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diff --git a/40529-8.txt b/40529-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6ff49df..0000000 --- a/40529-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4122 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Complete Works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, -Appendix to Volume XII: Tales, Sketches, and other Papers by Nathaniel Hawthorne with a Biographical Sketch by George Parsons Lathrop, by George Parsons Lathrop - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Complete Works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Appendix to Volume XII: Tales, Sketches, and other Papers by Nathaniel Hawthorne with a Biographical Sketch by George Parsons Lathrop - Biographical Sketch of Nathaniel Hawthorne - -Author: George Parsons Lathrop - -Release Date: August 18, 2012 [EBook #40529] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKS OF HAWTHORNE, APPEND. TO VOL XII *** - - - - -Produced by Jana Srna, Eleni Christofaki, Richard Lammers, -Eric Eldred and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team -at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's note - -This text is an appendix to volume 12 of a 13-volume set of the complete -works of Nathaniel Hawthorne entitled: - - The Complete Works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, with Introductory Notes - by George Parsons Lathrop and illustrated with Etchings by Blum, - Church, Dielman, Gifford, Shirlaw, and Turner in Thirteen Volumes, - Volume XII. - - Tales, Sketches, and other Papers by Nathaniel Hawthorne with a - Biographical Sketch by George Parsons Lathrop. - - BOSTON HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY New York: 11 East Seventeenth - Street The Riverside Press, Cambridge 1883. - -Some illustrations of this work have been moved from the original -sequence to enable the contents to continue without interruption. -Punctuation inconsistencies have been silently corrected. A list of -other corrections made can be found at the end of the book. - - Mark up: _italics_ - +bold+ - - - - - +Riverside Edition+ - - THE COMPLETE WORKS OF NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE, WITH INTRODUCTORY NOTES BY - GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP - - AND ILLUSTRATED WITH - - _Etchings by Blum, Church, Dielman, Gifford, Shirlaw, and Turner_ - - IN THIRTEEN VOLUMES - - VOLUME XII. - - [Illustration] - - - - - TALES, SKETCHES, AND OTHER PAPERS - - BY - - NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE - - _WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH_ BY GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP - - [Illustration] - - BOSTON HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY New York: 11 East Seventeenth - Street +The Riverside Press, Cambridge+ 1883 - - - - - Copyright, 1850, 1852, 1862, 1864, and 1876, BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE, - TICKNOR & FIELDS, AND JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO. - - Copyright, 1878, BY ROSE HAWTHORNE LATHROP. - - Copyright, 1883, BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. - - _All rights reserved._ - - - _The Riverside Press, Cambridge:_ Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. - Houghton & Co. - - - - -BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. - -I. - - -THE lives of great men are written gradually. It often takes as long to -construct a true biography as it took the person who is the subject of -it to complete his career; and when the work is done, it is found to -consist of many volumes, produced by a variety of authors. We receive -views from different observers, and by putting them together are able to -form our own estimate. What the man really was not even himself could -know; much less can we. Hence all that we accomplish, in any case, is to -approximate to the reality. While we flatter ourselves that we have -imprinted on our minds an exact image of the individual, we actually -secure nothing but a typical likeness. This likeness, however, is -amplified and strengthened by successive efforts to paint a correct -portrait. If the faces of people belonging to several generations of a -family be photographed upon one plate, they combine to form a single -distinct countenance, which shows a general resemblance to them all: in -somewhat the same way, every sketch of a distinguished man helps to fix -the lines of that typical semblance of him which is all that the world -can hope to preserve. - -This principle applies to the case of Hawthorne, notwithstanding that -the details of his career are comparatively few, and must be marshalled -in much the same way each time that it is attempted to review them. The -veritable history of his life would be the history of his mental -development, recording, like Wordsworth's "Prelude," the growth of a -poet's mind; and on glancing back over it he too might have said, in -Wordsworth's phrases:-- - - "Wisdom and spirit of the universe! - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - By day or star-light thus from my first dawn - Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me - The passions that build up the human soul; - Not with the mean and vulgar works of man, - But with high objects, with enduring things-- - With life and nature, purifying thus - The elements of feeling and of thought, - And sanctifying by such discipline - Both pain and fear, until we recognize - A grandeur in the beatings of the heart." - -But a record of that kind, except where an autobiography exists, can be -had only by indirect means. We must resort to tracing the outward facts -of the life, and must try to infer the interior relations. - -Nathaniel Hawthorne was born on the Fourth of July, 1804, at Salem, -Massachusetts, in a house numbered twenty-one, Union Street. The house -is still standing, although somewhat reduced in size and still more -reduced in circumstances. The character of the neighborhood has declined -very much since the period when Hawthorne involuntarily became a -resident there. As the building stands to-day it makes the impression -simply of an exceedingly plain, exceedingly old-fashioned, solid, -comfortable abode, which in its prime must have been regarded as proof -of a sufficient but modest prosperity on the part of the occupant. It is -clapboarded, is two stories high, and has a gambrel roof, immediately -beneath which is a large garret that doubtless served the boy-child well -as a place for play and a stimulant for the sense of mystery. A single -massive chimney, rising from the centre, emphasizes by its style the -antiquity of the building, and has the air of holding it together. The -cobble-stoned street in front is narrow, and although it runs from the -house towards the water-side, where once an extensive commerce was -carried on, and debouches not far from the Custom House where Hawthorne -in middle life found plenty of occupation as Surveyor, it is now silent -and deserted. - -He was the second of three children born to Nathaniel Hathorne, -sea-captain, and Elizabeth Clarke Manning. The eldest was Elizabeth -Manning Hathorne, who came into the world March 7, 1802; the last was -Maria Louisa, born January 9, 1808, and lost in the steamer Henry Clay, -which was burned on the Hudson River, July 27, 1852. Elizabeth survived -all the members of the family, dying on the 1st of January, 1883, when -almost eighty-one years old, at Montserrat, a hamlet in the township of -Beverly, near Salem. In early manhood, certainly at about the time when -he began to publish, the young Nathaniel changed the spelling of his -surname to Hawthorne; an alteration also adopted by his sisters. This is -believed to have been merely a return to a mode of spelling practised by -the English progenitors of the line, although none of the American -ancestors had sanctioned it. - -"The fact that he was born in Salem," writes Dr. George B. Loring, who -knew him as a fellow-townsman, "may not amount to much to other people, -but it amounted to a great deal to him. The sturdy and defiant spirit of -his progenitor, who first landed on these shores, found a congenial -abode among the people of Naumkeag, after having vainly endeavored to -accommodate itself to the more imposing ecclesiasticism of Winthrop and -his colony at Trimountain, and of Endicott at his new home. He was a -stern Separatist ... but he was also a warrior, a politician, a legal -adviser, a merchant, an orator with persuasive speech.... He had great -powers of mind and body, and forms a conspicuous figure in that imposing -and heroic group which stands around the cradle of New England. The -generations of the family that followed took active and prominent part -in the manly adventures which marked our entire colonial period.... It -was among the family traditions gathered from the Indian wars, the -tragic and awful spectre of the witchcraft delusion, the wild life of -the privateer, that he [Nathaniel] first saw the light." - -The progenitor here referred to is William Hathorne, who came to America -with John Winthrop in 1630. He had grants of land in Dorchester, but was -considered so desirable a citizen that the town of Salem offered him -other lands if he would settle there; which he did. It has not been -ascertained from what place William Hathorne originally came. His elder -brother Robert is known to have written to him in 1653 from the village -of Bray, in Berkshire, England; but Nathaniel Hawthorne says in the -"American Note-Books" that William was a younger brother of a family -having for its seat a place called Wigcastle, in Wiltshire. He became, -however, a person of note and of great usefulness in the community with -which he cast his lot, in the new England. Hathorne Street in Salem -perpetuates his name to-day, as Lathrop Street does that of Captain -Thomas Lathrop, who commanded one of the companies of Essex militia, -when John Hathorne was quartermaster of the forces; Thomas Lathrop, who -marched his men to Deerfield in 1675, to protect frontier inhabitants -from the Indians, and perished with his whole troop, in the massacre at -Bloody Brook. The year after that, William Hathorne also took the field -against the Indians, in Maine, and conducted a highly successful -campaign there, under great hardships. He had been the captain of the -first military organization in Salem, and rose to be major. He served -for a number of years as deputy in the Great and General Court; was a -tax-collector, a magistrate, and a bold advocate of colonial -self-government. Although opposed to religious persecution, as a -magistrate he inflicted cruelties on the Quakers, causing a woman on one -occasion to be whipped through Salem, Boston, and Dedham. "The figure of -that first ancestor," Hawthorne wrote in "The Custom House," "invested -by family tradition with a dim and dusky grandeur, was present to my -boyish imagination as far back as I can remember;" so that it is by no -means idle to reckon the history of his own family as among the -important elements influencing the bent of his genius. John, the son of -William, was likewise a public character; he, too, became a -representative, a member of the Governor's council, a magistrate and a -military officer, and saw active service as a soldier in the expedition -which he headed against St. John, in 1696. But he is chiefly remembered -as the judge who presided over the witchcraft trials and displayed great -harshness and bigotry in his treatment of the prisoners. His -descendants did not retain the position in public affairs which had been -held by his father and himself; and for the most part they were -sea-faring men. One of them, indeed, Daniel--the grandfather of -Nathaniel--figured as a privateer captain in the Revolution, fighting -one battle with a British troop-ship off the coast of Portugal, in which -he was wounded; but the rest led the obscure though hardy and -semi-romantic lives of maritime traders sailing to Africa, India, or -Brazil. The privateersman had among his eight children three boys, one -of whom, Nathaniel, was the father of the author, and died of fever in -Surinam, in the spring of 1808, at the age of thirty-three. - - - HATHORNE FAMILY OF SALEM, MASSACHUSETTS. - - Hathorne = - | - +-------------------+-------------+---------+-----+ - | | | | - Robert Hathorne William, came in the = Anne | John Hathorne of = Sarah - writes to his Arbella, with John | | Salem and Lynn, | - brother, William, Winthrop 1630; first | | died in Lynn | - from Bray (Berks), of Dorchester; | | 12 Dec. 1676. | - 1 April, 1653. afterwards of Salem; | | Will sworn to | - deputy, speaker of | | 25-1-1677. | - the House, | | | - Assistant, Major | | | - commanding in | | | - Indian Wars; ob. | | | - 1681 in 74th year of | | | - his age. Will proved | | | - 28 June, 1681. | | | - | | | - +--------------------------------------+ | | - | | | - | +-------------------+ | - | | | - | Elizabeth = Capt. Richard Davenport | - | (?) killed by lightning | - | 15 July, 1665. | - | | - | +-------+-----------+---+--------------+-+---+---------------+ - | | | | | | | | | - | | John | William b. in | | Phebe b. in Lynn | - | | bapt. at Salem | Lynn ---- Nov. | | 22 March, 1665. | - | | 18 Oct. 1646. | 1651; d. 14 Sept.| | | - | | | 1676. | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | Sarah bapt. at Salem | | Ebenezer b. in Lynn | - | 2 June, 1644. | | ---- March, 1656. | - | Priscilla | | - | bapt. at Salem | | - | 22 July, 1649; Mary b. in Lynn | - | m. 15 Jan. 1669 ---- July 1653; | - | to Jonathan Shore. d. 31 Dec. 1676. | - | | - | Nathaniel - | named in his - | father's will. - +-+--------------+--+------+---------------+-+-----+-----------+ - | | | | | | | | - ---- = ---- | | Nathaniel | | William = Sarah | - (dau.) | Helwise | | b. 11 Aug. 1639. | | b. 1 Apr. | - | | | | | 1645; | - Gervice Helwise | | | | d. 14 July, | - in "Urop" | | | | 1676. Captain. | - according | | | | | - to his gr. | | | | | - father's will. | | | | | - | | | Anna born | - | | | 12 Dec. 1643; | - | | | m. 27 Jan. 1664-5 | - | | | to Joseph Porter. | - | Eleazer b. 1 Aug. 1637; | +-----------+ - | m. 28-6-1663, Abigail, | | - | dau. of Capt. George | Elizabeth - | Curwen, of Salem. | b. 22 July, 1649; - | | m. 20-9-1672 - Sarah born 11 March, 1644-5; | to Israel Porter. - m. 13 April, 1665, to Joseph | - Coker of Newbury, and died | - 3 Feb'y, 1688. | - +-------------------------+ - | - John b. 4 Aug. 1641 = Ruth dau. of Lieut. - representative; Assistant; | George Gardner; - Judge in Witchcraft cases; | married 22-1-1674-5. - Judge Sup. Court 1702-15; | - Colonel; died 10 May, | - 1717; will proved 27 June, | - 1717. | - | - +--------------------+--------+-------+----+--+-------------------+ - | | | | | | - John b. 10 Jan'y 1675. | | | | | - | | | Ruth, = James Pitman | - Nathaniel = Ebenezer | bapt. | - b. 25 Nov.| bapt. Mch. 1685. | Sept. 1694. | - 1678. | | Benjamin - +--------+ | (named in his - | | father's will). - John mentioned | - in his gr. father's will. | - +-------------------+ - | - Joseph bapt. June, 1691. = Sara dau. of Capt. W. - Will proved 15 July, 1762. | Bowditch b. 10 Jan'y, - | 1695-6. - | - +---------------------+-------+---+-------------------+---------+--+ - | | | | | | | - William = Mary dau. of | | Sarah = Daniel Chever | | | - born 20 John Touzell | | bapt. | | | - Feb'y, m. 29 March, | | 27 Jan. 1722. | | | - 1715-1716. 1741. | | Ebenezer | | - Joseph | bapt. 26 Dec. 1725. | | - bapt. 4th | +-----------------+ | - May, 1718. | | +---------------+ - | | | - | | Ruth = David Ropes - | | m. 30 Sept. - +---------------------+ | 1752. - | | - John bapt. = Susanna Touzell | - 22 May, 1719, | will pro. 7 Sept. | - d. 6 Feb'y, 1750. | 1802. | - | | - +--John } | - | } ment. in will | - +--Susanna} of gr. father. | - | - Daniel, a mariner; = Rachel Phelps - adm. gr. to wid. | - 4 May, 1796. | - | - +----------------+----+--------+---------+---+------+---+ - | | | | | | | | - Daniel | Eunice | | | Ruth b. | - b. 23 June, 1759; | b. 4 Oct. | | | 20 Jan. | - d. 13 Mar. 1763. | 1766. | | | 1778; d. | - +----------------+ Ob. s. p. | | | 26 July, | - | Daniel | | 1847. | - Sarah = John Crowninshield. b. 25 July, | | | - b. 11 May 1763. 1768. | | Rachel = Simon - +-------------------------------+ | | Forrester. - | | | - Judith = George Archer | -- - b. 17 Apr. 1770. m. 2 March, 1792. | - | - +-------------------------------------------+ - | - Nathaniel, Sea Captain; b. 19 May, 1775; = Elizabeth Clarke Manning - adm. gr. to his wid. 19 Apr. 1808; | b. 6 Sept. 1780; - died in Surinam. | died 31 July, 1849. - | - +-----------------+-----------------+------------------+ - | | | - Elizabeth Manning | Maria Louisa - born 7 March, 1802; | b. 9 Jan'y, 1808; - died 1 Jan'y, 1883. | lost in the steamer - | Henry Clay, burned - | on the Hudson River - | 27 July, 1852. - | - +NATHANIEL+ b. 4 July, 1804; = Sophia, dau. of Doc. Nathl. Peabody, - d. at Plymouth, N. H. of Salem; b. 21 Sept. 1809; mar. in - 19 May, 1864. Boston July, 1842. - Buried at Concord, Mass. - 23 May, 1864. - He changed his surname to - Hawthorne. - -The founders of the American branch were men of independent character, -proud, active, energetic, capable of extreme sternness and endowed with -passionate natures, no doubt. But they were men of affairs; they touched -the world on the practical side, and, even during the decline of the -family fortunes, continued to do so. All at once, in the personality of -the younger Nathaniel Hawthorne, this energy which persisted in them -reversed its direction, and found a new outlet through the channel of -literary expression. We must suppose that he included among his own -characteristics all those of his predecessors; their innate force, their -endurance, their capacity for impassioned feeling; but in him these -elements were fused by a finer prevailing quality, and held in firm -balance by his rare temperament. This must be borne in mind, if we would -understand the conjunction of opposite traits in him. It was one of his -principles to guard against being run away with by his imagination, and -to cultivate in practical affairs what he called "a morose common -sense." There has been attributed to him by some of those who knew him -a certain good-humored gruffness, which might be explained as a heritage -from the self-assertive vitality of his ancestors. While at Liverpool he -wrote to one of his intimates in this country, and in doing so made -reference to another acquaintance as a "wretch," to be away from whom -made exile endurable. The letter passed into the hands of the -acquaintance thus stigmatized long after Hawthorne was in his grave; but -he declared himself to be in no wise disturbed by it, because he knew -that the remark was not meant seriously, being only one of the -occasional explosions of a "sea-dog" forcefulness, which had come into -the writer's blood from his skipper forefathers. Hawthorne had, in fact, -parted on friendly terms from the gentleman of whom he thus wrote. On -the other hand we have the traits of sensitiveness, great delicacy, -reserve and reverie, drawn from both his father and his mother. Captain -Hathorne had been a man of fine presence, handsome, kindly, and rather -silent; a reader, likewise; and his son's resemblance to him was so -marked that a strange sailor stopped Hawthorne on the steps of the Salem -Custom House, many years afterward, to ask him if he were not a son or -nephew of the Captain, whom he had known. - -His mother belonged to an excellent family, the Mannings, of English -stock, settled in Salem and Ipswich ever since 1680, and still well -represented in the former place. She, too, was a very reserved person; -had a stately, aristocratic manner; is remembered as possessing a -peculiar and striking beauty. Her education was of that simple, austere, -but judicious and perfected kind that--without taking any very wide -range--gave to New England women in the earlier part of this century a -sedate freedom and a cultivated judgment, which all the assumed -improvements in pedagogy and the general relations of men and women -since then have hardly surpassed. She was a pious woman, a sincere and -devoted wife, a mother whose teachings could not fail to impress upon -her children a bias towards the best things in life. Nathaniel's sister -Elizabeth, although a recluse to the end of her days, and wholly unknown -to the public, gave in her own case evidence indisputable of the fine -influences which had moulded her own childhood and that of her brother. -She showed a quiet, unspoiled, and ardent love of Nature, and was to the -last not only an assiduous reader of books but also a very discriminating -one. The range of her reading was very wide, but she never made any more -display of it than Hawthorne did of his. An intuitive judgment of -character was hers, which was really startling at times: merely from the -perusal of a book or the inspection of a portrait, she would arrive at -accurate estimates of character which revealed a power of facile and -comprehensive insight; and her letters, even in old age, flowed -spontaneously into utterance of the same finished kind that distinguished -Nathaniel Hawthorne's epistolary style. How fresh and various, too, was -her interest in the affairs of the world! For many years she had not -gone farther from her secluded abode in a farm-house at Montserrat, than -to Beverly or Salem; yet I remember that, only six months before her -death, she wrote a letter to her niece, a large part of which was -devoted to the campaign of the English in Egypt, then progressing: with -a lively and clear comprehension she discussed the difficulties of the -situation, and expressed the utmost concern for the success of the -English army, at the same time that she laughed at herself for -displaying, as an old woman, so much anxiety about the matter. Now, a -mother who could bring up her daughter in such a way as to make all this -possible and natural, must be given much credit for her share in -developing an illustrious son. Let us not forget that it was to his -mother that Goethe owed in good measure the foundation of his greatness. -Mrs. Hathorne had large, very luminous gray eyes, which were reproduced -in her son's; so that, on both sides, his parentage entitled him to the -impressive personal appearance which distinguished him. In mature life -he became somewhat estranged from her, but their mutual love was -presumably suspended only for a time, and he was with her at her death, -in 1849. She lived long enough to see him famous as the author of -"Twice-Told Tales"; but "The Scarlet Letter" had not been written when -she died. - -She, as well as her husband, was one of a family of eight brothers and -sisters; these were the children of Richard Manning. Two of the -brothers, Richard and Robert, were living in Salem when she was left a -widow; Robert being eminent in New England at that time as a -horticulturist. She was without resources, other than her husband's -earnings, and Robert undertook to provide for her. Accordingly, she -removed with her young family to the Manning homestead on Herbert -Street, the next street east of Union Street, where Nathaniel was born. -This homestead stood upon a piece of land running through to Union -Street, and adjoining the garden attached to Hawthorne's birthplace. At -that time Dr. Nathaniel Peabody, a physician, occupied a house in a -brick block on the opposite side of Union Street; and there in 1809, -September 21st, was born his daughter, Sophia A. Peabody, who afterwards -became Hawthorne's wife. Her birthplace, therefore, was but a few rods -distant from that of her future husband. Sophia Peabody's eldest sister, -Mary, who married Horace Mann, noted as an educator and an abolitionist, -remembers the child Nathaniel, who was then about five years old. He -used to make his appearance in the garden of the Herbert Street mansion, -running and dancing about there at play, a vivacious, golden-haired boy. -The next oldest sister, who was the first of this family to make the -acquaintance of the young author some thirty years later on, was Miss -Elizabeth P. Peabody, who has taken an important part in developing the -Kindergarten in America. There were plenty of books in the Manning -house, and Nathaniel very soon got at them. Among the authors whom he -earliest came to know were Shakespeare, Milton, Pope, Thomson, and -Rousseau. The "Castle of Indolence" was one of his favorite volumes. -Subsequently, he read the whole of the "Newgate Calendar," and became -intensely absorbed in Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," which undoubtedly -left very deep impressions upon him, traceable in the various allusions -to it scattered through his works. He also made himself familiar with -Spenser's "Faërie Queen," Froissart's "Chronicles," and Clarendon's -"History of the Rebellion." - -"Being a healthy boy, with strong out-of-door instincts planted in him -by inheritance from his sea-faring sire, it might have been that he -would not have been brought so early to an intimacy with books, but for -an accident similar to that which played a part in the boyhoods of -Scott and Dickens. When he was nine years old, he was struck on the foot -by a ball, and made seriously lame. The earliest fragment of his writing -now extant is a letter to his uncle Robert Manning, at that time in -Raymond, Maine, written from Salem, December 9, 1813. It announces that -the foot is no better, and that a new doctor is to be sent for. 'Maybe,' -the boy writes, 'he will do me some good, for Dr. B---- has not, and I -don't know as Dr. K---- will.' He adds that it is now four weeks since -he has been to school, 'and I don't know but it will be four weeks -longer.'... But the trouble was destined to last much longer than even -the young seer had projected his gaze. There was some threat of -deformity, and it was not until he was nearly twelve that he became -quite well. Meantime, his kind schoolmaster, Dr. Worcester, ... came to -hear him his lessons at home. The good pedagogue does not figure after -this in Hawthorne's history; but a copy of Worcester's Dictionary still -exists and is in present use, which bears in a tremulous writing on the -fly-leaf the legend: 'Nathaniel Hawthorne Esq., with the respects of J. -E. Worcester.' For a long time, in the worst of his lameness, the gentle -boy was forced to lie prostrate, and choosing the floor for his couch, -he would read there all day long. He was extremely fond of cats--a taste -which he kept through life; and during this illness, forced to odd -resorts for amusement, he knitted a pair of socks for the cat who -reigned in the household at the time. When tired of reading, he -constructed houses of books for the same feline pet, building walls for -her to leap, and perhaps erecting triumphal arches for her to pass -under."