see neither honesty nor worldly wisdom in attempting to ignore the cause of the trouble.

"They tell us we must trust and have patience; and I do not like to find fault with the Administration, as in so doing I seem to take sides with the secession-sympathisers of the North.

"I thank thee for thy anecdotes of the 'contrabands.' If I can do anything, in prose or verse, to aid the cause, I shall be glad.

"I wish somebody would write a song worthy of the people and the cause; I am not able to do it."

This letter shows the mental attitude of the man, hampered only by the illogical theory of non-resistance. So he wrote but few war poems, and those with hardly the old fire, rather resigned as regarded the contest, but trusting and hopeful for the result. Beside the lines to Fremont, we have "At Port Royal," in which is the Song of the Negro Boatmen, "Mithridates at Chios," the "Battle Autumn of 1862," an "Anniversary Poem" for the annual Friends' Meeting at Newport in 1863, some few others, and one brave, deservedly popular ballad, “Barbara Frietchie," of an old woman of Frederick Town, Maryland, who is said to have persistently displayed, from an upper window, the Union flag, in the face of Stonewall Jackson and a rebel force passing through the street in which she lived.

Of the departure of regiments, the pomp and circumstance of war, we see nothing in Whittier's poems. His abhorrence of slaughter was innate, and continued by the man's firm convictions; and the splendour of the movement of vast masses, so purposed, had no charm

for the peace-loving Quaker. But when the 54th Massachusetts coloured regiment went forth, headed by its youthful colonel, Robert G. Shaw, he wrote to Mrs. Child: "I shall never forget the scene. As Colonel Shaw rode at the head of his troops, the flower of grace and chivalry, he seemed to me beautiful and awful as an angel of God come down to lead the hosts of freedom to victory." Shaw fell at the assault on Fort Wagner, and was buried there "among his niggers." There is a fine portrait of him by his father's friend, the American painter, William Page. "I have longed," continues Whittier, "to speak the emotions of that hour, but I dared not, lest I should give a new impulse to the war." The Berserker heritage has not been quite effaced, however overlaid by honest Quaker principle.

During this period, in war-time, 1863, there occurred a memorable celebration of the thirtieth anniversary of the founding of the American Anti-Slavery Society at Philadelphia. Garrison, who had presided at the founding, presided here, and in an impressive speech led all to see the signs of approaching triumph. He spoke of Whittier, unable on account of ill-health to attend the meeting; and, before reading a letter sent to account for the poet's non-attendance, spoke of him as one "known and honoured throughout the civilised world." He added: "I have no words to express my sense of the value of his services. There are few living who have done so much to operate upon the public mind and conscience and heart of our country for the abolition of slavery as John Greenleaf Whittier."

Whittier's letter, of course sharing in the congratu

lations, did not fail to impress the still urgent need of speech. "We must not forget that from this hour new and mighty responsibilities devolve upon us, to aid, direct, and educate these millions, left free indeed, but bewildered, ignorant, naked, and foodless, in the wild chaos of civil war. We have to undo the accumulated wrongs of two centuries; to remake the manhood that slavery has well-nigh unmade; to see to it that the longoppressed coloured man has a fair field for development and improvement, and to tread under our feet the last vestige of that hateful prejudice which has been the strongest external support of Southern slavery. We must lift ourselves at once to the true Christian attitude where all distinctions of black and white are overlooked in the heartfelt recognition of the brotherhood of

man.

"I must not close this letter without confessing that I cannot be sufficiently thankful to the Divine Providence which, in a great measure through thy instrumentality," (the letter is addressed to Garrison) "turned me so early away from what Roger Williams calls 'the world's great trinity, pleasure, profit, and honour,' to take side with the poor and oppressed. I am not insensible to literary reputation; I love, perhaps too well, the praise and good-will of my fellow-men; but I set a higher value on my name as appended to the Anti-Slavery Declaration of 1833 than on the title-page of any book.

Looking over a life marked by many errors and shortcomings, I rejoice that I have been able to maintain the pledge of that signature, and that in the long intervening years

'My voice, though not the loudest, has been heard Wherever Freedom raised her cry of pain.'

Let me, through thee, extend a warm greeting to the friends, whether of our own or the new generation, who may assemble on the occasion of commemoration. For thyself, I need not say that the love and esteem of early boyhood have lost nothing by the test of time."

On the New Year of 1864 the President's proclamation declared American slavery to be at an end.

Po the war,

CHAPTER XIII.

66

OEMS, in no wise war poems, but produced during were "Cobbler Keezar's Vision," "Amy Wentworth," the "Countess,' "Andrew Rykman's Prayer," and the "River Path." Now the great strife is at an end the poet may with clear conscience devote himself to art, and, if need be, more fully vindicate his position as a poet, though all of old patriotic utterance be forgotten by peace-loving ears. In 1865 appeared a "Winter Idyll," since better known as Snowbound," the most perfect, looked at artistically, of the poet's work, from which has already been quoted the description of the poet's family, and from which there is no need to borrow more to show that the poet, released from his self-imposed task of so many years, has at last come to the natural bent of his genius. Now, no need of clangour or the high-voicing of indignant appeal, we have him in the pleasantness of his early home, or among poetic friends, striking the sweet chords of his lyre, well-tuned and free from discord. This "Winter Idyll" fixed his rank beside the best. The "Tent on the Beach" followed in 1867 to enhance his popularity. The purpose of this poem is to serve as a sort of frame to poems already written. The occasion is the encampment of Whittier with two friends, the poet Bayard Taylor and the