WHIGS back in 1600-1700s brought back the DEMOCRATIC IDEAL of PUBLIC SPACE---PUBLIC SQUARE----PUBLIC COMMUNITY CENTER having disappeared from the time of ANCIENT GREECE.
'The Whigs played a central role in the Glorious Revolution of 1688'
The migration of immigrants to America colonizing to individual states brought again this ideal of WHIGS seeing themselves as the new America -----upper class but they supported this ideal of I AM MAN AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT and every US citizen was invited to participate in what was that PUBLIC SQUARE----equity through opportunity and access was seen as a DEMOCRATIC value by early US WHIGS----like EMILY DICKINSON. Those US WHIGS like those 1600s OLD WORLD NOBLES fighting against ABSOLUTE MONARCHY----did not like EMPIRE ALICE no matter if CATHOLIC OR PROTESTANT. As we always say----KINGS AND QUEENS are not religious---they simply use religion to gain power and wealth.
Below, this makes the WHIGS sound ANTI-CATHOLIC rather then ANTI-ABSOLUTE MONARCHY----these are different terms.
'The Whigs were a political faction and then a political party in the parliaments of England, Scotland, Great Britain, Ireland and the United Kingdom. Between the 1680s and 1850s, they contested power with their rivals, the Tories. The Whigs' origin lay in constitutional monarchism and opposition to absolute monarchy. The Whigs played a central role in the Glorious Revolution of 1688 and were the standing enemies of the Stuart kings and pretenders, who were Roman Catholic'.
Thinking who is US and THEM we always say this: these ties to OLD WORLD KINGS during today's period of MOVING FORWARD ending MAGNA CARTA with goal of bringing back ABSOLUTE MONARCHY in Western Europe-----and NORTH AND SOUTH AMERICA-----does not end well for EVEN THE WHIGS thinking they are NOBLES----upper class.....BOSTON BRAHMIN.
ANCIENT GREEK IDEAL OF DEMOCRATIC PUBLIC SPACE---PUBLIC SQUARE FOR WHAT WAS 'BOSTON BRAHMIN' WOULD NOT EXIST IF NOT FOR MAGNA CARTA.
ENDING OF ABSOLUTE MONARCHY WAS REQUIRED IN ORDER TO BRING BACK WHIGS/TORIES AND ANYONE NOT MONARCHY HAVING POWER AND CITIZENS' RIGHTS.
Shorter Elaboration (followed by a more extended discussion here)
[¶2] "Whig" and "Tory" are political party labels that have been in use in England since around 1681--and their specific meaning has varied somewhat with changing historical circumstances. As political labels, the terms derive from the factional conflict of the Exclusion Crisis (1679-81), Whigs being supporters of Exclusion (of the Catholic James, Duke of York, brother of the king and next in line for the English throne) and Tories being their Royalist opponents.
BOSTON STRONG as BALTIMORE STRONG is a FAKE corrupted term making those WHIGS or former NOBLES feel MAGNA CARTA is not going away bringing ABSOLUTE MONARCHY.
Below we see who today's ROBBER BARON 5% freemason/Greek players/pols black, white, and brown are------like we say MOVING FORWARD they will be UNDER THE BUS as goal and FINAL SOLUTION is return to ABSOLUTE MONARCHY----bye, bye MAGNA CARTA.
'The Boston Brahmins or Boston elite are members of Boston's traditional upper class. They form an integral part of the historic core of the East Coast establishment, along with other wealthy families of Philadelphia and New York City. They are often associated[by whom?] with the distinctive Boston Brahmin accent, Harvard University, Anglicanism and traditional Anglo-American customs and clothing. Descendants of the earliest English colonists, such as those who came to America on the Mayflower in 1620 or on the Arbella in 1630, are often[quantify] considered to be the most representative of the Boston Brahmins'.
The total system was buttressed by the strong extended family ties present in Boston society. Young men attended the same prep schools, colleges, and private clubs, and heirs married heiresses. Family not only served as an economic asset, but also as a means of moral restraint. Most belonged to the Unitarian or Episcopal churches, although some were Congregationalists or Methodists. Politically they were successively Federalists, Whigs, and Republicans
These founding families tied to being WHIGS et al were still GOD'S NATURAL LAW----they believed in GOD-----even as they fought to keep MAGNA CARTA-----EMPIRE ALICE from ABSOLUTE MONARCHY.
We are discussing EMILY DICKINSON while discussing PUBLIC SPACE PUBLIC COMMUNITY CENTER policy because EMILY represented I AM MAN---I AM WOMAN AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT brought by CONSTITUTIONAL MONARCHISM------ending ABSOLUTE MONARCHY through MAGNA CARTA.
Women who were intellectual/genuises BEFORE AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT had to go to the SEMINARY------they were not allowed to participate in intellectualism ------and EMILY was old-fashion. She chose to indulge her PASSIONS of intellect through SECLUSION. She built her own personal PUBLIC SPACE allowing her to voice her PRIVATE FEELING AND THOUGHTS without EDITING.
Whether male or female, these times of AGE ENLIGHTENMENT creating a public space/public community center were ANCIENT GREECE DEMOCRATIC WESTERN thought without those dastardly OLD WORLD KINGS AND QUEENS.
So, EMILY was not a FEMINIST as we think today------but, she had a father/brother who lived the AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT belief that individuals had RIGHTS as did EMILY in choosing to be SECLUDED in her intellectualism.
'Edward Dickinson (1803-1874), father – Emily Dickinson Museum
E dward Dickinson embraced the conservative Whig political party and embodied its ethics of responsibility, fairness, and personal restraint to a point that contemporaries found his demeanor severe and unyielding. He took his role as head of his family seriously, and within his home his decisions and his word were law'.
Emily was very likely more gifted then either her father or brother----but they both respected her status as CITIZEN------
Do we really have to RETHINK ----EMILY as the video in this article and today's global banking 1% media are telling us? Well, we would if we want to believe all today's FAKE NEWS FAKE ACADEMICS------'
All too Human
“It terrifies me, the fragility of these moments in our lives.”
