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S A NM U E L E L I O  T.
B O S TON.
I869.




UNIVERSITY PREVSS: WELCH, BIGELOW, & CO.,
CAMBRIDGE.




TO
THE DESCENDANTS OF MY FATHER,
THIS SKETCH IS OFFERED,
IN THE HOPE THAT IT MAY EXCITE AN INTEREST IN HIS
CHARACTER, RESPECT FOR HIS MEMORY, AND
IMITATION OF HIS VIRTUES.
JUNE, 1869.








S AMUEL ELIOT.
I739-I1820.








SAMUEL ELIOT.
M        Y recollections of my father are vivid and very interesting to me. I was nineteen years old when he left
us; and, as time passes, and my measurement of character
and conduct is better informed and enlarged, I look upon
what he was and what he did with deeper value and respect.
As numbers multiply about me, and individual character is
more and more merged in their presence and their conventionalities, I feel a stronger respect for his, excellences and
for his peculiarities, -his strong sense and refined taste in
literature, his sincere respect for religion, his vehement and
generous feeling, his frank expression of his likes and dislikes, - all developed, governed, and made efficient, by
his energy and right purpose.
I wish that I could place before his descendants a worthy
sketch of his principles, his resolute adherence to them, and
the animation and vigor that he put into every action.  I
should like to paint his manly, handsome person, and the
activity of his movements, with the freshness and distinctness in which they live in -my memory. I cannot satisfy
myself in what I shall write, -it would be little to my
credit if I did,- but I can record my recollections, and
facts learned from others.
There were no startling or remarkable events in Mr.
Eliot's life, but there was great progress in good things;




4
for his earnest desire for improvement, and his efforts to
gain it, were constant and  faithful.   His life of eighty-one
years included the teachings of poverty and wealth, the
blessings of children and friends, and their loss, ambitions
and loving hopes gratified and disappointed, perfect health,
with much-prized independence of the services of others,
and, in his closing years, almost entire dependence, from
the loss of sight.
It is interesting and instructive to hear how success is
achieved, and how prosperity and disappointment are
borne.
Of my grandfather, Samuel Eliot,*  I can  give but few
facts. According to a record left by one of the family,
he was the son of Andrew Eliot, third in descent from
the first emigrant of the name, from " the County of Summerset, England," who in "his will styled himself cordwainer." He was born September 17, I7I3. He was a
printer, publisher,? and bookseller; for in  those primitive
days, many trades and most of their mechanism often centred in one pair of hands. In May, I735, he married Miss
Elizabeth Marshall, of whom I know nothing before her
marriage, but that she came from  the West Indies.
Mr. Eliot's home and place of business was in a small
*A list of names and dates will be found at the end of the volume.
t In the autumn of I743 a Periodical was published in Boston called "The American Magazine and Historical Chronicle, by Samuel Eliot, in Cornhill, and sold by Joshua
Blanchard, in Dock Square, by Benjamin Franklin, in Philadelphia, and by others in New
York, New Haven, and Newport." It was edited by Jeremy Gridley, Esq., and cost two
dollars a year. It was continued three years and four months. - DRAKE'S History of Boston.
The only relic of Mr. Eliot, my grandfather, as a publisher, that I know of, is a small
volume that I have, entitled "A Display of God's Special Grace, in a familiar Dialogue between a Minister and a Gentleman of his Congregation. Printed by Rogers &
Fowle, for S. Eliot, 174Z." The author's name is not given.




5
house in Main, now Washington Street, between Court
Street and the present Cornhill.  There my father was
born, August 25, I739, and there my grandfather died,
May 9, I745, at the early age of thirty-two, leaving his
widow with four young children, and without any means
of support but what her own energy and capacity might
procure.
They were very poor. Among the few incidents of his
youth, that my father ever spoke of, was his having been
obliged to run of errands in all weather, in thin clothing,
and often ragged shoes.  He attributed his subsequent
vigorous health to this exposure, but his endurance simply
proved a naturally fine constitution.
From a manuscript volume of Notes and Recollections,
written by Dr. Ephraim Eliot, my father's cousin, I am
allowed to copy some passages, and give the first here.
This gentleman was a humorist and satirist.
" Mrs. Eliot, the mother of Samuel, was a proud woman,
independent in her feelings, if not in her purse, and was
possessed of a spirit which enabled her to bear up against
the difficulties by which she was surrounded, and to prefer
to rely upon her own exertions rather than the assistance
of others, however well disposed her friends may have been
towards her.  But with four small children to provide for,
she found it a hard task.  From all accounts, the children
were well disposed, active, and industrious, and as they
grew up, did what they could for the comfort of the
whole.  Such was their destitute condition, that, Mr.
Eliot has often related, he and his sister used to saw
their mother's wood in the evening, and always felt happy
when so employed. This state of poverty gave rise to a
disposition to anxiety, of which he never could divest
himself."




6
This, though not cordial, seems to me a high eulogy.
A widow, at the age of thirty-one, burdened by sorrow,
poverty, and care, had too true a dignity to live on bounty;
and by steady energy and self-denial she educated her children to be active and respectable members of society, and
had the wisdom and skill to make them happy, while they
bore their portion of privation, and performed their share
of labor. I do not know that a mother, in such a position,
could do more or better.
I have heard it was said that my father, being an only
son, was too much indulged; that he governed his mother
and sisters, and acquired too much value for himself and
his own opinions.  The power that carried him cheerfully
through deprivations in childhood, hard work and responsibility in youth and early manhood, may excusably
have created much self-reliance; it was simply an overgrowth of what it was indispensable he should cultivate.
As to governing his family, I think it could not have
reached tyranny, for both mother and sisters had too
much of the same qualities with himself to have submitted
tamely. The indulgences within his mother's means must
have been of very limited nature and number. Sawing
wood in leisure hours seems to have been one of them.
There is little more to tell of this reserved and saddened
lady. Four children survived their father, Elizabeth,
Samuel, Ruth, and Sarah. Two sons had died in infancy.
Truly she was acquainted with grief.  Her last years were
full of recompense in the characters and position of her
children, and their faithful care of her comfort.
"The children," says Dr. Eliot, "were well disposed
and industrious."  They certainly were intelligent.  Of
Elizabeth, the oldest, two and a half years older than her




brother, our Miss Hannah* said to me once, "She -was
very smart, and helped your Pa tend his shop as well as
any man could."   Ruth, two years younger than my father,
was very bright-minded and witty, a little prone to satire.
Sarah was born only four months before her father's death;
her infancy  was, therefore, shadowed  by  grief, and  her
youth burdened by privation.
The beneficent provision of free schools in Boston enabled my father, at the proper age, to attend the Latin
School, under  "Master  Lovell's"  teaching.   " Master
Lovell,"t  famous  through  more  than  one  generation,
has now passed from memory, with the venerable brick
school-house in  School Street, where he taught, the name
of the  street being  its  only  memento.   I  have  heard
(though not from my father) that Master Lovell flogged
all the boys every Monday morning. He was certainly a
stimulating teacher, and respected by his pupils; and Mr.
Eliot's intelligence and ambition taught him the value
of such instruction. Cousin Ephraim says: " Mr. Eliot
used to value himself upon retaining the knowledge of
the Greek language, which he acquired when a schoolboy. He read Homer while at the Grammar School,
under Lovell, and  relished it to the last.   He was a selfeducated man, all the advantages he ever received were
obtained at the public school, but he acquired much
* Miss Hannah went to live in my father's house when she was eighteen, and continued in the family fifty years.
t John Lovell graduated at Harvard College 1728, made Principal of the South Grammar School I738, was an excellent critic and classical scholar, a rigid disciplinarian, yet
an agreeable companion and very humorous. In 1742 he delivered an oration in Faneuil
Hall, on the death of Mr. Faneuil, an elegant composition. In the controversy between
Great Britain and the Colonies Master Lovell took a very decided part. He joined the
Loyalists, and left Boston March 17, 1776, and passed the rest of his days in Halifax.
Abridgedfrom ELIOT's Biographical Dictionary.




learning; - had read much and conversed more with the
literati."
The poverty that forced him to mechanical labor in the
intervals of school hours, and to an early apprenticeship,
limited the development of good powers, and the Doctor's phrase, " he acquired  much  learning," if meant
literally, shows as narrow  a standard.  Mr. Eliot's desire for improvement, and the impossibility of gratifying
it, excited a constantly increasing value for knowledge, and,
in later years, a resolution that his children should possess,
and, if possible, use faithfully, the best means of education
accessible to them. His love of reading was always a
source of happiness; books were to him the gems, the
luxuries of life, to be earnestly sought, and carefully cherished. This taste, no doubt, grew in his earliest years;
for his father's occupation must have made them the chief
interest of the whole household.  In those days (173 5-40),
books were rare treasures.  In my own youth I remember
such poverty and restriction in them, that I can hardly
imagine there were any accessible to a boy sixty-five years
earlier. Books, however, and periodicals my father did
have, - borrowed, no doubt,-for I have six or seven
extract books made by him before he was fifteen years
old, filled with well-chosen selections from Pope, Addison,
Shakespeare, Prior, and others, and from the Annual Register, Monthly Review, &c. There is much expression in
these little manuscripts.  The paper is coarse, but the
writing is clear and elegant, and the careful paging and index
prove a grateful sense of their value. When they met
his eye in later days in his cosey little " Book-room," as it
was modestly called, which held so many treasures, -the
fruit of honest labor,- they must have stirred his heart
like the face of a friend.




9
"At the suitable age," says the Chronicler, -" I do not
know the year, -young Eliot was placed apprentice to Mr.
Nathaniel Appleton, who was afterwards the first Commissioner of Loans for the United States. Mr. Appleton did
business in a small, snug way, and was unable to do much
for his apprentice, - nor was it then customary, - and
much idle time was spent- in the store. One day Mr.
Amory, of the house of Jona. & John Amory, one of the
first mercantile establishments in Boston, went into the
store, and after some commonplace conversation said,'Appleton, you have a smart boy here, and don't seem to
have much for him to do. I wish you would let me have
him. What will you take for his time?'  He was a
bounded apprentice, as was usual in those days, and he
had the privilege of refusing an exchange of indentures if
he chose.  But the business was concluded so suddenly
that he had no time to reflect, and on being asked if he
would go with Mr. Amory, he said'Yes,' took up his hat,
and departed.
"' Now,' said Mr. Eliot to me, -' now, Ephraim, it was
the very best thing for me that ever did happen, but when
I reached my destination, I burst into tears.  I was a poor,
fatherless boy, my mother a destitute widow, with three
daughters, all dependent. From that moment, I adopted a
detestation of the trading in human flesh which I have
never gotten over, and hope I never shall.  I had been
literally sold by a master. Within a short time Mr.
Amory gave me a guinea, and told me to buy some clothing he saw me in need of. I ran home and gave it to my
mother to do with for herself and the others as she thought
proper. Shortly after he gave me a piece of linen, which
my mother distributed amongst us.  Occasionally these
2




things, or similar ones, were repeated, and though they
were of trifling consequence to him, they were of vast importance to me.'
" In course of time Mr. Eliot became of age, and such
was the confidence of the Messrs. Amory in his capacity
and integrity, that, being desirous of devoting themselves
wholly to the wholesale department, they consigned the
retail business to his management, and he conducted it as
partner for several years.  He then assumed the business
on his own account solely, and became a very noted shopkeeper, and for many years did as much or more business
than any retailer in Boston."
It was in 1760 that my father came of age, and soon after,
having hired of the Messrs. Amory their building in Dock
Square, which included dwelling-house and store,* he established his mother and sisters there.  Eight years of constant labor and faithful industry had raised the "raggedshoed"  boy  to  being  merchant and  householder.   He
had had no aid from any relative or friend excepting his
employers; from boyhood his hours had been sobered by
hard work and responsibility, and now care and self-denial
were not diminished. The vigor of his nature is proved
not only by his success, but by the energy with which he
sought intellectual improvement, even while his labors increased.  The mother's heart must have been brightened
by such results of the integrity and capacity of her son.
* From a newspaper of the time I copy one of Mr. Eliot's advertisements:(' Samuel Eliot,
At his Shop, near the Head of Dock
Square,
Has for sale,
Wool and Cotton Goods,      Pistols, Powder, Ravensduck,
4 and Io Nails,             Metal Buttons,
China Bowls, &c.,           Bibles and Testam'ents,
Men's Boot Soles,           Kippers & Tillocks Snuff."




Mr. Eliot's nearest relative was his uncle, Doctor Andrew  Eliot, the minister of the New  North  Church  in
Hanover Street.   He was distinguished  for talent and
strong character, and stood high in the community, independently of the prestige then attached to his profession.
He had eleven children, five of them  sons, and having no
resource but his salary, he could hardly aid a brother's son
with anything but affection and advice. My father always
cherished the deepest respect for his uncle, and passed every
Sunday evening with him till his own marriage.
The apprentice having earned the honorable position of
partner gave close attention to his enlarged duties.  He
used to tell us of the pains he took to serve every lady *
that came to his shop; if one wanted but a yard of tape,
he "waited upon her as if she were a duchess." He was
fluent and highly complimentary to his customers, so that
those who liked to laugh at him  styled him  "the Professor of Shop  Oratory."   In  Dr. Eliot's manuscript his
business rules are given, and two seem worth copying.
" When party politics prevailed, I expressed no approbation or disapprobation so as to involve myself in a dispute; a place of business is no place for disputation of
any kind.
"Punctuality was always attended to in everything, to
render the same advantages to every one, and to make
people as punctual to me as I was to them."
The first statement records more self-command than will
be generally estimated in our own days of strong party
* One day a lady, struck by the care and politeness with which he served her, said to
him, "Mr. Eliot, if you treat all your customers as you have me, you will soon ride in
your own coach." " If I ever have one, madam," he answered, " you'shall be the first to
ride in it." A promise literally fulfilled, as I was told by Mr. Jonathan Philips, who, in
his youth, was an apprentice to Mr. Eliot for two years.




I 2
spirit.  The years from  I760 to I770 were full of anxious and alarming forebodings; deep excitement stirred
every heart.  Opposition to England was thought by a
portion of the people not only absurd and unnatural, but
wicked, and, having official support, they did not fear
to express their contempt and disapprobation of it; while
those who, from principle and conviction, maintained the
rights of the people knew well what would be the bitter
cost of resistance.  Mr. Eliot's temperament was vehement, full of quick feeling and vivid interest, decided
likings and dislikes, and he did not always restrain a too
forcible expression of opinion.  He felt the injustice to
his native country in the recent acts of the Government;
but besides the dread of ruin to his own prospects and
hopes, if discontent became rebellion, - amongst his strongest feelings and established judgments dwelt admiration for
England, her people, her ancient government, and her institutions.  Loyalty to the beautiful island as " home" was
cherished in many hearts that had beat only in America;
and, sharing the feeling, this was to him a period of sharp
and peculiar trial.
It was in 1764 that our Mother Government showed
such ignorant courage in enforcing the Stamp Act, that
fire-brand which kindled a slow fire unquenched for many
years.  In November, 1765, Mr. Eliot's " Master," as he
always called him, Mr. John Amory, wrote to his correspondent in London:"c If this Act is forced upon us we shall consider ourselves as slaves, without anything we can call our own.  It
must render disaffected to the English Government above
a million of people, who, till now, were proud of being
Englishmen, and as firmly attached to the interests of




13
England as if they had been born there. After being
deprived of our natural liberties as men, and our privileges,
granted to our ancestors by Royal Charter, we shall be very
indifferent who are our foreign masters, and perhaps we may
like them least whom we once liked the best."
One month later Mr. Amory wrote: -
" We cannot think the merchants who deal with America
will find it their interest to increase their debt here by
farther exportation, unless the Stamp Act be repealed.
The resentment of the people here is at a high pitch, and
will be much higher if not soon relieved. There will certainly be a combination of all sorts of people to throw off
every kind of luxury in dress, which, you know, will take
off two thirds of our imports from Great Britain.  People
begin to clothe themselves in our own manufactures. We
are at present in a state of anarchy, but we are petitioning
our Governor and Council that our Courts may be open,
and this, we think, they must come into, as people seem
determined to pay no taxes to Government if we are deprived of the benefit of it."*
These simple, strong words give a vivid impression of
the prompt resoluteness of that early period, and two of the
facts are very striking, - that two thirds of the importations at that time were for luxuries in dress, and that our
manufactures were sufficient to be spoken of almost defiantly. When such things were written to a London correspondent, what must have been the amount of discussion
and sympathy in homes, counting-houses, and offices, and
what anxiety and sorrow, mingled with indignation and
clear foresight of greater evils to come! Wealth, honor,
pleasure, elegance, literature, clustered on that distant
- From a Letter-Book of the Messrs. Amory, kindly lent to me by James Amory, Esq.




14
shore, kindling imagination and ambition, and though
this  cynosure  was  not  accessible  to  all, it had  been  a
happiness to call it "Ours."
The intelligent activity and capacity which first attracted
Mr. Amory's attention to my father, when a boy, and the
honest earnestness that he gave to all he did, won for him
much respect and trust, and secured to him a thorough
knowledge of business.   Evidently his character, industry,
and skill brought a higher recompense than mere material
success, for in 1765, when twenty-six years old, he married
Miss Elizabeth Barrell, the oldest daughter of Mr. Joseph
Barrell, then one of the wealthy and noted men of Boston.
The family was a large one,-five sons and two daughters,
- and they lived in a style of expense and freedom from
control that formed a conspicuous contrast to the common
family  life  of the period.   The  house, a large and  handsome establishment, was in  Summer Street, a garden and
fish-pond * extended over what is now Franklin Street, and
* Mr. Barrell's fish-pond having been destroyed by lightning, his friend, Dr. John
Clarke, sent him the following lines, which are given as a last century jeu d'esprit.
"What can I do? What can I say?
My pond, alas! has run away,
My gold and silver fish have fled,
And all my trout, alas! are dead.
Now will my Neighbour Clarke rejoice,
And raise his tantalizing voice;
And now a more provoking wife
Will jeer and vex me for her life;
My son, computing all the cost,
Will mourn twelve hundred dollars lost;
And Hannah, in a plaintive strain,
Will wish the water back again
Hetty will act a generous part,
And sigh sincerely from her Iheart;




'5
the whole was kept up with some degree of elegance.  A
few years later, thinking himself unreasonably taxed by the
town  fathers, Mr. Barrell left this  beautiful estate in  much
indignation, bought another in Charlestown, and there
gratified his love of show by building a finer house and
laying out larger gardens and pleasure-grounds, adding
greenhouses, and not omitting a fish-pond.* There he
gathered his friends to admire his taste and success, to
take fruit and coffee, and wander about the grounds.
A vision of one such scene lives in my memory, but
But dear Elizal foe to sorrow,
Will keep her tears to shed to-morrow;
The Doctor,2 like a generous friend,
Will hear my story to the end,
Then more than common sorrow feign,
And drink Madeira for his pain,
Happy to find that wine is plenty,
Though my deceitful pond be empty.
Ye streams, once more prolific flow,
And fill, O fill, the pond below!
Ye clouds, which overspread the sky,
Send down your treasures from on high;
To me your friendly stores impart,
But stay the all-destructive dart 
In answer to my fervent prayer,
Oh! give me Neighbor Russell's share,
And that I never may complain,
Oh! give me all my Parson's rain!
So will my little vessels ride
Upon my own domestic tide;
The fish, a new, imported race,
Again will find a dwelling-place.
Again bright Venus will appear,
As if she had been bathing here.
And I shall laugh at all who say,' What time and money thrown away!
* This estate is now the Asylum for the Insane in Somerville, a part of old Charlestown. The name of Barrell is little known among us now.
i Mrs. Eliot.                                    2 Dr. Bulfinch.




i6
only a pencil like Watteau's could place it before the
comprehension of others.   The drive of two  miles in
the high English phaeton, with my father and mother,
-the black coachman perched upon a small, round seat
in  front,   was a fitting  introduction  to  the  delights
that followed. The house, with its spacious entrance-hall,
its grand staircase, its many-panelled and stuccoed rooms,
seemed a stately palace; and I walked, with my beautiful mother, through long alleys shaded by fine trees, with
wide flower-beds on either hand, so radiant in color that
one might almost have thought a rainbow had been thrown
there.   Groups of richly-dressed  ladies and gentlemen
moved slowly about, or lingered to feed the gold-fish or
examine the greenhouses  the silks and laces, small-clothes,
powdered heads, and three-cornered hats (it was the time
of George III.) harmonizing well with the setness of form
in the style of the garden.  Seen through the vista of sixty
years a glow still lingers on the scene.
It was a long step in the ascent of life when Mr. Eliot
persuaded the brilliant Miss Barrell to leave the position
of oldest daughter in such an establishment as her father's,
(then in Summer Street) for a modest home over a shop in
Dock Square, and the attendance of one young domestic;
but I can well comprehend the vehemence with which he
would seek to win her, and the attraction she found in him.
He was full of youthful ardor* and intelligence, handsome
* It has amused me, while dwelling on what occurred a hundred years ago, to meet with.
these lines in a very modern poem, more appropriate, perhaps, than poetical:"His bearing, prospects, birth,-all these
Might well, with small suit, greatly please 




I7
in person, with a decision and self-reliance that encourage
trust, and are welcome to a woman when they are controlled
by good manners and admiration of her.
My knowledge of Mrs. Eliot is slight; my impressions
are more picturesque than distinct. All who could have
described her were gone when I desired information except
Miss Hannah, and she had not the power of analyzing
or describing qualities or manners.  Miss Hannah, that
strong engine in our family movements for more than fifty
years, went to live in my father's house in 1763, when she
was eighteen years old, and for many years was the only
domestic. She was observing and shrewd, of course living
in close contact with her employers, and she retained till
the end of a long  life a fresh memory of the friends,
events, and  labors of her youth.   She talked of Mrs.
Eliot a little as one does of a winning child, -of her
pretty looks and ways, of her love of frolic and practical
jokes, of her impatience under illness or care.  She told
of her friendliness, - that she would call her to talk to her
when solitude or languor was too heavy; and she described
the delicacy of her organization and her variable spirits.
The old lady spoke with emphasis and  bated breath of
How greatly, when she saw arise
The reflex sweetness of her eyes
In his, and every breath defer
Humbly its bated life to her;
Whilst power and kindness of command,
Which women can no more withstand
Than we their grace, were still unquell'd,
And force and flattery both compell'd
Her softness."         C. PATMORE, Faithful Forever.
3




the many changes of her dress,   " more than your Ma
and any three of you children ever used, dear," -of her
"ten white Holland aprons trimmed with lace," and of her
children having " clean slips on every day." The recollection
seemed almost to bring back weariness and pain.
I gather, therefore, that Mrs. Eliot was pretty, animated,
fascinating, winning affection easily, taxing it frequently,
trying patience, and finding forgiveness as soon as she
knew the need of it.  My cousin the apothecary says,
" She was a very lady-like woman, sensible and facetious."
She had a kind heart, was quick to feel for others, and it
is easy to imagine the power she would hold over such a
temperament as Mr. Eliot's. It was a union of much
affection, but its brightness was now and then shaded by
variable spirits, sensitive nerves, and real sorrow from
loss of children.
Mrs. Eliot's only sister, Ruth Barrell, was much younger
than herself, and lived till I820. She married Mr. John
Andrews, a hardware merchant, and they both occupy a
niche in my memory quite by themselves, and so distinctly, that I cannot help giving a slight sketch of what
now seems so marked. Mrs. Andrews was peculiar in most
things.  Her figure was smaller, more delicate, than those
about her; her feet and hands were small and prettily
shaped; her complexion was fair and soft; her eyes were
bright but small, her voice variable and low, and her
enunciation so slow and measured that each word had a
space to itself, so that one felt entitled to something better
than common. Fortunately, *some quickness of wit and
repartee, with a flavor of sarcasm, kept up attention and
interest.




I9
This fairy-like figure was always dressed in rich silks
of delicate hues, with much fine lace about the head and
throat.  It seems to me as if she was always seated in an
arm-chair like a throne, with a footstool, and holding a fan
or screen.  I never recollect seeing her occupied with any
woman's work, or hearing of her undertaking any, beyond
a little drawing with pen and ink, a little versifying, or a
little reading. But a wife, and mother of four children, must
have been forced sometimes to real work; perhaps it was
her skill and refined taste that kept it out of sight.  Mrs.
Andrews certainly had attractive powers and qualities, for
my father and mother were much attached to her, and they
estimated her by different though equally generous standards.  Intercourse between the families was frequent; visits
were often exchanged, beginning with dinner at three
o'clock, and ending with supper at nine, after a rubber
of whist. There was'much fun, repartee, and animation,
at these meetings, among the elders, I am* told (for this
was before my time); but to the younger portion of the
family they were more discipline than pleasure.  Mrs.
Andrews's badinage, and Miss Armstrong's sharp watchfulness and oppressive patronage, I recall as subjects of
youthful dread.
Miss Armstrong was Mrs. Andrews's dame de compagnie,
and became, I imagine, controller as well as companion.
An entire contrast to Mrs. Andrews, she was, indeed, something fearful. Her figure was large, her movements were
stiff and angular, her complexion red, her large, black, and
piercing eyes always watchful and sharp, her voice deep
and harsh. She always sat firmly upright, as if the comfort of joints was unknown to her, and the questions and
remarks that came from her prim lips expressed an almost




20
equally rigid judgment. She formed her standard of propriety and attraction from  Mrs. Andrews's children, and
whatever in my mother's differed from them, she appeared
to consider unfortunate or wrong.
Mrs. Andrews, in her last years, had much sorrow, disappointment, and illness to endure, and it was all borne
with meek and Christian patience. She found great comfort
in my mother's gentle, cheerful companionship, and the
simple, strong faith by which she lived.
Mr. Andrews was as peculiar in person and figure as was
Mrs. Andrews.  He, too, was small and erect in figure;
his eyes were small and without expression, his voice thin,
his enunciation slow and measured.  His dress was always
exact and uniform to a fold, from his first appearance in
the morning, - his hair nicely powdered (but not creped),
with a tightly tied queue. A blue dress coat with gilt
buttons, buff or straw-colored vest, delicately plaited shirt
ruffles, and a radiantly white linen stock, laid in folds
and fastened behind, black small-clothes, white silk stockings, with shoes and steel buckles, formed his costume
in my early days. Later, he conformed a little to the
changing style, but he never gave up either powder or
stock.
Mr. Andrews was a successful hardware merchant, lived
simply and elegantly, and in his leisure hours superintended the cultivation of a garden that was a public benefaction.  His pretty, white house stood in the midst of
it, shaded by fine trees, its front towards Winter Street, its
back towards what is now Hamilton Place.  The whole




2 1
square (except what was occupied by the house) formed by
Hamilton Place, Tremont Street, Winter Street, and the
land now covered by a large stone warehouse, was radiant
through spring, summer, and autumn, with a succession of
bulbs, flowers, and flowering shrubs, chosen and arranged
with the best taste and most loving care.  It was enclosed
by a wooden rail-fence, and gave cheering and delight to
the passing citizens, who lingered as they passed.
The interior of the house showed the same refined taste
that reigned  without.   A  bow-windowed  sitting-room,
looking out under the shadow of a graceful elm upon the
jewelled garden, was a lovely ladies' bower, with its soft
carpet of light hues, pretty curtains, and cushioned windowseats; its panelled walls, low ceiling, and stucco ornaments; its white and gilded fauteuils and footstools; its
painted screens, China figures, vases, and fanciful candlesticks. When the fairy lady, in full dress, was seated in it,
with proper arrangement of chair, footstool, and screen,
with a few friends about her, it was a pretty scene, particularly by the light of wax candles. When Mr. Andrews
sold this charming estate, he built a house in Jamaica
Plain,* and there arranged other gardens and grounds.
During the siege of Boston, Mr. Andrews remained in
Boston alone, and, in a series of almost daily letters
addressed to his brother-in-law, Mr. William Barrell, of
Philadelphia, gave a spirited and interesting sketch of the
course of events, and the temper and condition of the
people.  It forms a quaint and spirited account of a
period of intense excitement in the little town, when
brave Massachusetts opened a contest with what seemed
* Now owned and occupied by Mr. Moses Williams, wine-merchant, and not externally
changed at all.




22
an overwhelming power, and endured the first sharp sufferings of the Revolution.*
Of Mrs. Eliot's brothers I have little to say.  I have
heard that the oldest, Mr. Joseph Barrell, was a coarse,
showy person, annoying our sensitive mother by his loud
laugh and voice, his free jokes and compliments, and the
jovial, careless style of his establishment.  He had a large
family of sons, and one daughter, who married Mr. Benjamin Joy.  Mrs. Joy possessed a tenderness of feeling
and manner, a depth of religious principle and faith, and
a winning excellence in action, that are as rare as they are
precious and beautiful.  My father and mother loved her
very dearly, and to all of us she was an object of admiration and affection.
My father was married, as I have said, in 1765; and
when he placed his young bride in his own hired house, I
can imagine him radiant with content, hope, and a sense of
well-earned success. What a charm and glow brightens
happiness, when it is the result of personal effort, industry,
and self-denial!  His mother and sisters had been previously established in a house near Brattle Street Church,
another proof of worldly success and of good judgment.
The following year his second sister, Ruth, married
Mr. Jeremy Belknap, a clergyman, then settled in Dover,
New Hampshire, but afterwards the minister of Federal
Street Church, in Boston.   He had much talent and
* Printed by the Massachusetts Historical Society in its Proceedings.




23
learning, quick wit, and most genial, delightful character
and manners. His History of New Hampshire has won
for  him   a  name  and  reputation.    Dover  was  then  a
small town, at a serious distance from Boston, and to
soften the almost absolute separation from all her friends,
the youngest sister, Sally, accompanied Mrs. Belknap to
her new home.
One year later, in I767, the mother who had so nobly
and successfully struggled with poverty and care died,
fifty-three years old; and then Elizabeth, the oldest
child, joined her sisters in Dover, and remained there
several years.   She died  unmarried, in  Boston, in  I777,
aged forty.   Sally  died  in  Dover, I77I, twenty-six  years
old.*
Changes followed rapidly in my father's life at this time.
Till he was twenty-six, his experience was simply an enlargement of responsibility and increase of work, and the
one event, the establishment of his mother and  sisters in
Dock Square. Within two years from his marriage, he
was the only member of that peaceful household remaining in Boston.
But a fresh treasure was given to him, - a little girl who,
though  she  lived  but a few  weeks, must have developed
new powers of love, faith, and resignation in her parents.
Such gifts, fleeting to our measurement, would often be
called durable, if their power over the heart and life could
be recognized.
* Dr. Belknap, in a letter describing her state of mind in her last illness, says: "She
was remarkably cautious of speaking ill of any, and loved the company of those best who
never talked against their neighbors. She was full of benevolence, candor, and modesty,
a dutiful daughter, an affectionate friend, especially to our dear children. She had no
gayety in her natural temper, but was rather melancholy, of few words, and in the company-of strangers quite reserved." A touching sketch of a short life, begun in sorrow and
poverty, and closed at a distance from her mother and home!




24
Mr. Eliot had now separated his business wholly from
the house of the Messrs. Amory, imported goods from
England for himself, and soon became desirous to make
personal acquaintance with his correspondents, enlarge their
number, acquire information, and satisfy, in some degree,
his longing to see that magic land, the source, in his judgment, of all great and good things. What consultations
and anxious interest his decision to make the voyage must
have occasioned in the small, intimate circle, in those days
when a visit to England was a more formidable undertaking
than in our days of constant rapid movement can be at
all comprehended!  One or two ships made two or three
voyages to England in a year from all the New England
coasts, -vessels prepared for lumber, fish, and ashes! and
not at all for passengers.  The captains were respectable,
trustworthy men, who would run no risks to increase speed,
and who probably lacked the skill to use short-lived advantages. The voyages averaged fifty days.
It was in the summer of I769 that Mr. Eliot determined
to sail in the Caernarvon, Captain Moore, from  Portsmouth, New Hampshire, for London, the vessel being
"loaded with masts, of the value of ~3,000 sterling."
The journey to Portsmouth, at that period, occupied two
days, and no doubt would now be called sadly rough.
Four friends went with him to keep up his spirits, -
his brother-in-law, Mr. Andrews, his cousin, Sam. Eliot,
and Messrs. Hunt and Loring.  At Portsmouth he found
two Mr. Barrells, brothers of Mrs. Eliot, and when he
embarked, August 7, the party numbered fourteen, who
saw him on board, and bade him God speed. He was
evidently attractive to his own sex, and of a cordial, genial
nature.  I am often reminded, as I write, of my dear and




25
brilliant brother William, finding  in  my  memories  of
him and of my father the same resolute execution of what
principle and judgment directed, the same quickness of
observation, capacity, and feeling, the same impulsive,
vehement interest, mingled with a refined taste, love of
genial intercourse, and withal a decided dislike of opposition.   How  much of usefulness and of charm  was lost
when my brother died, at the age of thirty-six!
A man-of-war schooner attended the Caernarvon one day
out, for what reason is not recorded.  A note-book, begun
when Mr. Eliot left Boston, gives some facts of each day
of his absence, but no opinions or feelings, and very few
descriptions of objects or people, -a reticence to be rather
regretted, since his observation and sympathy were ready
and acute, and any sketches of those days are curious now.
It was a rough, uncomfortable voyage: for twenty-eight
days storms and fogs pursued the ship, the wind being
sometimes so violent that they were obliged to eat what
they could get upon deck, -a lumber vessel being the
most unfit to resist such weather.  In spite of this most
unpoetic, uninspiring condition, Mr. Eliot committed to
the note-book a rhymed letter to his wife, of which I give
a small portion: —, Not rattling winds, joined with old ocean's roar, -
Scenes novel quite, since never viewed before,Not the smooth surface of the glassy sea,
Nor playful dolphins, move my thoughts from thee,Thee, my Eliza, thee, their constant theme;
Whether I wake by day or nightly dream,
Whether we smoothly srail or roughly roll,
Thy dearest image fills my constant soul."
He goes on, mingling pretty vehement political doctrines with complaints of loneliness, and then referring to
4




26
the Colonies, "owing subjection to  one common  head,
says -
"But mourn, my Muse! -that union now is broke,
And Britain's sons have found the galling yoke;
They who gave freedom to the world before
Decree their children shall be free no more.
Rouse, then, my friends, and form a noble band,
Save for yourselves, oh! save your native land
From slavery's fetters, and a tyrant's hand! "
This has the ring of rebellion, and would not help the
young merchant if the note-book should meet the eyes of
a Birmingham correspondent.
The 2oth of August some fishing vessels were seen on
the Banks, one of which being French, a boat was sent from
the Caernarvon to purchase wine or brandy, if possible,
and Mr. Eliot, with his usual activity, went with the mate
and two sailors.  He found, to his displeasure, that fishing
was going on, though it was Sunday; but being told that if
the men did not fish they would play cards, he forgave
that offence to the day. This shopping expedition in midocean was a failure, as no brandy or wine could be had.
On the 3d of September, four or five vessels being in
sight, a series of movements began, of which I will copy
the account from the book:"At five o'clock our sails were thrown back, in order
to wait for the ship to leeward, our captain being very
desirous to speak a ship bound home,* in order to put a
letter on board for insurance."
It was six o'clock before they could hail the vessel, and
learn that it was the sloop of war Hound, Captain Burr,
of fourteen or sixteen guns.  It was too late to send a boat
c "Home," of course, meant England j the Hound, sailing faster than the lumberloaded Caernarvon, would carry news to the owners.




27
to the Caernarvon; but, at Captain Moore's request, the
commander of the Hound agreed to hang out a light.
At eight o'clock next morning, the lieutenant of the
Hound went on board Captain Moore's vessel, and took
back the letter to the insurers, and an invitation from
Mr. Eliot to Captain Burr and his officers to dine with
him. He was also the bearer of "a present of a hog, a
sheep, and two geese."
"Our invitation we knew was accepted by the boat
being left out. At ten o'clock we shaved and dressed, and
at one the captain, doctor, and purser came on board. We
entertained them with a ham and boiled fowls, a roast
turkey, and a pair of roast ducks, and all the liquors of the
ship.  Captain Burr appeared a man of humanity and
politeness, Dr. Spence sensible and sober, the purser no
great things. We spent a very pleasant afternoon, they
staying to coffee, and at dusk returned with another sheep."
Truly ocean life was a little more leisurely in 1769 than
in I869.  But hospitalities were not ended by this sociable
visit. The Hound sends the Caernarvon a ten-gallon keg
of brandy, the keg being returned full of rum, and with it an
invitation to dinner was sent to the lieutenant for the next
day, which was declined. The following day the vessels were
so near to each other that their captains exchanged greetings, and the gentlemen of the Caernarvon were invited "to
take a glass of wine" on board the Hound. This being
accepted, the commander's six-oared barge took them to
the sloop at three o'clock, and it is recorded that they
" spent a pleasant afternoon," and that they " drank Claret,
Madeira, Teneriffe, Angelica, Malmsey, Ratafia, and coffee."
This sounds rather jolly, but the sloop is described as in a
sadly dirty condition.




