Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1892-09-08
THE POETS LIFE.
Tho Modest and Simple story Told by
Himself Some Years Ago.

Tho Modest and simple story Told by
Himself Some Years Ago.
And while In lifes late afternoon.
Where oool and long the shade grow,
walk to meet the night that coon
Shall shape and shadow Overflow.
cannot feel that thou art far,
Since near at hand the angels are;
And when the sunset gates unbar,
Shall not see thee waiting stand,
And white against the evening star,
The welcome OF thy beckoning rand.
-sinow-Bound.
Tho story Of Mr.. whittior's life Is very
brief and very simple one. He was born In
the beautiful Merrimac valley i've miles out
from the market town of Haverhin, Mass,
Dec. Z, la0T. At his primatiye homestead all
things wero elementary and Of the plainest
cast. Both his parents were Quakers, and his
ancestors on both sides had belonged to the So
ciety of Friends for many generations. John
Whittier. the father Of the poet. is described
by citizens Of Haverhil as having been
rough, but upright, kind-hearted farmer.
His neiehbors gave him the nickname Quaker
Whycher." Ho seems to have been u sturdy,
decided person, and deeply religious.
Apropos Of his boyhood, we are told that
Whittier, even when little lad, was always
writing verses instead of doing sums on hts
slate In school. The reading material that
came into his fathers house consisted OF the
almanac and the weekly village newspaper,
with perhaps score of books and pamphlets,
among tlt1n DnQley ana
Ellwood's "Davdeis, or tho Life of David,
King of Israel" There was
Nothing to Learn Of the Outer World
except from the eccentric and often pic
turesque stroller, who In those days peddled.
sang or fiddled from village 20 village. Yet
the boys poetic fancy and native sense OF
rhvthm apparently we're not inert. lie listened
eagerly TO the provincial traditions and
legends-a genuine folklore recounted by bis
.al1 ~ ha fraa nd ha Iaoap IN f,itfh
thought In numbers at the earliest age.
OF his early literary aspirations and the
events which moulded his thoughts and
guided his pen in after years, no better ac-
count can be given than the story told by him.
self some years ago:
muster. Joshua Coffin, the able, eccentric his
torian Of Newbury, brought with him TO our
house volume of Burns poems, from which
ne read, greatly TO my delight. ! begged him
TO leave the book with me, and set myself at
once TO the task of mastering the glossary Of
the Scotch dialect at its close. This was about
the first poetry had ever read-with the ox-
ception Of that of the Bible, of which had
been a close student-and 1t had lasting in
fluence upon me. / began 20 make rhymes
myself, and TO imagine stories and adventures,
In fact,
Lived q Sort OF Dual Life
and in world Of fancy. as well as in the
world OF plain matter-of-fact about me.
"Soon after Garrison came 20 our farmhouse,
and was called in from hoeing In the corn
field TO see him. He encouraged me, and
urged my father TO send me 10 school longed
for education, but the means TO procure IL
wero wanting. Luckily. the young man who
worked for us on the farm sked out his small in
come by making ladies' shoes and slippers 10 the
winter; and learned enough of him to earn
sum sufficient 30 carry me through term Of
six months in the Haverhill academy. The
noxt winter ventursd upon
Another Expedient for Raising Money,
and kopt district school In the adjoining
town of Amesbury, thereby enabling me TO
have another academy term.
MY father always had a weekly newspaper,
and when young Garrison started his Free
Press at Newburyport, he took IL In place of
tho Haverhill Gazette. My sister. who was two
years older than myself. sent one OF my poeti-
cal attempts 10 the editor Some weeks after
ward tho newscarrier came along on horse
back and threw tho paper out from his saddle
bags. My uncle and were mending fences.
! took up the shoet, and was surprised and
overjoyed 70 500 my lines in the poets
corner stood casing at them In wonder.
and my unole had 10 call me several times 10
my work before I could recover myself
Tho next winter spent in Boston, writing
for a paper. Returning in the spring, while
~ work on the farm, WAS surprised by an
Invitation 10 tako charge of the Hartford Re-
view, In tho place OF the famous George ID.
Prentice, who had removed 10 Kentucky. I
had sent him some of my school compost
tions,' which he had received favOrably. I
was unwilling TO lose the chance OF doing
something moro In accordance with my taste,
and, though felt my unhtness for the place.
accepted Il. and remained nearly two years,
whom was called home by the sickness of my
fathev, who died soon after. / then took
charge Of the farm and worked hard TO make
both ends meet and. aided by my mothers
and sister's thrift and economy. In some
fneasurs succeeded.
"As member Of the Society OF Friends.
had been educated 20 regard slavery a great
and dangerous evil. and my sympathies were
strongly enlisted for the oppressed slaves by
my intimate acquaintance with William
Lloyd Garrison. When the latter started hts
paper in Vermont In is2s. wrote him a letter
comric ndlng his views upon slavery, intem-
psrancc and war. AM surine him that be
vas destined 10 DO great things In 1879 was
n adeiesate 10 The hrst national antl--avery
.convcntion a. Phiiadsirhia I Wa one of the
secrcsayies % the convention and signed its
decisration. In 1875 ] vss IN the Msssaohu-
,7a-tfs legislature. was
Mobbed In Concord, ". n,
IN company with George Thompson. after-
ward member of the British parliament and
narrowly escsped from great danger. keDt