Tuesday, 27 November 2018 Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson is one of America’s greatest and most original poets of all time. She took definition as her province and challenged the existing definitions of poetry and the poet’s work. Like writers such as Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, and Walt Whitman, she experimented with expression in order to free it from conventional restraints. Like writers such as Charlotte Brontë and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, she crafted a new type of persona for the first person. The speakers in Dickinson’s poetry, like those in Brontë’s and Browning’s works, are sharp-sighted observers who see the inescapable limitations of their societies as well as their imagined and imaginable escapes. To make the abstract tangible, to define meaning without confining it, to inhabit a house that never became a prison, Dickinson created in her writing a distinctively elliptical language for expressing what was possible but not yet realized. Like the Concord Transcendentalists whose works she knew well, she saw poetry as a double-edged sword. While it liberated the individual, it as readily left him ungrounded. The literary marketplace, however, offered new ground for her work in the last decade of the 19th century. When the first volume of her poetry was published in 1890, four years after her death, it met with stunning success. Going through eleven editions in less than two years, the poems eventually extended far beyond their first household audiences.
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was born in Amherst, Massachusetts, on December 10, 1830 to Edward and Emily (Norcross) Dickinson. At the time of her birth, Emily’s father was an ambitious young lawyer. Educated at Amherst and Yale, he returned to his hometown and joined the ailing law practice of his father, Samuel Fowler Dickinson. Edward also joined his father in the family home, the Homestead, built by Samuel Dickinson in 1813. Active in the Whig Party, Edward Dickinson was elected to the Massachusetts State Legislature (1837-1839) and the Massachusetts State Senate (1842-1843). Between 1852 and 1855 he served a single term as a representative from Massachusetts to the U.S. Congress. In Amherst he presented himself as a model citizen and prided himself on his civic work—treasurer of Amherst College, supporter of Amherst Academy, secretary to the Fire Society, and chairman of the annual Cattle Show. Comparatively little is known of Emily’s mother, who is often represented as the passive wife of a domineering husband. Her few surviving letters suggest a different picture, as does the scant information about her early education at Monson Academy. Academy papers and records discovered by Martha Ackmann reveal a young woman dedicated to her studies, particularly in the sciences.
By the time of Emily’s early childhood, there were three children in the household. Her brother, William Austin Dickinson, had preceded her by a year and a half. Her sister, Lavinia Norcross Dickinson, was born in 1833. All three children attended the one-room primary school in Amherst and then moved on to Amherst Academy, the school out of which Amherst College had grown. The brother and sisters’ education was soon divided. Austin was sent to Williston Seminary in 1842; Emily and Vinnie continued at Amherst Academy. By Emily Dickinson’s account, she delighted in all aspects of the school—the curriculum, the teachers, the students. The school prided itself on its connection with Amherst College, offering students regular attendance at college lectures in all the principal subjects— astronomy, botany, chemistry, geology, mathematics, natural history, natural philosophy, and zoology. As this list suggests, the curriculum reflected the 19th-century emphasis on science. That emphasis reappeared in Dickinson’s poems and letters through her fascination with naming, her skilled observation and cultivation of flowers, her carefully wrought descriptions of plants, and her interest in “chemic force.” Those interests, however, rarely celebrated science in the same spirit as the teachers advocated. In an early poem, she chastised science for its prying interests. Its system interfered with the observer’s preferences; its study took the life out of living things. In “‘Arcturus’ is his other name” she writes, “I pull a flower from the woods - / A monster with a glass / Computes the stamens in a breath - / And has her in a ‘class!’“ At the same time, Dickinson’s study of botany was clearly a source of delight. She encouraged her friend Abiah Root to join her in a school assignment: “Have you made an herbarium yet? I hope you will, if you have not, it would be such a treasure to you.” She herself took that assignment seriously, keeping the herbarium generated by her botany textbook for the rest of her life. Behind her school botanical studies lay a popular text in common use at female seminaries. Written by Almira H. Lincoln, Familiar Lectures on Botany (1829) featured a particular kind of natural history, emphasizing the religious nature of scientific study. Lincoln was one of many early 19th-century writers who forwarded the “argument from design.” She assured her students that study of the natural world invariably revealed God. Its impeccably ordered systems showed the Creator’s hand at work.
Lincoln’s assessment accorded well with the local Amherst authority in natural philosophy. Edward Hitchcock, president of Amherst College, devoted his life to maintaining the unbroken connection between the natural world and its divine Creator. He was a frequent lecturer at the college, and Emily had many opportunities to hear him speak. His emphasis was clear from the titles of his books--Religious Lectures on Peculiar Phenomena in the Four Seasons (1861), The Religion of Geology and Its Connected Sciences (1851), and Religious Truth Illustrated from Science (1857). Like Louis Agassiz at Harvard, Hitchcock argued firmly that Sir Charles Lyell’s belief-shaking claims in the Principles of Geology (1830-1833) were still explicable through the careful intervention of a divine hand.
Dickinson found the conventional religious wisdom the least compelling part of these arguments. From what she read and what she heard at Amherst Academy, scientific observation proved its excellence in powerful description. The writer who could say what he saw was invariably the writer who opened the greatest meaning to his readers. While this definition fit well with the science practiced by natural historians such as Hitchcock and Lincoln, it also articulates the poetic theory then being formed by a writer with whom Dickinson’s name was often later linked. In 1838 Emerson told his Harvard audience, “Always the seer is a sayer.” Acknowledging the human penchant for classification, he approached this phenomenon with a different intent. Less interested than some in using the natural world to prove a supernatural one, he called his listeners and readers’ attention to the creative power of definition. The individual who could say what is was the individual for whom words were power.
While the strength of Amherst Academy lay in its emphasis on science, it also contributed to Dickinson’s development as a poet. The seven years at the academy provided her with her first “Master,” Leonard Humphrey, who served as principal of the academy from 1846 to 1848. Although Dickinson undoubtedly esteemed him while she was a student, her response to his unexpected death in 1850 clearly suggests her growing poetic interest. She wrote Abiah Root that her only tribute was her tears, and she lingered over them in her description. She will not brush them away, she says, for their presence is her expression. So, of course, is her language, which is in keeping with the memorial verses expected of 19th-century mourners.
