DICKINSON'S CORRESPONDENCE WITH HIGGINSON
In April of 1962 Dickinson read an article by Thomas Wentworth Higginson in the Atlantic Monthly entitled "Letter to a Young Contributor," which gave practical advice to writers seeking magazine publication for their creative writing. Shortly thereafter she initiated a correspondence with Higginson in which she regularly asked for his advice regarding her poetry, while also gradually establishing a friendship with him. Select letters from the Dickinson-Higginson correspondence have been reproduced below, with explanatory notes and links to relevant texts. The overwhelming majority of the letters are from Dickinson to Higginson, but selected letters and journal entries from Higginson appear below as well.
References
Higginson, Thomas W. "Emily Dickinson's Letters." The Atlantic Monthly 68.408 (1891): 444-456. Cornell University Library: Making of America. (accessed June 9, 2006). [Also here.]
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(1)
April 15 1862
Mr Higginson,
Are you too deeply occupied to say if my Verse is alive?
The Mind is so near itself--it cannot see, distinctly--and I have none to ask--
Should you think it breathed--and had you the leisure to tell me, I should feel quick gratitude--
If I make the mistake--that you dared to tell me--would give me sincerer honor--toward you--
I enclosed my name--asking you, if you please--Sir--to tell me what is true?
That you will not betray me--it is needless to ask--since Honor is it's own pawn--
[ENCLOSED: A separate card with Dickinson's name, and drafts of four poems: "Safe in their Alabaster Chambers" (216), "The nearest Dream recedes--unrealized" (319), "We play at Paste" (320), and "I'll tell you how the Sun rose" (318). ]
[NOTES: ...]
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(2)
April 25 1862
Mr. Higginson,
Your kindness claimed earlier gratitude--but I was ill--and write today, from my pillow.
Thank you for the surgery--it was not so painful as I supposed. I bring you others--as you ask--though they might not differ--
While my thought is undressed--I can make the distinction; but when I put them in the Gown--they look alike, and numb.
You asked how old I was? I made no verse--but one or two--until this winter--Sir--
I had a terror--since September--I could tell to no one--and so I sing, as the Boy does of the Burying Ground--because I am afraid--You inquire my Books-- For Poets--I have Keats--and Mr and Mrs Browning. For Prose--Mr. Ruskin--Sir Thomas Browne--and the Revelations. I went to school--but in your manner of the phrase--had no education. When a little Girl, I had a friend, who taught me Immortality--but venturing too near, himself--he never returned--Soon after, my Tutor, died--and for several years, my Lexicon--was my only companion-- Then I found one more--but he was not contented I be his scholar--so he left the Land.
You ask of my Companions [--] Hills--Sir--and the Sundown--and a Dog--large as myself, that my Father bought me--They are better than Beings--because they know--but do not tell--and the noise in the Pool, at Noon--excels my Piano. I have a Brother and Sister--My Mother does not care for thought--and Father, too busy with his Briefs--to notice what we do--He buys me many Books--but begs me not to read them--because he fears they joggle the Mind. They are religious--except me--and address an Eclipse, every morning--whom they call their "Father." But I fear my story fatigues you--I would like to learn-- Could you tell me how to grow--or is it unconveyed--like Melody--or Witchcraft?
You speak of Mr. Whitman--I never read his Book--but was told that he was disgraceful--
I read Miss Prescott's "Circumstance," but it followed me, in the Dark--so I avoided her--
Two Editors of Journals came to my Father's House, this winter--and asked me for my Mind--and when I asked them "Why," they said I was penurious--and they, would use it for the World--
I could not weigh myself--Myself--
My size felt small--to me--I read your chapters in the Atlantic--and experienced honor for you--I was sure you would not reject a confiding question--
Is this--Sir--what you asked me to tell you?
Your friend,
E-- Dickinson
[ENCLOSED: According to Higginson (1891), Dickinson enclosed two poems with this letter: "Your Riches--taught me--Poverty" (299) and "A Bird came down the Walk" (328). However, Johnson and Ward note that the folds in the manuscript letter and poems suggest that Dickinson actually sent three different poems: "There came a Day at Summer's full" (322), "Of all the Sounds despatched abroad" (321), and "South Winds jostle them" (86).]
[NOTES: In "Letter to a Young Contributor," Higginson had mentioned Victorian art critic John Ruskin and Renaissance essayist Sir Thomas Browne as positive models of prose style, and had also cited British Romantic John Keats as a fine model of poetic expression. Robert Browning and his wife Elizabeth Barrett Browning were two of the most popular British poets during the Victorian period; Dickinson mentioned them often in her letters. Harriet Prescott Spofford's "Circumstance" was published in the Atlantic Monthly during May 1860. Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass, first published in 1855 and re-issued in several editions over the following decades, became known to many readers through its scandalous reputation for sexually explicit imagery and undertones of homoeroticism. ]
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(3)
June 7 1862
Dear friend.
Your letter gave no Drunkenness, because I tasted Rum before--Domingo comes but once--yet I have had few pleasures so deep as your opinion, and if I tried to thank you, my tears would block my tongue--
My dying Tutor told me that he would like to life till I had been a poet, but Death was much of a Mob as I could master--then--And when far afterward--a sudden light on Orchards, or a new fashion in the wind troubled my attention--I felt a palsy, here--the Verses just relieve--
Your second letter surprised me, and for a moment, swung--I had not supposed it. Your first--gave no dishonor, because the True--are not ashamed--I thanked you for your justice--but could not drop the Bells whose jingling cooled my Tramp--Perhaps the Balm, seemed better, because you bled me, first.
I smile when you suggest that I delay "to publish"--that being foreign to my thought, as Firmament to Fin.
If fame belonged to me, I could not escape her--if she did not, the longest day would pass me on the chase--and the approbation of my Dog, would forsake me--then--My Barefoot-Rank is better--
You think my gait "spasmodic"--I am in danger--Sir--
You think me "uncontrolled"--I have no Tribunal.
Would you have time to be the "friend" you should think I need? I have a little shape--it would not crowd your Desk--nor make much Racket as the Mouse, that dents your Galleries--
If I might bring you what I do--not so frequent to trouble you--and ask you if I told it clear--'twould be control, to me.
The Sailor cannot see the North--but knows the Needle can--
The "hand you stretch me in the Dark," I put mine in, and turn away--I have no Saxon, now--
As if I asked a common Alms,
And in my wondering hand
A Stranger pressed a Kingdom,
And I, bewildered, stand--
As if I asked the Orient
Had it for me a Morn--
And it should lift it's purple Dikes,
And shatter me with Dawn!
But, will you be my Preceptor, Mr. Higginson?
Your friend
E Dickinson--
[NOTES: No additional poems were enclosed with this letter. The poem within main text of the letter is the full text of Dickinson's "As if I asked a common Alms" (323). Dickinson's phrase "I have no Saxon" is a colloquial equivalent to "Language fails me"; see her poem "Many a phrase has the English langugage" (276), where she uses "Saxon" to refer to the English languge.]
