p;: 
 
 OPEN LETTERj 
 
 from 
 
 BLISS CARMAN 
 
 7 ^ 
 
 
"AN OPEN LETTER" 
 
 from 
 
 BLISS CARMAN 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
Copyright, 1920, 
 
 By SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY 
 
 (^Incorporated) 
 
BY WAY OF PREFACE. 
 
 Saranac Lake, 
 
 i8, December, ipip. 
 
 My dear M. P. K. 
 
 It is somewhere about thirty below zero 
 this morning, but what of that? Things begin 
 to look better. The trail begins to lead up 
 out of the valley toward a peak somewhere 
 ahead, not quite clear yet — but there. We 
 are not quite out of the woods, but they begin 
 to thin; the drifts are not so deep; the smother 
 is not so dense; and the going is better. 
 
 As I look back I wonder how I ever set out. 
 If it had not been for you and my sister and 
 Eric, I never should have got off at all. It all 
 seemed too difficult — and unimportant. Even 
 at the last minute I think I might have stam- 
 peded from the train, but for you and Anna 
 Kenny and Emily. And now, behold, the ex- 
 
pedition you all outfitted with every cheer and 
 comfort prospers beyond imagining. Only I 
 fear that all you have undertaken and put 
 through for me is far too much for your 
 strength, and no improvement of mine could 
 compensate for such a mishap. 
 
 Then could anything he more encouraging 
 than all the prompt and kind reinforcement 
 from Twilight — from Mrs, Rhinelander and 
 A, F, Huston, Linda, Mr. and Mrs, Charles 
 Da^ey, Raymond Gorges, J, J, Burkle, Stanley 
 Hooper, and all those good people? It is 
 certainly a rare good fortune to have had such 
 a summer home all these years among the 
 beautiful Cat skills, so peaceful, so humane, so 
 full of true neighborliness and gentle enduring 
 friendship. 
 
 When I think of it all — what an array of 
 loving friends! Dear Mrs. Dithmar with that 
 unquenchable passion for kindness, blessed 
 Mr, and Mrs. Hathaway keeping lovable their 
 immortal name of sweet memory, Jewett and 
 F. P. Adams and Jay Kaufman with their 
 wondrous scheme for a fellow temporarily 
 down, and Fromk Crane with his great follow- 
 ing — a whole marvellous army of benefi- 
 
cience marshalled in one mortaVs behalf. How 
 unmerited, hut how heartening, how inspiring! 
 There are so many I have the pleasure of 
 thinking of, so many who have proved again 
 the value of old acquaintance with astounding 
 liberality of kindness and remembrance, — C. 
 B. DeCamp, Edward Epstean, Gilman Hall, 
 Harold Hall, Rupert Hughes, Charles Rose- 
 bault, F. F. Sherman, Harry Thompson, 
 and still others, — really a wonderful list. 
 What sheer whole-hearted kindness! What 
 men to count ay friends! And how gratifying 
 to be remembered in Canada by McArthur and 
 R. H, Hathaway and Stringer and Sullivan 
 and other old comrades or fellow-craftsmen ! 
 But perhaps the most astonishing surprise in 
 all this astonishing and really great experience 
 has been the generous sympathy and aid from 
 men and women I didn't know, and whom I 
 surely wish to know one day. Here, to name 
 only two, are Mr, A, E. Rothstein of New 
 York and Mr. W. C. Nichol of Vancouver, 
 both strangers and yet — what friends. How 
 is it that there are men so royal and so unpre- 
 tentious f Truly the world is no such place of 
 selfish indifference as the dolorous would have 
 
us believe; rather it seems a place where aU 
 mighty goodness walks about and where there 
 is more than one City of Brotherly Love, 
 
 Happy thoughts about all this have been 
 running through my brain, and I have begun, 
 not exactly an Apologia, but a sort of memo- 
 randum in rhyme on One Man's Case, as it 
 might be called, I only wish it could carry to 
 all those who must journey into the austerity 
 of the North Woods seeking health some of the 
 mighty heartening I have received. 
 
 What the conclusion of the rhyme m^ust be 
 does not yet appear. But all in good time. 
 Gratefully ever 
 
 B, C, 
 
 To Mary Perry King, 
 Sunshine House, 
 
 New Canaan, Conn, 
 
AN OPEN LETTER 
 
 A cold, a cough, and suddenly one day a gush of 
 red. 
 Then the doctors tapped and listened, with very little 
 said. 
 
 There are some things never mentioned, as we tacitly 
 
 agree ; 
 So they called it "an involvement," and I knew they 
 
 meant T. B. 
 