[1] - -The lexicographer, Dr. Worcester, was then living at Salem in charge of -a school, which he kept for a few years; and it was with him that -Hawthorne was carrying on his primary studies. He also went to -dancing-school, was fond of fishing as well as of taking long walks, and -doubtless engaged in the sundry occupations and sports, neither more nor -less extraordinary than these, common to lads of his age. He already -displayed a tendency towards dry humor. As he brought home from school -frequent reports of having had a bout at fisticuffs with another pupil -named John Knights, his sister Elizabeth asked him: "Why do you fight -with John Knights so often?" "I can't help it," he answered: "John -Knights is a boy of very quarrelsome disposition." - -But all this time an interior growth, of which we can have no direct -account, was proceeding in his mind. The loss of the father whom he had -had so little chance to see and know and be fondled by, no doubt -produced a profound effect upon him. While still a very young child he -would rouse himself from long broodings, to exclaim with an impressive -shaking of the head: "There, mother! I is going away to sea some time; -and I'll never come back again!" The thought of that absent one, whose -barque had glided out of Salem harbor bound upon a terrestrial voyage, -but had carried him softly away to the unseen world, must have been -incessantly with the boy; and it would naturally melt into what he heard -of the strange, shadowy history of his ancestors, and mix itself with -the ever-present hush of settled grief in his mother's dwelling, and -blend with his unconscious observations of the old town in which he -lived. Salem then was much younger in time, but much older to the eye, -than it is now. In "Alice Doane's Appeal" he has sketched a rapid -bird's-eye view of it as it appeared to him when he was a young man. -Describing his approach with his sisters to Witch Hill, he says: "We ... -began to ascend a hill which at a distance, by its dark slope and the -even line of its summit, resembled a green rampart along the road; ... -but, strange to tell, though the whole slope and summit were of a -peculiarly deep green, scarce a blade of grass was visible from the base -upward. This deceitful verdure was occasioned by a plentiful crop of -'wood-wax,' which wears the same dark and gloomy green throughout the -summer, except at one short period, when it puts forth a profusion of -yellow blossoms. At that season, to a distant spectator the hill appears -absolutely overlaid with gold, or covered with a glory of sunshine even -under a clouded sky." This wood-wax, it may be said, is a weed which -grows nowhere but in Essex County, and, having been native in England, -was undoubtedly brought over by the Pilgrims. He goes on: "There are few -such prospects of town and village, woodland and cultivated field, -steeples and country-seats, as we beheld from this unhappy spot.... -Before us lay our native town, extending from the foot of the hill to -the harbor, level as a chess-board, embraced by two arms of the sea, and -filling the whole peninsula with a close assemblage of wooden roofs, -overtopped by many a spire and intermixed with frequent heaps of -verdure.... Retaining these portions of the scene, and also the peaceful -glory and tender gloom of the declining sun, we threw in imagination a -deep veil of forest over the land, and pictured a few scattered villages -here and there and this old town itself a village, as when the prince of -Hell bore sway there. The idea thus gained of its former aspect, its -quaint edifices standing far apart with peaked roofs and projecting -stories, and its single meeting-house pointing up a tall spire in the -midst; the vision, in short, of the town in 1692, served to introduce a -wondrous tale." There were in fact several old houses of the kind here -described still extant during Hawthorne's boyhood, and he went every -Sunday to service in the First Church, in whose congregation his -forefathers had held a pew for a hundred and seventy years. It is easy -to see how some of the materials for "The House of the Seven Gables" and -"The Scarlet Letter" were already depositing themselves in the form of -indelible recollections and suggestions taken from his surroundings. - -Oppressed by her great sorrow, his mother had shut herself away, after -her husband's death, from all society except that of her immediate -relatives. This was perhaps not a very extraordinary circumstance, nor -one that need be construed as denoting a morbid disposition; but it was -one which must have distinctly affected the tone of her son's -meditations. In 1818, when he was fourteen years old, she retired to a -still deeper seclusion, in Maine; but the occasion of this was simply -that her brother Robert, having purchased the seven-mile-square township -of Raymond, in that State, had built a house there, intending to found a -new home. The year that Hawthorne passed in that spot, amid the breezy -life of the forest, fishing and shooting, watching the traits and -customs of lumber-men and country-folk, and drinking in the tonic of a -companionship with untamed nature, was to him a happy and profitable -one. "We are all very well," he wrote thence to his Uncle Robert, in -May, 1819: "The fences are all finished, and the garden is laid out and -planted.... I have shot a partridge and a henhawk, and caught eighteen -large trout out of our brook. I am sorry you intend to send me to school -again." He had been to the place before, probably for short visits, when -his Uncle Richard was staying there, and his memories of it were always -agreeable ones. To Mr. James T. Fields, he said in 1863: "I lived in -Maine like a bird of the air, so perfect was the freedom I enjoyed. But -it was there I first got my cursed habits of solitude." "During the -moonlight nights of winter he would skate until midnight all alone upon -Sebago Lake, with the deep shadows of the icy hills on either hand. When -he found himself far away from his home and weary with the exercise of -skating, he would sometimes take refuge in a log-cabin, where half a -tree would be burning on the broad hearth. He would sit in the ample -chimney, and look at the stars through the great aperture through which -the flames went roaring up. 'Ah,' he said, 'how well I recall the summer -days, also, when with my gun I roamed through the woods of Maine!'"[2] - -Hawthorne at this time had an intention of following the example of his -father and grandfather, and going to sea; but this was frustrated by the -course of events. His mother, it is probable, would strongly have -objected to it. In a boyish journal kept while he was at Raymond he -mentions a gentleman having come with a boat to take one or two persons -out on "the Great Pond," and adds: "He was kind enough to say that I -might go (with my mother's consent), which she gave after much coaxing. -Since the loss of my father she dreads to have any one belonging to her -go upon the water." And again: "A young man named Henry Jackson, Jr., -was drowned two days ago, up in Crooked River.... I read one of the -Psalms to my mother this morning, and it plainly declares twenty-six -times that 'God's mercy endureth forever.'... Mother is sad; says she -shall not consent any more to my swimming in the mill-pond with the -boys, fearing that in sport my mouth might get kicked open, and then -sorrow for a dead son be added to that for a dead father, which she says -would break her heart. I love to swim, but I shall not disobey my -mother." This same journal, which seems to have laid the basis of his -life-long habit of keeping note-books, was begun at the suggestion of -Mr. Richard Manning, who gave him a blank-book, with advice that he -should use it for recording his thoughts, "as the best means of his -securing for mature years command of thought and language." In it were -made a number of entries which testify plainly to his keenness of -observation both of people and scenery, to his sense of humor and his -shrewdness. Here are a few:-- - -"Swapped pocket-knives with Robinson Cook yesterday. Jacob Dingley says -that he cheated me, but I think not, for I cut a fishing-pole this -morning and did it well; besides, he is a Quaker, and they never cheat." - -"This morning the bucket got off the chain, and dropped back into the -well. I wanted to go down on the stones and get it. Mother would not -consent, for fear the well might cave in, but hired Samuel Shaw to go -down. In the goodness of her heart, she thought the son of old Mrs. Shaw -not quite so good as the son of the Widow Hathorne." - -Of a trout that he saw caught by some men:--"This trout had a -droll-looking hooked nose, and they tried to make me believe that, if -the line had been in my hands, I should have been obliged to let go, or -have been pulled out of the boat. They are men, and have a right to say -so. I am a boy, and have a right to think differently." - -"We could see the White Hills to the northwest, though Mr. Little said -they were eighty miles away; and grand old Rattlesnake to the northeast, -in its immense jacket of green oak, looked more inviting than I had ever -seen it; while Frye's Island, with its close growth of great trees -growing to the very edge of the water, looked like a monstrous green -raft, floating to the southeastward. Whichever way the eye turned, -something charming appeared." - -The mental clearness, the sharpness of vision, and the competence of the -language in this early note-book are remarkable, considering the youth -and inexperience of the writer; and there is one sketch of "a -solemn-faced old horse" at the grist-mill, which exhibits a delightful -boyish humor with a dash of pathos in it, and at the same time is the -first instance on record of a mild approach by Hawthorne to the writing -of fiction:-- - -"He had brought for his owner some bags of corn to be ground, who, after -carrying them into the mill, walked up to Uncle Richard's store, leaving -his half-starved animal in the cold wind with nothing to eat, while the -corn was being turned into meal. I felt sorry, and, nobody being near, -thought it best to have a talk with the old nag, and said, 'Good -morning, Mr. Horse, how are you to-day?' 'Good morning, youngster,' said -he, just as plain as a horse can speak; and then said, 'I am almost -dead, and I wish I was quite. I am hungry, have had no breakfast, and -must stand here tied by the head while they are grinding the corn, and -until master drinks two or three glasses of rum at the store, then drag -the meal and him up the Ben Ham Hill home, and am now so weak that I can -hardly stand. Oh dear, I am in a bad way;' and the old creature cried. I -almost cried myself. Just then the miller went down-stairs to the -meal-trough; I heard his feet on the steps, and not thinking much what I -was doing, ran into the mill, and, taking the four-quart toll-dish -nearly full of corn out of the hopper, carried it out, and poured it -into the trough before the horse, and placed the dish back before the -miller came up from below. When I got out, the horse was laughing, but -he had to eat slowly, because the bits were in his mouth. I told him -that I was sorry, but did not know how to take them out, and should not -dare to if I did.... At last the horse winked and stuck out his lip ever -so far, and then said, 'The last kernel is gone;' then he laughed a -little, then shook one ear, then the other; then he shut his eyes. I -jumped up and said: 'How do you feel, old fellow; any better?' He opened -his eyes, and looking at me kindly answered, 'Very much,' and then blew -his nose exceedingly loud, but he did not wipe it. Perhaps he had no -wiper. I then asked him if his master whipped him much. He answered, -'Not much lately. He used to till my hide got hardened, but now he has a -white-oak goad-stick with an iron brad in its end, with which he jabs my -hind-quarters and hurts me awfully.'... The goad with the iron brad was -in the wagon, and snatching it out I struck the end against a stone, and -the stabber flew into the mill-pond. 'There,' says I, 'old colt,' as I -threw the goad back into the wagon, 'he won't harpoon you again with -_that_ iron.' The poor old brute understood well enough what I said, -for I looked him in the eye and spoke horse language." - -Mother and uncles could hardly have missed observing in him many tokens -of a gifted intelligence and an uncommon individuality. The perception -of these, added to Mrs. Hawthorne's dread of the sea, may have led to -the decision which was taken to send him to college. In 1819 he went -back to Salem, to continue his schooling; and one year later, March 7, -1820, wrote to his mother, who was still at Raymond: "I have left -school, and have begun to fit for College, under Benjamin L. Oliver, -Lawyer. So you are in great danger of having one learned man in your -family.... Shall you want me to be a Minister, Doctor, or Lawyer? A -minister I will not be." Miss E. P. Peabody remembers another letter of -his, in which he touched the same problem, thus: "I do not want to be a -doctor and live by men's diseases, nor a minister to live by their sins, -nor a lawyer and live by their quarrels. So I don't see that there is -anything left but for me to be an author. How would you like some day to -see a whole shelf full of books written by your son, with 'Hathorne's -Works' printed on the backs?" There appears to have been but little -difficulty for him in settling the problem of his future occupation. -During part of August and September he amused himself by writing three -numbers of a miniature weekly paper called "The Spectator;" and in -October we find that he had been composing poetry and sending it to his -sister Elizabeth, who was also exercising herself in verse. At this time -he was employed as a clerk, for a part of each day, in the office of -another uncle, William Manning, proprietor of a great line of stages -which then had extensive connections throughout New England; but he did -not find the task congenial. "No man," he informed his sister, "can be a -poet and a book-keeper at the same time;" from which one infers his -distinct belief that literature was his natural vocation. The idea of -remaining dependent for four years more on the bounty of his Uncle -Robert, who had so generously taken the place of a father in giving him -a support and education, oppressed him, and he even contemplated not -going to college; but go he finally did, taking up his residence at -Bowdoin with the class of 1821. - -The village of Brunswick, where Bowdoin College is situated, some thirty -miles from Raymond, stands on high ground beside the Androscoggin River, -which is there crossed by a bridge running zig-zag from bank to bank, -resting on various rocky ledges and producing a picturesque effect. The -village itself is ranged on two sides of a broad street, which meets the -river at right angles, and has a mall in the centre that, in Hawthorne's -time, was little more than a swamp. This street, then known as -"sixteen-rod road," from its width, continues in a straight line to -Casco Bay, only a few miles off; so that the new student was still near -the sea and had a good course for his walks. If Harvard fifty and even -twenty-five years ago had the look of a rural college, Bowdoin was by -comparison an academy in a wilderness. "If this institution," says -Hawthorne in "Fanshawe," where he describes it under the name of Harley -College, "did not offer all the advantages of elder and prouder -seminaries, its deficiencies were compensated to its students by the -inculcation of regular habits, and of a deep and awful sense of -religion, which seldom deserted them in their course through life. The -mild and gentle rule ... was more destructive to vice than a sterner -sway; and though youth is never without its follies, they have seldom -been more harmless than they were here." The local resources for -amusement or dissipation must have been very limited, and the demands of -the curriculum not very severe. Details of Hawthorne's four years' stay -at college are not forthcoming, otherwise than in small quantity. His -comrades who survived him never have been able to give any very vivid -picture of the life there, or to recall any anecdotes of Hawthorne: the -whole episode has slipped away, like a dream from which fragmentary -glimpses alone remain. By one of those unaccountable associations with -trifles, which outlast more important memories, Professor Calvin Stowe -(to whom the authoress of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was afterwards married) -remembers seeing Hawthorne, then a member of the class below him, -crossing the college-yard one stormy day, attired in a brass-buttoned -blue coat, with an umbrella over his head. The wind caught the umbrella -and turned it inside out; and what stamped the incident on Professor -Stowe's mind was the silent but terrible and consuming wrath with which -Hawthorne regarded the implement in its utterly subverted and useless -state, as he tried to rearrange it. Incidents of no greater moment and -the general effect of his presence seem to have created the belief among -his fellows that, beneath the bashful quietude of his exterior, was -stored a capability of exerting tremendous force in some form or other. -He was seventeen when he entered college,--tall, broad-chested, with -clear, lustrous gray eyes,[3] a fresh complexion, and long hair: his -classmates were so impressed with his masculine beauty, and perhaps with -a sense of occult power in him, that they nicknamed him Oberon. Although -unusually calm-tempered, however, he was quick to resent disrespectful -treatment (as he had been with John Knights), and his vigorous, athletic -frame made him a formidable adversary. In the same class with him were -Henry W. Longfellow; George Barrell Cheever, since famous as a divine, -and destined to make a great stir in Salem by a satire in verse called -"Deacon Giles's Distillery," which cost him a thirty days' imprisonment, -together with the loss of his pastorate; also John S. C. Abbott, the -writer of popular histories; and Horatio Bridge, afterwards Lieutenant -in the United States Navy, and now Commander. Bridge and Franklin -Pierce, who studied in the class above him, were his most intimate -friends. He boarded in a house which had a stairway on the outside, -ascending to the second story; he took part, I suppose, in the -"rope-pulls" and "hold-ins" between Freshmen and Sophomores, if those -customs were practised then; he was fined for card-playing and for -neglect of theme; entered the Athenæan Society, which had a library of -eight hundred volumes; tried to read Hume's "History of England," but -found it "abominably dull," and postponed the attempt; was fond of -whittling, and destroyed some of his furniture in gratifying that taste. -Such are the insignificant particulars to which we are confined in -attempting to form an idea of the externals of his college-life. Pierce -was chairman of the Athenæan Society, and also organized a military -company, which Hawthorne joined. In the Preface to "The Snow-Image" we -are given a glimpse of the simple amusements which occupied his leisure: -"While we were lads together at a country college, gathering blueberries -in study hours under those tall academic pines; or watching the great -logs as they tumbled along the current of the Androscoggin; or shooting -pigeons and gray squirrels in the woods; or bat-fowling in the -summer-twilight; or catching trouts in that shadowy little stream which, -I suppose, is still wandering riverward through the forest." He became -proficient in Latin. Longfellow was wont to recall how he would rise at -recitation, standing slightly sidewise--attitude indicative of his -ingrained shyness--and read from the Roman classics translations which -had a peculiar elegance and charm. In writing English, too, he won a -reputation, and Professor Newman was often so struck with the beauty of -his work in this kind that he would read them in the evening to his own -family. Professor Packard says: "His themes were written in the -sustained, finished style that gives to his mature productions an -inimitable charm. The recollection is very distinct of Hawthorne's -reluctant step and averted look, when he presented himself at the -professor's study and submitted a composition which no man in his class -could equal." - -Hawthorne always looked back with satisfaction to those simple and -placid days. In 1852 he revisited the scene where they were passed, in -order to be present at the semi-centennial anniversary of the founding -of the college. A letter, from Concord (October 13, 1852), to Lieutenant -Bridge, now for the first time published, contains the following -reference to that event:-- - -"I meant to have told you about my visit to Brunswick.... Only eight of -our classmates were present, and they were a set of dismal old fellows, -whose heads looked as if they had been out in a pretty copious shower of -snow. The whole intermediate quarter of a century vanished, and it -seemed to me as if they had undergone the miserable transformation in -the course of a single night--especially as I myself felt just about as -young as when I graduated. They flattered me with the assurance that -time had touched me tenderly; but alas! they were each a mirror in which -I beheld the reflection of my own age. I did not arrive till after the -public exercises were nearly over--and very luckily, too, for my praises -had been sounded by orator and poet, and of course my blushes would have -been quite oppressive." - -Hawthorne's rank in his class entitled him to a "part" at Commencement, -but the fact that he had not cultivated declamation debarred him from -that honor; and so he passed quietly away from the life of Bowdoin and -settled down to his career. "I have thought much upon the subject," he -wrote to his sister, just before graduation, "and have come to the -conclusion that I shall never make a distinguished figure in the world, -and all I hope or wish is to plod along with the multitude." But -declamation was not essential to his success, which was to be achieved -in anything but a declamatory fashion. - - - - -II. - - -In one sense it was all very simple, this childhood and youth and early -training of Hawthorne. We can see that the conditions were not -complicated and were quite homely. But the influence of good literature -had been at work upon the excellent mental substance derived from a -father who was fond of reading and a mother who had the plain elementary -virtues on which so much depends, and great purity of soul. The -composure and finish of style which he already had at command on going -to college were ripened amid the homely conditions aforesaid: there must -have been an atmosphere of culture in his home, unpretentious though the -mode of life there was. His sister, as I have mentioned, showed much the -same tone, the same commanding ease, in her writing. There existed a -dignity, a reserve, an instinctive refinement in this old-fashioned -household, which moved its members to appropriate the best means of -expression as by natural right. They appear to have treated the most -ordinary affairs of life with a quiet stateliness, as if human existence -were really a thing to be considered with respect, and with a frank -interest that might occasionally even admit of enthusiasm or strong -feeling with regard to an experience, although thousands of beings might -have passed through it before. Our new horizons, physically enlarged by -rapid travel, our omnifarious culture, our passion for obtaining a glaze -of cosmopolitanism to cover the common clay from which we are all -moulded, do not often yield us anything essentially better than the -narrow limits of the little world in which Hawthorne grew up. He was now -to go back to Salem, which he once spoke of as being apparently for him -"the inevitable centre of the universe;" and the conditions there were -not radically altered from what they had been before. We can form an -outline of him as he was then, or at most a water-color sketch -presenting the fresh hues of youth, the strong manly frame of the young -graduate, his fine deep-lighted eyes, and sensitively retiring ways. But -we have now to imagine the change that took place in him from the recent -college Senior to the maturing man; change that gradually transforms him -from the visionary outline of that earlier period to a solid reality of -flesh and blood, a virile and efficient person who still, while -developing, did not lose the delicate sensibility of his young prime. - -His family having reëstablished themselves in Salem, at the old Herbert -Street house, he settled himself with them, and stayed there until -December, 1828, meanwhile publishing "Fanshawe" anonymously. They then -moved to a smaller house on Dearborn Street, North Salem; but after four -years they again took up their abode in the Herbert Street homestead. -Hawthorne wrote industriously; first the "Seven Tales of my Native -Land," which he burned, and subsequently the sketches and stories which, -after appearing in current periodicals, were collected as "Twice-Told -Tales." In 1830 he took a carriage trip through parts of Connecticut. "I -meet with many marvellous adventures," was a part of his news on this -occasion, but they were in reality adventures of a very tame -description. He visited New York and New Hampshire and Nantucket, thus -extending slightly his knowledge of men and places. A great deal of -discursive reading was also accomplished. In 1836 he went to Boston to -edit for Mr. S. G. Goodrich "The American Magazine of Useful and -Entertaining Knowledge." It did not turn out to be either useful or -entertaining for the editor, who was to be paid but $500 a year for his -drudgery, and in fact received only a small part of that sum. Through -Goodrich, he became a copious contributor to "The Token," in the pages -of which his tales first came to be generally known; but he gave up the -magazine after a four months' misery of editorship, and sought refuge -once more in his native town. - -Salem was an isolated place, was not even joined to the outer world by -its present link of railroad with Boston, and afforded no very generous -diet for a young, vigorous, hungry intellect like that of Hawthorne. -Surroundings, however, cannot make a mind, though they may color its -processes. He proceeded to extract what he could from the material at -hand. "His mode of life at this period was fitted to nurture his -imagination, but must have put the endurance of his nerves to the -severest test. The statement that for several years 'he never saw the -sun' is entirely an error. In summer he was up shortly after sunrise, -and would go down to bathe in the sea; but it is true that he seldom -chose to walk in the town except at night, and it is said that he was -extremely fond of going to fires if they occurred after dark. The -morning was chiefly given to study, the afternoon to writing, and in the -evening he would take long walks, exploring the coast from Gloucester to -Marblehead and Lynn--a range of many miles.... Sometimes he took the day -for his rambles, wandering perhaps over Endicott's ancient Orchard Farm -and among the antique houses and grassy cellars of old Salem Village, -the witchcraft ground; or losing himself among the pines of Montserrat -and in the silence of the Great Pastures, or strolling along the beaches -to talk with old sailors and fishermen." "He had little communication -with even the members of his family. Frequently his meals were brought -and left at his locked door, and it was not often that the four inmates -of the old Herbert Street mansion met in family circle. He never read -his stories aloud to his mother and sisters, as might be imagined from -the picture which Mr. Fields draws of the young author reciting his new -productions to his listening family; though, when they met, he sometimes -read older literature to them. It was the custom in this household for -the members to remain very much by themselves: the three ladies were -perhaps nearly as rigorous recluses as himself; and, speaking of the -isolation which reigned among them, Hawthorne once said, 'We do not even -_live_ at our house!' But still the presence of this near and gentle -element is not to be underrated, as forming a very great compensation in -the cold and difficult morning of his life." Of self-reliant mind, -accustomed to solitude and fond of reading, it was not strange that they -should have fallen into these habits, which, however peculiarly they may -strike others, did not necessarily spring from a morbid disposition, and -never prevented the Hawthornes from according a kindly reception to -their friends. - -Nathaniel Hawthorne's own associates were not numerous. There was a good -society in the town, for Salem was not, strictly speaking, provincial, -but--aided in a degree by the separateness of its situation--retained -very much its old independence as a commercial capital. There were -people of wealth and cultivation, of good lineage in our simple domestic -kind, who made considerable display in their entertainments and were -addicted to impressive absences in Paris and London. Among these -Hawthorne did not show himself at all. His preference was for -individuals who had no pretensions whatever in the social way. Among his -friends was one William B. Pike, a carpenter's son, who, after -acquiring an ordinary public-school education without passing through -the higher grades, adopted his father's trade, became a Methodist -class-leader, secondly a disciple of Swedenborg, and at length a -successful politician, being appointed Collector of the port of Salem by -President Pierce. He is described as having "a strongly marked, -benignant face, indicative of intelligence and individuality. He was -gray at twenty, and always looked older than his years.... He had a keen -sense of the ludicrous, a vivid recollection of localities and -incidents, a quick apprehension of peculiarities and traits, and was a -most graphic and entertaining narrator."