DOLLY'S SECOND LETTER.
MY DEAR PARENTS: We had such a glorious Christmas morning--clear,
clean white snow lying on the earth and on all, even the little
branches of the trees. You know, Mamma, the great square garden back
of the house. Every little tree there was glittering like fairy frost
work. We all hung our stockings up the night before, and at breakfast
examined our presents. I had lovely things--a beautiful prayer-book
bound in purple velvet from Grandmamma, and a charming necklace of
pearls from Uncle Israel, and a scarlet cloak trimmed with lace from
Aunt Deborah, and a beautiful Chinese fan from cousin Alfred. Aunty
has been putting up the usual Christmas bundle for you; so you will
all share my prosperity.
I was waked in the morning by the old North chimes, which played
all sorts of psalm tunes and seemed to fill the air with beautiful
thoughts. It was very sweet to me to think of what it was all about.
It is not necessary to believe that our Saviour really was born this
very day of all others; but that he was born on _some_ day we all
know. So when we walked to church together, and the church was like
one green bower, and the organ played, and the choir sung, it seemed
as if all there was in me was stirred. I never heard the _Te Deum_
before, and how glorious, how wonderful it is! It took me up to the
very gates of heaven. I felt as if I was hearing the angels sing; and
when I thought of the prophets, the apostles, the martyrs, and the
holy church of Christ throughout the world, I felt that I was one
with them, and was happy to be one drop in that great ocean of joy.
For though I was only a little one I felt _in_ it, and _with_ it, and
a part of it, and all the joy and glory was mine. I trembled with
happiness.
When the communion service came I went with Grandmamma and knelt
at the altar. It seemed as if Christ himself was there giving me
the bread and the wine. I never felt so near to Him. After church I
went home. I was so full that I could not speak. No one else seemed
to feel as I did--they were all used to it--but it was all new and
wonderful to me, and made heavenly things so real that I felt almost
averse to coming back to every day life. I wanted to go alone to my
room and dwell on it. There was quite a company invited to dinner,
and I did not feel like joining them, but I knew Aunty wanted me to
make myself agreeable, and so I tried my best, and after a while took
my part in the conversation, as gay as the rest of them. Only once in
a while some of those noble words I had been hearing came back to me
with a sudden thrill, and would bring tears to my eyes even while I
was gayest.
Cousin Alfred noticed that I was feeling very much about something,
and in the evening when we were alone for a few minutes he asked
me about it, and then I told him all how the service affected me,
and made me feel. He looked a little surprised at first, and then
he seemed thoughtful; and when I said, "I should think those who
hear and say such glorious things at church, ought to live the
very noblest lives, to be perfect Christians," he said, "Cousin, I
am sorry to say, it is not so with me. We hear these things from
childhood; we hear them Sunday after Sunday, in all sorts of moods,
and I'm afraid many of us form a habit of not really thinking how
much they mean. I wish I could hear our service as you have done, for
the first time, and that it would seem as real and earnest to me as
it does to you."
We talked a good deal after this; he has a deep, thoughtful mind, and
I wish you, my dear Father, could talk with him. I know you will
like him. Isn't it pleasant to find relations that one can like and
esteem so much? Cousin Alfred is like a brother to me already, and
to-morrow we are going out to explore the antiquities of Boston. He
seems as much interested in them as I do.
Dear Parents, this Christmas puts me in mind of the time years ago
when they dressed the little church in Poganuc, and I ran away, over
to the church, and got asleep under a great cedar-bush, listening to
the Christmas music. It affected me then just as it has done now. Is
it not beautiful to think we are singing words that Christians have
been singing for more than a thousand years! It gives you the feeling
of being in a great army--one of a great host; and for a poor little
insignificant thing like me it is a joyful feeling.
You ought to see how delighted Aunt Deborah is that I take so kindly
to the prayer-book and the service. She gives me little approving
nods now and then, and taps me on the shoulder in a patronizing way
and says there is good blood in my veins, for all I was brought up a
Presbyterian! This is all very well, but when she goes to unchurching
all our churches and saying there are no ordained ministers in the
United States except the few in Episcopal pulpits, I am dreadfully
tempted to run a tilt with her, though I know it would do no earthly
good. I believe I should do it, however, if Cousin Alfred did not
take up the argument on our side, and combat her so much better than
I could that I am content to let her alone. She tells him that he is
no Englishman and no churchman, but a very radical; and he tells her
that he came to America to learn to use his common sense and get rid
of old rubbish!
For all this they are excellent friends, and dear old Grandmamma
always takes our part because she is so afraid Aunt Debby will hurt
my feelings, though Aunty says that in her heart Grandmamma is a
regular old Tory.
I asked Grandma about this one day, when we were alone, and she said
she always loved and honored the king and royal family, and was
grieved when they stopped praying for them in the churches. If she
was a Tory she was so from love, and it is quite charming to hear her
talk about the old times.
It seems to me no great change ever comes on this earth without
grieving some good people.
But it is past midnight and I must not sit up writing any longer.
Dear parents, I wish you a happy Christmas!
Your loving DOLLY.