He once told an amusing story of the result of one of his recommendations. A young man of his acquaintance was in negotiation for a school in the wilds of New Jersey, and asked the poet for a reference. This the applicant readily obtained, and confidently handed to the school committee who were interviewing him. “The members passed the letter along from one to another and looked wise,” said Whittier, adding with his inimitable silent laughter, “Not a man of them could read. But the letter answered the purpose; W—— got his school!”
One evening as he sat talking in the garden room, gazing into his open fire, it furnished him an apt illustration of the uselessness of giving people advice contrary to the trend of their own inclinations. He asserted that one’s own experience is of no use as a warning to others. He declared that should one try to warn another against the danger of being burned, the other would question:
“You said you put your hand into the fire?”
“Yes,” the adviser would respond.
“And you got it burned?”
“Yes, I did,” the first would answer, still more decidedly.
“Very well,” the adventurer would retort. “Now I want to put my hand in and see how it feels.”