday - as written "For the Inquirer" - I was thoroughly vexed, I could not help feeling so. Apart from its being printed full of mistakes, and in the "Inquirer," when we take three other papers - by stealth, without my knowledge or consent - and as " f o r " that journal, when I had told several persons it could not be printed here at all, by which m y sincerity would be brought in question apart from all this, the added drop in the cup of discomfort has been a fear lest thee might think I had acted dishonourably. I hope thee will write very soon if tis only a line, to let me know what thee thinks about it; for surely, I am blameless in the matter. Tax thy memory now - Greenleaf upon a pleasanter subject; and recal the first Whittier book E N got up, bound in pasteboard, covered over with fawn colored paper, and inlaid with her beautiful crewel work a bunch of flowers on one side, and a castle in ruins on the other - The work, Lizzie W will recollect, went to the fair, when she was here - in those boxes; and the forlorn old cover, despoiled of its beauty both inside and out, was cast aside as useless - but now in this time of "broken banks" and empty money bags, w e have to turn our old cast aways to good account - E . [61]

hunted out the despised relic the other day - and pasted it up for the outside of her record of family expenses and she says these lines occurred to her, while she was in the very act of desecration. If you enjoy wit grace and music, "downright common sense" with sense uncommon - read A PARODY ON ALNWICK CASTLE

Home ofJohn Whittier's high born thoughts, Home of his beautiful & brave! Alike their birth and burial-place Their cradle and their grave! No longer through this castle-gate, His Abolition stalks in state, As in his proud departed hours! His picture frowns no more on high, Nor unfurled banner flouts the sky. From groups of blushing flowers. Gaze on this cover's ruin'd face! Does not a slight memorial, keeping Its watch about it, seem to trace Tears, which it had been weeping? One solitary vestige grey Still tells in melancholy glory The legend of the Whittier day The poet's proudest border story. Like Halleck, wandering thro the halls, Trod by the Percy's of old fame, And tracing on the chapel walls Each high heroic name; [62]

So may the curious linger herel And shed an unavailing tear, Over the all too early bier Of John G. Whittier's fame! The self same hand is moving there The characters are just as fair Nay — traced with more than wonted care; She knows her father's eye,* Will follow where her writing ran. The quick glance of a business man Will every trifling item scan, And every fault descry! That last half stanza - it has dashed From my warm hp the sparkling cup The light that oer m y eye beam flashed The power that bore my spirit up Above this bank note world, is o'er! And where the Poet stood before In dignity and ease and grace, N o w stands the merest common place. The price of Richard's last new hat!!! M y father's handkerchief - cravat And Lizzie Lloyd stands tamely by, And never casts one withering look Upon " o u r " desecrated book! H o w can her relic fancy brook The price of Martha's finery? The age of "Broken Banks" is come W e may not march to beat of drum, Or rather Poet's fables; * In allusion to her settlements with him of the funds expended.

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Our war cry is, repent - repent Look, look, to dollar and to cent! And, women, learn your Tables! Your "Rights"? I guess you've found them out; They are to stir, and look about, And turn to sober prose; And leave all fine-spun theory, And high-born thoughts of Poetry That every body knows! Is it not delightful? I k n o w you will enjoy it. I wish you to understand that I have a testimony to bear against smuggling goods into N e w England - against all contraband trade in poetry - and though E N does not k n o w of m y sending this, I took care to ascertain before doing so, that she had no objection to your seeing it. And while I think of it, Greenleaf - she wished me to say if I wrote again, that she did not expect her postscript to be considered in the light of an answerable epistle - but that she was obliged for thy letter and poetry. I am glad to find thee is getting ready for " T h e Poem." But do not think to make me believe thee is reading Friends Journals, and good books all the time. I k n o w better. T h o u hast been keeping company with that "strolling player" Will Shakspeare. Well, I thought if thee did, I might; and - thank thee for introducing me into the presence of Majesty. O f a truth, he is "the Master Spirit." The Alps of human intellect have been scaled - its Chimborazo summits have been estimated - but Shakspeare's is a Pyramid of Mind. [64]

Poets have entered its secret chambers - Philosophers have tracked its labyrinths - Scholars have read its inscriptions - but the mysterious pile still remains covered over with hyeroglyphical characters for future generations to interpret. Greenleaf - I wish when thee writes again thee would give me thy opinion about books; those, I mean which Friends especially, forbid. I have often been made to feel gratefully sensible that it was good for me that I had been restrained in these matters. M y father is called a very strict orthodox Quaker - stern and unyielding in his opinions. I k n o w not h o w far (in the world) he may deserve this character, but in his own family, the firm hand has ever been a gentle one, and his manner of laying it upon me has prevented me f r o m going into many wrong things, when I could see neither the reason nor the propriety of his requisitions. It has been so with books. A m o n g the great names in Literature which are familiar to us all, some have been so strictly forbidden to us that w e never dared touch them. Shakspeare was among the proscribed - and until quite recently I have felt no desire to become acquainted with him. This winter I have heard more of Shakspeare than ever I did before I have heard pure moralists, w h o would guard the young f r o m every thing which would vitiate the taste, recommend his writings to keep it sound and healthy. I have known pious men, clergymen - w h o make his works part of their household reading. Men w h o reprobate Byron and the writers of his school, praise Shakspeare. All this has had its effect upon m y [65]

mind, and I feel no hesitation now in seeking to judge for myself. I see certainly, faults - proofs of the great poet's defective education, and much of the grossness of his time; but with all reverence I say it - 1 never read any human production, whose objectionable passages were so much like those we find in the Bible. Vice is pourtrayed - but in its own hideous nakedness. He does not veil it. He shows us human deformity - and human loveliness; there is honesty and Truth in all his portraits. And Greenleaf, the more I look into myself and watch the workings of other spirits, the more I am convinced of what we have always been told - that the unregenerate heart is in all men, vile and deceitful and desperately wicked. The earlier we know it the better; and it is a false and superficial view of our nature which would prevent us from looking into pictures of its depravity, and tracing the consequences of its guilt. In some - the heart's waters may seem pure, but it is because they are never troubled. The moment we send down the plummet of self examination, the stream becomes thickened by the mud and slime at the bottom, and I cannot help thinking that he who reminds us of this truth, is a benefactor to his race. He thus helps to establish the brotherhood of the human family, and inculcates a more faithful reliance upon Him by whose mercy alone we are not of those who violate the laws of the moral community. Poor Robert Burns never said a more enduring truth - than that "the absence of temptation made the virtue, and good name of many a man no better than himself." [66]

Greenleaf - E N tells me I have a most inveterate habit o f "spinning out." Have I? A l l this looks like it but the truth is, I enjoy writing to thee - thee seems to understand me so well, and be sure to answer me about reading; m y long speech is not meant to foreclose the subject I have been reading t w o books lately y o u would like - " T h e Y o u n g Lady's H o m e " by Mrs. Tuthill, full o f Greenleaf's poetry - and " T h e Man & the H o u r " by H. Martineau - If you have the last - note particularly a conversation* on Progressive Christianity - The ideas are new, and most interesting. Since w e had it, I have been reading "Touissant [s/c] L ' O u verture" over and over & over again - The black chief is the hero o f the book - and - Greenleaf - will it not put thee in the spirit o f writing part second - to that Poem. It would be a noble undertaking to trace him as the bloodless redeemer o f his country from slavery through all his exertions in Peace - his prompt activity in W a r - his noble trustful nature - and to trace him at length to his cold Alpine dungeon - which might well be a "pilgrim shrine" I have no cheering news f r o m Friend Wendell's. Sickness seems to be their portion. Isaac Wendell Sr. has been ill - is just recovering - and A n n - dear A n n - is again laying l o w with the Bilious fever - The report today is favourable - but she is extremely weak and will be long I fear in recovering her little strength Our Bank break is really a present calamity - many * In the 2nd volume.

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of our friends are greatly losers. Lindzey N. has suffered slightly - and Josiah White very much - in addition to his losses as a stockholder in the Lehigh Coal Company - but he is immensely wealthy - and will feel it less than most. But I am more to be pitied than any of them. I have lost my whole estate - a 5 dollar note - It seems to me - that like the French Revolution - this event - "is the result of disturbing the elements of evil." Your friends in Twelfth St. and my sisters send their kind remembrances - all but myself. Tell Ε please - that I have forgotten her entirely - Thy friend E. Lloyd Jr. Do not forget that the most important part of my letter comes first - Thee see I have not taken the hint thee sent me in thy wee letters Are you coming to Yearly Meeting? I do not see what is to hinder you 11. Elizabeth Lloyd to Elizabeth Whittier (April 30, 1841) References in this letter to the death of Abigail Barker, to John Candler, and to Joseph Sturge all contribute to assigning this letter to the year 1841. Whittier was, at this time, in Pennsylvania, with Joseph Sturge, the English abolitionist, who was making a tour of this country for observation and to sustain the anti-slavery movement. John [68]

Candler had been travelling, with his wife, in the West Indies with the approval of the English Society of Friends, to inquire into the condition of the newly emancipated negros there; he extended his visit by a brief tour in the United States. Union St. 4th mo. 30th Forgotten thee, dear EW> that I have not! nor our meetings at Friend Wendell's - nor our readings of "Christobel" and "Moll Pitcher" - nor our talk about Burns - nor our visit to the picture - when we "Wished as we saw the old show-woman come, That we had been deaf, or the crone had been dumb - " nor any of the "pleasant bread" we ate together last winter. I forget some things, and some people, Lizzie, but thee, and thy visit to Philada stay with me. Thou wert a stranger, yet felt not strange - a sojourner, yet seeming to belong to us. The note thee sent by Greenleaf - 1 was very glad of it; and the picture, of black spirits and white, we have enjoyed and laughed over. M y thanks for both. I feel now, as though I knew how you looked and seemed at home, which I never did before. I often wondered last winter what manner of life you were leading, and wished I could see you once round your own fireside, but never could draw a picture. Now I have one. There is thy mother, a dignified placid looking old lady, half of thee, and half of Greenleaf, with her spectacles and knitting; then, the Bard himself[69]

sitting in deep thought, or with book in hand pretending to read, that he may indulge uninterruptedly some glorious dream of the period when man's only name for his fellow man shall be "my brother" - or starting up into action, as he remembered the individual toil, and faithfulness, and self-denying energy which must bring "the time, of Earth's deliverance near" - or groaning over his pile of unanswered letters, - or wishing, when mine came, that he had one friend in the world who did not keep "the disreputable company of the Muses"; and thee, Lizzie, a sort of little girl-the pet-allowed to cruise round, and work or play, be idle or busy, as thee listed - reading sometimes, sewing sometimes, (I hope thee uses the workbox I made thee) and sitting sometimes for hours together, thinking of Willis, and "Idleness," and all the good authorities for doing nothing - or perhaps of the absent, as I often do, before a bright coal fire - or perhaps communing with thyself pondering thy own capabilities and propensities, but never I hope like me, dear E, having to feel, as thee turns thy heart's leaves over, that they are stained and blotted, and defiled, and filled with idle, vain & useless passages, which thee would gladly erase. Our Annual Assembly is over; and never did I attend so uninteresting a Yearly Meeting. For me, there seemed to be neither dews, nor south winds, nor springs of water. I don't know but we have been spoiled in Philadelphia. We "have had Moses and the prophets" - and when the little ones are sent amongst us, we do not hear them. The silver trumpets have so [70]

long been sounded in our camp, that we are in danger of forgetting "The coarsest reed that trembles in the marsh, If Heaven select it for its instrument, Can shed celestial music on the breeze, As clearly, as the pipe whose virgin gold Befits the hp of Phebus." Thee did not know Abigail Barker dear E, and thee cannot understand how sadly we missed her. Her seat was left vacant for several days, and E N remarked after meeting, she never had felt so forcibly, that "the niche which she occupied could never be filled." Well - by every empty and unsatisfied feeling, such as I have had during the past week, we should be warned to put not our trust in an arm of flesh, but to look within for strength and refreshment. I know it and feel it continually. Apart from the spiritual affairs of the Church - this has been an interesting period, quite an era amongst friends here - I think some onward steps have been taken in the Anti Slavery cause, and though but trifling in themselves, may open the path for those who would gladly go forward. There was a most excellent and awakening Epistle from England on the subject which was directed to be printed, and circulated through all the inferior meetings; John Candler and his wife, who, thee may recollect, had a concern to visit the British emancipated W . I. Islands, and who left England eighteen months since with the approbation of the