28
On the ioth of September, the thirty-fourth day out,
the passengers were landed in a boat at Dover, there
they took "a post-chaise and four, and reached London
the next day at five o'clock." The note-book gives many
particulars of the journey, - calls Dover Castle "a paltry
fortification," says, "many handsome women in Dover,"
"took a meridian   at Dartford," "walked up Shuter's
Hill, which commanded a fine prospect."  Such a group
of friends greeted him the first evening in the Great
Babylon, at the New England Coffee House, that he
must have escaped the weight of loneliness often felt on
first arriving amongst its crowds.  He mentions Mr.
Boylston, Mr. Bromfield, Mr. John Gray, and Mr.
Martin; and later in the evening, at his hotel, five other
friends, whose names are not given, "came in from Sadler's Wells, and gave me a hearty welcome, while I was
at supper."
The next evening, after a busy day, "took a coach, with
Mr. Gilbert Harrison, Mr. Deblois, and Mr. Neal, to the
Haymarket, and saw " The Minor " and " The Author."
Mr. John Harrison and a Mr. Wilson joined us. Adjourned to the Queen's Arms, St. Paul's Churchyard,
where supped, and to bed at one o'clock." The night
following, the same gentlemen went with him to Foote's,
where he saw "The Devil upon two Sticks" and "The
Padlock," appropriately supped at the Devil Tavern, and
on this evening two o'clock was bedtime! Truly, pretty
well for a quiet Boston gentleman of thirty!
My father was now in the fullest development of manhood, his energies and capacities strongly stimulated.
He had an overflowing spirit of enjoyment and a love of
x  An uncertain measure of spirits, in those days sometimes called a " nooning.




29
social action that brightened the cordiality of others. His
feelings were keen and warm: beauty and tenderness touched
him easily; his admiration was often enthusiastic, sometimes extravagant, his dislikes very decided, occasionally
too frankly expressed. With spirits unchecked by care or
disappointment, he was undoubtedly at this period of his
life attractive and attaching. He certainly won many
warm and faithful friends in England.
I give here two letters that he carried with him:"'To Messrs. Wright and Gill, London.
"BOSTON, July 2I, I769.
"This you will receive by the hands of our friend Mr.
Eliot. Although he has himself had the pleasure of a correspondence with you, yet as we have a very particular
regard for him, he having been brought up in our store, we
could not let him go to England without recommending him
to your notice. We can freely recommend him to you as
a gentleman of whose integrity, industry, and capacity for
business we have the highest esteem. He has been successful in his business, and has now raised himself (wholly
by his own industry) a good stock to carry it on with."
"From Rev. Dr. Andrew Eliot to Stephen Sayre, Esq.,
Banker, London.
"BOSTON, August 3, I769.
"DEAR SIR, -Your goodness will, I hope, excuse the
liberty I take to recommend to your notice a kinsman
bound to Great Britain, who is very near to me, and who,
I doubt not, will recommend himself to your. esteem. He
is the only son of my deceased brother, and is a young gentle



30
man of good sense, and of an exemplary conversation.
Any notice you may take of him will lay me under very
great obligations, though I have no claim to such a favor.
" If I had more time, I should give my thoughts on our
political affairs. Your ministry act a very strange part;
their measures will more and more alienate the Colonies,
and bring on an event which neither side ought to desire
-an independency   much sooner than it would otherwise take place.  I wish, I long for a change of men,
without which I despair of a change of measures. The
purposed partial repeal will have but little effect to conciliate the Colonies. And yet I wish they might behave
with prudence, if that event takes place. I would have
them take what they can get, and not relax any measures
which will be likely to procure more.
"I am glad our representatives have made choice of
worthy Mr. De Berdt to be their agent. That gentleman
has much more integrity and wisdom than some who make
a great bluster, perhaps with a view to supplant him. He
hath hitherto served us with great fidelity, and I have great
confidence that he will omit nothing that can be done.'T is with me a great thing that he is a man of sincere piety.
Such an one may be depended on much more than those
who act from no principle, but to raise themselves.
"May the God of heaven interpose, and save both the
nation and her Colonies from  ruin.  I have great hopes
that the prayers of those who have an interest at the
Throne of Grace will at length prevail.
"I would again beg you to pardon the freedom used
by, dear Sir,
"Your obedient, humble servant,
" ANDREW ELIOT."




31
It was a stormy and threatening period.  Controversies
and complaints were constantly exchanged between the two
countries, and little Boston made herself conspicuous by
her protestation and firmness.  Miss De Berdt * wrote to
Mr. Reed (a gentleman of Philadelphia, whom she afterwards married), from  London, in I769,  "To be an American, or a friend of America, is a great disadvantage."
This  was natural; for, in  English judgment, we were
rebellious, ignorant children, who must be taught our place
by wholesome punishment, and stern contempt. It would
seem to have been an ill-timed effort for a young American
to ingratiate himself with sturdy, loyal manufacturers and
merchants. American credit was at a low point, and when
that did not fail, goods were to be chosen according to the
state of feeling at home, or left unordered. The determination mentioned in Mr. Amory's letter (which I gave above),
written  in  I765, to "give up all luxuries in dress," and
to  "use home manufactures," poor as they  must have
then been, had no shade of hesitation or fickleness in it,
and expressed a character and resolution that would carry
it into execution.  If, however, Mr. Eliot found coldness
and distrust, there is no record of it.  He avoided political discussion, and kept himself steadily to business. Early
and heavy responsibility had taught him prudence and selfcommand.
The note-book gives no sketches of persons or places;
it is simply a record of occupations, amusements, the kindness he received, the places he visited.  I wish he had been
* An interesting memoir of Mrs. Reed (Miss De Berdt), by her grandson, William B.
Reed, Esq., of Philadelphia (printed, but not published), gives a picture of a most lovely
and strong character, with sketches and anecdotes of her time. A notice is also given of
Mr. Sayre. This charming volume was printed in I853; and it would be well for the community if such pictures of high character and enduring patriotism could be made public.




32
less brief in some of his memoranda.  For instance, three
days after he arrived in London: "September I4, went
upon the Thames in the morning to see the* fire at Buxton
& Enderby's, thence to the King's Bench, to visit Mr.
Wilkes, with Messrs. Dickerson and Geyer, and we were
received with the most cordial expressions of regard."
"September 2oth. To the King's Bench, where dined
with Mr. Wilkes; spent the evening at home, writing to
Mrs. Eliot."
"26th.  Went to the West End of the town, saw Mr.
Pownal, and was kindly received."
A few particulars of these interviews might have been
curious now.  Mr. Wilkes, then in the midst of his resistance to the Government, was a special object of interest to
Mr. Eliot.
He left London the 29th of September, on a business
journey, going first to Nottingham, "where a Mrs. Roebuck, with whom Mr. Denison carried me to take tea,
inquired if the English language was the general language
of America.  The country is in general highly cultivated,
and I observe that their fields are ploughed in a serpentine
line, coming to a point at one end, so that each division
has the appearance of a cornucopia-: -they are the reality,
that the emblem." On his way to Glasgow, he merely
dined at Edinburgh, and says, "The road very rough and
bone-setting, being, as far as I could judge, a bad pavement
in  general.   The  houses, rather huts  or hovels, were
* Looking into the Annual Register for I769, I find that " Buxton & Enderby's " was
an oil-warehouse, on Paul's Wharf, and that it was wholly burnt, with many houses, a
large timber-yard, and two large lightermen. " During the fire the river seemed on fire
by the oil that poured into it from the repository. The oil consumed is valued at
~ 20,000." Many swans were destroyed. It was the "river on fire," the traveller went
to see.




33
such as gave me great pain, many of them being only a
pile of stones, without any cement, covered with sods or
turf, without any apparent door, window, or chimney. It
was impossible for me to avoid feeling grateful for my
infinitely better situation."
At Glasgow he was made a burgess of the city, and the
ceremony seems simple and quaint enough. After walking
about the city, he called on some of the merchants to
whom he had letters, and one of them expressed his regret
that, as it was Saturday, they could not make him a
burgess, because they probably could not find a magistrate.
A little later they seem to have caught one, for " soon after
my return to Mr. Brown's shop, I received a summons to
Mr. Keeley's inn. Was there introduced to Mr. John
Brown, a magistrate, and five other gentlemen. Madeira
was called for, and whilst we were drinking, Mr. J. Brown
presented me with my ticket of burgess, which was put
into the corner of my hat.*  I was then desired to sit
down with my hat on, and my health was drunk as a
burgess of the city of Glasgow."  This meeting was
between twelve and one o'clock, and in a very short time
four bottles of Madeira were disposed of. My ticket was
no expense to me, nor "was I suffered to bear my proportion of the tavern bill."
He invited the gentlemen to pass the evening with him,
but they declined. Five other gentlemen did visit him,
whose names he does not give; he ordered supper, and
called freely for Madeira, which, judging from the capacity
shown in the morning, was probably a liberal allowance,
and found afterwards, to his consternation, that the visitors would not allow him to bear even a portion of the
x The " three-cornered hat " of the time, - always so elegant.
5




34
expenses of the evening, "saying it was their custom."
These Scottish gentlemen were no niggards in drinking or
paying, apparently.  One feels a little curious to know
what was the advantage to a stranger of being a Glasgow
burgess, beyond drinking Madeira in the morning.
The next day he breakfasted with a Mr. and Mrs.
Elliot, and went with them to the Wynd Kirk, and in
the afternoon "walked to the back part of the town, to
what is called the High Kirk or Cathedral, where are three
places of worship, one so extreme dark and gloomy,*
that it is impossible almost in the brightest day that
the brightest sun ever furnished, to see your next seatmate. A most dreadful place in every respect. Such a
place, to sit out a long, solemn service in, would rather
tend to produce despair than hope..... There are some
few good faces and genteel persons, but in general, I never
saw so ill-dressed and ugly people. Had Milton lived in
Scotland, we should never have heard of' the human face
divine.'"
Glasgow was pretty well lighted, but it is noticed that,
"till within three years, lighting the lamps was not permitted on Sunday evenings."
Mr. Eliot's second visit to Edinburgh was as brief as
his first, for, arriving at five P. M., he left at seven, for
Newcastle, much disgusted with the little he saw, and the
much that he smelt, closing his account with: "If Edinburgh is derived from the garden of Eden, that garden
should have been a swamp, or much injustice is done to
it." At Leeds, he attended one of Stevens's Lectures upon
Heads, t and says: "The person and manners of Mr.
* The crypts,- where Osbaldistone met Rob Roy, - no doubt.
t A small volume lies before me, called Mirth and Song, with the following title-page:




35
Stevens graceful, and his lecture highly moral, and justly
satirical.   Have  scarcely  been  more  pleased  with  any
publick entertainment. Sat by the much-talked-of AntiSejanus, -  one James Scott, an  Episcopalian  preacher in
this place."
At his own request, Mr. Eliot was introduced to Dr.
Priestley, at Leeds, visited him several times, and met
him  at the houses of friends.   "That he is very sensible
is well known, and that he is polite and engaging in his
manners is equally certain.   He told me that he reverenced
the Americans, and from his whole manner, and from a
little pamphlet he gave me, it is evident he is heartily
engaged in the American cause." Dr. Priestley told him
that, for two  or three years, he had only  thirty  to  forty
pounds a year.
In  the news-room  of the inn  at Leeds, Mr. Eliot met,
one evening, a Mr. Gray, son of a nobleman, and a Member
of Parliament, who was inquisitive about America, and
talked of Mr. Otis, Mr. Cushing, and others.   "I quickly
let him   know  that I came  from  Boston, and  we entered
upon the subject of our late conduct, many parts of which
he blamed, and I defended. He told me he found me a
warm Bostonian, and that he thought it likely I should
defend  any  measures  that might be pursued  there."   I
believe it also, - so long certainly as he was with those who
were complaining of his countrymen. Immediately after
"Lecture upon Heads, written by George Alexander Stevens, Esq., and the Courtship,
with a collection of Approved Songs, Printed in Boston, for John Whiting, of Lancaster,
I804." The Lecture is divided into four parts, and appears to have resembled the entertainments that gave Mathews such reputation, and his audiences such enjoyment. There
are directions, interspersed: " [here show the example] "; "[shows the heads] ";
" [takes off that and shows the other] "; the third part " [discovers two ladies on the
stage.]" He ridicules fine gentlemen and ladies, oratory, law, and manners, with
anecdotes, and what is meant for sharp satire.




36
the account of this animated meeting, we come upon the
prices of calimancoes and camblets, the demand for shaloons, the value of tammies and serges, and the sales of
cloths on market-days. At Coventry he visited a manufactory of ribbons, where the figured were woven by hand,
and twelve yards could be made in a day.  "Of plain ribbons, woven by loom, ninety yards could be turned out in
a day!  Extreme curious and pretty."
Seeing, in this venerable Coventry, the image of a man
with his head and part of his body thrust out of an upper
window of a house, which was called " Peeping Tom," he
gives the story of Godiva with the addition, that at the
annual fair in the town a woman rides through the streets,
covered only with the skin of a beast,* decorated with ribbons, and followed by a grand procession of the city officers!
At Boulton's establishment, in Birmingham, even then
forming an attractive exhibition, Mr. Eliot met General
Paoli, at that time an object of great interest and respect
in England, as well as on the Continent, from the noble
manner in which he had governed the island of Corsica,
and defended- it against the French  for fourteen  years.
When it was at last subdued, in I769, General Paoli took
refuge in England, and died there in 1807.  He is described
as " about five feet ten inches high, - his countenance not
indicating anything uncommon, — his dress, a suit of
Parsons' gray, with a queue wig."
At Bath, the next stopping-place, he gives some statistical
items. Mr. Eliot found there his London friends, Mr.
and Mrs. Hayley, Mrs. Hayley being the sister of John
s When I first read this, it seemed to me incredible that, in civilized England, such a
vulgar exhibition could have been kept up till 1769, but on inquiry I found it was continued till I854, (and perhaps it still goes on,) the modern rose-colored stockinet taking
the place of "the skin of a beast, " so much more appropriate to the occasion.




37
Wilkes, the notorious radical of that day. They introduced him to the resorts and amusements of the city, which
is noticed as " perhaps the most beautiful city in England."
But he thought it a sadly expensive place.  "Mr. Hayley's
family, of six persons, costs him ~I5o for six weeks! "
He visited Gainsborough's studio, and speaks of him as
a capital portrait painter.  "His whole lengths cost eighty
or one hundred guineas.  I saw a number of fine pieces."
At the balls, " the minuet began at six o'clock; tea between
eight and nine, in the ball-room; left at ten. Two days of
Bath life were sufficient to tire me out."
At Oxford, he records, with great astonishment, that at
the Arundel Museum he was told that " the King of Spain
had offered ~ioo,ooo for four pieces of marble, of ordinary
appearance, which contained the original treaty between the
Greeks and Persians, after the battle of Marathon!"  He
saw also a small piece of marble, upon which a gentleman
of the University had labored three months, and had at
last discovered the nearly obliterated inscription to be the
"agreement with workmen for building the Temple of
Apollo at Delphos! " No wonder he was astonished.
Where are these venerable stones now?  Blenheim, Stowe,
Lord Temple's gardens are concisely mentioned, and it is
recorded that in the shady avenues of these gardens he saw
"Lord Temple, Lord Lyttelton, and Mr. Glover, the
author of Leonidas."
The six weeks' tour ended in London the 8th of November, and he closes a grateful paragraph on the comfort and
safety of the journey of eleven hundred miles with the
remark: " Nothing has been wanting but a friend, to
render my tour pleasant and agreeable."
A  fortnight in London was filled with business, and




38
intercourse with friends, and he was fortunate enough to
see Garrick in "The Jubilee," and in " Much Ado about
Nothing."  At Drury Lane he saw  "The Wonder, a
Woman keeps a Secret," and "The Padlock," the King
and Queen being present.
From the 22d of November to the 29th of December
(1769), Mr. Eliot made sundry business excursions to Norwich, Sheffield, Margate, and Canterbury, giving tokens in
his notes of quick and shrewd observation. At Norwich,
he was amazed at "the extreme bad grammar even the best
people are accustomed to speak in:' He think, he do, he
have, he believe.' They seem, by their conversation, to
have a mortal aversion to the letter s. Their language is
not only ungrammatical, but they clip the King's English,
being very fond of abbreviations;'brig' passes for'bridge,'
throughout the precinct."
In the intervals of these excursions, he enjoyed very
thoroughly, without doubt, sight-seeing, dinners, teas, and
suppers, at friends' houses, and at the coffee-house, after the
theatre. One evening he took tea with Mr. Wilkes, where
he met " Mr. Reynolds (Mr. Wilkes's attorney), and Mr.
Allen, father of the young man who was shot in St.
George's Fields," in the Gordon riots.
A visit to the House of Commons gave him a sight of
the King's robing and unrobing, and a long list is given of
the speakers he heard. Lord Clare, Sir George Saville,
Sergeant Glynne, Colonel Barre, and Lord North are the
best known names in the list.
On the I Ith of March Mr. Eliot dined " with Governor




39
Pownall, meeting Dr. Franklin, Mr. Monk, Mr. Bayard,
and Mr. Reed, of New York; sat down at five o'clock;
left at seven.  N. B.  The servant refused Ss. 3d. which
I offered him."
He heard Garrick recite his ode on Shakespeare, the
crowd being so great that he got in only through the kindness of one of the box-keepers.  Another evening he
heard the " Messiah" performed, "and was very heartily
fatigued. The singing of Mr. Tenducci very disagreeable
to me, though greatly celebrated; he put me in mind of
the terrible Italian Opera."  He saw the apartments in St.
James's Palace, and attended a service in its chapel, where
were the King and the Dukes of Gloucester and Cumberland.
On the 5th of March he went to the House of Commons
to hear a debate upon the Repeal of Duties, -a subject of
the deepest interest to Americans.  He was obliged to wait
in the lobby from one o'clock to five before he could get in,
and just after he was admitted, when Mr. Grenville rose to
speak, an order was given to clear the house, -a vexatious
disappointment, but his strong interest carried him back at
eleven P. M., to learn that " tea was not included in the
repeal, 204 against 142."   The only opera Mr. Eliot
heard, as far as I discover, was "The Olympiad," of which
he says merely that, being soon tired of it, he went away.
Windsor, Eton, Hampton Court, Greenwich, were all
visited, and rather full memoranda prove that he saw them
observingly, though he says, "Thus four or five hours
have been spent in viewing two palaces, which, to have
seen properly, would have required four or five days."
He remarks of "Anthony Venio's" paintings at Hampton
Court, that, "with the brilliancy of their coloring, their
boldness must be remarked."




4~
Here is a chance specimen of a London day. A part of
the morning was spent at Mr. Spragg's counting-room,
discussing buttons; then calls were made on three other
merchants or manufacturers; dinner taken with ten gentlemen at the New England Coffee House. In the afternoon
he saw Mr. Sayre, who invited him to go to Dover with
him, to electioneer for Mr. Trevanion (which he declined
to do); drank tea with one friend, supped with another,
and yet "passed the evening at home."  Friends were
always with him, and dinners, teas, and suppers were enjoyed at their different homes, or in their company at coffeehouses. Mr. Harrison, Mr. Denison, Mr. Dickerson, Mr.
and Mrs. Hayley, and others are constantly mentioned as
with him in sight-seeing, at theatres, and on excursions.
He knew the excellent Mr. De Berdt, but says nothing of
his daughter, afterwards Mrs. Reed, of Philadelphia.
Mr. Eliot kept his attention closely fixed on the course
of Government and the proceedings in Parliament, and once
was called upon by a Mr. Taleham, who asked him to
visit Sir George Osborne, to give information on American
affairs. Mr. Denison received a similar invitation, but
they both declined to go, as they were not accredited agents,
and other gentlemen were. They learned afterwards that
Sir George Osborne had nothing to do with the proposition. He was a nephew of Lord Halifax, who had just
been made Lord Privy Seal.
Dining one day at Mr. Hayley's he was told that Mr.
Sayre wished to meet him there that evening. He returned
to supper, and " on Mr. Sayre's mentioning to me the publication of Veritas, and desiring information with regard to
facts, I told him what I had written.  He desired a sight
of it, and, at his request, I left the original with him."  I




4I
do not know what the writing was, as this is the only reference to it.
To my father's temperament and tastes, this sort of life
must have  been  a source of keen  enjoyment and  very
strong  excitement.   But there was enough  in  the  state
of affairs between the two countries to create great anxiety
and require skilful management and constant watchfulness
by the merchant as well as the statesman. All business
arrangements  were  made  with  provisos:  certain  goods
were to be shipped only in case the Stamp Act was
repealed, or when the duties on tea, glass, and colors were
removed; and the actual condition of matters was such
that Mr. Eliot returned home without goods.
On the I4th of April, 1770, the young merchant took
leave of his kind friends in London, with much content, if
rhymes addressed to a wife may be believed.  I give a short
specimen  -
"To Albion's shores I bid a long adieu,
And fly with eager haste to love and you;
Soon do I hope to clasp in warm embrace
The fair, possess'd of every charm and grace.
"Happy the man possess'd of such a wife,
The joy, the comfort, and the balm of life!
In mutual love a bliss is very sure,
Which grandeur cannot give, nor wealth procure.
" If happiness we'd find,
It must be sought for in an easy mind;
Man's wants are few, and grant those wants supplied
Useless becomes whate'er we hold beside.
"Yet wealth is still with frantic zeal pursued,
Falsely considered as the greatest good;
This truth, eternal, claims my constant thought,
True bliss in virtue with success is sought,"
6




42
Friends were faithful to the last.  Five gentlemen accompanied him on his way to the ship at Margate, five others
joined him  there, while two remained with him  till the
vessel sailed. The weather was rough, and they anchored
in the Downs, which gave Mr. Eliot an opportunity to see
Sandown and Deal Castles. He describes them as " ancient
circular stone buildings."  On the i9th the ship got fairly
under way, and the last sight of- England was the illumination of Deal "on the enlargement of Mr. Wilkes,"a welcome sight no doubt to the traveller, whose admiration for the patriot was strong, and whose interest in him
had been naturally increased by intimacy with his sister,
Mrs. Hayley.
The voyage seems to have been rough and disagreeable.
It was not enlivened, as the previous passage had been, by
excursions to other vessels or by ocean dinner-parties;
and from the constant record of " head-winds and tumbling
seas," I am sure the cry of " Land! " on the 4th of June,
must have been a joyful sound.
On Rowe's Wharf, the fiftieth day from Margate, he
landed, and was welcomed by Mr. Barrell, Mr. Andrews,
and two of his cousins Eliot; and with this the diary ends.
We can easily imagine the sense of rest and content that
reigned in the modest home in Dock Square, in the first'
weeks of summer. Mr. Eliot had much to learn, much to
communicate. Every one was both politician and partisan,
and to get news of the state of affairs and the temper of
people in London, from an intelligent and shrewd observer,
-one who had every inducement to learn all he could, and




43
many facilities for gaining accurate information, -was the
object of a wide and eager desire. Mr. Eliot had been
eight months in England, constantly with that class of men
whose interest in the trade with America was strong enough
to make them keep a strict watch upon the movements of
Government in relation to the Colonies, while his acquaintance with Pownall, Wilkes, De Berdt, and others, gave him
access to early and exact information.  Eager questioners
and listeners must have often gathered in shop and parlor.
Two letters, written the next year, are the only record I
find of his thoughts at this anxious period, and therefore
I copy them.
"To Messrs. Thomas Harrison   and 7ohn Ansley, London.
"BOSTON, June i8, I77 I.
"DEAR SIRS, -  My return to America, without goods,
afforded me more leisure than my future life may ever see,
some part of which I frequently thought I should appropriate to the business of writing you, notwithstanding your
engagement to write me soon after my departure from
England. But, however unemployed, I was somehow or
other diverted from the executing of my purpose. I am
now, thank  Heaven, again engaged in the active scenes of
life, and my time totally taken up in the hurry of wholesale
and retail, cheap for cash, -  in opening goods, and writing
letters. Nevertheless, I could not excuse myself from
acknowledging the receipt of your favor, of March last, by
* I have no knowledge of the Harrison family, beyond the fact that there were three
brothers, - John, Gilbert, and Thomas. Mr. Eliot's respect and attachment for them must
have been very strong, for he named his second daughter for one of the Mrs. Harrisons,I do not know which. A life-size, half-length portrait of Mr. Gilbert Harrison hung
in Mr. Eliot's library.




44
the opportunity which the return of our worthy friend,
Mr. Gilbert Harrison, affords.
"The happy hours I spent in your company, and the
obliging civility I was treated with by you, made an impression on my mind which time will not efface..... I
observed what Mr. Ansley said respecting the Lord Mayor,
whose imprisonment, together with Mr. Oliver's, would
have been astonishing to us Americans, if anything could
have been so that the present Ministry do.  The commotions among the People, it was expected by many, would
have brought matters to a crisis, either freeing the Nation
from the encroachments which have been made upon its
liberties, or depriving it of those privileges which the
cursed spirit of slavery had not yet wrested from us.
"' But it looks as if matters were returning into their
former channels, and that no successful opposition is like
to be made.  If, after all the noise which has been heard on
the occasion, nothing is gained, much better would it be if
nothing had been said.  It is a saying, founded on truth
and experience, that a conquered Rebellion strengthens a
Government, which may be applied to every struggle of a
People with their rulers; if, after such struggle, they find
they have gained nothing, the end is worse to them  than
the beginning, as their weakness is proved, and the Minister's power confirmed hereby.  Never should a Nation
engage in open violence against bad governors, till they
are sure of success. Till that period arrives, they should
bear every imposition in a sullen state of inaction.
" But I will talk no more of Politicks, which I am very
thankful I have no business with.  I had rather go on in a
dog-trot, retailing tape and pins, lawns, cambricks, and
Irish linens, than be put in any dirty office or post of




45
Government.  I say dirty, because in these days there is
no office or post but what is so; and I say dog-trot, as I
do not expect to gallop to a fortune.
"Do write me, and let me know how matters and things
are with you. Are you married, or have you disclaimed all
connection with Hymen? Do you remember the Crown
in Bow Lane?  I positively would give ten guineas to pass
an evening there. Alas! what signifies wishing?  But I
do not despair of seeing my well-beloved friends in England
once more.
" Remember me very particularly to everybody in general, to Mr. Thomas Wilson in special, and believe me to
be, with real affection,
"Your sincere Friend,
" S. ELIOT."
"'To Mr. Thomas Mifflin, Philadelphia.
"BOSTON, August 26, 177I.
"MY DEAR FRIEND, - Had there been any prospect of
assisting Mr. Okeley in the sale of his edition of Serranus,
you should have heard from me fully on the subject long
ere this; but I have met with discouragement from those to
whom you directed me more particularly to apply. It has
been seen by Master Lovell, of the South Grammar School,
in this Town, and by my Uncle Eliot, who were both of
opinion that it would by no means do to introduce it, when
so many better authors were already in use. They were
pleased with it, as a specimen of the learning and piety of
the writer.  Master Lovell noted particularly a version of
the Lord's Prayer, with which he was much gratified.
The book has been left, as you desired, with the President




46
of Harvard College, whose sentiment of it is entirely coincident with the gentlemen's above mentioned.
".... You conclude in a very melancholy manner,
predicting the continuance of American slavery, unless a
war should effect our freedom. The appearances of war
have blown over, and the prospect has been gradually
growing more and more gloomy, as the Ministry are daily
acquiring firmness and stability.  But a truce to Politicks.
Our situation is too bad to be dwelt upon.
" I should have advised you fully upon Dobel's affair,
had not Mr. Barrell wrote you so largely thereon. I hope
for the honour of our native Town that the matter has been
cleared up, and that you do not suspect him to have been
guilty of the villany that has been charged against him.
We live in an age in which everything is to be feared from
the baseness and roguery of many around us, and I believe
a few years last past have furnished such instances of
villanous conduct as will be a perpetual disgrace to the
annals of Mankind.'".... I may not omit to tell you that Mrs. Eliot —
who desires her best regards to Mrs. M. and yourselfhas lately presented me with a fine boy, whose life is the
object of my earnest wishes.  From  the sad experience I
once had of the loss of a child, I dread the thought of
another separation.
".... I am, with the warmest wishes for the happiness
of Mrs. Mifflin,
"Your assured Friend,
"S. ELIOT."
The little child, whose birth brought such tremulous joy,
lived only long enough to give new teachings from happiness




47
and sorrow.  A heart-broken  letter to  Mrs. Harrison,
written September 30, 1772, tells her of little Charles's
death from measles, on the 3oth of August, when he was
fourteen months old:
" Previous to the disorder which tore our darling from
us, he appeared in better health and spirits than in the
more early period of his life.  But the pleasing prospect
was soon removed, the measles appeared upon him, and he
is no more!  Pity us, Mrs. Harrison, for the hand of
God hath touched us.  Mrs. Eliot is bowed down with
affliction.... You have, enclosed, a few lines wrote by
Phillis Wheatley.  A former production of hers I sent
you some time ago."
To Mr. Harrison my father wrote, that the death of this
little boy made him feel that he had not till then known
what sorrow was.  The trouble that first teaches us that
lesson breaks, as it were, into the citadel of life; the same
defences never are ours again, -the breach is concealed by
the multiplied movements of life, and its duties, that cluster
about us to cheer and to strengthen; but whole heartedness is not again possible. To how many is this experience first taught by the death of children! These parents
were again childless, and great was their grief.
For the next few years I know of no incidents or changes
in the life in Dock Square.  In public affairs, and in the
feelings of the people, it was an agitated and momentous
period; but as Mr. Eliot still kept aloof from action or
discussion in politics, their influence was on his character,
and not on his position.  He had felt the sting of poverty,
and a heavy weight of responsibility for others, too recently
to allow anything, not strictly in the line of duty, to interrupt his steady course.  I give a few letters written at this
time.




48
T''o ohn Harrison, Esq., London.
"BOSTON, December II, I773.
"DEAR SIR, -However unworthy I may appear of
being honored with your correspondence, from my long
silence, and other reasons, yet give me leave to assure you
there are few persons in the world with whom I so earnestly
wish to keep up a correspondence as with my good friend,
Mr. John Harrison. You will, with great appearance of
reason, reply, that my language and conduct are not of a
piece. To which I would request your permission to answer, as an apology for my behavior, that the calls of
business have been, this summer and fall, such as have
demanded my peculiar attention, from the sickness and
confinement of my oldest apprentice, now in the last and
best year of his life. Having only two young lads with
me, my whole soul has been occupied by Irish linens, lawns,
and cambricks, of which articles, by the way, I did not
import half enough. Every moment has been devoted to
my shop, and (please tell Mr. Gilbert Harrison) to the
store in Wilson's Lane.*
"Thus much by way of porch.  Have I made it large
enough to admit the great Mr. Eliot, retailer of tape and
pins at his shop near the head of Dock Square, and
wholesale dealer at his store in Wilson's Lane?
"I perfectly agree with you in the opinion, that the
measure of the iniquities of Government is not yet full
enough to justify a very forcible opposition.  It is, nevertheless, incumbent on the People of England to watch with
a jealous eye the motions of an arbitrary Ministry, who, it
* The wholesale department.




49
is most certain, are, from year to year, gaining ground on
that Constitution which is the glory of human nature, as
considered capable of government, and a state of society.
What think you of Mr. Hutchinson's Letters, and the Resolutions of the Court thereon? And what do you say, my
good Sir, to the measures of the Ministry, by which the
merchants of London are deprived of an opportunity of
putting three and a half per cent in their pockets, and that
upon a very large sum? An exclusive right should rather
be diminished than enlarged, as the free spirit of that noble
Dame Commerce abhors all restraint, and can no more take
up her abode in an arbitrary state than a Sydney or a
Locke in an Asiatic Court.
"You see and hear enough of the proceedings of this
Town on the arrival of the tea. It is not for me to approve
or'censure. I have been very moderate in politicks, - or
rather, I have not meddled with them at all.  I had rather be
behind my counter than in the forum; but at the same
time I ardently wish the preservation and continuance of
the constitutional liberty of my country, and would do all
in my power, in a proper way, to support it.
" I am glad to hear you have recovered from your late
attack of the gout, and hope your health will be better
established in future.
"....  Will you oblige me with another letter? Do,
Mr. Harrison, and believe me to be, with the most perfect
respect and esteem,
" Your sincere Friend,
cc S. ELIOT."
7




5~
"'To Mr. Nat. Harris, London.
"BOSTON, December II, I773.
" MY VERY DEAR FRIEND, -You might very well judge
that the tender feelings of human nature were never
bestowed upon me, or that I had suffered a total privation
of them, should I omit to acknowledge, by a very early
opportunity, the receipt of your very pleasing epistle of
the 20th July, -pleasing as a proof of that affectionate
regard, of which I had many instances whilst in England.
I shall never forget the friendship of the house of Smith,
Harris, & Hatfield, much less the attachment which you, to
my honor, was pleased to manifest.
".... When  I mention sensibility and the tender
feelings of our nature as blessings, I am well aware of being
opposed in the sentiment by many of the stoical sons of
Earth, who contend that the pleasures of quick perception
are by no means equivalent to the pains we must bear
therefrom.  But those who are not endued with this sensibility can never be admitted as competent judges in
this matter.  Lee has somewhere said,' There is a pleasure in madness that none but madmen feel.' I shall not
undertake to discuss the merits of this position, but I
think I may with modesty assert that'those who are
tremblingly alive all o'er' are in a state upon which the
man of a callous mind cannot pass judgment, being disqualified by nature or his own fault.  The pleasures of
the former are such as the latter intermeddleth not with.' Our joys and sorrows, sure, are near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.'
" Alas! My friend, the dance of joy and the tear of sor



51
row succeed each other with a swiftness equal to the flight
of time. We can scarce finish, or even begin, a congratulation but we are arrested by a tale of woe!  I will not dwell
on the subject, and shall only say that these ideas  strongly
remind me of the excellent advice of a much-neglected
though admirably fine writer; you anticipate me in naming
St. Paul, whose  language  is:'Rejoice  as  though  ye  rejoiced not, and weep as though ye wept not.'
" You mention our Governor [Hutchinson]. That gentleman, in the  last Session  of the General Court but one,
forced upon them the discussion of a subject which should
never have  been  brought into  view.    The  question  he
very imprudently agitated was,' Whether the Colonies
were bound by Acts of Parliament?'  Long were the
Speeches and Messages of the Viceroy on the occasion,
and lengthy the Answers and Replies of the House. You
will not expect me to determine upon the merits of either.
I very heartily wish that Prudence had been of his Privy
Council, when he was judging of the propriety of touching
upon such a point.
"Scarce  were  the  ruffled  spirits  of the  People  a  little
composed, when fresh fuel for a new flame was produced
in certain  letters * returned  from   England, written by Mr.
* It is a familiar fact that Mr. Hutchinson, while Governor of the Massachusetts
Colony, wrote to his Government urging alterations in the Charter and other most unpopular measures, and that these letters were obtained and printed by Dr. Franklin.  In
consequence, the people demanded the removal of Governor Hutchinson, which, though
refused by the King and Council nominally, was soon yielded to, and General Gage was
appointed in his place.  Governor Hutchinson had a beautiful place on Milton Hill,
and many years later told an American gentleman, who visited him in London, and found
him in very low spirits, that he often wished himself back on his porch enjoying that
lovely view.
In the matter of the tea, the East India Company had stated to the Government that,
if they would remove the import duty of threepence a pound, the Company would pay sixpence on exportation i; but this proposition was refused.