[4] As Mr. James has said: -"Hawthorne had a democratic strain in his composition, a relish for the -common stuff of human nature. He liked to fraternize with plain people, -to take them on their own terms." It was the most natural thing in the -world for him to fancy such a man as Pike is represented to have been. -His Society in college was the one which displayed a democratic -tendency; and, in addition to making friends with persons of this stamp, -men of some education and much innate "go," he had a taste for loitering -in taverns where he could observe character in the rough, without being -called upon to take an active share in talk. "Men," we are told, "who -did not meddle with him he loved, men who made no demands on him, who -offered him the repose of genial companionship. His life-long friends -were of this description, and his loyalty to them was chivalrous and -fearless, and so generous that when they differed from him on matters of -opinion he rose at once above the difference and adhered to them for -what they really were." Inevitably, such a basis for the selection of -companions, coupled with his extreme reserve, subjected him to -criticism; but when, in 1835, his former classmate, the Rev. George B. -Cheever, was thrown into jail on account of the satirical temperance -pamphlet which has already been referred to in this sketch, Hawthorne -emerged from his strict privacy, and daily visited the imprisoned -clergyman. He showed no especial love for his native place, and in -return it never made of him a popular idol. At this initial epoch of his -career as an author there probably did not exist that active ill-will -which his chapter on the Custom House afterwards engendered; he was in -fact too little known to be an object of malice or envy, and his humble -friendships could not be made the ground of unfavorable insinuations. -The town, however, was not congenial to him, and the profound retirement -in which he dwelt, the slow toil with scanty meed of praise or gold, and -the long waiting for recognition, doubtless weighed upon and preyed upon -him. - -To stop at that would be to make a superficial summary. His seclusion -was also of the highest utility to him, nay, almost indispensable to his -development; for his mind, which seemed to be only creeping, was making -long strides of growth in an original direction, unhindered by arbitrary -necessities or by factitious influences. - -Nevertheless, the process had gone on long enough; and it was well that -circumstances now occurred to bring it to a close, to establish new -relations, and draw him somewhat farther into the general circle of -human movement. Dr. Peabody, who has been spoken of on a preceding page -as living on the opposite side of Union Street from Hawthorne's -birthplace, had, during the vicissitudes of the young author's education -and journeys to and fro, changed his residence and gone to Boston. No -acquaintance had as yet sprung up between the two families which had -been domiciled so near together, but in 1832 the Peabodys returned to -Salem; and Miss Elizabeth, who followed in 1836, having been greatly -struck by the story of "The Gentle Boy," and excited as to the -authorship, set on foot an investigation which resulted in her meeting -Hawthorne. It is an evidence of the approachableness, after all, of his -secluded family, that Miss Louisa Hawthorne should have received her -readily and with graciousness. Miss Peabody, having formerly seen one of -Miss Hawthorne's letters, had supposed that she must be the writer of -the stories, under shelter of a masculine name. She now learned her -mistake. Months passed without any response being made to her advance. -But when the first volume of "Twice-Told Tales" was issued, Hawthorne -sent it to her with his compliments. Up to this time she had not -obtained even a glimpse of him anywhere; and, in acknowledging his gift, -she proposed that he should call at her father's house; but although -matters had proceeded thus far, and Dr. Peabody lived within three -minutes' walk of Herbert Street, Hawthorne still did not come. It was -more than a year afterward that she addressed an inquiry to him about a -new magazine, and in closing asked him to bring his sisters to call in -the evening of the same day. This time he made his appearance, was -induced to accept an invitation to another house, and thus was led into -beginning a social intercourse which, though not extensive, was -unequalled in his previous experience. - -About a week after the first call, he came again. Miss Sophia Peabody, -who was an invalid, had been unable to appear before, but this time she -entered the room; and it was thus that Hawthorne met the lady whom he -was to make his wife some two or three years later. She was now about -twenty-nine, and younger by five years than Hawthorne. In childhood her -health had received a serious shock from the heroic treatment then -upheld by physicians, which favored a free use of mercury, so that it -became necessary from that time on to nurse her with the utmost care. -Many years of invalidism had she suffered, being compelled to stay in a -darkened room through long spaces of time, and although a sojourn in -Cuba had greatly benefited her, it was believed she could never be quite -restored to a normal state of well-being. Despite such serious -obstacles, she had gently persisted in reading and study; she drew and -painted, and no fear of flippant remark deterred her from attempting -even to learn Hebrew. At the same time she was a woman of the most -exquisitely natural cultivation conceivable. A temperament inclined like -hers, from the beginning, to a sweet equanimity, may have been assisted -towards its proper culmination by the habit of patience likely enough to -result from the continued endurance of pain; but a serenity so benign -and so purely feminine and trustful as that which she not displayed, but -spontaneously exhaled, must have rested on a primary and plenary -inspiration of goodness. All that she knew or saw sank into her mind and -took a place in the interior harmony of it, without ruffling the -surface; and all that she thought or uttered seemed to gain a fragrance -and a flower-like quality from having sprung thence. Neither were -strength of character and practical good sense absent from the company -of her calm wisdom and refinement. In brief, no fitter mate for -Hawthorne could have existed. - -Soon after their acquaintance began, she showed him, one evening, a -large outline drawing which she had made, to illustrate "The Gentle -Boy," and asked him: "Does that look like Ilbrahim?" - -Hawthorne, without other demonstration, replied quietly: "Ilbrahim will -never look otherwise to me." - -The drawing was shown to Washington Allston, who accorded it his praise; -and a Miss Burleigh, who was among the earliest admirers of Hawthorne's -genius, having offered to pay the cost of an engraving from it, the -design was reproduced and printed with a new special edition of the -story, accompanied by a Preface, and a Dedication to Miss Sophia -Peabody. The three sisters and two brothers who composed the family of -Dr. Peabody were strongly imbued with intellectual tastes: nothing of -importance in literature, art, or the philosophy of education escaped -them, when once it was brought to their notice by the facilities of the -time. Miss Sophia was not only well read and a very graceful amateur in -the practice of drawing and painting, but evinced furthermore a somewhat -remarkable skill in sculpture. About the year 1831, she modelled a bust -of Laura Bridgman, the blind girl, who was then a child of twelve years. -This portrait not only was said to be a very good likeness, -but--although it is marred by a representation of the peculiar band used -to protect the eyes of the patient--has considerable artistic value, and -attains very nearly to a classic purity of form and treatment. Miss -Peabody also executed a medallion portrait, in relief, of Charles -Emerson, the brilliant brother of Ralph Waldo Emerson, whose great -promise was frustrated by his premature death. This medallion was done -from memory. The artist had once seen Mr. Emerson while he was -lecturing, and was so strongly impressed by his eloquent profile that, -on going home, she made a memory-sketch of it in pencil, which supplied -a germ for the portrait in clay which she attempted after his death. - -The appearance of the "Twice-Told Tales" in book-form had, like that of -the "Gentle Boy" design, been due to the kindness of a friend. In this -case it was Lieutenant Bridge who became responsible for the expense; -and the volume met with, if not much pecuniary success, a gratifying -literary renown. The author sent a copy to Longfellow, who acknowledged -it cordially; and then Hawthorne wrote him as follows:-- - -"By some witchcraft or other--for I really cannot assign any reasonable -cause--I have been carried apart from the main current of life, and find -it impossible to get back again. Since we last met, which you remember -was in Sawtell's room, where you read a farewell poem to the relics of -the class--ever since that time I have secluded myself from society; and -yet I never meant any such thing nor dreamed what sort of life I was -going to lead.... For the last ten years I have not lived, but only -dreamed of living.... - -"As to my literary efforts, I do not think much of them, neither is it -worth while to be ashamed of them. They would have been better, I trust, -if written under more favorable circumstances." - -But Longfellow broke out, as it were, into an exulting cry over them, -which echoed from the pages of the next "North American Review."[5] His -notice was hardly a criticism; it was a eulogy, bristling with the -adornment of frequent references to European literature; but it is worth -while to recall a few of its sentences. - -"When a star rises in the heavens," said Longfellow, "people gaze after -it for a season with the naked eye, and with such telescopes as they may -find. In the stream of thought, which flows so peacefully deep and clear -through this book, we see the bright reflection of a spiritual star, -after which men will be prone to gaze 'with the naked eye and with the -spy-glasses of criticism.'... To this little work we would say, 'Live -ever, sweet, sweet book.' It comes from the hand of a man of genius. -Everything about it has the freshness of morning and of May.... The -book, though in prose, is nevertheless written by a poet. He looks upon -all things in a spirit of love and with lively sympathies. A calm, -thoughtful face seems to be looking at you from every page; with now and -then a pleasant smile, and now a shade of sadness stealing over its -features. Sometimes, though not often, it glares wildly at you, with a -strange and painful expression, as, in the German romance, the bronze -knocker of the Archivarius Lindhorst makes up faces at the student -Anselm.... One of the prominent characteristics of these tales is that -they are national in their character. The author has wisely chosen his -themes among the traditions of New England.... This is the right -material for story. It seems as natural to make tales out of old -tumble-down traditions as canes and snuff-boxes out of old steeples, or -trees planted by great men." - -This hearty utterance of Longfellow's not only was of advantage to the -young author publicly, but also doubtless threw a bright ray of -encouragement into the morning-dusk which was then the pervading -atmosphere of his little study, which he termed his "owl's nest." "I -have to-day," he wrote back, "received and read with huge delight, your -review of 'Hawthorne's Twice-Told Tales.' I frankly own that I was not -without hopes that you would do this kind office for the book; though I -could not have anticipated how very kindly it would be done. Whether or -no the public will agree to the praise which you bestow on me, there are -at least five persons who think you the most sagacious critic on earth, -viz., my mother and two sisters, my old maiden aunt, and finally the -strongest believer of the whole five, my own self. If I doubt the -sincerity and earnestness of any of my critics, it shall be of those who -censure me. Hard would be the lot of a poor scribbler, if he may not -have this privilege." - -His pleasant intimacy with the Peabodys went on; the dawn of his new -epoch broadened, and he began to see in Miss Sophia Peabody the figure -upon which his hopes, his plans for the future converged. Her father's -house stood on the edge of the Charter Street Burying-Ground, oldest of -the Salem cemeteries. "A three-story wooden house"--thus he has -described it--"perhaps a century old, low-studded, with a square front, -standing right upon the street, and a small enclosed porch, containing -the main entrance, affording a glimpse up and down the street through an -oval window on each side: its characteristic was decent respectability, -not sinking below the level of the genteel." In his "Note-Books" (July -4, 1837) he speaks of the old graveyard. "A slate gravestone round the -borders, to the memory of 'Col. John Hathorne Esq.,' who died in 1717. -This was the witch-judge. The stone is sunk deep into the earth, and -leans forward, and the grass grows very long around it.... Other -Hathornes lie buried in a range with him on either side.... It gives -strange ideas, to think how convenient to Dr. P----'s family this -burial-ground is,--the monuments standing almost within arm's reach of -the side-windows of the parlor--and there being a little gate from the -back-yard through which we step forth upon those old graves aforesaid. -And the tomb of the P---- family is right in front, and close to the -gate." Among the other Hathornes interred there are Captain Daniel, the -privateersman, and a Mr. John Hathorne, "grandson of the Hon. John -Hathorne," who died in 1758. The specification of his grandfather's -name, with the prefix, shows that the relentless condemner of witches -was still held in honor at Salem, in the middle of the eighteenth -century. Dr. Peabody's house and this adjoining burial-ground form the -scene of the unfinished "Dolliver Romance," and also supply the setting -for the first part of "Dr. Grimshawe's Secret." In the latter we find it -pictured with a Rembrandtesque depth of tone:-- - -"It stood in a shabby by-street and cornered on a graveyard.... Here -were old brick tombs with curious sculpture on them, and quaint -gravestones, some of which bore puffy little cherubs, and one or two -others the effigies of eminent Puritans, wrought out to a button, a fold -of the ruff, and a wrinkle of the skull-cap.... Here used to be some -specimens of English garden flowers, which could not be accounted -for--unless, perhaps, they had sprung from some English maiden's heart, -where the intense love of those homely things and regret of them in the -foreign land, had conspired together to keep their vivifying -principle.... Thus rippled and surged with its hundreds of little -billows the old graveyard about the house which cornered upon it; it -made the street gloomy so that people did not altogether like to pass -along the high wooden fence that shut it in; and the old house itself, -covering ground which else had been thickly sown with bodies, partook of -its dreariness, because it hardly seemed possible that the dead people -should not get up out of their graves and steal in to warm themselves at -this convenient fireside." - -This was the place in which Hawthorne conducted his courtship; but we -ought not to lose sight of the fact that, in the account above quoted, -he was writing imaginatively, indulging his fancy, and dwelling on -particular points for the sake of heightening the effect. It is not -probable that he associated gloomy fantasies with his own experience as -it progressed in these surroundings. Here as elsewhere it is important -to bear in mind the distinction which Dr. Loring has made: "Throughout -life," he declares, "Hawthorne led a twofold existence--a real and a -supernatural. As a man, he was the realest of men. From childhood to old -age, he had great physical powers. His massive head sat upon a strong -and muscular neck, and his chest was broad and capacious. His strength -was great; his hand and foot were large and well made.... In walking, he -had a firm step and a great stride without effort. In early manhood he -had abounding health, a good digestion, a hearty enjoyment of food. His -excellent physical condition gave him a placid and even temper, a -cheerful spirit. He was a silent man and often a moody one, but never -irritable or morose; his organization was too grand for that. He was a -most delightful companion. In conversation he was never controversial, -never authoritative, and never absorbing. In a multitude his silence was -oppressive; but with a single companion his talk flowed on sensibly, -quietly, and full of wisdom and shrewdness. He discussed books with -wonderful acuteness, sometimes with startling power, and with an -unexpected verdict, as if Shakespeare were discussing Ben Jonson. He -analyzed men, their characters and motives and capacity, with great -penetration, impartially if a stranger or an enemy, with the tenderest -and most touching justice if a friend. He was fond of the companionship -of all who were in sympathy with this real and human side of his life." -But there was another side of his being, for which we may adopt the name -that Dr. Loring has given it, the "supernatural." It was this which gave -him his high distinction. "When he entered upon his work as a writer, he -left behind him his other and accustomed personality by which he was -known in general intercourse. In this work he allowed no interference, -he asked for no aid. He was shy of those whose intellectual power and -literary fame might seem to give them a right to enter his sanctuary. In -an assembly of illustrious authors and thinkers, he floated, reserved -and silent, around the margin in the twilight of the room, and at last -vanished into the outer darkness; and when he was gone, Mr. Emerson said -of him: 'Hawthorne rides well his horse of the night.' The working of -his mind was so sacred and mysterious to him that he was impatient of -any attempt at familiarity or even intimacy with the divine power within -him. His love of personal solitude was a ruling passion, his -intellectual solitude was an overpowering necessity.... Hawthorne said -himself that his work grew in his brain as it went on, and was beyond -his control or direction, for nature was his guide.... I have often -thought that he understood his own greatness so imperfectly, that he -dared not expose the mystery to others, and that the sacredness of his -genius was to him like the sacredness of his love." - -And did not Hawthorne write to his betrothed wife?--"Lights and shadows -are continually flitting across my inward sky, and I know not whence -they come nor whither they go; nor do I inquire too closely into them. -It is dangerous to look too minutely into such phenomena." What we may -collect and set down of mere fact about his surroundings and his acts -relates itself, therefore, mainly to his outwardly real existence, to -the mere shell or mask of him, which was all that anybody could behold -with the eyes; and as for the interior and ideal existence, it is not -likely that we shall securely penetrate very far, where his own -impartial and introverted gaze stopped short. It is but a rough method -to infer with brusque self-confidence that we may judge from a few words -here and there the whole of his thought and feeling. A fair enough -notion may be formed as to the status of his post-collegiate life in -Salem, from the data we have, but we can do no more than guess at its -formative influence upon his genius. And I should be sorry to give an -impression that because his courtship went on in the old house by the -graveyard, of which he has written so soberly, there was any shadow of -melancholy upon that initiatory period of a new happiness. His -reflections concerning the spot had to do with his imaginative, or if -one choose, his "supernatural," existence; what actually passed there -had to do with the real and the personal, and with the life of the -affections. We may be sure that the meeting of two such perfected -spirits, so in harmony one with another, was attended with no qualified -degree of joy. If it was calm and reticent, without rush of excitement -or exuberant utterance, this was because movement at its acme becomes -akin to rest. Let us leave his love in that sanctity which, in his own -mind, it shared with his genius. - -Picturesquely considered, however,--and the picturesque never goes very -deep,--it is certainly interesting to observe that Hawthorne and his -wife, both of Salem families, should have been born on opposite sides of -the same street, within the sound of a voice; should have gone in -separate directions, remaining unaware of each other's existence; and -then should finally have met, when well beyond their first youth, in an -old house on the borders of the ancient burial-ground in which the -ancestors of both reposed, within hail of the spot where both had first -seen the light. - -When they became engaged, there was opposition to the match on the part -of Hawthorne's family, who regarded the seemingly confirmed invalidism -of Miss Peabody as an insuperable objection; but this could not be -allowed to stand in the way of a union so evidently pointed out by -providential circumstance and inherent adaptability in those who were to -be the parties to it. The engagement was a long one; but in the interval -before her marriage Miss Peabody's health materially improved. - - - - -III. - - -The new turn of affairs of course made Hawthorne impatient to find some -employment more immediately productive than that with the pen. He was -profoundly dissatisfied, also, with his elimination from the active life -of the world. "I am tired of being an ornament!" he said with great -emphasis, to a friend. "I want a little piece of land of my own, big -enough to stand upon, big enough to be buried in. I want to have -something to do with this material world." And, striking his hand -vigorously upon a table that stood by: "If I could only make tables," he -declared, "I should feel myself more of a man." - -President Van Buren had entered on the second year of his term, and Mr. -Bancroft, the historian, was Collector of the port of Boston. One -evening the latter was speaking, in a circle of whig friends, of the -splendid things which the democratic administration was doing for -literary men. - -"But there's Hawthorne," suggested Miss Elizabeth Peabody, who was -present. "You've done nothing for him." - -"He won't take anything," was the answer: "he has been offered places." - -In fact, Hawthorne's friends in political life, Pierce and Jonathan -Cilley, had urged him to enter politics; and at one time he had been -offered a post in the West Indies, but refused it because he would not -live in a slaveholding community. - -"I happen to know," said Miss Peabody, "that he would be very glad of -employment." - -The result was that a small position in the Boston Custom House was -soon awarded to the young author. On going down from Salem to inquire -about it, he received another and better appointment as weigher and -gauger. His friend Pike was installed there at the same time. To -Longfellow, Hawthorne wrote in good spirits:-- - -"I have no reason to doubt my capacity to fulfil the duties; for I don't -know what they are. They tell me that a considerable portion of my time -will be unoccupied, the which I mean to employ in sketches of my new -experience, under some such titles as follows: 'Scenes In Dock,' -'Voyages at Anchor,' 'Nibblings of a Wharf Rat,' 'Trials of a -Tide-Waiter,' 'Romance of the Revenue Service,' together with an ethical -work in two volumes on the subject of Duties; the first volume to treat -of moral duties and the second of duties imposed by the revenue laws, -which I begin to consider the most important." - -His hopes regarding unoccupied time were not fulfilled; he was unable to -write with freedom during his term of service in Boston, and the best -result of it for us is contained in those letters, extracts from which -Mrs. Hawthorne published in the first volume of the "American -Note-Books." The benefit to him lay in the moderate salary of $1,200, -from which the cheapness of living at that time and his habitual economy -enabled him to lay up something; and in the contact with others which -his work involved. He might have saved time for writing if he had -chosen; but the wages of the wharf laborers depended on the number of -hours they worked, and Hawthorne--true to his instinct of democratic -sympathy and of justice--made it a point to reach the wharf at the -earliest hour, no matter what the weather might be, solely for the -convenience of the men. "It pleased me," he says in one of his letters, -"to think that I also had a part to act in the material and tangible -business of life, and that a portion of all this industry could not have -gone on without my presence." - -But when he had had two years of this sort of toil the Whigs elected a -President, and Hawthorne was dropped from the civil service. The project -of an ideal community just then presented itself, and from Boston he -went to Brook Farm, close by in Roxbury. The era of Transcendentalism -had arrived, and Dr. George Ripley, an enthusiastic student of -philosophy and a man of wide information, sought to give the new -tendencies a practical turn in the establishment of a modified -socialistic community. The Industrial Association which he proposed to -plant at West Roxbury was wisely planned with reference to the -conditions of American life; it had no affinity with the erratic views -of Enfantin or St. Simon, nor did it in the least partake of the errors -of Robert Owen regarding the relation of the sexes; although it agreed -with Fourier and Owen both, if I understand the aim rightly, in respect -of labor. Dr. Ripley's simple object was to distribute labor in such a -way as to give all men time for culture, and to free their minds from -the debasing influence of a merely selfish competition. "A few men of -like views and feelings," one of his sympathizers has said, "grouped -themselves around him, not as their master, but as their friend and -brother, and the community at Brook Farm was instituted." Charles A. -Dana and Minot Pratt were leading spirits in the enterprise; the young -Brownson, George William Curtis, and Horace Sumner (a younger brother of -Charles) were also engaged in it, at various times. The place was a -kind of granary of true grit. Hawthorne has characterized the community -in that remark which he applied to Blithedale: "They were mostly -individuals who had gone through such an experience as to disgust them -with ordinary pursuits, but who were not yet so old, nor had suffered so -deeply, as to lose their faith in the better time to come." Miss E. P. -Peabody had at that time left Salem and begun a publishing business in -Boston, being one of the first women