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London Meeting for Sufferings, to pursue their object, and bring home correct reports of the state of things there, attended our Yearly Meeting; and the man friend succeeded in obtaining a room in the Arch Street house (Just think of the innermost courts of the temple being thus desecrated) where he gave a most interesting account of his experience and labours, to a crowded audience of the true faith. Mead Atwater - from Ν York - felt a concern to hold a religious meeting for the Blacks of our city which was approved and accomplished. Again, Joseph Sturge requested to have an audience of the Elders and others at Thomas Wister's, in order to lay before them his views on the subject of Slavery - his object in coming to this country - his plans and expectations; he also wished to hear a full statement of the opinions of Friends in this place, correct information of their position, and to ascertain how far they could cooperate with him in the objects of his visit. Does not all this seem like progress> The time has been, when "the elders at our gates" would not have welcomed an "Evangelical English Quaker" - when they would not have stirred from their own fire sides to hear what a British Abolitionist, a meddler in our concerns, might have to say for himself - nor have deigned to express, before such a suspicious character their views - and relations to this subject of universal interest. The meeting was satisfactory, on both sides I hear. However, if nothing more was accomplished than the bringing together of discordant sentiments, and opposite views, I should re[72]

joice; for it is the first time such a meeting has been sought, or accorded. It is undoubtedly, something gained, to have the subject discussed; and among Friends here - there are many men of too much good sense not to perceive their errors if error exists; and of too much magnanimity not to abandon them if their judgment is convinced. Joseph Sturge is the right man for us. He is candid - courageous - most decided in his opinions - yet wearing always so much kindness and good nature, that no one could possibly be offended by his expression of them. W e have had but one visit from him as yet - but I hope to be better acquainted with him. Lib - how little and insignificant I always feel in the company of such men; my pursuits seem so paltry and unworthy - compared with the noble objects of their existence. But it is good to mingle with such. They strengthen one's desires after good and usefulness - at least; and we learn from them what we may, perhaps, at some future time bring out in action for the benefit of our suffering kind - On first day evening we had the friends Candler's and their companions - Joseph Sturge and John G. Whittier - I have "marked the visit with a white stone" And there is no room left for our own little matters of news, gossip &c &c - only for love messages - from the Wendell's - the Nicholsons and the Lloyds - and the unabated affection of thy friend - Ε I thought - a letter now when thee is alone, would be more acceptable, than one by Greenleaf - Besides, I know he is so much occupied with J. Sturge that he [73]

would scarcely have time to write and tell thee all that is occurring - They left the city yesterday for Baltimore. Dear Ε let me add my wishes to Ann's that thee will come on to Ρ - never mind company - a quaker dress is protection all the world over I never see Η & R White, but they inquire affectionately after thee - and Lizzie we all wish very often thee was here again - there are so many things one cannot write about, and so much that is new & pretty we would like thee to see, of our doings. Do not leave writing so long again. Ε [The following postscripts are in the hand of Ann Wendell]: I wrote thee a few days since dear Lizzy to urge thee to find if possible an opportunity to leave home very soon and come here before yearly meeting. It would make thy visit much too short - but it would be better than none. I talked with Greenleaf about it & the only objection he raised was want of company. We all regret thou did not come with him & I think he does too. - if thou cannot come before Y M - we should be glad to see thee after, but it would not be so pleasant - people are so scattered in the summer. I shall perhaps visit Newport in the 7th mo and I cannot bear to think that we shall both tread the same soil within so short time and not meet, it must be not so if we can avoid it & I hope we shall see thee here. I will [74]

write soon again. I like a careless child have lost my bag & thy letter but E L has I doubt not told thee all it contained of interest respecting the antislavery movements of Greenleaf and J Sturge, they are at Baltimore now, w e have ordered thy bonnet and will have it ready on thy arrival. T h y affectionate cousin Ann. Is not E L kind to let me mar the beauty of her letter. She has gone to her brothers in 7 t h St while I do the mischief but I see her coming down Elisabeth St.

12. Elizabeth Lloyd to Elizabeth Whittier (June 7, 1841) An account of the excursion described in this letter is in the Pennsylvania Inquirer of June 17; it was a joint excursion of the Northern and Southern Lyceums of Philadelphia to Garsed's Mills, on the banks of the Wissahickon River. The theme of Dr. Condie's address was "Art as contrasted with Nature," and treated of the city dweller as contrasted with the rural man. Union St - 6th mo 7th I had a fancy my dear Lizzie, that thee should carry a bag like those we wear; so have gratified myself by working one for thee. It looks like me, does n't it? drab coloured and old maidish. H o w much we have all regretted that thee did not [75]

come on to Philadelphia with Greenleaf. It has rained, and rained and rained to be sure, during the whole Spring - but we have had sunshiny days not a few, when I should have delighted to take thee through our beautiful city, with its Linden trees all out in leaf and its horse chestnuts in blossom. "The most beautiful place in the world your city would be" said Joseph Sturge to E N , "if it were only Abolitionized." And then on the rainy days h o w we might have congregated round Ann at friend W ' s - or in Twelfth, or Union St to hold our conversaziones - and glorious house cleaning time! to think, thee has missed all that too - and Yearly meeting - and the good advice - and the dear h u m drum people w h o come up to shop and eat good things, and scandalize Joseph John Gurney and formal religion. But one enjoyment we have had which I do wish thee could have shared with us, and that was our Lyceum excursion of seventh day to the Wissahicon. I wonder if you have any thing in "Yankee land" so beautiful as the Wissahicon. I dont believe you have. Your rocks f r o w n more terribly than the rocks on its banks - Your trees are like some of your "tall spirits" higher and nobler and more majestic than ours, but I do not believe they bend so affectionately over your heads when you want shelter f r o m the sun. Your waters make more noise, but are they as clear and pure as our quiet streams? I mean to come and see one of these days. But dear Lizzie thee should have been with us. W h e n [76]

we arrived on the ground (I dont know how to describe scenery) we had an address from Dr. Condie not one of your flourishing, ridiculous, "glorification" speeches - but forcible, simple, chaste and poetical; next came the Essays, long and hard and dry and tough which I could not listen to, the birds were singing so sweetly - and a lovely, cherub-looking boy, lisping like thy little favourite Dick Ν was all the time begging me to give him "just a little dinner for the minnies - they looked so hungry." W e dined after the manner of pic nie parties on "cold victuals." After dinner, we had conversation, and Lib, it was of the first order. W e had Shakspeare talked over, and Milton, and Burns; and Wordsworth was dragged down from the pinnacle where he has been so unreasonably placed and Byron was discussed, and pitied, and blamed and praised - and some of his fine descriptive passages recited as I never heard them recited before - I took occasion to attract attention to thy brother's "Estimate of Byron" by repeating all that I remembered of it. This brought J.G.W. on the carpet, and Lib, it would have done thee good to find how entirely he was appreciated, by a class, of no mean pretension. In the afternoon, I let the Lyceum take care of itself, and strolled about. I scarcely know why, but I never felt happier, ungloved, unbonneted, enjoying the air, and the water, and every thing - Lib, did thee ever wish thee was a painter? I have often - and I did then. And did thee ever wish, for a moment, just for a m o ment, that thee was not a Quakeress? I have. It does [77]

cramp nature, and pinch enthusiasm and crush romance, and tread down ideality. It is all right - In my serious moments I feel it to be so - but there are times when I wish I was not bound to be a quakeress that I dared walk in some other path. But w e cannot cast away a conviction of what is right. If we adopt a principle because we have clearly seen it to be a saving one for us, we must hold it fast, or sin greatly by letting it go. I told the girls I would get the mail ready, and they must fill it with letters - Ann will write - and E N and her sisters - but mine have been [unexpectedly?] called away and I am afraid cannot though they will think [of you?] - not the less Affectionately thine - Elizzy L

13-

Whittier to Elizabeth Lloyd (August 28, 1841) Amesbury, 2 8 $ 8 $ Month. M y Dear Friend I did not think when I left Philad? that so long a period would pass without hearing from thee & thine: - but I suppose the fault will be charged as usual upon myself. H o w have you passed the summer? - What have you read & written? - What new combinations, beautiful, or grotesque, has the kaleidoscope of Existence exhibited? Does Elizabeth Nicholson still ex[78]

ercise her good natured wit at the expense of her friends - Perhaps, however, long ere this, you may have quarrelled with each other, & "stand aloof" like Coleridge's barons, when "Never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining" or, one or the other of you, may have found a new object of attention, and like Cousin Margaret & Martha, have no farther use for old friends! - For who can calculate upon the changes which "the Whirligig of Time" may effect in three short months? I sometimes shudder when I think of the mighty interests the changes - the life and death - the meetings & farewells, - the joys the agonies - that are compressed into a single moment of Time! But, I will not trouble thee with my serious mood. I have not seen Ann Wendell since I left her at Providence, soon after Y. Meeting. I have heard incidentally, that she was quite unwell at Newport: but delayed writing, as I did not know whether she was there or at home. Elisabeth wrote her some three weeks ago, but has recd no answer. We hope to hear that she has recovered from her illness. Before Jno. Candler & wife left this country they persuaded me to send out to them a collection of a few of my poems as they wished to have them republished in England. I find that I cannot obtain the pieces here which I want. Is it asking too much of thee, & Elisabeth Nicholson, to request you to copy for [79]

them the following pieces. "Thomas Chalkley," "The Exiles, a tale of N.E.," "The Norsemen," "The Merrimack," "Lines on receiving a Cane of the Pa. Hall ruins," "Gov. Porter," "The New Year's Address for 1839 in the Pa. Freeman," "The Funeral Tree of the Sokokis," "The Cypress Tree of Ceylon," "The World's Convention," "Daniel Wheeler." If you could at your leisure copy these for me, & place them in the hands of some one who is coming on to Salem or Lynn you will confer a favor upon me, for which I shall feel grateful. I have only time to add that both E. & myself would rejoice [to] hear from thee, whenever thou hast a disposition to converse by letter with thy assured friends on the banks of the Merrimack. Elisabeth is sick with the headache today, & I fear will not be able to write by this opportunity. Ever & truly thy frd John G. Whittier Didst thou get a paper from me containing a notice of the death of Lucy Hooper. She was one of my dearest friends - a noble girl - in heart as well as intellect. 14Elizabeth Lloyd to the Whittiers (September 12,

1841)

In the middle of this letter is the question, "Do you gossip about J. J. Gurney and our fair countrywoman?" This refers to Gurney's engagement to Eliza Paul Kirk[80]

bride, who was born in Philadelphia in 1801, the marriage taking place at Darlington, England, on October 21,1841. Eliza Gurney's letters were published by Richard F. Mott, in 1884. Philad* 9th mo 12th My dear Friends How very glad I was to receive your letters. I thought, Lizzie, when I wrote to thee, it might be long before I heard from thee, for I knew thee was "no correspondent." But I expected a letter from Greenleaf, and when the weeks, and the months, passed by, without hearing a word from him, I concluded I was of the forgotten ones. This was only a passing thought, however; for I remembered how often he was sick, and how much of his time was not his own - and strong in the faith of his friendship, I had decided to waive ceremony and write myself; feeling sure you would like to hear from us. Then I was taken ill of a bilious sickness, and confined to my chamber four long weeks. Until I recovered my strength, I spent most of my time in reading - for with my great weakness, and the extreme heat of the weather together, I was incapable of any other exertion. Dear E N , how kind she was to me then. Not a day passed, but she sent a note of affectionate inquiry, or an interesting book, or came herself to talk to me, when I could not in any way, repay her kindness. Have we "quarreled," Greenleaf? No! that we have not, nor never will. The thing is impossible. E N and myself are too unlike each other, not to have felt sometimes, [81]

those little agitations, which, will momentarily disturb the tenderest attachments. But there is an under current of affection which flows on unreached by these surface ripples. "Neither have we found another More to either than the other." Indeed one matrimonial project in each family, has left us no time to think of bettering our own condition. M y sister Ann will be married about three weeks before Martha. It has been an affair of long standing, and we have indulged her by keeping her secret most religiously. W e have all, of course, been much occupied - and what with the needful stitchery on such an occasion - the china consultations - the carpet discussions - the bureau debates - not to mention wedding dresses, &c &c - I have come to believe that matrimony is the most prosaic thing in life. A very humdrum, downright, sober, "business like transaction." A blessing be upon thee - Angelina Grimke Weld! Thine is the true theory, after all. Love in a cottage, with Pulse from the garden, cold water from the spring! What needeth man beside, or woman either? Thee asks, Greenleaf, what we have been reading this summer? Every thing! very fast, and very superficially; though some good thoughts and beautiful ideas, have "committed themselves to my memory." W e have been going over all of Blackwood's Magazines to get at the "Ambrosiana." Didst thou ever sip thereof? and dost thou remember what is said about [82]

a life of doing good in imagination only? and upon too much secluded intellectual indulgence? Christopher is as good to me as a church pastor. He talks inspiredly to my mental state. May I copy a passage or two? "It gives us (this living among books) without reality, the emotions we need - separates the grandeur of heroic strength from its endurance; gives us the consciousness of what is good in our nature, without the pain or peril which puts its strength to the proof; uniting us to our kind, but only in dreams and visions." And here is one for Lizzie. "Life allows only lowly virtue, its discipline requires of us only the humblest pleasure, and the humblest service; and from these, only by degrees, will it permit us to rise to great emotions and high duties. It is a perpetual denial to ambition, and requital of humility." Will thou not feel the truth of this, Dear E, in thy faithful fullfilment this summer of "woman's missions"? Thee sees I have had revealings of thy goodness and self-denial. When thee writes, tell me the whole truth; lest, peradventure, I think more of thee than thou deservest. W e have had Miss Sedgwick's "Letters" - and delightful letters they are! in the face of the critics. I was particularly attracted to what she says of Carlyle. Is he not a favourite writer with both of you? She visits him - describes the whereabouts - and says, "my impression is, that he lives in rather an humble way; but when the mind is filled with a grand and beautiful temple, it does not take in the dimensions of surrounding [83]

objects." Is not this a noble distinction between greatness, and circumstance? Let me see - what else? O h - Campbell's Petrarch and "Hyperion" and by the way, Greenleaf, let me tell thee I have been cultivating a taste for "Ballads" this summer, and have repented me of m y winter agone & want of perception. This verse of Longfellows, w o n me. "And the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be, And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave On the Lake of Galilee!" And Ε

is not this beautiful?