Humphrey’s designation as “Master” parallels the other relationships Emily was cultivating at school. At the academy she developed a group of close friends within and against whom she defined her self and its written expression. Among these were Abiah Root, Abby Wood, and Emily Fowler. Other girls from Amherst were among her friends—particularly Jane Humphrey, who had lived with the Dickinsons while attending Amherst Academy. As was common for young women of the middle class, the scant formal schooling they received in the academies for “young ladies” provided them with a momentary autonomy. As students, they were invited to take their intellectual work seriously. Many of the schools, like Amherst Academy, required full-day attendance, and thus domestic duties were subordinated to academic ones. The curriculum was often the same as that for a young man’s education. At their “School for Young Ladies,” William and Waldo Emerson, for example, recycled their Harvard assignments for their students. When asked for advice about future study, they offered the reading list expected of young men. The celebration in the Dickinson household when Austin completed his study of David Hume’s History of England (1762) could well have been repeated for daughters, who also sought to master that text. Thus, the time at school was a time of intellectual challenge and relative freedom for girls, especially in an academy such as Amherst, which prided itself on its progressive understanding of education. The students looked to each other for their discussions, grew accustomed to thinking in terms of their identity as scholars, and faced a marked change when they left school.
Dickinson’s last term at Amherst Academy, however, did not mark the end of her formal schooling. As was common, Dickinson left the academy at the age of 15 in order to pursue a higher, and for women, final, level of education. In the fall of 1847 Dickinson entered Mount Holyoke Female Seminary. Under the guidance of Mary Lyon, the school was known for its religious predilection. Part and parcel of the curriculum were weekly sessions with Lyon in which religious questions were examined and the state of the students’ faith assessed. The young women were divided into three categories: those who were “established Christians,” those who “expressed hope,” and those who were “without hope.” Much has been made of Emily’s place in this latter category and in the widely circulated story that she was the only member of that group. Years later fellow student Clara Newman Turner remembered the moment when Mary Lyon “asked all those who wanted to be Christians to rise.” Emily remained seated. No one else did. Turner reports Emily’s comment to her: “‘They thought it queer I didn’t rise’—adding with a twinkle in her eye, ‘I thought a lie would be queerer.’“ Written in 1894, shortly after the publication of the first two volumes of Dickinson’s poetry and the initial publication of her letters, Turner’s reminiscences carry the burden of the 50 intervening years as well as the reviewers and readers’ delight in the apparent strangeness of the newly published Dickinson. The solitary rebel may well have been the only one sitting at that meeting, but the school records indicate that Dickinson was not alone in the “without hope” category. In fact, 30 students finished the school year with that designation.
The brevity of Emily’s stay at Mount Holyoke—a single year—has given rise to much speculation as to the nature of her departure. Some have argued that the beginning of her so-called reclusiveness can be seen in her frequent mentions of homesickness in her letters, but in no case do the letters suggest that her regular activities were disrupted. She did not make the same kind of close friends as she had at Amherst Academy, but her reports on the daily routine suggest that she was fully a part of the activities of the school. Additional questions are raised by the uncertainty over who made the decision that she not return for a second year. Dickinson attributed the decision to her father, but she said nothing further about his reasoning. Edward Dickinson’s reputation as a domineering individual in private and public affairs suggests that his decision may have stemmed from his desire to keep this particular daughter at home. Dickinson’s comments occasionally substantiate such speculation. She frequently represents herself as essential to her father’s contentment. But in other places her description of her father is quite different (the individual too busy with his law practice to notice what occurred at home). The least sensational explanation has been offered by biographer Richard Sewall. Looking over the Mount Holyoke curriculum and seeing how many of the texts duplicated those Dickinson had already studied at Amherst, he concludes that Mount Holyoke had little new to offer her. Whatever the reason, when it came Vinnie’s turn to attend a female seminary, she was sent to Ipswich.
Dickinson’s departure from Mount Holyoke marked the end of her formal schooling. It also prompted the dissatisfaction common among young women in the early 19th century. Upon their return, unmarried daughters were indeed expected to demonstrate their dutiful nature by setting aside their own interests in order to meet the needs of the home. For Dickinson the change was hardly welcome. Her letters from the early 1850s register dislike of domestic work and frustration with the time constraints created by the work that was never done. “God keep me from what they call households,” she exclaimed in a letter to Root in 1850.
Particularly annoying were the number of calls expected of the women in the Homestead. Edward Dickinson’s prominence meant a tacit support within the private sphere. The daily rounds of receiving and paying visits were deemed essential to social standing. Not only were visitors to the college welcome at all times in the home, but also were members of the Whig Party or the legislators with whom Edward Dickinson worked. Emily Norcross Dickinson’s retreat into poor health in the 1850s may well be understood as one response to such a routine.
For Dickinson, the pace of such visits was mind-numbing, and she began limiting the number of visits she made or received. She baked bread and tended the garden, but she would neither dust nor visit. There was one other duty she gladly took on. As the elder of Austin’s two sisters, she slotted herself into the expected role of counselor and confidante. In the 19th century the sister was expected to act as moral guide to her brother; Dickinson rose to that requirement—but on her own terms. Known at school as a “wit,” she put a sharp edge on her sweetest remarks. In her early letters to Austin, she represented the eldest child as the rising hope of the family. She promoted two virtues, only one of which was central to the moral guide’s provenance. From Dickinson’s perspective, Austin’s safe passage to adulthood depended on two aspects of his character. With the first she was in firm agreement with the wisdom of the century: the young man should emerge from his education with a firm loyalty to home. The second was Dickinson’s own invention: Austin’s success depended on a ruthless intellectual honesty. If he borrowed his ideas, he failed her test of character. There were to be no pieties between them, and when she detected his own reliance on conventional wisdom, she used her language to challenge what he had left unquestioned.
In her letters to Austin in the early 1850s, while he was teaching and in the mid 1850s during his three years as a law student at Harvard, she presented herself as a keen critic, using extravagant praise to invite him to question the worth of his own perceptions. She positioned herself as a spur to his ambition, readily reminding him of her own work when she wondered about the extent of his. Dickinson’s 1850s letters to Austin are marked by an intensity that did not outlast the decade. As Austin faced his own future, most of his choices defined an increasing separation between his sister’s world and his. Initially lured by the prospect of going West, he decided to settle in Amherst, apparently at his father’s urging. Not only did he return to his hometown, but he also joined his father in his law practice. Austin Dickinson gradually took over his father’s role: He too became the citizen of Amherst, treasurer of the College, and chairman of the Cattle Show. In only one case, and an increasingly controversial one, Austin Dickinson’s decision offered Dickinson the intensity she desired. His marriage to Susan Gilbert brought a new “sister” into the family, one with whom Dickinson felt she had much in common. That Gilbert’s intensity was finally of a different order Dickinson learned over time, but in the early 1850s, as her relationship with Austin was waning, her relationship with Gilbert was growing. Gilbert would figure powerfully in Dickinson’s life as a beloved comrade, critic, and alter ego.