52
Hutchinson.  But as these letters have appeared in your
papers, you must be acquainted with their operation here.
I shall say nothing further of them.
" Our troubles were not to end here. An infatuated Ministry, ever intent upon planning schemes of malevolence
against the Colonies, finding the Tea Act evaded by the
total disuse of British tea, in the Southern Colonies, at
least, - very wisely took it into their heads to force it down
our throats.  They accordingly commissioned the India
Company to export the baneful herb.  Three hundred
chests are arrived here; but believe not that the people will
ever suffer it to be sold.  We have heretofore unwisely
imported tea into this port, upon which the hated duty
has been paid, which furnishes those who are inimical to
the movement to prevent the sale of the Company's tea
with an argument against us.  For, say they, it makes no,
difference to the community whether the duty is paid by
the gentlemen to whom- the importation is consigned, or
by those who have hitherto been the importers of the
article.
" There is some appearance of reason in this talk.  But
still there is a manifest difference between our importing
and paying the duty of our own free will and accord, and
having the Ministry force it thus upon us. Their language
is,' If you will not import it yourselves, we will take care
you shall not be without it, and more especial care that the
duty is collected on it.' Must not the veriest slave revolt
at such treatment?
" These villanous politicks have left me little room, and
I have many things yet to say to the friend I hold most
dear.  Mrs. Eliot thanks Mr. and Mrs. Harris for their
kind invitation to England, and so do I.  I cannot but




53
hope I shall once more see my dear friends in that country.
We join in the most fervent prayers for the health, happiness, and prosperity of you both.
"I am, with unalterable regard, my dear Mr. Harris,
"Your sincere Friend,
"S. ELIOT."
"To Mr. Tom MiJflin, Philadelphia.
"BOSTON, March 28, X 774.
"DEAR TOM, -You tell me I am angry, or I should
have answered the letters you forwarded by Palfrey and
Gorham.  This, perhaps, is a conclusion not deducible
fairly from my silence, since many circumstances might
occur that might make it, if not impossible, at least inconvenient, to write. Permit me to say, without the impulse
of any angry passion, that I should suppose you judged
me to be out of temper from  consciousness that I had
sufficient reason, and in compliance with an Apostolic direction,' Be ye angry.' Now, if St. Paul, who was, to say
the least, a sensible man, thought it was necessary to direct
us to be angry, I can have no doubt of the propriety, nay,
necessity of it, upon certain miserable occurrences in this
miserable world.
".... I believe it has been said,' Keep not company
with an angry man,' the justice of which advice I would by
no means controvert; but at the same time I trust I shall
not discredit my judgment by saying that I will never
choose for my companion one who is totally unsusceptible
of the passion, if such an one is to be found.
" I am much obliged by the venison sent by Gorham, -as
much, most certainly, as if it had come to hand in the best




54
order, instead of not reaching me at all.  I am  also greatly
indebted to you for the repeated trouble you have had with
the wine. Your directions shall be strictly complied with
in the management of it when landed.
"You have herewith Mr. Hancock's oration, which you
may possibly like to see.  That your happiness may be as
lasting as your existence is the earnest wish of
"Your sincere Friend,
"S. ELIOT."
"'o Mr. William  Barrell.,' BOSTON, July 18, 1774.
"DEAR  BILLY, —   I find by your letters to  Mr. Andrews, as well.as from those few I have received from you,
that my infrequency of writing is not pleasing.  I am sorry
you should think you have any just cause of complaint,
though your displeasure is in itself obliging, - which ought
to increase my concern.  But separate from  the avocations
of business, I do assure you, I have not only a dislike of
writing, but very forcible reasons of a private nature induce my silence.
"At this time, however, it may be incumbent on me to
give you some account of my conduct, as far as it relates
to the publick. You are very sensible that my plan has
been to  lead  a retired  private  life, unembarrassed  with
Politicks and the disputes of the day.  But matters have
proceeded so far with us, that it is become impossible to
adhere to such a system.  The villanous Port Bill, * and
* The Port Bill closed the harbor of Boston from all commerce. The other two Bills
referred to are probably, one by which the appointment of all officers for the Colony
was vested in the Crown, subverting the Charter; and one which provided that all
capital offences committed in Massachusetts should be tried in some other Colony, or in




two other bills much more alarming, and the measures that
have been taken here in consequence led me to step forth
to publick view. What more immediately caused my engaging was a Solemn League and Covenant being proposed
by our Committee of Correspondence, by which the People
engaged to purchase no goods imported after the 3Ist
August.  The Covenant was an emendation from  that
which was originally fabricated, that struck at the sale of
all goods after the Ist of October, whenever received, and
put a final period to the sale, though no possible advantage
could result therefrom.  It is unnecessary for me to enlarge, as you will find the subject very amply handled in
the papers enclosed.
" I would by no means have you imagine that I was
prompted by a foolish fondness of appearing in a publick
character, or that interest solely actuated and directed me
on this occasion.  Had I attended very closely to the latter
principle, I had still remained inactive, since you will readily
judge, that by endeavoring to stem the popular torrent, and
opposing a committee who, with great pertinence, might
take for their motto, Nemo me impune lacessit, I must
run a great risque of popular odium, incompatible with my
commercial hopes and prospects. This, you will see, has
had little influence, and however prudent or otherwise, I
could not restrain my indignation at the arbitrary and
tyrannic proceedings of those who would have the world
consider them as the patrons and advocates of liberty.  My
patriotism and zeal for constitutional freedom and consistency urged me to combat the most pernicious measure that
could be conceived and executed.
England. Both these bills were passed in 1774, the Government seeming to ignore the
fact that English blood ran in the veins, and that English spirit would stimulate the action
of the Colonists.




"I determined, if possible, to deliver my sentiments in
Town Meeting, in order to which I made minutes of what
I purposed to say. The substance of these minutes being
impressed on my mind, it was not necessary for me to have
much recourse to them, and I found myself able to speak
with tolerable firmness, and what was said was well enough
received by the people. You have it in the paper marked
No. I. You will notice a protest against the conduct of
the Committee, by which you will find that a Motion was
made to censure and dismiss them. This Motion was very
precipitately made by Mr. Gray, and it totally precluded
what I wished might take place, -a suspension of the
Covenant till the sentiment and determination of the Congress could be obtained. They were the proper body to
agitate the important question of Non-Consumption, and to
them it ought to have been referred.  Notwithstanding I
was against this Motion, yet as I had opposed the Committee, I was obliged to vote with those who made it. I say I
was against the Motion, not because it was wrong in itself,
but because it was impolitick, not being at all likely to
obtain, and having a tendency to irritate, which I would
wish to avoid as far as duty would permit.
".... I must guard against your supposing that my
ideas are opposed to a Committee of Correspondence subsisting among us. Very far am I from the remotest wish
of an entire dissolution.
".... I cannot conclude  without assuring  you
(though I trust it is in a good degree unnecessary) that, as
I have formerly made a great sacrifice of private interest to
the freedom and liberty of my country, I am now equally
disposed to do all in my power to promote the happiness of
the People.  I am animated with the most fervent regard




57
to the Constitution of this Province, and I will engage
with alacrity, and adhere with firmness and resolution, to
any feasible plan to restore and perpetuate it to the latest
posterity.
"Tell Mr.      that I wrote him immediately after the
receipt of the wine, sent in the spring.  I hope he duly
received it. Believe me to be
"Your sincere Friend,
" S. ELIOT.
" Note well, Billy, that my opposition has been confined
to the Covenant, and not to a Non-Consumption Agreement. Let a Non-Consumption Agreement be adopted by
the other Colonies, in conjunction with this, upon a proper
basis, - if I do not acquiesce and heartily promote it, may
I meet those censures I shall justly deserve."
" To Mr. Mifflin, Philadelphia.
"BOSTON, August I3th, I774.
" DEAR TOM, -.... You observe that your silence has
been occasioned by your total attention to Politicks, of which
it appeared to you I had taken a solemn leave. I acknowledge the truth of your apprehension on this head.  I have
not thought the times such, and the situation of things
with us, adapted to my small exertions.  I have, nevertheless, stood ready to assist in any well-grounded and wellplanned opposition to the arbitrary, tyrannical, and cruel
measures of Government. I feel myself animated by a
true abhorrence of slavery in every form; and consistency
of character and conduct, which I hold a prime virtue
(but in which we are generally shamefully defective), must
lead me to oppose domestick as well as foreign tyranny.
8




"This brings me, as a Parson would say, directly to the
point. You do not like the Protest.  I am sorry for it,
but I cannot see it in the light in which it appears to you,
and I still judge it capable of the fullest vindication.  I
think I may safely declare, that I have not been very
tenacious of my sentiments and opinions, but have been
ready to adopt other principles, when convinced that my
own deviated from the line of Truth. My mind is open to
conviction, and I shall bless the friendly hand that shall
show me my errors, and point to the path I ought to
tread.
" I have mentioned consistency as a virtue. How came
you, then, it may be inquired, to depart from your plan,
and step forth as an opposer of a measure calculated to
serve your country, to which you profess yourself a zealous
friend?  It was my zeal to promote the publick good. A
Non-Consumption Agreement may at a proper period, and
under reasonable terms and conditions, be expedient.  But
the time in which the Covenant was promulgated, and the
conditions of it, were such as rendered it inadmissible,
unless the surrender of liberty, the sacrifice of property,
and everything justly dear to man, are desirable. When a
measure of such pernicious tendency was proposed, and its
execution pushed by means incompatible with the Constitution, to have remained a silent spectator, - to have
remained behind the scenes, - would have rightly incurred
the curses of the present and future generations.....
" But why protest?  Cui bono?  The CQvenant was at
this time circulating in the Country, unadopted by many
Towns. It became us, then, to manifest publickly our disapprobation, in the hope it might influence to a rejection
where it had not already obtained.  It might, at least, put




59
the People upon consideration, - highly desirable in every
circumstance of life.  Measures rashly engaged in are not
likely to be steadily adhered to, and those whose firmness
may be expected are those who deliberate before they act.
Deliberation, in this case, infallibly secured the People from
engagements which ought not to take place.
"You mention the effect of the Protest at Westminster.
I think it will have the happiest influence. When it is
observed that opposition is made to a domestick plan,
because it is repugnant to the rights, liberties, and privileges
of the People, must it not lead them to conclude us consistent sons of Freedom?  They may justly argue, that
we do not oppose their arbitrary principles from a dislike
of the Government of Great Britain, but from an inbred
aversion to tyranny, and that we are determined to burst
the slavish bonds of an American demagogue, as well as
the fetters of a British despot.  Must not the exhibition
of such a spirit place us in the first rank of the votaries of
liberty, and raise us to be esteemed zealous, firm, and steadfast in two cases?  This, Tom, is by no means a highstrained deduction, but the result of reason and common
sense.
"I hope I have said enough to convince you that
I have not deserted the Whig interest, as some among
you, it seems, have asserted.  I trust you will think
yourself authorized to contradict the aspersion, which I am
obliged by your having done already.  Heaven and my
own heart absolve me from a wish inimical to the interests
of this American world, and I solemnly declare, that as far
as I know myself, I am disposed to engage in any measure
calculated to relieve us from the subjugation which has
taken place, and which is further endeavored against us.  I




6o
will exert my every power to establish the Liberty and Constitution of my Country, referring to my former conduct
for the reality, and proof, of my present professions.
" I thank you for your invitation, which the situation of
things will not admit my complying with, and I have little
expectation you will be able to make a journey here. Your
political and commercial connections will, I fear, confine
you to Philadelphia. Farewell.
" Believe me your sincere Friend,' S. ELIOT."
"Pray observe that my arguments are confined to the
Protest to which I put my name."
This "League and Covenant," which Mr. Eliot vigorously opposed, bound the subscribers "not to purchase or
consume any imported goods after the 3ISt of August; to
break off all commerce, trade, and dealing with any who did,
and with any who imported goods; to renounce all intercourse and connection with any who refused to sign the
Covenant, and to publish their names to the world." This
sounds despotic and violent enough to have come from Lord
North, instead of from those who were resisting just such
tyranny, and opposition to it seemed natural and right; yet
it appears that some persons supposed my father was leaning more towards the English Government than to his own.
"T o Mr. Nat. Harris, London.
"BoSTON, August I5, I774.
"DEAR SIR, - Your favour of the 20oth March was
received with peculiar satisfaction, as indeed were all those
with which you have been pleased to furnish me. I am




6i
greatly obliged by the solicitude you express for me under
the difficulties the Port Bill involves us in.  I can truly
say I have a great regard for your judgment, but I cannot
join with you in thinking that shutting up our Harbor was
the most lenient measure that could have been adopted.  I
would by no means have you imagine that the destruction
of the tea was, in my opinion, a proper thing; far from it.
But could no means have been devised that should have
separated the innocent from  the guilty?  I acknowledge
that in many instances it is very difficult to make a discrimination; but in the punishment we are now sustaining,
has not the Minister run so fast as to lose sight of justice
and equity?
" Among what People was it ever heard that conviction preceded trial?  Has this Town been furnished with
any opportunity of justifying its conduct?  Or, admit the
difficulty of complete justification, had we been allowed
a hearing, many circumstances might have been produced
to view that would have lessened the apparent criminality
of our doings.
" This may also be applied to the two Acts lately arrived
among us, which totally alter our Constitution secured to
us by Charles. Perhaps no Acts of Parliament were ever
so despotick and arbitrary in their principles, and so cruel in
their operation. To deprive a whole People of their rights
and privileges, which they claim as men, and to which they
have an additional title in this Province by the faithful
performance of a contract, is too much to be submitted to.
From the appearance of things amongst us, there is no
great probability they will have any force. The most
resolute determination animates all ranks of men to prevent their taking effect.  Several gentlemen have taken




62
the oath as Councillors upon the new Establishment, who
have become exceedingly obnoxious in consequence.
"This was the work of a few days last past, and, therefore, I cannot advise you of the reception they meet in the
Towns to which they belong. Those of them who are resident here are abundantly secured by an army and navy, to
whom I wish sincerely better employ. It is thought the
Governor will call an Assembly in October, but I believe
the House, whenever it shall meet, will refuse to do business with a Mandamus Council. A Jury may possibly be
found in this Town who will not refuse to act agreeably to
the new regulations, but in the country such men will not
be easily procured.  Had it not been for the Acts last
mentioned, something might have been done towards opening the port.
" You may wish to know my situation.  I still continue
in this town, and my business, since the Ist of June, has
been greater than I had reason to expect, miserably obstructed as we are. As this letter is filled with Politicks,
just observe that what dwells in the heart is apt to flow
from the pen. This by the way of apology. You cannot
wonder at our concern.  Our very existence depends on the
controversies of the present moment.
"Mrs. Eliot joins me in acknowledging the kindness of
your invitation, which we cordially wish we could accept.
That cannot be. Be persuaded then to visit America, with
Mrs. Harris in your hand. A hearty welcome is the most
I can promise you.
" I wish you every happiness, and am, dear Sir,
"Your very sincere Friend,
" S. ELIOT."




63
"'To Mr. John Harrison, London.
"BOSTON, September I5, 1774.
"DEAR SIR, - I duly received your obliging favour of
the 3Ist March, and, notwithstanding your apprehension
that, as a Bostonian, I might not approve some expressions
you make use of, yet give me leave to assure you that a
real opposition to my sentiments, if conducted with decency, is rather pleasing than otherwise.  Every man has
an undoubted right to form his own opinions, and it has an
appearance of honesty and sincerity to manifest a different
way of thinking from those with whom we converse. I
have no conception of a more disagreeable state than that
in which we must conceal our religious and political notions
with care and circumspection.  The interests of truth must
fall a sacrifice to such villanous observance of times and
seasons.
"I should gladly excuse myself from touching upon
Politicks, did I not suppose you anxious to know the circumstances in which we are. The shutting up of our Port
was a measure of extreme severity, and the two subsequent
Acts, totally altering our Constitution, were not dictated by
Justice or Policy.  I say Justice, as the punishing a whole
People, without the least appearance of a trial, I cannot
but consider as utterly subversive of the principles of the
British Government, as well as repugnant to our rights as
men; and I say Policy, as I think it very impolitic to
adopt plans which it might have been foreseen could
never be executed among those who are animated by as
high a sense of liberty as perhaps human nature is capable of.




64
"You will observe that I do not mean to insinuate that
our conduct, in every instance, has been such as I could
wish. A complete justification I do not contend for. All
that I expect or desire is to make you sensible, that we
have been treated with a degree of rigour much beyond our
deserts. And I am persuaded that the event will prove
that it would have been much wiser to have proceeded upon
a more moderate plan.
" I shall not undertake to give a detail of the steps that
have been taken to prevent the execution of the late Acts,
as the newspapers you will receive with this will furnish the
fullest information.
" I have been greatly undetermined as to the expediency
of having fall goods ever since the arrival of the fatal
Port Bill, as you may have perceived from the letters your
House has received from me. My difficulty has not arisen
so much from the decline of my sales, as from the state in
which it was likely we should be. Some matters which I
formerly mentioned as likely to take place have actually
come to pass, -such as the shutting up our Courts of
Justice, &c. A Non-Consumption Agreement has been
proposed here, and I think the Congress now sitting at
Philadelphia will adopt it, or, in its stead, a Non-Importation.  Some few are for trying the effect of the Congress
before they meddle with the business; but it is certain the
voice of the People is in favour of an immediate stoppage.
" I much wish that such prudent and wise measures may
be adopted as may terminate in our deliverance from our
present miserable condition, and such as may once more
firmly unite Great Britain and America, - a union highly
desirable for the interests of both countries.
" You will please to deliver a letter you have herewith to




Mr. Ray, and asking you to remember me to all your
friends, your sister Harrison in special, to whom I shall
soon write, I remain, dear Sir, your obliged
"Friend and Servant,
"S. E."
The winter following this troubled and threatening summer, i774-75, was a mournful and anxious one to all in
Boston.  The interruption of trade gave sad leisure for
watching the course of the Government in England and
the temper of the people here; and my father's tendency
to anxiety found strong excitement in the increasing aggravation and alienation. Amongst other measures that inflamed the righteous anger of the people, a bill for quartering soldiers in the houses of the citizens of Boston was
passed by Parliament. If this insolent design had been
put in execution, I think the home in Dock Square would
have been instantly broken up.
Dr. Ephraim Eliot, in his short sketch, gives an anecdote
that belongs to this time.
"For many years Mr. Eliot's family resided in this
house (in Dock Square), every part of which was often
crowded with goods, leaving scarcely room for sleeping.
About the commencement of the Revolutionary War, the
building was offered for sale, and he had the refusal of it.
He was in great tribulation, and sought the advice of his
uncle, Reverend Andrew Eliot, who advised him to buy it.' But I cannot command the money to pay for it, Sir.''Well, you have goods; have you not?''Yes, Sir; but
I am afraid to let people know it.''Well,' said Dr. Eliot,'buy it for me, Sam, if you won't buy it for yourself, -
at all events, buy it.' Sam chose to buy it for himself, and,
9




66
as he afterwards said, paid for it with a mere armful of
goods."
What an Iexpression of trouble, irritation, and determination, in the feelings of the people, is conveyed by this
fear of having it known that he had goods!
Public affairs rapidly approached a crisis. The prevailing
deep indignation found voice at Lexington and Concord in
the early spring, and from that time there could have been
little comfort in Boston.  We cannot estimate what it was
to the patriotic opponents of unjust oppression to be in
constant contact with rough and rude soldiers, and
haughty officers, who probably thought these absurd and
insolent rebels fit only to be treated like insubordinate
school-boys.  It is wonderful that conflicts like that in
State Street did not often occur, and that they did not occur
is one of the strong proofs of the manly self-control and
wise foresight of our noble ancestors.  They reserved
strength and indignation for larger opportunities.
More troops were sent to Boston; a military guard was
stationed on the Neck, -the only means of access to the
town, except by ferries, -and two regiments were encamped
upon the Commori.  What melancholy days for a small
community of intelligent, resolute men and women, estimating well and valuing deeply their rights and liberties,
and now realizing that violence would be used to bring
them to obedience!
Mr. Eliot felt that it was indispensable to find a more
safe and tranquil residence, at least, for some months.  His
inclinations and tastes would have carried him to England,
where many friends found shelter; but, besides a halfestrangement from that hitherto much loved land, he had
neither funds there, nor sufficient here, to incur the risk.




67
Halifax, as being the nearest outpost of England, supposed
to be still in quiet submission, was therefore chosen as the
refuge, and, the goods being carefully arranged and the house
closed, Mr. and Mrs. Eliot, with Mrs. Eliot's sister, Mrs.
Andrews, left Boston in the middle of May. Another
note-book gives the following history:"Monday, May i5th, I775. At five o'clock this afternoon, embarked, with Mrs. Eliot and Mrs. Andrews, on
board the schooner Halifax, under protection of Captain
Le Tooch and Captain Haynes.  We put off from the
wharf, and anchored just below the Preston man-of-war,
where we remained the night.
" i6th. At five o'clock this morning came to sail, and
proceeded with little wind to Deer Island, from where we
took three boat-loads of stones, in order to put our vessel
in better trim, which was loaded too much astern. Went
on shore here with Mr. Hill and Captain Haynes. Afterwards went to Stebbing's Island, and the island just above,
but could procure no live stock, an article we were in
quest of. About three o'clock came to sail, —wind at
southeast, which brought on a tumbling sea, and great
sickness among the ladies. Wind freshened in the evening, which increased the distress of the cabin passengers.
" I7th. Rose at five o'clock, and found Mrs. Eliot and
Mrs. Andrews very sick and very low, — Mrs. E.'s distress
so great as to lead her ardently to desire to be set on shore
at Marblehead, where about nine o'clock it was determined
we should go, though we were almost up with Cape Anne.
But the wind was still contrary, and Captain Le Tooch,
desirous of meeting Mr. Graves, who sailed about an hour
before us, decided to touch at Marblehead.  I endeavored
to persuade Mrs. E. to give up all thought of stopping




68
here, but being apprehensive that she could not sustain the
voyage, we landed at three, and put up at the house of Mr.
Sanders, my own plan being to proceed to Halifax. But
we had not been long ashore, before we were visited by Mr.
Hooper, Mr. Balch, and Mr. Wheatley, who gave us such
alarming accounts of publick affairs at the place we were
bound to, that Mr. Hill and myself determined to stop
here for the present, provided we could get out of the
schooner a few of the many necessaries we had on board.
Upon our return to the vessel, we found the wind fair, and
it was with difficulty we could persuade Captain Le Tooch
to stop a moment.  Our earnest entreaties, however, prevailed, and in about an hour, we hoisted out our trunks,
and a few other articles, amidst a scene of the most violent
hurry, agitation, and confusion, and we relanded about
eight o'clock. Thus ended this unfortunate expedition,
which has been attended, from the beginning, by many
disagreeable circumstances, and in conclusion we were
obliged to leave considerable provisions, furniture, &c., to
be carried on to Halifax. We were happy in one material
point, in our short abode in the vessel,  the politeness
and humanity of officers and men. Our company consisted of Mr. A. Hill and family, a son of Captain Gay, and
several female passengers.
" Ig9th. Employed the forenoon preparing and shipping
the trunks, &c., for Newbury Port. Mr. Balch passed the
evening with us.
"20th. Visited by Mr. Payne and wife, who came on
purpose to see us, and tarried dinner with us."
On the i6th, being still at Marblehead, Mr. Eliot notes,
that he went with his landlord in a chaise about the country,
to procure some provisions for Dr. Andrew Eliot and Mr.




69
Andrews, who were shut up in Boston, where food was very
scarce, the country people not being willing to carry supplies, partly, no doubt, from a patriotic unwillingness to
aid the soldiers, and partly from a natural fear of annoyance from them.
They succeeded in  procuring  " a fine salmon, three
fowls, a quarter of veal, and four pounds of butter," - not
an immense supply for two households.
The people of Marblehead, when the vindictive Port
Bill was inflicted upon Boston, with a generous spirit of
sympathy and kindliness, offered to her merchants the
free use of one of their wharves   an offer gratefully
accepted.
The ship Minerva, Capt. Callahan,* was lying there,
bound to London, waiting for her passengers, who were
flying from the evil to come. I copy again from the notebook: --
" 27 May, Marblehead. Up at five o'clock, went on
board ship, returned at half-past eight. At nine Callahan
is under sail, and they take their departure, with a fine easy
gale at Southwest. The passengers are Mr. Green and lady,
[Mrs. Eliot's uncle and aunt], Mr. John Amory t and
lady, Mrs. Copley and three children, Mrs. Jackson, Mr.
S. Quincy, Mr. Balch, Mr. D. Green, Mr. Sears, Mr.
Meyrick, of the navy, and Mr. Isaac Smith.  Thus, by
the departure of the Minerva, a total period is put to all
my hopes of visiting England at this time, which last week
I thought I should have accomplished, and had gone so far
as to have my trunks ready for the voyage. Disappoint*Capt. Callahan was the grandfather of Mr. Edward and Mr. Charles Perkins, and of
Mrs. Henry Cleveland.
t Mr. Eliot's former " masterl."




70
ment is the lot of man, and has been peculiarly my fate,of late.  Upon  the breaking up  of the Halifax.visit,
Callahan  still in  the harbor, I thought, myself secure.
Perhaps it may be best I should tarry,* and I must endeavor
to be patient, and be resigned to what I now consider a
misfortune.  Went to Salem, to engage a coach to take. us
to Newbury-Port.
"Attende  the preaching of Mr. Storey, and between
meetings attempted to go on board the Lively, with Mr.
John Gallison, to procure letters from London, by Captain
Hill, who-arrived this morning, but finding it disagreeable
to the people,* desisted from the'attempt."
On the 29th of May, the party went to Newburyport, and
the next day to Haverhill, where Mr. Eliot determined
to remain, and establish  himself and the two ladies as
boarders with Mr. John White.  This was undoubtedly
a dark and trying  period in my father's life.  He was
disappointed in his hope of reaching a safe and  distant
refuge, responsible for the security and comfort of those
who were very dear to him, uncertain how he should hereafter find the means of living, and fearfully anxious, not only
for his friends, but for his country, now actually involved
in conflict with a power which apparently might easily
force it, not only to obedience, but to sad subjection.  His
energetic and impulsive temperament demanded action and
variety, and now he was forced into utter quiet.  He loved
to be among men and their movements, and had little taste
for rural pleasures.  I can well believe that patience and
content were virtues difficult to reach.
X In the margin, in a later handwriting, is added, " And so it was."
t What an expression this is of strict observance of the Sunday, when news from
England was of such vital interest and importance!




7'
The people were everywhere alarmed by reports of troops
having been landed at Salem, and of engagements having
taken place there and at Cambridge. Minute men were
preparing to march from Bradford and Haverhill with
great zeal and courage.
Early in June (having bought a horse and chaise) Mr.
Eliot visited his sister, Mrs. Belknap, at Dover, and in
July made an excursion to some mysterious "C."   I
suppose it was Cambridge, as he noted a few days before,
that Mr. White had "gone to Cambridge to see the
Provincials."  He gives no account of his journey, nor
does he in the whole book make any record of public
events, or of any opinions or feelings on public affairs.
With the exception of this excursion, the summer slipped
away in a quiet and tranquillity, contrasting wonderfully
with the whirlwind of passion, action, and danger that
swept through a part of the country.  A "drive with
Mrs. Eliot round the pond," in the morning, another
" with Mrs. Andrews in the afternoon," a friend or two
at dinner, or to pass the night, a visit to Newbury or
Hampton, formed the only variety in their lives.  He
frequently says, "visited" so and so, "and took coffee ";
or, " Mr. and Mrs.  ~  called to see us, and took coffee."
Now and then long walks are mentioned, with three or four
gentlemen, with the addition,  "took punch together at
twelve o'clock!'-'
I give two letters written this summer.
"'To Mr. Wm. Barrell.. HAVERHILL, July 24, 1775.
"DEAR BILLY,......  You see by the date of this
letter, that I am now at Haverhill, where, for the present, I




72
have fixed my residence.  Haverhill is about thirty-two
miles from Boston, as many from Cambridge, and an equal
distance from Portsmouth, finely situated on the Merrimack
River, from which the land rises by an easy ascent. The
prospect in some parts of this place is perhaps equalled by
few, and exceeded by none. By none in America, as far as
my recollection reaches, and Bath can alone be put in competition with it. Were this town built with the symmetry,
elegance, and beauty of Bath, I am not sure that it would
not be preferred before it.  We are lodged here as boarders,
in the house of a Mr. John White, which is, without
exception, the very best in this part of the country, and,
considered in itself, is large, neat, and commodious. The
furniture is in proportion to the building, and the family is
kind and obliging, so that we are accommodated in the best
manner, much beyond our expectations, almost beyond our
wishes.
" But, after all, Haverhill is not Boston, and to those who
have once been housekeepers, you will conceive it must
be disagreeable to become inmates in the best family, in
the best dwelling, in the best situation under Heaven.
Another capital difficulty I have to sustain is the dreadful
change from a scene of busy activity to total idleness. To
increase my misfortunes, I have no books with me, having
brought from home only ten or a dozen volumes, expecting
a full supply at Halifax, where, no doubt, I should not
have been disappointed.  I was mistaken in saying another
capital difficulty, those mentioned being neither of them
capital, when compared with the afflictions and distresses
we have been made to suffer. To give you their history
would renew my sorrows, and cause you grief, since you
could not fail to sympathize with those who may with truth




73
be styled the children of adversity. You may have heard
of the Jew Morais, teacher of Hebrew at Harvard
College. This man observed, that no People upon Earth
could with so great propriety sing the Psalms of David
as the People of New England, since no People resembled
the Israelites so much in their settlement and progress.  I
was always struck with the parallel, and when our dispersion
took place, - that terrible dispersion, which has scattered
us over the face of the Earth, - I thought it complete.
".... I forbear to say anything of our publick affairs,
as my situation is extremely unfavorable. We have an
infinity of reports, more than nine tenths of which are
fabricated by ignorance and propagated by falsehood, so
that I am  brought to total incredulity.  Some of the
reports may be compared to a strong gust, or driving storm,
as they inspire fear and scatter destruction, whilst their
authors are full as senseless and unfeeling.
".... We have had no letters from Boston since the
I6th June, the day preceding the Charlestown engagement.
I wish most ardently to hear from Mr. Andrews, Dr. Eliot,
and his two sons, who are still there.  Dr. Eliot is one of
the best of men; he was extremely solicitous to leave the
Town, and would have rejoiced to have come out as early,
or before I did, his wife, with most of the children, having
left him. What detains him? may be asked. I can, to his
honour, answer, a principle of duty to God and his people.
The Town was left destitute of ministers, except two or
three. Many of his congregation remained, and many
of other churches attended his preaching, so that, full as his
house used to be, it became much more crowded than
before. These persons were urgent in their applications to
him to tarry; and could he, in such circumstances, which
IO




74
peculiarly require the aids of religion, - could he leave them
as sheep without a shepherd?  No! he could not.  He
tarries, to his eternal praise; and may Heaven be praised
that, degenerate as the times are, Dr. Eliot has furnished an
instance of virtue which would do honour to the first ages
of Christianity.
"We have many reports that great sickness prevails in
Town. I am not much concerned on his account. I trust
in God that he will be delivered from the pestilence that
walketh in darkness, and from the destruction that wasteth
at noonday.
"'Why drew Marseilles' Bishop purer breath,
When nature sicken'd, and each gale brought death?'
" Your sister Ruthy intends writing to you at this time;
your sister Betsy sends her warmest love, and beseeching
you to take me into a corner of your heart, I remain
"Your affectionate Friend,
" S. ELIOT."
"'To Mr. Robert Treat Paine.;' HAVERHILL, July 25, I77 5
"MY DEAR SIR, -  It was long ago observed that man
is the child of adversity and the subject of affliction.  The
experience of every age has confirmed the remark, and we,
the inhabitants of Boston (that once blest abode), can now,
in the bitterness of our souls, subscribe to its truth.  I
mean not, however, by this beginning, to pour out my
heart before you in unavailing complaints. No, sir, that
would be unbecoming the spirit of a man, which may and
ought to sustain its infirmities and sorrows.....
"I will not now attempt a description of the difficulties




75
with which we have been obliged to struggle, but must
excuse myself with the quotation of Infandum, regina,
jubes renovare dolorem, and shall proceed to acquaint you
that after having been thrown about as the sport of fortune,
not knowing where to fix, we are at last settled in this
place, and, by the greatest accident, have our abode in the
house of Mr. Jonathan White, whose wife was Mrs. Le
Baron, of whom I have heard you speak very favourably.
We are elegantly and commodiously lodged, but the mean
accommodations of the old house at the corner of Wilson's
Lane would be preferred, not to this residence only, but to
the royal apartments of Versailles also. However, notwithstanding the pressure of the times, we enjoy ourselves as
well as we possibly can, and my spirits are greatly higher
than my expectations were concerning them.
" Since my leaving the Town, I have purchased a horse
and chaise, which, though not needful for me in Boston,
where I was constantly engaged in business, yet I judged
would be absolutely necessary in the country, especially as
I expected to take many journeys.  I have not hitherto
journeyed much, not finding that relief which I fondly wished
from it, under a temporary depression. Journeying does
not answer the purpose of easing a troubled mind.
"' Those who beyond seas would go will sadly find,
They change their climate, not their mind.'
" I think I need make no apology to you, my preceptor *
and friend, when I acknowledge that I feel, with strong
emotion, the distresses of my dear, native Town, my beloved Country, my valued friends, and my worthless self.
* I have no knowledge why Mr. Eliot calls Mr. Paine his preceptor, or where he lived
at this time.




76
He surely must be less or more than man who can remain
unaffected in such circumstances as we are brought into;
and I conceive it to be disgraceful to a philosophic or
Christian character to attempt to wrap itself in a stoical
apathy. This would be to counteract not only the highest
and best precepts of our religion, but the law written upon
our hearts.  But enough of this.
"I have left my house in the hands of a careful tenant;
your maps are put in my upper front chamber, where I
have stored the most of my furniture, under lock and key.
Your other things are in the situation they have long been
in, and doubtless they will continue safe, unless general
ruin (which God forbid) should take place.
" I had a letter from Mr. Belknap the other night, in
which he acquaints me with my sister having fallen down
cellar, that she had broken her arm in the fall, and displaced
the bones of three of her fingers.  My sister Betsy is at
Dover with Mrs. Belknap. We have had no letters from
Boston since the I6th June.  Mr. Andrews is still there;
so is Dr. Eliot, whose tarry must be ascribed to the very
best principles. His conduct in this dreadful season has
advanced his reputation. May Heaven preserve him!
"I beg you would divest yourself of every suspicion,
and think of me as favorably as you can. I shall endeavor
to my utmost to know and do my duty. Mrs. Eliot is
obliged in a high degree by the concern you express for
her; her best regards attend you.  Believe me, with every
grateful sentiment,
"Your much indebted Friend,
" S. ELIOT."




77
"To Mr. John Amory, London.
"HAVERHILL, August 2, 1775.
"DEAR SIR, - At the time of your departure, I believe
you are sensible, I suffered as great disappointment as could
possibly happen to me. To be obliged to give up a plan
I had long meditated, and which at last I had the fairest
prospect of accomplishing, -you can better judge than I
can describe my feelings.
" At a period when letters are almost universally open
to publick inspection, the difficulty of corresponding with
an absent friend is so great as to make me uneasy at the
necessity I am sometimes under of writing. In common
seasons it was by no means an agreeable employ, as I found
it a business I was not fitted to perform in a manner satisfactory to myself.
" It gave me some consolation in the midst of my
troubles to find the course of the winds such as was greatly
favourable to your voyage.  I trust you reached the place of
your destination very speedily, and that your passage was
attended with every circumstance that could make it comfortable, pleasant, and agreeable. The Monday after you
left us, I took my leave of Marblehead for Newbury Port,
and the very next day came to Haverhill in search of a
habitation during our banishment from Boston, that ever
blest abode.  By the greatest accident I fell in with Mr.
John White, whom you will recollect as your quondam
customer, and a resident here. With him I engaged board,
if I should determine upon this as the place in which I
should choose to reside, and left him with the obtainment
of a promise that he would hold himself disengaged for a
week or ten days.




78
"Having reason to think this Town as free from danger,
and as well accommodated, as any in this part of the
Country, I removed hither. How much longer I shall
tarry is at present, for some special reasons, extremely
uncertain.  Should we be obliged to change our quarters,
I shall consider our coming here very unfortunate, as Mr.
White's house is by far the best that is met with hereabouts, and, in itself considered, is large, neat, and convenient.
" I shall not attempt to give you the news of the day,
little of which lasts longer than the gourd of Jonah; the
morning, when it rises, finds them withered away. This
must ever be the case when the people are in a similar
situation; when their hopes and fears are alarmed they
grasp at shadows, and catch at the phantoms of an ignorant
or vitiated fancy.
" Mr. Paine continues where you left him, and though,
in compliance with your request and my own inclinations,
I have taken great pains to convince him of the badness of
his station and the superiority of ours, he is deaf to my
arguments, and inattentive to my invitations.
" I beg you would present my affectionate regards to
Mrs. Amory, to Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, and, in one
word, to all my friends.
" Believe me, with the most respectful and sincere regard,
dear Sir,
"Your obliged,
" S. ELIOT."
In October Mr. Eliot made an excursion to Amoskeag
Falls, and his account of them reads so quaintly now, when
we care only for the amount of cloths and dividends they
produce, that I will copy it from the note-book.