"This song was made to be sung at night, And he who reads it in broad daylight, Will never read the mystery right, And yet it is childlike easy" H o w much, cannot be read "aright in the broad daylight"! "Hyperion"! h o w much that book interested me. W h e n thee writes, Greenleaf, will thee tell me all about Longfellow? - He is m y idol just now. Are you tired of m y scraps? O n e more, and I will have done. "God only smites, that through the wounds of woe, The healing balm He gives may inlier flow." D o you gossip about J. J. Gurney and our fair countrywoman in Yankee land? W e do here, a great deal. W h e n I heard of it, their engagement, this thought [84]

passed through my mind. "J. J . Gurney, and Heaven too?" Intellectual gifts and Christian graces - what could be added? There is but one circumstance connected with it which I do not like; and that is, their marriage in England. A woman's own country, if she has neither Father nor Mother, ought to be to her as a father's house - and there she should be wooed and won; and from thence "carried away captive into a strange land." I did not receive a paper from thee - G, containing a notice of thy friend Lucy Hooper. Does thee realize in losing her this truth? "Death, to him who trusts in good, Vindicates his hardest blow." I too, have lost a friend this summer; and it is the first time in my life that death has touched what I loved nearly. Not that w e have been entirely exempt from the visits of the 'Stern hunter,' but he never robbed me before. When I was a child I lost a little brother, between Η and myself - and I remember perfectly how cold, and white, and beautiful he looked - and how mother told me he was an angel in Heaven, and that if I were a good girl I should go to him. Ten years ago we lost a very aged grandmother, whose only wish for months before she was taken away was, to die! And until I lost Mary Scull I never thought of Death and awfulness together. It had been to me a happy word, always. Mary was a favourite with our whole family. She had been in the habit of spending [85]

much time with us whenever she was in Philada coming in unceremoniously at any hour - and seeking us in any part of the house; until she felt like something that belonged to us. She had her particular seat at the table - her own place at the fireside; and as the period of her autumn visit recurs, we feel more and more the vacancy she has left. She was not a very intellectual girl, but possessed those qualities of the heart, which are more than intellect in a household companion. About two years before her death she became engaged to a young man of unexceptionable morals and connexions, (so we all thought, however) and I never saw a happier creature than she was then. Time proved that she had trusted a deceiver. He acted basely - and the match was broken off. Oh! how she suffered - and how resolutely she determined the world should not know it. She came to Philada (was with us then) and visited, and talked, and laughed, and looked happy, till some accused her of unfeelingness. But her exhausted spirits, sad countenance, and hopeless manner, when she would return home late in the evening, told us a different story. I used to persuade her sometimes to be more quiet; but I do believe some natures, under affliction must move, or die. She could not suffer and be still. Time went on and her health was evidently giving way. Oh! I am afraid she had little to lean upon but woman's pride; and it was to her a sharp spear yielding support, but piercing her the while. This summer a trip to the sea side was recommended by her [86]

physician - and Hannah and myself were to be of the party. I felt an unaccountable disinclination for going. Η and she went, and the sea bathing renovated her so surprisingly, that Η returned without her; her father being anxious she should remain till the last of the season. O n the day two weeks f r o m their parting, we received the invitation to her funeral! O h ! Greenleaf, it was death in awfulness! Three days illness and constant delirium - no regret for the past - no token of the future! I never had such a shock. Bitterly I remembered then the responsibilities we incur by every profession of friendship - and h o w unfaithful I had been to her. Many times when she would turn to me for consolation, and I had none to offer, I had wished she knew where to look for healing. I thought of "the balm in Gilead" and of the "physician there," but never had the courage to direct the eye upward which was fixed so sadly upon mine. She was what the world called pure minded. But h o w can we be purified without knowing the evil that is within us» God is just! But I love to think - He is also merciful. He may have chastised m y friend, until like the Hebrew of old, she "looked up, and saw the Hand that was upon her." Perhaps, m y dear friends I should not have said so much to you of a stranger - But it is the first time I have spoken to any one of Mary Scull - and it has been a relief to me. Mother and sisters desire their love - and pray remember in your best moments, your friend Ε [87]

E . N . told me she would say all about Ann - and I left it for her. Thanks for all your kindnesses in the way of papers and Books. I shall value J . Sturge's Work dear Ε for thy sake and his. W e have taken great pleasure, Greenleaf, in copying thy poetry - and I hope the pieces thee named to us are not all that are to be republished. D o not forget "The Pharisee" - "The Grave of Morgan" - " T h e Thunder Spirit" - "The White Mountains" - "The Spirit of the North" - "Worship" nor any of thy grand old Indian Poetry - If there is no hurry for the pieces - after the weddings are over - we should consider it a pleasure to copy for thee - do not let that trouble be in the way of getting up a complete edition of thy Poems. "The Burial of Abner." Thee had better look over what we have copied The pieces which were printed are I believe, correct. But I never can answer for what is taken from manuscript. If Ε would write oftener I should be very glad - and when thee does - tell me of what thee is thinking and doing and writing. The work thee spoke of - is it getting on? Prose or poetry. I received in the warm weather a letter from Μ Ball of Boston requesting me to write for a volume they are to get up at new year time - I have been too busy to think of it yet - But there is plenty of time - 12th of n t h mo. she wishes to hear from me.

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15· Elizabeth Lloyd to Elizabeth (February 23,

Whittier

1842)

The "beautiful lines on J. Sturge" to which reference is made, early in this letter, are Elizabeth Whittier's "Lines," written on the departure of Sturge, at the close of his tour of the United States, in 1841; they are printed among Elizabeth Whittier's poems in the complete editions of Whittier's works. In the same paragraph, "Moses C." is mentioned, none other than the cousin, Moses A. Cartland, whose name has appeared in the earlier letters. "Μ. V. Ball," of the postscript, is Martha V. Ball, active in the affairs of the Boston Female Anti-Slavery Society. Union St 2 mo. 23. M y dear Elisabeth I have just returned from a visit to Ann - and from the reading of thy letter, received a few days since. And can it be possible you have never heard from us all this time? And did you never receive a packet, containing the poetry Greenleaf wished us to copy for him - a letter to thee from E N - and one to both of you from E L Jr? Thy letter to Ann leaves me in doubt. Therein, thee refers to thy last, without saying when thy last was written. Neither E N , nor myself, have received letters from Amesbury since 8th mo. Those, we answered - and enclosed our replies in the before mentioned packet - which was forwarded by some unknown, engaged to be married Yankee. I had never much faith in private mails at any time - they stop too [89]

long on the road - And as for trusting a man in love again with my memories of absent friends "I would as soon put on A crown of slender frostwork before the melting sun!" Thee must not blame me if I tell thee the truth that w e have had some hard thoughts of you - and I have wished many times, that I felt no interest where so little evidence was given of its being reciprocated. N o w we will be friends again. W h a t are you doing for Abolition this winter? Is Greenleaf able to be actively engaged in the cause of the oppressed? I have wished that he would cease f r o m labour - but I have come to believe "'Tis worth a wise man's best of life 'Tis worth a thousand years of strife If he can lessen but by one, The countless ills beneath the sun." But he should take care of his body - The scabbard must be kept in repair in order that the sword may fulfill its appointed work. T h e paper containing thy beautiful lines on J. Sturge, I received, and sent to Ann; and we were all pleased to find that some one had noticed his mission here. While I am on the subject - 1 want to beg of thee the same paper for myself. I could copy the piece, but if thee can obtain it for me in print would be gratified - and will thee send w o r d at the same time whether those lines, headed by a paragraph of Moses [90]

C's are thine? Another request I have to make. Taking it for granted, you have about the house, a great deal of Greenleaf's poetry - editorial prose &c &c &c as it would be much more valuable here, than in his o w n country, I should particularly like to have it. I am collecting all in m y possession of his, in a scrap book, because I enjoy every thing more in print than in manuscript; and Elizzy, if thee cannot obtain it otherwise, it would not be at all wicked to steal it. There is no harm thee knows in taking f r o m the rich to give to the poor - (not meaning to corrupt thy principles at all.) Speaking of "the p o o r " - do you not pity us in Philada now? Men are daily losing their thousands and tens of thousands - and for those w h o have less, the hard times are no j o k e - W e are all passing through a most harassing and doubtful dispensation As to paper offered for Discounting - it is of no more use than the continental money m y father has stored away in his desk - And Ε though we have in Philada our "poor rich men," there are very very many rich poor men - Take away their money and they feel stripped of every thing. And this is not the worst. The depression of business, lack of public confidence and losses of the higher classes, are felt where it is most to be lamented, amongst the working classes w h o make only their daily bread. The very poor - whose inheritance is pauperism and misery, never need suffer here. Their wants are all physical - (sad that it should be so) and by a late estimate of our population, it has been found that the public charities are [91]

more than sufficient for their relief. Those who have not only maintained themselves, but an honourable spirit of independence, are the sufferers this winter. A most interesting looking woman came here yesterday with a child in her arms which she had carried f r o m Schuylkill 3d. st. Her appearance - faint - cold and exhausted told us what she needed. After satisfying her hunger - I asked her if she was a widow - " N o , mam, but my husband's heart is broke, to see me want, when he can get no work - and he will not hold up his head." " I would rather die myself than ask alms, but m y " — she could not speak, but pointed to her poor little famished baby - This is only one instance. W e know of such suffering daily. This story brings Dickens to mind. He has arrived here - I have entertained a prejudice against him but "Master Humphreys Clock" conquered it. Dost thou not think he is the most practical romancer that ever lived? N o one, I am persuaded, could turn from human misery, after reading his books; an effect produced by no other fictions with which I am acquainted. Blessings on the man who brightens the rusty chain, with which the Almighty has bound lordly man to his suffering brother. I see the "Standard" now, in place of the "Freeman." I wished to take the paper but my father forbade me. He did not altogether like the Sonnets. Very good taste - dost thou not think he has? But Elizzy, I an interested in L. M . Child. Her "Marius," dost thou remember it, was the first thing that made me love [92]

her; and her Editorials, and "letters from Ν York," have established my sympathies with her mind and character. They contain sentiments to which my best nature responds, and appeals, which my heart cannot resist. Because she holds doctrines which I do not opinions in which I can take no part - 1 am not prepared to say " N o good can come out of Nazareth." In truth, I am aweary, never was more so than this winter of seeing characters dissected, and motives picked to pieces. Beyond a certain point, we have no right to judge one another; and this spirit of criticising, and condemning, and prying into the secret promptings of action, will "eat up every green thing." I am fully persuaded, that it is necessary and good, for men to think and act differently, even in the same cause. In moral, as well as in religious associations, the priestly office must be filled; and would it not be absurd, to expect, when all mankind compose the Synagogue, that those who minister to the people, should speak in the same tongue? "Touch not the Lord's anointed," is little heeded, in these irreverent times. Ann desires me to say, with her love, she will write to thee soon, and let me tell thee, she is like another person lately - runs - actually runs, about like any of us, and looks bright and well. She is all to me that she has been - and though I am not quite naturalized, in Fifth St - yet, to sit beside her there, seems as it always seemed in their old home, like getting beside "still waters." W i t h my kind regards to Greenleaf - and Medolah's [?] wish for the sick pilgrim, "that Allah [93]

would give him strength to pursue his journey" I am as ever thy sincere friend, E.L. Jr. P.S. Elizzy - what manner of w o m a n is Μ V Ball? She has treated us most shabbily - T h o u knows perhaps, that she sent to us to write for a volume of Poetry (I thought, when I read the letter " O h Poetry, what follies" are committed in thy name). I replied immediately, giving m y promise to comply with the request. W h e n I sent m y contribution, with E N ' s "Could ye not watch with me one hour," I thought mine, needed explanation - and a letter was enclosed, which required an answer - N o answer came. This did not prevent us f r o m sending a small parcel for the Fair, which we do not k n o w that she received; and as for the book we can get no tidings of it, in any way. N o w Ε. I do not think we have done any great things, or conferred the smallest obligation on MVB, personally - but she was the medium through which we conveyed our interest in the cause - and she should have acknowledged what she received. I must say I like to have m y motives appreciated, and to k n o w that they are appreciated. Beyond this I do not care - and I should decline any further "business transactions" with an individual w h o so entirely lacks common courtesy. Eliza Hacker has a little "Sarah" - and is in safety.