Born just nine days after Dickinson, Susan Gilbert entered a profoundly different world from the one she would one day share with her sister-in-law. The daughter of a tavern keeper, Sue was born at the margins of Amherst society. Her father’s work defined her world as clearly as Edward Dickinson’s did that of his daughters. Had her father lived, Sue might never have moved from the world of the working class to the world of educated lawyers. Sue’s mother died in 1837; her father, in 1841. After her mother’s death, she and her sister Martha were sent to live with their aunt in Geneva, New York. They returned periodically to Amherst to visit their older married sister, Harriet Gilbert Cutler. Sue, however, returned to Amherst to live and attend school in 1847. Enrolled at Amherst Academy while Dickinson was at Mount Holyoke, Sue was gradually included in the Dickinson circle of friends by way of her sister Martha.
The end of Sue’s schooling signaled the beginning of work outside the home. She took a teaching position in Baltimore in 1851. On the eve of her departure, Amherst was in the midst of a religious revival. The community was galvanized by the strong preaching of both its regular and its visiting ministers. The Dickinson household was memorably affected. Emily Norcross Dickinson’s church membership dated from 1831, a few months after Emily’s birth. By the end of the revival, two more of the family members counted themselves among the saved: Edward Dickinson joined the church on 11 August 1850, the day that Susan Gilbert also became one of the fold. Vinnie Dickinson delayed some months longer, until November. Austin Dickinson waited several more years, joining the church in 1856, the year of his marriage. The other daughter never made that profession of faith. As Dickinson wrote to her friend Jane Humphrey in 1850, “I am standing alone in rebellion.”
To gauge the extent of Dickinson’s rebellion, consideration must be taken of the nature of church membership at the time as well as the attitudes toward revivalist fervor. As shown by Edward Dickinson’s and Susan Gilbert’s decisions to join the church in 1850, church membership was not tied to any particular stage of a person’s life. To be enrolled as a member was not a matter of age but of “conviction.” The individuals had first to be convinced of a true conversion experience, had to believe themselves chosen by God, of his “elect.” In keeping with the old-style Calvinism, the world was divided among the regenerate, the unregenerate, and those in between. The categories Mary Lyon used at Mount Holyoke (“established Christians,” “without hope,” and “with hope”) were the standard of the revivalist. But unlike their Puritan predecessors, the members of this generation moved with greater freedom between the latter two categories. Those “without hope” might well see a different possibility for themselves after a season of intense religious focus. The 19th-century Christians of Calvinist persuasion continued to maintain the absolute power of God’s election. His omnipotence could not be compromised by an individual’s effort; however, the individual’s unquestioning search for a true faith was an unalterable part of the salvific equation. While God would not simply choose those who chose themselves, he also would only make his choice from those present and accounted for—thus, the importance of church attendance as well as the centrality of religious self-examination. Revivals guaranteed that both would be inescapable.
As Dickinson wrote in a poem dated to 1875, “Escape is such a thankful Word.” In fact, her references to “escape” occur primarily in reference to the soul. In her scheme of redemption, salvation depended upon freedom. The poem ends with praise for the “trusty word” of escape. Contrasting a vision of “the savior” with the condition of being “saved,” Dickinson says there is clearly one choice: “And that is why I lay my Head / Opon this trusty word -” She invites the reader to compare one incarnation with another. Upending the Christian language about the “word,” Dickinson substitutes her own agency for the incarnate savior. She will choose “escape.” A decade earlier, the choice had been as apparent. In the poems from 1862 Dickinson describes the soul’s defining experiences. Figuring these “events” in terms of moments, she passes from the soul’s “Bandaged moments” of suspect thought to the soul’s freedom. In these “moments of escape,” the soul will not be confined; nor will its explosive power be contained: “The soul has moments of escape - / When bursting all the doors - / She dances like a Bomb, abroad, / And swings opon the Hours,”
Like the soul of her description, Dickinson refused to be confined by the elements expected of her. The demands of her father’s, her mother’s, and her dear friends’ religion invariably prompted such “moments of escape.” During the period of the 1850 revival in Amherst, Dickinson reported her own assessment of the circumstances. Far from using the language of “renewal” associated with revivalist vocabulary, she described a landscape of desolation darkened by an affliction of the spirit. In her “rebellion” letter to Humphrey, she wrote, “How lonely this world is growing, something so desolate creeps over the spirit and we don’t know it’s name, and it won’t go away, either Heaven is seeming greater, or Earth a great deal more small, or God is more “Our Father,” and we feel our need increased. Christ is calling everyone here, all my companions have answered, even my darling Vinnie believes she loves, and trusts him, and I am standing alone in rebellion, and growing very careless. Abby, Mary, Jane, and farthest of all my Vinnie have been seeking, and they all believe they have found; I can’t tell you what they have found, but they think it is something precious. I wonder if it is?”
Dickinson’s question frames the decade. Within those ten years she defined what was incontrovertibly precious to her. Not religion, but poetry; not the vehicle reduced to its tenor, but the process of making metaphor and watching the meaning emerge. As early as 1850 her letters suggest that her mind was turning over the possibility of her own work. Extending the contrast between herself and her friends, she described but did not specify an “aim” to her life. She announced its novelty (“I have dared to do strange things—bold things”), asserted her independence (“and have asked no advice from any”), and couched it in the language of temptation (“I have heeded beautiful tempters”). She described the winter as one long dream from which she had not yet awakened. That winter began with the gift of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Poems for New Year’s. Her letters of the period are frequent and long. Their heightened language provided working space for herself as writer. In these passionate letters to her female friends, she tried out different voices. At times she sounded like the female protagonist from a contemporary novel; at times, she was the narrator who chastises her characters for their failure to see beyond complicated circumstances. She played the wit and sounded the divine, exploring the possibility of the new converts’ religious faith only to come up short against its distinct unreality in her own experience. And finally, she confronted the difference imposed by that challenging change of state from daughter/sister to wife.
