Catharine Maria Sedgwick to Eliza Cabot Follen Transcribed by Alyssa CarrizalesTranscribed on Primary Source Cooperative2024

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CMSOLPatricia Kalayjian, Lucinda Damon-Bach, Deborah Gussman 20 Oct 1823sedgwick-catharine follen-eliza Catharine Maria Sedgwick to Eliza Cabot Follen Massachusetts Historical Society Catharine Maria Sedgwick Papers I

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1Stockbridge 20' October -- 1823 -- -- -- --

This is meagre intercourse that you and I keep up dearest Eliza -- a letter once in five or six weeks -- hardly a day passes without some occurrence illegible or some word that brings you to my mind, so as to make my heart spring -- -- I have associated you with all the affecting appearances of nature; with the sober moral autumn, as well as with illegible the youth and prosperity of Summer -- -- I cannot look upon our little stream whose whole course thro' the meadows we see from our windows, now that its leafy veil has fallen, without wishing that your eloquent eye rested on it too -- -- How is it that the emotions which are produced by looking on natural scenery, always illegible touch the spring of our affections -- Is not the chord that binds us to the children more closely drawn when we feel the presence of the Father in the power and benignity of his visible creations -- I am no metaphaphysician, I cannot explore the cause illegible nor investigate the process -- but I feel the effect -- I know that the sweet sounds and sights of nature fill my imagination and my heart with those I love most tenderly, and with whom I have the strongest sympathy -- 2

I lament every day that you and I dearest Eliza are destined to live so much & so far apart -- I am half tempted to wish that I was a man and could go a courting to you, and then I should be horribly afraid you would not have me -- -- However I don’t know but being a man would save me from any such apprehension, the sex are certainly remarkably exempt from illegible this species of cowardice -- But then you might have some prepossession and then I should wish myself back into my petticoats, and count it a privilege that I might love you and think of you as I do now -- --

Your last letter breathed the spirit of this season -- the spirit of resignation and of faith -- I cannot with such dutiful patience give up the beautiful summer -- the fall seems to me good, as it is good to go to the house of mourning -- very salutary but very painful -- I cannot bear to see these beautiful trees stripped of their honors so rudely, and the white frost spreading its icy fingers over the green hills and meadows where the dew drops have glittered in the morning beam -- -- and the “Ice Spirit” casting its dark shadow over our little river and stilling its “heart touching song” 1 -- but it must be and we too must pass to this decay and death -- but the analogy fails here 3 with us the form of life changes; for in spite of the materialist I will beleive that thought and affection are not suspended -- -- -- that this busy spirit is not stilled but released, and the dim and fearful light of earth is even today exchanged for the joy of paradise -- -- The arguments for materialism have sometimes urged themselves almost irresistibly upon my beleif -- and I have feared that in my aversion to them there was something of the pride of self consequence -- But I do not think that in relation to ourselves we have any fear of illegible this long dreamless night -- life is so active within us, that the beleif in its uninterrupted continuance is instinctive It is in relation to those beloved ones who have gone from us that our hearts misgive us --, and we cannot bear to beleive that the feeling we have of their present existence, almost as strong as the consciousness of our own is all a delusive imagination --

I had written thus far when I was interrupted and the bright sun and genial air of this most beautiful morning have chased away all dark thoughts -- -- Thank you dearest E for always remembering my sweet little Kitty -- she is a most engaging little chatterbox. I don’t know whether it is that she knows how to strike the keys to my heart, but she rings all the changes on your name and the other day while she was sitting in my lap, she turned round and putting her arms around my neck “I wish Aunt Kitty” she said “you 4 was Eliza Cabot” -- I took it as a monition to be more like Eliza Cabot -- Elizabeth has gone with her boy to NY -- so that I have at present the entire possession of her -- --

Next to hearing Dr C dear E is the pleasure of hearing him through you -- -- It is delightful that he has come home with renewed strength and vigour in the christian cause -- There seems as much danger nowaways illegible that the piety will be chilled by the voyage to Europe as there was hope in other times that it might kindle amidst the ‘ruins of Iona’ 2 --

Do you not regret the transfer of the NA? and are you not offended with Mr S 3 has a man a right after having devoted himself to the holy office, and especially after eminent success to withdraw to a secular pursuit -- no “once a bishop, always a bishop” --

What are you all doing in Boston? -- how is Mrs Channing -- is her daughter S going to NY for the Winter? -- how is your sister S? -- Has Mr G gone again to Baltimore? -- What are you going to do this winter -- Let me know dearest E your pursuits -- your pleasures -- your trials -- Let us as far as we can compensate for this far distance between us -- --

Have you seen Bryant's ode -- and is it not most beautiful? -- -- accept dear the true and hearty love of all mine -- and distribute mine to as many of yours as will take it

Yours as everCMS

Miss Kitty has taken the liberty to decorate my letter with her hieroglyphics -- perhaps you can decypher them --

Letter

Massachusetts Historical Society

Catharine Maria Sedgwick Papers I

Wax blot and tear; PS is cross-written in the right margin of page 2.

Miss Eliza L Cabot/No 1 Mount Vernon/Boston

1823 is written in the upper right hand corner of page 1.

A reference to Eliza Cabot Follen's poem, "The Ice Spirit."

The Scottish island of Iona is one of the oldest centers of Christianity in Western Europe. Sedgwick is referring to Samuel Johnson's A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland (1775), in which he observed, "That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Iona! "

A reference to the North American Review and Jared Sparks, who retired from his Unitarian ministry and became the magazine's editor in 1823.

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