MEMORIES OF HAWTHORNE
CHAPTER I
THE HAWTHORNES AND THE PEABODYS
To my lot have fallen sundry letters of my mother's, received in youth
by her sisters and friends, and by her husband and others in later
life. I have often read over these magic little pictures of old days,
and each time have felt less inclined to let them remain silently in
the family. The letters are full of sunshine, which is not even yet
in the least dimmed; and there is a pleasant chatter of persons of
whom we have heard widely in the most refined atmosphere this country
knows.
The scene surrounds a soul, my father's, whose excellence grows more
and more evident, and who enriches every incident and expression that
comes in contact with him. The tone of the life depicted is usually
glad; but even where discomfort and sorrow break it, Hawthorne's
unflinching endurance suggests unsoured activity and a brave glance.
I will preserve, as well as I can by selections, the effect produced
upon me by the many packages of letters which I opened some years ago.
What Hawthorne cared for is somewhat clearly shown by side-lights; and
there is also some explanation from my mother, as unintentionally
given as the rest, of why he cared.
It was a genial and vivid existence which enveloped her family always;
and it became an interesting problem to the Peabodys to entice the
reticent Hawthornes into it, from the adjacent Herbert Street,--by
gentle degrees, well-adjusted baits, and affectionate compliments.
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