Raphael is the clear, deep,
beautiful eye, in which and through which is seen the undoubted
heaven. . . .
How glad I am that I have a right to send you a letter! I have left a
small space into which to squeeze a large love, which I send to Mrs.
H., with my thanks for her kind letter, which could not come too late,
and which I am very sure highly gratified Mr. Crawford. He desires to
make his especial regards to Mrs. H., and said that he should write
her a note, if it were not too great a liberty, which he would send in
a letter to Mrs. Howe. Mention my name to Una; for in some dim
remembrance of Concord meadows I may then figure as a shadowy faun. A
long, pleasant letter from George Bradford, the other day, gave me the
last news from our old home, which is very placid and beautiful in my
memory. I should love to see Ellery Channing's new book. But I am
sure that he will never forgive himself for coming to Rome for sixteen
days. I am sorry to say good-by. G. W. CURTIS.
While on a visit to her mother, Mrs. Hawthorne writes to her
husband:--
BOSTON, July.
. . . I received your most precious letter yesterday. I do not need to
stand apart from daily life to see how fair and blest our lot is.
Every mother is not like me--because not every mother has such a
father for her children; so that my cares are forever light. Am I not
eminently well, round, and rubicund? Even in the very centre of
simultaneous screams from both darling little throats, I am quite as
sensible of my happiness as when the most dulcet sounds are issuing
thence.
Pages:
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98