_Liverpool_, Decr. 13th, 1858
_Dearest_,
I wrote thee a brief note by a steamer from this port on the 11th,
with O'Sullivan's despatches. Nothing noteworthy has happened since;
and nothing can happen in this dawdling[A] life of ours. The best
thing about our Liverpool days is, that they are very short; it is
hardly morning, before night comes again. Una says that the weather in
Lisbon is very cold. So it is here--that searching, spiteful cold that
creeps all through one's miserable flesh; and if I had to cross the
river, as last winter, I do believe I should drown myself in despair.
Nevertheless, Julian and I are in excellent condition, though the old
boy often grumbles--"It is very cold, papa!"--as he takes his morning
bath.
[A] On reading over my letter, I cannot make out this word.]
The other day, speaking of his first advent into this world, Julian
said, "I don't remember how I came down from Heaven; but I'm very
glad I happened to tumble into so good a family!" He was serious in
this; and it is certainly very queer, that, at nearly ten years old,
he should still accept literally our first explanation of how he came
to be among us.
Thy friend John O'Hara still vagabondises about the street; at least,
I met him, some time since, with a basket of apples on his arm, very
comfortably clad and looking taller than of yore. I gave him an
eleemosynary sixpence, as he told me he was getting on pretty well.
Yesterday, his abominable mother laid siege to my office during the
greater part of the day, pretending to have business with me. I
refused to see her; and she then told Mr. Wilding that her husband was
gone to Ireland, and that John was staying at Rock Ferry with Mrs.
Woodward, or whatever the lady's name may be, and that she herself had
no means of support. But I remained as obdurate as a paving-stone,
knowing that, if I yielded this once, she would expect me to supply
her with the means of keeping drunk as long as I stay in Liverpool.
She hung about the office till dusk, but finally raised the siege.
Julian looks like a real boy now; for Mrs. Blodgett has his hair cut
at intervals of a month or so, and though I thought his aspect very
absurd, at first, yet I have come to approve it rather than otherwise.
The good lady does what she can to keep his hands clean, and his nails
in proper condition--for which he is not as grateful as he should be.
There is to be a ball at his dancing-school, next week, at which the
boys are to wear jackets and white pantaloons; and I have commissioned
Miss Maria to get our old gentleman equipped in a proper manner. It is
funny how he gives his mighty mind to this business of dancing, and
even dreams, as he assured me, about quadrilles. His master has
praised him a good deal, and advanced him to a place among his elder
scholars. When the time comes for Julian to study in good earnest, I
perceive that this feeling of emulation will raise his steam to a
prodigious height. In drawing (having no competitors) he does not
apply himself so earnestly as to the Terpsichorean science; yet he
succeeds so well that, last night, I mistook a sketch of his for one
of his master's. Mrs. Blodgett and the ladies think his progress quite
wonderful; the master says, rather coolly, that he has a very
tolerable eye for form.
Una seems to be taking rapid strides towards womanhood. I shall not
see her a child again; that stage has passed like a dream--a dream
merging into another dream. If Providence had not done it, as thou
sayest, I should deeply regret her having been present at this recent
grief-time of the O'Sullivans. It did not seem to me that she needed
experiences of that kind; for life has never been light and joyous to
her. Her letters make me smile, and sigh, too; they are such letters
as a girl of fifteen would write, with a vein of sentiment continually
cropping up, as the geologists say, through the surface. Then the
religious tone startles me a little. Would it be well--(perhaps it
would, I really don't know)--for religion to be intimately connected,
in her mind, with forms and ceremonials, and sanctified places of
worship? Shall the whole sky be the dome of her cathedral?--or must
she compress the Deity into a narrow space, for the purpose of getting
at him more readily? Wouldst thou like to have her follow Aunt Lou and
Miss Rodgers into that musty old Church of England? This looks very
probable to me; but thou wilt know best how it is, and likewise
whether it had better be so, or not. If it is natural for Una to
remain within those tenets, she will be happiest there; but if her
moral and intellectual development should compel her hereafter to
break from them, it would be with the more painful wrench for having
once accepted them.
December 14th.--Friday.--O'Sullivan desires me to send American
newspapers. I shall send some with the parcel by the Liverpool steamer
of the 21st; and likewise through John Miller, whenever I have any
late ones; but the English Post Office does not recognize American
newspapers as being newspapers at all, and will not forward them
except for letter postage. This would be ruinous, considering that the
rate for single letters, between here and Lisbon, is a shilling and
sixpence; and a bundle of newspapers, at a similar rate, would cost
several pounds. I _won't_ do it.
Miss Williams has not yet left her chamber. Her illness was very
serious, and Mrs. Blodgett was greatly alarmed about her; but I
believe she is now hopefully convalescent.
Julian is outgrowing all the clothes he has, and is tightening
terribly in best sack, and absolutely bursting through his trousers.
No doubt thou wouldst blaspheme at his appearance; but all boys are
the awkwardest and unbeautifullest creatures whom God has made. I
don't know that he looks any worse than the rest. I have given Mrs.
Blodgett the fullest liberty to get him whatever she thinks best. He
ought to look like a gentleman's son, for the ladies of our family
like to have him with them as their cavalier and protector, when they
go a-shopping. It amazes me to see the unabashed front with which he
goes into society.
I have done my best, in the foregoing scribble, to put thee in
possession of the outward circumstances of our position. It is a very
dull life; but I live it hopefully, because thou (my true life) will
be restored to me by-and-by. If I had known what thou wouldst have to
suffer, through thy sympathies, I would not for the world have sent
thee to Lisbon; but we were in a strait, and I knew no other way. Take
care of thyself for my sake. Remember me affectionately to the
O'Sullivans.