79
"CC October 25, I775. Set out this morning for Londonderry in company with Messrs. Harrod, John Barnard,
Frazier, White, Bartlett, and Pulsifer. Dined at Derry,
at Colonel Holland's, and tarried the night.
" 26th. This morning took our departure for Amoskeag
Falls (myself on a horse of Colonel Holland), where we
arrived about twelve o'clock, and found the Falls equal to
our expectations. The height of the Falls causes a great
rapidity of current, a loud noise, and a vast foam and
great spray, and forms an object of grandeur, which the
water-works of art, I think, cannot by any means equal.
What is the regular uniform play of a fountain to the
passage of such immense quantities of water over such
tremendous rocks? After having taken a full view, it was
proposed by Mr. Robert McGregor, who keeps tavern
here, that we should cross the river to an island which
makes one side of this scene. This was performed in a
canoe through a part of the river where was a great rippling from large rocks, and would have rendered our
voyage very dangerous, but that the skill and ability of
Mr. McGregor were fully adequate to the undertaking.
It was with much difficulty and some hazard that we proceeded from one rock to another, but at length we completed our design, having then another good prospect,
though not worth the fatigue and trouble of ferrying
over.
In November my father took a part of Mr. White's
house, and established himself as a housekeeper, finding
comfort, no doubt, in the increased occupation, as well as
independence.
On the I6th of the following January the birth of a
daughter brought great joy to the small family of exiles;




80
but sentiment was as much banished from the records as
politics, and so the event is concisely stated without remark.
As a specimen of the social style of living at Haverhill,
where many other persons were forced to idleness, I will
copy a few of the daily notes.
"January Ist, I776.  Messrs. John and Sam  White
with me at dinner. Mr. Appleton visits me in the evening.
" 2d. Called on by Mr. Prince. Walk with McHard.
Spend the evening with Mr. Sergeant at Mr. Cary's.
"4th.   Dined at Mr. Bartlett's.   Mr. Wadsworth
spends the evening with us.
" Sth. Rode with Mrs. E. Afterwards went to Carr's
on Pulsifer's horse.  Evening at club.
" 6th.  Mr. Harrod at dinner with us.
"7th, Sunday.  Heard Mr. Williams in the morning,
Mr. Guild * in the afternoon. Spent the evening at Mr.
Osgood's, where, besides our usual company, we had Mr.
Wright, of Hampton Falls.
" 8th. At home till noon, when drank punch with Mr.
Rogers, McHard, White, Osgood, Saltonstall. Spent the
evening at Dr. Saltonstall's, where we had the same gentlemen, with the addition of A. Johonnot and N. Blodget.
" Ioth. This afternoon came in S. Eliot [his cousin]
and P. Coffin, who lodged with us.
"IIth.  Called on this morning by Mr. Emerson, of
York.  About noon Mr. Coffin left us.  In the afternoon
walked to Russell's with S. Eliot, and J. White, where we
met McHard, Osgood, Bartlett, S. White, Saltonstall, and
Captain Mulliken, who had gone down on skates. Having
*- Of all these companions and friends, I can give no account, except that the Mr.
Guild who preached on the 7th was the father of my brother-in-law, Mr. Benj. Guild,
that he was made tutor at Cambridge in 1776, and died in I792.




8 I
drunk coffee, returned as we had set out.  Spent the evening at Mr. Cary's with S. Eliot, Mr. Osgood, and Mr.
White."
On the i7th of March, I776, the British troops left Boston, and on the Ig9th, Mr. Eliot went there for two days.
It would be interesting to know its condition and appearance after such sad experiences, but he mentions nothing
more than his going and returning. On the I5th of April
he restored Mrs. Andrews to her husband and home, but
did not remove with his own household treasures till November, the prevalence of the small-pox in Boston being a sufficient reason for delay.
Whilst living in Haverhill, some debtor, eager to get rid
of bad money, insisted that Mr. Eliot should take $ 700
due to him in the American paper money of the time. " It
was a dreadful grievous thing to your Pa!" Miss Hannah said to me; "he did n't know what to do with it; but
after a while he found some old people in Haverhill that
wanted to sell their farm; he wanted to get rid of the
money, and so they made a bargain." * He says nothing
in the note-book of this purchase, but speaks of making
fences and planting trees just before leaving Haverhill. For
a few years he had some receipts from this investment, in
the shape of "corn, cider, potatoes, cheese, and pork,"
which were first taken to Newburyport, and from thence,
by water, to Boston.
~ I give Miss Hannah's words, from notes I took one evening when questioning her
about old times. When I stopped writing, to ask a question, she said naively, "Well,
dear, don't mind me; I can talk when you're done writing," - not dreaming that I was
recording what she told me.
T T




82
How much profit resulted from this speculation, and how
it ended, is not known. Two letters remain, written this
year.
T'o Rohert Treat Paine, Esq.
"HAVERHILL, June I2, I776.
" MY VERY DEAR SIR, - Had I known you were wishing
to hear from me, a letter should have been despatched by
the first opportunity.  Without such knowledge, you will
admit a fear of breaking in upon your important avocations
as a sufficient apology for my silence.
" Your very obliging favour of the 9th May was handed
to me two days ago, and this additional testimony of your
friendly remembrance, you will permit me to say, was as
refreshing as cold water to a thirsty soul.
"The small-pox in Boston has hitherto prevented my
removing there, being apprehensive of danger to a dear
little girl with which Heaven has lately blessed us. The
major part of my goods are left in the state and place in
which I stored them. When they will be opened, I cannot
now determine.
" Mr. Howard, I fear, is in a very disagreeable situation;
I cannot learn any particulars respecting him.  How fervently I join in your aspirations for the friendly sociability
of peaceable life, is beyond my capacity to express. Shall
we ever again enjoy those happy moments of domestick
intercourse we have formerly known? Shall we ever again
meet in the friendly circle where I found blended pleasure
and improvement? In the multitude of such thoughts
within me, I wish I could tell you that the comforts of
Heaven delighted my soul; we certainly need support beyond the reach of reason or philosophy.  But though it is




83
Sunday, I would  not have  you  imagine  I am   going to
preach, or, if I had any thought of it, that I should arrogantly begin with addressing you.
c"....  I am  charged to present the affectionate regards
of my'dear lady,' as you kindly style her, and earnestly
hoping that I may live in your esteem and affection, I am,
"Your obliged and sincere Friend,'" S. ELIOT."
"To  Rev. Mr. john Eliot,* Dedham.
"' HAVERHILL, October Ig, I776.
" MY VERY  DEAR  SIR, -  I am  greatly at a loss for a
proper exordium in an address to a gentleman of your
eminence in the literary world, since notwithstanding those
floods of eloquence that roll on my tongue, the ink that
fills my pen may be better compared  to a stagnant pool
than  to a running  stream.  This, however, in the present
case, may be a fortunate circumstance, as the highest circumspection becomes necessary in writing to one of your
critical scientifick  ability.   I know  the candour of your
mind, and have experienced the goodness of your heart;
these, it may be alleged, are the highest encouragement to
the utmost freedom, and ought to remove the diffidence
which modesty must feel.  But shall I take advantage of
the benevolence you manifest to obtrude my essays, and
engross that time you might so profitably improve in preX Mr. Eliot's cousin, son of Dr. Andrew Eliot, then settled at Dedham. The parish
was called the " Clapboard Tree Parish," probably from some Indian word. Another
Dedham parish was called Tiott.
In person Mr. Eliot was small and unattractive i his voice was high-pitched and sharp;
from extreme near-sightedness, as well as from shyness, he was sadly awkward; but his
temper and whole character were saintly, and they were severely tested in his home. He was
universally respected. His preaching was nevertheless terribly oppressive to youthful hearers.




84
paring and uttering your refined discourses to a listening
world?....
"A  proof may possibly be required by the infidels of
the day of the learning and eloquence of the Clapboard
Tree Genii.  To support our assertions by convictive
evidence may be, in many instances, a task of no small
difficulty, but how easy a business for me now! I have
only to say they have chosen, and continued for a long
time in their publick ministrations, that prodigy of science, that light of the age, and, consequently, the guide
of the blind, -Mr. John Eliot; and the lips of the
greatest Sceptick must be closed in eternal silence! O
Dedham, how dost thou shine among the towns of New
England! Thy profound sagacity and clear penetration
must ever entitle thee to veneration and respect; since, no
sooner did this gentleman emerge from the dust and cobwebs of a college room, ere he had well wiped from his lips
the flavour of a college pie, thus early didst thou select
him from the sons of Harvard to become thy pedagogue,
committed to him the all-important task of educating thy
happy offspring! And now hast thou raised him from the
school to the Church! To distinguish and reward merit is
one of the noblest exertions of human virtue, and it was
impossible to give a stronger evidence of thy attachment to
manly worth, since the elegance of Atterbury, the metaphor
of Seed, the perspicuity of Sharp, and the reasoning of
Foster, are all comprised in the compositions of the renowned Mr. John Eliot....
" 6 Greece had her Demosthenes, and Rome her Cicero';
remember, O Dedham! thou hast thy Johnny Eliot, and
value him in proportion to his exalted worth.
" Thus much, my lad, for my sweet little ode, set to




85
music, and'the copious rolling floods of my elocution.'
Mrs. E. says you are'a sensible, saucy fellow'; the latter
I think a proper epithet to be bestowed upon you by
"Your sincere Friend,
" S. ELIOT."
The exile to Haverhill closed November 12, 1776, when
the little family returned to Boston.  Injury from war had
been wholly escaped, for the household possessions were
safe,* and the goods, which had not been touched, had, of
course, become much  more valuable.   But Mr. Eliot
thought himself a sufferer. Compared with some other
portions of his life, the eighteen months of banishment
from  "blessed Boston" were heavy and trying, yet, measured by the experiences of others, they were bright and
prosperous. He had most abundant reason, as events were
developed, to be thankful that he did not go to England
with Mr. Amory in the spring of I775. That gentleman
left his children, a wide circle of relatives, and a large business establishment in Boston. He remained in England as
long as funds could be sent to him from home; but that
became very difficult, and he went to Brussels, where he
lived in a most restricted and uncomfortable condition till
the close of the war. On coming back to this country,
in June, he found the displeasure against such absentees
so strong in Boston, that he and Mrs. Amory were
obliged to remain in Providence till the next December,
* On the preceding IIth of March, I776, General Howe, then in command at Boston,
issued an order that all dry goods and clothing, not belonging to loyalists, should be seized
and put on board the English vessels in the harbor, - an order at once willingly obeyed,
but countermanded the next day.




86
when the indignant town authorities condescended to permit
them to return.  It was a strong teaching to those who
had escaped such troubles.
Mr. Eliot was once more established in his home, the
new treasure, little Fanny, then ten months old, adding
fresh brightness to the house, and a new incitement to content and industry.  Boston must then have looked sadly
marked and marred by the reckless waste and injury
from the violence of war and the passions of repulsed
soldiers.  The Old South Church had been used   misused - by the cavalry, our Common had been a campingground, the Neck barricaded, and disease and poverty had
been the natural consequences.
The active life in Dock Square was renewed with double
zest, for the goods so successfully stored were much needed,
and as my Sibyl said, "sold mighty well."  It was a period
of great anxiety and of great privation, for though Boston
was safe, the rest of the country was exposed to danger and
suffering that extended their effects to the most quiet and
secure places; and I can well believe that steady work in
the shop and the nursery was the best recipe for cheerfulness to both Mr. and Mrs. Eliot. But many valued
friends were about them, with sympathies deeply stirred
by a common experience.
Beyond these natural inferences, I can say nothing of
my father's life through the seven years from 1776 to 1783;
neither notes nor letters remain.  But in the last-mentioned year a great and heavy sorrow fell upon him, in the
death of Mrs. Eliot on the 24th of May. It could hardly
have been sudden or unexpected, since the disease was
dropsy; but after eighteen years of strong affection, and
acute sympathy in joy and sorrow, separation can never be




87
less than a shock, nor can the sharpness of the suffering
be measured by others.
Fanny was then seven, -  old enough to grieve over her
loneliness at certain hours, but blessedly ignorant of what
the real loss of a mother is.  I imagine she was more
an anxiety than an amusement to her father, and his quiet
hours must have been very sad.
Peace was concluded between England and the States in
January, I783.  Private as well as public relations between
the two countries were, of course, in great confusion and
disorder, and Mr. Eliot, having much business to arrange,
and being glad to seek relief from  the desolation of his
home, determined to go to England.  Mr. Nathan Bond
had just married the sister of Mr. Elisha Sigourney, one
of the apprentices in Dock Square, and it was proposed to
him to occupy Mr. Eliot's house in his absence, and provide for the comfort and safety of little Fanny, and her
faithful attendant Hannah.  This arrangement made, he
sailed in July; but there was no journal kept of the voyage and visit, and only a few letters remain, expressing
much sadness and a pressure of occupation, but giving no
details.  One anecdote which he used to tell, connected
with this visit, gave the beginning of an acquaintance and
lifelong correspondence.  Before leaving home he had been
greatly delighted by a novel, received amongst other books
from  London, called "The History of Miss Temple."*
* This novel that so pleased Mr. Eliot was printed in I777, when English novels were
rare, and though strongly in the Laura Matilda style, was a great advance in refinement
upon the Fielding and Smollett representations of life. Few could read it now except
as a burlesque, but its sentiment and glowing language, I suppose, were fascinating at




88
In London he learned that it was written by a Miss
Rogers, and walking one day in Sheffield with a friend, Miss
Rogers was pointed out to him just entering a shop. He
immediately followed her, introduced himself, and told
her of his great admiration of her work.  She amiably and
graciously accepted this suddenly expressed homage, and
invited him  to visit her at her mother's house, which, of
course, he did; and it always pleased  him  to recall his
enjoyment in these visits, and the friendship won by his
honest impulsiveness.  He described this first interview  to
Mrs. Andrews; but I have only the following account of
his second visit to the lady.
"To Mrs. Andrews, Boston.
" WOLVERHAMPTON, October zz, I783.
" MY  DEAR RUTHY, -....  I mentioned having seen
Miss Rogers  at Sheffield.  I drank tea with her two days
after at her mother's at Dronfield, where I fell in most
happily with a gentleman whom I knew for a moment when
last in  Sheffield.  I have the vanity to  believe that the
casual meeting gave mutual joy. I have received from him
since one of the most friendly letters that was ever penned,
together with a billet and pretty copy of verses, addressed
to me from Miss Rogers. You shall see and hear everything upon this subject, as well as what passed in repeated
interviews with the very justly celebrated Miss Seward, the
author of the'Monody  on Major Andre,' to whom  I
that time. The authoress presented Mr. Eliot with a beautifully bound copy (which is
now mine), with a most friendly inscription and some verses addressed to her by Mr.
Aikin (Mrs. Barbauld's brother), copied by herself. Miss Rogers married a Dr. Stokes.
She continued a friendly intercourse with Mr. Eliot through his life. The " five sheets"
from Miss Seward mentioned in the following letter have not been preserved.




89
introduced myself by a billet addressed to her at Lichfield,
where she lives.  I need not particularize my reception
after informing you that she spent great part of Sunday in filling five sheets of paper for me, partly with her
own observations on Dr. Johnson, whom she knows well,
-which I have reason to think were written for me, —and partly with some copies of sweet poetical compositions.
You are the only person in America to whom I mention
Miss Rogers and Miss Seward, and till I see my dear
Ruthy, she will take no notice to any one of what I have
said concerning them.... "
A few letters written to Mr. Eliot in this year are
interesting, not only from their own freshness and animation, which time cannot dim, but because they show
the impression which his character produced upon his
contemporaries, and they form a various and valuable representation.  They also prove confidence in his judgment,
capacity, and good feeling, for all sorts of applications
were made, and trusts confided to him.  English creditors
were to be appeased; sufferers from martial law in America
sought redress; new mercantile connections were wanted;
young men seeking their fortunes were referred to him for
advice and funds; while commissions for purchases were not
spared.  Eight years of war had accumulated many wants.
A church needed bells; one friend wished a carriage,
another a watch; some wrote for books; ladies asked for
jewelry and caps; and one frugally requested that the dress
she sent in his charge might be dyed! It appears, too, that,
while purchasing for others, he did not fail to collect pretty
12




9o
and useful articles for Mrs. Andrews and little Fanny.  I
give a few of the merely friendly letters.*
From yudge N. P. Sergeant.t
" HAVERHILL, August 6, I783.
"DEAR SIR, -  I embrace this opportunity of writing by
Captain  Mansis.  Cannot inform  about your friends in
Boston, as I have not been there since I saw you; expect
to go there in about three weeks, when I intend to see your
Fanny, and have a little chit-chat.   I think there is no
doubt but we shall find subjects enough to talk of.  I feel
already that I shall miss my old friend there.
" We have hitherto had an admirable season; the hay is
short by reason of the early spring drought.  The prices
of American produce are coming fast to the old standard.
Everything wears a promising aspect, but only people's
passions are raised very high about the half-pay to the
officers; a little time will bring them  to see their own
interests, and the necessity of keeping up national credit
and character.  My whole quota of what is granted to the
officers and soldiers is but about thirty dollars. Who would
not choose to pay that small sum to have our officers return
pleased, their faces shining with joy, congratulating their
Country on the security of its peace, liberty, and independence, rather than that they should return sour, morose, and
cursing the ingratitude of their Country? Surely no Nation
on earth was ever under greater obligations to an army than
America.
" Nothing has prevented us from granting the necessary
* I give these letters the more willingly, because my venerable friend, Mr. James Savage,
once told me that letters of this period are not numerous.
t Judge Sergeant was appointed Chief Justice of Massachusetts in I789, and died at
Haverhill in I79I, aged sixty.




9I
supplies for the support of the national credit but the
ungrateful opposition to the officers' allowance. I trust the
Massachusetts credit will soon rise very high; but you
know I have always been much more sanguine than you
and many others about this matter, therefore make what
allowance you please.
"There has been an infamous affront offered to Congress, which, probably, you have heard: a few soldiers
came down and made prisoners of them for a short time;
but I am happy to hear our members, especially the
Northern ones, behaved with proper spirit.  Congress
have so far resented the pusillanimity and cowardice of
the Pennsylvania Government as to remove from it, I
hope never to return. Large. privileges are offered them at
Maryland and New York, who are trying to outbid.
"Thus far Politicks.  I have two personal requests to
make. My son has sailed with Captain Mansis, upon
short warning. I could not furnish him with any venture
that I thought would answer any purpose.  I have had no
opportunity to purchase bills for him. I have, therefore,
knowing your goodness, ventured to draw a bill on you for
seventy dollars in his favour. As soon as I go to Boston,
I purpose to purchase bills to that amount, or more, and
send to you, perhaps with some further requests.  My
second request is, that you would inquire for one Farmer
Durkett, who lived eight or nine miles out of London, and
get some Siberia wheat of him, or somebody thereabouts, -
quantity, three or four bushels, -and ship it by Captain
Mansis.  Shall trouble you frequently with letters, in hopes
to get some in answer. Wishing you health and prosperity, I subscribe myself
"Your affectionate Friend,
"NATHL. PEASLEE SERGEANT."




92
Among other important commissions intrusted to Mr.
Eliot, was the arrangement for publishing Mr. Belknap's
History of New  Hampshire, then just completed.  Mr.
Belknap had written to Longman, in London, on the subject, but had not received an answer, and wrote thus to his
brother-in-law:
" If Longman should have written to me before your
arrival, he will doubtless have a copy to show you, and
you need not wait for an answer before you conclude the
matter.  If there be necessity for any formal contract or
assignment, you may act as if you were the proprietor of
the copy."
Most of the few letters from Dr. Belknap are wholly on
this subject. I copy a paragraph upon general matters -
"DOVER, N. H., August 22, I783.
".... The political state of the Country is not materially changed in any respect since you left it.  Congress are
fixed at Princetown, and have the offer from New Jersey
State of a territory of twenty miles square in any part of
the Jerseys, to be solely under the jurisdiction of the United
States, and of ~30,000 currency to be at their disposal.
The import and the officers' commutation are yet unadopted, and in ten States violently opposed; and I am
afraid we shall never agree upon ways and means to pay our
debts till we are forced to it by some Foreign Power. A
few heavy ships, our creditors' allies, stationed off each
harbour, would soon do it.
"Don't you remember in the beginning of the late
Troubles we had, in some of the newspapers, a Serpent cut
into twelve or thirteen pieces, and the motto was,'Join
or die'?  That Serpent is still our emblem; the parts




93
have been cemented with blood, but the texture of it is dissolved, - each State claims a sovereignty as absurdly as if
each of those parts had claimed to be a Serpent. We are
known abroad as a United Sovereignty, but we want to
be known among ourselves as Independent Sovereignties,
each one having a negative not only on the other, but on
the whole of the rest.  If thirteen wheels were fixed on one
axis, the motion might be regular and uniform, but thirteen
wheels on as many axes require a much greater force to put
them in motion than the packthread energy of Congressional resolves, remonstrances, and exhortations, of which
we have had so many, one of which is now presently to
be examined and voted upon, -not in every State only,
but in every Town-Meeting, -before it can be carried into
execution.  It is about the mode of valuation, or taxation,
or something of that sort, an alteration in one of the
Articles of Confederation; and if they are all to be altered
in this manner, and we are to take our own time to do it in
every town, you may guess what a sweet piece of work we
shall make of it.
" As to our New Hampshire Constitution, it has undergone another amendment, and is now, a third time, - I
believe a fourth, - sent out for approbation; and the Convention are to have (I think) an eighth session this fall,
to receive the Report, and, if necessary, mend it, and send
it back again. Don't you hope it will be a good one at
last?
" My family are all in tolerable health.  Ruthy desires
her love, and the children their duty to you, and I am,
dear Sir, with much gratitude and respect,
"Your very affectionate and obliged Friend,
" JERE. BELKNAP."




94
From Rev. Dr. Simeon Howard.*
"BosToN, October 8, 1783.
" DEAR SIR, - Not many days after you sailed from
Boston I had such an account of the vessel in which you
went, from persons whom.I thought knowing in such matters, as made me anxious for your safety.  I have accordingly been impatient to hear of your arrival in Great
Britain, and was therefore made happy to-day, when your
honest friend, Mr. Greenough, congratulated me on your
having been some time among your friends in London.
" My frequent visits to you for many years past must
have led you to think that you were of some consequence
to my happiness.  But you did not, I dare say, conceive
- for I assure you I did not — that your absence would
have made such a blank in my enjoyments. Deprived of
so many friends as I have been, -some fled to heaven,
and some to distant parts of the earth, - I feel myself a
very solitary being. That house in Dock Square whose
hospitable doors have so often give me a friendly welcome,
and where I have passed more agreeable hours than in any
X Dr. Howard was settled at the West Boston Church, on the same spot occupied by
the present building, in I767.  Mr. Eliot always attended at this church, and deeply
venerated and loved his pastor.  Indeed, he was universally valued for piety, wisdom, and
faithfulness. He died in I804.
I remember his tall and dignified figure, his white hair, and gentle, benignant manner,
and the long-continued grief for his loss.
I add here anl extract from an otherwise uninteresting letter from a Mr. Thomas Walley
to Mr. Eliot, dated October 30, I783:"Our singing (about which you were so anxious) is again revived, and several of the
first characters in the society sit with the singers, which I know will give you pleasure.
When I have the happiness of seeing you, I will tell you how it was brought about."
Mr. Eliot sang psalm-tunes in a full, clear barytone voice, but I never knew, except
through this letter, of his interest in the church-choir which, many years later, my
brother William arranged and led with great taste and success.




95
other house in town except my own, now calls up the painful remembrance of departed joys, and suggests many
gloomy ideas. Little Fanny, however, whom I sometimes
call to see, never fails to please me by her sprightly and
agreeable prattle.  You hear, no doubt, from  other hands
of her continued health, - a favour the more to be valued,
because many children among us have fallen into a decline
after the  measles.  May  Heaven  preserve  her to  be a
blessing to her father and an honour to her sex, a fair
copy of everything amiable in your and my departed
friend.
" What are your negotiators about in Europe?  Why is
the definitive treaty so long in coming?   Is the work of
peace to be left incomplete, and the dogs of war to be let
loose again?  Heaven  forbid  it!   But I cannot enlarge,
being obliged to close my letter immediately, and send it
to Mr. Greenough, or I shall miss the opportunity of conveyance.   I am, with much esteem  and affection,
"Your Friend and Servant,
-  "SIMEON  HOWARD."
From  Rev. Dr. Gordon.*
"JAMAICA PLAINS, December 8, 1783.
"And so, Sir, you thought -  did you? -  to prevent all
further correspondence by not telling me how I was
to direct to you? And could you believe me to be so
* Allen, in his Biographical Dictionary, says of Dr. Gordon, that "he was a strict
Calvinist,yet he possessed a liberal mind and a very sociable disposition. He was even
sometimes facetious,"  a slight token of what Calvinists were in those days. Dr. Gordon
was at this date settled in Roxbury. He left a parish in London in I770, from interest
in this country, but returned to England in I786, to publish his History of the American
War, and settled in a parish in Huntingdonshire. He died in I807.




96
young, or so antiquated, that I could not trace you? This
may convince you of the contrary.
" I am glad you are so well satisfied with my Portsmouth
friends.  The lieutenant and his wife are very grateful, and
gratitude, you know, is ofttimes extravagant in its expressions; and therefore you must make some deductions for
tare on the gross account. Your next, in answer to the
present, unless you come propria persona, will give, I think,
a pleasing relation of agreeable interviews with other friends.
"It was a month yesterday when we got safe home,
through Divine goodness, from Philadelphia, after a pleasant journey and an absence of twelve weeks wanting a few
days. I was present at the audience of the Dutch Ambassador at Congress, but will write you nothing further about
it. Saw the Grandees of America, and freely conversed and
intermixed with them, and found them to be flesh and bone,
and to possess passions and infirmities like myself.  Heard
enough to convince me more than ever that all bodies of
men, Congress not excepted, are best by being looked at
from afar, and that, if you mean to preserve your rights,
you must do your duty and look after them yourself. If
they are not worth your care, they are not worth any one's
care for you.
"No sooner had I entered within my own State, but
taking up a newspaper at Longmeadow upon my return, I
learnt, by an extract, said to be taken from the Journals
of the House, that our Reps. had beaten the British
House of Commons in blundering and trampling upon
the Constitution; for that in the case of Williams of
Deerfield, who had been returned anew by the town, they
had voted in the morning, and that unanimously, that he,
having been expelled without a reason assigned, was eligible




97
by the town; in the afternoon, - mind, of the same day,by a great majority, that, having been expelled, he had no
right to a seat in the House.  He was therefore turned out.
Risum teneatis, amici?  The Gotham managers in this business were the dux gregis ipse caper and the first majorgeneral, with whom the plain Parson used to battle it in
the Council Chamber.
-".... We have been looking out for Callahan, who
was not arrived yesterday morning. We have had of late
good winds; if he does not get in by Saturday night, I
shall fear the worst.
" December i9th. The brig Hope, I judge, is in, having received a letter to-day, but not a word of Callahan;
shall not send my letter off till to-morrow, when in town,
with design of putting it into a bag for Liverpool; till
when and thenceforward, I shall remain, as long as I think
you entitled to it,
"Your sincere and humble Servant,
" WILLIAM GORDON.
"Dec. 22. Callahan got in at Halifax, dismasted, after
a ten-weeks' passage."
From  7udge Sergeant.
" BOSTON, December 27, I783.
" DEAR SIR, - I have just spent a fortnight in Boston,
on a special Court, for the trial of certain felonies, -not a
very agreeable business.
" I have visited your Fanny, - I know you want to hear
of her first; she grows; - healthy, at least.  I think her
countenance better than I ever knew.  I made her modesty
13




98
give me a kiss to carry to Mrs. Sergeant; this, with some
chit-chat about her Pa, was our entertainment.
" I expected by this, to be sure, to have received a line
from my old friend. I asked Mr. Balch if he had one.' No.' I asked if he had written to you.' No, he had
rather write to Governors, Judges, Ministers, Critics, &c.,
than to folks that laid up letters, and could produce them
eight or ten years hence against him; he could talk and
prate to you, but litera scripta manet.' All this does not
terrify me.  Now for news, if your acquaintance have not
been beforehand with me. Peace and plenty seem to have
met together and kissed each other; our army is now
nearly disbanded, without trouble, tumult, or confusion;
our soldiers, in general, return home very far from bad
citizens. Trade you left in a tumult, like a pool of water
where some solid body had been thrown. The waves
have been gradually, one after another, lessening, and will,
in the spring, I trust, flow in a regular, smooth channel.
My great fear is the scarcity of money, which will unavoidably be great from the continual drains for Europe.
"A  Bank is now setting up in Boston, the capital to
be $300,000; I imagine it may begin to operate in March
next.  I trust it will prove of public utility.  Dr. Cooper
has been dying all day, of a lethargic disorder attended
with a fever. We had some alarm lest you were on board
Callahan, who has at last arrived at Halifax, but not here
yet. I don't know but one poorer man than myself, - that
is our treasurer; his creditors are more numerous, and
nearer home than mine; this must be my excuse for not
remitting to you long before this the money I promised
you in August last. I hope soon to be able to do it.
Hope is the last thing that forsakes us.




99
"Next February  term   our honours  are  to  appear in
robes. What a figure we shall make! Must pray you not
to neglect sending me the wheat I wrote about; it is said
to have come from Farmer Duckett, near London.*
"Pray  write  to  me as soon  as possible; to  receive a
letter fromn London will exceedingly gratify the pride of
"Your sincere Friend and humble Servant,
"NATH. PEASLEE SERGEANT."
From yames Sullivan, Esq.t
"BOSTON, January 8, I784.
"My  DEAR  SIR, -Although  I have  nothing  to  write
which can in any manner entertain one who now is bathing
in Helicon, and breathing in the air of Parnassus, I cannot
deny myself the pleasure of writing you a line. You have
seen from the very direction of it that it is from the hand
of the only one amongst your numerous correspondents
who does not know how to write.
" We have got a Magazine on foot. The first number,
which is now considered as an abortion, was rascally; the
second, which claims the birthright, and is now looked
upon as the oldest son, is tolerable; but we want your assistance, and now, while I think of it, the Saturday Paper is
out of credit since you left us.   I send you two papers to let
you know that one of the Muses ventured to stay after you
left us. How long she will tarry is very uncertain, and
* I wish I knew whether Farmer Duckett was found by this lucid address.
t Mr. Sullivan at this date was a Commissioner to settle affairs between the States of
New York and Massachusetts. Though then only thirty-nine years old, he had already
been King's Attorney for the county where he lived, a Member of the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, a Judge of the Superior Court of Massachusetts, one of three
gentlemen sent on a difficult commission to Ticonderoga, a Delegate to the General Congress, and a Member of the Convention for forming the State Constitution,- a remarkable
record for so young a man. Later he was Governor of the State.




100
perhaps you will add that it is no matter, unless she is more
propitious than she seems to be in the enclosed production.
This you ought to say while you are in your haughty
Island, where contempt of America is a cardinal virtue.
" I am planning to get Belknap to settle in Brattle Street
Church; how  it will be I know  not.  John Eliot is
about being joined in holy matrimony with Joe Treadwell's
daughter. Joe is a high Universalist, but John is content
he should go to Heaven with as many as he can carry
in his own way, provided he can obtain the girl and be in
her paradise.
" Our state of Politicks is like that of all the world,
the outs and the ins are at quarrel; trade is dull, I hear,
religion is still heavier, and honesty cannot bear our cold
seasons.  The governor  [John  Hancock] is sick, and
his friend Adams is not very well. The Judges will dress
in their robes at the next term; the freedom of the press
will be exercised on the occasion.
"The late measures of Britain to stop our trade with her
Colonies will throw the States into a ferment, and spirited
measures will be taken, which will do much injury to the
trade of both nations. Why Great Britain cannot be
prudent enough to be our factors, and take all the advantage
of our trade, I do not conceive; but folly seems to be
their fate. They are buoyed up with an expectation that we
shall be driven, by the weakness of our Federal Government,
to seek protection from England; but this is all delusion.
You may rely upon it that, though our calamities may
drive us to accept a monarchy, they will never drive us
back to England again.
" I am with great regard, esteem, and friendship,
" Your humble servant,
"JAMES SULLIVAN."




IOI
Extract from  a letter from  Rev. Jeremiah Belknap to Rev.
yohn Eliot.
"DOVER, N. H., January 26, I784.
".... I have another letter from our friend in England,
dated November 12.  He mentions having dined in company with Mr. Adams, and breakfasted with him at his
lodgings, and says he found Mr. A. very conversable and
agreeable and pleasing. Was there any intimacy between
them  heretofore?  If not, it seems there is now, and it
may be of an advantage to our friend if this were known in
Boston, especially among the higher ones.  I do not therefore wish you to observe a Masonic taciturnity on this
subject, as I certainly do on another, which is this:
he speaks of his just having  returned  from  a thirtyseven days' tour into the country, and after mentioning the
importunity of friends, and his not being able to get time
to visit them, he concludes his letter thus:' I have not
seen my friend Mrs. Haley these eight weeks. She
knows that I am returned from the country, and I must
visit her this instant.'  Now, my  friend, you  have the
Masonic light, which, without a compliment, I suppose is
at least equal to the boasted second sight of the Caledonian
Bards. Tell me whether, by the aid of your magic lantern, you can discover any consanguinity between this
paragraph and the conclusion of a letter I lately received
from Portsmouth.'Adieu; I must converse with my
angel.'*
* The conclusion of a letter from the same Mr. Eliot to whom Mr. Belknap was writing, which is still preserved. Mr. Eliot was then visiting Miss Treadwell, who lived in
Portsmouth, and to whom he was soon after married. Mr. B. distributed jokes and
badinage rather impartially, it seems.




102
"We have had it announced in the papers that the
above-named lady is about embarking for America, to
collect the  debts  of  her late  husband.   May  we  not expect our friend  in  the  same  ship?   But this  is a matter
of delicacy. He also speaks of dining with the Revolutionary Society, on  the 5th November, when this toast was
given among others: " May every arbitrary Government
experience a Revolution, and every Tyrant meet the fate
of Charles  the First.'   So  that you  see if a man  is to be
known by his company, our hero will stand high in the
catalogue of Revolutionists.
Y" ours,
"JERE. BELKNAP."
Mr. Eliot returned  to  Boston  in  May, 1784, after an
absence of eleven months. He did make the voyage with
Mrs. Hayley,* but Mr. Belknap's joking suggestions had
no foundation. In August 1784 he wrote as follows to
Mr. Belknap: -
" I should  be  very  happy  to  have  it in my power to
write to my friends as often as they wish me to do; but
the increasing calls of my own business, and the attention
I am obliged to give to the settlement of Mr. Green's
estate, are much more than enough to take up all my time.
*Mrs. Hayley was the sister of the notorious Mr. John Wilkes, and, from all accounts,
was as ugly as he was. I believe a stronger measurement could not be given. Mrs. Hay.
ley married, in Boston, a wealthy Mr. Jeffrey, uncle of Mr. Francis Jeffrey, the distinguished
Edinburgh lawyer and editor.  She lived in a beautiful house on the easterly slope of
Pemberton Hill, with fine trees, lovely gardens, and green terraces around it that commanded charming views of town, harbor, and islands. What is the recompense for the
loss of that breezy hill and brilliant prospect? Its place is filled by a mass of brick,
where lawyers congregate. The only relic of Mrs. Hayley that I know of is a beautiful
China dinner set, with her initials on each piece, that has been long in the Prescott
family.