 "But the clear-aired North will cure you. Pack up 
 
 your kit, and go. 
 The cold will be your doctor, and your nurse will be 
 
 the snow. 
 
 There is virtue in the open; there is healing out of 
 
 doors ; 
 The great Physician makes his rounds along the 
 
 forest floors." 
 
So they shipped me in a sleeper, with a ticket for 
 
 the North,— 
 From the city of my hopes and dreams, and all T 
 
 loved on earth. 
 
 I did not want a golden throne in any lonely star, 
 I only wanted to be left where loving people are. 
 
 I wanted just the smiles and hands that waved me 
 
 out of sight, 
 As we slipped beyond the station, to the tunnel and 
 
 the night. 
 
 II. 
 
 At dawn I saw the dying moon get up as we went 
 
 by, 
 And the yellow autumn larches standing cold against 
 
 the sky. 
 
 And a shanty in a clearing, all desolate and lone, 
 As if the chill of morning had struck it to the bone. 
 
 Then a line of split rail fences, a lift of rugged 
 
 hills ; 
 And so into the great North woods I took my puny 
 
 ills. 
 
III. 
 
 On a porch that faced the morning, in a blanket 
 
 on a chair, 
 I came into my fortune as they left me lying there, — 
 
 When Adam lay in Eden and looked upon the sky, 
 He was master of a leisure no more absolute than I. 
 
 Here was the earth, — all bleak and bare, with winter 
 coming on, 
 
 A grim untempting battle-field for a soul's Mara- 
 thon. 
 
 This was the selfsame earth which gave the shining 
 April flowers, 
 
 The thrush's flute at twilight, and the tranquil sum- 
 mer hours; 
 
 Now dour and taciturn and hard, yet standing by to 
 
 aid 
 The dauntless spirit that must prove of what stuff 
 
 it is made. 
 
 Stern, leading on to venture with the issue still in 
 
 doubt. 
 She tests our common manhood and strains the 
 
 weakness out. 
 
She lights her far horizons with promise of the 
 
 truth, 
 And hangs her star of glory out to guide the steps 
 
 of youth. 
 
 She dares us with the hazard, and stings us with 
 rebuff, 
 
 Till we learn her ways and wisdom — and the knowl- 
 edge is enough. 
 
 One lesson here was plain; that I must learn the 
 
 final worth 
 Of good and ill, of weal and woe, as they are named 
 
 on earth. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The mountains lay around me, like giants on the 
 
 trail. 
 Whose strength was at my service, whose patience 
 
 would not fail. 
 
 The Sun was my attendant to light my morning fire ; 
 The Night brought in my candles; what more could 
 one require? 
 
 And one great shining planet would come before 
 
 the dawn. 
 Over the dark blue Eastern hills, to tell me night 
 
 was gone. 
 
I watched the silent sunrise come up, and melt and 
 
 change 
 Through mauve and saffron glory as it flooded 
 
 range on range, 
 
 And rimmed the purple valleys, and tipped the 
 
 peaks with fire. 
 Till this world seemed no more desolate, but a 
 
 Land of Heart's Desire! 
 
 New life and warmth and beauty were born there 
 
 in my sight. 
 And all the dimming corners of my heart were 
 
 filled with light. 
 
 I saw across a valley the autumn rains come down, 
 And sweep in solemn grandeur across the forest 
 crown ; 
 
 And I thought upon the valley where each man 
 
 walks alone. 
 And all the trails run out and stop at the edge of 
 
 the unknown. 
 
 But I did not dread solitude, nor find those vasts 
 
 forlorn 
 With their enfolding silences, for I was Northern 
 
 born. 
 
The great unbroken wilderness was all a joy to see, 
 And the firs and pointed spruces were like old 
 friends to me. 
 
 And when I heard the whisper of the snow begin 
 
 to sing, 
 My heart went wild for gladness, as if it had been 
 
 spring. 
 
 Out of the gray came whirling the legions of the 
 
 air. 
 That dance upon the storm-wind and make the 
 
 world more fair. 
 
 All night they wrought their witch-work until the 
 
 morning glow, 
 When every bough was bending with blossoms of 
 
 the snow. 
 
 Then slowly, very slowly I crept out to the wild. 
 With the rapture and the wonder and the footsteps 
 of a child. 
 
 VI. 
 
 There was a wild young river, — where Robert Louis 
 
 heard 
 The rapids brawling in the night, and with the 
 
 stars conferred. 
 