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ι6. Whittier to Elizabeth Lloyd (.April li, 1842) Harriet Winslow, of the second paragraph, was the sister of Louisa Maria Sewall, the wife of Samuel E. Sewall, Boston lawyer and abolitionist. Louisa Sewall died in 1850, and a little later, Harriet, who had been married to Charles List, an anti-slavery man, became a widow. As time passed, the cordial relations of Harriet and Mr. Sewall deepened, and in 1857 they were married. It was to this happily married pair that Whittier dedicated his volume, In War Time, prefixing to the volume the poem now printed in his works under the title, "To Samuel E. Sewall and Harriet W. Sewall." Amesbury, 1 1 $ 4 $ Month 1842. M y Dear friend, EL, Eureka! it is found - The package of M S . which thee & Elizabeth Nicholson were kind enough to copy for me, is at hand. Some three months ago when I was away, a bundle of papers came to the P.O. for me; so I was told. As the Post Master said they were sealed up at both ends, & that he should therefore not let me have them as so many papers, I paid no farther attention to it, but left it as I had a hundred things of the kind before, to fmd its way to the General Post-OfEce. The other day I was in the P.O. & the P. Master put this package into my hands, & said it was he believed, M S . & not newspapers, & I saw at once thy handwriting. So that mystery is solved. Many thanks to you [95]

both for your kindness, & I trust I shall some day be able in part to reciprocate it: although I am afraid I am not half grateful enough for pains which m y friends so cheerfully take to oblige me. This letter will be taken to P. by a young friend of Sister's & mine, Harriet Winslow of Portland, Me: - a girl of fine mind, somewhat of the transcendental order, although still a member of our Society. She has written some beautiful pieces of Poetry, strongly imbued with the new Boston Philosophy. I wish thee could k n o w her, as well as her sister Louisa M . Sewall, of Boston, w h o is also with her at Philadelphia, in company with their sick mother. I regretted to find by Ann's letter that thou hadst not been well this winter; but art thou not glad the Spring has at last come; For myself I feel thankful for it; but our East winds here are dreadful & will g r o w worse for the next six weeks. I long to be in Philadelphia mainly indeed to see you all - but partly to escape these bitter blue NorthEasters. Tell Elisabeth Nicholson that by great good fortune she escaped getting printed in that Boston Book. It was a failure, compared to our N o r t h Star - an utter failure. I am glad for your sakes that you are not immortalized in it. Your worsted &c, was the admiration of Boston folks. J. Sturge's Book is I understand in Press for republication here. W h a t will Friends do with him? I am writing in a gallop, as I have only a moment more to spare. Has thee seen "Zanoni" - Bulwer's new mys[96]

ticismi I have read it because my organ of marvelousness got excited by hearing about it. I ought not to read such things, but I can't well help it sometimes. E . Nicholson speaks in her letter to E. about L. & H. Hoag. Did thee meet them? & Didn't thee like them; They are our best sort of folks - the excellent of the Earth. In great haste, so pardon my blunders & remember me kindly to all the family & believe me truly thy friend. J G Whittier P.S. D o send me something from thy pen. I know thee has something written.

17Elizabeth Lloyd to Whittier (May 2, 1842) Union St. 5th mo 2. 1842. M y dear friend, W e were talking last evening of "Yankee-land" and sea serpents, and storms and North Easters, (my father has known something of the sea in his day) which naturally made me think of thee - and said I to myself, since he is not yet blown this way, I will write to him. Thank thee, for thy letter-in-haste; it was very welcome - and I was truly glad to hear from you once again. Many things have occurred in our immediate family, to render the past winter less pleasant than the [97]

last - and your letters were, I assure thee, among the missing enjoyments. Thee asks if the Spring does not make me glad? Yes! more than glad - It fills me brimfull of happiness; and never, I think, is my heart more warm with grateful love towards the bountiful Bestower of all gentle blessings, than when He sends Spring's first soft airs through my room window, where the sun shines all day long. Dost thou not think, Greenleaf, that it is more natural to grow better, in gladness, than in grief? purer - by being blessed, than by being afflicted? I know it is not the creed we learn - but my experience teaches me that it is so. I am sure I have said "Father forgive me," more humbly and sincerely from the fulness of a grateful heart, than ever I did from a sore and chastised one. I have never responded to the sentiment, that afflictions are good for us. And although it has been said, and beautifully, that the Winter, and the Autumnal Seasons are as necessary to man as to the vegetable creation, that his green leaves must wither, and his branches must die, in order that the sap may run downward to deepen him in the root of Good, yet I cannot say I feel the truth of it. I cannot believe we are punished, that good may come. The good we receive, is wholly, and independently, of the Mercy of our compassionate father; - and if he spares the sap to the naked tree, it is only because the soul's life is precious in His sight. What do you read now? Transcendental Theology? Your Boston folk must come back to Lord Bacon and [98]

Dymond, if they would see the promised land of true philosophy - I have been very much interested in Carlyle's works of late. Does thee not think his truths are worth hunting out from the rubbish of his style. Thee sees every thing, and has of course read his "Burns" - and his critique on Sir Walter. Are not his spiritual perceptions wonderful? He has certainly written the ten righteous things for which his works will be saved. Respecting our Yearly Meeting, just past, I have not much to say. Indeed, I have discovered that Yearly Meetings are not in my line. In the first place, it is very uncomfortable to be turned out of one's own sanctum sanctorum. Then, company every day, and all day long, is a weariness, particularly when they are strangers, with whom you have not an idea in common. Thee will think me downright inhospitable, when I tell thee, and it is the truth, that I am glad to see the friends come, but delighted to have them go. We are what we are - and I cannot help it, that crowds, and bustle, and hurrying to and fro, are not to my taste. Good must come to me quietly, whether it be in a religious or social way. The pleasantest hour I spent Yearly Meeting week (with the exception of one evening) was with EN, when we stole off together, and walked and talked in Washington Square. I can perfectly understand L. M. Child's feelings, when she says, after the fire in New York, "I mourned my lost flowers, for I loved them; but I could not love two thousand people." Our women's meeting were favoured with the [99]

"Minutes of the Meeting for Sufferings" during the past year; by which it appears that Friends of Philadelphia, have "felt constrained" to address the Meeting for Sufferings in London, and to advise them, touching some of the usages of that body. First, with regard to the privilege which English friends have, of "sending forth to the world writings on doctrinal subjects which have neither been supervised nor sanctioned by the Society in a collective capacity"; and secondly respecting their custom of granting certificates to members whose errands here, may be of a moral or philanthropic character. They represent, that however safe such a passport might be in the hands of some individuals, the rule is not good in the main, if any could make an improper use of it. Officious addresses might be circulated, and other steps taken to forward peculiar views which, however injudicious in themselves, could not be noticed, so long as individuals thus engaged, were screened by certificates from their Monthly or Quarterly meeting. Thee will perceive at once, that J. J. Gurney's books, and J. Sturge's labours in the Emancipation Cause, are alluded to. I should not have mentioned, what must pain thee for thy absent friend, if it had not been made public, and as thee might hear it, with omissions, or additions, I thought it best to state the truth about it. Much has been said upon the subject - and a great deal of (I think) unnecessary indignation got up, but I do not enter into it. I have settled the matter satisfactorily to my own mind thus. Our Friends, by advising an alteration in the Discipline [100]

of the body in England, and acknowledging that certain obnoxious steps have been taken in Conformity with that discipline, admit, that the Body is the culprit, and not the individual. Whether the usages of our Transatlantic bretheren are, or are not, calculated to promote the spread of a more Christian phil[osophy] and a more tolerant Christianity than our own, becomes another matter for consideration. And after all, Greenleaf, as our immediate responsibility, presses more and more seriously upon us, "Society movements" become of less and less consequence. It is a momentous truth, that we are accountable through no medium, whatever, and although some of us have been educated to regard the proceedings of our elder friends, as disciples, rather than as judges, a good lesson for the young, yet this will not excuse us, if we "rush with the multitude upon the bridge" our sires have constructed, without seeing clearly what we are to do on the other side. W.J.A. was here the other day, and we complimented him upon his having passed through the fire unsinged. I must tell you a happy speech of his. Overtaking John Griscom the day after his martyrdom, on the m o b ground, William said to him, "Tread lighdy o'er the ashes of the dead." W . read to us a most interesting letter f r o m Augustus Wattles. Did thee k n o w - Greenleaf - that his valuable life is thought to be very nearly ended? His nervous system is completely shattered. He says of

[101]

himself - "I read a letter from a friend, and if [I] suffer myself to feel one thrill ofjoy, I am ill." He speaks to William confidentially, of the state of his mind, of his many wrestlings, and conflicts, and baptisms, and in conclusion expresses his fervent thankfulness that he is now, "willing to live or to die" - the Christian's highest attainment. The trustees for the Emlen legacy, have, too late, concluded that "Augustus Wattles is the man." Alas! when will men learn to aid, in time, "The spirits struggling for our race"? Greenleaf - will thee lend thy aid to EN and myself, in establishing a new Abolition sect» We shall steer a middle course, between "Lucretia" [Lucretia Mott] and C. Burleigh, (By the way, Charles is here again, abolishing capital punishments with all his eloquence), and the Liberty Party. Thee does not altogether like thefirst,and surely cannot approve of the last. Our common friends are all well - but I have no love messages, our family are all out, except my own to Lizzie - And now Greenleaf, does thee ever mean to write me a good long letter, when thee is not in a hurry? It is really very unsatisfactory to do all the talk - for I am not like Coleridge - my audience inspires me, not my subject, and I declare I will not have thee for my oracle, if thee sends no response. As ever truly thy friend E.L. Jr. PS. Nathan Kite is an Elder - alas for me - I have no hope of him now - would thee advise me to turn preacher? [10a]

Have you any serious ideas of going to farm that "jumping off place" Lizzie talks of? or is it a romance of her getting up? Tell her I do not feel robbed by her poet friend. We are not sure he has seen "Egypt," but very certain, he has read "The World's Convention." E . N wishes Ε to send word of all the wicked things you said of us while you thought we did not write. But she need not put it in my letter - I don't want to know them - for does thee know, Greenleaf, I could not like thee for a long time, because of what thee said about me, before we were acquainted? I [am glad?] the manuscripts came to hand at last, though it had no [itorn paper] in the Post Office. I know now why it was so long coming. [It was?] despatched on Friday - and that was always my unlucky [day]. Ε Shall we not see thee, or both of you, soon?

