The Helena independent. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1875-1943, 1892-09-08

at Hartford, Conn. In 1881, after years
service In the interest Of that periodical. he
returned to Haverhill and agriculture. The
period of his life he repre- sented the place
Of his residence In the state legislature.
His activity in the agitation against
pointment as secretary of the Am
stioan Anti. Slavery society. This nec-
Sa,. his ss%o1. Va ta to tha Psnn
sylvania F'eemsn. A mob burnt the Office
of this paper. Tue occurrence stimulated
and strengthened Mr.. Whlttier's anti
slavery convictions. He hai begun the
| composition Of verso in 1928. Both his
prose and poetry were effective to the in
! crease of feeling against the institution of
slavery. The poet removed to Amesbury,
Mass. in 184O then. az always. a bachelor.
A few years ago the marriage and removal
of his niece. who had been his housekeel or,
influenced him to make his permanent
home with some relatives at Danvers. He
Shoals, in the New Hampshire Mountains,
and his old home in Amssoury. His resi-
denas is large. plain and old-fashioned, but
not wanting in dignity. It is secluded aud
screened by noble trees. The poet was we'll
preserved. His figure was tall and straight.
hair glossy silver, but his black eyes were
clear, black and piercing. His dress pos
sssssd the Quaker simplicity.
Some sixty years ago good old Quaker
doctor said to tall. frail looking young
man. "Greenleaf, thee must take osre Of
thyself'' To the young mans friends the
old doctor said, "Grsenlsaf is not long for
this world. He will never pass his forties!'
The old Quaker doctor has been dust
those fifty years. Even his winsoms
daughter, she of tho dancing eyes. has
stumbled in her dotaQe and fallen into an
old woman's grave. Hawthorne, Bryant.
Emerson. Lonefsllow. Lowel!-ali in their
said poor Whittier could not last much
longer. They are all gone. yet White:
remained tall. frail looking, almost IS.
Nor was tho good old Quaker doctor right
even in snpposing that Whittier must take
care of himself. That has been done for
avoided those various intemperancss which
kill, but in doing this he had merely drifted
ON the current of his own desire. He had
never had to deny himself any of the dan
Rerous luxuries. because he mover wished
for any of them. And as for the necessities
of life, the ravens have fed and covered and
gene ally looked out for him.
While he WAS hoeinR in his fathers field,
where he might have hosd his frail young
life away, his sister chsnced to find a poem
he had slyly written. she was a raven, 80
she few away with IL to Garrison's news
In few days the yeung poet was shocked
ut seeing bis verses in print. The poom OK
cited 30 much favorable oomment that the
frightened boy pleaded with his sister not
to reveal the eathorship. But she was
raven, and girl, and . glad sister. 80, of
oourse. she could not keep the seo'et Then
Garrison. the grsat Garrison. ssms to sac
the blushing. barefoot boy, and caught him
digging potatoes. Ga rison, too. WAS n
raven-a big strong raven, as big Ms the
bird that hsw off with Sinbad-and he
snatched that trembling boy out of the po-
tato patch and bore him away to school
wherein, whether he would no. he was to
lea, how to spell great words. such AZ
Capital F-r-double-e, Free. dom, dom,
Freedom"
So John Gresnleaf Whistler was flung. in
spite Of his own remonstranos, into the
place designed for him; and, being there he
glorified his name without knowing how he
did il. When l asked him, nos long ago.
how he had written his poems-what method
he had employed-he smiled and said:
II don't know. have no method. I
never had any"
He made good boots, he made good po-
etry, and he made them both with the hope
that they would do somebody some good.
Whether they would do him good. whether
he would be paid for them. did not seem 10
enter his mind. Somohow--he never knew
how and he never cared how. but somehow
bread enough found its way to his hands,
and he ate it and was glad. He had no lit
tie troubles Of his own. All his troubles
were great troubles and always other peo-
pies troubles. This WAS his life from first
to last. He was never taken care of him
self. He took care Of others and others
took care Of him.
For more than twenty five years he was
hated by ons-half his fellow count, ynlen
and jeersd at by alm0st the other half. His
name at the head OF . poem Was ~ . nnger
post pointing toward the waste basket. But
ordained work aud the ravens kept At theirs.
After awhile there was great olankinR of
chains and soms millions Of Gods GREAT
ures stood blinded under the bright. new
sun Of freedom. That vas all light. too
Then every body began TO look about for
the people who had issred at John G.
Whittier, bus nobody could nnd them.