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Could Starr King have been given the privilege of selecting his poet-laureate we may be sure he would have named Whittier. For they were both lovers of nature and of man. Both earnest abolitionists, intensely patriotic, loving liberty and the rights of the humblest of God's creatures, they were kindred spirits.
At that time Motley was writing his "History of the Netherlands"; Prescott, his "History of Mexico and Spain"; Whittier, his songs of slavery and freedom; Lowell was the satirist of the debate, and was writing his "Biglow Papers," and Emerson, the philosopher, was undermining the foundations and shaking the principles of slavery, even as Samson pulled down the temple of the olden time.
We'll know what that means, and if anybody comes in the course of time, I'll warrant he'll soon find out which Whittier it means." This was Oscar's view of the case. "Good for you, Oscar!" said his uncle. "Whittier let it be."
"Every writer's style is his own it may be smooth or rough, plain or obscure, simple or grand, feeble or strong," he contends, "but principles are immutable." By his principles, therefore he would, be judged. "Whittier, for instance," he continues, "is highly poetical, exuberant, and beautiful. Stuart is solemn, pungent, and severe.
Now I must say, good-bye. From your loving little friend, HELEN A. KELLER. To Mr. John Greenleaf Whittier. Whittier's reply, to which there is a reference in the following letter, has been lost. TO MRS. KATE ADAMS KELLER South Boston, Mass., Dec. 3, 1889. My Dear Mother: Your little daughter is very happy to write to you this beautiful morning. It is cold and rainy here to-day.
Garrison himself termed the Constitution "a covenant with death and an agreement with hell." Lydia Maria Child in 1833 published an Appeal in Favor of That Class of Americans Called Africans, and wrote or edited numerous other books for the cause, while the anti-slavery poems of Whittier are now a part of the main stream of American literature.
Five or six of the best: you want Longfellow and Bryant and Whittier and Holmes and Emerson and Lowell." The girl listened attentively, as if making mental note of the names. "And Shakespeare," she added. "Don't you like Shakespeare's plays?" "Oh yes, very much." "I used to be perfectly crazy about his plays. Don't you think 'Hamlet' is splendid? We had ever so much about Shakespeare.
I could not go to this iconoclastic extreme with the electrotypes of the magazine, but I could return the proofs. I did so, feeling that I had done my possible, and silently grieving that there could be such ire in heavenly minds. Emerson, as I say, I had once met in Cambridge, but Whittier never; and I have a feeling that poet as Cambridge felt him to be, she had her reservations concerning him.
"And where is she now, Pintal?" No anger now, no flush of excitement; the man, all softened as by an angel's touch, arose, and, with clasped hands and eyes upturned devoutly, smiled through big tears, and without a word answered me. I, too, was silent. Whittier had not yet written, "Of all sad words of tongue or pen The saddest are these: 'It might have been!
Carol was exceeding sick. Her herald from the outside was Erik Valborg, "Elizabeth." Apprentice tailor! Gasoline and hot goose! Mending dirty jackets! Respectfully holding a tape-measure about a paunch! And yet, she insisted, this boy was also himself. They had Sunday dinner with the Smails, in a dining-room which centered about a fruit and flower piece and a crayon-enlargement of Uncle Whittier.
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