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(4)
July 1862
Could you believe me--without? I had no portrait, now, but am small, like the Wren, and my Hair is bold, like the Chestnut Bur--and my eyes, like the Sherry in the Glass, that the Guest leaves--Would this do just as well?
It often alarms Father--He says Death might occur, and he has Molds of all the rest--but has no Mold of me; but I noticed the Quick wore off those things, in a few days, and forestall the dishonor--You will think no caprice of me--
You said "Dark." I know the Butterfly--and the Lizard--and the Orchis--
Are not those your Countrymen?
I am happy to be your scholar, and will deserve the kindness, I cannot repay.
If you truly consent, I recite, now--
Will you tell me my fault, frankly as to yourself, for I had rather wince, than die. Men do not call the surgeon, to commen--the Bone, but to set it, Sir, and fracture within, is more critical. And for this, Preceptor, I shall bring you--Obedience--the blossom from my Garden, and every gratitude I know. Perhaps you smile at me. I could not stop for that--My business is Circumference--An ignorance, not of Customs, but if caught with the Dawn--or the Sunset see me--Myself the only Kangaroo among the Beauty, Sir, if you please, it afflicts me, and I thought that instruction would take it away.
Because you have business, beside the growth of me--you will appoint, yourself, how often I shall come--without your inconvenience. And if at any time--you regret you received me, or I prove a different fabric to that you supposed--you must banish me--
When I state myself, as the Representative of the Verse--it does not mean--me--but a supposed person. You are true about the "perfection."
Today, makes Yesterday mean.
You spoke of Pippa Passes--I never heard anybody speak of Pippa Passes--before.
You see my posture is benighted.
To thank you, baffles me. Are you perfectly powerful? Had I a pleasure you had not, I could delight to bring it.
Your Scholar
[ENCLOSED: Drafts of four poems--"Of Tribulation, these are they" (325), "Your Riches--taught me--Poverty" (299), "Some keep the Sabbath going to Church" (324), and "Success is counted sweetest" (67).]
[NOTES: Dickinson wrote this letter is in response to Higginson's request to see a photograph of her. Although she tells Higginson that she has no portrait, a daguerrotype of her had been taken when she was about seventeen years old. This daguerrotype is the only confirmed photo of the poet; however, recently Philip Gura at UNC-CH purchased a photograph that may also be an image of the poet at a later age. Dickinson's reference to her father's "Molds" of other family members may allude to the contemporary practice of having life masks (as well as death masks) made from plaster molds as mementos of family members. Published in 1841, Pippa Passes is a lyrical/dramatic work written by British poet Robert Browning; this work became the first of a longer series of works he published under the collective title Bells and Pomegranates. Dickinson's comment "When I state myself..." may serve as a cautionary note to readers who may be inclined to read her work too strictly in biographical terms.]
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(5)
August 1862
Dear friend--
Are these more orderly? I thank you for the Truth--
I had no Monarch in my life, and cannot rule myself; and when I try to organize--my little Force explodes--and leaves me bare and charred--
I think you called me "Wayward." Will you help me improve?
I suppose the pride that stops the Breath, in the Core of Woods, is not of Ourself--
You say I confess the little mistake, and omit the large--Because I can see Orthography--but the Ignorance out of sight--is my preceptor's charge--
Of "shunning Men and Women"--they talk of Hallowed things, aloud--and embarass my Dog--He and I dont object to them, if they'll exist their side. I think Carl[o] would please you--He is dumb, and brave--I think you would like the Chesnut Tree, I met in my walk. It hit my notice suddenly--and I thought the Skies were in Blossom--
Then there's a noiseless noise in the Orchard--that I let persons hear-- You told me in one letter you could not come to see me, "now," and I made no answer; not because I had none, but did not think myself the price that you should come so far--
I do not ask so large a pleasure, lest you might deny me--
You say, "Beyond your knowledge." You would not jest with me, because I believe you--but, Preceptor--you cannot mean it? All men say "What" to me, but I thought it a fashion--
When much in the Woods as a little Girl, I was told that the Snake would bite me, that I might pick a poisonous flower, or Goblins kidnap me, but I went along and met no one but Angels, who were far shyer of me, than I could be of them, so I havn't the confidence in fraud which many exercise.
I shall observe your precept--though I dont understand it, always.
I marked a line in One Verse--because I met it after I made it--and never consciously touch a paint, mixed by another person--
I do not let it go, because it is mine.
Have you the portrait of Mrs Browning? Persons sent me three--If you had none, will you have mine?
Your Scholar--
[ENCLOSED: Drafts of two poems--"Before I got my eye put out" (327) and "I cannot dance upon my Toes" (326). ]
[NOTES: "Carl[o]" was the name of Dickinson's dog; her comments here offer a humorous reply to Higginson's question regarding her tendency to avoid social interactions. Regarding this letter, Higginson wrote: "It would seem that at first I tried a little--a very little--to lead her in the direction of rules and traditions; but I fear it was only perfunctory, and that she interested me more in her--so to speak--unregenerate condition. Still, she recognizes the endeavor. In this case, as will be seen, I called her attention to the fact that while she took pains to correct the spelling of a word, she was utterly careless of greater irregularities. It will be seen by her answer that with her usual naive adroitness she turns my point..."]
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(6)
February 1863
Dear friend
I did not deem that Planetary forces annulled--but suffered an Exchange of Territory, or World--
I should have liked to see you before you became improbable. War feels to me an oblique place--Should there be other Summers, would you perhaps come?
I found you were gone, by accident, as I find Systems are, or Seasons of the year, and obtain no cause--but suppose it a treason of Progress--that dissolves as it goes. Carlo--still remained--and I told him--
Best Gains--must have the Losses' Test--
To constitute them--Gains--
My Shaggy Ally assented--
Perhaps Death--gave me awe for friends--striking sharp and early, for I held them since--in a brittle love--of more alarm, than peace. I trust you may pass the limit of War, and though not reared to prayer--when service is had in Church, for Our Arms, I include yourself--I, too, have an "Island"--where "Rose and Magnolia" are in the Egg, and it's "Black Berry" but a spicy prospective, yet as you say, "fascination" is absolute of Clime. I was thinking, today--as I noticed, that the "Supernatural," was only the Natural, disclosed--
Not "Revelation"--'tis--that waits,
But our unfurnished eyes--
But I fear I detain you--
Should you, before this reaches you, experience immortality, who will inform me of the Exchange? Could you, with honor, avoid Death, I entreat you--Sir--It would bereave
Your Gnome
I trust the "Procession of Flowers" was not a premonition--
[ENCLOSED: A draft of one additional poem--"The Soul unto itself" (683). ]
[NOTES: The first poem within the main text of the letter is the entire text of Dickinson's short poem "Best Gains--must have the Losses' Test" (684); the second is the entire text of Dickinson's short poem "Not 'Revelation'--'tis--that waits" (685). In November of 1862 Higginson went to South Carolina to commend a black regiment in the Union army; the Springfield Republican featured items on Higginson and his troops on January 1 and February 6 of 1863. Higginson's nature essay "Procession of Flowers" had appeared in the December 1862 issue of the Atlantic Monthly. In her comments, Dickinson responds to certain passages from the essay; one passage from the essay reads as follows: "Nature has, in every zone, stamped on the landscape the peculiar type of beauty proper to the locality...the fascination of summer lies not in any details, however perfect, but in the sense of total wealth which summer gives. Wholly to enjoy this, one must give oneself passively to it, and not expect to reproduce it in words. We strive to picture heaven, when we are barely at the threshold of the inconceivable beauty of the earth." Her postscript seems to express the hope that Higginson's wartime experience will not result in another sort of flowery "procession." Higginson could not find an explanation for Dickinson's closing signature; Johnson and Ward speculate that Higginson may have commented on the "gnomic" quality of her poetry.]