of our time to embark in an -occupation thought to appertain exclusively to men; and at her rooms -some of the preliminary meetings of the new association were held. Thus -it happened that the scheme was speedily brought to Hawthorne's notice. -When his accession to the ranks was announced, Dr. Ripley, as he said to -the present writer, felt as if a miracle had occurred, "or as if the -heavens would presently be opened and we should see Jacob's Ladder -before us. But we never came any nearer to having _that_, than our old -ladder in the barn, from floor to hayloft." Besides his belief in the -theory of an improved condition of society, and his desire to forward -its accomplishment, Hawthorne had two objects in joining the community: -one of which was to secure a suitable and economical home after -marriage; the other, to hit upon a mode of life which should equalize -the sum of his exertions between body and brain. Many persons went -thither in just the same frame of mind. - -From a distance, the life that was led there has a very pretty and -idyllic look. There was teaching, and there was intellectual talk; there -was hard domestic and farming work in pleasant companionship, and a -general effort to be disinterested. The various buildings in which the -associators found shelter were baptized with cheerful and sentimental -names; The Hive, The Pilgrim House, The Nest, The Eyrie, and The -Cottage. The young women sang as they washed the dishes, and the more -prepossessing and eligible of the yeomen sometimes volunteered to help -them with their unpoetic and saponaceous task. The costume of the men -included a blouse of checked or plaided stuff, belted at the waist, and -a rough straw hat; and the women also wore hats, in defiance of the -fashion then ruling, and chose calico for their gowns. In the evenings, -poems and essays composed by the members, or else a play of Shakespeare, -would be read aloud in the principal gathering held at one of the -houses. A great deal of individual liberty was allowed, and Hawthorne -probably availed himself of this to keep as much as possible out of -sight. One might fancy, on a casual glance, that Brook Farm was the -scene of a prolonged picnic. But it was not so at all. Hawthorne had -hoped that by devoting six hours a day to mechanical employments, he -could earn the time he needed for writing; but, as it proved, the manual -labor more nearly consumed sixteen hours, according to Dr. Ripley, who -declared of Hawthorne that "he worked like a dragon!" - -Sundry of Hawthorne's common sense observations and conclusions upon the -advisability of his remaining at the farm are to be found in his -"Note-Books," and have often been quoted and criticised. They show that, -as might be expected in a person of candor and good judgment, he was -considering the whole phenomenon upon the practical side. There is an -instructive passage also in "The Blithedale Romance," which undoubtedly -refers to his own experience:-- - -"Though fond of society, I was so constituted as to need these -occasional retirements, even in a life like that of Blithedale, which -was itself characterized by a remoteness from the world. Unless renewed -by a yet further withdrawal towards the inner circle of self-communion, -I lost the better part of my individuality. My thoughts became of little -worth, and my sensibilities grew as arid as a tuft of moss ... crumbling -in the sunshine, after long expectance of a shower." - -The whole thing was an experiment for everybody concerned, and Hawthorne -found it best to withdraw from a further prosecution thereof, as persons -were constantly doing who had come to see if the life would suit them. -He had contributed a thousand dollars (the chief part of his savings in -the Custom House) to the funds of the establishment; and, some time -after he quitted the place, an effort was made among the most -influential gentlemen of Brook Farm to restore this sum to him, although -they were not, I believe, bound to do so. Whether or not they ever -carried out this purpose has not been learned. The community flourished -for four years and was financially sound, but in 1844 it entered into -bonds of brotherhood with a Fourieristic organization in New York, began -to build a Phalanstery, attempted to enlarge its range of industry, and -came to grief. No one of its chief adherents has ever written its -history; but perhaps Mr. Frothingham is right in saying that -"Aspirations have no history."[6] At all events Hawthorne, in "The -Blithedale Romance," which explicitly disclaims any close adherence to -facts or any criticism on the experiment, has furnished the best -chronicle it has had, so far as the spirit of the scheme is concerned. - -Having tried the utmost isolation for ten years in Salem, and finding -it unsatisfactory; and having made a venture in an opposite extreme at -Brook Farm, which was scarcely more to his liking, Hawthorne had -unconsciously passed through the best of preparation for that family -life of comparative freedom, and of solitude alternating with a gentle -and perfect companionship, on which he was about to enter. In July, -1842, Rev. James Freeman Clarke, of Boston, received the following note, -dated from 54 Pinckney Street, which was the residence of Hawthorne's -friend, George S. Hillard:-- - - MY DEAR SIR,--Though personally a stranger to you, I am about to - request of you the greatest favor which I can receive from any man. - I am to be married to Miss Sophia Peabody; and it is our mutual - desire that you should perform the ceremony. Unless it should be - decidedly a rainy day, a carriage will call for you at half past - eleven o'clock in the forenoon. - - Very respectfully yours, - NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. - -The wedding took place quietly, and Hawthorne carried his bride to the -Manse at Concord, the old parsonage of that town. It belonged to the -descendants of Dr. Ezra Ripley, who had been pastor there at the close -of the last century; they were relatives of the George Ripley with whom -Hawthorne had so recently been associated at Brook Farm. Hawthorne had -succeeded in hiring the place for a time, and was happy in beginning his -married life in a house so well in keeping with his tastes. The best -account of this, his first sojourn in Concord, is to be found in the -"American Note-Books," and in the Introduction to the "Mosses from an -Old Manse." Here his first child was born, a daughter, to whom the name -of Una[7] was given, from "The Faërie Queen"; and here he saw something -of Emerson and of Margaret Fuller. Among his visitors, who were never -many, was George Stillman Hillard, a Democrat, a lawyer, an editor, an -orator in high favor with the Bostonians, and the author of several -works both of travel and of an educational kind. Mr. George P. Bradford, -with whom Hawthorne had talked and toiled at Brook Farm, was a cousin of -the Ripleys, and also came hither as a friend. Another Brook Farmer -appeared at the Manse, in the person of one Frank Farley, a man of some -originality, who had written a little book on natural scenery and had -been a frontiersman, but was subject to a mild, loquacious form of -insanity. (Mention of him as "Mr. F----" is made in the "American -Note-Books," under date of June 6 and June 10, 1844.) A writer in one of -the magazines has recorded the impression which Hawthorne left on the -minds of others who saw him during this period, but did not know him. -Among the villagers "a report was current that this man Hawthorne was -somewhat uncanny--in point of fact, not altogether sane. My friend, the -son of a Concord farmer and at that time a raw college youth, had heard -these bucolic whisperings as to the sanity of the recluse dweller at the -ancient parsonage; but he knew nothing of the man, had read none of his -productions, and of course took no interest in what was said or surmised -about him. And one day, casting his eye toward the Manse as he was -passing, he saw Hawthorne up the pathway, standing with folded arms in -motionless attitude, and with eyes fixed upon the ground. 'Poor -fellow,' was his unspoken comment: 'he does look as if he might be -daft.' And when, on his return a full hour afterward, Hawthorne was -still standing in the same place and attitude, the lad's very natural -conclusion was, 'The man _is_ daft, sure enough!'" Mr. Thomas Wentworth -Higginson has presented quite a different view, in his "Short Studies of -American Authors." He says:-- - -"The self-contained purpose of Hawthorne, the large resources, the -waiting power,--these seem to the imagination to imply an ample basis of -physical life; and certainly his stately and noble port is inseparable, -in my memory, from these characteristics. Vivid as this impression is, I -yet saw him but twice, and never spoke to him. I first met him on a -summer morning, in Concord, as he was walking along the road near the -Old Manse, with his wife by his side and a noble looking baby-boy in a -little wagon which the father was pushing. I remember him as tall, firm, -and strong in bearing.... When I passed, Hawthorne lifted upon me his -great gray eyes with a look too keen to seem indifferent, too shy to be -sympathetic--and that was all."[8] - -Hawthorne's plan of life was settled; he was happily married, and the -problems of his youth were solved: his character and his genius were -formed. From this point on, therefore, his works and his "Note-Books" -impart the essentials of his career. The main business of the biographer -is, after this, to put together that which will help to make real the -picture of the author grappling with those transient emergencies that -constitute the tangible part of his history. A few extracts from -letters written to Horatio Bridge, heretofore unpublished, come under -this head. - -_Concord, March_ 25, 1843.--"I did not come to see you, because I was -very short of cash--having been disappointed in money that I had -expected from three or four sources. My difficulties of this kind -sometimes make me sigh for the regular monthly payments of the Custom -House. The system of slack payments in this country is most -abominable.... I find no difference in anybody in this respect, for all -do wrong alike. ---- is just as certain to disappoint me in money -matters as any little pitiful scoundrel among the booksellers. For my -part, I am compelled to disappoint those who put faith in my -engagements; and so it goes round." - -The following piece of advice with regard to notes for the "Journal of -an African Cruiser," by Mr. Bridge, which Hawthorne was to edit, is -worth observing and has never before been given to the public:-- - -"I would advise you not to stick too accurately to the bare facts, -either in your descriptions or your narratives; else your hand will be -cramped, and the result will be a want of freedom that will deprive you -of a higher truth than that which you strive to attain. Allow your fancy -pretty free license, and omit no heightening touches merely because they -did not chance to happen before your eyes. If they did not happen, they -at least ought--which is all that concerns you. This is the secret of -all entertaining travellers.... Begin to write always before the -impression of novelty has worn off from your mind; else you will soon -begin to think that the peculiarities which at first interested you are -not worth recording; yet these slight peculiarities are the very things -that make the most vivid impression upon the reader." In this same -letter (May 3, 1843) he reverts to the financial difficulty, and speaks -of a desire to obtain office again, but adds: "It is rather singular -that I should need an office; for nobody's scribblings seem to be more -acceptable to the public than mine; and yet I still find it a tough -match to gain a respectable living by my pen." - -By November of 1844 he had put things seriously in train for procuring -another government position; Polk having been elected to the Presidency. -There was a rumor that Tyler had actually fixed upon Hawthorne for the -postmastership of Salem, but had been induced to withdraw the name; and -this was the office upon which he fixed his hope; but a hostile party -made itself felt in Salem, which raised all possible obstacles, and -apparently Hawthorne's former chief, Mr. Bancroft,--it may have been for -some reason connected with political management,--opposed his -nomination. Early in October, 1845, Hawthorne made his farewell to the -Old Manse, never to return to the shelter of its venerable and -high-shouldered roof. Once more he went to Salem, and halted in Herbert -Street. The postmastership had proved unattainable, but there was a -prospect of his becoming Naval Officer or Surveyor. The latter position -was given him at length; but not until the spring of 1846. On first -arriving at Salem, he wrote to Bridge: "Here I am, again established--in -the old chamber where I wasted so many years of my life. I find it -rather favorable to my literary duties; for I have already begun to -sketch out the story for Wiley & Putnam," an allusion to something -intended to fill out a volume of the "Mosses," already negotiated for. -After his installation as Surveyor he wrote, speaking of his "moderate -prosperity," and said further: "I have written nothing for the press -since my entrance into office, but intend to begin soon. My 'Mosses' -seem to have met with good acceptance." Time went on, however, and he -remained, so far as literary production was concerned, inert. He had -left the Manning homestead and hired a house in Chestnut Street, which -he kept for a year and a half. During this period Mrs. Hawthorne went to -Boston for a time, and in Carver Street, Boston, was born their second -child and only son, Mr. Julian Hawthorne, who has since made a -reputation for himself as a novelist. From Chestnut Street he went to -another house, in Mall Street; and it was there that "The Scarlet -Letter" was finished, in 1850, four years after he had announced to -Bridge that he intended soon to begin composition. The Custom House -routine disturbed his creative moods and caused a gradual postponement -of literary effort. Of the figure that he made while fulfilling the -functions assigned to him, slight traces have been left. We are told, -for example, that two Shakers, leaders in their community, visited the -Custom House one day, and were conducted through its several -departments. On the way out, they passed Hawthorne, and no sooner had -they left his room than, the door being shut behind them, the elder -brother asked with great interest who that man was. After referring to -the strong face, "and those eyes, the most wonderful he had ever -beheld," he said: "Mark my words, that man will in some way make a deep -impression upon the world." It is also remembered that a rough and -overbearing sea-captain attempted to interfere with Hawthorne's exercise -of his duty as an inspector of the customs, in charge of the ship. His -attempt "was met with such a terrific uprising of spiritual and physical -wrath that the dismayed captain fled up the wharf" and took refuge with -the Collector, "inquiring with a sailor's emotion and a sailor's tongue: -'What in God's name have you sent on board my ship for an inspector?'" -Unexpectedly, in the winter of 1849, he was deprived of his -surveyorship; a great surprise to him, because he had understood certain -of his fellow-citizens of Salem to have given a pledge that they would -not seek his removal, and it appeared that they had, notwithstanding, -gone to work to oust him. - -On finding himself superseded, he walked away from the Custom House, -returned home, and entering sat down in the nearest chair, without -uttering a word. Mrs. Hawthorne asked him if he was well. - -"Well enough," was the answer. - -"What is the matter, then?" said she. "Are you 'decapitated?'" - -He replied with gloom that he was, and that the occurrence was no joke. - -"Oh," said his wife, gayly, "now you can write your Romance!" For he had -told her several times that he had a romance "growling" in him. - -"Write my Romance!" he exclaimed. "But what are we to do for bread and -rice, next week?" - -"I will take care of that," she answered. "And I will tell Ann to put a -fire in your study, now." - -Hawthorne was oppressed with anxiety as to means of support for his wife -and children; the necessity of writing for immediate returns always had -a deterrent and paralyzing effect on his genius; and he was amazed that -Mrs. Hawthorne should take his calamity with so much lightness. He -questioned her again regarding the wherewithal to meet their current -needs, knowing well that he himself had no fund in reserve. His habit -had been to hand her the instalments of salary as they came to him from -the office; and when he was in need of money for himself he drew again -upon her for it. He therefore supposed that everything had been used up -from week to week. But Mrs. Hawthorne now disclosed the fact that she -had about a hundred and fifty dollars, a sum which for them was a -considerable one, their manner of living being extremely plain. Greatly -astonished, he asked her where she had obtained so much. - -"You earned it," she replied, cheerily. - -Mrs. Hawthorne was in fact overjoyed, on his account, that he had lost -his place; feeling as she did that he would now resume his proper -employment. The fire was built in the study, and Hawthorne, stimulated -by his wife's good spirits, set at once about writing "The Scarlet -Letter." - -Some six months of time were required for its completion, and Mrs. -Hawthorne, who was aware that her savings would be consumed in a third -of that space, applied herself to increasing the small stock of cash, so -that her husband's mind might remain free and buoyant for his writing. -She began making little cambric lamp-shades, which she decorated with -delicate outline drawings and sent to Boston for sale. They were readily -purchased, and, by continuing their manufacture, this devoted wife -contrived to defray the expenses of the household until the book was -finished. - -Mr. James T. Fields, the publisher, who was already an acquaintance, -and eventually became a friend, of Hawthorne's had been told of the -work, and went down to Salem to suggest bringing it out. This was before -the story had been fully elaborated into its present form. Hawthorne had -written steadily all day, and every day, from the start, but, -remembering in what small quantity his books sold, he had come to -consider this new attempt a forlorn hope. Mr. Fields found him -despondent, and thus narrates the close of the interview:-- - -"I looked at my watch and found that the train would soon be starting -for Boston, and I knew there was not much time to lose in trying to -discover what had been his literary work during these last few years in -Salem. I remember that I pressed him to reveal to me what he had been -writing. He shook his head, and gave me to understand that he had -produced nothing. At that moment I caught sight of a bureau or set of -drawers near where we were sitting; and immediately it occurred to me -that, hidden away somewhere in that article of furniture, was a story or -stories by the author of the 'Twice-Told Tales,' and I became so -confident that I charged him vehemently with the fact. He seemed -surprised, I thought, but shook his head again; and I rose to take my -leave, begging him not to come into the cold entry, saying I would come -back and see him again in a few days. I was hurrying down the stairs -when he called after me from the chamber, asking me to stop a moment. -Then, quickly stepping into the entry with a roll of manuscript in his -hands, he said: 'How in Heaven's name did you know this thing was here? -As you have found me out, take what I have written, and tell me, after -you get home and have time to read it, if it is good for anything. It -is either very good or very bad--I don't know which.' On my way up to -Boston I read the germ of 'The Scarlet Letter;' before I slept that -night I wrote him a note all aglow with admiration of the marvellous -story he had put into my hands." - -In a letter to Bridge (April 10, 1850), the author said: "'The Scarlet -Letter' has sold well, the first edition having been exhausted in ten -days, and the second (5,000 in all) promising to go off rapidly." -Speaking of the excitement created among his townspeople by the -introductory account of the Custom House, he continued: "As to the Salem -people, I really thought I had been exceedingly good-natured in my -treatment of them. They certainly do not deserve good usage at my hands, -after permitting me ... to be deliberately lied down, not merely once -but at two separate attacks, on two false indictments, without hardly a -voice being raised on my behalf; and then sending one of their false -witnesses to Congress and choosing another as their Mayor. I feel an -infinite contempt for them, and probably have expressed more of it than -I intended; for my preliminary chapter has caused the greatest uproar -that ever happened here since witch-times. If I escape from town without -being tarred and feathered, I shall consider it good luck. I wish they -_would_ tar and feather me--it would be such an entirely new distinction -for a literary man! And from such judges as my fellow-citizens, I should -look upon it as a higher honor than a laurel-crown." In the same letter -he states that he has taken a house in Lenox, and shall move to it on -the 1st of May: "I thank Mrs. Bridge for her good wishes as respects my -future removals from office; but I should be sorry to anticipate such -bad fortune as ever again being appointed to me." - -Previous to this, he had written: "I long to get into the country, for -my health latterly is not quite what it has been for many years past. I -should not long stand such a life of bodily inactivity and mental -exertion as I have led for the last few months. An hour or two of daily -labor in a garden, and a daily ramble in country air or on the -sea-shore, would keep me all right. Here I hardly go out once a week.... -I detest this town so much, that I hate to go into the streets, or to -have the people see me. Anywhere else I should at once be another man." - -It was not a very comfortable home, that small red wooden house at -Lenox, overlooking the beautiful valley of the Housatonic and surrounded -by mountains; but both Hawthorne and his wife bravely made the best of -it. Mrs. Hawthorne ornamented an entire set of plain furniture, painted -a dull yellow, with copies from Flaxman's outlines, executed with great -perfection; and, poor as the place was, it soon became invested by its -occupants with something of a poetic atmosphere. After a summer's rest, -Hawthorne began "The House of the Seven Gables;" writing to Bridge in -October:-- - -"I am getting so deep into my own book, that I am afraid it will be -impossible for me to attend properly to my editorial duties" (connected -with a new edition of Lieutenant Bridge's "Journal of an African -Cruiser").... "Una and Julian grow apace, and so do our chickens, of -which we have two broods. There is one difficulty about these chickens, -as well as about the older fowls. We have become so intimately -acquainted with every individual of them, that it really seems like -cannibalism to think of eating them. What is to be done?" - -[Illustration: Letter to Mr. Fields. - - Lenox, January 27. 1851 - - Dear Fields, - - I intend to put the House of the Seven Gables into the express - man's hands to-day; so that, if you do not soon receive it, you may - conclude that it has miscarried--in which case, I shall not consent - to the Universe existing a moment longer. I have no copy of it, - except the wildest scribble of a first draught; so that it could - never be restored. - - It has met with extraordinary success from that portion of the - public to whose judgement it has been submitted, viz. from my wife. - I likewise prefer it to the Scarlet Letter; but an author's opinion - of his book, just after completing it, is worth little or nothing; - he being then in the hot or cold fit of a fever, and certain to - rate it too high or too low. - - * * * * * - - I had something else to say, but have forgotten what. - - Truly Yours, - Nath. Hawthorne.] - -His task occupied him all winter. To Mr. Fields at length, on the 27th -of January, 1851, he sent the following message:-- - -"I intend to put 'The House of the Seven Gables' into the expressman's -hands to-day; so that, if you do not soon receive it, you may conclude -that it has miscarried--in which case, I shall not consent to the -universe existing a moment longer. I have no copy of it, except the -wildest scribble of a first draught; so that it could never be restored. - -"It has met with extraordinary success from that portion of the public -to whose judgment it has been submitted: viz. from my wife. I likewise -prefer it to 'The Scarlet Letter;' but an author's opinion of his book, -just after completing it, is worth little or nothing; he being then in -the hot or cold fit of a fever, and certain to rate it too high or too -low. It has undoubtedly one disadvantage in being brought so close to -the present time, whereby its romantic improbabilities become more -glaring." - -The fac simile of a part of the above letter which is reproduced here -serves as a fairly good specimen of Hawthorne's handwriting. At the time -when it was written, he was not very well, and the fatigue of his long -labor upon the book rendered the chirography somewhat less clear in this -case than it often was. The lettering in his manuscripts was somewhat -larger, and was still more distinct than that in his correspondence. - -After the new romance had come out and had met with a flattering -reception, he inquired of Bridge (July 22, 1851): "Why did you not write -and tell me how you liked (or how you did not like) 'The House of the -Seven Gables?' Did you feel shy about expressing an unfavorable opinion? -It would not have hurt me in the least, though I am always glad to -please you; but I rather think I have reached the stage when I do not -care very essentially one way or the other for anybody's opinion on any -one production. On this last romance, for instance, I have heard and -seen such diversity of judgment that I should be altogether bewildered -if I attempted to strike a balance;--so I take nobody's estimate but my -own. I think it is a work more characteristic of my mind, and more -natural and proper for me to write, than 'The Scarlet Letter'--but for -that very reason less likely to interest the public.... As long as -people will buy, I shall keep at work, and I find that my facility of -labor increases with the demand for it." - -In the May of 1851 another daughter was added to his family. Hawthorne, -like his father, had one son and two daughters. Of this youngest one he -wrote to Pike, two months after her birth: "She is a very bright and -healthy child.... I think I feel more interest in her than I did in the -other children at the same age, from the consideration that she is to be -the daughter of my age--the comfort (so it is to be hoped) of my -declining years." There are some other interesting points in this -communication. "What a sad account you give of your solitude, in your -letter! I am not likely ever to have that feeling of loneliness which -you express; and I most heartily wish you would take measures to remedy -it in your own case, by marrying.... Whenever you find it quite -intolerable (and I can hardly help wishing that it may become so soon), -do come to me. By the way, if I continue to prosper as hitherto in the -literary line, I shall soon be in a condition to buy a place; and if -you should hear of one, say worth from $1,500 to $2,000, I wish you -would keep your eye on it for me. I should wish it to be on the -sea-coast, or at all events within easy access to the sea. Very little -land would suit my purpose, but I want a good house, with space -inside.... I find that I do not feel at home among these hills, and -should not consider myself permanently settled here. I do not get -acclimated to the peculiar state of the atmosphere; and, except in -mid-winter, I am continually catching cold, and am never so vigorous as -I used to be on the sea-coast.... Why did you not express your opinion -of 'The House of the Seven Gables?'