18. Whittier to Elizabeth

Lloyd

(August 20, 1842) Amesbury, 20Φ δ'.1? Mo 1842 My Dear friend Elizabeth, I embrace a spare moment - a lull in the unmitigated gale of talk which we have had since our friend W.J. A. has been with us - to write thee a line - not however - a letter - & if I write incoherently attribute the odd ideas to W.J. A. who despite his hoarseness from a cold, [103]

has been abundant in his conversational dispensations. W e were very glad to see him, & to hear directly from so many of our Philad? friends. My friends, like Charles Lamb's - are to me a glorious possession - a rich mine of wealth - calling forth from my heart, silent thanksgivings when I look them over in memory as a miser does his gold - one by one passing in their varied beauty, & goodness before me. Is it nothing that I have felt the kindly smile of the pure-spirited Folien "sliding into my soul," - that I have enjoyed the rare & beautiful companionship of Lucy Hooper, and of others who dead to the world are to me living realities? W h o shall set a value in the world's coin upon the worth of the intellectual communion I have enjoyed & still enjoy with the Channings, the Pierponts, the Longfellows & Bryants, - with Weld & Birney & Goodell & others engaged in the cause of humanity? And, my correspondence - what a comfort to look over old, friendly letters - to anticipate new ones! And thy letters & thy poetical sketches which I have, I estimate highly - they are unlike others - unique - the poetry of Quakerism - graceful - yet with a solemn beauty & reverence which reminds one of the Quaker gallery, with its fine selections from the oriental richness of the Scriptures. Is n't it time, by the way, for that picture-gallery of old Friends to be forthcoming? Of course thou art engaged upon it; as it would be very wrong to let my concern in that respect fall to the ground. Will« 1 Allison [Allinson] wanted to make a visit to [ 104]

the oldfarm at Haverhill - so off we went like Southey's pilgrims to Campostello. Wasn't it very closely verging on the sublime of the ludicrous? But, let me warn thee & thy friends not to laugh about it. Look upon it in altogether a serious light. Sister E. laughs in spite of my gravity, & thinks it altogether uncanonical for a saint to visit his own shrine. I am interrupted - I cannot even allude to thy kind unanswered letter; but must find some other opportunity. In haste thy assured friend John G. Whittier. PS. Ε read me a paragraph from a note of thine about "Zanoni." Thee calls it a wicked book & I suppose the sin of thy reading it will fall upon my head. Don't thee suppose that was the very identical "book of Imaginations" against which the good old friend spoke at North meeting last year at Υ . M. time? 19. Whittier to Elizabeth Lloyd (August 22, 1842) "William" is William J. Allinson, who was on the point of bringing to a close his visit to Amesbury described in the preceding letter. If there were any doubt as to the date of this letter it is dispelled by a long letter from Allinson, written August 26, 1842 (Pickard-Whittier papers, Harvard College Library), describing his journey home and [105]

his reading the copied poem to Elizabeth Lloyd and Elisabeth Nicholson. This poem is in Whittier's collected works with the title "To , with a Copy of Woolman's Journal." The identity of the Boston young lady to whom the poem was addressed has not yet been determined with certainty, there being at present two candidates for the honor, Harriet Winslow, who later became Mrs. Samuel E. Sewall, and Caroline Neagus, afterwards Mrs. Richard Hildreth. Second Day Morning. William goes this morning in the 7 oclk conveyance, & as he will probably show thee a little piece of mine, which I have copied for him, I wish to state that it was not written for publication, but solely for the person to whom it was addressed - a Boston young lady of much intelligence - a disciple of the Transcendental School. I accompanied it with a copy of J Woolman. I do not think I over rate the good old Jerseyman. A friend of mine - a clergyman - the admirable translator of the beautiful & graceful German tale of "Undine" - in a late letter to me says: "It is beautiful to recognize in a man who lived more than 100 years ago the lineaments of the same divine spirit which we have so lately seen manifested in our loved & lost Folien. A sublime singleness & purity & loftiness of purpose combined with tenderness almost feminine equally marked these heroic children of God & disciples ofJesus. How glorious their uncompromising integrity! Did not the difference between them consist mainly in developement? Born in Germany & [106]

in the present century cannot we imagine that Woolman would have resembled our late friend - that his profound inward searchings into the mysterious abysm of the soul - his detection of things that actually differed though seemingly alike, his fearless separation of the detected evil motives mixed with the good would all have made him a worthy compeer of the educated preacher of righteousness. Yet, however different their intellectual culture, these devoted Christians, though divided in this world by time & space by [a] century, may have already met & embraced with a joyful reality of union which we are not now able to apprehend." - I was pleased with the sentiment, and have copied it thinking it might interest thee. In haste JGW. 20.

Elizabeth Lloyd to Whittier {October i, 1842) Rahel, mentioned at the very end of this letter, was Rahel Lewin, born in 1771, and, in 1814, married to Karl August Varnhagen von Ense. Carlyle wrote of her, "That without beauty, without wealth, foreign celebrity, or any artificial nimbus whatever, she had grown in her silendy progressive way to be the most distinguished woman in Berlin; admired, partly worshipped by all manner of high persons, from Prince Louis of Prussia downwards; making her mother's, and then her husband's house the centre of an altogether brilliant circle there. This is the 'social [107]

phenomenon of Rahel.' " This passage is from the essay entitled "Varnhagen von Ense's Memoirs," in the fifth volume of Carlyle's Critical and Miscellaneous Essays. Whittier, in his poem " T o with a Copy of Woolman's Journal," mentions "the blue-eyed German Rahel," but, as regards the color of her eyes, in a letter to her sister, Rahel writes, "thou hast blue eyes, and a far other life than I with my stars and black ones." This sentence is quoted in Carlyle's essay just mentioned. An account of Rahel's life and influence is in Bertha Meyer's Salon Sketches, 1938. This letter is assigned to the year 1842 because it refers to Margaret Wendell's "pass-meeting" day; Margaret Wendell was married to Elisha Maule in November of that year. The letter is postmarked "Oct. 5 " and "first day," in the first paragraph, must, from the context, mean the first day of October, and not Sunday. W h y should not I tell thee, Greenleaf, what good company thee has been to me all this day - sitting alone over a quilt: - Thy thoughts, in many a burning w o r d and soothing line, have made me forget that I staid at home f r o m an excursion party - against m y will - this w a r m sunny first day of October. T h o u hast been beside me all day long - warning, instructing, and feeding me with "pleasant bread"; and is it strange, that m y heart should overflow with affectionate gratitude, when I remember, thou art my friend? Greenleaf I sometimes almost envy thee - not thy increasing fame - but the peace-giving consciousness thee must bear ever about thee - of having done so much f o r thy race. T o have been a ministering spirit [108]

in sickness and sorrow - a silent comforter when no word could be borne - to have moistened old eyes unused to tears, and filled young hearts with gladness - and more, - to know that thy strength has been given to the weak, thy arm interposed between the oppressor and his victim that the helpless one perished not by the hand of the smiter; - does it not make life sweet, and its sunshine perpetual? And the unwritten gratitude, unuttered sympathy, unspoken love, which thou hast called forth - do not they come to thee sometimes, in visions, as the angels which glide to and fro upon thy ladder to Heaven? sustaining thee in weariness - and strengthening thee in self-denial? Your last kind note-letters received by W.J.A. were delightful. I did not expect them, for I thought he would give you no time to think of us. I hope William told thee in his letters how much enjoyment his visit to Amesbury, brought us. W e went up to Burlington - E N and I purposely to hear him talk about you, and w e passed a pleasant evening in listening to him - And he showed us your Mother's likeness - It made me love her almost, for its striking resemblance to our dear deceased friend A. Barker. The poetry he brought has given me more pleasure to be the possessor of, than I can well express. I have circulated it freely - for I know it would be thought just the thing - here. The Poet may speak out - and be unheard - the Abolitionist may rebuke in vain - but "What the Quaker says" will be always appreciated in Philadelphia. Greenleaf, I wish I could understand "Transcenden[109]

talism." So far as I can see, it is not a creed - nothing tangible - but, like the Hicksite's Heaven, a state: or rather, a temption [sic], through which some minds, owing to their constitution, must pass, before they can secure the Truth. And does it not interest thee to observe, how a man's temptations take their form and hue from his own experience? George Fox, thou knows, when he was becoming a new man, was beset by blue devils. Luther was haunted by gigantic demons in Cardinal's hats; and John Bunyan had to wrestle with spirits, seven times more wicked than he had been. George Fox could never have been a Transcendentalism Like all seekers after truth, he might be likened to a pearl-diver; and in his passage through this great deep which rolls between all of us and the "pearl of great price," he saw only the monsters he was appointed to overcome. Perhaps the Transcendentalist would be he, who, on the same errand, but with an eye for the beautiful, would be allured into the untrodden coral groves the mermaiden bowers and crystal sea caves - to tell us that "Eye had not seen nor ear heard" the mysteries and harmonies which had been revealed to him, for the enlightenment of his race. And his danger would be, not in seeing, but in taking up his rest before he arrived at the foundation on which the white stone lies. So long as the mind remains in a seeking state, these temptations by the way, are but as wings - on which it mounts up to its Heaven at last. [no]

T o begin a new subject - 4th day last - was Madge's "passmeeting" day - She turned red and white - and white and red, sitting beside her mother under the gallery, till I began to feel quite sick for her; but Elisha's presence reassured her - and they "declared their intentions" admirably - emboldened doubtless, by the love that casteth out fear. I left monthly meeting, directly after the ceremony was over, to go to A n n alone, and sick - at home. Poor A n n ! it seemed almost too much, to be confined on that day. Resigned and patient as she always is under suffering, and the privations that sickness brings - with this last attack, her fortitude was almost ready to give way. She has been so very much better this summer - and w e all thought so hopefully, to see her quite well again, that it was a great disappointment indeed. However - she regained her cheerfulness, before I left her - and Madge came laughing home, wishing she could dance, she said, for pure j o y that her first dread ordeal was passed. In the evening, they had their bridesmaids and groomsmen elect - and a pleasant time Hannah told me they had - only that Greenleaf and Lizzie W were not there. Truly it will be pleasant to have y o u here once again. I laugh now Greenleaf, to remember h o w mortally afraid I was o f thee, when y o u were in Philada together last - to recall m y thoughts o f a tall dark man "With a stern cold look — and a haughty tread, And something awful about his head, Like all the children of Poesy." [Ill]

There seemed a great gulph between us then - H o w did I get over it? But Lizzie dear - my heart warmed towards thee from the first. Did Ε ever tell thee, Greenleaf, of our first meeting at friend W's? When I came - she was not in the room - but, presently Madge slipped out, and soon after, I heard a sort of scuffle in the entry - and Madge saying, thee must come in. After some resistance on E's part, into the parlour they came. I had a likeness of O'Connell in my hand - and when I talked about it, she looked eloquence, though she said never a word. I recollect feeling perfectly delighted to find her a little girl, like myself - for I had expected to meet a great big Yankee woman. Madge remains at home this winter - a suitable arrangement I think for all parties. Her family could not well spare her - and their house is quite large enough for all. You will find some changes among us - when you come - Friend Coleman's family expect to pass the winter at Nicholsons - being obliged to break up housekeeping on account of M. Newbold's state of health. Martha and Israel, too are moving into "Uncle Maule's" - a prudential change - Israel, like all other men, doing no business - and his income being insufficient to maintain an establishment of his own. Have Μ Cartland and thyself given out the paper you talked of? It is more needed now than ever - and here - in our city. Greenleaf, cannot thee feel it thy duty to come to Philada and set up an organ for the growing [112]

intelligence of our own society? It is selfish to wish to subject thee to the pains and penalties of Editorial life but the "Friend" has no place for it - nor room for free thought, or liberty of sentiment. Indeed - what is that paper now, but "An oracle whose wire worked meanings Only wake a quiet scorn?" How is it that the Editor is no longer willing to appear as a supporter of the Ark of Abolition? If it was ever right for him to speak for the slave, it must be wrong for him to be silent now. I am told that he pleads in excuse, his trammeled situation - as the mouthpiece of a committee - but this only makes the matter worse. How could a conscientious man submit, to have his convictions of Right smothered by a committee? It passes my understanding. I have a good and pretty thing of W.J.A.'s which I do not send - hoping to see you so soon. It is addressed to Μ Newbold, on the occasion of her leaving the old Coleman homestead in Burlington. Thou art aware, perhaps, that John Woolman, had the remarkable vision related in his Journal - in that house; and William J. has enlarged thereupon, beautifully - 1 have also some fun of EN's - touching your pilgrimage to Haverhill. They await your arrival. Do not ask me for anything, when thee comes. Poetry has been a forgotten thing with me of late. I have been living for others this summer - not myself and if, as Rahel says, "the end of all thought and all

[»3]

Speech is a deed" -1

m a y , perhaps, have been living

m o r e profitably than as i f I had spent m y time setting forth m y o w n vain imaginations. M y kind love, w i t h that o f m y sisters to Ε

and believe m e as ever T h y friend E.L. Jr.