103
In one view I do not regret my perpetual hurry.  It takes
off my mind from my very painful solitary state. I neither
pay nor receive visits; to both of which, separate from business, I have no inclination. I have seen Mr. Howard but
one evening since my return, John Eliot as seldom. I am
concerned at my solitude, not only on my own account,
but on my dear Fanny's.  But where can I find a wife and
mother?....
" I have purchased my good friend Mr. Amory's house;
or rather I have contracted for it, and have the deed, though
I have not yet paid for it.  I did think to move this fall.
I have just determined that I shall not. Why should I,
if I have no one to take possession with me? The present
abode is good enough for me, though almost filled with
goods. Where are your books? I wish they would come
from Philadelphia. Let your people send the money for
Goldsmith; I want every farthing I can call for.
"Yours in much haste,
"S. ELIOT."
My father had been much troubled, while in England,
by hearing of rumors that he wished to marry, and by Mr.
Walter Barrell's advice that he should do so. He wrote
of this to Mrs. Andrews, with much annoyance and trouble,
and came home to great loneliness and sadness, which he
forgot only in hard work.
The house he says he had contracted for was a very
handsome one for that period, filling, with its out-buildings, the whole space now covered by the Albion, on the
corner of Beacon and Tremont Streets, and extending
to the stone houses in Beacon Street.  It was a wooden
building (of three stories and an L behind), fronting on




IO4
Tremont Street, with four tall poplar trees before it. A
large wood-shed, and capacious stable and coach-house,
were on Beacon Street, enclosing a pretty garden and a
large paved yard.  It was not till July, 1785, that he
removed there, probably driven from the Dock Square
house by accumulating goods. Fanny, then nine years
old, Hannah, and black Peter formed the household. It
was time for the change; he was now forty-six years old;
business had prospered with him; he had abundant means
and a natural taste for social and hospitable action, and
another home was necessary for such enjoyment.  Miss
Hannah described to me something of the change:" In the old house, dear, we had but little company; in
the new house all but everybody, - company forever,every Englishman that came to town."  " Mrs. Hayley?"
" 0 yes, whenever she was in town, there was always a great
party for her. We had one girl after we went to the new
house, but I had all the care.  I used to make all the things
for company, -jellies, pies, cake, soups, and everything;
and there was always sights of things; I don't know how
I ever got through it all;'twould kill me now. Mrs.
Andrews and Mrs. Job Prince used to receive the ladies,
and after dinner they'd come up the front stairs, and I
met'em on the broad landing, and Mrs. Hayley would
give me a dollar and say,' I know we give you a great
deal of trouble.' Then they would go all over the house, -
up into the upper story that was n't finished then, -and,
O; they did enjoy themselves like queens   Well, dear, I
don't know how I should have got through such times if
your father had n't been contented; but he was one of
them that always knew what he wanted, and when anybody
tried to please him, and he always spoke kindly to me."




105
In spite of such social meetings, those days must have
been lonely and full of care. He wanted some one to
share his interests and his prosperity, and to guide his
young daughter. There was a terrible blank in his life, and
none to fill it.
One day in January, I786, a young lady went to Mr.
Eliot's store in Dock Square and made some purchases.
She was an entire stranger to him, but while serving her he
was so much struck and attracted by her appearance and
manner that he determined, if possible, to learn her name
and home. She wished to take her purchases herself, but,
with resolute adroitness, he prevailed upon her to allow
him  to send them  to her.  The address given was " Miss
Atkins, at Mrs. Benjamin Lincoln's, Tremont Street, next
the Stone Chapel," opposite to which was Mr. Eliot's new
house. Mr. Eliot, losing no shade of interest and curiosity, soon obtained an introduction to Mrs. Lincoln and
Miss Atkins, through his friend, Mr. Christopher Gore;
and his first impressions rapidly strengthened into such
vehement feeling, that he determined to win her for his
wife, if he could. This was not so easy as he might have
wished. I give part of a letter on the subject written to
his sister.
"To Mrs. Ruth Belknap, Dover, New  Hampshire.
"BOSTON, March I I, 1786.
"MY DEAR SISTER,- -.... I will go on to a much
more pleasing subject, and inform you with pleasure, as I
know it will give you pleasure, that I have seen and become




io6
acquainted with a lady who has engaged my esteem, respect,
and love, and in whose heart, if I can make an interest, I
shall esteem myself favoured of Heaven. Miss Atkins, of
Newbury, is the lady, to whom I should bless God
were I to-morrow to be united.  She has not any money,
but I conceive her worth to be beyond rubies.
" I will give you her character from the closest inquiry
of one well qualified from domestick intercourse with this
amiable girl, and my own strict observation in two months'
acquaintance.
" Know, then, my sister, and, what is more,:my friend,
that she is a lady of open professed religion and' real virtue;
of good sense, sentiment, and delicacy; of strong attachment to her relations, not as such, but as those who have
in every view approved themselves her friends, and because they have intrinsic, abstract merit.  And what, I
had nearly said, is more with me than anything else, she
is a person of great softness and tenderness of nature, of
great candour, sincerity, and truth.  Bred up in the school
of adversity, and deep read in lessons of distress, she has a
tear ever ready to soothe sorrow, and I believe, if Heaven
had given the power, her hand would always be open to its
relief.
" My connection with this lady has, by much manceuvre
on my part, in order to gratify the most timid and diffident
of all human beings, - this dear Miss Atkins, - been kept
perfectly out of view of the prying eyes and busy tongues
of this idly curious town till last week, when it burst at
once  from  its uncommonly fortunate concealment.  I
should have mentioned a material circumstance in this
good lady's description, - she is very fond of children.
Fanny dined and spent the afternoon with her at Mrs.




107
Gore's, say three weeks ago, unknowing even my acquaintance with Miss Atkins.  Miss Atkins herself was good
enough to tell me that upon the child's instant entry she
gave her a look that pierced the inrnost recesses of her
soul; that before dinner Fanny was rather shy and reserved, but after dinner she grew more free; and having
sat some time where she happened to have a seat, she took
her stool and carried it to Miss Atkins's side, where she
planted it, sat down, put her little hand into Miss Atkins's
muff, and attached herself to her for the residue of the
afternoon.  All this was noticed by Mrs. Gore and minutely related by her also.  Fanny came home full of Miss
Atkins to me, whom, you may be sure, I did not appear
to know much about. The report of last week has met
her ear; she has been in rapture at the thought of her
being her mamma, as I pray God she may be. I will endeavour to inclose a copy of a letter she has written to this
lady, who left this town a week ago for Newbury; every
syllable (uncorrected) is her own, whether blameworthy or
praiseworthy.
" I have thus given you a very full account of my present situation.  May Heaven give me success.  Give my
best love to Mr. Belknap; tell him I am very sensible that
I am much in his debt in writing, but beg his excuse at
present. I am much engaged in preparing letters for London.  I am also pleasingly obliged to forward letters very
frequently to Miss Atkins and her connections, so that my
hands are full of a business that I never was and never
shall be fond of., Tell Mr. Belknap that Sam [his son] is
well, and has been, these three months, every night but one
in the week, to the best school I could find.
".... I wish most earnestly to be soon at Newbury. I




Io8
am miserably detained here at present. I should like a letter
from you when at Newbury. Do write me immediately on
getting this, under cover to'Mr. Geo. Searle, Mercht., at
Newburyport.'
"I have said I have written several times to Miss
Atkins; I have not yet the happiness of any reply.  I
flatter myself that her dear modesty and diffidence are the
only causes of her silence.  I hear constantly from  her
brothers.
" I am, your sincere Friend and Brother,' S. ELIOT."
As juvenile productions of that period are not common,
I give the letter that was enclosed. Miss Fanny was then
ten years and two months old.
"To Miss Atkins, Newbury.
"BOSTON, March, 1786.
"MADAM, - Ever since the day I had the pleasure of
spending with you at Mrs. Gore's, I conceived a peculiar
liking to you, which was heightened by your very kind
treatment of me.  But never did I harbour the pleasing
thought that there would be a nearer attachment.  Miss
Hubbard was the first that I heard it from, and indeed
Madam, it gave me singular pleasure, when I had some
hope it was true. I asked my Papa about it, and he
promised in a week's time he would tell me, but thinking
that time too long to be debarred from a thing that would
give me such real pleasure were it true, I prevailed upon
my Papa to tell me last evening. I have from what he
told me some little information, and apply to you, Madam,
for further.




og9
"I mentioned you to my Papa, when I came home from
Mrs. Gore's, and indeed, there is nobody that I should like
so well for a mamma, or that I think would make a better
than Miss Atkins.
"I beg you would honour me with an answer, and
remain in the due time,
"Your affectionate
"FRANCES ELIOT."
Miss Catherine Atkins* was the daughter of Mr. Dudley Atkins, of Newburyport, " a gentleman of education,
intelligence, and good-breeding."  His father was a Captain
in the British navy, who, coming to reside in New England, brought with him  his children (their mother being
dead) and a good fortune. About 1728 or I729, Captain
Atkins married the daughter of Governor Joseph Dudley,
a widow, with one daughter. (I have often heard this 14
spoken of as very beautiful and attaching. She married
Mr. Chambers Russell.) Dudley Atkins was the only
child of this marriage.
The Dudley family was held in great distinction in the
little town of Newbury, having wealth enough to live
handsomely, and being fond of keeping up all the forms
and ceremonies of the day. The gold-headed cane, white
gloves, and lace ruffles produced their natural effect, while
the kindliness and good qualities of the family commanded
the affectionate respect of all who knew them.
Why Captain Atkins chose Newbury for his resting-place
X For much of the succeeding sketch of my mother's family, I am indebted to a short
manuscript memoir of my grandmother, Madam Atkins, by my cousin, Miss Lucy Searle,
who was brought up by her, and who wrote it after the death of Madam Atkins, in the
constant companionship of those who knew every fact.




110
is not recorded.  He liked apparently to enjoy his fortune
in freedom, brought with him English habits and manners,
and continued an Episcopalian.  He sent his son Dudley
to Harvard College, where he was graduated in 1748, at the
age of eighteen. The young man did not connect himself
with either of the professions, and only occasionally engaged
in business, and in I752, four years after leaving college,
he married Miss Sarah Kent.
Miss Kent's father, Colonel Richard Kent, "was a man
of consideration, had a large landed property, and was a
Representative in the General Court in Boston."  He
lived on Kent's Island, about three miles from Newbury,
which was entailed upon his oldest son by a first marriage.
His other property he left to his daughters, but as it was
not sufficient to make them independent, it is said he would
have broken the entail, had not Mrs. Kent objected to it.
This implies rather an uncommon character in Madam
Kent, as she was always called, and tradition confirms the
impression. " She was the daughter of Rev. Nathaniel
Gookins, minister in Cambridge, and granddaughter of the
celebrated Major-General David Gookins, who is spoken of
as' the constant, pious, and persevering companion' of the
Rev. John Eliot in his labours for the Indians."  Miss
Gookins was for some time under the care and instruction
of Rev. Mr. Bradstreet, a distinguished clergyman in
Charlestown.  She first married a Mr. Carter, and had five
children.  Her second marriage, to Colonel Kent, was a
happier connection; they had one son and three daughters,
of whom  Sarah was the youngest.  "Madam  Kent possessed a sound understanding and great benevolence, and was
a most sincere and pious Christian, with nothing of the austerity and bigotry so common at that period.  She used, on




III
winter evenings, to gather her children about her, and read
to them  such books as Mather's Magnalia, Sir Charles
Grandison, or some work on English History. She was
thoroughly imbued with the teachings of the best Book, and
by these endeavoured to guide and direct her children."
It was one of Madam Kent's rules that no stranger should
leave her home till his wants were supplied as far as possible, and such hospitality in those days was often important.
Colonel Kent removed from the Island to Newbury, and
there, after his death, Madam Kent opened a small shop
in her house, and by labor and wise care brought up her
children in comfort and respectability.  By means of one
of her charitable deeds, many particulars of her life, family,
and times might have been preserved to us, could we have
measured the interest they would now possess.  But in
youth's vivid interest in the present, we did not estimate
the treasures of memory held by the dear old lady we
loved so well.
A little girl named Nanny Huse, being sent one day to
Madam Kent's shop, she was so much attracted by the
child's manners and sweet looks, that she interested herself
to find out her family and condition; and learning that she
was destitute of friends as well as means, she took her into
her family, and there she remained faithful and devoted
to her kind friend, till the death, not only of Madam
Kent, but of her daughter, Mrs. Burt, who left her an
annuity.  Years later, when paralysis had partially disabled
her, Miss Atkins, a granddaughter of her benefactress,
took her to her home, where she died, tenderly cared for,
in I822. " Aunt Nanny," as all called her, formed one
of the many charms of that cheerful home in Newbury,




112
the gathering-place of children, grandchildren, and hosts
of friends, who might have been supposed to be equally
related, so many were permitted to call "ur.' Grandmother,"
and Miss Atkins "Aunt Becky." Aunt Nanny was always
on hand, when the young visitors arrived from Boston, with
bright, cordial welcome, and eager attention to their comfort
and pleasure, moving about in her dark stuff dress and
white apron, a square muslin kerchief crossed over her
bosom, her gray hair drawn smoothly back under a linen
mob-cap, and with such a sweet smile, and gentle, loving
look in her brown eyes, that merely to look at her
seemed to make us better and happier. The great-grandchildren of her early friend desired nothing better than to
be caressed and admired by her, and to listen to her stories
of old times.
Miss Sarah Kent, the youngest daughter of Colonel Kent,
was noted in h&r youth for gayety and cheerfulness, - the
tokens of a strong and healthy character, that helped
to sustain her through a long life of much sorrow and
heavy cares.  She attracted the love of a circle of young
friends by her qualities and mental powers, for neither
beauty nor wealth belonged to her.  Her features were
large but refined; both lips were thin, the upper one long;
her chin expressed decision and firmness; her eyes were
bright, but a cast in one of them was a serious blemish.
Her figure was tall, upright, and slim, her motions were
dignified, and it was said she had "a winning, gracious
manner," that, combined with her animation, strong, cultivated mind, quick wit, and generous, active sympathy, won
devoted friends of all ages, and from the most intelligent
circles. In her later years, well-earned self-reliance, costly
experience, and strong feeling, led her to a frankness of




II3
remark and advice, that sometimes overawed her young
friends and disciples; but her tact and ready sympathy
soon restored ease  and courage, and they gained mental
strength from the tonic application.
When she was seventeen, she proved one night the courage and presence of mind that were always afterwards such
a support and blessing to those under her care. She had remained reading in the parlor after every one had been long
in bed, and when preparing to go herself, in attempting
to fasten a back-door, she felt some one pressing against it.
Opening it immediately, she found two sailors, who, when
she asked their business, pretended they wanted something from the shop.  Choosing to appear to believe them,
she led them through the house to the shop, gave them
what they asked for, and dismissed them by another door.
Whatever their intentions had been, they gave her no annoyance beyond the first alarm, which she had so well controlled by her firmness and self-possession.  She used to
tell her grandchildren that, when she was young, her health
was not good enough for sewing and reading, but that
she always had enough for walking, running, and dancing!
Heavy cares and responsibilities so filled the larger part of
a long life, and were so faithfully sustained, that strong
foundations must have been laid in those years which she
represented as so thoughtless.  She taught the many young
people under her care and influence, by example as well as
precept, never to lose a moment, nor to let any faculty diminish by inaction, and, while stimulating their powers, she
had the skill and tact, to make them  not only enjoy work,
but believe themselves usefuil.
Within my remembrance, -when time, infirmities, and
the devotion of her children had lessened care and anxiety,
I 5




II4
-her chief delight was in watching over a large garden,
where vegetables, flowers, and fruit flourished under her
skilful direction, and where arbors, seats, and a swing,
made youth happy, after the allotted time for following
her steps with basket, trowel, and other implements had
passed.   Another charming picture in my memory is
that of seeing her spin flax on a small, highly finished English wheel, - her figure perfectly upright, her dress a delicate shade of light-brown stuff, a square kerchief of white
gauze, or transparent " mode," crossed in front, with a simple
cap (almost like a Quaker's) of the same material, covering her smooth white hair. In the next room, sometimes
in the same, the daughter whose heart and life were devoted to sustaining and cheering her mother's hours, standing by the large wheel, almost as tall as herself, drew from
it substantial yarn, with that deep resonant whirr, of which
I can find no illustration, - a sound by itself, - unknown
to the present generation.
Miss Sarah Kent, in her youthful castle-building, asserted
that she would never marry an only son, a man younger
than herself, or one who was not occupied by some regular
business; but when she said so, she had not seen the young
Dudley Atkins, who, including in himself all these objections, proved his power to overcome them. Their attachment was strong and enduring.
On one point there was a great difference of opinion and
feeling between them, and but for the good sense and liberality of Madam  Kent, much trouble to the young people
might have grown from it. Mrs. Atkins had stipulated
before her marriage -from a strong prejudice against the
Episcopal Church, to which Mr. Atkins belonged - that
she should be permitted to attend the church of her youth,




IIS
-the Rev. Dr. Lowell's; but, after a few Sundays of attendance at different churches, Madam Kent entreated her
daughter, if she could overcome her repugnance, to leave
her and accompany her husband to the Episcopal Church.
This she did, and became much attached to the service,
and the comfort it gave her was conspicuous.  Liberality,
however, was not only an inheritance, but a part of her
own growth; and her respect and friendship were almost
equally given to Bishop Bass of the Episcopal, and Mr.
Cary of the Congregational Church (the latter the successor
of Dr. Lowell), both of whom were her devoted friends
during their lives.
Mr. Atkins, not having been bred to business, was unfortunate in various undertakings, and suffered severely from
his disappointments. An only son, unaccustomed to restraint or self-denial, of a generous, genial nature,  the
consequences of failure were hard for him to bear. Then
it became evident that his wife was gifted with the power to
sustain and cheer him. She would assure him that nothing
was needed for the family, receive his friends with cordial
hospitality, and relinquish luxuries and conveniences for
herself. While the family increased, the means of living
diminished.  Six children  were to  be  provided  for, —
Mary, Joseph, Hannah,* Catherine, Dudley, and Rebecca.
Of course the Dudley, Kent, and Atkins families were
sturdy loyalists, and equally of course, as the spirit of the
people rose against the Government, those who adhered to
it were objects of suspicion and watchfulness.  In I764,
when the revolutionizing Stamp Act was to go into opera- On the birth of Hannah, Mrs. Atkins had the courage to discard the habitual swathing and bandaging of young infants, and, though encountering the fears and expostulations
of adherents to old customs, her example was soon followed, and babydom was free.




I6I
tion, those called Tories were supposed likely to be commissioned to receive and circulate the Stamps, which those
who were not Tories were determined should not be distributed.  One night a tumultuous mob had gathered in
Newbury to overawe and protest at least, and came to Mr.
Atkins's house demanding to see him. Three Tory gentlemen were staying in the house while attending the Court in
Newburyport, but every one was in bed excepting Mrs.
Atkins. She opened the door and stood alone before the
excited multitude.  She asked what they wanted at that
late hour? They called for Mr. Atkins, and said they
must see him, for he must tell them if he was in favor of
the Stamp Act.  She told them that Mr. Atkins was in
Boston, and that they must go to him for his opinion on
that or any other matter; that it was very late, and she
begged they would not disturb her family any longer.
" We don't mean to hurt you, ma'am," said a leader. " I
have no apprehension that you do," she answered. Just
then several gentlemen, who had heard that Mr. Atkins
was threatened, came to Mrs. Atkins and offered their aid
to protect her; but she promptly declined their kindness,
aware that it might easily lead to violence, and, saying that
she felt no fear, begged them to go home. The mob,
seeing her calmness and courage, felt awkward and ashamed,
and began to move off, one fellow having the meanness to
hold out his hat.  Mrs. Atkins threw a dollar into it, and
they disappeared, shouting and calling out that she was "a
fine woman," " the right sort," &c.  Mrs. Atkins closed
her door with a thankful heart that the danger had passed,
and that the presence of her inmates had not been discovered; had it been known whom she was sheltering, it would
have strongly increased suspicion and indignation.




117
In 1767 Mr. Atkins died, after only a week's illness, of a
malignant fever, at the age of thirty-six, in the prime of life
and vigor, leaving his widow overwhelmed by the heavy and
sudden blow, deep sorrow, and sharp anxiety for the future.
When able to take counsel, she sent for her half-brother,
Mr Carter, and Captain Tracy, also a relative, -both
men of large property, to whom she might naturally look
for kindness and help. She told them that, it being necessary she should do something for the support of her family,
she proposed to open a shop in her own house, as her
mother had done; that in starting she should need help, and
she begged them to tell her if in their judgment there was
any more suitable plan. The gentlemen, probably, did not
approve of supplying her with goods, and proposed, as a
substitute, that she should give up her house, sell her furniture, and distribute her children among her friends. One
can imagine how these cold-hearted suggestions would rouse
a grieved and vehement spirit, and quicken the tenderness
of a wise and faithful mother.  " She knew it ought not to
be done," declined decisively, and we hear no more of Mr.
Carter or Captain Tracy.
It was not long, however, before real and sympathizing
friends came to her aid. At this time Mr. Jonathan Jackson, the head of the family so long known in Boston, was
living in Newburyport, as a partner in business with Mr.
Bromfield, and both gentlemen were Mrs. Atkins's firm
friends. These gentlemen, learning her wish, offered to
supply her with goods, to be paid for at her convenience,a generous offer, which was at once accepted; and though the
power to pay in money was long delayed, debts of kindness
accumulated on both sides. The shop was soon arranged;
Mrs. Atkins spared no labor, strength, or ingenuity to add




I I8
to her resources; she made candles, soap, and potashes,
employing a man to collect materials, and help in the
work; and by such efforts, with the most exact economy
and self-denial, she succeeded in keeping her children with
her, and in preparing them to be useful, respected, valued
members of society.  Truly may her descendants rise and
call her blessed.*
A few  years later another heavy sorrow came to her in
the death of her daughter Hannah, by a terrible fever,
which prostrated all the children.  The rest were saved,
and her sorrow was softened by gratitude.
In April, 1775, came the rising of the people against the
abuse of power, and one day a Mr. Tracy galloped through
the streets of Newbury, crying " The British are coming,
the British are coming! "  Mrs. Atkins was not at home,
but her five young people, hearing the cry, thought it time
for them to be off; they closed the doors carefully, and
walked away with the one idea of escaping from the soldiers. A friend, fortunately meeting the young pilgrims,
took them to his house; and there the wondering mother
found them, relieved from their fears. At this time of
alarm and trouble, Tories from Boston sought safety in
Newbury and neighboring towns, and those of the same
faith in Newbury, thought it best to retreat still farther.
Mrs. Atkins, one of the firmest adherents to the English
Government, determined to remove to Amesbury, a small
village three miles from her home; and, taking the goods
from her small shop and some furniture, established herself
in a small cottage with a Quaker family. The rooms were
* There is a striking similarity in the characters, circumstances, and conduct of my two
grandmothers. I do not know what became of Captain Atkins's property. His son's
family did not inherit it.




II9
very small, but it was necessary for the six added inmates
to make them smaller by curtains, in order that the places
for sleeping, cooking, and eating might be separated, though
by little more than fictitious divisions.  Here they lived five
years in restriction that amounted to poverty, but I remember hearing my mother and aunts often refer to their happiness in those years.  Mutual love, intelligent, active minds,
the enjoyment from a really rural life, with visits from kind
and faithful friends, gave happiness as well as content.
It is remarkable how much of the intellect, influence, and
power we have felt in our society originated in little Newbury.  I have mentioned Mr. Jackson, the father of three
sons, so distinguished and widely useful in Boston; he himself Treasurer of Massachusetts and of Harvard College,
Member of the Provincial Congress, and first Marshal of
Massachusetts District. I do not know how long he lived
in Newbury, but he was certainly in blusiness there in I767,
and was always a faithful friend to Mrs. Atkins. He at
one time placed two of his daughters under her care.
The ancestor of the Lowell family, emigrating from
England, settled in Newbury, and there his much-respected
descendant, appointed a Judge by Washington in I789, and
in I8OI, on the new organization of the Court, made Chief
Justice of the First Circuit, lived for some time.  His
sons and grandsons have generously used large gifts and
powers amongst us.
Here came, to study under Judge Lowell, "the young,
beautiful, and excellent Christopher Gore," who afterwards
filled such a series of high offices, - United States Attorney for Massachusetts, Commissioner with Mr. William
Pinkney to settle claims upon England for spoliations,
Charge d'Affaires  in London  when  Mr. Rufus King




120
returned from his embassy, Governor of Massachusetts,*
and her Senator in Congress.  He was an affectionate and
much-loved visitor at Amesbury.
Mr. Gore's intimate friend, Mr. Rufus King, of Scarborough, Maine, distinguished in college for his brilliant
powers, afterwards of such eminent benefit to his country,
having studied with Judge Parsons in Boston, settled in
Newbury as a lawyer in 1780, and he also shared my grandmother's admiration and kindness.  It is a striking list, and
one can well imagine how such friends were greeted by the
exiles  at  the  " lion's  mouth,"  as  their  retreat was  called.
Mrs. Atkins's manner of receiving kindnesses was striking,
her gratitude was heartfelt, yet natural and frank, with a
simple dignity, produced by the conviction that she pleased
* In I809, when Mr. Gore was Governor of Massachusetts, he made a sort of State
progress through Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Maine, in a showy close carriage,
with four horses, with his aides, and an escort of cavalry.  It was so unpopular an affair
that it probably prevented his re-election.  In passing through Newbury he stopped with
his brilliant cortege at Madam Atkins's modest home, touching and gratifying her by his
respect and affection, and greatly dazzling her grandchildren and neighbors.  He was then
forty-seven years old, in the fullest vigor of his life'and powers; his uncommon gifts of mind,
person, and manners, developed and rounded by faithful effort, and every advantage during
eight years' diplomatic service in England.  Few amongst us have combined so much.
Madam Atkins was then seventy-nine years old, delicate and feeble, but retaining her
natural vivacity and quick interest, her erect figure and dignity of bearing.  She had heard
of the honor intended her, and was seated as usual at a favorite window in her arm-chair,
with her feet upon a footstool, when a procession of town dignitaries arrived to notify her
of the approach of the Governor, and greatly to the mischievous delight of the young
group about her (one of my sisters being of the number) the leader of the party, or head
official, carried away by excitement or reverence, knelt before her on her footstool, while
he made his announcement and received her thanks.
In a letter from Mr. Gore to one of Madam Atkins's daughters, is this passage (I do
not know to what meeting he alludes):-" I have done everything in my power to please
your mother and Joe, and I hope I have not failed in every point.  The love I entertain
for them made me completely happy in their presence.  Words could not express my joy
at seeing your mother.  At once I forgot all my sorrows  and what before was to me a
mountain is now but a mole-hill. My disposition is such that at sight of a friend whom I
love, my troubles all vanish, and nothing but joy is seated on my countenance."




121
by accepting, and that, if it were in her power, it would
delight her to do as much.  But, beyond the grace of
acknowledging kindness, she was worthy of such companionship as I have described, through her strength of
thought and readiness and vigor of expression.  Friends
were attracted and attached.
At Amesbury, Mrs. Atkins found unaccustomed leisure,
and used it for reading, which she said she had never
enjoyed so much. Her favorite books were biographies,
sermons, essays, and novels, in which she sought aid in
her study of character and human life, -- subjects that interested her deeply.  She avoided, in reading and conversation, gloomy or despondent thoughts, striving always to
keep and to inspire in others a cheerful and hopeful spirit.
I give here, for the sake of the domestic facts contained in
it, an extract from one of her letters to Mr. George Searle,
a cousin of Mr. Gore's, to whom  she was much attached,
and who, two years afterwards married her oldest daughter.
cc April, I777.
" I have at last taken pen in hand to acknowledge the
receipt of two letters from Halifax, with what pleasure I
need not tell you.  Your good mother is with us still, and
has her health as well as is common with her, and seems as
contented as can be expected, considering everything.  I
heard she was uneasy in Boston, and last September I sent
and desired, if she could content herself to live as we did,
that she would come to Amesbury, and am determined
nothing shall be wanting in my power to make her happy.
Joe [Mrs. Atkins's son] went last September to Philadelphia,
was gone about a month, carried a venture, and it turned
out to advantage. Soon after his return, he sailed with Cap



122
tain Tileston for Bilboa, from whence I expect him soon.
Commodore [the youngest son, Dudley] is at school yet.
His master [Mr. Moody, of Dummer Academy] is not
only  his  tutor, but his  great benefactor.   Last fall he
made some efforts towards getting an education for him,
and made application to some near connection, but was
repulsed.  He was too tender to say anything to me about
it, but I heard of it another way.  But he told the lad not
to be discouraged, he would give him a year's living, and
he did  not doubt but he could get him  entered then.  I
have as much  business here, I believe, as I should have
had at Newbury, and, upon  the whole, pass my hours very
agreeably.  Sam  and Kit* were to see us about three weeks
ago; I think Kit very promising, and I hear Mr. Lowell
is much pleased with him."
In February, 1780, Mrs. Atkins returned to Newbury.
Part of the family had gone before her, upon roads covered
with three feet of snow, leaving only Mrs. Atkins and her
son Dudley to follow the next day, but in the night a
rapid thaw came on, making it impossible for her to leave
Amesbury. What was to be done? Her presence was
indispensable in Newbury. Money would have been of
no use in the case. The day passed with all the patience
that could be summoned, but it was not possible to wait
another. Something must be done; and she finally acSamuel Gore and his brother Christopher. The son, Dudley, was educated at Harvard, and graduated I78I. He studied law, and was for many years Reporter of the
Supreme Court, having previously been Collector at Newburyport. He took the name of
Tyng on inheriting an estate in Tyngsborough from a Mrs. Winslow, a descendant of
Governor Dudley, who was an ancestor also of my uncle. Mr. Tyng was a gentleman of
the highest honor and fidelity, a Christian cheerfulness and equanimity, and a kindness and humor that attracted young and old. He married successively two sisters, daughters of Mr. Stephen Higginson, of Boston, and had a large family.




123
cepted a quaint conveyance arranged by her son. He fastened an arm-chair securely upon a hand-sled, put a hot
foot-stove upon it, wrapped his mother in all the warm
things they could command, and, with the help of a boy,
drew her on the sled about half-way to her house. There
the boy gave out, and Dudley could not, with all his goodwill, accomplish the rest alone; so he left his mother at a
house near by, went to Newbury and procured two strong
men, with whose aid the peculiar journey was easily completed.* Mrs. Atkins's house was in the upper part of
the town, then thinly settled, a small, awkward, primitive, unpainted building, an immense chimney in the
centre, the roof sloping from a two-story front to the
one low story behind; no fence separated it from the
road, but there was a small garden attached to it.
In the winter of 1786 Miss Catherine Atkins visited
Mrs. Benjamin Lincoln, in Boston.t This was, undoubtedly, a great event in her life of seclusion at Newbury and
Amesbury, varied only by rare excursions to Portsmouth
and Salem. She was then twenty-eight years old, very
handsome, with a quiet and dignified manner; her features
were finely formed and proportioned; - her brow noble,
* As Mrs. Atkins passed the house of her friend Mr. Dalton, several gentlemen of her
acquaintance, collected there for a dinner-party, rushed out to greet and congratulate her
on her novel equipage, with great animation. I have no doubt she gave them even pay in
jokes and cordiality.
t Mr. Lincoln was the son of General Benjamin Lincoln, and married the daughter of
Mr. James Otis. They had two sons, Benjamin and James. Benjamin had no children.
James, who married Miss Stillman, had two daughters, one of whom, Mrs. Henry D.
Rogers, is the only survivor.  Mrs. Lincoln (Miss Atkins's friend) survived her husband and subsequently married Rev. Dr. Ware, but lived only a short time after this
marriage.




I24
high, and beautifully white; her eyes of a rich hazel, soft
and clear; her mouth expressed great refinement and sweetness, mingled with decision, and the lips were always freshly
red. I have a miniature * painted about this time, representing her hair — dark, abundant, and curled - with a blue
ribbon passed through it, according to the fashion of the
time. Her height and figure were good, and in her whole
person and every motion there was an expression of modest
sweetness and dignity that inspired a respect and affection,
which intimate acquaintance only confirmed and increased.
My beautiful, my excellent mother! How can I paint
her faithfulness, her attractiveness, her animation and quick
perceptions, and her retiring modesty; her tender care of
her children, her true sympathy with others, her patience
in trials and sorrows? Words cannot do it. We say too
little or too much. The life and the form it breathed
through were in harmony. She maintained a firm adherence to duty without formality, a simple directness of manner that did not wound, a gentle yielding to the tastes and
peculiarities of others; while at times a naturally vehement
nature would assert itself.  Her cultivated mind, strong
sense, and the tact of kind feelings, stimulated and mouldedby the sincerest religious belief, exercised a power, and
won a degree of respect and affection, quite unmeasured
by herself.
I have mentioned the strong impression Mr. Eliot received from his first sight of Miss Atkins. There is no
record left of her sensations on that occasion, or of the
X From which the accompanying photograph was taken.