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(7)
About 1863
Dear friend--
You were so generous to me, that if possible I offended you, I could not too deeply apologize.
To doubt my High Behavior, is a new pain--I could be honorable no more--till I asked you about it. I know not what to deem myself--Yesterday "Your Scholar"--but might I be the one you tonight, forgave, 'tis a Better Honor. Mine is but just the Thief's Request--
Please, Sir, Hear
"Barabbas"--
The possibility to pass
Without a Moment's Bell--
Into Conjecture's presence--
Is like a face of steel
That suddenly looks into our's
With a Metallic Grin--
The Cordiality of Death--
Who Drills his welcome--in--
[NOTES: No extra poems were enclosed with this letter. The passage quoted in the main text of the letter is the final stanza of Dickinson's poem "That after Horror--that 'twas us" (286). Barabbas is the name of the thief in the New Testament whose crucifixion was suspended shortly before Jesus's crucifixion.]
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(8)
June 1864
Dear friend,
Are you in danger--
I did not know that you were hurt. Will you tell me more? Mr Hawthorne died.
I was ill since September, and since April, in Boston, for a Physician's care--He does not let me go, yet I work in my Prison, and make Guests for myself--
Carlo did not come, because that he would die, in Jail, and the Mountains, I could not hold now, so I brought but the Gods--
I wish to see you more than before I failed--Will you tell me your health?
I am surprised and anxious since receiving your note--
The only News I know
Is Bulletins all day
From Immortality.
Can you render my Pencil?
The physician has taken away my Pen.
I enclose the address from a letter, lest my figures fail--Knowledge of your recovery--would excel my own--
E-- Dickinson
[NOTES: No extra poems were enclosed with this letter. The stanza quoted in the main text of the letter is the first stanza of Dickinson's poem "The Only News I know" (827). Higginson had been wounded in July 1863, and left the army in May 1864. In September 1863 Dickinson began to have trouble with her eyes, which required her to take periodic trips to a Boston physician.]
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(9)
January 1866
Carlo died--
E. Dickinson
Would you instruct me now?
[ENCLOSED: A draft of one poem--"Further in Summer than the Birds" (1068). ]
[NOTES: For "Carlo," see notes to #5 above. This brief note attempts to resume correspondence with Higginson after a lapse of eighteen months.]
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(10)
Early 1866
Dear friend.
Whom my Dog understood could not elude others.
I should be so glad to see you, but think it an apparitional pleasure--not to be fulfilled. I am uncertain of Boston.
I had promised to visit my Physician for a few days in May, but Father objects because he is in the habit of me.
Is it more far to Amherst?
You will find a minute Host but a spacious Welcome--
Lest you meet my Snake and suppose I deceive it was robbed of me--defeated too of the third line by the punctuation. The third and fouth were one--I had told you I did not print--I feared you might think me ostensible. If I still entreat you to teach me, are you much displeased?
I will be patient--constant, never reject your knife and should my my [sic] slowness goad you, you knew before myself that
Except for the smaller size
No lives are round--
These--hurry to a sphere
And show and end--
The larger--slower grow
And later hang--
The summers of Hesperides
Are long.
Dickinson
[ENCLOSED: A draft of one poem--"A Death blow is a Life blow to some" (816) --as well as a clipping from the Springfield Weekly Republican of "The Snake," a version of her poem "A narrow Fellow in the Grass" (986) that a family friend had submitted to the newspaper without her consent.]
[NOTES: The poem within the main text of the letter is the full text of "Except for the smaller size" (1067). In the opening sentence Dickinson refers to herself; Johnson and Ward speculate that Higginson may have called Dickinson "elusive" in a previous letter, in addition to expressing a desire to see the poet. Although Dickinson's comments about the illegitimate publication of "The Snake" indicate her desire to preserve the original format of her poetry, Higginson would later modify the punctuation and capitalization of Dickinson's poems in the posthumous editions he edited with Mabel Loomis Todd.]
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(11)
June 9 1866
Dear friend
Please to thank the Lady. She is very gentle to care.
I must omit Boston. Father prefers so. He likes me to travel with him but objects that I visit.
Might I entrust you, as my Guest to the Amherst Inn? When I have seen you, to improve will be better pleasure because I shall know which are the mistakes.
Your opinion gives me a serious feeling. I would like to be what you deem me.
Thank you, I wish for Carlo.
Time is a test of trouble
But not a remedy--
If such it prove, it prove too
There was no malady.
See I have the Hill, my Gibraltar remnant.
Nature, seems it to myself, plays without a friend.
You mention Immortality.
That is the Flood subject. I was told that the Bank was the safest place for a Finless Mind. I explore but little since my mute Confederate, yet the "infinite Beauty"--of which you speak comes too near to seek.
To escape enchantment, one must always flee.
Paradise is of the option.
Whosoever will Own in Eden notwithstanding Adam and Repeal.
Dickinson
[ENCLOSED: Drafts of four poems--"Blazing in Gold and quenching in Purple" (228), "Ample make this Bed" (829),"To undertake is to achieve" (1070) and "As imperceptibly as Grief" (1540).]
[NOTES: The stanza quoted in the letter is the second stanza of Dickinson's poem "They say that 'Time assuages'" (686). Dickinson's refusal is in response to Higginson's second request for her to visit him in Boston; Higginson would eventually pay her a visit instead (see #14, #14A, and #14B below).]
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(12)
July 1867
Bringing still my "plea for Culture,"
Would it teach me now?
[ENCLOSED: A draft of one poem--"The Luxury to apprehend" (815). ]
[NOTES: Higginon's essay "A Plea for Culture" had appeared in the January 1867 issue of the Atlantic Monthly.]
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(13A)
May 11 1869
[From T.W. Higginson to Emily Dickinson ]
Sometimes I take out your letters & verses, dear friend, and when I feel their strange power, it is not strange that I find it hard to write & that long months pass. I have the greatest desire to see you, always feeling that perhaps if I could once take you by the hand I might be something to you; but till then you only enshroud yourself in this fiery mist & I cannot reach you, but only rejoice in the rare sparkles of light. Every year I think that I will contrive somehow to go to Amherst & see you: but that is hard, for I often am obliged to go away for lecturing, &c & rarely can go for pleasure. I would gladly go to Boston, at any praticable time, to meet you. I am always the same toward you, & never relax my interest in what you send to me. I should like to hear from you very often, but feel always timid lest what I write should be badly aimed & miss that fine edge of thought which you bear. It would be so easy, I fear, to miss you. Still, you see, I try. I think if I could once see you & know that you are real, I might fare better. It brought you nearer e[ven] to know that you had an actual [?] uncle, though I can hardly fancy [any?] two beings less alike than yo[u] [&?] him. But I have not seen him [for] several years, though I have seen [a lady] who once knew you, but could [not] tell me much.