Lacking the letters written to Dickinson, readers cannot know whether the language of her friends matched her own, but the freedom with which Dickinson wrote to Humphrey and to Fowler suggests that their own responses encouraged hers. Perhaps this sense of encouragement was nowhere stronger than with Gilbert. Although little is known of their early relations, the letters written to Gilbert while she was teaching at Baltimore speak with a kind of hope for a shared perspective, if not a shared vocation. Recent critics have speculated that Gilbert, like Dickinson, thought of herself as a poet. Several of Dickinson’s letters stand behind this speculation, as does one of the few pieces of surviving correspondence with Gilbert from 1861—their discussion and disagreement over the second stanza of Dickinson’s “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers.” Writing to Gilbert in 1851, Dickinson imagined that their books would one day keep company with the poets. They will not be ignominiously jumbled together with grammars and dictionaries (the fate assigned to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow‘s in the local stationer’s). Sue and Emily, she reports, are “the only poets.”
Whatever Gilbert’s poetic aspirations were, Dickinson clearly looked to Gilbert as one of her most important readers, if not the most important. She sent Gilbert more than 270 of her poems. Gilbert may well have read most of the poems that Dickinson wrote. In many cases the poems were written for her. They functioned as letters, with perhaps an additional line of greeting or closing. Gilbert’s involvement, however, did not satisfy Dickinson. In 1850-1851 there had been some minor argument, perhaps about religion. In the mid 1850s a more serious break occurred, one that was healed, yet one that marked a change in the nature of the relationship. In a letter dated to 1854 Dickinson begins bluntly, “Sue—you can go or stay—There is but one alternative—We differ often lately, and this must be the last.” The nature of the difference remains unknown. Critics have speculated about its connection with religion, with Austin Dickinson, with poetry, with their own love for each other. The nature of that love has been much debated: What did Dickinson’s passionate language signify? Her words are the declarations of a lover, but such language is not unique to the letters to Gilbert. It appears in the correspondence with Fowler and Humphrey. As Carroll Smith-Rosenberg has illustrated in Disorderly Conduct: Visions of Gender in Victorian America (1985), the passionate nature of female friendships is something the late 20th century was little prepared to understand. Modern categories of sexual relations, finally, do not fit neatly with the verbal record of the 19th century. “The love that dare not speak its name” may well have been a kind of common parlance among mid-19th-century women.
Dickinson’s own ambivalence toward marriage—an ambivalence so common as to be ubiquitous in the journals of young women—was clearly grounded in her perception of what the role of “wife” required. From her own housework as dutiful daughter, she had seen how secondary her own work became. In her observation of married women, her mother not excluded, she saw the failing health, the unmet demands, the absenting of self that was part of the husband-wife relationship. The “wife” poems of the 1860s reflect this ambivalence. The gold wears away; “amplitude” and “awe” are absent for the woman who meets the requirements of wife. The loss remains unspoken, but, like the irritating grain in the oyster’s shell, it leaves behind ample evidence.
She rose to His Requirement – dropt
The Playthings of Her Life
To take the honorable Work
Of Woman, and of Wife -
If ought She missed in Her new Day,
Of Amplitude, or Awe -
Or first Prospective - Or the Gold
In using, wear away,
It lay unmentioned - as the Sea
Develope Pearl, and Weed,
But only to Himself - be known
The Fathoms they abide -
Little wonder that the words of another poem bound the woman’s life by the wedding. In one line the woman is “Born—Bridalled—Shrouded.”
We are fighting this REVISIONIST idea of who EMILY was because EMILY was simply a garden-variety GENIUS---INTELLECTUAL who like MALE GENIUS/CREATIVE spend much of their lives in SECLUSION----they need SILENCE to gather their creative thoughts. When they open to the NATURAL SPACE they are particularly SENSITIVE to SOUND------EMILY was the POSTER CHILD of being a CREATIVE GENIUS.
If one reads a biography or analysis of EMILY and her life one would see words like MENTALLY ILL----DEPRESSED------FRAGILE-------words one never hears when discussing MALE GENIUS as below. Often male genius shuts out even SEXUALITY-------as was the case for EMILY.
'And Kafka once said 'I need solitude for my writing; not "like a hermit" - that wouldn't be enough - but like a dead man.''
The era in which EMILY lived --------WHIGS-----BOSTON BRAHMIN all tied to MAGNA CARTA AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT -----I AM MAN AND WOMAN------allowed the PERSONAL SOVEREIGNTY to isolate and THINK----WRITE-----
Today, US 99% WE THE PEOPLE wanting to be that independent free thinker are being ==HIT------illegal surveillance with microphone and camera------black market PORN as the way to stop all that FREE THINKING by people who are GENIUS------INTELLIGENT ------ergo, not followers.
EMILY stayed inside because she respect the sensibilities of her time but wanted her PERSONAL SOVEREIGNTY.
EMILY CERTAINLY WOULD NOT HAVE WANTED TO BE A CHATTERER-----GROUP SPEAK TIED TO OLD WORLD KINGS.
Sshh! There's a genius at work:
Being overly sensitive to sound could be the key to intellectuals' creativity
- Inability to shut out irrelevant sounds could be linked to creativity
- Being overly sensitive to sounds could be key to genius, scientists say
- Charles Darwin among great minds who complained about too much noise
Being overly sensitive to sound could have been the key to the creativity of geniuses like Charles Darwin (pictured), scientists believe
We all find noise annoying – but if it really bothers you it could be because you're a genius.
Being overly sensitive to sound could have been the key to the creativity of geniuses like Charles Darwin and Franz Kafka – who both complained of their difficulty of filtering out noise – research has revealed.
Psychologists now believe that an inability to shut out irrelevant sensory information could be strongly linked to creativity.
French writer Marcel Proust was famous for wearing earplugs and lining his bedroom with cork to block out the outside sound while he worked.
And Kafka once said 'I need solitude for my writing; not "like a hermit" - that wouldn't be enough - but like a dead man.'
Darwin and write Anton Chekhov were also known to have complained about how they found it difficult to filter out noise.
Scientists at Northwestern University, Illinois, tested 100 people on their ability to find original solutions to problems and found strong links between an inability to shut out irrelevant audio stimuli, dubbed 'leaky' sensory gating, and creativity.
In tests 100 people were provided solutions to scenarios, with the challenge of coming up with as many original answers as possible.
This was designed to measure their level of 'real world creative achievement'.
The findings, published in the journal Neuropsychologia, suggest those with the affliction might find it easier to think creatively as they can focus on a wide range of things simultaneously.
Darya Zabelina, a PhD psychology student at Northwestern University in Illinois said: 'If funnelled in the right direction, these sensitivities can make life more rich and meaningful, giving experiences more subtlety.'