.......
ii!!i~i~,1!i~!~~i~




125
effect of his visits at Mrs. Lincoln's and first attentions to
herself. She no doubt heard of his respectability, intelligence, and ripening fortunes; but this last feature in the
sketch would, with her, rather check than aid his suit, for
her sensitive nature had been nurtured with strong teachings as to independence of externals, and the indispensable
dignity of never desiring wealth.  The following letter,
however, shows that Mr. Eliot was hopeful, and that he
thought it his duty to petition first for the mother's consent to his wishes.
From  Miss  t kins to her Sister, Mrs. AM. R. Searle,
Newburyport.
"You know before this time, I dare say, a piece of news
which, though I was particularly interested, I did not hear
till last night.  Mr. Lincoln told me he received it from
George EMr. Searle].  A  more perplexing affair I never
had concern in before.  What will be the result, Heaven
only knows.  I slept about three hours last night.
"Stranger as I am to the character, and impossible as it
now appears to come at the knowledge of the most important part,-the  domestic,-I aIm  almost tempted to
refuse any further intercourse.  For I am not pleased with
the suddenness of the matter;'t is not possible he is influenced only by his own observations, unless he is of that
rank of men we are used to despise, who are seized by an
air or a smlart speech.  And if a character at second hand
is sufficient to make him  say what I have had hinted,
he cannot, I think, have such an idea of the sacredness
and delicacy of [marriage] as I have cultivated  in my
mind.




i26
"I certainly would not trust the most knowing and
judicious friend that ever was to choose for me.  I am
not either prude or coquette.  I am  not of an age to be
governed by fancv merely, nor am I of that prudent class
of persons who Call sacrifice all other tastes to be gratified
in house and maintenance.  I would not trifle with any
one; but of all people I shall be least disposed to trifle
with myself.  Most sincerely do I wish to know what is
and ought to be.  My situation is not so wretched that I
must fly from it without knowing whither I am going, nor
is it so completely happy but my imagination can figure a
something better.  But I would hardly consent to go into
Paradise blindfold, much less take the most important step
in life without knowing what ground I stand upon.  His
knowledge of my character must come from  Kit [Mr.
Gore], and if he is a good client, he [Mr. Gore] may wish
him as good a fiend as I am capable of making.
" But can he be so totally lost to all virtue as to be
thoughtless of my happiness, or willingly sacrifice it to his
interests?"
[No conclusion or signature.]
From  Mrs. Atkins to her Da ughter Catherine.
"Never did a mother feel more for a daughter than I
have for the last twenty-four hours. I have so entered into
your state of mind that I don't think I should havte felt
more sympathy had I heard of your being racked with- pain.
Mr. L incoln was wanting in the knowledge of our fmily
to treat the matter so abruptly  hbut you say your mi ind is
more composed, which I am very glad of.
CI don't know that I can say anything upon the subject




127
that will be new, as you know it has been a very frequent
one between us. I hope you will bear it in mind, -that
views of interest must never sway too much, as wealth can
never purchase happiness where there is want of esteem
and attachment; but I would at the same time caution
you against over-refined notions,-  an error which I think
you the most liable to.
" Mr. Searle gives me a very good character of the person, and I think you will do nothing rashly.  Becky is
going into town [Newburyport], to make a visit of a few
days, and to-day I intend to devote to solitude and thinking
of my Katy.  I shall say nothing of your coming home, as
I shall leave that to your brother and sisters.  Dudley is
pretty impatient to see you, and I think I need not tell you
how much I long to see you.
Wednesday Morning."
From Miss Atkins to Mrs. Searle, Newbur3port.
"' My DEAR POLLY, -Did you recollect my fixed aversion to complimentary speeches, my want of belief of
my exciting them justly, and my simplicity in answering
them, you would not wonder at my agitation.  You may
as well compare fire to snow, as the language I have heard
lately to ain I ever heard before on the like subject; and
when he has uttered the most vehement things, he assures
me he has never used a passionate expression, - "''tis
only cool reason';'t is true this affords me the pleasure
of laughing. I do not wish for obduracy of heart, but
for dignity of manner most sincerely do I wish; and I
am thinking if I cannot behave in that style here, where of




z28
so much seeming consequence, what figure I shall make
at home.   My honours will all be lost, and I be left to
make myself a character.'.*...  The hour I mentioned in my last to George
was pleasing to me; and if so, it may be presumed not
unpleasing to.  Did not see him  yesterday.  fhe
is attending the Supreme Court as Grand Jurym-an.  At
seven o'clock in the evening came his man with a billert to
Mrs. Lincoln, entreating her'to let him  know of her
health, &c., as that was all the satisfaction he could elnjoy'"
[N o signature.]
From  Mrs. Atkins to/ her Daughter Catherine.
"My dear,- Remember you are in a state of imperfection.  If you meet with a character where, upon examination, you find the virtues outweigh the imperfections, you
must value them....     A bystander would judge that
you were going to suffer martyrdom, from Becky's and my
appearance; but I think it a weakness rather than anything
else to be so very uneasy...    You will not fail, I'm
sure, of representing the circumstances of the familvy; let
him know all the worst; it perhaps may save  ne the disagreeable task; and let him  come, that I may see him,
and perhaps we shall all be merry together: who knows?
Tell Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln that I love them very nmuch
for their attention to you.
"( It may be that the representing the state of our family
may alter the plan; and if anything of that kind can, don't
fail of letting him  know the whole.  If this is a repetition, you can excuse it, as you know how much iiiy nlind
has always been in that way.  I think the parties cannot be




1 29
too careful of never deceiving one another in every respect.
I don't think there is much occasion for mienntioning it to
you, but I hope it won't be taken amiss.
" Your very affectionate t:othther,
i SARAiH ATKINS."
[Indorsed,  FI;ebruary, i786."]
]romz MzViss Atikins to her A/other.
"Saturday Everling.
C MY DEAR MADAM, -I was interrupted in my last to
rou, just as I was mentioning iIr E.  lie has put an
amazing degree of power into mny hands; whether I shall
use it properly is not vet known.  I tfeel it a painful exercise of all my knowledge, and doubts will always be in nmy
mind as to propriety.'Were it any one but myself, there wouhld not be half
the doubt; but I have been so little used to think highly
of myself, that,-in short, what I hear seems little short
of romanice to me.  If I have the least vanity, sure it
will be drawn foirth now.  I have objected to his particular attention to me by the means of Kit; for I have not
said anything, and I am  obeyed as implicitly as you can
conceive.  He has great anirmation, strong fuelings, and a
great propensity to say civil things; but he has so much
address, that even the silence and restraint that is desired
of him he can turn to his advanltage,
I"  have learnt from Kit to-day that his apprentices love
him and apply to him as to a father; his man-servant has
lived with him five years, his mnaid-servant some time before his wife's death, and he has no thought of parting with
either.  These things are in his favour, are they not?  But




130
the daughter is still a stranger.  Mrs. Lincoln intends to
ask to have her come and spend a day with us.  It will not
be wrong, I hope.'ro go home without seeing her will
be letting forms conquer reason, I think."
"3Wednesdav Afternoon.
"I was happy beyond my power of expression to see
Mr. Searle last evening, and in reading the very affectionate
letters from you, Dudley, and Becky. I cannot lament
my late uneasiness, for it has discovered, if not created, so
much friendship and affection in you towards me, that I
shall ever view it as a blessing.... George will be a
very great support to me. I love him and feel a confidence
in his judgment. Your observations were so good to me,
though not new, I have read them  twice, and shall read
them  ten times more.
"As to the circumstances of our family being known, it
must be done by some one beside me, or not at all, for I
cannot do it at present.  George is to pass a part of this
evening with him, by his very particular request.  Mr.
Lincoln exclaims, when I tallk,' Katy is a novelty in the
history of woman; uneasy that she is too much respected,
and wishing to be made ill of; to lessen the warmth of attachment.'  You love me, and I hope will be candid.  I
am  afraid of everything.
"It shall be my study to keep in the proper line; may
I believe, if with sincerity (my modesty opposes my adding
what I wish I could think), I shall do right?
" Adieu, my dear Madam, and believe nme to be, with as
much affection as possible, your
(,C. A.'




I3I
From Mr. Searle to Mrs.  ary KR. Searle.
" NEWBURYP(PORT. [No date.]
" DEAR POLLY, - I find I shall not get home this week.
I think I never but once was more happily employed, and
if I do but relieve Katie's mind in proportion as I burthen
my own, my happiness will be heightened.
"I got here in very good season, on Tuesday; drank
tea at Lincoln's with Mrs. L. and Katie, and a Miss
Philips, which, as you may naturally suppose, was an interruption to our enjoyment.  Spent the evening with Lincoln
at Harry Hill's Club; on our return, found Mr. Eliot,
who had also been in the same suffering condition for some
hours, the visitor having just departed before we came in.
Eliot's first address was very engaging.  Katie and I spent
about two hours together after the family were in bed.
The next morning I had hardly risen when I received the
enclosed.  Having before determined to make nmyself
fully acquainted with the man as possible, I had no inclination to neglect so fair an opportunity. Wednesday
evening, of course, was spent at Eliot's, in private, uninterrupted conversation,  and, I confess to you, I was
charmed with the man's candour, pleased with his good
sense, and convinced that his views were not only honourable, but disinterested, and his attachment warm  and at
the heart.  After that, you may suppose, I was not his
enemr.  The close of this evening was also spent with
Katie.
"Yesterday morning   I wrote you a line; dined witIh
Eliot, C. Gore, and B. Lincoln, and the afternoon Kit and
I traversed every height and walk that the town afforded;
and to add to my perambulations, as I returned to Lin



132
corn's before dark, Katie walked to the top of Beacon Hill
with me, after which I spent an hour or two at Kit's, and
tihe remainder of the evening very agreeably  at Iancotn's,
Mr. Eliot in comjpany, and no intruders.  IThe two hours
after bedtime were, as usual, devoted to Katie and rauself
Ihe good girl, when she went to bed, said she was mutch
relieved, and, for my ow'n part, so pleasing a burthen never
befbre engrossed my attention.  It has been so much on
my mind during the night that I have slept but little, ard
rose with the dawn to write this journal to you, which, I
dare say, will appear very extraordinary, and convince you
that something uncommon has induced it."
[No signature.]
What follows, from  Miss Atkins, is on the same sheet
as the above.
"Yes, my dear Polly, he has taken the burthenn from my
mind, -  that part at least which could be removed. A. great
share is still remaining.  My head is still full, though less
painfully than when I thought alone.  George is attentive
to all that is to be seen, and is as much interested as I
wish him to be, perhaps, but cannot tell.
"I had a good, night after sav'ing a few silly things to
him, which, I have not had before for a long time.  Thank
Dudley and Becky for their letters.  I shall never love
them  enough for the interest thevr take in my happiness.
I intend to write after the family are in bed this evening,
if George and I do not talk too 1o g.  Mir:. iliot is now
in the other roomi, waiting ftr fny ladyship, that he niay
begin to read a play, which, I suspect, will be read   well,
from a specimen we had the other night.  Don't let Dudlev think amiss of my remaining here; it would be cruel




'33
to  Mrs. iincoln to leave her now.  I only  thought of
going to spend the afternoon out, and her husband, from
her appearance of dejection, begged me to stay at home,
for that was the cause, he did not doubt.  I will think of
his delicacy when I find mny own fail; it shall support my
character.  I love him for it.
" Adieu.  You must love me, or all India's wealth will
not make happy
"Your affectionate
" CATHERINE ATKINS.
"Kiss all the little ones for me.  I lo ve them  almost
too much.  Should I ever be a stranger to them, it would
hurt mne."
It is rare to see the course of such strong feeling so
simply  developed  by the individuals themselves; and it
seems to me that if I had read these interesting letters as
from  strangers, I should have been struck by the expressions of fine character they contain.  Dignity, truthfulness,
modest selfldistrust, yet courage and decision, anxiety for
the right, refinement,  and warm  fLmily  affiction,  are al1
visible, and form  a combination that was shown in Mrs.
Eliot's whole life, and will keep these  letters  always a
fresh  and  living picture.  The letter to  Mrs. Belknap,
which precedes them, was dated March  I, and shows that
Miss Atkins had returned home previously.  Mr. Eliot
never willingly waited  for xwhat he desired, if his own
efforts, or a stimulus to the activit:   of others, could gain
his point.  Great must l ave been the interest and excitement in the small cotta;ge   in Newburyv, while preparations
This  ugll -y priniti ve dwelling in as still standing   inl i 2 o, arid I oihen wondered iow  the
fanily and household goods could find shelter there, Judge Prescott, iLther of the his



134
were made to send so precious a part of the household to
a place so distant as Boston then appeared.
On the 14th of May, I786, Mr. Eliot returned to Boston with his bride, and  I can well understand the delight
with which he placed this beautiful and intelligent woman
at the head of his pretty establishment, -  a homne won by
his uprightness and industry, and arranged and ornameinted
by his taste and liberality.
Mrs. Eliot left a home enriched  by warm  affections,
dignified and honored by usefulness,  mutual service, and
the absence of all external luxuries, and enlivened by intellectual intercourse  with  cultivated  minds.  She came  to
take upon herself new duties, to meet new friends, to enjoy
the power of dispensing comfort and cheerfulness to many.
FIaithfiully did she use her gifts and opportunities, but the
burdens were  not small.   The  young  daughter, eleven
years old, had hardly had her fair share of gentle and wise
guidance, and her characteristics were anything  but neutral,
-  ruling the servants, and, in a great degree, her Papa. The
prompt and cheerful obedience that was part of the Atkins
creed was unimagined by her then.  IThe servant who had so
long exercised the capacities she herself estimated highlly,
was more accustomed to being coaxed than directed, and
the circle of intimates included some strong ingredients.
Some of the brothers of the first Mrs. Eliot were free in
manners, language, and opinions, loud-voiced, and jovial;
Mrs. Andrews was gentle and  refined, but she claimed
indulgence  and  admiration,  sympathy  in  sentimnentalismu
and imalginary ills; Mrs. Ha- ley,  besides being fearfully
torian, told M1r. Ticknor that he was attendins Court in Newbury at the time of tshe wedding; that r. Eli ot drove in. his phaeton, withi his bays and black servant, to Mirs,
Atkions's bhouse  and that thei yount men of Newbu.ly anIl their triienlds thouglgt it lard
that na middle-aged widower should car-y onff their beautitwi young townsworma ta




135
ugly, was coarse and overbearing in her manners; and Mrs.
Job  Prince  soon  dropped  out of the  circle, from   the
absence of any  quality  that could  sustain  her in  it.  It
required  courage and  tact, sweetness and good judgment,
in a young lady of twenty-eight, to harmonize and accommnodate such  nmaterials, when habits of intimacy had been
long established, and the style of manners accepted.  But
it was accomplished.   The  Messrs. Barrell lowered their
voices and restrained their jokes, and both Mr. and  Mrs.
Andrews became her attached  friends.
At that time-  as in many succeeding years -  newly imarried ladies " sat up for company"n          for several days, and  it
was  said  that Mrs. Eliot had  numerous  and  admiring
visitors.  These  visits were not returned  in  the  present
brief, cool fashion, by bits of pasteboard, but by liberal
tributes of time, -  a half-hour in the morning, an hour in
the afternoon, or a volunteered tea-drinking, according to
the degree of intimacy enjoyed or wished  for.  It was all
rather hard for the  simple  country  lady, whose modesty
sometimes anounted to shyness, and her humility to selfdistrust.  She shrank  fromt  numbers and from  strangers.*
Mrs. Eliot was industrious from  habit andl  preference,
and  she found  abundant occupation  in  her new  home.
Fannv had never been at school, and  needed patience and
judgment in no common degree.   Hannah must be guided
and  instructed;  and  visitings and much dreaded  dinnerparties, and intercourse with new relatives consumed much
i t was Mr. Eliot's delight tro see his wife richly dressed, and  he occasionally imported
from London articles she thougIht too finre. I lave beent told howv lovely MXis Eliot
looked in a " white satin cloak trimrnmed with red ix fi ur'; and I renaember my oLwn
delight in her beauty, when dressed in a short, hblack velvet pelisse, with a deep lace around
it, worn over a white dress. It was a fvorite amusemsent to us children  to look at the
pretty hats and turbans carefully enclosed in a large box.




I36
time.   In the intervals of these duties she found refreshment in her natural love of gardening, and soon filled the
little space attached to the house with freshness and beauty.
Mr. Eliot, whose previous life: had been too full of anxious
anld active cares to allow hint to cultivate a love of flowers,
soon  shared her interest in them, and  took great pride in
her success.   He  built a smnall greenhouse  and  sent to
England  for roots, seeds, and  bulbs;* and  as time  went
on, the show  of hyacinths, tulips, roses, and  greenhouse
flowers  brought successive groups  of visitors, sometimes
entire strangers, sometimes friends from  the busy regions of
Dock Square, often svmpathising amateurs and gardeners.
Thle year following  Mrs. Eliot's  marriage a heavy grief
fell upon  her and  her famrily  in  the deatlh  of her elder
brother Joseph, then  master of a ship, on his return  from
a long and successful voyage.  In a violent storm  his vessel was driven  upon  rocks almost within  sight of homle;
every  one on board perished, and the ship was wholly  lost.
Mr. Joseph  Atkins  had  a strong  and  upright character,
that had sustained him  under severe disappointnments and
hardships, and  attached  family  and  firiends  by  his frank,
gelnerous, and  affectionate   nature.   His earnest desire  to
aid Ihis mother and  sisters, often  disappointed,   had   been
now  nearly attained; Mrs. Atkins had just removed to a
better  house  in  the  hope  of receiving him;  bu  at  the
age of thirty,  he was lost,  and  there  being  no  insurance
on his ship, a heavy pecuniary loss ws w          added to the grief
i Many long letters still remain from Mr. Eliot's friiend, Mi'. i vardi of Lonodn (for
whom his second son was naed), giving minute instructions  for thi cultivation of carnationrs and other flowers and bulbs which he sent out. Mit. Eliot afterwards bounght a piece
of land op poite to his house:, where the Tremont iouse nowv stands, antd thire fbr a year
or two, vegetables were cultivated under Mrs. Eliot's directions, partly to interest and
amuse her bsoys, who for one or two seasons iept hens and chickens there.




I37
of their hearts.  The following letters are characteristic and
touching.
From sMr. Atkins to Hrs. Efot'
Y" ou love mne,  nyv dear daugltter, which is a balIm  to
my distressed  mind, - distressed, but not cast down.  I
thank my God, who  has wondrously   supported me in so
trying a scene.  I believe the prayers which have been
offerede to Heaveln for me have been heard. —I have been
called to receive a visitor.  I thank  ny friends for their
attention, but I love retirement better than ever     f eel
my mind much disposed to confbrm  to ny circumnstances.
You know I have long since been used to a life of economy
so that it  will not be so hard to  ne as to some others, and
Dudley and Becky seem  resigneil.  T ime will wear ofF, in
some measure, our distress.  We are a very harmonious
and, I may say, a very fond Ifatilmy.  Never were children
more attentive than mine.  What gratitude does it call for!
" How shail I express my gratitude to Mr. Eliot?  fie
has my blessing.  May God Almighty reward hima sevenv
fold   Mav vyou, my dearest of daughters, receive every
support under such a trial."
From.Mr s.  tkins i to t r. Eiot/.
" MY DEAK SI:R, -I   have too long delayed  answering
your very friendlvy and affectionate letter; but so it is -- I
cannot account for it — that whenever I take a pen in hand
to express mny mind, my passions are so wirouglt upon that
I find myself quite  lisarmed  of that fortitude wiich, in
general, I have been supported with.  I have indeed felt
x- There are no dates or signatures to these letters.
I8




138
a heavy stroke.  There were not only the ties of nature,
but the friend, the companion, the prop of  my declining
years, in this dear son.  But I will not complain.  No;
I hope never to renounce the faith I have been so firml in,
of a Being that is infinite in wisdom  and goodness.  It
has long since been my petition that I might have that
which is best for me, and in general I find my mind much
disposed to acquiesce in the Divine will.  But there are
ties of affection, which the God of nature has implanted
in the human breast, and how far these affections are to be
indulged, is difficult to know.  Mine, since the death of
my dear husband, have centred in my too dear chlildren;
but I will hope that they will be duly regulated."
One other letter I give, probably written about this year.'rom Mlrs.  tkins to Mrs. Eliot.
"C' Don't be too much struck with the glitter of fortine,'
you know, is an old maxim  with me.  More thar what
gives us the conveniences of life is but a burthen, except
that it puts it in our power to communicate to the necessities and pleasures of others.  My wishes are granted in
having virtuous children.  Riches, you know, I never coveted; bhut that we mighc be a fariily of religion and virtue,
has been my very ardent prayer; and to have the affection
and attention of these children is such a happiness, that I
cannot feel very unlhappy, though at times I must feel
some anxious moments.  It is the lot of hum'anity.  If
I see care upon Dudley's brow, or any other trouble attending this same good family that I amn  so blessed in,
I must feel.




139
"The enclosed present was a very timely supplyv; it has
drawn tears of gratitude from me, and let it draw from you
both the tear of pleasure; both are pleasing.  But let tme
have from  you both affectionate hearts, which to me is
more than any other favour.  I am. sometimes fearful that
Mr. E. will think I do not rate high enough what are
called the goods of fortune; but you know there are things
that very much outweigh them.  Your father had very
much the advantage of  me with regard to fortune, as well
as other things.  But I always thought it enough that he
had my affection."
There was much happiness as well as discipline in the
first years of Mrs. Eliot's married life.  Both she and her
husband were intelligent, in somne degree cultivated, highprincipled, energetic, loving action, and desiring sympathy;
both were impulsive and full of generous feeling, loving
books and intellectual companionship, quick in comprehension and refined in taste.  Mrs. Eliot had been brought
up under very different influences from  those surrounding
Mr. Eliot's youth.  The affectionate and sensitive portions
of her nature had been more developed (subject to the
habits of repression belonging to the time), religious teachings had been cherished in her heart, and wrought into her
life, while love of nature and of all beauty was active in her
and enriching.  Warm  family affection and constant sympathy had been woven into her existence; and as time went
on these gifts and graces swoke in Mr. Eliot's nature what
had only aw aited the fier tolch, -- what had been kept latent
by  the pressure of hard work, anxiety, and inevitable business companionship. The presence of young children added
its discipline and softening power.  In May, 1788, my




I40
beautiful and  brilliant sister  Mary  was born, and  in little
more  than  twelve  years  romn  that time  a group  of seven
healthx  children  filled the house with  life and hope.
Mr.  Eliot's  hospitable  and  social tastes  were  certainly
not checked  by  his added  blessitgs.   He particularly enjoved the gathering of fr-iends at dinner at home and abroad,
and  alwavs claimed   lrs. Eliot's presence when it was possibe.*   He  sought the society  of clergymen;    a circle, he
thought, was  never  complete  without  including  at least
one  of the  profession, and  on Thursday,    when  the  eleven
o'clock lecture  at the First Church  brought mani               y frotn  the
neighboring towns, two  or three of them   oftent  joined our
family  dinner.    His  respect  for  their  profiesson  was so
great that le  used  to  say he would " like  to  have  all his
sons m.ninisters, and all his daughters ministers' wives."   Dr.
Foster  of  Brighton,   I)r.  Richlarc   Eliot  of  Watertown,
Dr. Gray of Jamaica  Plain,  IDr. Osgood  of  IMedf I                rd,    Dr.
Porter of Roxhburv, were  frequently  his gulests;  atnd  Dr.
Lathrop and Dr. Eckley, with their white, flowing wigs and
three-cornered  hats, Dr. Freenan am              d  D)r. John  Eliot,  all
of Boston, were, of course, as often  bidden  to  his  table.
When  these. vetnerab le  mnen   passed    away, their  successors
were  kindly  welcomed.   Mr  Samuel Cary, Mr. Buickminster,  M. Samuel  lhacher,  and  Mr. Charles  Lowell were
frequent and  cheering visitors, bringing  fresh  life and  new
* I lave heard of her presidin  at a iinner with a disfiguring swollen fatec aid, wiith
thie sae  selfsacrificing  sSeettness going to one  with a bandaged hand so painfult as
almost to prodluce.aintness,  Inl thctse. dayi it waSs the cu:tomrn whlen the guests, were all
gentleIemeCn, to s     to  the drawing-roonma 0 befre dinner a  targe IT idia china rmagu  lled
with punchti of geneious mixture,  fom which each   drsk in turnl, A.'noth  r pei uii ari yt
of the time was the absence of turnbiers silver 1s'ug:s anll'oblcts wvere;ised' for cidert aid
porter, but I think wine-glasses neairl satisfied the e whs:ie demand. Thriee;' —proni d steel
forks were luxurious successors  to te of e woi  finger-bowls and ricy  cic'lored doy'lies
were in use, but napkins wetre not known.




141
thoughts, which, however, sometimes startled the backwardlooking mind of age.
At the period I am now speaking of (firom i790) it was
Mr. Eliot's habit to give annual dinners, in the best style
then possible, first to the Governor and Lieutenant-Governor of the year, with some members of the Council and
General Cobb and General Knox of the Revolutionary
Wtar;  and another to the Judges of the Supreme Court
and the prominent lawyers; his own clergynlen, and sometimes others of the profession, forming important members
of the circle.  Great was the preparation to gratify taste
and satisfv hunger at these favorite and genial meetings,
at which the guests did not exceed fourteen or fifteen in
number, and which, beginning at three o'clock, generally
extended  into  the evening.  Other entertainments were
interspersed, when ladies added to the aniration, and when
strangers, sometimes from England, were to be entertained.
At this period Mr. Eliot relaxed his attention to business, trusting many details to young men he had brought
up.  He went regularly to  his store both morning and
afternooni, but often returned for a visit to the garden, or
to make a formal morning call with Mrs. Eliot; and in the
sumImer afternoons took great  delight in driving the fat
bays in the high English phaeton, with Mrs. Eliot and one
little child for his companions. When visits were in the
programme, black Dalton was perched upon the small seat
in front, held the reins, and was ready to attach the portable delicate leather steps, which it demanded no little skill
to imoant and cescend  with grace.  It was much the fashion
in thlose da0ys to   make afternoon visTits at the countr 1houses
of tfriends, to take tea and fruit   Mr. (Gore's beautiful
establishment at Waltham, Mr. Barrell's at Charlestown,




142
Governor  Brooks's  modest home  in  Medford, and  Dr.
Osgood's, were often  the objects of a drive; and  on  the
other side of the town, at Jamaica Plain, Mr. Prince, Mr.
Coffin Jones, Mr. Bussey, and Dr. Gray  were visited.
Those were animated days,  bringing in their train the multiplied cares of young children, housekeeping, and gardening; for the garden and greenhouse had become institutions,
exciting  family  interest and  needing  constant oversighit.
Often, during the hours passed there, tributes arrived from
the store, -rare fruit,  or pigeons bred in the attic, -  with
little notes, some of them  rhymred, like the following" Katiy, I send you this to tell
That I am better, though not well,
And having little else to do,
Have set me down to write to you.
But yet a shop s no place to wvrite,
For should a payment heave in sight,
The Muse's service I must quit,
Nor lose the cash to show   my Wit.
nMy wit! twhich better had beien shown
If I had left my pen alone
But when the itch of scribbling comes,
It is not trumpets, guni, nor drums
Can make us change our rhymes bor prose;
For tros is vulgar, rhym e divine,
As I am proving  every line."
With this are other rhymes which I like, simply as being
my father's,  and thIerefore place them  here.
The  first portion  of the following, I imagine,  mav be
nmy mother's, as it is mnarked  " C. A., 1784 "; the second
part is marked "S.  E,  I756."' Whlate'er of  ill 1P m destined to endure,
Whate'er of passing pleasure to secure,




143
All perfect Visdom knows what share of pain,
All perfect Goodness does the whole ordain.
May  I ne'er suffer murmuring thoughts to rise,
And, though oppressed, may mercy 1fil my eyes;
3May grateful thoughts, still glowing in my heart,
A powefull aid to charity impart 
That noble virtue may I ever know,
That bond of social happiness below.
"What blest effusion of a iemale mind,
By virtue tutored, and by Heaven refined 
Indulge thy genius, and improve  the age,
And add thy pure thoughts to the moral page;
Then shall the world in Katy's praises join,
While my heart glows with rapture that she's mine."
"'To ty  W!;?.
Katy, I've often heard you tell
Of' the blue viotet's fiagrant smell;
I've tried it oft, but still complain,
My firequent trials are in vain.
"Placed in your bosom for an hour,
I hail its aromatick powers;
Whence I cosnclude the sweets it drew
Were not foml nature, but fronm you."
"', oazghats'i  Sirkness.
"   y God! should illness cloud mr days
Shall it suspend myy songs of praise?
Sickness, that, rightly understood,
May give the fiest, eternal good.
Sickness nayv wisdorns truthls dispense
And draw to God irom flesh and sense;
Danger attends that wretched lot,
In wrhich a future state's forgot.




144
I  envy not their bbasted state, -
The gay, the prosperous, and the great,
Those heedless bings whlo employ
Their every tho ught i n p rent joy.
"The powers of man were never given
TIo shut out every thought of Heaven 
Another world awaits us still,
And judgment follows good or iii'
If vicious here, our fate we know
Comprises every dreaded woe;
If virtuous, every bliss ensues,
Supremely blest who virtue choose.
Come, then, the'most distressing ills,
Come whatsoce'r my Father wills,
Come every grief  in ev'ry ftrm,,
If virtue firmlix meets the storm  "
In i /98 Mr. Eliot was chosen President of the Massachusetts Bank, the first and then, I believe, the only i:tstitution of the kind in New  Encgland.   It was an honorcble
trust, and he held it till i8so4    Dr. Ephraim  Eliot says:
I" hat station was then considered as the highest pinnacle
of honour to which a merchant could attain.  How  diffrent now   "
At this period of the world of little Boston, there were
few  societies  or  clubs.   Even  a volunteer  fire  comrnany
created a strong interest.  It was f:rmed of gentlemen who
agreed to help to extinguish  all fires, and to keep ready for
use a certain  number of painted  leather buckets, canvas
bags, and  bed-keys  for taking  wooden  bedsteads  apart.
Every month  a solemn  committee visited  each med mber's
house  to  examine  these  imrportant implements,  exciting




uch awe is
much awe in toui n minds. A hot supper rewarded their
labors, which Mr. Eliot gave in his turn, and occasionally
attended these given by his firinds.  The Church Committee of which- he was a nmember for a time had the sanme
cheerful recompense of a hot supper every month, and no
doubt tlere were other such gatherings of which there are
no records.  In the Society ftr the Aid of Widows of
Congregational  Clergymen-  fiounded, I presume, at a
much later   te date-he took an active and animated interest, and was always ready to give tinme,   mone, and labor,
though it was under the control of gentlemen of a very
different religious creed from  his own.  iThe great need
of those deserving women would have overcomne sectarni
anism  in him, if it had existedA.  The annual Convention
of Clergymnen, often the occasion of vehement discussions
of creeds and doctrines, was an itnportant day in the family,
-so deep was Mrl Eliot's interest, so many queer, country
clergymen dined with hilm, and th.e debates and personal
encounters were so long subjects of narration and of discussion.   I do not know whethelr he belonged to other
charitable societies, but have no doubt he gave suitable
contributions for their objects.  He was liberal andt generous, but an exaggerated fear of being thought wealtly and
ostentatious made  inhi   sometimes refise,  almost sternly,
applications madce   when other persons were present, which
he afterwards privately supplied.  He particularly disliked
subscriptions, and rarely put his name to one. Dr. Ephraimn
Eliot gives a few anecdotes relating to these matters.
" Mr. Eliot did not wish to be called a generouts  ian;
though i    h ave gavc away annuall   y to a considera ble amount,
he was atwavs  secret about it.  He hated subscriptions.
An instance. One  of his first apprentices, Elisha Sigour19




146
ney, was in a small way of business; his store was entered
at night, and he robbed of three hundred dollars, which
embarrassed him  greatly.  W hen it was probable that it
would never be recovered, I)r. John Eliot (Mr. Sigournev's
minister) received a letter, in which was enclosed three hundred dollars, with a reqtuest that it should be conveyed to
Mr. Sigourney, and not to insinuate or hint fioin whence
it came, if he suspected.  It was privately sent to Mr. S.,
who afterwards told Dr. Eliot (confidentially), that having
known of such charities before, he knew from whence it
came.  Some years after, Dr. E. ascertained that it came
from  Mr. Eliot.  I have been a medium  of conveiyance
myself.  On one occasion he gave me a sealed paper
directed to the' Widow Mv cKean, to be put into the contribution-box at the meeting of the convention of Congregational ministers.  But there happened to be twvo'Widows
McKean,  and when the contribution was assorted,  the
friends of each claimed it, with not a little pertinacitv on
both sides, and it was finally proposed to divide it.  But
on inquiry the sealed paper was traced to me.  It was then
suspected from  whom  the donation  came.  Dr. L owell
ascertained that the fifty dollars was intended for the widow
of Professor Joseph MlcKean, of Cambridge [previously
clergyman at the First Church, Boston], and the whole
amount was given to her.  The other was the widow  of
President Joseph McKean, of Bowdoin College, who lost
nothing by being confounded with the Cambridge lady."
iMy instructor, Dr. Isaac Rand, and his tither were both
rich mlen; they used to say they had never known a n.lan to
raise a fortune by honest  nethods, —that fraud was always
at the bottom.  Since the death of Mr. Eliot, I have endeavored to search his character to the bottom.  He has




147
been called'a proud man'; so he was, and so are most
people that have become rich; -'a mean man'; sometimes
he may have appeared so, as he always made as good bargains as he could with those with whom  lie had dealings.
They may  have thourght he was too close with them,  but I
have never known a fraudulent transaction to be charged
to him in my life, nor that he ever kept a mian oiUt of his
money when it ought to have been paid.  In short, in
viewing his character throughout, I think it has been as
uniformly correct as that of any person I have ever known.
Imperfections I have observed, it is true, but they were
imperfections only."
This is honest and strong testimony, for relatives stood
very near each other in those days, and society was so
small, and business operations were so compact, that action
and character were generally and to one's family minutely
known.  MIr Eliot was much attached to his cousins John
and Ephraim, and trusted thenl confidentially in more mnatters than his charities.  The phrase that no " fraudulent
transaction " had been " charged to him" sounds oddly
cool from so intimate a relative; for, according to my estimnate of his uprightness and impetuosity, any one who had
suggested such a " transaction" for his acceptance would
not have left his presence by any common or slow process;
and, had he known of such faint praise from  a friend, his
mode of answer would have been marked.
Another of Mr. Eliot's private charities is told by one
of his nieces.  "There are other instances of your father's
charities that mnight be imentioned.  His liberating  all the
prisoners in the Leverett Street Jail that were confined -for
debt, by paying the sums due from themi, was one I always




148
admired.  It was as he supposed kept an entire secret at
the time, Mr. Lowell only aknowing from whom  the money
came.  Your mother was led by vour father's silence  on
the subject, when so manyt  others were talking of it and
wondering from  whence the good deed came, to suspect
it was from him, and after his death Mr. Loweel  told her
that it was so."
My last date was i7198  twelve years had passed since
Mrs. Eliot's marriage      years full of active industry, strong
influences, and much development;  brightened by prosperity, by intelligent anld healthby children, and by cordial and
loving friends.  Care and trouble were, of course, m irngled
in their lives,   Mr. Eliot's health was so nearly  perfect
that a common cold or any slight illness was apt to occupy
his attention  and  cause depression, though he bore the
annoyance patiently.  Mrs. 1Eliot had several severe illnesses  and the bringing up of seven children, with tlhe
economy which was the general rule in those dayxs, was a
serious matter.  There is no  need  of enumerating  the
features of such a li.t:; all know  thern.
The great test of character is prosperity; if that elevates
and enlarges instead of contracting the beart, then sorrow
and care will add nourishment and strength.  i think it
was so with both  Mr. and Mrs. Eliot.  TIhroumgh. many
years of radiant prosperity, Mr. Eliot preserved the clear,
calm judgment, the exact uprighitnss and unsulliied honor,'that had grown from  his youth up;  a faithful, uli-nfagging
attention to what he est eenmed a dluty, vwetieher   grett or
small, whether demanding personal sacrifice or resistantce
to persuasion; uniform  industry, a constant desire for im



149
provemerit, a reverent and firm  religious faith, watchful
care of his children and of all whom he emplcyed, a liberal
but modest use of money,  and a dignified disapprobation
of personal luxurv and show.
His temperament was vehement, earnest, excitable; his
feelings were sometimes uncontrolled,   but the reins were
soon recovered.  From  the brightest light we have the
strongest shadow.  Excess of virtue even is dangerous,
and so is the intensity of energy  and self-reliance which
is necessary to carry one througl  sacrifice, anxiety, and
hard work.  The object gained, the qualities which produced success in action cannot be suddenly pruned down
to fit a life of ease.  His love of reading rather increased
with leisure, though it lhad always been so strong, and it
was fed bv boxes of books, ordered annually firom  the
Miessrs. I ongmans.  He had a great value and feeling for
books themselves; to drop a nicei  bound one troublted
him almost as if it had sensation; to skim  through a new
volume, while cutting it, seemed to iim a disrespect to the
author, besides being a bad habit for the reader; and to
borrow a book was so displeasing, as neariv amounted to
a prohibition. TYhere were not many temptations to borrow books in those days.  Few were printed here, those
privately imported were as few, I imagine, and prices at the
bookstores made what was bought too precious to lend.
His children were a great delilht to Mr. Elio t..  D r.
Ephraim speaks of this more than once.  fle frolicked and
played with them,  allowed freedons and sauciness firom the




150
boldest and gayest, that made the shy ones anxious.*  An
expression of intelligent attention,  a proof of knowledge, or
a repartee brightened his eve, and gave him  a pleasure that
he could not wholly conceal, while the personal beauty of
some among them  was a source of no small enjjoyment to
him.  Yet such was hIis fear of exciting vanity and selfesteem  in them, and so strong was his sense of responsibility, that pleasure and approbation were rarely expressed.
()f course this reticence  made praise more valued when it
came, and the young observers were generally aware when
he was pleased or the reverse, without words.  We do not
always measure justly  the quick perception  of our tastes
and peculiarities by the young minds about us, nor their
strong feeling of even unexpressed approbation or disapprobation.
Having suffered so much from  all sorts of restrictions
in childhood and youth, Mr.  Eliot must have yfelt a deep
satisfction, that, through his industry and success, his children need not have any such experience; yet he thought the
dangers of extravagance and idleness so imnminent, where
necessity did not tyrannize, that he threw over thlem a little
of the shadow of his own early troubles.  It was simply a
too stern self-control, as every one realized who knew  his
sensibility and impulsiveness, his iiberality, and htis almost
tearful sympathy  with anything pathetic or noble.
Mr. Eliot's  ideas  upon  education  were  distinct and
firn, -  more strict than Mrs. Eliot wished, but, with such
modifications as she procured, would be constant blessinlgs
iin most houiseholds.  As I grow  oIder I perceive that the
My    delightfuit brotiher Wiliiamn  the leader iin all tlnily  fun  and fiiri'ic, a beauti.it
singer, and his talther's hope and delight, was the most daring in his derlands as a ctiild,
making his fater carryr him on his shoulder, driving hirn by his coat-tails, and exercdsirg
other piayful tyrasn  lic.




I51
leading principles he wished acted upon had wisdom, foresight, and refinement for their foundations. Unquestioning,
instant obedielnce and  silent submission were  necessities.
Truth was claimed, as open and pure as light'  the slightest
deviation fi'om  it, even under palliatirg circumstances, was
punished.  Girls should not go to school to acquire vulgar
tricks  and  companions; and  little  else; nothers  could
teach enough to make useful women  and agreeable companions, if the children were intelligent; if tlhey were not,
home, of course, was their best place.  Boys must rough
it at school, and learn to fit themselves for life by resisting
evil example.   Great care should be taken as to reading.
Neatness and industry, promptness to  serve others, and
cheerful amiability were expected, and their absence noted.
Mr. Eliot could not bear any carelessness in dress or hair,
particularly  on  the  first appearance in  the morning; he
always remarked  if any one sat unoccupied  or lounging;
he did not like to have ladies, young or old, occupy themselves in their chambers' after the first morning hours the
parlor was their place, and  their appearance and occupations should be adapted to it; bundles antd baskets should
not appear in  the  drawin'g-room; little  children  should
not talk befi:re their parents, particularly at meals, unless
addressed, and the answers must be gentle aitd respectful.
It was forbidden  to sit or stand  at the window, and  if
youthfiul curiosity  was too strong, the forgetful one was
soon reminded of the law.  Young ladies should  not go
to public places, rarely to parties, they should  not walk in
the streets merely for exercise,:  and, when necessarily out,
should not allow gentlemen to attend thenm.' Exercise and air were not thought so indispensahle as at presenlt but Mr. Eliot
now and then took his children for a sedate walk in the tnall, and in winter would take
as many as the chariot could hold, to walk on South Boston bridge, then a very quiet and
solitary avenue.