... I should receive friendly -censure with just as much equanimity as if it were praise; though -certainly I had rather you would like the book than not. At any rate, it -has sold finely, and seems to have pleased a good many people better -than the other; and I must confess that I myself am among the number.... -When I write another romance I shall take the Community for a subject, -and shall give some of my experiences at Brook Farm." - -On the first day of December, 1851, he left Lenox with his wife and -children, betaking himself for the winter to West Newton, a suburban -village a few miles west of Boston, on the Charles River; there to -remain until he could effect the purchase of a house which could serve -him as a settled home. The house that he finally selected was an old one -in the town of Concord, about a mile easterly from the centre of the -village on the road to Lexington, and was then the property of Mrs. -Bronson Alcott. During the winter at West Newton he wrote "The -Blithedale Romance," which was published early in 1852. In the brief -term of two years and a half from the moment of his leaving the Custom -House at Salem, he had thus produced four books,--"The Scarlet Letter," -"The House of the Seven Gables," "A Wonder-Book for Boys and Girls," and -"The Blithedale Romance,"--three of them being the principal works of -his lifetime, with which "The Marble Faun" alone stands in the same -category. Early in the summer of 1852 he took up his residence in his -new home, The Wayside, of which he thus discoursed to Mr. George William -Curtis, on the 14th of July, 1852:-- - - MY DEAR HOWADJI,--I think (and am glad to think) that you will find - it necessary to come hither in order to write your Concord - Sketches; and as for my old house, you will understand it better - after spending a day or two in it. Before Mr. Alcott took it in - hand, it was a mean-looking affair, with two peaked gables; no - suggestiveness about it and no venerableness, although from the - style of its construction it seems to have survived beyond its - first century. He added a porch in front, and a central peak, and a - piazza at each end, and painted it a rusty olive hue, and invested - the whole with a modest picturesqueness; all which improvements, - together with its situation at the foot of a wooded hill, make it a - place that one notices and remembers for a few moments after - passing it. Mr. Alcott expended a good deal of taste and some money - (to no great purpose) in forming the hill-side behind the house - into terraces, and building arbors and summer-houses of rough stems - and branches and trees, on a system of his own. They must have been - very pretty in their day, and are so still, although much decayed, - and shattered more and more by every breeze that blows. The - hill-side is covered chiefly with locust-trees, which come into - luxuriant blossom in the month of June, and look and smell very - sweetly, intermixed with a few young elms and some white-pines and - infant oaks,--the whole forming rather a thicket than a wood. - Nevertheless, there is some very good shade to be found there. I - spend delectable hours there in the hottest part of the day, - stretched out at my lazy length, with a book in my hand or an - unwritten book in my thoughts. There is almost always a breeze - stirring along the sides or brow of the hill. - - From the hill-top there is a good view along the extensive level - surfaces and gentle, hilly outlines, covered with wood, that - characterize the scenery of Concord. We have not so much as a gleam - of lake or river in the prospect; if there were, it would add - greatly to the value of the place in my estimation. - - The house stands within ten or fifteen feet of the old Boston road - (along which the British marched and retreated), divided from it by - a fence, and some trees and shrubbery of Mr. Alcott's setting out. - Whereupon I have called it "The Wayside," which I think a better - name and more morally suggestive than that which, as Mr. Alcott has - since told me, he bestowed on it,--"The Hill-Side." In front of the - house, on the opposite side of the road, I have eight acres of - land,--the only valuable portion of the place in a farmer's eye, - and which are capable of being made very fertile. On the hither - side, my territory extends some little distance over the brow of - the hill, and is absolutely good for nothing, in a productive point - of view, though very good for many other purposes. - - I know nothing of the history of the house, except Thoreau's - telling me that it was inhabited a generation or two ago by a man - who believed he should never die.[9] I believe, however, he is - dead; at least, I hope so; else he may probably appear and dispute - my title to his residence.... - - I asked Ticknor to send a copy of "The Blithedale Romance" to you. - Do not read it as if it had anything to do with Brook Farm (which - essentially it has not), but merely for its own story and - character. - - Truly yours, NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. - -Quite possibly the name of The Wayside recommended itself to him by some -association of thought like that which comes to light in the Preface to -"The Snow-Image," where, speaking of the years immediately following his -college course, he says: "I sat down by the wayside of life like a man -under enchantment, and a shrubbery sprung up around me, and the bushes -grew to be saplings, and the saplings became trees, until no exit -appeared possible through the entangling depths of my obscurity." If so, -the simile held good as to his home; for there, too, the shrubbery has -sprung up and has grown to saplings and trees, until the house is -embosomed in a wood, except for the opening along the road and a small -amphitheatre of lawn overlooked by the evergreen-clad hill. - -Hawthorne's old college friend, Franklin Pierce, after having been to -Congress and having risen to the rank of general in the Mexican War, was -nominated by the democratic party for the presidency of the United -States, at the time when the romancer had established himself in this -humble but charming old abode; and it became manifest that the -candidate wanted Hawthorne to write a life of him, for use in the -campaign. Hawthorne, on being pressed, consented to do so, and a letter -which he addressed to Bridge, October 13, 1852, contains some extremely -interesting confidences on the subject, which will be entirely new to -readers. As they do Hawthorne credit, if considered fairly, and give a -striking presentment of the impartiality with which he viewed all -subjects, it seems to be proper to print them here. - -He begins by speaking of "The Blithedale Romance," regarding which he -says: "I doubt whether you will like it very well; but it has met with -good success, and has brought me (besides its American circulation) a -thousand dollars from England, whence likewise have come many favorable -notices. Just at this time, I rather think your friend stands foremost -there as an American fiction-monger. In a day or two I intend to begin a -new romance, which, if possible, I intend to make more genial than the -last. - -"I did not send you the Life of Pierce, not considering it fairly one of -my literary productions.... I was terribly reluctant to undertake this -work, and tried to persuade Pierce, both by letter and vivâ voce, that I -could not perform it as well as many others; but he thought differently, -and of course after a friendship of thirty years it was impossible to -refuse my best efforts in his behalf, at the great pinch of his life. It -was a bad book to write, for the gist of the matter lay in explaining -how it happened, that with such extraordinary opportunities for eminent -distinction, civil and military, as he has enjoyed, this crisis should -have found him so obscure as he certainly was, in a national point of -view. My heart absolutely sank at the dearth of available material. -However, I have done the business, greatly to Frank's satisfaction; and, -though I say it myself, it is judiciously done; and, without any -sacrifice of truth, it puts him in as good a light as circumstances -would admit. Other writers might have made larger claims for him, and -have eulogized him more highly; but I doubt whether any other could have -bestowed a better aspect of sincerity and reality on the narrative, and -have secured all the credit possible for him without spoiling all by -asserting too much. And though the story is true, yet it took a romancer -to do it. - -"Before undertaking it, I made an inward resolution that I would accept -no office from him; but to say the truth, I doubt whether it would not -be rather folly than heroism to adhere to this purpose, in case he -should offer me anything particularly good. We shall see. A foreign -mission I could not afford to take;--the consulship at Liverpool I -might.... I have several invitations from English celebrities to come -over there; and this office would make all straight. He certainly owes -me something; for the biography has cost me hundreds of friends here at -the North, who had a purer regard for me than Frank Pierce or any other -politician ever gained, and who drop off from me like autumn leaves, in -consequence of what I say on the slavery question. But they were my real -sentiments, and I do not now regret that they are on record." - -After discussing other topics, he observes further of Pierce: "I have -come seriously to the conclusion that he has in him many of the chief -elements of a great man; and that if he wins the election he may run a -great career. His talents are administrative; he has a subtle faculty -of making affairs roll around according to his will, and of influencing -their course without showing any trace of his action." Hawthorne did not -feel very confident of his friend's election. "I love him," he adds, -"and, oddly enough, there is a kind of pitying sentiment mixed with my -affection for him just now." - - * * * * * - -Mr. Richard Henry Stoddard has set down his reminiscences of two visits -paid to Hawthorne at the beginning and after the end of the campaign. In -the summer of 1852, Mr. Stoddard was making a short stay in Boston, and -dropped in at the Old Corner Bookstore to call upon Mr. Fields, who then -had his headquarters there. He found Mr. Edwin P. Whipple, the lecturer -and critic, sitting with the publisher. - -"'We are going to see Hawthorne,' Mr. Fields remarked, in an off-hand -way, as if such a visit was the commonest thing in the world. 'Won't you -come along?' He knew my admiration for Hawthorne, and that I desired to -meet him, if I could do so without being considered an infliction. 'To -be sure I will,' I replied.... When we were fairly seated in the train -we met a friend of Hawthorne, whom Mr. Fields knew--a Colonel T. I. -Whipple--who, like ourselves, was _en route_ for Concord, ... and as -General Pierce was then the democratic candidate for the presidency, he -was going to see Hawthorne, in order to furnish materials for that work. - -"We reached The Wayside, where Hawthorne, who had no doubt been -expecting visitors, met us at the door. I was introduced to him as being -the only stranger of the party, and was greeted warmly, more so than I -had dared to hope, remembering the stories I had heard of his -unconquerable shyness. He threw open the door of the room on the left, -and, telling us to make ourselves at home, disappeared with Colonel -Whipple and his budget of biographical memoranda. We made ourselves at -home, as he had desired, in what I suppose was the parlor--a cosy but -plainly furnished room, with nothing to distinguish it from a thousand -other "best rooms" in New England, except a fine engraving on the wall -of one of Raphael's Madonnas. We chatted a few moments, and then, as he -did not return, we took a stroll over the grounds, under the direction -of Mr. Fields. - -"We had ascended the hill, and from its outlook were taking in the -historic country about, when we were rejoined by Hawthorne in the old -rustic summer-house. As I was the stranger, he talked with me more than -with the others, largely about myself and my verse-work, which he seemed -to have followed with considerable attention; and he mentioned an -architectural poem of mine and compared it with his own modest mansion. - -"'If I could build like you,' he said, 'I, too, would have a castle in -the air.' - -"'Give me The Wayside,' I replied, 'and you shall have all the air -castles I can build.' - -"As we rambled and talked, my heart went out towards this famous man, -who did not look down upon me, as he might well have done, but took me -up to himself as an equal and a friend. Dinner was announced and eaten, -a plain country dinner, with a bottle or two of _vin ordinaire_, and we -started back to Boston." - -Pierce having become President-Elect, Mr. Stoddard made another trip to -Concord, in the winter of 1852-3, to ask Hawthorne's advice about -getting a place in the Custom House. He was taken into the study (at -that time in the southeast corner, on the ground-floor and facing the -road), where there was a blazing wood-fire. The announcement of dinner -cut short their conversation, but after dinner they again retired to the -study, where, as Mr. Stoddard says, Hawthorne brought out some cigars, -"which we smoked with a will and which I found stronger than I liked. -Custom House matters were scarcely touched upon, and I was not sorry, -for while they were my ostensible errand there, they were not half so -interesting as the discursive talk of Hawthorne. He manifested a good -deal of curiosity in regard to some old Brook Farmers whom I knew in a -literary way, and I told him what they were doing, and gave him my -impressions of the individuality of each. He listened, with an -occasional twinkle of the eye, and I can see now that he was amused by -my out-spoken detestation of certain literary Philistines. He was -out-spoken, too, for he told me plainly that a volume of fairy stories I -had just published was not simple enough for the young. - -"What impressed me most at the time was not the drift of the -conversation, but the graciousness of Hawthorne. He expressed the -warmest interest in my affairs, and a willingness to serve me in every -possible way. In a word, he was the soul of kindness, and when I forget -him I shall have forgotten everything else." - -When Mr. Stoddard got back to New York, he received this letter:-- - - CONCORD, _March_ 16_th_, 1853. - - DEAR STODDARD: - - I beg your pardon for not writing before; but I have been very busy - and not particularly well. I enclose a letter to Atherton. Roll up - and pile up as much of a snow-ball as you can in the way of - political interest; for there never was a fiercer time than this - among the office-seekers.... - - Atherton is a man of rather cold exterior; but has a good heart--at - least for a politician of a quarter of a century's standing. If it - be certain that he cannot help you, he will probably tell you so. - Perhaps it would be as well for you to apply for some place that - has a literary fragrance about it--librarian to some - department--the office that Lanman held. I don't know whether there - is any other such office. Are you fond of brandy? Your strength of - head (which you tell me you possess) may stand you in good stead in - Washington; for most of these public men are inveterate guzzlers, - and love a man that can stand up to them in that particular. It - would never do to let them see you corned, however. But I must - leave you to find your way among them. If you have never associated - with them heretofore, you will find them a new class, and very - unlike poets. - - I have finished the "Tanglewood Tales," and they will make a volume - about the size of the "Wonder-Book," consisting of six myths--"The - Minotaur," "The Golden Fleece," "The Story of Proserpine," etc., - etc., etc., done up in excellent style, purified from all moral - stain, re-created good as new, or better--and fully equal, in their - way, to "Mother Goose." I never did anything so good as those old - baby-stories. - - In haste, - - Truly yours, - NATH. HAWTHORNE. - -Nothing could more succinctly illustrate the readiness of Hawthorne's -sympathies, and the companionable, cordial ease with which he treated a -new friend who approached him in the right way, one who caught his fancy -by a frank and simple independence, than this letter to Mr. Stoddard, -whom he had spoken with only twice. At that very time his old -disinclination to be intruded upon was as strong as ever; for Mr. Fields -relates how, just before Hawthorne sailed for England, they walked -together near the Old Manse and lay down in a secluded, grassy spot -beside the Concord River, to watch the clouds and hear the birds sing. -Suddenly, footsteps were heard approaching, and Hawthorne whispered in -haste, with much solemnity: "Duck! or we shall be interrupted by -somebody." So they were both obliged to prostrate themselves in the -grass until the saunterer had passed out of sight. - -The proposition to accept an office from Pierce was made to him as soon -as the new President was inaugurated. Although Hawthorne had considered -the possibility, as we have seen, and had decided what he could -advantageously take if it were offered, he also had grave doubts with -regard to taking any post whatever. When, therefore, the Liverpool -consulate was tendered to him, he at first positively declined it. -President Pierce, however, was much troubled by his refusal, and the -intervention of Hawthorne's publisher, Mr. Ticknor, was sought. Mr. -Ticknor urged him to reconsider, on the ground that it was a duty to his -family; and Hawthorne, who also naturally felt a strong desire to see -England, finally consented. His appointment was confirmed, March 26, -1853; but his predecessor was allowed, by resigning prospectively, to -hold over for five months; so that the departure for England was not -effected until the midsummer of 1853. - - - - -IV. - - -The twofold character of Hawthorne's mind is strongly manifested in the -diverse nature of the interests which occupied him in Europe, and the -tone with which he discussed them, alike in his journals, in his -letters, in "Our Old Home," and "The Marble Faun." On the one side, we -find the business-like official, attending methodically to the duties of -his place, the careful father of a family looking out for his personal -interests and the material welfare of his children in the future, the -keen and cool-headed observer who is determined to contemplate all the -novelties of strange scenes through no one's eyes but his own. On the -other side, he presents himself to us as the man of reverie, whose -observation of the actual constantly stimulates and brings into play a -faculty that perceives more than the actual; the delicate artist, whose -sympathies are ready and true in the appreciation of whatever is -picturesque or suggestive, or beautiful, whether in nature or in art. - -Some of the letters which he wrote from Liverpool to his classmate, -Horatio Bridge, throw light upon his own affairs and the deliberate way -in which he considered them. For instance, under date of March 30, 1854, -he wrote:-- - -"I like my office well enough, but my official duties and obligations -are irksome to me beyond expression. Nevertheless, the emoluments will -be a sufficient inducement to keep me here for four years, though they -are not a quarter part what people suppose them. The value of the office -varied between ten and fifteen thousand dollars during my predecessor's -term, and it promises about the same now. Secretary Guthrie, however, -has just cut off a large slice, by a circular.... Ask ---- to show you a -letter of mine, which I send by this steamer, for possible publication -in the newspapers. It contains a statement of my doings in reference to -the San Francisco [steamship] sufferers. The "Portsmouth Journal," it -appears, published an attack on me, accusing me of refusing all -assistance until compelled to act by Mr. Buchanan's orders; whereas I -acted extra-officially on my own responsibility, throughout the whole -affair. Buchanan refused to have anything to do with it. Alas! How we -public men are calumniated. But I trust there will be no necessity for -publishing my letter; for I desire only to glide noiselessly through my -present phase of life. - -"It sickens me to look back to America. I am sick to death of the -continual fuss and tumult, and excitement and bad blood, which we keep -up about political topics. If it were not for my children, I should -probably never return, but, after quitting office, should go to Italy, -to live and die there. If you and Mrs. Bridge would go, too, we might -form a little colony amongst ourselves, and see our children grow up -together. But it will never do to deprive them of their native land, -which, I hope, will be a more comfortable and happy residence in their -day than it has been in ours. In my opinion we are the most miserable -people on earth." It appears, further, that the appointment of a consul -for Manchester was contemplated, which, Hawthorne says, by withdrawing -some of the Liverpool perquisites, "would go far towards knocking this -consulate in the head." - -On April 17th, hearing that a bill had been introduced in Congress to -put consuls upon salary, instead of granting them fees, he wrote:-- - -"I trust to Heaven no change whatever will be made in regard to the -emoluments of the Liverpool consulate, unless indeed a salary is to be -given in addition to the fees, in which case I should receive it very -thankfully. This, however, is not to be expected.... A fixed salary -(even if it should be larger than any salary now paid by government, -with the exception of the President's own) will render the office not -worth any man's holding. It is impossible (especially for a man with a -family and keeping any kind of an establishment) not to spend a vast -deal of money here. The office, unfortunately, is regarded as one of -great dignity, and puts the holder on a level with the highest society, -and compels him to associate on equal terms with men who spend more than -my whole income on the mere entertainments and other trimmings and -embroideries of their lives. Then I am bound to exercise some -hospitality toward my own countrymen. I keep out of society as much as I -decently can, and really practise as stern an economy as ever I did in -my life; but nevertheless I have spent many thousands of dollars in the -few months of my residence here, and cannot reasonably hope to spend -less than $6,000 per annum, even after the expense of setting up an -establishment is defrayed. All this is for the merely indispensable part -of my living; and unless I make a hermit of myself and deprive my wife -and children of all the pleasures and advantages of an English -residence, I must inevitably exceed the sum named above.... It would be -the easiest thing in the world for me to run in debt, even taking my -income at $15,000" (out of which all the clerks and certain other office -expenses had to be paid), ... "the largest sum that it ever reached in -Crittenden's time. He had no family but a wife, and lived constantly at -a boarding-house, and, nevertheless, went away (as he assured me) with -an aggregate of only $25,000 derived from his savings. - -"Now the American public can never be made to understand such a -statement as the above; and they would grumble awfully if more than -$6,000 per annum were allowed for a consul's salary." But Hawthorne -concludes that it would not compensate him to retain the place with a -salary even of $10,000; and that if the emoluments should be reduced -from their then proportions, "the incumbent must be compelled to turn -his official position to account by engaging in commerce--a course which -ought not to be permitted, and which no Liverpool consul has ever -adopted." - -There are some references to President Pierce, in the Bridge -correspondence, which possess exceptional interest; but I cite only one -of them. The great honor of the immense publicity into which Pierce had -come as the executive head of the nation, and the centre upon which many -conflicting movements and machinations turned, created a danger of -misunderstandings with some of his early and intimate friends. In -discussing one such case Hawthorne writes (May 1, 1854), with regard to -maintaining a friendship for the President:-- - -"You will say that it is easy for me to feel thus towards him, since he -has done his very best on my behalf; but the truth is (alas for poor -human nature!) I should probably have loved him better if I had never -received any favor at his hands. But all this will come right again, -after both he and I shall have returned into private life. It is some -satisfaction, at any rate, that no one of his appointments was so -favorably criticized as my own; and he should have my resignation by the -very next mail, if it would really do him any good." - -Mr. Pike, who still held a post in the Salem Custom House, had written -to Hawthorne not long after his arrival in England, inquiring about the -prospect of obtaining some employment in the consular service there; and -Hawthorne replied, in a manner that leaves no doubt of his sagacity in -perceiving the exact situation of affairs, with its bearings for both -Pike and himself, nor of his determination neither to deceive himself -nor to give his friend any but the real reasons why he discouraged the -inquiry. - - "LIVERPOOL, _September_ 15, 1853. - - DEAR PIKE,--I have been intending to write to you this some time, - but wished to get some tolerably clear idea of the state of things - here before communicating with you. I find that I have three - persons in my office: the head-clerk, or vice-consul, at £200, the - second clerk at £150, and the messenger, who does some writing, at - £80. They are all honest and capable men, and do their duty to - perfection. No American would take either of these places for twice - the sums which they receive; and no American, without some months' - practice, would undertake the duty. Of the two I would rather - displace the vice-consul than the second clerk, who does a great - amount of labor, and has a remarkable variety of talent,--whereas - the old gentleman, though perfect in his own track, is nothing - outside of it. I will not part with either of these men unless - compelled to do so; and I don't think Secretary Marcy can compel - me. - - Now as to the Manchester branch, it brings me in only about £200. - There is a consular agent there, all the business being transacted - here in Liverpool. The only reason for appointing an agent would be - that it might shut off all attempts to get a separate consulate - there. There is no danger, I presume, of such an attempt for some - time to come; for Pierce made a direct promise that the place - should be kept open for my benefit. Nevertheless efforts will be - made to fill it, and very possibly representations may be made from - the business men of Manchester that there is necessity for a consul - there. In a pecuniary point of view, it would make very little - difference to me whether the place were filled by an independent - consul or by a vice-consul of my own appointment, for the latter - would of course not be satisfied with less than the whole £200. - What I should like would be to keep the place vacant and receive - the proceeds as long as possible, and at last, when I could do no - better, to give the office to you. No great generosity in that to - be sure. Thus I have put the matter fairly before you. Do you tell - me as frankly how your own affairs stand, and whether you can live - any longer in that cursed