21. Elizabeth Lloyd to Whittier (March 12 and April 7, 1844) This letter was, without doubt, written in 1844. April 7 fell on First Day in the years 1839, 1844, and 1850. The reference in the postscript to Margaret's baby eliminates 1839, for she was married in November, 1842. This same reference makes 1844 more probable than 1850, and this year is supported by the fact that the letter was mailed without a postage stamp, these being in use in 1850 but not in 1844. Part o f this letter was quoted by Mr. Mordell in his Quaker Militant (page 190). He is wholly incorrect in supposing that it was written in Dover, Ν . H., and that Elizabeth was "pathetically" urging Whittier to visit her there. Even were the first portion of the letter not plainly headed "Union St." the reference to St. Peter's bells in the second part would reveal Philadelphia as the place where the letter was written, for St. Peter's church was located about a block from the Lloyds' home at 88 Union Street. So Elizabeth's visit to Dover in 1844 is a myth. It is true that the letter is postmarked " D o v e r " but this is because some visitor from N e w England to Philadelphia took it with him along with a budget of letters from others, to be ["4]

mailed at home and save postage. It will be remembered that the Wendell family came to Philadelphia from Dover. Union St. 3 mo. 12th. Spirit silent dumb and cold! what hath possessed thee? A fit or perverseness, or a fit of sickness? despair or dyspepsia? Art thou stiffening in a snow drift - becoming a positive petrifaction, the state to which all things Northern naturally arrive? or, by way of overcoming the "freeze u p " tendency hast thou taken to matrimony and my dear-ing? Or hath the busy, unprofitable, restless, tormenting, soul-wearing heartsoiling spirit of Politics eaten thee up? If this be so, I warn thee that E L for one, will not (bear in mind thee promised her a life estate in thy kind regard) be crowded out of thy remembrance by any such ignoble foe, for "Friends are friends, Once made such by the flow of common thought, By feelings quarried from the selfsame vein, By faith in one beginning and one end By indignation kindled at one wrong By sympathy in one ennobled cause And cannot be unmade." Conjecture aside however we hereby summon thee to appear, within the coming months, in our august presence, to answer the charge of high crimes and misdemeanors against the laws of courtesy, and the usages of loyal brave to lady fair; under the penalty of our high displeasure - and the utter forfeiture of all the

["5]

rights and privileges with which, in the plenitude of our trustfulness, we have invested thee - and on our own part, a strict observance of all the coldnessess and punctiliousness, laid down in the young ladies guide book as absolutely indispensable to propriety in her intercourse with old bachelors. 4th mo. 7th. First day - and St. Peter's bells chiming so beautifully, I am sure they would cause thee to forget " I hated music." This same chime of bells, and a large gilded cross surmounting the new steeple in which they are hung, will be among the innovations thee will have to mourn over on thy arrival. Puseyism, that dread monster, in the form of a very Roman-Catholicpriest looking young clergyman, has crept into old St Peters, and the new enthusiam for him and his doctrines, threatens to sweep all before it. Vespers, morning and evening, lectures, prayer meetings and divers other unwonted observances, are causing much alarm to the staid congregation who learned their Gospel and catechism from Dr Lancey and good old Bishop White; and in consequence of the dissatisfaction in this Church and many others - a General Assembly will be called this summer, where the Protestant doctrines will be fairly discussed. I think I must be one of the listeners. Conducted as the argument will be, by an equal number of opposite views, it will be a most important chapter in Church History - and it a subject which has always interested me, since I could think [ii6]

at all. Is it not a little singular - that the more firmly we become persuaded of the insufficiency of all mere creeds - the more eager we are to understand these doctrinal differences? Perhaps not so much for the settlement of a direct question, as for what it involves. So far as I can see, the Puseyites are bringing in nothing new. The Episcopal Church of England has always been cumbered with a Babylonish garment; and if from time to time her good and spirituallyminded ministers have preached glad tidings, so that the poor and ignorant could understand, that for them, Christ came into the world, such preachers have been the innovators - the new lights - and if this dispute is a question of innovation merely, the Puseyites can prove, I think, that they hold to the ancient doctrines. W e must observe the difference between Continental Protestantism - that of France, Switzerland and Germany, brought about by the love of truth in their great reformers - Luther, Zwingli and Calvin - and that of England. She only adopted it from motives of expediency. And in the cold ceremonials of the Court, how should vital religion be kept alive? The atmosphere itself is an extinguisher. England on the tapis, reminds me ofJohn Pease, expected here again tomorrow. We became quite well acquainted with him before he went away and he pleases me entirely. He has a remarkable face - uninteresting when he is silent - but when lighted up with feeling, or intelligence, one you could not soon forget;

and his smile is peculiar and meaning. There is nothing of what w e call the Englishman, about him - and he has one fine trait for which I almost love him - consideration for all present. The humblest individual is of consequence to him. He is never the star in company, save as his frank and very agreeable manners, make him the unconscious centre of attraction. I say nothing of his ministry, because that gift, or trust, or whatever it may be called, should not be criticized, even if it were faulty. Come and see him and hear for thyself. I am told he is a warm personal friend of Joseph Sturge. D o come, Greenleaf! I am almost forgetting how thee looks and seems, - and we will have many a nice long talk in our parlour, about the past and present and to come. I sometimes ask myself, if I ever did really see thee face to face - if my intercourse with thee was not altogether imaginary - a dream - if I am not indebted to my imagination alone for thy friendship? W e have had something here this winter, in the way of an exhibition, quite novel. Paris, in carved wood! The river Seine marked out with glass, and all the principal buildings - Palaces, Churches, Convents &c - carved in an exact resemblance to the reality. Here is the Louvre, and palace of Thuilleries - opposite (the river, thou know, runs through the town and is crossed by bridges) the Chamber of Deputies - the Champ de Mars - then, the fine old church of Notre Dame - itself a history - and scattered about, the dwellings of the great men, Lamartine, Guizot, & others - the [ii8]

Cemetery of Pere La Chaise - interested me very much; with an eyeglass you could distinctly trace out the graves and monuments - and as all the historic associations crowded upon my mind. I felt as if I could understand the enthusiasm men feel in treading upon the ground where greatness - or genius, or tragedy and ruin have been. I never saw anything like it before - and so vividly does my memory retain the picture that I am sure I could go just where I wished to go, were I set down in Paris. I have not said half of what I had to say - and here is my paper about filled. Thee recollects the poetry I sent thee in my last? Well the Authoress has been spending the winter in Boston at the house of her maternal grandfather, Josiah Bradley - and she returns next week - preparatory to settling there for life with Dr Gray. Dost know him? When she is married and settled and a', do find them out and make her acquaintance. She would delight thee, with her good gifts, and beauty, and loveliness. If thee was any other than a hard hearted bachelor I would tell thee all the romance of their love and courtship - but as it is I do not mean to run the risk of being thought a simpleton. It is one of the rare instances, where a woman, high souled and noble hearted, is mated with her own. Our family are all well and EN and Ann - for her I have given up all hope of her entire recovery. She has been round several times since I was sick (I forgot to crave thy sympathy for a three weeks Influenzacough) but looks wretchedly - She tells me thee has

["9]

written to her - and thinks thee has the best friends in the world. P.S. So do I! E. Lloyd Jr. Tell Lib she ought to come and help Madge nurse her baby. It cries everlastingly - under the rose. It would break her heart to know I thought so.

22.

Elizabeth Lloyd to Whittier (September 8, 1849) The "Diary," mentioned near the close of this letter, is Whittier's Margaret Smith's Journal, which was published early in the year 1849. Union St. 9th mo 8th 49 M y dear friend I have been looking this evening at a fine print of Henry Martyn. It recalled to my memory thy beautiful lines "The Missionary" - and in taking down the volume which contains them, my thoughts have been going a long journey backwards, to the days when I trembled all over inside and out with the girlish hope and fear of meeting the author. Ten years have passed - and here in the very same apartment sit I, living over again tonight, every incident connected with the first possession of that book - the first morocco-ed and gilded [120]

edition of thy Poems, and looking over the shadows which in that period have crossed the Panorama of my existence, away into the bright broad streak of light and j o y through which my early womanhood glided. That book - 1 remember perfectly well that I had no money to buy it when it first came out, for iv. my young days I was very improvident, and had always an empty purse before the next quarterly allowance became due. At length - on a snowy day, with a five dollar note in my pocket, and in fancy at least, rich as Cresus. I set off for Ben Jones little shop in Arch St. (I was afraid to go to the anti slavery office.) Ben had'nt the book, but he could get it for me. Off he went, cap and all, the memorable cap which was the occasion of such an effervescence at Nicholsons, and I waited - waited - waited. At length he returned, with the cap in one hand (the wind had blown it off his head), and two books in the other - one a brown cover, and the other a green one. First I chose the brown, then the green, and finally adhered to my first choice. I told him he need not wrap it up. I read it all along the street as I came home. As I approached our door I saw some company coming, who I knew would stay all day. Vexatious! thought I. So my wits prompted me to walk along very slowly and hold my umbrella down over my head until they were fairly into the house. Then I passed through the alley way, up into the house - and to my own room, unobserved. I shut the door, bolted it, and there, in midwinter, without a fire, read every poem in the [121]

book - I had to keep it all to myself - for as thy perception taught thee, J . G . W . and Anti Slavery were under the ban in those days. Tonight as it lies before me, a procession of figures seem to pass over it. E N , A E W , Lizzie Whittier, Ben Jones, the circle at Heally's and thyself, in brown. All scattered now, and perhaps every one of us, has been influenced in a greater or less degree by the sentiments contained in that little book. Perhaps every one of us has borne into the business, and trials, and tests of life some thought from its pages which has acted as a restraint from Evil, and an incentive to pursue some difficult but right course of action. Fame to thee, dear Greenleaf, has been slowly and late awarded - but better to come at last, in peacesheaves, than early, in the laurel crown, which is ever being tumbled on and off with the caprice of Popularity "Noble thoughts like thistle seed fall and breed From their heedless parents far Where fit soil and culture are." M y early enthusiasm for thy poetry has not subsided, but I trust I have in the lapse of events and years, come into possession of one good - the important truth, that it is our first duty to labor to some end; and thus purchase the liberty to indulge our private tastes and "carnal desires," as the poor cripple in the Newport Alms House, denominated his longing to own a copy of Baxters Saints Rest. [122]

B y the way didst thou ever hear of him? He was visited, not long ago, quite accidentally, by a quakeress Sister of Charity - Susan H. Loyd [sic]. She was not slow in making the discovery that he was a true child of God, and by recognizing him as such, and furnishing him with the means to write and read, she has elicited a history of his life, which is deeply touching and instructive. A great sufferer from Rheumatism sometimes unable to move his limbs at all, which have become contracted in consequence of the hardships and cruelty to which his boyhood was subjected - he yet sits in his comfortless abode, content and thankful - singing his own unworthiness, with praises of the Saviour's love, and discovering a deep heart knowledge of the Gospel plan, for man's restoration to the bosom of an offended God, which would put to shame the lip-Christianity of many a schooled theologian. I have been wanting to write to thee for a long time - but we have had rather a dispiriting Spring and Summer until within the past few weeks. Some domestic afflictions, and one dispensation of sickness after another have absorbed all m y energies, almost of body and mind. Hannah has suffered much from her back m y mother has been ill, and myself much of an invalid during the past three months. W e have all sought change of air during the summer, and are together again, benefitted and strengthed. It was delightful to sit down at table - all together last evening - after having come to our board in two's and three's for so long a time. [123 ]

I returned from Cape May ten days ago greatly invigorated. Having not much fancy for the place, I had anticipated going with little expectation of enjoyment, but found a great deal. There were a number of rather unusually agreeable persons at the House where we stayed, and the pleasure of being at the seaside, breathing the exhilirating atmosphere - bathing, walking and riding on the beach, was to me, perpetual. I never wearied of it. It is enjoyment enough, for a citizen who loves Nature, to live daily with prospect of such a magnificent sweep of Ocean as one gets at Cape May, and to be under Earth's boundless star spangled coverlet, without once thinking of the four corners which, in the city, brings over one such a smothering sensation of being tucked up. If I did not know that thou hast the same confidence towards thy friends who are friends, which I feel towards mine, even when visible proof of their continued interest and regard are lacking, I should apologize for sending thee now my acknowledgment for thy kind remembrance of me during the winter. The "Diary" and Engravings reached me in safety, and I am much obliged for both. I like the "Diary." Some parts of it are "beautiful exceedingly," and it contains original pictures and valuable, of the scenery, and manners of the time which will not let it die. Hast thou seen the "Maiden and Married life of Mary Powell"? It is a sweet thing. W h o is the author? That style is, I think admirably suited to express pure and [

