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Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 4 2 0 Browse Search
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 16. 2 0 Browse Search
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Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 4, Chapter 10: death of Mrs. Garrison.—final visit to England.—1876, 1877. (search)
w no allies. How would it do, said Mr. Garrison, to place this interrogation above the door of the House of Commons?— Shall the throne of iniquity have fellowship with thee, which frameth mischief by a law? Psalm XCIV. 20. I used to quote that in the Anti-Corn Law Days, replied Mr. Bright, with a smile. Then he alluded to Lewis Morris's recent poem, The Epic of Hades, which had greatly impressed him, and repeated, with exquisite feeling, Whittier's beautiful apostrophe to his sister in Snow Bound. Descending next to the river terrace, the two friends talked of the future life, and Mr. Garrison narrated the curious circumstance of Henry C. Wright's Ante, p. 253. post-mortem suggestions about his burial-place. The story greatly interested Mr. Bright, who had known the author of A kiss for a blow thirty years before, and he speedily repeated it to others. The third memorable incident, which an artist might well have depicted on canvas, was when, during a quiet stroll through the
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 16., Distinguished guests and residents of Medford. (search)
ting, had pupils here to whom he gave instruction in drawing (about 1863). John G. Whittier was a guest in the home of his brother, Matthew Francis Whittier, who at that time (1865-8) owned the cottage house on Pleasant street (present number 50), now occupied by Mrs. Sarah K. Tebbetts, from whom she bought the property in 1871. The house has been much enlarged and altered, and at that time a neat iron fence was in front of the estate. This was the brother to whom the poet referred in Snow Bound, in these lines:— Ah, brother! only I and thou Are left of all that circle now,— The dear home faces whereupon That fitful firelight paled and shone. Matthew Whittier wrote under the name of Ethan Spike, and in physical and general characteristics was unlike the gentle poet. He was tall, of rather heavy features and florid complexion. On the street he was a noticeable figure, for he wore a long cape, tall hat and though very erect carried a stout cane. When I first saw him I t