152
It was strictly  required  that all should  be punctual at
morning  prayers at eight o'clock; that all who were  old
enough  should  go  to  church  twice  ont  Sunday, learn  and
repeat a  part of the  catechism   and  a  certain  amoount of
hymnls, and  listen  to  an  additional sernmon,* read by Mr.
Eliot after the afternoon  service.   He  did  not spare him:self.   In  most of these  rules  and  opinions  Mrs. Eliot
coincided entirely, but her svmpath1y and tenderness rmeasuired  better the difficulty  that vehement and restless childs
hood  and  youth  find  in  submitting  to  fixed  and riather
strong  laws.  She now  and  then  contrived  modifications,
and procured small indulgences, without, in the least, relaxing authority.
In  the matter of instruction, she  persuaded  Mr. Eliot
that his  daughters  ought to  know  mnore  than  she  could
teach; and, in  consequence,  two  of them   were  sent for
some  seasons to  a school kept by  a Mr. Curnmings, the
best that had  then  been  known  in  Boston; they had iessons in writing  frot  a Mr. Webb,  and  a little irnstruction
in, drawing from   lan Englishman, a  Mr. Smrith, a very good
teacher.  The boys attendecl  in succession,   the public Latin
School under Mr. Willi am, Biglow.
Of Mr.  Eliot's religious opinio is,   I can only say, tiley
were reverent and  sincere,  simrple and  liberal'. he strong
influence of such  mien as Dr. Andrew Eliot and DIr. Si;meaon
loward, both  of whom  lie trulv  revered,  was exerted  to
form  a devout and upright life, candor,  and chlariti.  T  ey
r' The Sunday was generally  a strainipn osell~-con'7mand  tle tbrird serao w.as, a titt:led
hard upon the patience of the -ount onesn but the gard,:en and nursery were saf:tyoave;:vvse
and the closing of thie ieading was a sort of jubilee tfi)r t3en the nmoitir gatb:rer d the littl
ones about hler and ted themn with somie dainty, itesh frul: in sumntere deltcitos pret'rves
in wNinter-" "the biscuit or confectionery plum," -- and fiolic and laughter vwete ict  oTly
pelrmitted, but encouraged,




153
rejected  the stern  Calvinism  of their predecessors, and
M4r. Eliot's whole nature revolted from  that system, and
firom  everything that looked like spiritual intolerance or
domination.  He followed the religious controversies that
so stirred the hearts of the people, when strife for political
freedom was partially allayed, with a deep and not a silent
interest; indeed, in later days, when Dr. Jedediah M4orse
appeared to desire to extinguish poor little Miss Hannah
Adams, he expressed his indignation with such force that
to young imaginations Dr. Morse  seemed dreadful  as
Apollyon.  Mr. Eliot was a regular attendant at church
twice a day, and through all seasons and whatever the
weather, even in the worst, always walked.  He never
sat during the service, and during the sermon leaned over
the door of the pew in undivided attention, a slight motion of his head now and then expressing approval; while
it must be confessed that the same frankness led him  to
stand with his back to the pulpit, when the teachings were
not so much to his mind.  As this occurred only when
strangers preached, we trusted they did not recognize the
contrast.  When the stranger pleased and satisfied, he was
generally invited to dinner.
He did not approve of evening lectures, and often rallied
Mrs. Eliot upon her enjoyment of the Thursday morninicg
lecture, maintaining that ladies ought to have too much to
do at home at that time of day, to be able to indulge in
such a pleasure.
Mr. Eliot rarely talked of religion, but when called upon
to give up hopes and desires which were like a portion of
his existence, his submission, even through great agony,
proved the strength of his religious faith.




154
Dr. Belknap's sudden death, in 1798, was a great shock
and sorrow to Mr. and Mrs. Eliot.  In the ten years of
his residence in Boston, Mrs. Eliot had become much
attached to him; his cheerful, amiable temper and active,
cultivated mind made him  an attractive companion and
valuable friend, and she, after his death, proved a most
faithful and soothing sister to his suffering widow.
In those days, when fortunes were moderate, and each
household was occupied with daily cares and real work,
leisure did not promote frequent meetings or many intimacies.  Dr. Ephraim says: " Mr. Eliot did not approve
of indiscriminate visiting; people were not to happen in;
when he desired friends about him he would invite them;
and this continued his preference till his last years, when
loss of sight so oppressed him  that a volunteer call was a
refreshment to him."  iHe had no taste for long visits from
friends, yet he welcomed Mrs. Eliot's relatives from Newbury with cordial hospitality every season, and proved, by
receiving kindly some who had no family claiem, that he
knew how to make exceptions to his general rule.
Annual visits to Newbury were a refreshment and delight
to the mother, and to those of the children who were permitted
to go with her. The journey, almost always made with the
pet bay horses, was a serious afftir of two days, Topsfield
being the dreary resting-place for the night.  But discomfort only added to the zest of the excursion, and the charms
of the home in Newbury would have been potent against a
much harder test.  We were going to a devoted fairy
grandmother, who would give freedom, health, sympathy,
and approbation.  The feeble were sent to her for strength,
the naughty for reformation; and so charming were her
modes of restoration from even moral diseases, that one




155
young offender, knowing that the last resort in her case was
her being sent to her grandmother, inwardly resolved to
postpone all signs of reformation till she was with her.
While working in the broad garden, under a kind and sympathizing eye, health and goodness were breathed in together.  We were never praised by words, but we felt the
pleasure we gave by successful efforts, or even by the mere
effort.  It was a tonic, happy life, and we came back to
quiet home duties, with new powers and resolves. I give
a letter written during one of these happy visits: —
T''o Miss Mary H. Eliot (from her Father).
"C BOSTON, September 3, I8oo.
"DEAR  MARY, -  I received with much satisfaction
your clever little letter by post, and was much pleased to
hear your grandmother was well, and should have been glad
to have had the same good account of your aunt Becky,
whose situation gives me real concern.
"i You found less difficulty, I dare say, in writing your
letter than you expected you should when I enjoined writing upon you.  Thus you will find it through life; when
we look at a duty to be performed at some future time,
especially if it is one which we have not practised, we are
apt to magnify the burden and lessen our capacity of performance; but remember, my dear child, that a strong
respect for duty, with a resolute and tolerably well-informed mind, will find difficulties vanish before them, and
what appeared in contenmplation almost impossible to be
effected will be comparatively easy in execution.  Patience,
fortitude, and perseverance will carry us through any opposition in the path of virtue. A willing mind, that sets




156
itself in earnest to do its best, will soon observe every
impediment lessening, and what at first might be perhaps
disagreeable will, in a short time,  be greatly pleasing.  A
resolution to do our duty is nearly half the performance
of it.
(It seems you are anxious about my hair.  I am much
obliged indeed by your attention; but do not flatter yourself, little madam, that you have left no one here that can
give it a decent appearance.  What think you of Fannvy?
and what do you say of your mother?  I will say nothing
of their merits on this heazE, but leave it to  your own
determination.
" I am rejoiced to find you are determined to be useful,
for it is as wise and virtuouls a resolution as you could any
way form.  Be assured that a healthy, strong, idle girl is a
nuisance in society,  and the contempt of all good people.
"Charles, William, and Sam  are good boys, behaving
very well, and desire their love to you and Eliza.  By the
hy, Miss Harrison,  where were your recollections when
you wrote, that you omitted all notice of Eliza?  I hope
your memory will serve you better when you write me next.
Give my regards to her, your grandmother, and Aunt Becky.
"Be a good girl, if you value my good opinion  and
affection, for I cannot —nay, I ought not -to love bad
girls, such as you will never prove, I trust.
"c Your affectionate Father,
" S. ELIOT.
"6 Little Cate is well, and desires her love to you bothi,
to her grandmother, Aunt Becky, cousins, &c., &.  4Tell
your aunt Searle that we have some woollen goods just
arrived, if she wants an-y [for hIir shop].  I have sent a




'57
box of peaches to your grandmother, which, I hope, will
come in good order, and be pleasing to her.  Fanny is at
Mr. B3arrellts."
I hlave as yet said little of the oldest daughter of the
house, ianny, who, born in 1776, was, at the date of this
letter, twenty-four years old.  Her nature and character
were so marked, and so different fromt Mrs. Eliot's habits
of mind and judgment, that she was never a neutral element.  She could be a pleasure, she was oftener a perplexitv.  VWhile her own mother lived, Fanny's health and
pleasure were objects to which most other things yielded,
-a system  which produced its natural results, aggravated
in this case by a peculiar delicacy of organization, and the
mingling of caprice, quick  wit, and  sharp  observation.
Seven years of these influences left their permanent effect;
during the three next she was almost wholly  under the
care of servants, and, when Mrs. Eliot took charge of
her, little Fanny knew  better how to rule others than to
govern herself, and knew very little else.  She was sm-all,
pretty, and active, -  a something   between a Fenella and an
Undine; she disliked occupation, soon wearied of play,
enjoyed mischief. What should be the wisest treatment
for a child of such peculiarities, must have been an anxious
study for the new mamma.  For many years she made the
most faithful and the most various efforts to attract Fa nny's
affection, to conquer her restlessness, and to cultivate habits
of induistr  and self-control.  Some proress   s w   ade,  for
Fannyr  had fi eoing  antd talentl;  but taste and capacity were
developed in different directions froml   those approved by
the Atkins school.  A little playing on a primiitive piano,




15s
a little singing, a faculty for fancy work and for dress,
with ability for more useful occupation, exhibited under
special stimulus, finally produced a young lady rather
fascinating when in good spirits, but not a very useful
or reliable member of a family.
Fanny visited the kind grandmother occasionally, and all
other good influences were sought for her improvement and
happiness; and, in i789, when she was thirteen, she was
put under the care of Mrs. Higginson and her daughter
Hetty, living in Salem.   They were true gentlewomen,
with much of the stately courtesy and manner of the period,
and believing in their inheritance of worth and dignity
from  their ancestor, the venerated Mr. John Higginson.
To enlarge a very limited income they taught voung children, and Miss Higginson lived long enough to educate
successive generations in Salem, and to receive from  each
constant expressions of grateful respect. They were truly
faithful in their care of Fanny, and were valued and held
in true respect by Mr. and IMrs. Eliot.'The letters from  Mrs. Eliot to Fanny, written at this
time, are so expressive of both characters, that I give a
few of them: -
T"O Miss Frances Eliot.
"NEVsuRY, June 28, 1789.
" DEAR FANNY, -- You will be pleased to receive this,
as it will inform, you that your papa is so good as to cotnsent to your tarrying till Mr. Searle >comes for your aunt
Becky  [M iss Atkins.....       You desire me to write a
few lines, just to tell you how everybody does; but it appears to me that alone would make more than a few. How



'59
ever, we are all, in the family and at your aunt Andrews,
much as you left us.
"Now for a few inquiries, which I wish you to make into
your conduct.  Do you rise early?  Do you go to bed
early, and without waiting to be bid?  Do you try to be
useful without being troublesome? Do you avoid asking
questions, and all sorts of impertinence?  Do you keep
your chamber and trunk in good order, or is your slip on
one chair, your cloak on another, and the table covered
with combs and papers?  Do you keep to a simple diet,
or has your appetite betrayed you   These are matters
you must take care of yourself, as I am not by you, and it
is asking too much attention of the friends you are with
to do it for you; therefore,'tis you alone that will be to
blame, and you will be the sufferer, if any bad habits are
contracted. I shall not be able to procure another visit for
you, if this does not do you good rather than harm.
"'Your papa was pleased with your writing; let this
encourage you to try more and more to excel.  I can write
no more than just desire mny duty to my mother, and nly
love to my sister, and remain,
"Your affectionate Mother,
"C. ELIOT."
" Tl0 the Same.
1" BosToN, July 12, 1789.
"I am very glad that your visit has been not only agreeable, but long enough, and that you are wishing to come
home.  It would have been, I think, a little strange, had
three weeks passed and no desire of seeing home arisen in
the time...




I60
"'When the cloth was taken from  the table to-day
your little sister [Mary, a little more than a year old]
took her seat upon it, and as we talked of your coming
home, she looked very earnestly at the door, to see you as
you entered, full of expectation.  She will be pleased at
your return, I dare say.
"7O Miss FaOy, Eliot.
"SALEM. [No date.]
MY DEAR FANNY, --  I have taken the earliest opportunity I could find to write to you. We are all well.
"I hotpe soon to send you some work; for your time
must be a burden, I fear, or at least you wish  in
earnest,   I hope, to employ yourselif.... I have sent
some cotton with the needles, or you to learn to knit
with.
I do very much rejoice in your situation, I think it
highly calculated to improve you.  You must write nme the
course of your employments, your method of learning,
and all the little matters that turn up in your way, that I
may be able to form  a more complete judgment of your
feelings and improvements.  I shall write you as often as
I can.  The greatest inducement I can have for frequent
writing is your present and future happiness, which I have
nmuch at heart.  Youir letters will tell me all you wish nme
to know, and I hope that you will be so careful of xyour
dispositions and - manners that no one will have  it in
their power to tell me anything that you will wish  concealed.
"I am  too much engaged to write more now, tlherefore must conclude with repeating what you know  I am




I61
exceedingly  anxious about.  Pray be careful; tzhik, that
you mray nrt wel!,  that you  nay  n ake your friends
happy, and believe mre, rnot one of all the numtber will rejoice in your welfare nrmore tthan
Your a ffectionate Mother,
~ C. ELIOT."' BOSTO)N, December 30, 1789.
" MY  DEAR  FANNy,-To  those who seek rmost the
improvement of the heart, such seasons as the present
are generalvy used in serious recollections of the various
occurrences of the past year, that no mercy or correction
may  pass unnoticed, but each, withl  due reflection, be
marked for future governnment.  May you, my dear, collect your best abilities, and, with  careful industry  and
firminess, pursue some line of thought that will lead you to
a knowledge of yourself, your true character.   Let not
the partiality of friends, or the rmore influential flatteries
of self-love,  disguise from  strict examination those whisperings of your mind which are the admonitions of your
Heavenly Father.  Think for one moment on this single
idea, and it will give such motives for attention to the stili
voice of conscience,  as can hardly be resisted by a mind
unadulterated by vice.
"To a mind of genuine sensibility the entrance urpon a
new  year gives rise to many ardent wishes.  Hopes of
ftture good will employ many of the retired moments of
the young and happy.  Let yours be used to fix in the best
manner you are able firm  resolutions to be ogo0d.  For this
purpose, if you recollect and attend to those things you
have heard and read, which you feel have had the best
influence upon your thoughts and conduct, they may serve
ZI




162
you again.  Many more are still in reserve for you.  Bend
your wishes with ardour to grow in virtue) and you will
find assistance ever ready.  I think to keep a small memorandum-book in your pocket, in which you mayne write anvy
short sentence that strikes your mind as useful, will help
you....  As you have no book that I think so convenient as mine for this purpose, I will lend it to you till its
place can be supplied with one of your own.
" As a proof of my hopes that your new resolutions will
be firm on the side of virtue, I send you the needle-book
you have been so solicitous to deserve.  May it prove a
stimulus to something worthy each time you see it...
"You will not fail to let me know when your pocketmoney and work are nearly out, as I shall be ready to
supply you with both.
(You will be pleased to hear that Mary is so very fondly
attached to you that if she hears your name, or thinks of
you without, it is with difficulty we pacify her, she is so
very anxious to have you appear at the moment.
The hair in the book you will know to be hers, and that I
should not have sent it, but that vou have so often desired
it.  Adieu; be good, that you  itay be happy, and lovely
to all, but particularly to
"Your affectionate Mother,
C. ELIOT."
"February 14, I79o.
"MY DEAR FANNY,.... The little book  you enclosed
for your papa's inspection I saw, and was pleased with the
method of arrangement and the economny; but Awhy, in all
the time you have been absent, you have never met with
one person to whom you wished to give sixpene or more,




t63
I cannot conceive, or, if you have, why you have denied
yourself the pleasure.  Surely, you could not so fO r mistake mi  advice as to think I meant, Iy economy, to debar
you the satisfaction of giving a part of the little you have
to a deserving person you might help or please.  It was
not in all my thoughts, and I am  sure your father will be
happy to supply you with money for such purposes."
February z7, 179o.
".... **Be careful to observe what you read, and when
you want employ ment make such little extracts as strike
your mind as useful.  This method may store your mind
with good sentiments.  But the best and most useful
knowledge is gained by observations upon real life; the
sight of one object of distress will have more lasting effect
upon a feeling mind than reading many imaginary descriptions of the deepest sorrow.... Your heart, my child,
is the object of my most solicitous attention.'T is there
you must fix your foundations for present as well as
future happiness.  If that is good and rightly tempered,
you will be safe, and your friends will all be happy in you.
"Have you repeated lately the fine poetry you learnt
fiom the Lyric Poems?
" Shall I tell you that I was as much, if not more, pleased
with the present you sent Mary last, than with any piece of
work I have ever seen of yours?  It is a proof of attention, neatness, and industry, three very important articles
in the list of good qualities, of which you will make yourself mistress if you are what I wish you..
I will not multiply even such attractive proofs of strong
sense and faithful care of a step-daughter.  In 1792 Fanny




64
was again  at home, a bright, animated  girl of sixteen, quite
accessible  to  the  flatteries  of her own  imother's  relatives.
She  respected  my  mother,  she  loved   the  children  while
they were pretty and not troublesome,  was at times ready
to make much effiort fbr themi, but otlen preferred their
absence.  When happy, she was very anmusing.  She }lad
taent,  but no  steadciy application.   As years passed on, she
went into a good   deal of comnpanv,  had her intilate fi iendships and  flirtations, passed  a  day  freque ntly  with her aunt
and  cousins,   the  two   Mrs. Joys, walked  and  drove  with
the  young  Messrs.           Barrell, also  cousin.s, and  at one  time
chose  to  consider  herself engaged  to  one of themi.   To  a
temperament  like  hers  the  discipline  of  life,   under  such
principles  as governed  our homen, nust have  been  severe.
She  was  like  a   bird   in  a  cage t that sometimes  sings  Iibut
oftener  beats  against the  bars.'
Thus  affairs  went  on.'While  tlhe other child-ren  deveIoped  into young men and women, she felt herself passing
from youth and freshness;  and when, in I8o6, Mr. Joseph
Bray, an  English   gentleman, was  introduced  to   her,  she
was  xwilling  to  receive  his  admiration,  and  to  consent  to
marry  him.    Ihey  establishled  themiselv es in  a  house  jjust
built  by  Mr.  Eliot,  at  the  head  of what is now   Philips
Place,   aid continued  to  live there  till I8o,  when sle dCied,
two  years  after  the  death  of hler husband.   Faithfitull    did
Mlrs  Eliot continue  the  care   ald   watchfullness  shie  began' I h1ave not said e'noughl of IFanlny's f'ascinations and 7firrts to pleaset,   n Cpersn, she
was pret7ty7, petite, espiL/,l  had a falclty f.1-r dr-ess a  t1and its right e7i.ct,'7    e 2iwas'fid 
inailng pres7en7s) and g:tther1 d 7 niceties in her chambe1r ftor7g7v7   children i1 bw no7ne were admitted  7'thout invitat7ion anid tere  waS' perhaps  a s/W,!:x'. f  o~ fivoritism.   At o,,e tbile
sh'e underrtook 1to 7mle a7ll t7te chthets flor tie.,ur)'st, It t'he'ittle on.e 5oi a;t,-(w
her Tpers:everan'e. She l:ad good por0 S andSl soi me oi: c'' i:atIs may ptu: sI be tcaihC,    an
inheritance, Thre engageiment men-tioned above vN~ s quite frf}biddenl iby ter b:y;ttf,. —^ anl
oppositiorn ttlat pro.duaced vehealentl excimntlet  Wblen the votung mlan diedl  not long
after, Fanny wore rnourning   a long tim1e,




I65
on the day of her own marriage to the last hour of what
became a suffering existence.  Fanny was always a strong
element in the fnamily life; and care and consideration for
her, which were always made duties, entered into the developmtent of the characters of the household.
I have now come to the year   8o6, when, having reached
the observing  age of five years, I may pretend to have
personal recollections.  My fi ther was then sixtv-six, full of
health and activity  of body and mind, attending to busi-m
ness, driving  his horses, enjoying his friends at dinner,
sometimes reading aloud in the evening.  uHis life was so
methodical and regular, that the sketch of one day would
picture all the olhers, varied only by the change of season.
He was called by one of the children at seven in summer,
at eight in  winter, and  rose immediately.  We were all
expected to be ready for his summons, as soon as he canae
down, whe n he read a chapter in the Bible, and made a
short and solemn prayer; a simple breakfast followed, but
to this meal he never sat down; a pint bowl of milk, set
aside for himn the day beoire, with a rich creamr therefore on
its surfice, and two or three pieces of thin toast, were all he
took, and  they were taken at intervals.   In  summer he
would go into the garden, and consider its condition, or
gather a flowei   between hiis draughts;  in winter, exarmination of the hyacinths in their glasses, a visit to the bookroom, or to a   wood-pile admired f4br its exactness, filled the
momen t   So nltilleS ti)eotre this ligct mea l Nvas fiinished  he
was told   " Mr' Ar.    ountain has co  e.":    Nirg  Mo u ntain. 
Itt was MI T. Elioitts fancv to  lave thie;lngtst  child sit Si Upon ts kee d"uring the   raocess
of: fiizziln  and powderint,     repeating  to her stories i:iad poetryl arid clainming   somnlet:ing firol
tthe youtihl nmeUiory, MountaiU wvas a Frenchian, and, i havi hneard died in anl atlntshituse




i66
was a barber, according to the most familiar and accepted
definition; his profession was visible in his person. Agile,
courteous, plausible, and flattering, he could adapt himself
to all varieties of character, and temnper;   very neat, and
well-mannered, always supplied with the latest news, anecdotes, and gossip, but content with silence, if that was the
humor of the morning.  Amiable to children, his coming
was welcomed by the young ones.
At nine o'clock, Mr. Eliot went to the market, followed
by the nman-servant, and then to the counting-room, wvhere,
unless tempted to a drive or ws alk, he remained till two, the
dinner-hour being half past two.   After dinner he went to
his " book-room " for an hour, in summer, and then followed a drive, or a lounging hour in the garden, or a visit to
Mrs. Bray or to a neighhbor.  In winter the short afternoon was filled byv a walk, and the twilight by a roimp with
the boys, -  Williain, a prince of revellers, nine years old, and
Sam, between six and seven, riding on his shoulders, driving
him by his coat-tails, and with various other antics keeping
him  in full activity, and the spectators in infinite amusement.  At the dark mahogany tea-table, lighted by two tall
silver lamps, and brightened by the tea-kettle and various
other silver articles_, Mr. Eliot did sit down; but the refreshment he took was as light as at his other meals, his delicate china cup holding not more than a wine-glass, and the
toast being of the' thinnest. After this he lighted his Argand lamp, -a new and luxurious invention, kept in order
by a dauughter, being too precious to be ever trusted to a servant, -— and whe  not inclinled to read alo:ud, thle houitrs till
n ionCOC           a     e       i clo were passeda in t e b oorool, With books     ew
and old.  At nine o'clock  he found the same square table
spread with a supper of cold  me ats, lobster, or a Welsh



I67
rabbit, accordingy to the season, or some little nicety from
Miss Hannah's skill.  This meal he enjoyed more than
the others, and after his glass of old Madeira or Port, when
his con-panions gradually left him, he sat with his book,
till half past eleven or twelve, when Miss Hannah appeared to report the house closed, to  receive directions,
and make report of previous orders.
Such was the simple, cheerful life of these years, varied,
of course, by care, regret, and pleasures.  Dinner-parties
were  less  frequent  then heretofore;  but the  Thursday
clerical dinner,  with the long talk and  inspiring  cigar,:'
were still enjoyed,  and visits exchanged with the Eliot,
the Andrews,  the Hubbard, Allen, and  Cutler families,
gave variety and animation.
In I8og, the fitmily group consisted of Fanny (twentynine), Mary (seventeen), Eiliza (fifteen), Charles (fourteen,
just entered at Harvard), and four vounger children, the
whole group combining much variety  of character and attraction, and  much  for discipline and  help.   In   So6,
Fanny's marriage to Mr. Bray caused a few changes, and,
by giving her a kind and judicious protector, relieved her
father of some of his anxieties.
Charles's absence and exposure at such a boyish age, with
an excitable and vehement nature, to the perils of a college
life, created new cares and fears, mingled with satisfaction
at proofs of studv and good conduct.  The Saturday return home and frequent drives to visit hint  were animating
interests.  Mr. Eliot often walked to see Iis son, when
7 Mr. Eliot never used tobacco, except: a rare pinch of snu;, but he was fond of the
odor of cigars, and kept them fbr his friends.




i68
weather and roads were favorable, for in those days the
only regular communication between  Boston and  Cainbridge wNas by a small coach, wNhic l made twio tr.ps a day.
Everything went well with Charles, till one unlucky night,
in January, iSo9, xwhen he was found with others in a ciassnmate's room  enjoying  a supper of broiled chickens.    A
solemn example was made of these young people, by the
sentence of'" Suspension till Commencement."
In these days of indiiffrence to collegiate, and to nearly
all other punishments, there can be little conception of the
dismay that fell upon the quiet household in Trermont
Street.   Mr. Eliot's displeasure and  mortification  were
great, and so strongly expressed, that young listeners feared
their brother would never recover friom the disgrace.
Hampton  Ialls was the place designated for his banishment, and there, in the Rev. Mlr. Abbott, he found so wise
and kind a friend, and so good a teacher, that his aeart and
mind were rapidly developed, and a  warni mutual attachment was formed which continued through the short liif of
the young studen t.  M r. ELliot's life was for a time sade
dened by this disappointment and by the recent frequent
loss of near friends.
In July, i8o8, Mr. and Mrs. Eliot's intimate friend and
near neighbor, Mrs. Hubbard, diedl; in November fbllowing, Mrs. Tvng, the wii: of Mrs. Eliot's onl  brother, was
taken; and in January, 1 8o9, came the death of Mrs. Belknap, Mr. Eliot's last sister; -a heavy series of losses in so
few nmonths.  Mrs. Eliot was the tender friend of each, and
was with them  through their days of suffering, anid iit the
solemn  parting  hours, comforting  and  sustaining  their
hearts.   It might have been that the pressure of so nivuch
real sorrow would have lightened the Cambridge tr:ouble;




169
but I suppose in a degree it aggravated it.  Again, in February, a heavy loss  A!l upon  Mr. Eliot, in  the  sudden
death  of Sxl-ri:f Ar leCrax  an  intimiate) next-door friend,  for
his prett y glrounds, e(ci'osilg the ancient  stone house, adjoined upon ourl garden, fillincg t3e space  between  that and
Someirse t Street. Aitnost cdaiil  intercourse was kept up 
for, besides the friendliness between the gentlemen, Miss
Pattv  Allen  the Sheriff s niece,  and  the presiding  infiu-u
ence in his es talishelnt,  waS a great ivworite with old and
young.  Her unlcominion beauty and grace of mnanner were
made more wnliing  by great amiability and  good sense.
How  well I remelber tlie genia, jolly old Sheriff  in his
blue frock coat reaching to his fiet, witih a red  collar and
brass buttols, and  his three-ornered  hat!
In a letter to Charles, his fatller said: " The death of
the Sheriff is a very heavxt  blow  to me; I feel his loss very
sensibly,  and shal  trougl li, as I shall  hall never look  upon
his like again.   Since the  first of  Novemnber a constant
succession  of sickness  and  death  has  occurred  in  the
circle of my acquaintanc e.   I remenlber not so solemn,
a period"
After receiving  his  degree  at Commenceniene,              809,
Charles decided to study theology, and for that purpose established himself in Camnbridge in November.  The imonths
of seclusiotn, with such influences as were gathered under
Mr. Abbott's roof, had produced a great change in him x.
Boyishness had disappeared under the power of the collegiate punishment and the grief it had occasioned.   and
the generous and thoughtful eleimelts of his character, his
- This charmnilg vision of my youth married the son of oterlior Calteb St-rong, of
Northamp)ton (Gore nor t of nMassachusetts  seven s years, f.romn tsoo} and disappeared fronm
amongst us, th)tgri livisng for some yoeas in Boston. Such were the taste and character of
M[r. Strong that she was quie separated om those she loved.
22




170
affections, and religious feelings and principles were gradually developed and strengthened1.  He was fortunate in
the circumstances of his second. establishment in Car —
bridge; for, having a roomn adjoining one occupied by Mr.
F risbie, he found himself soon admitted to a circle embracinlg so nluch intellect, learning, elegant culture, and
genial intercourse, as nmust have kindled in any nature some
answering qualities.  Charles (then nearly nineteen) had aspirations and  impulses that were worthy of such influences, and his affection and reverence for Mr. Frisbie and
Mr. Norton became deep and stimnulating.  M1r.  Samuel
Thacher, Mr. Buckminster, Mr. Farrar, and other intimate friends, formed a circle with  powers and attractions
rarely found within so narrow  limits.  Mr. Frisbie, with
his native, gentle thoughtfulness, welcomned  my brother
with kindness, and, as he suffered constantly froom  trouble
in his eyes, Charles soon became his daily  companion and
reader.  No wonder that his father wrote thus to him  soon
after he was settied in Cainbridge: -
" I trust in God that you are now placed in the highest
and most capable situation to give xou every information
necessary  to  the accomplished  scholar, and  particularly
fitted to classical acquirement.
"Mr. Buckminster's Phi Beta KaIpa oration gives my
sentiments completely  on this subject.  If you attemnpt
being  a scholar,  be a thorough one or quit the purs uit;
and let me assure you that I have a confidence that youL are
taking the steps I wish  you to follow, that you are  a
student, a hard student, for labour is necessary to success.
"It is my ardent wish that you mray proceed  in  i)L:
paths that will best conduce to the establishmentl of your
character as a gentlemian, a man of honour, the moralist,




171
and the Christian; the last is the apex, and contains, indeed, every epithet that precedes it."
In the preceding May,  Mr. Eliot had written a long letter to Charles, giving  his jud.ment of the different profes —
sions, desiring to aid and guide, but not (lirect his decision.
Of the law he says:  "The profession of the Law I h4ave
almost deprecated f-or a son of mine, as one that throws
wide open the door of temptationI to practices of the most
nefrious kind; and in the present day, when every young
man almnost is becoming a lawyer, in addition to the innumerable host that crowd our courts, I see not the prospect
of obtaining, by honourable procedure,   a com fortable sub —
sistence."   Of a physician's lifi  he draws a most repulsive
picture, but concludes,   After all, Physick is better, far
better, than Law, unpalatable as it is."  EHis sketch of the
clerical profession is strong and earnest, expressingc plainly
his known preference for it, but imagining he conceals it.
" Physick is better than Law; how  infinitely better than
physical are theological pursuits, adopted  on  principle,
and pursued with vigour."
After a passage describing his high estimation of comnierce, he ends his letter as follows:
"    have thus,  dear Charles, in  broken  and  hurried
periods, laid before you all I can hastily collect; you must
look fior guidance to your Father in heaven on this allmomentous topick.  Far am  I friom  a desire of prescribing to  you; I wish  I had  more ability  to  assist your
resolves by  rightly  directing your views.   I comnmend
ou  o the gace and blessing of' Almighty  God, being
our anxious and affectionate 1Father,
"S. ELIOT."