Today's MOVING FORWARD bringing US to COLONIAL status along with ending AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT -------MAGNA CARTA ------bringing back 3000BC HINDI BRAHMIN------has goal of making all US 99% WE THE PEOPLE immigrant status ---whether black, white, or brown. Especially this dastardly 5% freemason/Greek players ------so, today's US FAKE MEDIA selling the idea of TRUMP leading a movement against ILLEGAL ALIEN IMMIGRANTS------pretending to work for 99% of WE THE RIGHT WING VOTERS-----of course is lying. All US 99% of WE THE PEOPLE are going to LOSE PERSONAL SOVEREIGNTY------we will all LOSE PUBLIC SPACE-------with the ending of ANCIENT GREEK DEMOCRATIC PUBLIC SQUARE.
We use the term BOSTON BRAHMIN----as BALTIMORE BRAHMIN as it was back in EMILY DICKINSON'S day----as an example of what is being KILLED--------we call it instead 3000BC HINDI-BRAHMIN because back then there was only ABSOLUTE MONARCHY----only the GLOBAL 1% had power and wealth-----and they sold the idea they were small (g)------gods and goddesses.
Our US right voters who still really do think TRUMP is ALL-AMERICAN-----better WAKE UP---------you are joining our LEFT 99% OF citizens being pushed under the bus.
OF COURSE ALL THOSE GLOBAL BANKING 5% FREEMASON/GREEK PLAYERS/POLS------LIVING FOR TODAY0-----DON'T CARE ------
This is who NOSY NEIGHBORS AND THE GANG are------5% freemason/Greek CIVIL UNREST CIVIL WAR players being allowed to make money HITTING people into being SECLUDED AND SILENT.
No PERSONAL SOVEREIGNTY or rights as citizens -----WHETHER WHIG OR TORY------for you!
Trump’s Anti-Immigrant Racism Represents an American Tradition
By Paul A. Kramer NEW YORK TIMES
- Jan. 22, 2018
President Trump has inspired widespread outrage and disgust with his crude, racist disparagement of Haiti, El Salvador and African nations and the predominantly black and brown immigrants from these places.
East INDIA experienced the same COLONIALISM as AMERICA and it has these same corruptions of what terms mean----as BRAHMIN. East India had its version of BOSTON BRAHMIN being nothing like the original ancient INDIAN------HINDI-BRAHMIN. DRAVIDIAN were those ancient Indian cultures we call 3000BC HINDI-BRAHMIN. Same as what we call rewriting our Western CREATION MYTH----of Bible's Old Testament------sourced from------3000BC NEAR/MIDDLE EAST.
Below we see East India bringing back the term DRAVIDIAN just as in UK they are bringing back the term WHIG/TORY . Here in US global banking 1% MEDIA use the term BOSTON/BALTIMORE BRAHMIN. So, whether in East India where all of PUBLIC SPACE----PUBLIC COMMUNITY CENTER is being dismantled ---whether UK/BRITAIN/WESTERN EUROPE where all PUBLIC SPACE is being dismantled----whether US where all PUBLIC SPACE is being dismantled-----each one of these nations have global banking 1% MEDIA selling the idea of a return of 1600-1700 AD BOSTON BRAHMIN------WHIGS VS TORY------or DRAVIDIAN PARTIES.
The Dravidian race consists predominantly of south Indians. They are characterized by their dark complexion, large foreheads and dark hair and eyes. According to experts, this race arrived in India around 3000 B C.
This 3000BC HINDI-BRAHMIN was much like our Western ancient HOMER/SOPHOCLES-------gods and goddesses which morphed into our modern religious texts-----OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE/TORAH/KORAN.
If Tamil needs saving, it isn't from Hindi, but from Dravidian parties who claim to be protecting the language
Politics Krishnamurthy Ramasubbu
Jun 06, 2019 09:17:26 IST
Tamil is not as emotive an issue for the people of Tamil Nadu, as it is made out to be by the Tamil television channels and English media. If it is so, it is neither reflected in the state's education system, nor in the education choices of Tamilians.
Just a few days ago and even as the DMK and an assortment of its associated hacks were heroically saving the helpless Tamil population from the imposition of Hindi by a majoritarian, upper caste, suit-boot sarkar; traders in Theni district — a major centre for fruit and vegetable trade — were busy putting up posters and distributing pamphlets supporting the introduction of Hindi.
Who were Dravidians in India?
Published on: March 15, 2013 | Updated on: October 16, 2014
Some people claim that the Dravadians originally inhabited the Northern part of India and were later pushed to the southern part of the country by the Aryans. Hence about 28% of Indians are Dravidians and reside in South India with one of the Dravadian languages as their main language, which includes, Tamil, Malayalam, Telugu, Kannada and Tulu. The Dravidian language has three subgroups, namely North Dravidian, Central Dravidian and South Dravidian. In present day India, the states of Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu are the significant regions with a Dravidian population, the rest 72% are Aryans, residing in North India.The difference in the origin of these languages is the reason of the different South and North Indian accents. We know very little about the Dravidian people in India, who used to reside in the country before the Aryans invaded Northern India from Iran and Southern Russia.
It is believed by some linguists that the Dravidian people were well spread all across the Indian sub continent and it is because of this that the Indus Valley civilization (Harappa and Mohenjo Daro) is also referred to as a Dravidian civilization, but whether the Indus Valley civilization is Dravidian or not is still controversial.
Dravidian people residing in present day Central India are tribal people known as Gond people, Kannadigaru Dravidians are from Karnataka, northern Kerala and southern Maharashtra, and northwest Tamil Nadu, Kondha Dravidians are from eastern Indian states of Andhra Pradesh and Orissa, Kodavas Dravidian people from Karnataka and northern Kerala. Then there are Kurukh, Malayali, Tamil, Telugus and Tuluvas people who belong to Dravidians in India.
Dravidians were actually peace loving farmers and they were not trained in any kind of warfare. It is believed that when the Aryans invaded India, they pushed the Dravidians to the Southern part, as the Aryans were skilled fighters and came prepared with weapons and chariots. Also Dravidians, had a very sophisticated culture and used to worship all forms of life like herbs, and plants. With the coming of the Aryans, the concept of heaven and God came into existence which dramatically changed society.