old Custom House without hanging - yourself. Rather than that you should do so I would let you have - the place to-morrow, although it would pay you about £100 less than - your present office. I suppose as a single man you might live - within your income in Manchester; but judging from my own - experience as a married man, it would be a very tight fit. With all - the economy I could use I have already got rid of $2,000 since - landing in England. Hereafter I hope to spend less and save more. - - In point of emolument, my office will turn out about what I - expected. If I have ordinary luck I shall bag from $5,000 to $7,000 - clear per annum: but to effect this I shall have to deny myself - many things which I would gladly have. Colonel Crittenden told me - that it cost him $4,000 to live with only his wife at a - boarding-house, including a journey to London now and then. I am - determined not to spend more than this, keeping house with my wife - and children. I have hired a good house furnished at £160, on the - other side of the River Mersey, at Rock Park, where there is good - air and play-ground for the children; and I can come over to the - city by steamboat every morning. I like the situation all the - better because it will render it impossible for me to go to - parties, or to give parties myself, and will keep me out of a good - deal of nonsense. - - Liverpool is the most detestable place as a residence that ever my - lot was cast in,--smoky, noisy, dirty, pestilential; and the - consulate is situated in the most detestable part of the city. The - streets swarm with beggars by day and by night. You never saw the - like; and I pray that you may never see it in America. It is worth - while coming across the sea in order to feel one's heart warm - towards his own country; and I feel it all the more because it is - plain to be seen that a great many of the Englishmen whom I meet - here dislike us, whatever they may pretend to the contrary. - - My family and myself have suffered very much from the elements; - there has not been what we should call a fair day since our - arrival, nor a single day when a fire would not be agreeable. I - long for one of our sunny days, and one of our good hearty rains. - It always threatens to rain, but seldom rains in good earnest. It - never _does_ rain, and it never _don't_ rain; but you are pretty - sure to get a sprinkling if you go out without an umbrella. Except - by the fireside, I have not once been as warm as I should like to - be: but the Englishmen call it a sultry day whenever the - thermometer rises above 60°. There has not been heat enough in - England this season to ripen an apple. - - My wife and children often talk of you. Even the baby has not - forgotten you. Write often, and say as much as you can about - yourself, and as little as you please about A----, N----, and - B----, and all the rest of those wretches of whom my soul was weary - to death before I made my escape. - - Your friend ever, - NATH. HAWTHORNE." - -Writing to Bridge again, November 28, 1854, he continues, with regard to -his consular prospects, by a comparison between the pay received by -English consuls and that allowed by the new bill to Americans. Only -$7,500 were to be paid the consul at Liverpool. "Now I employ three -clerks constantly," says Hawthorne "and sometimes more. The bill -provides that these clerks should be Americans; and the whole sum -allowed would not do much more than pay competent Americans, whose -salaries must be much higher than would content Englishmen of equal -qualifications. No consul can keep the office at this rate, without -engaging in business--which the bill forbids." He adds that the notion -that, by the proposed measure, a fund would be gained from the larger -consulates towards paying the salaries of the smaller ones, was -mistaken, since "a large part of the income of this consulate arises -from business which might just as well be transacted by a notary public -as by a consul, and which a consul is therefore not officially bound to -do. All such business as this the consul will cease to transact, the -moment the avails of it go into the public treasury, instead of his own -purse; and thus there will be an immediate falling off of the office to -a very considerable extent." - -Later on, he says: "I should really be ashamed to tell you how much my -income is taxed by the assistance which I find it absolutely necessary -to render to American citizens, who come to me in difficulty or -distress. Every day there is some new claimant, for whom the government -makes no provision, and whom the consul must assist, if at all, out of -his own pocket. It is impossible (or at any rate very disagreeable) to -leave a countryman to starve in the streets, or to hand him over to the -charities of an English work-house; so I do my best for these poor -devils. But I doubt whether they will meet with quite so good treatment -after the passage of the consular bill. If the government chooses to -starve the consul, a good many will starve with him." - -The bill, nevertheless, was passed. Lieutenant Bridge, who was then -stationed at Washington, had done all that he could to rouse an -effectual opposition to its enactment; and his friend wrote to him from -Liverpool (March 23, 1855) thus:-- - -"I thank you for your efforts against this bill; but Providence is wiser -than we are, and doubtless it will all turn out for the best. All -through my life, I have had occasion to observe that what seemed to be -misfortunes have proved, in the end, to be the best things that could -possibly have happened to me; and so it will be with this--even though -the mode in which it benefits me may never be made clear to my -apprehension. It would seem to be a desirable thing enough that I should -have had a sufficient income to live comfortably upon for the rest of my -life, without the necessity of labor; but, on the other hand, I might -have sunk prematurely into intellectual sluggishness--which now there -will be no danger of my doing; though with a house and land of my own, -and a good little sum at interest besides, I need not be under any very -great anxiety about the future. When I contrast my present situation -with what it was five years ago, I see a vast deal to be thankful for; -and I still hope to thrive by my legitimate instrument--the pen. One -consideration which goes very far towards reconciling me to quitting the -office is my wife's health, with which the climate of England does not -agree.... In short, we have wholly ceased to regret the action of -Congress (which, nevertheless, was most unjust and absurd), and are -looking at matters on the bright side. However, I shall be glad to get -what advantage I can out of the office, and therefore I hope Pierce will -give me as long a line as his conscience will let him." - -Believing that the office of consul with a salary reduced to $7,500, -which was only half the sum it had previously yielded in good years, -would not be worth the sacrifice involved in giving himself up to its -duties, he purposed resigning within a few months, taking a trip to -Italy, and then going home. But, fortunately for his pecuniary welfare, -the act of Congress had been so loosely framed (in harmony with the -general ignorance on which it was based), that it was left to the -President to reappoint old incumbents under the new system or not, as -he pleased. Pierce accordingly let Hawthorne's commission run on without -interruption, and the consul stayed through the rest of the -administration's term. - -While the matter was still in abeyance, however, the suggestion came -from Bridge that he allow himself to be transferred to Lisbon as -minister. The prospect was, in one way, seductive. Hawthorne was growing -anxious about his wife's health, and felt that nothing could be more -delightful than to take her to a warmer climate, which she needed, and -thus avoid the temporary separation which might have to be undergone if -he remained at Liverpool. The objections were, that he had no -acquaintance with diplomacy, did not know Portuguese, and disliked forms -and ceremonies. "You will observe," he wrote, "that the higher rank and -position of a minister, as compared with a consul, have no weight with -me. This is not the kind of honor of which I am ambitious." With a good -deal of hesitation he came to the belief that it would be wise for him -not to make the change. "But," he remarked, "it was a most kind and -generous thing on the part of the President to entertain the idea." His -friend, Mr. John O'Sullivan, who had been the founder and editor of the -"Democratic Review," to which Hawthorne had contributed copiously during -his residence at the Manse, was at this time accredited to the Court of -Lisbon, and would doubtless have been provided for in some other way had -Hawthorne been promoted to the place. The latter decided to stay at -Liverpool, but to send Mrs. Hawthorne to Lisbon, where she would find -not only milder air, but also friends in the minister and his wife. She -sailed with her daughters in October, 1855, and returned in the -following June. - -Wearisome as the details of his office duty were to him, Hawthorne gave -them more than a perfunctory attention. He became greatly aroused by the -wrongs and cruelties endured by sailors on the high seas, and sent a -long despatch on that subject to the Secretary of State, suggesting -action for their relief. He even investigated such minutiæ as the -candles used in the British navy, and sent samples of them to Bridge, -thinking that it might be desirable to compare them with those in use on -American war-ships. Opportunities, however, had occurred for several -trips in various directions, to Wales, Furness Abbey, and the Lakes. -London was visited just before Mrs. Hawthorne sailed; and during her -absence he again went to the capital, and made a tour which included -Glasgow, Edinburgh, York, Newcastle, and Salisbury. A few days before -her expected return, he said in a letter to Bridge that unless she -should prove to be perfectly free from the cough which had troubled her, -"I shall make arrangements to give up the consulate in the latter part -of autumn, and we will be off for Italy. I wish I were a little richer; -but when I compare my situation with what it was before I wrote 'The -Scarlet Letter,' I have reason to be satisfied with my run of luck. And, -to say the truth, I had rather not be _too_ prosperous: it may be a -superstition, but it seems to me that the bitter is very apt to come -with the sweet, and bright sunshine casts a dark shadow; so I content -myself with a moderate portion of sugar, and about as much sunshine as -that of an English summer's day. In this view of the matter, I am -disposed to thank God for the gloom and chill of my early life, in the -hope that my share of adversity came then, when I bore it alone; and -that therefore it need not come now, when the cloud would involve those -whom I love. - -"I make my plans to return to America in about two years from this time. -For my own part, I should be willing to stay abroad much longer, and -perhaps even to settle in Italy; but the children must not be kept away -so long as to lose their American characteristics; otherwise they will -be exiles and outcasts through life." - -The presidential convention of the democratic party was held early in -the summer of 1856, and Buchanan, then minister at the Court of St. -James, became the candidate. Pierce had also been in the field, but was -defeated, and concerning this circumstance Hawthorne wrote, -characteristically: "I am sorry Frank has not the nomination, if he -wished it. Otherwise, I am glad he is out of the scrape." - -During the earlier part of his consulship, Hawthorne leased a pleasant -dwelling at Rock Ferry, on the opposite side of the Mersey from -Liverpool, where he was able to live without going much into society; -and while Mrs. Hawthorne was in Portugal, he occupied simple quarters at -a boarding-house. Afterwards he settled at Southport for a number of -months, in a furnished house. He formed but one intimate friendship, -that which attached him to Mr. Henry Bright, a gentleman engaged in -business, but gifted with a quick and sympathetic mind and a taste for -literature. In London his chief friend was Mr. Francis Bennoch, also a -merchant, who consorted much with people of creative genius, and -delighted to gather them at his table, where they were entertained with -a cordial and charming hospitality. Mr. Bright and Mr. Bennoch have each -published a book since then; but although Hawthorne met many persons -eminent in literature, and enjoyed meeting them, it was not with any of -their number that he formed the closest ties. - -With relief he heard in April, 1857, that his resignation had been -accepted. "Dear Bridge," he wrote, "I have received your letter, and the -not unwelcome intelligence that there is another Liverpool consul now in -existence.... I am going to Paris in a day or two, with my wife and -children, and shall leave them there while I return here to await my -successor." He then thanked Bridge for a newspaper paragraph which the -latter had caused to be printed, explaining Hawthorne's position in -resigning. "I was somewhat apprehensive that my resignation would have -been misunderstood," he proceeded, "in consequence of a letter of -General Cass to Lord Napier, in which he intimated that any consul found -delinquent in certain matters should be compelled to retire.... But for -your paragraph, I should have thought it necessary to enlighten the -public on the true state of the case as regards the treatment of seamen -on our merchant vessels, and I do not know but I may do it yet; in which -case I shall prove that General Cass made a most deplorable mistake in -the above-mentioned letter to Lord Napier. I shall send the despatch to -Ticknor, at any rate, for publication if necessary. I expect great -pleasure during my stay on the Continent, and shall come home at last -somewhat reluctantly. Your pledge on my behalf of a book shall be -honored in good time, if God pleases." - -The intention of taking his family at once to Paris was given up, and -instead Hawthorne went with them to Manchester, the Lakes, and Scotland, -and made a pilgrimage to Warwick and Coventry, besides visiting many -other places. The new consul, however, postponed his coming until near -the end of 1857. Not before January, 1858, did Hawthorne break away from -the fascinations of England and cross to the Continent. When, after -spending more than a year and a half in Italy, he again set foot in -England, it was to establish himself at Redcar, a sea-side town in -Yorkshire, where he finished "The Marble Faun" in October, 1859; and -thence he betook himself to Leamington, which had greatly pleased him on -a previous visit. Here his old friend, Mr. Hillard, called upon him; and -in an article printed in the "Atlantic Monthly," in 1870, he says: "The -writer of this notice, who confesses to an insatiable passion for the -possession of books, and an omnivorous appetite for their contents, was -invited by him into his study, the invitation being accompanied with one -of his peculiar and indescribable smiles, in which there lurked a -consciousness of his (the writer's) weakness. The study was a small -square room, with a table and chair, but absolutely not a single book. -He liked writing better than reading." Mr. Hillard's implication, -however, is a misleading one. "Hawthorne," says Mr. Fields, "was a -hearty devourer of books, and in certain moods of mind it made very -little difference what the volume before him happened to be.... He once -told me that he found such delight in old advertisements in the -newspaper files at the Boston Athenæum, that he had passed delicious -hours among them. At other times he was very fastidious, and threw aside -book after book, until he found the right one. De Quincey was a favorite -with him, and the sermons of Laurence Sterne he once commended to me as -the best sermons ever written." His correspondence was not "literary," -to be sure; but in his letters to Mr. Fields, who had to do so -especially with books, occasional references to literature escape him, -which did not ordinarily find their way into his letters to other -people. From England, in 1854, he wrote to that gentleman: "I thank you -for the books you sent me, and more especially for Mrs. Mowatt's -'Autobiography,' which seems to me an admirable book. Of all things I -delight in autobiographies; and I hardly ever read one that interested -me so much." He did not read for erudition or for criticism, but he -certainly read much, and books were companions to him. I have seen -several catalogues of libraries which Hawthorne had marked carefully, -proving that, although he made no annotations, he had studied the titles -with a natural reader's loving fondness. His stay at Leamington was but -a brief one, and for that reason he may well have been without books in -his study at the moment; he never crowded them about himself, in the -rooms where he worked, but his tower-study at The Wayside always -contained a few volumes, and a few small pictures and ornaments--enough -to relieve his eye or suggest a refreshment to his mind, without -distracting him from composition or weakening the absorbed intensity of -his thought. - -The only approach to literary exertion made at Liverpool seems to have -been the revision of the "Mosses from an Old Manse," for a reissue at -the hands of Ticknor & Fields; employment which led to some reflections -upon his own earlier works. - -"I am very glad that the 'Mosses' have come into the hands of our firm; -and I return the copy sent me, after a careful revision. When I wrote -those dreamy sketches, I little thought I should ever preface an edition -for the press amid the bustling life of a Liverpool consulate. Upon my -honor, I am not quite sure that I entirely comprehend my own meaning, -in some of those blasted allegories; but I remember that I always had a -meaning, or at least thought I had. I am a good deal changed since those -times; and, to tell you the truth, my past self is not very much to my -taste, as I see myself in this book. Yet certainly there is more in it -than the public generally gave me credit for at the time it was written. - -"But I don't think myself worthy of very much more credit than I got. It -has been a very disagreeable task to read the book." - -He was inveigled, however, into giving encouragement to that unfortunate -woman, Miss Delia Bacon, who was engaged in the task of proving that -Lord Bacon wrote Shakespeare's plays. He corresponded with her on the -subject, and finally agreed, although not assenting to her theory, to -write a preface for her book, which he did. She was dissatisfied because -he did not accept her views entirely, grew very angry, and even broke -off all relations with him, notwithstanding that he had paid the -expenses of publication for her. - -Arriving at Rome in February, 1858, Hawthorne lingered there until late -in May, when he retired to Florence, and hired there the Villa Montauto, -in the suburb of Bellosguardo. October found him again in Rome, where he -spent the winter; leaving the Continent, finally, in June, 1859, for -England and Redcar. - -"I am afraid I have stayed away too long," he wrote from Bellosguardo, -to Mr. Fields, in September, 1858, "and am forgotten by everybody. You -have piled up the dusty remnants of my editions, I suppose, in that -chamber over the shop, where you once took me to smoke a cigar, and have -crossed my name out of your list of authors, without so much as asking -whether I am dead or alive. But I like it well enough, nevertheless. It -is pleasant to feel that at last I am away from America,--a satisfaction -that I never enjoyed as long as I stayed in Liverpool, where it seemed -to me that the quintessence of nasal and hand-shaking Yankeedom was -continually filtered and sublimated through my consulate, on the way -outward and homeward. I first got acquainted with my own countrymen -there. At Rome, too, it was not much better. But here in Florence, and -in the summer-time, and in this secluded villa, I have escaped from all -my old tracks and am really remote. - -"I like my present residence immensely. The house stands on a hill, -overlooking Florence, and is big enough to quarter a regiment; insomuch -that each member of the family, including servants, has a separate suite -of apartments, and there are vast wildernesses of upper rooms, into -which we have never yet sent exploring expeditions. - -"At one end of the house there is a moss-grown tower haunted by the -ghost of a monk, who was confined there in the thirteenth century, -previous to being burned at the stake in the principal square of -Florence. I hire this villa, tower and all, at twenty-eight dollars a -month; but I mean to take it away bodily and clap it into a romance -which I have in my head ready to be written out." Turning to the topic -of home, he went on: "After so long an absence (more than five years -already, which will be six before you see me at the Old Corner), it is -not altogether delightful to think of returning. Everybody will be -changed, and I, myself, no doubt, as much as anybody.... It won't do. I -shall be forced to come back again and take refuge in a London lodging. -London is like the grave in one respect,--any man can make himself at -home there; and whenever a man finds himself homeless elsewhere, he had -better either die or go to London. - -"Speaking of the grave reminds me of old age and other disagreeable -matters, and I would remark that one grows old in Italy twice or three -times as fast as in other countries. I have three gray hairs now for one -that I brought from England, and I shall look venerable indeed by the -time I return next summer." - -The "French and Italian Note-Books" are more prolific in literary hints -than the English. At Rome and Florence the practical self, which was -necessarily brought forward in the daily round at the consulate and left -its impress on the letters to Lieutenant Bridge, retired into the -background under the influence of scenes more purely picturesque and -poetic than those of England; and the idealizing, imaginative faculty of -Hawthorne, being freed from the restraint which had so long cramped it, -gained in elasticity from day to day. Four years of confinement to -business, broken only at intervals by short episodes of travel, had done -no more than impede the current of fancy; had not dried it, nor choked -the source. Mr. Fields assures us that, in England, Hawthorne told him -he had no less than five romances in his mind, so well planned that he -could write any one of them at short notice. But it is significant that, -however favorable Italy might be for drawing out and giving free course -to this current, he could do little there in the way of embodying his -conceptions. He wrote out an extensive first draft of "The Marble Faun" -while moving from place to place on the actual ground where the story is -laid; but the work itself was written at Redcar, and in the -communication last quoted from he had said: "I find this Italian -atmosphere not favorable to the close toil of composition, although it -is a very good air to dream in. I must breathe the fogs of old England, -or the east-winds of Massachusetts, in order to put me into -working-trim." Conditions other than physical were most probably -responsible, in part, for this state of things. Strong as Hawthorne's -nature was on the side of the real, the ideal force within him was so -much more puissant, that when circumstances were all propitious--as they -were in Italy--it obtained too commanding a sway over him. His dreams, -in such case, would be apt to overcome him, to exist simply for their -own sake instead of being subordinated to his will; and, in fine, to -expend their witchery upon the air, instead of being imprisoned in the -enduring form of a book. Being compounded in such singular wise of -opposing qualities: the customary, prudential, common sensible ones, and -the wise and visionary ones--the outward reticence, and (if we may say -so) the inward eloquence--of which we now have a clearer view; being so -compounded, he positively needed something stern and adverse in his -surroundings, it should seem, both as a satisfaction to the sturdier -part of him, and as a healthful check which, by exciting reaction, would -stimulate his imaginative mood. He must have precisely the right -proportion between these counter influences, or else creation could not -proceed. In the Salem Custom House and at the Liverpool consulate there -had been too much of the hard commonplace: instead of serving as a -convenient foil to the more expansive and lightsome tendencies of his -genius, it had weighed them down. But in Italy there was too much -freedom, not enough framework of the severe, the roughly real and -unpicturesque. Hawthorne's intellectual and poetic nature presents a -spectacle somewhat like that of a granite rock upon which delicate vines -flourish at their best; but he was himself both rock and vine. The -delicate, aspiring tendrils and the rich leafage of the plant, however, -required a particular combination of soil and climate, in order to grow -well. When he was not hemmed in by the round of official details, -England afforded him that combination in bounteous measure. - -On the publication of "The Marble Faun," the author's friend, John -Lothrop Motley, with whom he had talked, of the contemplated romance, in -Rome, wrote to him from Walton-on-Thames (March 29, 1860):-- - -"Everything that you have ever written, I believe, I have read many -times, and I am particularly vain of having admired 'Sights from a -Steeple,' when I first read it in the Boston 'Token,' several hundred -years ago, when we were both younger than we are now; of having detected -and cherished, at a later day, an old Apple-Dealer, whom I believe you -have unhandsomely thrust out of your presence now that you are grown so -great. But the 'Romance of Monte Beni' has the additional charm for me, -that it is the first book of yours that I have read since I had the -privilege of making your personal acquaintance. My memory goes back at -once to those walks (alas, not too frequent) we used to take along the -Tiber, or in the Campagna ... and it is delightful to get hold of the -book now, and know that it is impossible for you any longer, after -waving your wand as you occasionally did then, indicating where the -treasure was hidden, to sink it again beyond plummet's sound. - -"I admire the book exceedingly.... It is one which, for the first -reading at least, I didn't like to hear aloud.... If I were composing an -article for a review, of course I should feel obliged to show cause for -my admiration; but I am only obeying an impulse. Permit me to say, -however, that your style seems, if possible, more perfect than ever.... -Believe me, I don't say to you half what I say behind your back; and I -have said a dozen times that nobody can write English but you. With -regard to the story, which has been somewhat criticized, I can only say -that to me it is quite satisfactory. I like those shadowy, weird, -fantastic, Hawthornesque shapes flitting through the golden gloom, which -is the atmosphere of the book. I like the misty way in which the story -is indicated rather than revealed; the outlines are quite definite -enough from the beginning to the end, to those who have imagination -enough to follow you in your airy flights.... The way in which the two -victims dance through the Carnival on the last day is very striking. It -is like a Greek tragedy in its effect, without being in the least -Greek." - -In this last sentence Mr. Motley struck out an apt distinction; for it -is perhaps the foremost characteristic of Hawthorne as a writer that his -fictions possessed a plastic repose, a perfection of form, which made -them akin to classic models, at the same time that the spirit was -throughout eminently that belonging to the