Maria Mitchell: Life, Letters, and Journals | Page 5

A young sailor boy came to see me to-day. It pleases
me to have these lads seek me on their return from their first voyage,
and tell me how much they have learned about navigation. They always
say, with pride, 'I can take a lunar, Miss Mitchell, and work it up!'

"This boy I had known only as a boy, but he has suddenly become a
man and seems to be full of intelligence. He will go once more as a
sailor, he says, and then try for the position of second mate. He looked
as if he had been a good boy and would make a good man.
"He said that he had been ill so much that he had been kept out of
temptation; but that the forecastle of a ship was no place for
improvement of mind or morals. He said the captain with whom he
came home asked him if he knew me, because he had heard of me. I
was glad to find that the captain was a man of intelligence and had been
kind to the boy."
Miss Mitchell was an inveterate reader. She devoured books on all
subjects. If she saw that boys were eagerly reading a certain book she
immediately read it; if it were harmless she encouraged them to read it;
if otherwise, she had a convenient way of losing the book. In
November, when the trustees made their annual examination, the book
appeared upon the shelf, but the next day after it was again lost. At this
time Nantucket was a thriving, busy town. The whale-fishery was a
very profitable business, and the town was one of the wealthiest in the
State. There was a good deal of social and literary life. In a Friend's
family neither music nor dancing was allowed.
Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell were by no means narrow sectarians, but they
believed it to be best to conform to the rules of Friends as laid down in
the "Discipline." George Fox himself, the founder of the society, had
blown a blast against music, and especially instrumental music in
churches. It will be remembered that the Methodists have but recently
yielded to the popular demand in this respect, and have especially
favored congregational singing.
It is most likely that George Fox had no ear for music himself, and thus
entailed upon his followers an obligation from which they are but now
freeing themselves.
There was plenty of singing in the Mitchell family, and the parents
liked it, especially the father, who, when he sat down in the evening
with the children, would say, "Now sing something." But there could

be no instruction in singing; the children sang the songs that they
picked up from their playmates.
However, one of the daughters bought a piano, and Maria's purse
opened to help that cause along. It would not have been proper for Mr.
Mitchell to help pay for it, but he took a great interest in it, nevertheless.
So indeed did the mother, but she took care not to express herself
outwardly.
The piano was kept in a neighboring building not too far off to be heard
from the house. Maria had no ear for music herself, but she was always
to be depended upon to take the lead in an emergency, so the sisters put
their heads together and decided that the piano must be brought into the
house. When they had made all the preparations the father and mother
were invited to take tea with their married daughter, who lived in
another part of the town and had been let into the secret.
The piano was duly removed and placed in an upper room called the
"hall," where Mr. Mitchell kept the chronometers, where the family
sewing was done, and where the larger part of the books were kept,--a
beautiful room, overlooking "the square," and a great gathering-place
for all their young friends. When the piano was put in place, the sisters
awaited the coming of the parents. Maria stationed herself at the foot of
the stairs, ready to meet them as they entered the front door; another,
half-way between, was to give the signal to a third, who was seated at
the piano. The footsteps were heard at the door, the signal was given; a
lively tune was started, and Maria confronted the parents as they
entered.
"What's that?" was the exclamation.
"Well," said Maria, soothingly, "we've had the piano brought over."
"Why, of all things!" exclaimed the mother.
The father laid down his hat, walked immediately upstairs, entered the
hall, and said, "Come, daughter, play something lively!"

So that was all.
But that was not all for Mr. Mitchell; he had broken the rules accepted
by the Friends, and it was necessary for some notice to be taken of