The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1889-07-08
AN AFTERNOON WITH WHITTIER.
What the Good Quaker Poet Says
About the Literature Of Our own
Times and of the Lat Generation.

| NEW YORK, July G-I shall never forge
that afternoon last autumn, when the year
was nearing its close, when il was nay good
/ fortune to pass several hours with the old
! Quaker poet, John Greenleaf Whittier, at
/ his home, Oak Knoll, Danvers Since the
| marriage Of favorite niece, who had for
many years, kept the Amesbury home for
him. Mr.. Whittier has been wont to make
his home with some cousins of his residing
at Oak Knoll, Danvers, and here l found
him on the occasion in question. 1t is
pleasant old mansion in which Mr.. Whit
tier dwells, standing back some distance
from the street, and surrounded with lovely
old trees; place restful indeed, and full Of
domestic happiness su h as one of Mr..
/ Winters simple states must thoroughly en-
joy.
The old poet received me in that simple,
| cordial manner so characteristic Of him,
and inviting me into his little study, or Ii
| brary, babe me be seated IN a cosy rocking
| chair, which he extended TO me, and taking
a seat at my side he proceeded to ask me
| how far | mad come, aud where my home
was
| Mr. Whittier is tall man, at least six
| feet In hight, and, though more than 81
| years OF age. his eve Is still bright and his
step elastic. His face wears a quiet,
| thoughtful expression, and his voice Is SIN
| gularly sweet and musical His dress Is the
plain, conventional garb of the Quaker-a
dark, high-buttoned vest, the coat the
black cut-away. with only the fainteSt sug-
| geStiOn Of velvet upon the collar and the
| facing of the small ear-shaped lapels.
| with the exception of mustache, the poet
wears full beard, not particularly long or
heavy, and like his hair, is very gray l
| found Mr. Whittier exceedingly converse
| tional, but disposed to be careful respecting
| his language and comments on various sub
! jects. At suggestion of mine, the old
! gentleman was easily lead into an atmoS-
! phere of delightful recollectlons OF the
| past, concerning prominent literary men
with whom he had been associated init
mately. He first spoke of Longfellow, say
| ing: "LongfellOw was dear friend Of mine.
| | think he was the most delightful person
| whom | ever met, ard Pm sure he was a
| great poet The last time he came over to
! AmeSbury to see me. Charles Sumner
another warm friend of mine-came with
| him. During the last few years of his life we
rarely met A little while before he died
he wrote asking me to come and see
| him. 1t was not convenient for me to go
at the time. but soon after | got his letter l
went down to Cambridge But | was too
late; when | reached his home he was too
far gone to see anybody, and few days
later, passed away. Longfellow, Emerson,
! Hawthorne and | were very warm triends.
Each of us took great pride in the others
| work We we're i'll the habit of exchanging
notes upon what we had written, and If
| one happened to run across a pleasant no.
tlce about the other, it was cut out of the
pa per and sent to him"
"What is your estimate of Hawthorne,
Mr.. Wnlttier!n | asked.
"Oh, Hawthorne, it seems to me, is one of
| the few great masters of the English Ian
| guage. | think he was superior to even
Addison. l never heard of one who could
build such lovely stories in language sucn
| as the humblest person could underStau d.
| But hawthorne was unlike most men, he
was SO sad and shy. Yet | could under
stand his nature, though most people could
not. Emerson was not merely a great
writer, but a profound thinker and phIloSo-
pher. We were good deal together dur
| ing our lifetime; often visited one another.
l think Emerson has written nothing that
| will not live. He always wrote with pains
taking care, and would revise his manu-
script in such a way that it was always all
solutely perfect. He would often consult
with me and his other friends concerning
his work before it was sent forth into the
world. He always sought the advice and
experience of others so that il this way his
| productions were as perfect as a mortal
fellow were also very pain taking in every
thing they wrote, though Hawthorne from
the reserved e's of his emperamenI seldom
went to anybody for suggestion. l was
| never like the others | never had any par
ticular system in anything | ever did.
always wrote when | lett like it-never
when did not-and never had patience
| enough TO work over anything after | had
once written it. | have lived in the main a
| ROT wit nratf fnsFxy fri dc fovs
sociates, and have never had energy enough
| to 60 to anyone r advice in anything have
written. have always written for the plea ).
| ure 1t gave me, and have never p blished
anything without feeling a sense of timld-
ness about it. When | look back over my
work wolder how have any such thing
as literary reputation"
what are your favorite poems, Mr.
Whittier, among your own writlngSp
"Why, 1 don't know that have any. II
fact good deal of what l have written
wish was buried out of sight and memory.
Yet do not wonder that | feel SO about
much of my work In my youthful years
had very few advantages My education
was exceedingly limited, and few books
could be procured to read or study. When
l commenced to write | really knew moth.
ing of the woodland to this day have
never been in any sense a traveller. The
AL thtSG udfG GF61 D5S-l dWUy 1IOLu nome
is Washington, and that was only on oae
occasion many years ago-long before the
war-whe.l | was temporary resident of
Philadelphia. never enjoyed travelling as
most people do, and | think En- rson felt "a
good deal the same way, for ne seldom went
away from home. In my fathers hous
when was boy, there woe not pro ably
more than a dozen books, and all were of a
peculia: type, or at least would be consd-
! n ia -,
the limo OhpOetry was rhymed history of
| King David, the WORK of contemporary of
George Cox, the Quaker. There was now
| el-a pretty poor one, how5ver-and it be-
longed TO an aunt of mine. l happened to
get hold of it one day, but after had read
| 1t nearly through | was found out and the
book was taken from me and hidden NV
first look into volume of real poetry was
| when my old schOolmaster one day bro ught
a copy of Burns into the house. He read
aloud {. ON It aud leftlt with me to read at
ny leisure. That copy OF Burns had all to
do III shaping my taste and love for poetry,
and waatever success | have had in life is
due to the Scottish bard
Referring to Lolgfellow again I asked
Mr.. Whittier if he considered him as great
u poet as Tennyson.
II regard Longfellow as fully the equal
of Tennyson," he replied. "In fact | am
inclined to believe Tennyson has never
written anyth ng surprising the produc-
tions of our best American poets. And to-
| day Longtellow is more popular in Engla ID