It is hard [for me] to understand how you can live s[o alo]ne, with thoughts of such a [quali]ty coming up in you & even the companionship of your dog withdrawn. Yet it isolates one anywhere to think beyond a certain point or have such luminous flashes as come to you--so perhaps the place does not make much difference.
You must come down to Boston sometimes? All ladies do. I wonder if it would be possible to lure you [to] the meetings on the 3d Monday of every month at Mrs. [Sa]rgent's 13 Chestnut St. at 10 am--when somebody reads [a] paper & others talk or listen. Next Monday Mr. Emerson [rea]ds & then at 3 1/2 P.M. there is a meeting of the Woman's [Cl]ub at 3 Tremont Place, where I read a paper on the [Gre]ek goddesses. That would be a good time for you to come [alth]ough I should still rather have you come on some [da]y when I shall not be so much taken up--for my object is to see you, more than to entertain you. I shall be in Boston also during anniversary week, June 25* & 28,--or will the Musical Festival in June tempt you down. You see I am in earnest. Or don't you need sea air in summer. Write & tell me something in prose or verse, & I will be less fastidious in future & willing to write clumsy things, rather than none.
Ever your friend
[signature cut out]
*There is an extra meeting at Mrs. Sargent's that day & Mr. Weiss reads an essay. I have a right to invite you & you can merely ring & walk in.
[NOTES: This was Higginson's third invitation to Dickinson to visit with him in Boston. The woman mentioned at the end of the first paragraph is Helen Hunt (Jackson), an old schoolmate of Dickinson's; in an 1890 letter to Mabel Loomis Todd, Higginson reported that he had showed "H.H." some of Dickinson's poetry in 1866. Reverend John T. Sargent and his wife were prominent Bostonians who hosted literary meetings in their home; some of these meetings included meetings of the Boston "Radical Club"--which addressed issues such as women's sufferage and other social reforms, and which often featured Emerson as a guest speaker. The paper on Greek goddesses that Higginson refers to was presumably a draft version of the essay "The Greek Goddesses" that appeared in the July 1869 issue of the Atlantic Monthly (exerpts of the essay can be found here). Dickinson apparently cut out Higginson's signature from the latter to save it in a scrapbook, or perhaps to attach it to the photograph that Higginson later sent her (see #31 below).]
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(13)
June 1869
Dear friend
A Letter always feels to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend. Indebted in our talk to attitude and accent, there seems a spectral power in thought that walks alone--I would like to thank you for your great kindness but never try to lift the words which I cannot hold.
Should you come to Amherst, I might then succeed, though Gratitude is the timid wealth of those who have nothing. I am sure that you speak the truth, because the noble do, but your letters always surprise me. My life has been too simple and stern to embarass any.
"Seen of Angels" scarcely my responsibility
It is difficult not to be fictitious in so fair a place, but tests' sever repairs are permitted all.
When a little girl I remember hearing that remarkable passage and preferring the "Power," not knowing at the time that "Kingdom" and "Glory" were included.
You noticed my dwelling alone--To an Emigrant, Country is idle except it be his own. You speak kindly of seeing me. Could it please your convenience to come so far as Amherst I should be very glad, but I do not cross my Father's ground to any House or town.
Of our greatest acts we are ignorant--
You were not aware that you saved my Life. To thank you in person has been since then one of my few requests. The child that asks my flower "Will you," he says--"Will you"--and so to ask for what I want I know no other way.
You will excuse each that I say, because no one taught me?
Dickinson
[NOTES: No poems were enclosed with this letter. Dickinson's comment "You were not aware that you saved my Life" would be echoed ten years later in another short letter to Higginson (see # X below). Soon thereafter Higginson visited Dickinson in Amherst; the following letters and journal entries record his first visit to the poet.]
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(14)
August 16 1870
Dear friend
I will be at Home and glad.
I think you said the 15th. The incredible never surprises us, because it is the incredible.
E. Dickinson
[NOTES: No poems were enclosed with this letter. In response to a note from Higginson announcing his arrival in Amherst and asking if he might call on her, Dickinson sent this note to the house where he had arranged to stay during his visit. She had expected him to arrive the previous day. Shortly after his visit Higginson wrote the following two letters to his wife (#14A and #14B).]
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(14A)
August 16-17 1870
[From T.W. Higginson to Mary Channing Higginson]
I shan't sit up tonight to write you all about E.D. dearest but if you had read Mrs. Stoddard's novels you could understand a house where every member runs his or her own selves. Yet I only saw her.
A large county lawyer's house, brown brick, with great trees & a garden--I sent up my card. A parlor dark & cool & stiffish, a few books & engravings & an open piano--Malbone & ODD [Out Door] Papers among other books.
A step like a pattering child's in entry & in glided a little plain woman with two smooth bands of reddish hair & a face a little like Belle Dove's; not plainer--with no good feature--in a very plain & exquisitely clean white pique & a blue net worsted shawl. She came to me with two day lilies which she put in a sort of childlike way into my hand & said "These are my introduction" in a soft frightened breathless childlike voice--& added under her breath Forgive me if I am frightened; I never see strangers & hardly know what I say--but she talked soon & thenceforward continuously--& deferentially--sometimes stopping to ask me to talk instead of her--but readily recommencing. Manner between Angie Tilton & Mr. Alcott--but thoroughly ingenuous & simple which they are not & saying many things which you would have thought foolish & I wise--& some things you wd. hv. liked. I add a few over the page.
This is a lovely place, at least the view Hills everywhere, hardly mountains. I saw Dr. Stearns the Pres't of College--but the janitor cd. not be found to show me into the building I may try again tomorrow. I called on Mr. Banfield & saw her five children--She looks much like H.H. when ill & was very cordial & friendly. Goodnight darling I am very sleepy & do good to write you this much. Thine am I
I got here at 2 & leave at 9. E.D. dreamed all night of you (not me) & next day got my letter proposing to come here! She only knew of you through a mention in my notice of Charlotte Hawes.
"Women talk: men are silent: that is why I dread women
"My father only reads on Sunday--he reads lonley & rigorous books."
"If I read a book [and] it makes my whole body so cold no fire ever can warm me I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only way I know it. Is there any other way."
"How do most people live without any thoughts. There are many people in the world (you must have noticed them in the street) How do they live. How do they get strength to put on their clothes in the morning"
"When I lost the use of my Eyes it was a comfort to think there were so few real books that I could easily find some one to read me all of them"
"Truth is such a rare thing it is delightful to tell it."
"I find ecstasy in living--the mere sense of living is joy enough"
I asked if she never felt want of employment, never going off the place & never seeing any visitor "I never thought of conceiving that I could ever had the slightest approach to such a want in all future time" (& added) "I feel that I have not expressed myself strongly enough."
