“A dream of man and woman, Diviner, but still human, Solving the riddle old, Shaping the Age of Gold! “The love of God and neighbor; An equal-handed labour; The richer life, where beauty Walks hand in hand with duty.” XXIV “A dream to me alone is Arno’s vale,” writes Whittier in his “Last Walk in Autumn.” Yet those who know say that his pen pictures of Italy are perfect. He is a consolation and an inspiration to them upon whom life’s limitations press. Judging by his reading, the world of books was indeed his world. Books alone were never his world, however; he chose “living guests who love the day;” and he had them. For from East and West men and women of thought and power and accomplishment came to him who could not go to them. And not even personal presence or telegraph or telephone did he require to draw about himself a network of communication with the best and most interesting of the world’s thinkers and workers. In all parts beyond his sight, he knew them by letter and message. Through travelers and books the world of his picturing was not far from the real world. But especially did he perceive it through that imagination which saw “The marble palaces of Ind Rise round him in the snow and wind.” One day there came to visit him at Oak Knoll a widely traveled man. Whittier talked with him concerning the many nations and races his guest had seen; for his last experiences had been among the Asiatics. The poet with deepest interest questioned him of the aim and character in its broadest lines of those he had known. As the two talked, one broadened by travel and personal intercourse with many peoples, the other by power of intellect and especially by love of God and of men, differences of race and creed and nationality fell away from the eyes of both, like the calyx from the opening flower. They saw that in the hearts of all men bloomed deathless humanity, making the men of the East at one in all essentials with men in Massachusetts, or anywhere else--that invincible humanity oversweeping all minor differences. As Whittier relating the conversation to the writer, repeated this testimony, he gave it great weight, as another evidence of the oneness of all human beings, and of that brotherhood which one day is to be realized by us. * * * * * He was deeply interested in the poem which he sent Dr. Bowditch, that Eastern poem of Edwin Arnold’s, beginning, “He who died at Azan sends This to comfort all his friends,” to comfort them with the voice of one who having passed beyond this life, finds himself still dwelling in life--not in death. * * * * * “When I come to Amesbury,” said Whittier in one of his letters, “I shall bring some books for the Library” [the Amesbury Public Library].