12

4 ]

natural, and what some would call homely thoughts to ye limning of sweete domestic pictures, and of such dispositions and feelings as doe g r o w out of an intimacie with Nature, and Rural Life, and simple hearted, but in no wise vulgar people. Dear A E W has been of late much in need of true sympathy. Our own family circumstances have been such that I have seen less of her than I like. A f e w afternoons since, I spent an hour with her at Hamilton villa [>], and left her I think, a little brightened and cheered. Their business is still unsettled, and her mind is necessarily much in it. Friend Wendell is sad, and indeed a broken spirited man. Do write to her, even if thou hast "gotten to hate it." A f e w words from a warm hearted friend do fall so comfortably upon a bruised and oppressed spirit, and thy words are worth much to her. D o not write to me unless thou hast a live thought of me - then it will not be a task to put it upon paper. M y love please to Lizzie and your mother. Ε

23. Elizabeth

Lloyd Howell (November

21,

to the Whittiers 1853)

Whittier's letter to Mrs. Howell, printed by Marie V. Denervaud on page 12 of her Whittiers Unknown Romance, is assigned by her to the year 1855. The reference in that letter to the letter printed here as of "last winter" establ»s]

lishes the date of this letter as 1853, the year in which Mr. and Mrs. Howell were married. M y dear frds J G - & EHW. How very much I should enjoy having John G. & Lizzie Whittier with us for a while, said I this morning to my dearie, & he responded so cordially to the thought, that I feel as if I must convey it to you at once. We have a dear little home, in the old familiar part of 3d St, only half a square from mother, & thou dear Greenleaf, shall come in, & go out just as it suits thee, seeing us when thee wishes & having privacy when thou art in the mood for only thy own self. We have a pleasant Library room on the same floor with thy chamber, & I am certain we can make thee thoroughly at home. As for thee, Lizzie dear, I shall not give thee so much liberty, full intending to intrude upon thee whenever my important engagements leave me at leisure. Now do come. Dont let trifles hinder you. My husband is a man you will both soon love, & he & Greenleaf will find sympathies & congenialities in their common simplicity & truth of character, in their common hatred of oppression, in their common nobleness of soul, & I can promise you that you will find me the same EL J r that you knew of old. I will invite Ann E W to come & share thy room Lizzie dear, & then what can hinder us from living over again the good [126]

old times of Sixth St. Grace Greenwood is, I hear, in town, with her Leander, & I know plenty of delightful people whom we will soon cluster round you o'nights. Now let me have a letter directly saying you will come - & when. With Robert's love & that of your frd Ε Lloyd Howell. i i mo 21st. 128. S. 3d St.

24. Hannah Lloyd Neall to Whittier (January 4, 1858) {Extract) . . . Thee enquires about sister Lizzie - Ah! Greenleaf she is changed. Sorrow has wrecked her beauty they tell me. But a friend writes that "the influence of grief upon her has only made the character softer heart and intellect blend harmoniously, and she is noble, good and lovely" - Does it seem vain in me to praise this beloved one? I only know her thro' others now - for her eyes have been so blind with weeping that for two years, I have only heard once by letter from her - they are better now and she will write me oftener. I wish thee could go on to visit Philada - It would refresh thy friends there to see thee and I am sure it would do thee good notwithstanding the changes. Poor Margaret - widow, too is the desolate [M7]

title to her name. It is the saddest w o r d in the English tongue - I can dream o f none more mournful. . . 25. Whittier to Elizabeth Lloyd Howell (May 14,

1859)

This letter is now in an envelope addressed to Mrs. Howell, care of Dr. L. O. Gleason, Elmira, and there is every reason to suppose this to be the original envelope. Whittier's letter (beyond), of June 2, shows that Elizabeth was in Elmira in 1859, taking a "water cure"; thus the year assigned to this letter is established with sufficient certainty. It is postmarked New York, May 14, and since it is headed "Seventh day" and contains the words, "it is now 6 ock & in an hour I start for Ν. Y . , " it must be that Whittier mailed it on the same day for, in the year 1859, May 14 falls on Seventh Day (Saturday). Miss Denervaud, on page 17 of her Whittier s Unknown Romance, prints a letter from Whittier written on May 17, 1859, reporting his arrival home on the previous evening. Eliza Gumey (E. P. Gurney) mentioned is the widow of Joseph J . Gurney. She returned to this country after the death of her husband. Burlington Seventh day M'g. Dear Elizabeth, I did not leave Philad? on Third day. A n n Wendell came to HJN^s, and I staid until the next M ? I had a longing desire to see thee again, but I knew it w 4 be w r o n g to attempt it. I went to this place Fourth day

[128]

Μ?, attended meeting on Fifth day, & heard a beautiful discourse from H. Alderson. Eliza Gurney was silent, much to my disappointment. Rode out with her & spent the day, and had a very delightful visit. Ε Ρ Gurney spoke of thee with much affection and with a tenderness of sympathy, which really made me love her. W e have called on Dr Taylor, Η Alderson and the Smiths. Yesterday I was with thy dear Sister Ann. I only wished thou couldst have been with us. It is now 6 ock & in an hour I start for N . Y . on my way home. M y thoughts dear E. have been with thee, and if my prayers have not been availing in thy behalf they have been, at least, fervent. The sweet remembrance of our communion during the past three weeks, dwells with me - a dear & sacred possession. I am better and happier for it - rich beyond my hopes. God in His mercy dear E. keep, comfort, strengthen thee! I have no time to say more. Thou wilt hear from me from N . Y . or Boston. In the meantime ever Affectionately, J.G.W. 26. Whittier to Elizabeth Lloyd Howell (June 2, 1859) "Dr. Woeselheft of Brattleboro," is, correctly spelled, Dr. Robert Wesselhoeft. He and his older brother, William, came to this country, the latter in 1824, the former in [129]

1840, both political refugees from Germany. Robert, to whom Whittier refers, went to Philadelphia and took his degree of Doctor of Medicine from the University of Pennsylvania, in 1841; he was a pioneer in the practice of hydrotherapy in America, and established a water cure in Bratdeboro, Vermont. He espoused the cause of homeopathy and wrote a reply to Oliver Wendell Holmes's Homoeopathy and Its Kindred Delusions. This information has been furnished by Dr. Wesselhoeft's grandson, Dr. Conrad Wesselhoeft, who tells more about these brothers in The Hahnemannian Monthly for December, 1935. "Charlie," mentioned near the end of this letter is none other than Whittier's pet parrot, described by Pickard on page 515 of his Life and Letters of Whittier. Amesbury mo 1859 Dear Elizabeth I read last night thy welcome letter with its vivid description of thy new home. It is one of the compensations mercifully provided for the minor miseries of life, that we can look back upon them, & find amusement in all our by-gone perplexities & disappointments. In this way thy sad, first night's experience may be worth something to thee. I am glad thee finds favor with Pat, as an offset to Zipporah. Not but that I quite agree with the latter in her democratic notions of equality, although I dare say I might be tempted to make an exception of thy case, for radical as I am, I think I can see a difference between liking every body in the abstract and loving somebody in the concrete. But, in point of fact, Zip [130]

is right. I respect her sturdy democracy, and admire her pertinacious adherence to principle, against the wrath of thy friend Kimber, and thy still harder-to-beresisted mute appeal for special favor. She must be an extraordinary woman. Thy description of the "women-kind" in the parlor of yr establishment alarms me. Will Zipporah, with the decision of her ancient namesake, make thee like unto them? Will she cut thy hair off? Will she put thee in Bloomers? Instead of writing to my old friend, with her sweet Quaker proprieties, shall I have to address myself to one of the strong-minded, discoursing at the breakfast-table on dietetics and physiology? Must everything suffer a water-change? And, just now it occurs to me that good old Dr Woeselheft of Brattleboro had a theory of the water-cure that it consisted in the entire washing away of the "old man" of the flesh, and substituting a new one altogether? If this be true, in what shape will thee emerge from Elmira? How shall we identify the butterfly in bloomers with the chrysalis in skirts? I give thee fair warning. If thee comes out of Dr. Gleason's laboratory transmuted and metamorphosed into anything more or less than the identical Lizzie Lloyd of old times, I for one, am not going to like thee at all. Red republican as I am, I am terribly conservative in that respect. I think I understand, now, thy whereabouts, & home-fixings. Thy room I am sure is a very pleasant one, and I can imagine how the sunset glorifies thy mountain pictures. By the way, in New York I went [i3i]

with Beecher (HW.) to see Church's great painting " T h e Heart of the Andes." Imagine a table-land seven thousand feet above the sea, rich with vegetation with blue glimpses of a lake, through tropical greenness. Far away beyond rises, dark & vast, a huge mountain range, and beyond all, through a gorge in the near mountains, you see cold, strange splendors of snow & ice, and you follow up - up, into the very heart of the heavens, the "motionless torrents & silent cataracts." - White, cold, terribly beautiful, the ghost of a mountain! Above all is the wonderful transparence of sky and the clouds raking the splintered summits, are like perfect photographs f r o m Nature, rather than pencil imitations. It is a great picture, & I am glad to hang it up in m y m e m o r y as a j o y forever. From what thee says I think it will be quite safe for thee to trust thyself to the worthy Dr's discretion. O f course, as thy friend Pat w4 say, he will have his cold water warm until thee can bear the ice-cold liquid f r o m the N o r t h side of the pump. It is best to take things as comfortably as we can, and if one has to go a pilgrimage with peas in the shoes, it is safer to have them boiled. A degree of stoicism is, however, at times, necessary. I sent thee today Dana's " C u b a " - the new book which is so popular in Boston. Get somebody to read it to thee. I k n o w it is good although I have not read it. I have just finished planting m y potatoes &c rather late, but, if there is not a crop I shall hold thee partly responsible. I need not tell thee, dear E., h o w glad I am to get a line f r o m thee. Have had some in[i3>]

teresting pilgrims here - & some I could have done without. W e are now all alone - only Charlie and the girl, but the next train may bring somebody, as the weather is so fine. Do get into the air as much as possible. I live out of doors now, when I am not driven in by the headache. I suppose thou hast heard of the death of my old & dear fd Jos Sturge. It is a great loss to his family - to our religious Society & to the world. He lived very closely to the Divine Pattern - a life of eminently practical righteousness. So they pass - one after another - and we are spared yet a litde longer. - May God enable us to so live that death may be a glad surprise! The mail is just closing - The dear Lord have thee in his keeping always! Aff"J.G.W. 27. Whittier to Elizabeth Lloyd (July 25,

Howell

1859)

The "tribute" to which Whittier refers is his poem, "In Remembrance of Joseph Sturge," which appeared in the New York Independent of July 21, 1859. Amesbury 25 th 7 t h Mo 1859 Dear Ε Thy welcome letter has reached me. I am glad to know that thy sister is to visit thee. Thee do not say what Dr N . thought of the water treatment. [133]

I think the saddest part of life is to see things going wrong within us & without us, & yet feel unable to right them. The inability to do\ Yet this painful solicitude has its uses & compensations. Did thee ever think what a dull place Heaven must be if the popluar notion of it is correct. A state of sheer spiritual laziness - nothing to do because everything is done - nobody to help - nobody to pity - nobody to pray for - no employment but to sing hymns ! I inclose a tribute to the memory of the best man I ever knew. I don't think I have said too much, but, I fancy I hear him say: " N o - no, John; I am nothing but a living testimony to the mercy & compassion of God." W e have had gloriously bright summer weather for two weeks - To day the rain is falling - quietly & thunderless - a sweet & unalloyed blessing. Excuse me, dear fd, for speaking of my little troubles & vexations. I know thou hast enough of thy own without any addition from others. If I were a stronger man & a better Christian, I should not let them disturb even myself. As it is, I feel sure that somehow all will be well - & my confidence in the Divine Goodness is unshaken. Come what may let us trust in that. At times, I feel all that I have expressed in "My Psalm" in the Atlantic Monthly. I have so much to be thankful for that I ought always to feel so, but the spirit is willing often when the flesh is weak. Do you have any pond Mies at Elmira? - Here, our little lakes are white and sweet with them. I wish I [134]

could send thee a fine cluster of them fresh from the water. They recall Tennyson's verse, "White lillies of eternal peace Whose odors haunt my dreams." M y little sheet is full. Ever & affectionately J.G.W.