mystic, capricious, irregular -fantasy of the North. - -Hawthorne thus made answer from Bath (April 1, 1860):-- - - MY DEAR MOTLEY,--You are certainly that Gentle Reader for whom all - my books were exclusively written. Nobody else (my wife excepted, - who speaks so near me that I cannot tell her voice from my own) has - ever said exactly what I love to hear. It is most satisfactory to - be hit upon the raw, to be shot straight through the heart. It is - not the quantity of your praise that I care so much about (though I - gather it all up carefully, lavish as you are of it), but the kind, - for you take the book precisely as I meant it; and if your note had - come a few days sooner, I believe I would have printed it in a - postscript which I have added to the second edition, because it - explains better than I found possible to do the way in which my - romance ought to be taken.... Now don't suppose that I fancy the - book to be a tenth part as good as you say it is. You work out my - imperfect efforts, and half make the book with your warm - imagination, and see what I myself saw but could only hint at. - Well, the romance is a success, even if it never finds another - reader. - - We spent the winter in Leamington, whither we had come from the - sea-coast in October. I am sorry to say that it was another winter - of sorrow and anxiety.... I have engaged our passages for June - 16th.... Mrs. Hawthorne and the children will probably remain in - Bath till the eve of our departure; but I intend to pay one more - visit of a week or two to London, and shall certainly come and see - you. I wonder at your lack of recognition of my social - propensities. I take so much delight in my friends, that a little - intercourse goes a great way, and illuminates my life before and - after.... - - Your friend, - NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. - -One may well linger here, for an instant, over the calm, confident, but -deeply vibrating happiness from which those words sprang, concerning his -wife, "who speaks so near me that I cannot tell her voice from my own;" -and one may profitably lay away, for instruction, the closing lines,--"I -take so much delight in my friends, that a little intercourse goes a -great way." The allusion to "another winter of sorrow and anxiety" -carries us back to the previous winter, passed in Rome, during which -Hawthorne's elder daughter underwent a prolonged attack of Roman fever. -Illness again developed itself in his family while they were staying at -Leamington. - -In February of 1860 he wrote to Mr. Fields, who was then in Italy:-- - -"I thank you most heartily for your kind wishes in favor of the -forthcoming work ['The Marble Faun'], and sincerely join my own prayers -to yours in its behalf, without much confidence of a good result. My own -opinion is, that I am not really a popular writer, and that what -popularity I have gained is chiefly accidental, and owing to other -causes than my own kind or degree of merit. Possibly I may (or may not) -deserve something better than popularity; but looking at all my -productions, and especially this latter one, with a cold or critical -eye, I can see that they do not make their appeal to the popular mind. -It is odd enough, moreover, that my own individual taste is for quite -another class of works than those which I myself am able to write. If I -were to meet with such books as mine by another writer, I don't believe -I should be able to get through them." At another time he had written of -Anthony Trollope's novels: "They precisely suit my taste; solid and -substantial, written on the strength of beef and through the -inspiration of ale, and just as real as if some giant had hewn a great -lump out of the earth and put it under a glass case, with all its -inhabitants going about their daily business and not suspecting that -they were made a show of." - -Before leaving England for the last time, Hawthorne went up alone to -London, and spent a week or two among his friends there, staying with -Motley, and meeting Lord Dufferin, the Honorable Mrs. Norton, Leigh -Hunt, Barry Cornwall, and many other agreeable and noted persons. "You -would be stricken dumb," he wrote to his wife, who remained at Bath, "to -see how quietly I accept a whole string of invitations, and, what is -more, perform my engagements without a murmur.... The stir of this -London life, somehow or other, has done me a wonderful deal of good, and -I feel better than for months past. This is strange, for if I had my -choice, I should leave undone almost all the things I do." In the midst -of these social occupations he gave sittings to a young German-American -sculptor named Kuntze, who modelled a profile portrait of him in -bas-relief. A farewell dinner was given him at Barry Cornwall's; and in -June, 1860, he sailed for America, from which he had been absent seven -years. - -There was not yet any serious sign of a failure in his health; but the -illness in his family, lasting through two winters, had worn severely -upon him; his spirits had begun to droop. "I would gladly journalize -some of my proceedings, and describe things and people; but I find the -same coldness and stiffness in my pen as always since our return to -England:" thus he had written in his Note-Book, while making that final -London visit. In Italy, however, he had already shown symptoms of -fatigue, saying to Mr. Fields: "I have had so many interruptions from -things to see and things to suffer, that the story ['The Marble Faun'] -has developed itself in a very imperfect way.... I could finish it in -the time that I am to remain here, but my brain is tired of it just -now." The voyage put fresh vigor into him, apparently. Mrs. Harriet -Beecher Stowe and Professor Stowe were on board, with their daughters, -and Mr. Fields, who was also a passenger, has said: "Hawthorne's love -for the sea amounted to a passionate worship, and while I (the worst -sailor probably on this planet) was longing, spite of the good company -on board, to reach land as soon as possible, Hawthorne was constantly -saying in his quiet, earnest way, 'I should like to sail on and on -forever, and never touch the shore again.'" His inherited susceptibility -to the fascination of the sea no doubt intensified his enjoyment, and he -is reported to have talked in a strain of delightful humor while on -shipboard. - -For nearly a year after his return to The Wayside, there is an -uneventful gap in his history, concerning which we have very few -details. He set about improving his house, and added to it a wing at the -back, which, having three stories, rose above the rest of the building, -and thus supplied him with a study in the top room, which had the effect -of a tower. Meanwhile the political quarrel between the North and the -South was rapidly culminating; in a few months the Slave States began -their secession, and the Civil War broke out. This affected Hawthorne so -deeply that for some time he was unable to engage in imaginative work, -and he now relinquished the custom he had maintained for so many years, -of keeping a journal. But there are letters which define his state of -mind, which make his position clear with regard to the question of the -Union, and show the change in his feeling brought on by the course of -events. - -Several years before, while he was still consul, he thus confided to -Bridge (January 9, 1857) his general opinion respecting the crisis which -even then impended:-- - -"I regret that you think so doubtfully of the prospects of the Union; -for I should like well enough to hold on to the old thing. And yet I -must confess that I sympathize to a large extent with the Northern -feeling, and think it is about time for us to make a stand. If compelled -to choose, I go for the North. At present, we have no country--at least, -none in the sense in which an Englishman has a country. I never -conceived, in reality, what a true and warm love of country is, till I -witnessed it in the breasts of Englishmen. The States are too various -and too extended to form really one country. New England is quite as -large a lump of earth as my heart can really take in.... However, I have -no kindred with nor leaning toward the Abolitionists." - -When hostilities had begun, he wrote to the same friend, May 26, 1861:-- - -"The war, strange to say, has had a beneficial effect upon my spirits, -which were flagging woefully before it broke out. But it was delightful -to share in the heroic sentiment of the time, and to feel that I had a -country, a consciousness which seemed to make me young again. One thing -as regards this matter I regret, and one thing I am glad of. The -regrettable thing is that I am too old to shoulder a musket myself, and -the joyful thing is that Julian is too young. He drills constantly with -a company of lads, and means to enlist as soon as he reaches the minimum -age. But I trust we shall either be victorious or vanquished by that -time. Meantime, though I approve the war as much as any man, I don't -quite see what we are fighting for or what definite result can be -expected. If we pommel the South ever so hard, they will love us none -the better for it; and even if we subjugate them, our next step should -be to cut them adrift, if we are fighting for the annihilation of -slavery. To be sure, it may be a wise object, and offers a tangible -result and the only one which is consistent with a future union between -North and South. A continuance of the war would soon make this plain to -us, and we should see the expediency of preparing our black brethren for -future citizenship, by allowing them to fight for their own liberties -and educating them through heroic influences. Whatever happens next, I -must say that I rejoice that the old Union is smashed. We never were one -people, and never really had a country since the Constitution was -formed." - -Thus, then, Hawthorne, who had been brought up politically within the -democratic party and thrice held office under its _régime_, had reached -the conclusion, four years in advance of the event, that it was time for -the North to "make a stand"; and now, while muskets rattled their grim -prelude to a long and deadly conflict, he planted himself firmly on the -side of the government--was among the first, moreover, to resolve upon -that policy of arming the negroes, which was so bitterly opposed and so -slow of adoption among even progressive reformers at the North. In his -solitude, out of the current of affairs, trying to pursue his own -peaceful, artistic calling, and little used to making utterances on -public questions, it was not incumbent upon him nor proper to his -character to blazon his beliefs where every one could see them. But, -these private expressions being unknown, his silence was construed -against him. One more reference to the war, occurring in a letter of -October 12, 1861, to Lieutenant Bridge, should be recorded in this -place:-- - -"I am glad you take such a hopeful view of our national prospects, so -far as regards the war.... For my part, I don't hope (nor indeed wish) -to see the Union restored as it was; amputation seems to me much the -better plan, and all we ought to fight for is the liberty of selecting -the point where our diseased members shall be lopped off. I would fight -to the death for the Northern Slave-States, and let the rest go.... I -have not found it possible to occupy my mind with its usual trash and -nonsense during these anxious times; but as the autumn advances, I find -myself sitting down to my desk and blotting successive sheets of paper, -as of yore. Very likely I may have something ready for the public long -before the public is ready to receive it." - -It will be seen that he was not hopeful as to the restoration of the -entire Union, adhered to his first view indeed, that the scission of a -part would be preferable. In declining a cordial invitation from Bridge -to come to Washington, in February, 1862, he gave renewed emphasis to -this opinion. "I am not very well," he said, "being mentally and -physically languid; but I suppose there is an even chance that the trip -and change of scene might supply the energy which I lack." He announced -that he had begun a new romance, and then turning to the questions of -the day, remarked that he "should not much regret an ultimate -separation," and that soon; adding that if a strong Union sentiment -should not set in at the South, we ought to resolve ourselves into two -nations at once. He was evidently growing despondent; a fact which may -have been due in part to the physical and mental languor of which he -told his friend. Misfortune had once more entered his household; for one -of his children was suffering from a peculiarly distressing malady, -which imposed a heavy strain upon his nerves and troubled his heart. -More than this, he mourned over the multitude of private griefs which he -saw or apprehended on every side--griefs resulting from the slaughter -that was going on at the seat of war--as acutely as if they had been his -own losses. He could not shut out, by any wall of patriotic fire, the -terrible shapes of fierce passion and the pathetic apparitions of those -whose lives had been blasted by the tragedies of the field. His health, -we have already noticed, had begun to falter while he was still abroad. -Neither was he free from pecuniary anxieties. He had laid up a modest -accumulation from his earnings in the consulate; but the additions to -his house, unambitious though they were, had cost a sum which was large -in proportion to his resources; the expense of living was increased by -the war, and his pen was for the time being not productive. His income -from his books was always scanty. He was too scrupulous to be willing to -draw upon the principal which had been invested for the future support -of his family; and there were times when he was harassed by the need of -money. All these causes conspired to reduce his strength; but the -omnipresent misery of the war, and the destruction of the Union, which -he believed to be inevitable, were perhaps the chief adverse factors in -the case. "Hawthorne's life," Mr. Lowell has said to me, "was shortened -by the war." - -The romance mentioned as having been begun during this winter of -1861-62, was probably "Dr. Grimshawe's Secret," the first scheme of -which appears as "The Ancestral Footstep;" and it was afterwards merged -in "Septimius Felton." Hawthorne, however, did not make satisfactory -progress with this work; and throughout the summer of 1862 he seems to -have given such energies as he could command to the preparation of the -chapters of travel subsequently collected under the title, "Our Old -Home." The latter volume appeared at a time of fervid, nay, violent -public excitement, caused by the critical state of military matters, the -unpopularity of the draft, the increasing boldness of the democratic -party at the North in opposing the war and demanding its cessation. To -Hawthorne it appeared no more than just that he should dedicate his book -to the friend whose public act, in sending him abroad in the government -service, had made it possible for him to gather the materials he had -embodied in these reminiscences. But his publisher, Mr. Fields, knowing -that ex-President Pierce was very generally held to be culpable for his -deference towards Southern leaders who had done much to bring on the -war, and that he was ranked among the men who were ready to vote against -continuing the attempt to conquer the Confederacy, foresaw the clamor -which would be raised against Hawthorne if, at such a moment, he linked -his name publicly with that of Pierce. He remonstrated upon the proposed -dedication. But Hawthorne was not to be turned aside from his purpose by -any dread of an outcry which he considered unjust. "I find," he -replied, "that it would be a piece of poltroonery in me to withdraw -either the dedication or the dedicatory letter, ... and if he [Pierce] -is so exceedingly unpopular that his name is enough to sink the volume, -there is so much the more need that an old friend should stand by him. I -cannot, merely on account of pecuniary profit or literary reputation, go -back from what I have deliberately felt and thought it right to do; and -if I were to tear out the dedication, I should never look at the volume -again without remorse and shame.... If the public of the North see fit -to ostracize me for this, I can only say that I would gladly sacrifice a -thousand or two of dollars rather than retain the good-will of such a -herd of dolts and mean-spirited scoundrels." The language did not lack -vigor and warmth; but Dr. Loring has stated that he spoke of the matter -to the same effect, "not in the heat of passion, but with a calm and -generous courage." The dedicatory letter was printed, of course, and -drew down upon Hawthorne abundant condemnation; but he had maintained -his integrity. - -The shock of such an accident was by no means the right sort of tonic -for a man of Hawthorne's sensitive disposition when he was already -feeble and almost ill. In April, 1862, he had been to Washington, and -the things that impressed him there were noted down in an "Atlantic -Monthly" paper, entitled "Chiefly About War Matters." At Washington, -also, Leutze painted a portrait of him for General Pierce. In July, he -took a brief trip with his son to the Maine coast, and began a new -journal. There were no other changes of scene for him; the monotony of -his life at The Wayside was seldom broken. That this period was for him -one of unmitigated gloom cannot truthfully be predicated; he enjoyed -his home, he had the society of his wife and children; he had many small -and quiet pleasures. But there was likewise much to make him sorrowful, -and the tide of vitality was steadily ebbing away. In May, 1863, James -Russell Lowell invited him to Elmwood, and Hawthorne agreed to go, but -he was finally prevented from doing so by a troublesome cold. The slow -and mysterious disease, which was to prove fatal within a year, -continued to make inroads upon his constitution. After the publication -of "Our Old Home," in the autumn of 1863, there is no certain record of -his condition or his proceedings, beyond this, that he went on -declining, and that--having abandoned the two preceding phases of his -new fiction--he attempted to write the resultant form of it, which was -to have been brought out as "The Dolliver Romance." - -Although the title had not yet been determined upon, he consented to -begin a serial publication of the work in the "Atlantic Monthly" for -January, 1864. But he wrote to Mr. Fields: "I don't see much probability -of my having the first chapter of the Romance ready so soon as you want -it. There are two or three chapters ready to be written, but I am not -yet robust enough to begin, and I feel as if I should never carry it -through.... I can think of no title for the unborn Romance. Always -heretofore I have waited till it was quite complete, before attempting -to name it, and I fear I shall have to do so now." On the 1st of -December, he dispatched the manuscript of the first chapter, with the -title of the whole. But he could not follow it up with more, and wrote, -about the middle of January, 1864: "I am not quite up to writing yet, -but shall make an effort as soon as I see any hope of success." At the -end of February: "I hardly know what to say to the public about this -abortive Romance, though I know pretty well what the case will be. I -shall never finish it..., I cannot finish it unless a great change comes -over me; and if I make too great an effort to do so, it will be my -death." From this time on he accomplished no work which he was willing -to send to the press, although he had among his papers the two -fragmentary scenes from "The Dolliver Romance" that were posthumously -printed. - -The wife of ex-President Pierce died in December, 1863, and Hawthorne -went to New Hampshire to attend the funeral. When he passed through -Boston, on his return, he appeared to Mr. Fields ill and more nervous -than usual. Dreary events seemed to thicken around his path. In the last -days of March, 1864, Mr. Fields saw him again; and by this time his -appearance had greatly changed. "The light in his eye was as beautiful -as ever, but his limbs were shrunken, and his usual stalwart vigor [was] -utterly gone." A photograph taken not long before that date represents -him with cheeks somewhat emaciated, and a worn, strangely anxious, -half-appealing expression, which, while singularly delicate and noble, -is extremely sad. Soon after this, in March, he set out for Washington -with Mr. William Ticknor, Mr. Fields's senior partner in the publishing -firm of Ticknor & Fields. The travelling companions spent two or three -days in New York, and had got as far as Philadelphia, when Mr. Ticknor -was taken suddenly ill, at the Continental Hotel, and died the next day. -Stunned, wellnigh shattered by this sinister event, Hawthorne was almost -incapacitated for action of any sort; but there were kind and ready -friends in Philadelphia who came to his aid, and relieved him from the -melancholy duty which he would else have had to meet. He returned to -Concord, in what forlorn state an extract from a letter of Mrs. -Hawthorne's may best convey: "He came back unlooked for, that day; and -when I heard a step on the piazza, I was lying on a couch and feeling -quite indisposed. But as soon as I saw him I was frightened out of all -knowledge of myself,--so haggard, so white, so deeply scored with pain -and fatigue was the face, so much more ill than ever I saw him before." -Mrs. Hawthorne still hoped for some favorable turn, if he could but -obtain a complete change of scene and escape from the austere New -England spring, into some warmer climate. "He has not smiled since he -came home till to-day," she wrote, "when I made him laugh, with -Thackeray's humor, in reading to him." She was constant in her care; she -would scarcely let him go up and down stairs alone. But not the most -tender solicitude, nor any encouragement of unquenchable hope, could now -avail to help him. - -The only stratagem that could be devised to win back health and strength -was the plan proposed by General Pierce, to take Hawthorne with him on -an easy journey by carriage into New Hampshire. They started in -May,--the two old college-mates; the ex-President so lately widowed and -still in the shadow of his own bereavement, with the famous romancer so -mournfully broken, who was never more to be seen in life by those to -whom he was dearest. From the Pemigewasset House at Plymouth, New -Hampshire, where they had stopped for the night, General Pierce sent the -news on May 19, that Hawthorne was dead. "He retired last night," wrote -the General, "soon after nine o'clock, and soon fell into a quiet -slumber.... At two o'clock I went to H----'s bedside; he was apparently -in a sound sleep; and I did not place my hand upon him. At four o'clock -I went into his room again, and, as his position was unchanged, I placed -my hand upon him and found that life was extinct.... He must have passed -from natural slumber to that from which there is no waking, without the -slightest movement." - -Hawthorne was buried in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery at Concord, on the 24th -of May, 1864. The grave was made beneath the shadowing pines of a hill -near one of the borders of the beautiful, wooded burial-ground, whence -there is a peaceful view over the valley of the Concord River. It was -close to the slope where Thoreau now lies, and not far away is the -grassy resting-place of Emerson. The spot was one for which Hawthorne -had cherished an especial fondness. Emerson, that day, stood beside the -grave, and with him Longfellow and Lowell were present; Agassiz, Holmes, -James Freeman Clarke, Edwin Whipple, Pierce, and Hillard, had all -assembled to pay their last reverence. A great multitude of people -attended the funeral service at the old Unitarian First Church in the -village, and Mr. Clarke, who had performed the marriage ceremony for -Hawthorne, conducted the rites above him dead. It was a perfect day of -spring; the roadside banks were blue with violets, the orchards were in -bloom; and lilies of the valley, which were Hawthorne's favorites among -flowers, had blossomed early as if for him, and were gathered in masses -about him. Like a requiem chant, the clear strains that Longfellow wrote -in memory of that hour still echo for us its tender solemnity:-- - - "How beautiful it was, that one bright day - In the long week of rain! - Though all its splendor could not chase away - The omnipresent pain. - - "The lovely town was white with apple-blooms, - And the great elms o'erhead - Dark shadows wove on their aerial looms, - Shot through with golden thread. - - "Across the meadows, by the gray old manse, - The historic river flowed; - I was as one who wanders in a trance, - Unconscious of his road. - - "The faces of familiar friends seemed strange; - Their voices I could hear, - And yet the words they uttered seemed to change - Their meaning to the ear. - - "For the one face I looked for was not there, - The one low voice was mute; - Only an unseen presence filled the air, - And baffled my pursuit. - - "Now I look back, and meadow, manse, and stream - Dimly my thought defines; - I only see--a dream within a dream-- - The hill-top hearsed with pines. - - "I only hear above his place of rest - Their tender undertone, - The infinite longings of a troubled breast, - The voice so like his own. - - "There in seclusion and remote from men - The wizard hand lies cold, - Which at its topmost speed let fall the pen, - And left the tale half told. - - "Ah, who shall lift that wand of magic power, - And the lost clue regain? - The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower - Unfinished must remain!" - - - - -V. - - -This narrative of his career, in one sense so simple, so uneventful, has -brought chiefly to the front, as we have followed it, a phase under -which Hawthorne appears the most like other men; with motives easily -understood, wishing to take his full share in human existence and its -responsibilities; devoted in his domestic relations. Moderately -ambitious of worldly welfare, but in poverty uncomplaining, he is so -coolly practical in his view that he scarcely alludes to the products of -his genius except as they may bear upon his material progress. Even this -much of the character is uncommon, because of its sterling tone, the -large, sustained manliness, and the success with which in the main it -keeps itself firmly balanced; but it is a character not difficult to -grasp, and one that appeals to every observer. It leaves out a great -deal, however. The artist is absent from it. Neither is that essential -mystery of organization included which held these elements together, -united them with something of import far different, and converted the -whole nature into a most extraordinary one, lifting it to a plane high -above that on which it might, at first, seem to rest. - -We know, from brief allusions in his "Note-Books," that Hawthorne was -perfectly well aware of his high quality as an artist. He speaks of -having won fame in his dismal room in Herbert Street; and at Arezzo, in -1858, the well "opposite Petrarch's birth-house" which Boccaccio -introduced into one of his stories, recalls to the American writer one -of his own performances. "As I lingered round it I thought of my own -town-pump in old Salem, and wondered whether my towns-people would ever -point it out to strangers, and whether the stranger would gaze at it -with any degree of such interest as I felt in Boccaccio's well. Oh, -certainly not; but I made that humble town-pump the most celebrated -structure in the good town. A thousand and a thousand people had pumped -there, merely to water oxen or fill their tea-kettles; but when once I -grasped the handle, a rill gushed forth that meandered as far as -England, as far as India, besides tasting pleasantly in every town and -village of our own country. I like to think of this, so long after I did -it, and so far from home, and am not without hopes of some kindly local -remembrance on this score."