She makes all the bread for her father only likes hers & says "& people must have puddings" this very dreamily, as if they were comets--so she makes them.
[NOTES: Higginson made the following entry in his diary later the same evening: "To Amherst, arrived there at 2 Saw Prest Stearns, Mrs. Banfield & Miss Dickinson (twice) a remarkable experience, quite equalling my expectation. A pleasant country town, unspeakably quiet in the summer aftn." Soon afterward he wrote another letter to his wife as reproduced below.]
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(14B)
August 18 1870
[From T.W. Higginson to Mary Channing Higginson]
I am stopping for dinner at White River Junction, dearest, & in a few hours shall be at Littleton thence to go to Bethlehem. This morning at 9 I left Amherst & sent you a letter last night. I shall mail this at L. putting with it another sheet about E.D. that is in my valise.
She said to me at parting "Gratitude is the only secret that cannot reveal itself."
I talked with Prest Stearns of Amherst about her--& found him a very pleasant companion in the cars. Before leaving today, I got in to the Museums & enjoyed them much; saw a meteoric stone almost as long as my arm & weighing 436 lbs! a big slice of some other planet. It fell in Colorado. The collection of bird tracks of extinct birds in stone is very wonderful & unique & other good things. I saw Mr. Dickinson this morning a little--thin dry & speechless--I saw what her life has been. Dr. S. says her sister is proud of her.
I wd. have stolen a totty meteor, dear but they were under glass.
Mrs. Bullard I have just met in this train with spouse & son--I shall ride up with her.
Some pretty glimpses of mts. but all is dry and burnt I never saw the river at Brattleboro so low.
Did I say I staid at Sargents in Boston & she still hopes for Newport.
This picture of Mrs. Browning's tomb is from E.D. "Timothy Titcomb" [Dr. Holland] gave it to her.
I think I will mail this here as I hv. found time to write so much. I miss you little woman & wish you were here but you'd hate travelling.
Ever
[ENCLOSED: The "sheet about E.D.," as reproduced below.]
E D again
"Could you tell me what home is"
"I never had a mother. I suppose a mother is one to whom you hurry when you are troubled."
"I never knew how to tell time by the clock till I was 15. My father thought he had taught me but I did not understand & was afraid to say I did not & afraid to ask any one else lest he should know."
Her father was not severe I should think but remote. He did not wish them to read anything but the Bible. One day her brother brought home Kavanagh hid it under the piano cover & made signs to her & they read it: her father at last found it & was displeased. Perhaps it was before this that a student of his was amazed that they had never heard of Mrs. [Lydia Maria] Child & used to bring them books & hide in a bush by the door. They were then little things in short dresses with their feet on the rungs of the chair. After the first book she thought in ecstasy "This then is a book! And there are more of them!"
"Is it oblivion or absorption when things pass from our minds?"
Major Hunt interested her more than any man she ever saw. She remembered two things he said--that her great dog "understood gravitation" & when he said he should come again "in a year. If I say a shorter time it will be longer."
When I said I would come again some time she said "Say in a long time, that will be nearer. Some time is nothing."
After long disuse of her eyes she read Shakespeare & thought why is any other book needed.
I never was with any one who drained my nerve power so much. Without touching her, she drew from me. I am glad not to live near her. She often thought me tired & seemed very thoughtful of others.
[NOTES: Shortly after his visit Higginson also included a postscript to a letter addressed to his sisters: "Of course I hv. enjoyed my trip very very much. In Amherst I had a nice aftn & evng with my singular poetic correspondent & the remarkable cabinets of the College." Twenty years later Higginson would write the following comments in his 1891 article for the Atlantic Monthly:]
The impression undoubtedly made on me was that of an excess of tension, and of an abnormal life. Perhaps in time I could have got beyond the somewhat overstrained relation which not my will, but her needs, had forced upon us. Certainly I should have been most glad to bring it down to the level of simple truth and every-day comradeship; but it was not altogether easy. She was much too enigmatical a being for me to solve in an hour's interview, and an insticnt told me that the slightest attempt at direct cross-examination would make her withdraw into her shell; I could only sit and watch, as one does in the woods; I must name my bird without a gun, as recommended by Emerson. ("Emily Dickinson's Letters," 453)
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(15)
September 26 1870
Enough is so vast a sweetness I suppose it never occurs--only pathetic counterfeits--Fabulous to me as the men of the Revelations who "shall not hunger any more." Even the Possible has it's insoluble particle.
After you went, I took Macbeth and turned to "Birnam Wood." Came twice to "Dunsinane"--I thought and went about my work.
I remember your coming as serious sweetness placed now with the Unreal--
Trust adjusts her "Peradventure"--
Phantoms entered "and not you."
The Vein cannot thank the Artery--but her solemn indebtedness to him, even the stolidest admit and so of me who try, whose effort leaves no sound.
You ask great questions accidentally. To answer them would be events. I trust that you are safe.
I ask you to forgive me for all the ignorance I had.
I find no nomination so sweet as your low opinion.
Speak, if but to blame your obedient child. You told me of Mrs. Lowell's poems.
Would you tell me where I could find them, or are they not for sight?
An article of your's, too, perhaps only the one you wrote that I never knew. It was about a "Latch."
Are you willing to tell me? If I ask too much, you could please refuse--Shortness to live has made me bold.
Abroad is close to-night and I have but to lift my hands to touch the "Heights of Abraham."
Dickinson
[NOTES: No extra poems were enclosed with this letter. In the first paragraph Dickinson quotes Revelation 7:16: "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat." The allusion to Birnam Wood and Dunsinane Castle in Shakespeare's Macbeth appears to be Dickinson's euphemistic way of referring to the possibility of a second visit from Higginson; in the play Macbeth receives a prophecy--"Fear not, 'till Birnam Wood/ Do come to Dunsinane" (V.v)--and (falsely) believes that he will remain safe since forests cannot move. The short poem within the main text of the letter is the entire text of "Trust adjusts her 'Peradventure'--" (1161). Maria White Lowell was the wife of prominent American poet James Russell Lowell; her collected poems (cf. "Rouen: Place de la Pucelle," "Song," "The Morning-Glory") were published posthumously in 1855. The Higginson article Dickinson asks about may be either "The Door Unlatched" (published simulaneously in The Women's Journal and The Springfield Republican, January 15 1870) or "The Gate Unlatched" (published in The Women's Journal, July 9 1870). Both articles addressed the topic of women's rights; see also Higginson's "Woman and Her Wishes," published in 1853. The "Heights of Abraham" is an allusion to Mount Moriah, where Abraham was asked by God to sacrifice his son, and where King Solomon's Temple was later built.]
