[Boston—Thursday, 27 October 1870]

Thursday October 20 [sic]. Whittier came to breakfast at 8 o’clk. He was looking paler even and thinner than usual but his presence was strong as ever and his warm friendliness a benediction. A day or two before he had returned my scrap-book of papers upon Dickens, saying how sad it was to remember how little to [sic, for we] express of love and reverence to our living friends, how we leave it till they are gone, and then can only lament that we sat in silence before them. He, so loyal in his friendships, cannot accuse himself of much of anything left undone towards those who are dear.

He was interested in a project J. proposed to him for making a collection of poems for young people, whereupon we got out our favorite Poets & Poetry of Europe by H.W.L. and he showed me Annie of Tharaw while J. showed him Dirk Smits little poem. It was a delightful hour, especially while we talked of Burns who always inflames Whittier into a new poetic rage.

We talked over the advantage of staying in one place, the place in wh. Providence has placed us in this world, instead of beating about the world for greater advantages & of position or circumstance. He laughed much over the story of Carlyle going to hunt up a new residence with a map of the world in his pocket.


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