And black beneath its banks of snow it ran and 
 
 murmured still, 
 And beside it ran the highway in the shelter of the 
 
 hill. 
 
 There day by day and yard by yard I learned to 
 
 walk again. 
 With the North wind for my trainer. His ways 
 
 were rough and plain, 
 
 But he stung me into courage, and put his heart in 
 
 me; 
 While the silent spruces watched us and the river 
 
 ran to see. 
 
 There in that snowy woodland under the mountain 
 side. 
 
 The surge and lift of life came back like a return- 
 ing tide. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Once when the thickening storm came down and 
 
 shut the hills away, 
 I saw a vision in the wood, — a host that showed 
 
 the way. 
 
They spoke no word; they were not real; but they 
 were real to me; 
 
 And as I looked I saw — my friends, a smiling com- 
 pany, — 
 
 All those who left me years ago to take the un- 
 known trail. 
 
 And those I left but yesterday; and they all gave 
 me hail, 
 
 With lighted eye and lifted hand, the wonted sign 
 
 of cheer, — 
 "The trail is good, good all the way, and there is 
 
 nought to fear 1" 
 
 VIII. 
 
 There they all stood as at review to watch me as 
 
 I came. 
 In front of all inspired Sir George, his eyes still 
 
 like blue flame, 
 
 As when, a great Head Master he set us in the way, 
 That from the straight beginning we might not go 
 astray. 
 
 Before that strong expectant gaze with head thrown 
 
 up to see, 
 I would have done my stinted mile, though it had 
 
 finished me! 
 
 8 
 
And there my princely father stood, with his bright 
 
 courtly smile 
 That knew the folly of the world yet loved it all the 
 
 while. 
 
 There was T. R. our hero who crossed the Last 
 
 Divide, 
 And left the world all leaderless when its great 
 
 captain died. 
 
 And glorious Royce, with his great brow; and 
 
 Richard debonair, 
 With the old aplomb and tolerance of his majestic 
 
 air; 
 
 Peter the Sage of Ekfrid; Pirie, laird of the Glen; 
 Alan, a monarch of the air; and Eric, a prince of 
 men; 
 
 Great Mathew, with his four score years and royal 
 
 heart of youth; 
 And Levi, old-school gentleman and lover of the 
 
 truth ; 
 
 Good Father John, hale, merry-souled, and straight 
 
 as any reed. 
 Whose tender voice makes Scripture seem the word 
 
 of God indeed. 
 
And that tall soldier of St. George whose heart's 
 
 glow through the tan 
 Proclaims the captain of our faith a brother and a 
 
 man; 
 
 Brave Dr. Frank, and F. P. A., those humanest of 
 
 seers, 
 Whose smiling wisdom helps us bear the fardel of 
 
 the years. 
 
 Familiar, with the selfless smile St. Francis might 
 have worn. 
 
 Came Rutger, strong with lifting his brothers over- 
 borne ; 
 
 And there my fellow craftsmen, the Authors, in a 
 
 band 
 Make haste to play their generous part, as those 
 
 who understand; 
 
 Close to their ranks a patron and patriot of Yale, 
 True friend of letters and the land that is too proud 
 to fail; 
 
 Perry, my lad from oversea, with proffer of his 
 
 best, — 
 Grown from a kiddie on my knee to powers none 
 
 had guessed; 
 
 10 
 
Albertus, noble friend revered,— New England, kind 
 
 and wise; 
 Don Carlos, with the feeling heart under his rugged 
 
 guise ; 
 
 Beloved Irving and dear B., who make, for trav- 
 ellers' need, 
 The City of the Angels angelical indeed; 
 
 And hospitable Shepard, who loves the murmured 
 
 rhyme, — 
 The whisper from the soul of things mysterious 
 
 and sublime. 
 
 Hark, Rudolph Ganz ! I cannot tell which rings 
 
 with finer joy, 
 The spell from your inspired hands or your radiance 
 
 of a boy. 
 
 Joe, Louis, Willis, E. A. D. and Harry and B. J.; 
 Dillon and George, my brothers in love, — my pals 
 through Judgment Day; 
 
 Morton and Mitchell good to see, and my kinsmen 
 
 Will and Ben, 
 Who keep the ancient covenant that binds the hearts 
 
 of men; 
 
 11 
 
Andrew, my chum with whom I ran the rapids 
 
 many a day, 
 And bent above the paddle as the long miles slipped 
 
 away. 
 