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(16)
About October 1870
The Riddle that we guess
We speedily despise--
Not anything is stale so long
As Yesterday's Surprise--
The Risks of Immortality are perhaps its' charm--A secure Delight suffers in enchantment--
The larger Haunted House it seems, of maturer Childhood--distant, an alarm--entered intimate at least as a neighbor's Cottage--
The Spirit said unto the Dust
Old Friend, thou knewest me
And Time went out to tell the news
Unto Eternity--
Those of that renown personally precious, harrow like a Sunset, proved but not obtained--
Tennyson knew this, "Ah Christ--if it be possible" and even in Our Lord's ["]that they be with me where I am," I taste interrogation.
Experiment escorts us last--
His pungent company
Will not allow an Axiom
An Opportunity--
You speak of "tameless tastes"--A Beggar came last week--I gave him Food and Fire and as he went, "Where do you go,"
"In all the directions"--
That was what you meant
Too happy Time dissolves itself
And leaves no remnant by--
'Tis Anguish not a Feather hath
Or too much weight to fly--
I was much refreshed by your strong Letter--
Thank you for Greatness--I will have deserved it in a longer time!
I thought I spoke to you of the shadow--
It affects me--
This was still another--
I saw it's notice in the Papers just before you came--Is there magazinine [sic] called the "Woman's Journal"? I think it was said to be in that--a Gate, or Door, or Latch--
Someone called me suddenly, and I never found it--
You told me Mrs Lowell was Mr Lowell's "inspiration." What is inspiration?
You place the truth in opposite--because the fear is mine, dear friend, and the power your's--
'Tis Glory's far sufficiency /overtakelessness
that make's our trying /running poor--
With the Kingdom of Heaven on his knee, could Mr. Emerson hesitate?
"Suffer little Children"--
Could you not come without the Lecture, if the project failed?
[NOTES: This fragmented text appears to be the rough draft of a letter that Dickinson never sent Higginson; Johnson and Ward note that no fair copy of the letter exists in Higginson's letters. Johnson and Ward also describe the poems/poem fragments in the letter as a condensation of the thoughts that followed Dickinson's conversation with Higginson in August. Within the main text of the letter Dickinson includes the full text of "The Riddle that we guess" (1222), the final stanza of "I heard, as if I had no Ear" (1039), the full text of "Experiment escorts us last" (1770), the full text of "Too happy Time dissolves itself" (1774), and rough sketches of the final two lines of "Because He loves Her" (1229). The brief Lord Tennyson paraphrase is from his long poem Maud; A Monodrama: "Ah Christ, that it were possible/ For one short hour to see/ The souls that we loved, that they might tell us/ What and where they be" (2.153-2.156); in the same sentence Dickinson also alludes to Jesus's prayer in John 17:24: "Father, I will that they also, whom thou has given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thout has given me: for thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world." Higginson evidently had suggested that "The Shadow" (published as a separate essay in the Atlantic Monthly, July 1870) was the essay Dickinson asked about in her previous letter (#15); Dickinson indicates that she has read the essay, but had another one in mind in her query. For "Mr Lowell" and "Mrs Lowell," see notes to #15 above. Near the end of the letter Dickinson alludes to Luke 18:16: "But Jesus called them unto him, and said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God."]
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(17)
November 1871
I did not read Mr. Miller because I could not care about him--
Transport is not urged--
Mrs. Hunt's Poems are stronger than any written by Women since Mrs--Browning, with the exception of Mrs Lewes--but truth like Ancestor's Brocades can stand alone--You speak of "Men and Women." That is a broad Book--"Bells and Pomegranates" I never saw but have Mrs Browning's endorsement. While Shakespeare remains Literature is firm--
An Insect cannot run away with Achilles's head. Thank you for having written the "Atlantic Essays." They are a fine Joy--though to possess the ingredient for Congratulation renders congratulation superfluous.
Dear friend, I trust you as you ask--If I exceed permission, excuse the bleak simplicity that knew no tutor but the North. Would you but guide
Dickinson
[ENCLOSED: Drafts of four poems--"When I hoped I feared" (1181), "The Days that we can spare" (1184), "Step lightly on this narrow spot" (1183), and "Remembrance has a Rear and a Front" (1182). ]
[NOTES: "Mr. Miller" is Joaquin Miller, the "Poet of the Sierras" whose collection of poems Song of the Sierras appeared in 1871. "Mrs. Hunt" is Dickinson's old schoomate Helen Hunt (Jackson), whose Verses had appeared in 1870; see also notes to #13A. For "Mrs Browning," see notes to #2. "Mrs Lewes" refers to British novelist George Eliot, who also wrote poetry; the reference to "Ancestor's Brocades" alludes to a passage from Eliot's novel The Mill on the Floss: "Mrs. Glegg...had inherited from her grandmother...a brocaded gown that would stand up empty, like a suit of armour..." Men and Women and Bells and Pomegranates were books of poetry by Robert Browning; see also notes to #2. Higginson's Atlantic Essays were published in September 1871.]
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(18)
March 1872
Dear friend--
I am sorry your brother is dead.
I fear he was dear to you.
I should be glad to know you were painlessly grieved--
Of Heaven above the firmest proof
We fundamental know--
Except for it's marauding Hand
It had been Heaven below.
Dickinson
[NOTES: No additional poems were enclosed with this letter. The stanza within the letter is the second stanza of "Immortal is an ample word" (1205). Dickinson refers to the death of Higginson's brother Dr. Francis John Higginson, whose obituary had appeared in the Springfield Republican on March 9, 1872.]
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(19)
late 1872
To live is so startling, it leaves but little room for other occupations though Friends are if possible an event more fair.
I am happy you have the Travel you so long desire and chastened--that my Master met neither accident nor Death.
Our own Possessions though our own
'Tis well to hoard anew
Remembering the dimensions
Of Possibility.
I often saw your name in illustrious mention and envied an occasion so abstinent to me. Thank you for having been to Amherst. Could you come again that would be far better--though the finest wish is the futile one.
When I saw you last, it was Mighty Summer--Now the Grass is Glass and the Meadow Stucco, and "Still Waters" in the Pool where the Frog drinks.
These Behaviors of the Year hurt almost like Music--shifting when it ease us most. Thank you for the "Lesson."
I will study it though hitherto
Menagerie to me
My Neighbor be.
Your Scholar
[ENCLOSED: Drafts of three poems--"To disappear enhances" (1209), "He preached upon 'Breadth' till it argued him narrow " (1207), and "The Sea said 'Come' to the Brook" (1210). The first poem quoted in the letter is the entire text of "Our own posessions--though our own--" (1208).]
[NOTES: The two lines at the end of the letter come from "The Show is not the Show" (1206). Dickinson alludes to Higginson's trip to Europe in April 1872, and to the frequent references to Higginson in the Atlantic Monthly during this time.]
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(20)
About 1873
Could you teach me now?
----------
Will you instruct me then no more?
[ENCLOSED: Drafts of three poems: "Not any higher stands the grave" (1256), "Longing is like the Seed" (1255), and "Dominion lasts until obtained" (1257).]
[NOTES: These are two separate notes that appear to have been written at about the same time; Johnson speculates that the first note had the enclosed poems, whereas the second note was sent when Dickinson had not received a response from Higginson.]