28. Elizabeth Lloyd Howell to Whittier (September 13, i860) The "new volume" which Elizabeth received from Whittier was his Home Ballads and Poems, which Whittier was distributing to his friends in the summer of i860, although not put on sale until early fall. It contains the poems "The Witch's Daughter," " M y Playmate," and "Trinitas," mentioned in the letter. Princeton Sept. 13 th Dear Greenleaf I was particularly glad to receive thy new volume yesterday, - a rainy day - & not a bright one to me in any sense, for I was sick with a cold, and had exhausted m y medicines - in the w a y of books. " M y Playmate" is as beautiful as "Evangeline" - & " T h e Witch's Daughter" has the sweetness & noble simplicity of the immortal love-story of Ruth. I like "Trinitas" very much; was it ever in print before? [135]

Thee has a large number of admirers here, so it will do good to others as well as to me. I think the best of all thy Poems of nowadays are Ballads. "Maud Müller" is an exquisite thing. Did I tell thee we had it in Tableaux up here? Thee should have seen it. I shall be left almost alone for a week or ten days. There is to be quite a break up on the 15th but I so much enjoy the country in autumn, that I shall want no other society for the short time of my stay. I fell into talk the other evening with a Mrs. Whipple who is here for a few days. I found she knew thee, & that we had other frds in common. She is a charming person. Her husband is I believe Whipple of the N . A . Rev. She expects him tomorrow, to stay over First Day & when they go, I believe there will be nobody, but the children & the pigs & chickens, & I. W m Spooner was here last week, hoping to bring his wife - but he wrote, after engaging rooms, that she was unable to undertake the journey. I fear she is on her way to the other side of the River of Life. W m . S. is one of the best of men - Father Howell esteemed him very highly. I must hope that his wife may be spared to him yet a litde longer. I have just got "Hood's Memoirs" - but am not far in his life - only just far enough to have found that the head ofthat wonderful spring of pathos in his nature lay deep in a heart as true & warm as ever beat. H o w he loved his wife. What a father he was! Surely he must be where the recompense of suffering is great & full & enduring. (136]

We have had the "Mumps" here - almost every body sick. I was too sorry I had to tell Han - for I know it kept her away - I should have gone to Lynn while she was there - but for various messages which I rec'd, all saying she was coming. I A Chase I like very much - I may - but 'tis uncertain - pass a day with her on my way home. Lucy is away - I have not seen her since we climbed Wachusett together. Affectionately, ELH.

29. Elizabeth Lloyd Howell to Whittier (.November 14, i860) Home Nov 14th. Dear Greenleaf, It is so long since I have heard from thee that I am afraid thy illness has been more serious than usual. Send me a line - if thee can write at all, & tell me how thee is. If thee is pressed or troubled let me know, for sometimes "speaking is relief." And I need not reassure thee that my sympathy is always alive for thy needs. I begin to think thee did not get my last note from Princeton - first - because it required an answer, & secondly because thee ought to want to know something about me. Then I fall back upon the fear that h37]

thee is ill & unable to write. So it would be a great relief to hear from thee — good or evil, whatever may have befallen thee We are all well & have had several heart-warming reunions, at Mother's & in 3d St. It is delightful to be at home again in the midst of kind frds & loving kindred. I cannot write much, for my eyes are very painful Affectionately ELH. 30. Whittier to Elizabeth Lloyd Howell (November 22, i860) Amesbury 22 d 1 1 t h Mo. i860

Dear Eliz0? I have been hoping every day since I recd thy kind note, that I should be able to answer it, cheerfully & in the genial manner it deserves, but I must not any longer delay my thanks for it, although too ill to be anything but a sorry correspondent. I was called to Portland some four weeks ago, in reference to my brother's family, & what, with mental anxiety & fatigue & exposure, I came home very ill, & have suffered greatly since. The unsettled weather, vacillating between autumn & winter, had something to do with it. Even the severe cold of our climate will be better than the changes, & I hope to be able soon to give a better account of myself. I have not been able to

[138]

answer half m y letters for the last month, & I cannot read much, so that I am of not much use anyhow, &, as thee may suppose, I put very cheap estimate upon myself. I am very grateful for thy kind inquiries, but, I do not think I ought to take advantage of thy generous offer to listen to m y complaints. I have made too many already; I w h o ought to be able to speak words of cheer & comfort to those I love. I am vexed with myself for m y lack of manly firmness, patience, & endurance. I have trials & perplexities, which at times very painfully affect m y extremely sensitive nervous organization: but I have much to be thankful for, and I enjoy any gleam of sunshine that reaches me, and the love & sympathy of m y friends, is a constant joy, notwithstanding a consciousness that I am not quite worthy of it. M y sister is more feeble this fall than she has ever been. I have to be the cheerful one of the household, but it is a poor make-believe sometimes. W h a t an excitement arises at the South f r o m the election of Lincoln! I cannot bring myself to look upon it as really in earnest. Lincoln is a very conservative, cautious & moderate man; and will do nothing rash or illegal. If South Carolina dissolves the Union on so flimsey a pretext, she will not carry anybody else with her. God grant that this awful question of Slavery may have a peaceful solution! It is perhaps too much to expect that so great a w r o n g should pass away without [139]

convulsing the nation which has so long cherished it. I wrote to Hannah a line not long ago. We heard by the way of Newburyport that she thought of leaving for home this fall, but it seems it was a mistake. Has thee seen Dr Palmer's famous Book of "Folk Songs"? It is said to be the finest thing of the kind ever published. Does thee read Dr. Holmes' story? - It fascinates & repels me, like the evil influence of the snake it describes. This week is our festival of Thanksgiving. It is a beautiful institution, gathering under the old roof-tree the scattered & divided families. It will be a lonely one to us, as we are not likely to have any of our own family with us. But, I know we shall nevertheless, have much to be thankful for to the Giver of all good gifts. You have, I believe, a similar festival in Pennsylvania; it is one of our "Yankee notions" which is worth borrowing, and I wish I could enjoy it with you. Ever & affectionately c λ y

T h

y

f r d

J.G.W.

31Whittier to Elizabeth Lloyd Howell (March 24,

1861) Amesbury 24 th 3 d Mo

M y dear friend, I ought to have written thee before this time: I felt to do it - but illness, & the feeling of responsibility which rested upon me, as respects the condition of the [ 140]

country, as an anti-slavery man, must be my apology. I have had a heavy load of correspondence to attend to, with my friends at Washington. Thee knows I suppose that our dear Sister Mary died last Is.'. mo. after an illness of about a fortnight. To Ε & myself this was a very great sorrow. - We are left alone, and the cloud which rested upon poor E. is heavier now & darker, from the shadow of this new affliction. For myself, I have been confined at home most of the time for three months past, but for the last two weeks I have been better. I long for spring - for the sounds of brooks & birds, but winter still holds us fast, & we are deep under snow. And thou art going so soon! I cannot let thee go without telling thee how very grateful & pleasant thy visit was to us - how very sweet the memory of it remains, & will always. For somehow, it was a communion of heart & spirit - the solemn grandeurs & glories of the other life seemed to open before us as we talked. God grant that we may be the better for that meeting! We surely ought to be. Thy pain of parting will have our deepest sympathy. But, I know that the dear Mother & sisters will need it even more than thyself. I cannot write a long letter today; I can only say Farewell, dear friend - the blessing of our Heavenly Father be with thee! It is strange - but it seems as if I should yet see thee in this life! God knows! But, my prayer is that we may be permitted to meet, if not here, in the better hereafter. [The signature has been cut out.] ['41]

Elizth wishes her loving remembrance of thee to be mentioned. She would write if she felt able. A m glad thee wrote Dr. Holmes. I know he was glad of it. I hope California is not going out of the Union. W e should be sorry to regard thee as a foreigner.

32. Elizabeth Lloyd Howell to Whittier (September 19, 1861?) Samuel T. Pickard, in a pencilled note explaining this letter (Pickard-Whittier papers, Harvard College Library), states that it was written in 1862 and that the "fine descriptive lines" mentioned are none other than the poem "Monadnock from Wachuset." In this case the date 1861 is better for the letter than 1862, since the poem was printed in the Atlantic Monthly for April, 1862, and it is not likely that Mrs. Howell would have waited until the following September before sending her thanks. Assuming that Mr. Pickard is correct in connecting this poem and this letter, it is probable that Whittier's visit to Princeton was in the summer of 1861, and that he wrote the poem in that year, sending a copy to Mrs. Howell in September, and, later, giving it to the Atlantic Monthly. It has long been the tradition that the "fitting guide" mentioned in the first lines of the poem was Elizabeth Lloyd Howell; Thomas Wentworth Higginson, in his life of Whittier says she "unquestionably" was the person, and Pickard adds his authority in the Notes and Queries column of the Boston Evening Transcript of October 14, 1905. [142]

Dear Greenleaf I have had thy fine descriptive lines out in the woods this morning - & they seemed to derive a new beauty from the soft odorous airs - after rain. Many thanks for them - they will commemorate always the beautiful hour we passed together that still Sabbath evening. I was glad of thy note too - I should have written a line in answer before now - but for having many letters on hand which must be answered - some of them from my servants & business people. Did thee ever know so balmy an Autumn? The air here has been as soft as Newport - with that indefinite sort of atmosphere which subdues all sharpness & ruggedness into grace & undulation. The pale purple lights on the hills have been exquisite, seen thro the openings on our wooded drives &the sun has rested from shining during the dayin order to bring out his glorious wealth of color at setting. I am busy packing - & expect to leave here tomorrow for Worcester. I am obliged to be at home on the evening of the 27th - so our visit to Boston will be very circumscribed. We shall go down, or up, which is it? on 4th day morning. Shall be happy to see the 'Fields' if they call - but we must take the afternoon train to Salem spend the next day with Lydia Chase - & return on 6th day - so as to leave me a little time to pack & rest for an early getting off on the following morning. [143]

Why can thee not come to Boston, & go to Salem with us? I wish thee would. Affectionately ELH Princeton Sept 19th. Does thee observe my writing is as bad as thine ?

33· Elizabeth Lloyd Howell to Whittier (.1866) Dear Greenleaf I reproach myself that I have not, before now, snatched a moment to thank thee for thy kind remembrance & gift of "Snowbound." I had enjoyed it when I first saw it - some weeks ago - but more for the second & third reading. As the world grows older & we grow older — nothing seems to me so great - as what is perfectly true & simple - & I love to get back the sweet air & pure breath of childhood - Its energy & faith are always refreshing. I have been very sick - & close upon my illness followed that of my dear old faithful cook - Henrietta. Thee remembers her. She had a painless illness of three weeks - then slumbered out of life - as peacefully as a child falls asleep to wake - I am sure, to the sound of - "Well done good & faithful servant." We buried[ her ! 4 4 yesterday. ]

Good old soul - what will she do with herself in that other life without muffins to bake & chickens to barbecue. As I am sure she would be miserable anywhere out of sight of gridirons & frying pans - I comfort myself with the thought that there must be a corner fenced off in the "new heaven & the new earth" where she can perform in the great "Mystery" of cooking. Do write & tell me what thee is about - & who is taking care of thee. The door seems to be opened - (only a crack though) for my long projected plan of going abroad. The glimpses I get of what is beyond - rather unsettle me, but I want to wait for the right time & a clear path. As ever thy frd ELH Dear mother still stays with us - full of love & heavenly sweetness - Sis is well & we get nice rich letters from Han.

34Elizabeth Lloyd Howell to Whittier (After

1866)

London March 27th Dear Greenleaf Thy letter is at hand containing the photo - not good but it was kind to send it. [145]

I rather anticipated the "ultimatum" - in relation to my Poem - & had I thought more about it - would have saved thy eyes the trouble of going over it - & can only now thank thee for thy friendly service - not the less because it was unavailing. It is quite too long for a monthly periodical. So I will ask thee to take a little more trouble - & return it to me by mail. I am sorry thee has decided to be such a very ancient man. M y dear mother never liked any allusions to her years - & always insisted upon it that she was not old - & never expected to be. And she never was - She perfectly fulfilled her being's end & aimed to be lovely & beautiful - always - & to the end of life. I inherit - a good deal of her temperamental nature & warmth - & love & enjoyment & many good things come in to me - making me very thankful to live - even in my lonely lot. It is delightful to me to be here - I have a charming circle of English friends - good, intellectual & living true lives in the midst of the world & every elegance & refinement that wealth & culture, supposes. It is a high privilege - to be in the way of learning One sees so many people who dwindle & repeat themselves - for want of making a little effort to get into the realms of attrition & movement that I appreciate more & more, an enlarged horizon. Please excuse me for troubling thee with my matters & scribbling as well. Very sincerely Ε L Howell. [146]