 And from the little country town where once I went 
 
 unknown, 
 Were those who set me by their hearth and made 
 
 me as their own; 
 
 The fine old man who stayed my heart with home- 
 made talk and wine; 
 
 And those with whom I sat at meat or walked 
 through rain and shine; 
 
 And Alfred, matchless playfellow, who helped me 
 
 pitch my tent 
 Among wild roses and sweet-grass where we found 
 
 heart's content. 
 
 Bertram and Ralph the builders, whose glorious 
 
 work shall stand 
 Among the holy minsters in faithful ages planned; 
 
 And Tom who keeps the glamor of our remembered 
 
 days 
 In warm unfading colors and a comrade's loyal ways. 
 
 ways. 
 
 12 
 
Billy, the music master, — his genius free at last; 
 Great Reedy, no more troubled now, — his final 
 proof-sheets passed. 
 
 And who are these with modest mien, yet aureoled 
 
 with light. 
 Whose paths are like the gleaming trail of meteors 
 
 through the night? 
 
 O'er pampering and ignorance lies their unresting 
 
 way, 
 Bearing reprieve — the doctors come with cure for 
 
 all dismay. 
 
 IX. 
 
 And women — Glory be to God, who looked upon his 
 
 earth 
 When it was all but finished, and marked one lack 
 
 of worth; 
 
 And gave it for full measure brimmed over, and 
 
 above 
 AH dream or understanding, the grace of woman's 
 
 love! 
 
 God's happy thought for Eden, the sheer unmeas- 
 ured good, 
 
 Incarnate faith and fondness, in beauty there they 
 stood. 
 
 13 
 
April, Britannia, Sybil, Janet and Eleanor, 
 Daphne, Cordelia, Ona, Blythe, Chloe of loving lore, 
 
 And that patrician mother with her sweet-voiced 
 
 tenderness, 
 Whose hands have earned the royal right to succor 
 
 and to bless, 
 
 Agnes and Mish and Yonnie, dear ministrants of 
 
 grace, 
 Gertrude and Norma, — they all shone, illuminating 
 
 that place. 
 
 And my old strong-heart Loyalists with pride of 
 
 race and name, 
 Who feared the Lord and served the Queen — and 
 
 bred me to the same. 
 
 X. 
 
 High overhead within the storm there grew a won- 
 drous scroll, 
 
 Inscribed in characters of light revealed as clouds 
 unroll. 
 
 And Oh the names, bright lists of those whom I had 
 
 never known! 
 I want the hands that fit those names to hold within 
 
 my own; 
 
 14 
 
And see the light of brotherhood from all those 
 
 faces shine, 
 Attesting their high lineage from Mercy, the divine. 
 
 XI. 
 
 There came a morning when the flakes were falling 
 
 thick and white. 
 And every fence and roadway was buried out of 
 
 sight. 
 
 And I heard the ranges calling through the smother 
 
 and the blow, 
 Till a restlessness possessed me and I knew that I 
 
 must go. 
 
 The snowshoes of my boyhood I harnessed on with 
 
 joy. 
 And with them the excitement and illusions of a 
 
 boy. 
 
 Friendship and Hope and Joyousness went with me 
 
 as I sped 
 To the spring of netted rawhide strung taut beneath 
 
 my tread. 
 
 IS 
 
With the creaking of the snowshoe came back the 
 limber stride, 
 
 As I swung across the meadow and along the moun- 
 tain side. 
 
 And a shadow from the balsams stole out to walk 
 
 with me, — 
 A courageous smiling presence no other eyes could 
 
 see, 
 
 Close to my side as ever, a heartening snowy wraith, 
 My merry little sister, all love and pride and faith. 
 
 No stress could ever daunt her, no strain could ever 
 
 quell 
 That fond and fearless spirit. She loved and all 
 
 was well ! 
 
 Through the wilderness all silent and powdery with 
 
 snow, 
 We kept the pace together as we kept it long ago; 
 
 Till beyond the bounds of exile, with new life to 
 
 explore, 
 Aglow upon a conquered height I stood — a man 
 
 once more. 
 
 16 
 
XII. 
 
 May He whose habitation is in the lasting hills, 
 The frost and cold, the summer fields, the woods 
 and singing rills. 
 
 Look kindly on the little town of my captivity, 
 And bless the lonely wilderness that was so good 
 to me; 
 
 And have forever in His care, come snow or sun or 
 
 rain, 
 Those golden hearts who gave me love and strength 
 
 to walk again! 
 
 And may the peace of clear new moons, the solace 
 
 of the sun, 
 Be with the ailing of the earth and heal them every 
 one! 
 
 The Adirondacks, 
 1919-20. 
 
 17 
 
I 
 
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