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(21A)
December 31 1873
[From T. W. Higginson to Emily Dickinson]
This note shall go as a New Year's gift & assure you that you are not forgotten. I am glad to remember my visit to Amherst, & especially the time spent with you. It seemed to give you some happiness, and I hope it did;--certainly I enjoyed being with you. Each time we seem to come together as old & tried friends; and I certainly feel that I have known you long & well, through the beautiful thoughts and words you have sent me. I hope you will not cease to trust me and turn to me; and I will try to speak the truth to you, and with love.
Today is perfectly beautiful, all snow & azure--our snow is apt to be dingy, but today the Amherst hills can hardly be whiter. Such days ought to give us strength to go by all the storms & eclipses unmoved. Your poem about the storm is fine--it gives the sudden transitions. While there is anything so sudden in the world as lightning, no event among men can seem anything but slow.
I wish you could see some field lillies, yellow & scarlet, painted in water colors that are just sent to us for Christmas. These are not your favorite colors, & perhaps I love the azure & gold myself--but perhaps we should learn to love & cultivate these ruddy hues of life. Do you remember Mrs. Julia Howe's poem "I stake my life upon the red."
Pray read the enlarged edition of Verses by H.H.--the new poems are so beautiful. She is in Colorado this winter, & enjoys the out-door climate.
I am always glad to hear from you, and hope that your New Year may be very happy.
Your friend
T.W. Higginson
[NOTES: On December 3 1873 Higginson had been invited to lecture in Amherst, and during his visit he apparently called on Dickinson a second time (his last visit to her in person). Shortly after his return from Amherst he wrote to his sisters: "I saw my eccentric poetess Miss Emily Dickinson who never goes outside her father's grounds & sees only me & a few others. She says, 'there is always one thing to be grateful for--that one is one's self & not somebody else' but [my wife] Mary thinks this is singularly out of place in E.D.'s case. She (E.D.) glided in, in white, bearing a Daphne odora for me, & said under her breath 'How long are you going to stay.' I'm afraid Mary's other remark 'Oh why do the insane so cling to you?' still holds. I will read you some of her poems when you come." Despite Higginson's remarks in the letter to his sisters, he is the one who resumed correspondence with Dickinson after his visit to Amherst, as the above letter indicates. The "poem about the storm" Higginson refers to is "The Wind begun to rock the Grass" (824), which Dickinson had probably given to Higginson when he had visited her that month. For "H.H.," see notes to #12 above. Julia Ward Howe is best known for having written the lyrics to "The Battle Hymn of the Republic"; the Howe poem Higginson refers to is "Rouge Gagne."]
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(21)
January 1874
Thank you, dear friend, for my "New Year;" but did you not confer it? Had your scholar permission to fashion your's, it were perhaps too fair. I always ran Home to Awe when a child, if anything befell me.
He was an awful Mother, but I liked him better than none. There remained this shelter after you left me the other Day.
Of your flitting Coming it is fair to think.
Like the Bee's Coupe--vanishing in Music.
Would you with the bee return, what a Firm of Noon!
Death obtains the Rose, but the News of Dying goes no further than the breeze. The Ear is the last Face.
We hear after we see.
Which to tell you first is still my Dismay.
Meeting a bird this morning, I began to flee. He saw it and sung.
Presuming on that lone result
His infinite Disdain
But vanquished with him with my Defeat--
'Twas Victory was slain.
I shall read the Book.
Thank you for telling me.
"Field Lilies" are Cleopatra's "Posies."
I was re-reading "Oldport."
Largest last, like Nature.
Was it you that came?
A Wind that woke a lone Delight
Like Separation's Swell--
Restored in Arctic confidence
To the Invisible.
Your Scholar--
[ENCLOSED: A draft of one poem--"Because that you are going" (1260). ]
[NOTES: The first stanza within the letter is the second stanza of "The Stars are old, that stood for me--" (1249); the second stanza consists of the final lines of "A Wind that rose" (1259).]
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(22)
May 1874
I thought that being a Poem one's self precluded the writing Poems, but perceive the Mistake. It seemed like going Home, to see your beautiful thought once more, now so long forbade it--Is it Intellect that the Patriot means when he speaks of his "Native Land"? I should have feared to "quote" to you what you "most valued."
You have experienced sanctity.
It is to me untried.
Of life to own--
From Life to draw--
But never touch the Reservoir--
You kindly ask for my Blossoms and Books--I have read but a little recently--Existence has overpowered Books. Today, I slew a Mushroom--
I felt as if the Grass was pleased
To have it intermit.
This Surreptitious Scion
Of Summer's circumspect.
The broadest words are so narrow we can easily cross them--but there is water deeper than those which has no Bridge. My Brother and Sisters would love to see you. Twice, you have gone--Master--
Would you but once come--
[NOTES: No additional poems were enclosed with this letter. The first passage within the letter is the entire text of Dickinson's short poem "Of Life to own--" (1294); the second passage consists of the fourth stanza of "The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants" (1298).]
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(23)
July 1874
The last Afternoon that my Father lived, though with no premonition--I preferred to be with him, and invented an absence for Mother, Vinnie being asleep. He seemed particularly pleased as I oftenest stayed with myself, and remarked as the Afternoon withdrew, he "would like it to not end."
His pleasure almost embarassed me and my Brother coming--I suggested they walk. Next morning I woke him for the train--and saw him no more.
His Heart was pure and terrible and I think no other like it exists.
I am glad there is Immortality--but would have tested it myself--before intrusting him.
Mr. Bowles was with us--With that exception, I saw none. I have wished for you, since my Father died, and had you an Hour unengrossed, it would be almost priceless. Thank you for each kindness.
My Brother and Sister thank you for remembering them.
Your beautiful Hymn, was it not prophetic? It has assisted that Pause of Space which I call "Father."
[NOTES: No additional poems were enclosed with this letter. The "beautiful Hymn" that Dickinson refers to is Higginson's poem "Decoration," a Memorial Day poem which had appeared in the June 1874 issue of Scribner's Monthly. ]
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(24)
June 1875
Dear friend--,
Mother was paralyzed Tuesday, a year from the evening Father died. I thought perhaps you would care.
Your Scholar.
[NOTES: No additional poems were enclosed with this letter.]
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(25)
July 1875
Dear friend.
Mother was very ill, but is now easier, and the Doctor thinks that in more Days she may partly improve. She was ignorant at the time and her Hand and Foot left her, and when she asks me the name of her sickness--I deceive for the first time. She asks for my Father, constantly, and thinks it rude he does not come--begging me not to retire at night, lest no one receive him. I am pleased that what grieves ourself so much--can no more grieve him. To have been immortal transcends to become so. Thank you for being sorry.
I thought it value to hear your voice, though at so great distance--Home is far from Home, since my Father died.
The courtesy to my Brother and Sisters I gave and replace, and think those safe who see your Face.
Your Scholar.
[NOTES: No poems were enclosed with this letter. This note responds to a note of sympathy that Higginson had sent shorly after receiving Dickinson's note (#24) above.]
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(26)
January 1876
That it is true, Master, is the Power of all you write.