Not much is known about the Dravidians, so only archaeological and linguistic studies are the main source of information about them. Dravidian people have dark complexion, dark black hair and eyes and large foreheads. Because of structural similarities, it is also believed that Dravidians has an African origin. As per this anthropological and genetic data, these people migrated from Africa and reached South India via the southern route about 50,000 years ago. Because of rivers and fertile soil they stayed in India in large numbers, than other parts of world.
But there are many theories and studies that explain the origin of Dravidians, their link to Africa, Aryan invasion and Dravidian’s migration to South India. But all the theories state the fact that Dravidians were a very classy and skilled race of people.
Today's ROBBER BARON sacking and looting of our US government coffers and people's pocket created of course this NEW TEMPORARY BRAHMIN---CLASS being told they are the EMILY DICKINSON'S or WHIGS of today just as in EAST INDIA these same DRAVIDIAN are being told they are the NEW BRAHMINS.
EMILY DICKINSON and her father would KNOW BETTER as they knew what EMPIRE ALICE looked like before MAGNA CARTA------before CONSTITUTIONAL MONARCHY ended ABSOLUTE MONARCHY.
These are today's global banking 5% freemason/Greek players-----merely rich thinking they are WINNERS and the rest of us are the LOSERS-------you know, the US VS THEM.
'The Brahmin Caste Today Today, the Brahmins comprise about 5% of the total population of India'.
'What Rights Did the Magna Carta Protect?
The Magna Carta, first written on June 15, 1215, protected basic human rights including freedom from excessive government control and property. The Magna Carta was written by barons protesting ill treatment endured under the reign of King John. The barons failed to achieve change in the feudal system of England, but raised important social and political issues championed later by English citizens'.
While the US 99% WE THE PEOPLE are being told we are going back to FDR NEW DEAL left social progressivism when we are not----so too, those global banking 5% freemason/Greek players being sold as the NEW BRAHMIN are both being LIED TO---CHEATED-----GLOBAL 1% OLD WORLD KINGS STEALING---------MAGNA CARTA.
'Others say their wealth and power have dried up, that all they have left are their names and what's left in their trust funds'.
The New Brahmins
By Alexandra Hall· 5/15/2006, 3:43 p.m.
This is not a life-or-death emergency. It's not cocktail-hour bluster. For the son of F. Murray Forbes Jr. who grew up on the exclusive flat side of Beacon Hill in a townhouse overlooking the Vincent Club and “a statue of an angel casting bread out into the water,” this is simply another conversation about society's desperate need for art.
Forbes is a dyed-in-the-tweed Brahmin. His great-great-granduncle was John Murray Forbes, patriarch of the “long-tailed” branch of the Forbeses, which means the relatively bohemian side of the venerable family, a branch historically given to supporting–and, in Murray Forbes's case today, embodying–art and drama. Forbes himself has spent his life painting and overseeing the Navigator Foundation, which finds and brings underappreciated art from Eastern and Central Europe to the Boston public.
If he seems to exude a certain larger-than-life persona, Forbes has a right to. His ancestors made some of the country's first fortunes in shipping, built the transcontinental railroad, went on secret missions for Abraham Lincoln, helped create the Robert Gould Shaw 54th Regiment Memorial on Boston Common, and made millions investing in Alexander Graham Bell's experiments with a little something called the telephone. One of Boston's first families, the clan has continued its good works in recent generations, doing everything from heading up Boston's State Street Bank and Trust Company (Allan Forbes in the 1950s) to running for president this election year (F. Murray's second cousin, John Forbes Kerry). It's no wonder Forbes is so theatrical.
Not that he lives under the spell of his own charm. He likes hamming up the part of the grand storyteller, resuming the tale of how he was almost killed by an oncoming car while searching for art in Poland during the Cold War. And, frankly, he's working it. “These were important societies!” he says with the swoosh of an outstretched palm. “They had a great deal of love of art–playwrights, poets, painters–even under communism. They came out of–if you'll excuse my language–bloody nations with a considerable culture, because society continues even under duress.” His deep voice, infused with a vague dash of the BBC, is not marked by money in the crass Fitzgeraldian sense, but with something equally abstract: history. Listen to him long enough, and you can almost make out layers of ancestry, thick with both privilege and responsibility.
Without warning, Forbes clears his throat. “Now I'm going to ask something naughty,” he says through a smirk. “If our idea of culture in Boston is something predicated on the understanding that Boston had an upper class devoted to maintaining its culture”–he pauses for a moment for effect–“I wonder what that leaves us now?”
If Boston is, in fact, the Athens of America, the Boston Brahmins hover over our city like the gods of Greek mythology. Not only were they the ones responsible for molding Boston into a version of Athens in the first place, but their reputations are parallel: deities in history, enigmas in the modern day.
Rumors about the Brahmins' influence in old and modern Boston are as plentiful as they are contradictory. Without a doubt, the Brahmins were (and, some believe, still are) the shadowy cabal that pulled the city's strings from on high. Others say their wealth and power have dried up, that all they have left are their names and what's left in their trust funds. Admirers retort that the Brahmins are this city's caregivers, lovers of culture and education; detractors claim that they are elitist and provincial Boston royalty. What's undisputed is that, despite their generations of wealth, the Brahmins were notoriously averse to the crass shows of wealth on display in places like Palm Beach or Newport. They are distinctly Boston creations, who actively shun glamour and attention in spite of their fortunes.
Many of their family names are easily recognized: Lowell and Ames. Adams and Cabot. Forbes. Shaw. Appleton. Crowninshield. Saltonstall. But mostly, we non-Brahmins know the institutions they created and left behind and, in a few cases, still sustain: the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the Peabody Essex and Isabella Stewart Gardner museums, WGBH, the Museum of Fine Arts. In fact, most of us know these institutions better than the names of the benefactors who founded them because, by their nature, Brahmins don't like to chisel their names onto buildings. “The Brahmin mystique was that they were very quiet,” says society columnist Jonathan Soroff. “You never knew that they had a dime.” In a sense, they were the originators of shabby chic; even today, there might be a Brahmin right under your nose, and you wouldn't even know it.
The remaining Brahmins, comparatively relaxed by historical standards, closely guard their privacy, rarely ask that the hospital wings they pay for be named for them, and (believe us) do not rush to consent to interviews. As one Brahmin (who, of course, asked not to be named) put it: “My dear, a Brahmin should only be in the newspaper when he is born, when he marries, and when he dies.”