[10] Such indications of the artistic -consciousness are the merest ripples on the surface; the deeper -substance of it, with Hawthorne, always remained out of sight. Letters, -which are assumed to reveal so much of those who indite them, are, when -we come to the fact, very insufficient exponents of character; as, for -instance, we may observe in the letters of Michael Angelo, whose mood -and manner vary according to the person addressed. Correspondence, it is -true, is appetizing to readers, and should be prized for the help it -gives in defining an individual, but it does not always do full justice -to the larger being included in the whole personality. Hawthorne's -letters are more representative of those faculties by which he came into -association with his fellows, than of those which tended to separate him -from them by making him single and phenomenal, in his function as writer -of romance. But in his actual presence there was a something which did -most noticeably correspond to the hidden sources of his power, and -visibly express them. There was the hale and vigorous port of a man well -fitted by his physical constitution to meet the rudest emergency; but -there was also a temperament of which the reserve, the delicacy, the -tremulous sensitiveness were equal to those of the most finely organized -woman. "He was tall and strongly built," wrote his friend Hillard, "with -broad shoulders, deep chest, a massive head.... He looked like a man who -might have held the stroke oar in a University boat.... But, on the -other hand, no man had more of the feminine element than he. He was -feminine in his quick perceptions, his fine insight, his sensibility to -beauty.... No man comprehended woman better than he. And his face was as -mobile and rapid in its changes of expression as that of a young -girl.... His eyes would darken visibly under the touch of a passing -emotion, like the waters of a fountain ruffled by the breeze of summer. -So, too, he was the shyest of men."[11] - -The same writer adds: "There was nothing morbid in his character or -temperament. He was, indeed, much the reverse of morbid. No man of -genius ever had less the infirmities of genius than he.... Hawthorne was -physically one of the healthiest of men. His pulse always kept even -music. He cared nothing for wine or tobacco, or strong coffee or strong -tea. He was a sound sleeper and an early riser. He was never moody or -fitful or irritable. He was never unduly depressed or unreasonably -elated. His spirits were not brilliant, but they were uniform, and, as -Mrs. Hawthorne says, 'The airy splendor of his wit and humor was the -light of his own home.'" - -Dr. Loring has supplied another sketch of his appearance in general -intercourse, which does a great deal to fill out our conception:-- - -"He knew no such thing as fear; was scrupulously honest; was unwavering -in his fidelity; conscientious in the discharge of his duty. There may -have been men of more latent power, but I have known no man more -impressive, none in whom the great reposing strength seemed clad in such -a robe of sweetness as he wore. I saw him on the day General Pierce was -elected to the presidency. It was a bright and delicious day in late -autumn. He was standing under the little shaded and embowered piazza of -'The Wayside,' at Concord, in the full vigor of his manhood, radiant -with joy at the good fortune of his friend, and with that sad, shy smile -playing over his face, which was so touching and charming. I have seen -him fishing from the rocks of the Essex County shore at Swampscott, -enjoying the bliss of absolute repose and the sweet uncertainty which -attends the angler's line. I have sat with him in the dimly lighted room -on autumnal evenings, cheerful and vocal with the cricket's chirp, and -have heard his wise and sensible talk, uttered in that soft, melodious -tone which gave such a peculiar charm to his utterances,--a tone so shy -that an intruder would hush it into silence in an instant. I have -strolled with him in the darkness of a summer night through the lanes of -Concord, assured by his voice, which came up from the grass-grown -roadside in a sort of mysterious murmur, that he was my companion still. -And everywhere and at all times, he bore about him a strong and -commanding presence and impression of unpretending power. I can hardly -tell how Hawthorne succeeded in entertaining his companions and securing -their entire confidence, unless it was that he displayed great good -sense and acuteness and good temper in his intercourse with them, and -never misled them by false promises or low appeals. This, in addition to -his subtile genius, everywhere recognized and never wholly concealed to -even the most commonplace associates, made him a most fascinating -friend, as he was really and truly a man of rare quality among ordinary -men."[12] - -The earlier portraits of Hawthorne show the gentleness and the feminine -traits in his disposition much more distinctly than those that are best -known to the world. There is one, now owned by his cousin, Mr. Richard -C. Manning, of Salem, which was painted in 1840 by Charles Osgood, an -artist of Salem, and induced this comment from his sister Louisa: "The -color is a little too high, to be sure, but perhaps it is a modest -blush at the compliments which are paid to your pen." Another, painted -by a Mr. C. G. Thompson, at Boston, in 1850 (now owned by Mr. Julian -Hawthorne), resembles this, and presents, one would say, the ideal -Hawthorne of the "Twice-Told Tales" and "The House of the Seven Gables." -The face is smooth shaven and the cheeks are somewhat slender, making -all the lines and features contribute to an effect of greater length and -of more oval contour than that given by the later representations. The -color is delicate; the large eyes look forth with peculiarly fascinating -power from beneath a forehead of exceptional height and harmonious -prominence. The hair is long, and recedes slightly on both sides of the -forehead; a single lock in the middle curving over and drooping forward. -There is less firmness about the lips than was characteristic of them in -his latter years; they close softly, yet even in their pictured repose -they seem to be mobile and ready to quiver with response to some emotion -still undefined but liable to make itself felt at any instant. In its -surrounding of long hair, and of a collar rising above the jaws, with a -large black tie wound about the throat in the manner of a stock but -terminating in a large bow at the front, the beardless countenance is -stamped with a sort of prevalent aspect of the period when it was -painted, which gives it what we call the old-fashioned look. It is, none -the less, a striking one; one that arrests the glance immediately, and -holds it by a peculiar spell. There is no suggestion of a smile or of -cheeriness about it; the eyes even look a little weary, as with too much -meditation in the brain behind them; there is not a trace discernible of -that sturdy, almost military, resoluteness so marked in the familiar -crayon portrait by Rowse, executed after Hawthorne's return from Italy -and England. Here the face is pensive, timid, fresh and impressionable -as that of some studious undergraduate unusually receptive of ideas, -sentiments, and observations: it is, indeed, quiet and thoughtful to the -verge of sadness. Longfellow kept always in his study a black-and-white -copy from this portrait, and in speaking of it and of the subject's -extreme shyness, said that to converse with Hawthorne was like talking -to a woman. The Thompson picture was reproduced in 1851, in a steel -engraving of considerable merit, and Hawthorne, thanking Mr. Fields for -some of the prints, wrote from Lenox: "The children recognized their -venerable sire with great delight. My wife complains somewhat of a want -of cheerfulness in the face; and, to say the truth, it does appear to be -afflicted with a bedevilled melancholy; but it will do all the better -for the author of 'The Scarlet Letter.' In the expression there is a -singular resemblance (which I do not remember in Thompson's picture) to -a miniature of my father." - -In Rome, Miss Landor modelled a bust, the marble copy of which is now in -the Concord Public Library. It is of life-size, and presents the head in -a position which raises the chin and inclines the plane of the face -slightly backward, so that the effigy might be taken for that of an -orator addressing a great audience. This pose was selected by the -sculptress because, after due study, she was persuaded that when -Hawthorne became interested in conversation and kindled with the desire -to set forth his own view, he always raised his head and spoke from a -commanding attitude. She chose to perpetuate a momentary action, instead -of rendering his customary aspect of holding the chin somewhat down or -on a firm level; and this may account for the likeness not being -satisfactory to the members of Hawthorne's own family. The bust, -however, renders impressively the magnificent proportions of the neck -and head and the whole physiognomy. The mouth is not concealed, and, -although it exhibits more decision than that of the Thompson picture, it -conveys the same general impression of a quickly responsive sensibility. -Mr. Thompson made his painting when Hawthorne was forty-six, and Miss -Landor had sittings from the author at the age of fifty-four; but the -difference in apparent maturity of power in the face would indicate a -much longer interval. This is perhaps due to the difference in the means -of representation, and to some defect of strength in Mr. Thompson's -drawing; but perhaps also the decided change in Hawthorne's general -look, which began under the greatly altered conditions attending his -European life, proceeded very rapidly. He allowed a thick mustache to -grow, during his last stay in England, and it was then that Kuntze -modelled his profile, which sets Hawthorne's features before us in a -totally different way from any of the other portraits. Unfortunately, -Kuntze's relief is reduced to a size below that of life, and the -features accordingly assume a cramped relation. The lofty forehead is -given its due importance, however, and concentration of impassioned -energy is conveyed by the outline of the face, from this point of view. -The chin, always forcible as well as delicate, impresses one in this -case with a sense of persistent and enduring determination on the part -of the original; and with this sense there is mingled an impression of -something that approaches sternness, caused, it may be, by the hirsute -upper lip. In considering these several representations and the crayon -by Rowse, together with the photographs taken after Hawthorne's -home-return, it is impossible not to observe that the sturdier and more -practical elements in the romancer gained upon him, so far as personal -appearance was concerned, with advancing age and a wider experience of -life in the large world. But such a series of glimpses can do no more -than to suggest disjointedly the union in him of attributes positive and -passive, which always struck those who met him. A photograph which was -secured before he left England depicts him in a mood and with an air -that very happily convey this complete equipment of the man, this -wellnigh perfect combination of traits, which enabled him by sympathy to -run through the entire gamut of human feeling. His friend, John Lothrop -Motley, induced him one day to enter a photographer's establishment, on -the plea that he had business of his own there. Hawthorne was given a -book to read, while waiting; and when the photographer was ready Motley -attracted his friend's attention. Hawthorne looked up with a dawning -smile, a bright, expectant glance,--holding the book on his knee -meanwhile, with a finger in the place,--and instantly a perfect negative -was made. The resulting portraiture showed him absolutely as he was: a -breathing form of human nobility; a strong, masculine, self-contained -nature, stored in a stalwart frame--the face grown somewhat more rotund -than formerly, through material and professional success, and lighted up -with captivating but calm geniality; while over the whole presence -reigned an exquisite temperance of reserve, that held every faculty in -readiness to receive and record each finest fluctuation of joy or -sorrow, of earnest or of sport. - -Such as he there appears, we shall do well to imagine him to ourselves. - -The tendency at first, among those who judged him from his writings -alone, was to set him down as a misanthrope. We need not go to the other -extreme now. That he inclined to gravity, in his manner and in his habit -of thought, seems to be beyond question; but he was not sombre. Neither -was he hilarious. At home, though he was frequently silent, he never -appeared to be so from depression, except in seasons of distress at the -illness of members of the household; the prevailing effect of his -presence, even when he was least communicative, being that of a cheerful -calm with mellow humor underlying it. One of his children said to Mr. T. -W. Higginson: "There was never such a playmate in all the world." On the -other hand, I remember a letter from Hawthorne (no longer accessible for -exact quotation), in which he frankly speaks of himself as taking -constitutionally a somewhat despondent view of things. But if he did so, -he never permitted the shadow to fall upon his friends. "I should fancy -from your books," Hillard confessed in a letter to him, "that you were -burdened with some secret sorrow, that you had some blue chamber in your -soul, into which you hardly dared to enter yourself; but when I see you, -you give me the impression of a man as healthy as Adam in Paradise." Mr. -Hillard once told the present writer that he had sometimes walked twenty -miles along the highway with Hawthorne, not a word being spoken during -the entire tramp, and had nevertheless felt as if he were in constant -communication with his friend. Mr. Curtis wrote many years ago: "His own -sympathy was so broad and sure, that, although nothing had been said for -hours, his companion knew that not a thing had escaped his eye, nor a -single pulse of beauty in the day or scene or society failed to thrill -his heart. In this way his silence was most social. Everything seemed to -have been said." - -His fondness for seclusion, his steady refusal to talk when he did not -feel like talking, and his unobtrusive but immovable independence in -opinion, together with his complete disregard of conventional -requirements in social intercourse, prevented Hawthorne from ever -becoming a popular man. But he was the object of a loving admiration and -the sincerest friendship, on the part of certain few intimates. Those -who knew him best, and had been longest in relations with him, -insensibly--as one observer has well suggested--caught from his fine -reticence a kindred reluctance to speak about him to others. A degree of -reverence was blended with their friendship, which acquired for them a -sacred privacy. Having sound health physically, as well as a healthy -mind, he enjoyed out-door occupations such as garden-work, rowing, -fishing, and walking; but he never rode on horseback. He liked to make -pedestrian trips through the country, stopping at haphazard in country -taverns and farm-houses and listening to the conversation that went on -there. In chance companionship of that sort, he could tolerate much -freedom of speech, in consideration of the mother-wit that prompted it; -but among men of his own class he never encouraged broad allusions. If -anything that savored of the forbidden were introduced, he would not -protest, but he at once turned the conversation towards some worthier -subject. The practical vein in Hawthorne--his ingrained sympathy with -the work-a-day world in which his father and his forefathers had busied -themselves-adapted him to the official drudgery to which he devoted -nine years of his life; although, while he was occupied with that, the -ideal activities of his nature lay dormant. The two sets of faculties -never could be exercised in equal measure at the same time: one or the -other had to predominate. Yet in the conduct of his own affairs, so far -as his pecuniary obligations were concerned, he was very prudent, and to -the last degree scrupulous. One or two exceedingly small debts, which he -was forced to contract, weighed upon him with a heaviness that to the -ordinary commercial mind would be altogether inconceivable; and the -relief he experienced when he was able to cancel them was inexpressible. -His fault, in business, was that he attributed to other people a sense -of honor equal to his own. This entailed upon him sundry losses which he -was not well able to afford, through loans made to supposed friends. -Notwithstanding the carefulness of his expenditure and a few moderately -good receipts from the publication of his books in England, he died -leaving a property of little more than twenty thousand dollars, besides -his house at Concord and the copyright of his works. - -In addition to the strong physical frame and tall stature several times -noticed in the present sketch, Hawthorne's personal appearance was -distinguished by his large and lustrous gray-blue eyes, luxuriant dark -brown hair of remarkable fineness, and a delicacy of the skin that gave -unusual softness to his complexion; a complexion subdued, but full of -"healthy, living color," as Mrs. Hawthorne once described it. "After his -Italian journey he altered much, his hair having begun to whiten, and a -thick dark mustache being permitted to grow, so that a wit described him -as looking like a 'boned pirate.' When it became imperative to shake -off his reticence, he seems to have had the power of impressing as much -by speech as he had before done by silence. It was the same abundant, -ardent, but self-contained and perfectly balanced nature that informed -either phase. How commanding was this nature may be judged by the fact -related of him by an acquaintance, that rude people jostling him in a -crowd would give way at once 'at the sound of his low almost irresolute -voice.'... Something even of the eloquent gift of old Colonel Hathorne -seemed to be locked within him, like a precious heirloom rarely shown; -for in England, where his position called for speech-making, he -acquitted himself with brilliant honor. But the effort which this -compelled was no doubt commensurate with the success. He never shrank, -notwithstanding, from effort, when obligation to others put in a plea. A -member of his family has told me that, when talking to any one not -congenial to him, the effect of the contact was so strong as to cause an -almost physical contraction of his whole stalwart frame, though so -slight as to be perceptible only to eyes that knew his informal and -habitual aspects; yet he would have sunk through the floor rather than -betray his sensations to the person causing them. Mr. Curtis, too, -records the amusement with which he watched Hawthorne paddling on the -Concord River, with a friend whose want of skill caused the boat -continually to veer the wrong way, and the silent generosity with which -he put forth his whole strength to neutralize the error, rather than -mortify his companion by explanation. His considerateness was always -delicate and alert."[13] A niece of Horace Mann, who passed a part of -the spring of 1852 with Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne at West Newton, supplies -one little instance of this, which shall be registered here. Mrs. Dean, -the lady in question, was then under engagement to teach in Boston, but -had an interval of time on her hands before the work should begin. She -was invited by the Hawthornes to the West Newton house (at that time -owned by Mr. Mann), where she was to occupy a room which had formerly -been hers. She found that a fire was carefully laid in the stove every -night, to warm the room in the morning, and, thinking that too much -trouble was taken on her account, she begged to be allowed to attend to -this detail herself. It was then she discovered that it was Hawthorne -who made up the fire; and he insisted upon continuing his service. Mrs. -Dean also recalls that he listened attentively to the incidental and -ordinary chat between Mrs. Hawthorne and herself, seldom making any -remark, but, when he did volunteer one, giving it a pungent and -epigrammatic or humorous turn. Entering the room where she was -constructing a raised map for schoolroom use, he watched her with close -interest for a while, and then observed: "I would rather have had the -making of the world itself, in the beginning." - -Taking whatever happened in a spirit always very much the same; -reflective, penetrating, quietly sportive--a spirit, likewise, of -patience and impartiality--Hawthorne kept his power of appreciation -fresh to the very last. He could endure the humdrum tasks of government -office, but they did not dull his pleasure in the simplest incidents of -home-life, nor his delight in nature. "Every year the recurrent changes -of season filled him with untold pleasure; and in the spring, Mrs. -Hawthorne has been heard to say, he would walk with her in continuous -silence, his heart full of the awe and delight with which the miracle -of buds and new verdure inspired him." Taking everything in this spirit, -we may repeat, mingling with the rough and the refined, and capable of -extracting the utmost intellectual stimulus from the least of mundane -phenomena, he maintained intact a true sense of relativity and a -knowledge that the attainable best is, in the final analysis, -incomplete. Contemplating a rose one day, he said: "On earth, only a -flower is perfect." He cherished a deep, strong, and simple religious -faith, but never approved of intellectual discussion concerning -religion. - -The slightness of the definite fact, or of the reminiscence vouchsafed -by those who knew him, is continually impressed upon us in reviewing -this career. Considered in its main outline, how very plain and -unambitious is the history! A sea-captain's son, born in Salem; living -obscurely; sent up to the rude clearing where a new village was founding -in Maine; induced, against his preference, to go to college; writing -timid stories and essays, which the world had no suspicion that it -needed, and prompted to this by an impulse of which the origin is -inexplicable; next, the author coming into notice, but under eclipse now -and then from disappearance behind a public office; finally, the -acknowledged romancer of indefinitely great endowment--the head of his -order in America--sent abroad to an important post, where he is -recognized and warmly greeted by every one who can discern clearly: such -is the general course of the narrative. Afterwards, the now eminent man -comes back to his native land, labors a little longer in comparative -obscurity, suffers unmerited obloquy for his fidelity to a personal -friend, while perfectly loyal to his government; then dies, and is -mourned not alone by those devoted companions who felt him to be the one -great fact to them in present human nature, but also by famous scholars -and poets, and by a multitude of strangers, who gather around his bier -with a stricken sense of loss ineffable. It is very simple; it is very -democratic--the unnoticed American boy in humble circumstances becoming -the centre of a circle of fame which is still extending its radius. Very -simple it is, and yet inexplicable. But if we cannot tell precisely how -the mind came into being, nor what were the fostering influences that -most cogently aided its growth, we can, at least, pay our reverence to -the overruling Power that brings genius to the flowering-point under -circumstances seemingly the most unpropitious. - -In 1863--the last year of his life--Hawthorne wrote to Mr. Stoddard, who -had sent him a copy of his poem, "The King's Bell." "I sincerely thank -you," he said, "for your beautiful poem, which I have read with a great -deal of pleasure. It is such as the public had a right to expect from -what you gave us in years gone by; only I wish the idea had not been so -sad. I think Felix might have rung the bell once in his lifetime, and -again at the moment of death. Yet you may be right. I have been a happy -man, and yet I do not remember any one moment of such happy conspiring -circumstances that I could have rung a joy-bell for it." - -Yes, he had been a happy man; one who had every qualification for a rich -and satisfactory life, and was able to make such a life out of whatever -material offered. He might not have been willing to sound the joy-bell -for himself, but the world has rung it because of his birth. As for his -death, it is better not to close our sketch with any glimpse of that, -because, in virtue of his spirit's survival among those who read and -think, he still lives. - - G. P. L. - - NEW YORK, _May_ 20, 1883. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] _A Study of Hawthorne_, III., 67-69. - -[2] _Yesterdays With Authors_, p. 113. - -[3] Both his friends, George William Curtis and George S. Hillard, in -writing about him, have made the mistake of assigning to him black or -dark eyes; an error perhaps due to the depth of shadowed cavity in which -they were seen under the high and massive forehead. - -[4] _Hawthorne and his friends: Harper's Magazine_, vol. 63 (July, -1881). - -[5] Vol. 45 (July, 1837), p. 59. - -[6] _Transcendentalism in New England._ - -[7] She died, unmarried, in September, 1877. - -[8] The allusion to a baby-boy is confusing, because Mr. Julian -Hawthorne was not born at Concord, and when the family returned thither -to occupy The Wayside, he was about six years old. - -[9] This is the first intimation of the story of _Septimius Felton_, so -far as local setting is concerned. The scenery of that romance was -obviously taken from The Wayside and its hill. - -[10] _French and Italian Note-Books_, May 30, 1858. A contributor to -_Appletons' Journal_, writing in 1875, describes a surviving specimen of -the old contrivances which then gave Salem its water-supply. "The -presumption is that a description of this particular one answers for -Hawthorne's pump, seeing that they were all alike. It is large enough -for a mausoleum and looks not unlike one, made of slabs of dingy stone, -like stained, gray gravestones set up on one end, in a square at the -foundation, but all inclining inward at the top, where they are kept in -position by a band of iron. A decaying segment of log appears, in which -the pump-handle works in vain, now, however, since, being long out of -use, it has no connection with the water below; on the front side are -two circular holes, like a pair of great eyes, made for the insertion of -the spouts; and, finally, a long-handled iron dish, like a saucepan or -warming-pan on a smaller scale, is attached by an iron chain to the -stone, by way of drinking-vessel. Altogether, though it may not strike -an old Salem resident in that way, it seems to the stranger a very -unique, antiquated, and remarkable structure." - -[11] _Atlantic Monthly_, September, 1870, vol. 26, p. 257. - -[12] _Papyrus Leaves_, pp. 261, 262. - -[13] _A Study of Hawthorne_: Chapter, xi., 291, 292. - - - - -Corrections - -The first line indicates the original, the second the correction. - - p. 528: "and Buchanan, the nminister" - "and Buchanan, then minister" - - p. 529: "a book shall he honored" - "a book shall be honored" - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Complete Works of Nathaniel -Hawthorne, Appendix to Volume XII: Tales, Sketches, and other Papers by Nathaniel Hawthorne with a Biographical Sketch by George Parsons Lathrop, by George Parsons Lathrop - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKS OF HAWTHORNE, APPEND. 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