1 7
Another heavy burden -upon Mr. Eliot's hea:rt, in this
trying year, a as the approaching separation fiotn his second
daughter, by her t arrialge.  Beautiful,  in telligeit, filul  of
brigtht enthusiasm   and  animnated i.tk.rst, she gave  himn
great happiness; and he depeuded upon her nore than he
knew, much more than lhe would ctonfss.  He had nlaturlatNy
hopei, when she m arried, to have her established near hinti
and to have a hundred rough miles placed betwe-en thetu
seemed too hlard. Se Shwas so yoilng, too,-onlv twentv-one,
-so ignorant of the world, so unaccustiomed to care.  Shetered as she had been during all her gentle, un evntful life,
how could she sustain the known and i  ultipied  cares in-evitable in so small a country town, as Springfield wias tIhen 
It was hard to those who knew the diiffcultics to thiki of
these things, but to her, love, hope, and youth covered
them  with. a golden cloud, wxiich hung over reality some
little time.  The i9th of April, iog9, Mary inarried Mr.
Edmund Dwight, of Springfield, and, taking her next sister,
Eliza, with her, departed for her new hotne. The din:inished circle closing behiind her felt clearly how much brigiltness, sympathy, and support had grone f om, it.  To the
strong feelings and anxious temperamrent of hIer i.her, it
was deeplyv trying, and I thin k that after this y ear (f - ree
peated separations, his spirits were  never quite so brigit.
The condition of Europe oppressed his thourghts;  lie followed the course of affairs in France, the increase of Napoleon's power, and the state of parties in tEnglad with
anxious eagerness; felt sure that neothing could resist the
Corsican, -that when lhe hadI sltitued E          1ro, tlc  A-p t Aeica
would succumb  asiialy; and he wo0:1t' say to iMris. Eitot,
"Make up vour mitd to ityo          u  ril o      dont o  a}nc tav' 1 a
I'Frnchl gendrme sitting bv your tfire, watcxv iisg yourn daincugai




173
ters, and insulting everybody."  In some things his viviid
imagination  wras his greatest enemy.
In  October,  i81o, our much-loved  and  sincerely respected  grrandrllother,  Mrs. Atkins,  died,, a    loss  fett
widely, and, in our circle, very deeply.  To have so much
religious wisdom, such- a constant teaching of fithfulness,
patient cheerfiulness, and gentle courtesy taken from us, —
to lose such animated affc-tion,  such  unfailing syNmpathy
for all ages and all conditions, was a trial, even for the
youngest.  Her age was great, and  the  last years had.
brought suffring from  gout, and a degree of heiplessness 
but a clear mind, deep affuctions, and cheerful resiglation
sustained her through lifS to her last momt nts.  It was
said of her by one who knew  her well, "'  he excellence
which others attain to in the theory of virtue and religion
she made the fimiliar practice of her life  the knowledge
for which some depend on books seemed in her the result
of a superior mind, exercised on its own reflections and
observations; or ratlher she possessed the admirable talent
of so blending it with the dictates of her own judgment
and experience as to give it the impress of wisdomn."   1
find a letter from my father to my sister Mar:A,  announcing
this ending of a Christian ifie.
"7`o M/rs. Ya   IL O   Dwigt, ptrim/'e.
"BoSTON, October I7,  8 to.
"DEAR  MAR Y, —...        At hialf an hoiur past seven
ocloc'k last venvii yvour t mrandlmotiocr breathed her h last,  iln
the most tr:ianquil and quiet tanner,  witlout a groan or
sigl.  Ttus hias she ended a long lit-, and 1eft us to pray
to God that our last end l may be like hersi  at te sallte




T174
time remembering  (and  deeply may the  all-importa nt truth
be  impressed  on  our  hearts) that we  may  not expect that
our lot  and  portion  shall be with  the  righteous  unless our
lives are conformed  to  theirs, and  to  the  infinitely               v greater
exampl e of the Author and  Finishe    of our faU th ii..
" Such a friend  as  vour grandmother  should  survive  in
our memories  as a monitor,  to  guide  and  govern  our conduct, and  regulate  all our  actions.   The  example  of  the
virtuous  and  the  good  should   have,  and,  if propcrly    atVtended  to, will have, a great efict.   Your grandmother xwas
f:urnished  by  nature, or  rather by  the God  of niature, with
a  mind  and  ability   of considerable  strength.   She  was a
lady  of appearance and   nannier that excited  attention,   and
commlanoded  respect;  she was amiable, social, prudent,   wise,
honourable, virtuous, benevolent,  hiunlble,  and  religious.
If this  is  true, and  true  it is, shaltl we  deeplv  nourn  her
departure?  when, more  especially,'t is  said),    Blessed  are
the  dead  who  die  in  the  Iord';    and  further  still, when
she  had  been  so  long continued, and  her ftculties  remauined
little impaired  to  the last?   How  much better than to have
her live a burthen  to  herself and a grief to  her dearest conneetions 
"Mr. Carv:y told  her,  when  he  came  to  see  1her [in her
last hours], that he came  to  congxratulate her;  and well he
* The Rev. Samuel Cary, of the Stone Chapel, Boston, son of Dr. Cary, of Newhbury.
Mrs. Atkins was much attached to this excellent yolng man, who had bee5n mIr  in her
familt,  and xwas treated bhy her as if lie wvere onle of helr owIt   O! the oi ccaionn reteysred ta he said to MIrs. Atins with aniation,    t LanTdm t]tr, I -i.ave co(iel to rifeOiCe
NVith I  vou!   S:heo answered i,  I have fi xsli::ed mny ci>uire t I l.)ve,pt t.h e.:ait  -L t nr $    e
fIoth there is laid up for     on:.ir}.    i oi 1oe:    e s s   a i  (iG ), tr e }gtcous j s  C-1
shall givye  in  tihat day."    G Granidmotither, you are going to be very Iha ppi., bee  you
swil meet )r. Bass, niy tither, acil all vour friieds."  She laid her Ih lnd l  upon his aiead,
and sald, i   God bless you! you are a dear bo"   He knelt  by her and prayed most
devoutly and tenderlvx




175
might.  He asked leave to pray with her, -- more, 1 am
told, a prayer of thanksgiving than of supplication.
"And now, my dear child, what should be the conclusion.
of this matter?  I say unto you, and say solemnly,' CGo
thou and do likewise'; and recollect the increased fiult, nay,
crime, if, with so near and dear an example before you, you
fall short of her virtues.
".... * I have written this undcr circurmstances very
unpropitious to writing, with a troubled  and distracted
mind, and with the children around me.  I saw Mr. Cutter
before I quiitted Newbury at ten this morning.  He will
do what little is to be done; every arrangenment is committed to his care, —the funeral proposed for Friday or
Saturday.  Your uncle Tyng is at PTlymouth, expected
home to-morrow.  How is Mr. Dwight? how is the child?
and how are vou?
"Your affectionate Father,
" S. ELIOT.'lv Mlrs. Dv)zig/).t
BOSTON, I6 September, i8i z.;".... * Knowing as I do the perpetual and never-to-be
satisfied expectations of some of your fiiends, of an uninterrupted, unintermitted course and intercourse, of ch'ange
and interchange of letters, -  letters upon letters, -  now  a
page or two, and now two or three sheets, -why, I really
begin to pity you, and am  by aumane feelings almost led
to think that my expectation of hearing from you, and
being indulged with the high eftfsions of your pen, must
be circutmscribed indeed,  The flight of letters mnay, for a
time, do well enough for yo ung misses, who love to indulge in the romance too incident to eternal letter-writing'




17 6
but this cannot be expected, or ought not to  be of such
a settled, staid, sober, and discreet matron as you,
(".... *   I  hope,  nladam,    tihat  you  dulyt   noted,   and
propeIly   appreciated,  mlly  very   good —natured,  cheerful,
prompt consent to  your mother's visit to Springfield,  and
even my readv consent to an extension  of the time she had
herself proposed  as  the  limit of  her time  with  you.  I
think  in  this  solitary  instance,  at least, I bore  ny severe
sufferings with some grace.'....   W alking  in  the garden on a Sunday evening,
during your mother's absence, it popped  into my head that
I would  attempt a little  rhylme or doggerel, partly to  see
how vfar my powers had  declined  frctm  their forimerfit es.,
fearing  they light have become a little steep...
SAbsence from you is stil nly dread,
For whilst the path of life ttread,
Ly temporal joys depend on you.
What is the worth of horiors, wealth,
What are good spirits, and firm health,
Unless your presence crowns my viewr 
"The choicest wvines, the cheerfil friend,
A short, a imeteor's glearn mlay lend;
But clouds and darkness must ensue,
If absent fiomt my joy in you.
Poets in fiction best succeed,
So say a alse, iisjudging, breed,
WX hose hearts love's fires ne'er could melt,
YWho ne'er the tender passion felt.
SLch I exclude, to those appeal
WTho have the godike power to feel
The wound that absencee s mre  ust give
T o those who in eaclh other live!




177
"Come then, return, restore to life 
Can I exist without my wife
Behold she cornes   Be still, my fears, —
All nature bloomns wvxhen she appears;
Htope, joy, ad bliss diffuse around,
And coltolrn soil turns Iden's ground.
"This  is the onxly  copy, and you will put it in the fire.
How  nm  spirits can carry me into the region of tolerable
cheerfutlness is a little mysterious even to  myself, though
your  sister Brav  has done  me  the  justice  to  sav  she
thinks I support myself wonderfiltly well,   sadlv low  at
times, however.  Eliza is at Hingihaio,        William  at Blue
Hills.  I hiear with pleasure that we are  soon to see you
with the children.
"Your affectionate Father,
S. ELL(OT."
Thus the years passed on, leaving  strong effects upon
young and old: old ftriends passed away, young ones advanced, and grandchildren brought new life  t h the home.
Ti'me  and  changes had naturally a little irmpaired the
elasticity of spirits for which Mr. Eliot had been remnark
able, and he allowed his imagination to be more colored by
fear than bv hope.  He was now  seventy  years old, and
needed  quiet and  cheerful influences  about him.   He
had them  in  larger measure than lie realized, anid he was
to have bitter teaching, by deprivation of sormte that he
possessed.
Charles, in three years of study, had developed a strong
character, acquired learning,  and shown powers of useful23




178
ness, and a desire for it, that made one wlho knew  himn
nmore thoroughly than any friend beyond his fitmily, and
who loved him  truly,     Mr. Norton,   say of him,  " if
ie had  lived  to take that station for which he sem1ed
destined,  he would have been one of those who give its
character to societNy, who guide and direct public opinion
and feeling."
While so  faithfilly  preparing  for future  duties, and
gathering  strength  to  help  others through the perils of
life, he was active and influential in forming the plan of
theological studies at Cambridge "whose advantages have
since been experienced  "; " he suggested and promoted the
Cambridge edition of Schleusner's Lexicon, and wrote the
principal part of its prospetus "; and he aided largely in
the publication  and  support of the  Cambridge General
Repository, of which Mr. Norton was editor, besides contributing  to  it with his pen.  In January, 1 83 (when
twenty-one), he was examline nd ad approved by the Boston
Association of Clergymen, and soon after preached his first
sermon at Dr. Pierce's church in Brookline.  His second
was at the church of his venerable kinsman, Dr. John
Eliot.  I suppose that the human heart is hardly capable
of a deeper happiness than Nr. Eliot felt when hearing
his son deliver from  the pulpit the well-considered, wellexpressed thought which narks his writings, with a caltm
and solemn manner, proving entire sincerity and devotion.
He pleased and attracted without dazzling; it was his subject, and not his own thoughts, that occupied him; while
his pale, intellectual face and tall, firagile form added interest
to his words.  I find but one allusion to this most interesting occasion, -  in a letter fi'rom   Irs. Eliot to her sister,
Miss Atkins,  written the i2th of March.'You say I




179
have not told you how  I like Charles as a preacher.  I
can give a good reason: I do not knowu.  To pretend to
give an opinion from the opportunity I have had to judge,
would be rash indeed.  I could not form anything like a
correct opinion of his manner, for I could not venture
to look at him enough; I have read two of his sermons,
that I think very good, and I hear he is well spoken of.
I have no doubt his talents are good.  His application
has been great, and, if his health is preserved, I think his
love of studv will make him capable of usefilness."   How
restrained and tremulous was the mother's joy!  Fear hung
about her heart.
O(nce more Charles preached, -in Mr. Lowell's church,
where his boyhood had been taught, and where familiar faces
met his eye, -  and then his rich, sweet voice was heard 1no
more in public.  A cold, a cough, prostration, the aggravatina power of the chill of sprinlg,how  well the course
is known!
In the early summer he returned to his father's house,
a conqueror, yet overcome,   a patient  sufferer.  The
progress of the disease was rapid; he had taxed mind and
body so fill-y that the end of power was approaching.
Stren gth failed gradually, but not his acquiescence; lie
taught resignation to all who came near him.  His faithful and tender friend, Mr. Norton, thus writes of him:'
There are few spectacles of higher moral sublimity
than to see one to whom  the future promised so much
camlIy,  atncd without perturbation, waiting the slow approach
of death., with a knowledge of its certainty, ald a full
apprehension of all that we can know of its nature.  lThis
was done by Mr. Lliot..... He spoke, as i hhad done
in health, of his trust in the mercy and providence of God,




i80
and of his belief of the high  destination of those who
endeavor to  fulfil the purposes of their existence.  It
produced a feeling  almost of cheerfulness to hear hiom taik
of death, and of his hope of meeting again the friends who
had gone before him from thli world."                -
Truly the hand of God was heavy  upon Mr. Eliot, and
well did Clharles understand what he suffered, not onlyfrom  the crushing of his hopes, buit the thoug ht that one
so  yOtng, so fit to help and elevate other lives, to be the
staff and support of his ownn old age, must pass through
this portal of bitter suffering,  and depart.  Charles strove
to lead him to acquiesce and let him go when his Heavenly
Father called  him, without repiling; and it was pitiful and
touching to see the effort  each iade to cheer the other,
in the father's visits to his son's chamber.  He   could coxnmand himself but for a short time, and with a wrung heart
would hasten to the garden, and there walk up and down
with heavy groans.  T:he summer days and weeks passed
on; the deep pathos, the tender ministrations, the  iu1sh of
the house, grew  hour by hour.  Mother, isters,  brothers,
and friends gathered wxhere the young disciple was subMmissively laying down his life, at the rmoment x when labor
seemed about to be recomnpensed and hopes fulfilled.  T Ilis
temperament was vehement and imnLpulsive, his hur1lan ax -
bition and desire to gratif  the hopes and wisles of his
parents must have been very strong, his physical sufferings
were severe   but he had so overcomxe himsxelf and the world,
thirouglh dcep religious fitlh and exntire trust in God, that
qtliet and calmness rested ulO n his sitrit    He receive.   is
itends with cheerul Ness and inte erest, and trict  to u   a
who approached him to gmain the faith txhat suplported hi iin
I give a short letter from Mrs. Eliot written at this time.t




318
"   ugust 14,  1 33.
I i wish it was iln my power to give mv dear sisters a
full view  of my mind  at this moment.   I alm  generally
tranquil, seldom   much  distressed.   I  luay  be  called  to
larder trials than I now endure.  If thus it is to be, I will
hope that my strength will be proportioned, that I may at
all times give thanks to the Father of mercies, who has, in
so many instances, blessed me, and who now has mixed so
many comrforts in my cup.  Althoug h it is a bitter draught,
I feel that mercy and goodness have called nle to drink it.
I cannot refuse it; I will not nmu uur, but say' Thy will
be done,' for it is good.
"I am truly, your aftectionate Sister,
C. ELIOT."
A  few  weeks  more, and  the  closing  scene came;  the
earthly life of that pure spirit ended the 28th September,
and  never shall I Forget the pitifull sight of his fither's
tottering  steps as leaning  upon  William's arm, he  followed* all that was left of long cherished hope to the tomb.
The heavy  hand  of grief bent his head  and  shook  his
vigorous frame; he was  burying  desires, affections,    abitions, that were a part of Ihis vitality.   For a time he
could  not be comforteci, vet he strove  to  submit.   He
longed for symlpathy, but was overcome by any expression
of it, anl i ed  to the solitude  of his rtoomrl   I have foundl
only twv)o Written exipressi ons of hil S   I 1n ys,
* It was thte cu tonm at tha t tine fur gentletmen, relatives and fiienrds, to follow the
hearse on fw)tt in the centre os the strect, to rming  som -letinties a long  pIoccs:sio n.   Ladies%
i-no previously Iad also watlked nIow went int carriages.




: 82
"'O the Rev. C(arles Lowell/.
"BOSTON, December t5,,813.
MY DEAR SIR, -  The early and  strong interest you
took  in  the reputation, credit, and  advancement of my
departed son, anld the publick honours vou have paid him,
demand all the gratitude that a heart of the strongest sensibility could feel; and it is with eyes suffused with tears
that I offer you the tribute of rmy thanks.
"( I have particularly  noted  and deeply felt the last instance of your unremitted endeavours to console and support me by the loan of the Life of the Son of Dr. Beattie,
and  the hour of its communicatio       n could  not miss my
gratefuil remark.
CC I have suffered much in reading it, and by several late
concurring circumstances, though  in sacred silenmce, not a
word having passed my lips.  I would bow with submission
to the will of God; and remember that'Suffering refines,
exalts the soul, Suffering is virtue's highest school.'
""I do not wish to escape it; I only pray to God to
enable me to bear his corrections with a proper temlper and
disposition, and to reward y ou for all your labours of love
and kind attentions to'Your deeply afflicted and obliged Friend,
" S. ELIOT."
",-itt:Z, on thf     D,1 j9(,f,a SO,:.
" Behold, ( God, mry7 sorrvowi ng Ieart,
By mournful scenes distre:ssd,
Call'd by thy providence to part
With whiat I thought tIy rest!




183
"When all my fondest wishes seen'd
Approaching to their goal,
And pleas'd anticipation deem'd
I had attained the whoFe.
Al Ah! when to my cnraptur'd view
My hopes were chang'd to joy,'T was then fear, death, mn  mind subdlue,
And my best plans destroy 
The object who so long had been
The care of every hour
Faints, sickens, dies  Support me then,
O Thou who hast the powaer
(Such is the lot of hapless man,
To-day we spring and bloom,
To-morrow's different page we escan,
And drop into the tomnb!
"Help me to see this dread event
An act of love divine,
And know thy sharpest lessons sent
T' amend, exalt, refine 
Teachn me submission to thy will,
And may I kiss the rod;
May my few days each duty fill,
And wing iny way to God!
c Avtc G:ST 28, I81i4."
It was in  the  year I 814  that Mr. Eliot, with  the as —
sistance  of Mr. John  Lowell, a faithful friend and  muchprized  companion, established  the  Greek  Professorship  at
Cambricdge; but nothing  was known  to  ay3,  one but Mr,
Lowell of his being  the  flounder,  till  after his death  in
182o.   Mr. Quincy, in his History  of Harvard  Univer



184
sity,  savs,  5The  donation  bestowed  by  Sanmuel Eliot
(, 20,000), in the foundation of the Greek Professorship,
was the largest sumn ever bestowed on the college bc-r any
benefactor in his lifetime, and the interest received -before
his death was equivalent to an addition of eight thousand
dollars to the original gift.  The bounty of no individual
flowed firom a higler or a purer source.  It was unsolicited
and unavowed.  It had its origin in the recesses of his
powerful Imnind.
"In the life of Sanmuel Ecliot, charity went han rd in hand
with success.  As a merchant lhe was prosperous and without reproach.  Amid the active pursuits of business he
cultivated a taste for literature and the arts; to the severity
of ancient morals he united the faith of a liberal Christian,
and joined a thorough knowledge of the world with a predilection for retirement and domestic life."
Of course, in the complete ignorance of the family as to
the giver of this liberal donation, the news was received
as of any other agreeable public fact and individual generosity.  I have no recollection or association with it.  My
fither, behind the shield of secrecy so faiithfull]  held before
him  by AMr. Lowell,  must have had some enloyment in.
hearing it discussed and praised, and used skill in taking or
avoiding a share in the comments.  HTe was very anxious
as to who should be appointed as Professor, having a strong
wish  thl-at Mr. Norton should be chosen, and was much
disappointed, aImost displeased, when  Mr. Everett was
selected, Flebruiary, i8.    1r.  E verett was inaugurated
in April, but, as he passe.d the next four years in Europe,
he did not enter upon his duties till.81 9.   1e had been
the clergyman of the Brattle Street Church for two years,
and was distinguisBhed by his brilliant talents and  great




185
popularity in societyv.  Mr. Eliot had very little personal
knowledge of hilm, and was not prepossessed in his favor.
It was, therefore, a double disappointment, and without
doubt it was aggravated lb  the long delay of the instruction he had provided for.
The days and months as they passed were heavy with
sadness to Mr. Eliot's heart.  He was now  seventy-four,
and most of his friends and contemporaries had passed away.
One who had been taken in February, i 83, — Dr. John
Eliot, — was a near relative and liie-long friend, who was
always ready with sympathy and gentle and wise influences,
and who would have been a strong support in these bitter
hours of bereavement.  The last time he was in his pulpit
was when his young kinsman spoke to his people, preparing
to take up the duties and offices so faithfully filled by the
venerable listener.  In a few  nmonths both were released
from earthly burdens.  Much was his kindly and strengthening companionship missed by Mr. and Mrs. Eliot.
The regular routine of life continued.  Mr. Eliot went
to his counting-room  every morning, but attended  to no
business, except what the care of' his property forced upon
him,   He strove to read, but books rarely fixed his attention, and he would sit for hours, his head resting on his
hand, or walk bacl and forth in the garden or the parlor.
But as the winter advanced he found occupation and a
mournft    l interest, in selecting and arranging, with the help
of Mr. Norton,* a collection of Charles's Essays and SerMr. Eliot frequently walked to and trnom Cambridge when desiring Mr. Norton's ad-'ice and help,




186
mons.  It was printed, not published, but the interest it
excited was a soothing gratification to the parents Who had
seen so much fade from life.
Peace with England brightened all hearts in the spring,
and daily life brought many sources of interest and cheerfulness to those who sat in the shadow of sorrow.  William
had done well through his whole college life, and when he
graduated, in August, i815, had the Latin Ponem assigned
to him  by the government of the college.  It gratified his
father, who partly to please his son, and partly as a complimnent to the college, determined to give an entertainnment
in Cambridge on Commencement-day, like many that had
been given on the same occasion, though on a different
scale. There was generally a gathering of friends and
strangers at a collation, immediately after the perfbrrmances
of the young mten had ended; and as there was no suitable
ball in Cambridge for the purpose, it had been once or
twice held in a marquee.
Mr. Eliot's invitations included all his acquaintance in the
country, as well as town, and all the strangers who, at that
period, were attracted to the Canmbridge Commencenment
in great numbers.  Applications for invitations were freely
made for the friends of friends, and freely given; till more
than five hundred citizens, good and true, were summoned.
There was much occupation, bustle, and excitement in
the quiet household, suddenly taken  from  the  closest
seclusion and brought into contact with hosts of adviser-s,
helpers, and providers; for the resources for such occasions
in I8iS bore no proportion to those of the present day.
The landlord of the Exchange Hotel, in Boston, was to
send out the materials for the collation, and his limited experience in such affairs needed much aid. A house was hired




187
for the reception of the guests, rooms being arranged for refreshing the gay summer toilets of the ladies; an immense
marquee was raised in a field opposite; a band of music
cheered the spiriits of the company, and, after the collation
and the coffe, the younger portion of the company were
indulged in a little dancing on the green in front of the
house.  All was gayety, animation, and propriety; there
were no visible contretemnps, and before the summer twilight
had passed away the crowd had dispersed, the heroes and
heroines of the day, the lovers and the flirters, no doubt
lamenting that such bright hours must end.  It was a
wonderful episode in the secluded life in Tremont Street,
but tranquillity and retirement soon again encircled the
household.  William,   with his gay, fresh, contagious spirits
(his heart already in the keeping  of another), established
himself for serious work in Mr. William  Prescott's office,
and added greatly to the cheerfulness of the home.
Mrs. Dwight returned this season to her native town,
and established herself in a house where the Athenaum
now stands; and her unchanged brightness and intelligence,
and her little ones, were sources of constant interest and refireshment.
Mrs. Scarle., Mrs. Eliot's oldest sister, had been living
with her family for a year or two in one of Mr. Eliot's
houses, next his own (where now stands the Pavilion Hotel),
and with her uncommon strength of mind, quiet dignity,
and warm affections, was a strengthening and cheering influence to all, and a great happiness to Mrs. Eliot.
Mr. Eliot's spirits, though variable, had brightened in
the last months, and his health remained vigorous; but as




188
the winter of 18 5 - 6 advanced, a new cloud seemed settling upon him, too dark for concealment, but never explained.  He went to his counting-room  as usual, and to
his book-room in the evenings, but he came froir both in
deep depression.  No one could detect the cause.  At
length he brought home one day the morning paper, and,
to the astonishment of all, permitted his daughter to read
to him certain portions of it. It was usually the earliest interest of the day, and why he subrnitted to hearing it read,
was a question which filled the minds of the household.
It continued to be the occupation of the afternoon, while
silent unhappiness increased.  His habits and movements
appeared the same as usual till late in the winter, when,
coting home at noon one day, he founcd it difficult to guide
himself througih the streets.  Then, for the first time, he
told Mrs. Eliot that for many months cataracts had been
forming upon both his eyes.  It was mournful news, and
we wondered not only how he had so silently endured so
great a trouble, but how he would be able to support
what must follow.
Few persons, I imagine, were ever more determined, both
from preference and fromn principle, to be absolutely independent of the services of others, personally, and i nll alffairs
of business or care of property.  He chose to manage and
direct what belonged to him, without advice or intervention. He really disliked hearing others read. What hidden
struggles and strong trouble he must have passed through,
as darkness gradually thickened upon him, and the conviction that he must rely upon others for evervthing grew
more decided!  He went no more into the street, but a rope
stretched along the garden path, at the height of his hand,
afforded means for taking air and exercise. Reading became




189
his only solace, but at great cost of patience and taste.
Many voices were at his command.  T'hrough  couftesy
some kind offirs were accepted; but the mnanner so often
clouded the natter and diminished the pleasure, that it
soon beCame the habit for the two youngest daughters to
devote alternate days wholly to his service.  He was thus
free to correct emphasis, pronunciation, or too great rapidity, to interrupt at his pleasure, and to break the reading by
dictating letters or notes.  This last occupation quickened
his interest and animation. He was generally very patient.
By degrees the readers became better able to suit the
sensitive ear and refined taste, and to continue the occupation through eight hours, in the divisions of morning,
afternoon, atd  evening.  With an acceptable book and a
contented listener, the work was easy; but at all times the
entrance of a visitor who was welcome to the recluse was
cheering to the reader.
It was difficult in thosedays, as in all others, to find
a succession of books that could stand the test of being
read aloud.  There were few private libraries, and the one
or two  Circulating  Libraries contained little but trash.
Histories and works in many volumes Mr. Eliot did not
enjoy.  Reviews and nmagcazines afforded amusement, but
they were few  in number at that time.  The  advent of
Campbell's " Specimens of the British Poets " made an
epoch of refreshment and delight, and Miss Edgeworth's
and the Waverley Novels, as they came in succession, were
hailed like personal benefitctors.
But with all help and kindness, all effoits for resignation,
and all hopes of future relief, the days and mont-hs wxore on
heavil y.  Even after so long a lie of lablor and care, of excitement, Sorr*Ow, and disappointment, such enforced quiet,




19o
and rest, were not welcome. He was imprisoned with backward-looking thoughts, and he would gladly have sought
relief from  them in the activity that still seemed possible,
with such clearness of mind, and vigor of bodv as he possessed. But as I recall his bearing under these trials of his
temperament and character, I perceive that he maintained
the same resolute strength, and the same firm principles,
that had sustained him through life.
After many consultations and discussions, Mr. Eliot determined to have an operation performed upon his eyes, in
the spring of 1817, by Mr. Nathan Smith, of Hanover,
New  Hampshire,  a distinguished surgeon and oculist.
He was a man of genius in his profession, with a full and
ready mind, quick wit, and most genial humor, and during
the six weeks that he was an inmate of Mr. Eliot's home,
his cheerfulness, unfStiling fund of anecdote and story, his
kindliness and strong sense brightened many hours.  He
was summ ioned to many other patients at various distances,
but made Mr. Eliot his first care.
The operation was skilfully performed, but the cataracts
were soft, and the absorption necessary to a cure was a
strong test of the vigor of the eyes and of the general
health.   It was an anxious interval, and the question
whether his great age would prevent recovery-whether
he was to be a prisoner in darkness the rest of his life or
be freed for new enjoyment-made all anxious who surrounded him.  When the time can-e to test the result, and
the bandages were removed, he saw, and great was the
excitement and joy.  Great care and restriction were indispensable, but constant experiments and measurements of
the amount of sight were made; and so much  was recovered before the autumn  that he could read a little




191
could go about freely, and was full of hope and content.
But one day, in too fuill confidence of strength, he read a
whole paper in his favorite book, - the Rambler, -and inflammation immediately followed.  It was an acute disappointment, and the winter was a dreary season of alternating
hope and discouragement, as the inflammation lessened and
returned.   luch sympathy, constant kind attention from
friends, and the devotion of the family, gave what alleviation was possible; but it could be only alleviation.  Submission, was difficult.
In  March,  1817,  my sister Eliza's mlarriage to 7Mr.
Guild gave an added friend to the circle, always ready for
any kindness or service, and as both Mary and Eliza were
then established in houses next to Mrs. Bray's, we felt surrounded by affection and sympathy. Sam, too, having graduated in the autumn, was more at home, and firee to devote
himself to his father; and William, the young law student
was always ready with his pen or supporting arm; but he
never could make his reading acceptable to the sensitive ear.
His bright mind, ready wit, and quick feeling, his beautiful singing and his frolics, were infinite refreshments to the
rest of the household, in the intervals of his studies and
engagements.  In the spring of I818 his engagement to
Miss Bradford seemed to fill the measure of his happiness,
and of his resolution to deserve it.  In the following summer he sailed for England, having determined to pursue
his law studies in London for at least one season.  This
was a gratification to Mr. Eliot, who always held the faith
that the best of everything, whether intellectual or material,
was only to be obtained in that glorious island.  But the
place so filled by William could be supplied by no one else 
stillness and gravity settled more and more upon the circle.




I92
Frequent inflammations and returning dimness of the sight,
seemed only preludes to entire blindness.   Dr. Smith offered some hope from  a second operation, and it was performed in September,  8  8.  It produced very little effect,
but it was final; restless anxiety, agitating hopes, and eager
grasping after remedies were quieted, and resignation to the
inevitable, grew to calmness. Old habits and resources were
gathered up, and the days slipped away peacefuliyx
Mr. Eliot declined  to see strangers;  his great age-he
was now seventy-nine -and oppressed spirits were natural
objections, but he had also an unacknowledged feeling of
mortification  at his  helplessness.   He  had  reached  the
period when the heart and thoughts of men, weary with the
cares and burdens of life,  most need  the cheering fices of
friends, and  the light and power of the sun.  His strong
sense of beauty,* his delight in nature, from  a broad landscape to  the  most delicate  flower,  his  pleasure  in  animals, frorm  a fine horse to the birds that clustered in his
garden and the kitten that so often followed his steps or
climbed to his shoulder, must have supplied and brightened
his reveries, but no doubt sharpened  his sense  of loss.
Still he bore himself with  a firmness and  patience, that
astonished even those who knew hinm  best.
Rather absorbed  by my recollections  of this particular
trial,  IIhave not noted  in its place  a sudden  sorrow  that;- One of my cousins, who remembers my athcr longer than I can, speaks of her strolng
impression of his delicate Feeing, and hlis enjoyment of all beauty, particularly thi loveliness of children. She recalls, with mnuch feeling, his tenxderness and consideration thirourgh
the illness and death of one oher sisters at his house. Mrr Eliot shrank from the sight
of suflfring and acute sorrow, it almost lnmianned him   but when their presence was
inevitable, nothing   could exceed   his kindness)



193
came upon us in February, i8I8.  Mr. Bray, in walking
through a narrow passage on his way home one evening, in
a blinding snow.-storm, struck his head against an i ron bar,
and soon after w"as seized w th apoplexy.  He never re,covered consciousness, and died in five days.  It was a sad
event to us all.  His per'oct temper and equability, his
truthfulness and sincere kindness,  had won true respect and
afiection,  and from  Mr. Eliot, in his state of dependence,
it took a long-trusted support, and renewed the sharp anxiety of early years for the bereaved, wife.  She gave herself up to grief, never left her house,   and demanded constant care and  cornpanionship.  1er Ifther went to h er
often,  making pathetic efforts to iorget his own loss and
burdens, for her sake.
I think it was in this winter th that the oldest daughter of
his sister,  M rs. Belknap, died, calling forth from  Mnrs.
Eliot that tender sympathy, presence of mind,  and wise
action so often shown before.
Another year passed aw ay in  quiet patience.  Little
Catherine IDwight, then two years old, was a dailv pleasure
to her grandfither, coming to him  every morning after her
breakfist, atnd, with her sweet voice, imperfc-t words, and
caressing ways, charming him, as her lovely color, her
brown  curls, and  pretty  figure  delighted  those   whose
senses were more complete  She came dancing in with thie
reigning fivorite book or toy, and would sit on her grandfather's knee through tihe operations of the Jr',seul, reciting
moost dramatcally verses or stories, and often  attractinlg
admirers fiorn both sections of the imily.  What a bright
vision she was -  animated and gay, yet gentle and docile;
affectionate,  fuil  of intelligence  and quick perception,  her
intelligent re-arks  and  questions  enchanated  the  aged
25




194
listener, and he lent himself to the open enjoyment of the
delight, as he had never dared to do with his own children.
Thus, with constant development, for twenty years Catiherine added a charm  and cheering to the lives of all connected with her, and then she was taken to the Heaven
from  which she simply seemed to have been lent.
Mr. Eliot still showed no faltering of mind or body.
His health and vigor were remarkable, his fi>gure was full,rnd erect, his complexion fresh, and his step firm and animated where the path was familiar.  Indeed, I have no impression of change in his appearance, manner, or voice to
his last day.  Reading continued to be his chief happiness,
and his taste for strotg and high-toned books the samne as
ever.  It was not often, therefore, that he coultd ite full
interest; but when a striking  thought, an eloquent passage, or a new fact occurred in the reading, his enoy mletlt
was very animated, and  he desired  a second  reading  of
the passage.
In January, 1820 (being then nearly eighty-one), Mr.
Eliot's usual health seeled a little disturbed; he was more
uncomfortable than ill, but, after a day or two, consented to
see Dr. Danfbrth, an aged friend, and for that period a
skilful physician.  We were startled by his appearing to
consider our father's condition very grave, and by his cdirections that he must not go up and down stairs more than
was ahsolutely necessary, and that he must not be left aioie,
adding that death minght come without f-:rther warning.
4There was no apparent suiffering, except fiom  irritation of
the nerves, and we watched and feared, and strove to cheer
and soothe, througni  an anxious ftrtnight.  He changed




L95
but little, continu>ng almost his usual thabits till, in the last
days of the fortnigcht, he grew more tranquil, perhaps mnore
feeble, and consented to remain in his chamber.  It was on
the ith of Jaanuary, while my sister Catherine  was alone
with him,  that he tranquilly and almost instantly passed
froom one life to another.  All who were in the house were
gathered about him  in a moment, physicians were called,
and hurried efforts made to recall life; but the ~great change,
the great release had come, the spirit had parted from  its
companion and interpreter during eighty years, had escaped
from  that narrow, darkened dwelling, and reached new sight
and fresh existence.  It was a peaceful end of a long and
rich experience.
I have sketchel a simple, unpretending lifi, in no way
remarkable for uncommon talent, or for rare events, but
dignified by unfitering uprightness, high aims, and steadfist resolution.  With nothing to rely upon in youth and
manhood but personal industry, self-denial, and determined
adherence to truth and honesty through all temptations,
he gained not only friends, wealth, and an honored position
in the community,   but opportunity to  serve  that community, and to leave a record of noble liberality.  His
mode of life was modest and retiring;  his strong desire
was to enlarge his own mind,  and to help a nd stimulate
others to  io trhe same.  He governed his household and
ed ucated his children bv the best light and knowledge he
possessed;  he wxas a sincere and  coinstant  friend, and
kind and generous to those whom  he fbiund struLggling   as
he halal dot~i.'t11"'tre was inobleitess in  Ilis nature, his
if:tpuises w:ere 9l-C;'rrois, his scilsirt)ics qu.ick an' d telidner




t 9 6
suddenly  excited feeling sometimes made him  tnjust, or
strengthened a prejudice, but self-command and regret soon
ol lowed.
Among my strongest impressions of my fatther are those
of his firinness and refinementt.  Whatever his principles
or his intellect suggested should be done, he flound meains
to accomplish.  Though bred in poverty,  and knowing  but
short intervals from  hard work in manhood, his manners
expressed  self-respect, a courtly  desire to please, aId  a
refined  decision, that compelled consideration and good
manners from others.  His style of living, the occupations
of his leisure, expressed  a sound judgment and a fine
natural taste.  Neither elation nor ostentation were seen in
him; he did not conceal iLhe humnble beginning of his life,
nor did he disparage its subsequent success.
Integrity, faithfulness, o bedience to the laws of God and
of conscience, were the rules of his life.  He has left to his
descendants an example that, faithfully followed, will not
only be an honor to him, but brhing richl blessings upon
them.




AItDDITIONAL  PAPERSS








AD) DITIONAL P AP IERS.
S   ON  after Mr. Eliot's death it was announced to his familm,
k)  by Mr. John Lowell, that he w as the founder of the Greek
Professorship at Cambridge University,-   a act so faithfully kept
secret for six years that it excited almost as much surprise as
pleasure.  T1he Corporation of the College sent, through a committee, a letter to the family, expressing  their sense of the liberality
and importance of the benefaction, the obligations of the Unixversity
to the author of this act of niunificence, and their condolence at the
loss thev had sustained."
The many princely gifts to public institutions in late years make
this endowment appear a modest one, but in jI8I4 it was,widely
noticed and cordially praised.
Extracts ftor   a letter from  the 1-5z..')Thz LZowell to Air.
If/zlli'ae   H. Eliot, then in Europe.
"BOsTO~n, February 4, I 8zo.
" D)EAR SIR    You will probably have heard before the present
letter will reach you (for x'what has swifter wings than calamity?)
of the departure of your father, and my excellent and constant
friend.  It seems to me impossible that both at the moment of your
qutting him, and whenever you turned your thoughts hoIteward1 iL
should not have been contemplated as an event of not improbable
occurrenc e.  For the strength and vigor of his constitution, at his
advanced age, must have appeared to you, as to others, as a pro



200
tracted miraclec out of the course of nature, and the>refore that
when the te thread should break, it woold sinap suddenlly
1 These anticipations, I know, often took firm  hold of his own
moint, and never were they so distinctly expressed to me as when he,as caled upon to bid you adieu.  He hlad a prophetic ft eling that
it was the last glanc he should ever cast upon his son...
" I wish you had been at home to receive the consolation under
this bereavementl  to have your share of the melancholy pleasure,
der ived ioiM the unaninmous testimoy of the wise and l  ood to the
excellence of his character, -  from  thie  praise -just praisw e   bestowed upon him  for his munificence, beneficence~ and magraniiltyv
and a praise scarcely inferior far his judgnlent and excellent discrimination in the apportionment of his estate among  his family.. most distinguished law character assuraed c   me that he este-nmed it
the most honorable testament  ever made in tlhe United States,-a
perpetual lesson which would be invaluable a aan example, -- adding
that several opulent imen had declared their intention to procure an
office copy of it as a model.  This  is just.  Such a testannlent is
far more infiuential than the most touching, hbartrea  ini g dSclourse
of Massilhon, Saurin, or Taylor.  Men who can Withstand teoquenlce and the reproaches of consciene%, are often uSable to resist
the stroong influentce  of an undivided  pubitc sen:timen-t.
I Already I have perceived in nmia:y rich men a sort o(f posthzt;zi&
ses/biitS(y; they begin to ask, what wil the world say o         i me and
mxy  testament when  it comres to  pronounce its last and  loud
sentence on my memory?  God intended this public sentiment as
one of the restraints on immoral or dishonorable conaduct.
That yoeur jour ney may Ihave been as productive of pleasure,
as impro.ving to your niin, and as rich a source of future agreeable recollectionsa s yot  could wishh  and  that vyot mara   be restored to those  who love vou, and whom  you lo,  im'proved   in
health, awcId to taste  pleasures which Europe with all her stores
can  never furnish, is the sincerest wish o' yvour fathers closest
friend;t lnd  one who would fin be esteetied yours,
j JOHN LOWt iLL."