That ethos, almost unheard of in a culture of reality TV and Paris Hilton, was built up over generations of quiet community building. More than anything, the history of the Boston Brahmin is the history of philanthropy in Boston. And the sense of noblesse oblige that became the hallmark of the original Boston Brahmins was arguably a result of the fact that many of them started out with nothing and became rich.
Even people as Old Money as Brahmins were nouveau riche once. And the means by which they got that way were, if not always illegal, not always ethical, either.
Most first families–that description notwithstanding–did not arrive here on the Mayflower. “If everybody who says they came over on that boat really had,” says one Boston woman who is a friend of many Brahmins, “it would have sunk.” (Nor are Brahmins, for the record, merely WASPs. Even old-family white Anglo-Saxon Protestants, however wealthy they may be now, are looked down on by authentic Brahmins as “swamp Yankees.”)
In fact, most Brahmin names of note belong to old New England families of Anglican origin, many of whom settled in Boston at varying points before the 17th century and made their fortunes by the mid-19th.
“What the family forebears were doing in the 150 years from 1630 until 1780 or so makes little difference,” wrote Cleveland Amory in his landmark book The Proper Bostonians. “Neither the accurate identification of the first bearer of the name to 'come over'–the Lees and the Holmeses have never satisfied themselves on this point–nor where the family originally settled–Boston's Gardners came from Maine, its Hallowells from Pennsylvania–are important considerations.” What mattered was that each family had what Amory terms a merchant prince–a patriarch to build the fortune and launch the family name in society before the 1860s.
For many–the Lowells, the Cabots–that meant making money in industry, beginning with textiles. Seafaring was also a common pursuit, and that's where things grew lucrative–and often dubious. Many of the original Brahmins' dealings would make Enron look squeaky clean. Rum-running and opium trading were not uncommon lines of business.
Cabots, Derbys, Searses, Endicotts, Peabodys, Crowninshields–all were “men who, if not actually pirates, were at least Vikings in their methods,” wrote Amory. “To ease their New England consciences, rum was technically known as 'West Indies Goods'; the label 'Groceries and W.I. Goods,' was a familiar one on Boston's Merchants' Row.”
On land, some well-respected Brahmins were not above downright swindling. When Harrison Gray Otis and Samuel Cabot learned that the Massachusetts State House was to be built on Beacon Hill, they bought the artist John Singleton Copley's 15-acre estate at a ridiculously low price while Copley was away. When he returned, Copley was outraged–not only because he believed the land was stolen from him, but because, not long after, it became worth more than he would make from selling paintings for his entire life. He never got any satisfaction–primarily because the most powerful Brahmin families at the time allied themselves against him.
Many Brahmins never forgot how they came by their wealth and took measures to redeem themselves. “A big part of the Brahmin sense of giving to the community came from their guilt over the source of their money,” says society writer Soroff.
Whatever their reasons for giving, the Brahmins gave big, founding and funding institutions and dedicating not only their fortunes to them but also in many cases much of their lives. Henry Lee Higginson, who founded the Boston Symphony Orchestra in 1881, made up the orchestra's annual deficits out of his own pocket, several times risking personal bankruptcy, and paid for the construction of Symphony Hall. In 1918, a handful of Brahmins–Judge Frederick P. Cabot, Frederick E. Lowell, and Bentley W. Warren among them–took up the cause, continuing to cover the symphony's deficits. This tradition didn't end until 1966, when the BSO began its first fundraising campaign.
Then there's the historically Brahmin stronghold of the Museum of Fine Arts. In 1869, the proprietors of the Boston Athenaeum–one of the nation's most outstanding private libraries, headed by the Cabots–agreed to give over a part of its impressive art collection for a museum dedicated to “the preservation and exhibition of works of art.” The MFA was a receptacle of Brahmin goodwill from the start, receiving money and art from Brahmin family collections and presided over by men like Martin Brimmer, Thomas Jefferson Coolidge, Ralph Lowell, and Edward Jackson Holmes. When, in 1875, John Lowell's heirs gave artifacts he had collected on his travels through the Middle East, they later became part of the Egyptian wing.
The gifts were staggering. “If you look at money that the museum's wealthy philanthropist founders put up in today's terms, that was an enormous amount,” says Bob Henderson, the current chair of the MFA's capital campaign. Yet the Brahmins who founded the museum took measures to involve the public. “It was not a museum for the six or eight families who founded it,” says Patricia Jacoby, who heads up the MFA's ongoing fundraising campaign. “So instead of funding it entirely themselves, they built a subscription program, asking hundreds of people to give nominal amounts so they would feel like it was their museum, too.”
Boston's suburbs also were nourished by the first families. In Salem, the Peabody family was so prominent, it was said there that you were a “Peabody or nobody.” (Today, the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem still draws the support and involvement of Brahmins like Saltonstall descendant George Lewis.) In and around Easton, Oliver Ames started manufacturing shovels in 1803, building a fortune that by the 1860s was enough to underwrite the Union Pacific Railroad. “Once that money was invested, they became big players,” says Greg Galer, curator of the Industrial History Center at Stonehill College. “Frederick Lothrop Ames was an original stockholder of General Electric, and they had huge real estate interests, which is how they ended up building so much of Boston–including the Colonial Theatre, parts of MIT, and the Ames Building,” the tallest building in Boston when it was completed in 1893 and for 26 years thereafter.
The Lowell family took up another cause: public education. From that would eventually come WGBH, today the country's largest public television producer, which has harvested literally hundreds of Emmys, Peabodys, and even Oscars. The station's roots took hold when Ralph Lowell and Harvard president James Conant offered public lectures–along with other local universities. Realizing the power radio would soon have, Lowell got himself a broadcasting license, and the symposium started airing lectures on the radio and, later, on television.
It was also a Lowell who gave Isabella Stewart Gardner, perhaps the best-known Brahmin icon, her entrée into Boston society. Neither a true Brahmin nor a native Bostonian, she came here from New York to marry John Lowell “Jack” Gardner Jr., whose father was considered the last of the East India merchants. Not that she had any trouble making her mark: Gardner was as famed for her eccentric behavior as she was for her philanthropy. She drank beer instead of tea, for instance, and was rumored to walk down Tremont Street with a leashed lion. Once she openly flouted Brahmin shabby chic by wearing two enormous diamonds–not as jewelry, but on gold springs hovering above her head. Her wealthy contemporaries were not amused.