Could it cease to be Romance, it would be Revelation, which is the Seed--of Romance--
I had read "Childhood," with compunction that thought so fair--fall on foreign eyes--
I had also read fervent notices of itself and you. There is nothing sweeter than Honor, but Love, which is it's sacred price.
I hope most you are happy, and that none closest to you, have received sorrow--
Could "Liquid Hills" be steep?
The last Books that my Father brought me I have felt unwilling to open, and had reserved them for you, because he had twice seen you. They are Theodore Parker, by Frothingham, and George Eliot's Poems. If you have them, please tell me--If not, you will not forbid mine?
Mr. Bowles lent me flowers twice, for my Father's Grave.
To his simplicity
To die--was little Fate--
If Duty live--contented--
But her Confederate--
Your Scholar
[ENCLOSED: Drafts of five poems--"The last of Summer is Delight" (1353), "The Heart is the Capital of the Mind" (1354), "The Mind lives on the Heart" (1355), "The Rat is the concisest Tenant" (1356), and one version of "'Faithful to the end' Amended" (1357).]
[NOTES: The poem within the letter is the entire text of Dickinson's short poem "To his simplicty" (1352). Higginson's "Childhood Fancies" appeared in the January 1876 issue of Scribner's Monthly. Frothingham's Theodore Parker and George Eliot's The Legend of Jubal and Other Poems were both published in 1874. Dickinson offers to send them to Higginson in this letter, although from the next letter it appears that he already had a copy of the Frothingham book.]
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(27)
February 1876
There is so much that is tenderly profane in even the sacredest Human Life--that perhaps it is instinct and not design, that dissuades us from it.
The Treason of an accent
Might Ecstasy transfer--
Of her effacing Fathom
Is no Recoverer--
It makes me happy to send you the Book. Thank you for accepting it, and please not to own "Daniel Deronda" till I bring it, when it is done. You ask me if I see any one--Judge Lord was with me a week in October and I talked with Father's Clergyman once, and once with Mr Bowles. Little--wayfaring acts--comprise my "pursuits"--and a few moments at night, for Books--after the rest sleep. Candor--my Preceptor--is the only wile. Did you not teach me that yourself, in the "Prelude" to "Malbone"? You once told me of "printing but a few Poems." I hoped it implied you possessed more--
Would you show me--one? You asked me if I liked the cold--but it is warm now. A mellow Rain is falling.
It wont be ripe till April--How luscious is the dripping of February eaves! It makes our thinking Pink--
It antedates the Robin--Bereaving in prospective that February leaves--
Thank you for speaking kindly.
I often go Home in thought to you.
Your Scholar--
[NOTES: No extra poems were enclosed with this letter. The poem within the letter is the full text of one version of "The Treason of an accent" (1358). George Eliot's novel Daniel Deronda began appearing in serial installments in the March issue of Harper's Monthly; Dickinson had apparently seen an announcement of its upcoming publication in book form later that year. Dickinson's aphorism "Candor is the only wile" is her rephrasing of a passage that had appeared in the prelude to Higginson's 1869 novel Malbone: An Oldport Romance: "One learns, in growing older, that no fiction can be so strange nor appear so improbable as would the simple truth..."]
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(28)
Spring 1876
But two had mentioned the "Spring" to me--yourself and the Revelations. "I--Jesus--have sent mine Angel."
I inferred your touch in the Papers on Lowell and Emerson--It is delicate that each Mind is itself, like a distinct bird--
I was lonely there was an "Or" in that beautiful "I would go to Amherst," though grieved for it's cause. I wish your friend had my strength for I dont care for roving--she perhaps might, though to remain with you is Journey-- To abstain from "Daniel Deronda" is hard--you are very kind to be willing. I would like to wait, but "Sue" smuggled it under my Pillow, and to wake so near it overpowered me--I am glad "Immortality" pleased you. I believed it would. I suppose even God himself could not withold that now--When I think of my father's lonely Life and lonelier Death, there is this redress--
Take all away--
The only thing worth larceny
Is left--the Immortality--
My earliest frend wrote me the week before he died, "If I live, I will go to Amherst--if I die, I certainly will."
Is your House deeper off?
Your Scholar
[NOTES: No extra poems were enclosed with this letter. The lines within the main text of the letter are the entire text of "Take all away--" (1365). Dickinson had seen an unsigned review of Robert Lowell's Among My Books: Second Series in the March 1876 issue of Scribner's Monthly and correctly attributes it to Higginson in this letter; an unsigned review of Emerson's Letters and Social Aims had appeared in the April issue of the same magazine, but it has not been confirmed to be written by Higginson. The "friend" referred to is Higginson's wife, who had become increasingly ill. In his response to #27 above Higginson had said that he would not read Daniel Deronda until he received the copy Dickinson planned to send him. Johnson speculates that the comment on "Immortality" may refer to the poem "'Faithful to the end' Amended" (1357), which she had sent to him previously in #26 above. The quotation in the first paragraph is from Revelation 22:16: "I Jesus have sent mine angel to testify unto you these things in the churches. I am the root and the offspring of David, and the bright and morning star."]
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(29)
Spring 1876
Dear friend.
Your thought is so serious and captivating, that it leaves one stronger and weaker too, the Fine of Delight.
Of it's Bliss to yourself, we are ignorant, though you first teach us "that which is born of the Spirit is Spirit"--
It is still as distinct as Paradise--the opening your first Book--
It was Mansions--Nations--Kinsmen--too--to me--
I sued the News--yet feared--the News
That such a Realm could be--
"The House not made with Hands" it was--
Thrown open wide to me--
I had long heard of an Orchis before I found one, when a child, but the first clutch of the stem is as vivid now, as the Bog that bore it--so truthful is transport--Though inaudible to you, I have long thanked you.
Silence'[s] oblation to the ear supersedes sound--
Sweetest of Renowns to remain
Your Scholar--
Is your friend better?
And yourself, well?
[NOTES: No extra poems were enclosed with this letter. The poem within the letter is the entire text of the short poem "I sued the News--yet feared--the News" (1360); the poem itself contains a quotation from 2 Corinthians 5:1: "For we know that if the earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." Higginson's first published book was Outdoor Papers (1863), which contained his nature essays "April Days," "My Outdoor Study," "Water Lilies," "The Life of Birds," and "The Procession of Flowers." In the second sentence of the letter Dickinson quotes John 3:6: "That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the spirit is spirit."]
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(30)
Spring 1876
I am glad to have been of joy to your friend, even incidentally, and greedy for the supplement of so sweet a privilege. I hope that you had a happy trip, and became refreshed. Labor might fatigue, though it is Action's rest.
The things we thought that we should do
We other things have done
But those peculiar industries
Have never been begun--
The Lands we thought that we should seek
When large enough to run
By Speculation ceded
To Speculation's Son--
The Heaven, in which we hoped to pause
When Discipline was done
Untenable to Logic
But possibly the one--
I am glad you remember "Meadow Grass."
That forestalls fiction.
I was always told that conjecture surpassed Discovery, but it must have spoken in caricature, for it is not true--
The long sigh of the Frog
Upon a Summer's Day
Enacts intoxication
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