The evil eye may be classified with the phenomena of mesmerism.

August 3rd [1858]

Yesterday afternoon William Story called on me, he being on a day or two's excursion from Siena, where he is spending the summer with his family. He was very entertaining and conversative, as usual, and said, in reply to my question whether he were not anxious to return to Cleopatra, that he had already sketched out another subject for sculpture, which would employ him during next winter. He told me what I was glad to hear that his sketches of Italian life, intended for the Atlantic Monthly, and supposed to be lost, have been recovered. Speaking of the superstitiousness of the Italians, he said that they universally believe in the influence of the evil eye. The evil influence is supposed not to be dependent on the will of the possessor of the evil eye; on the contrary, the persons to whom he wishes well are the very ones to suffer by it. It is oftener found in monks than in any other class of people; and on meeting a monk, and encountering his eye, an Italian usually makes a defensive sign by putting both hands behind him, with the forefingers and little fingers extended, although it is a controverted point whether it be not more efficacious to extend the hand with its outspread fingers towards the suspected person. It is considered an evil omen to meet a monk on first going out for the day. The evil eye may be classified with the phenomena of mesmerism. The Italians, especially the Neapolitans, very generally wear amulets. Pio Nono, perhaps as being the chief of all monks and other religious people, is supposed to have an evil eye of tenfold malignancy ; and its effect has been seen in the ruin of all schemes for the public good so soon as they are favoured by him. When the pillar in the Piazza, di Spagna, commemorative of his dogma of the Immaculate Conception, was to be erected, the people of Rome refused to be present, or to have anything to do with it, unless the Pope promised to abstain from interference. His holiness did promise, but so far broke his word as to be present one day while it was being erected, and on that day a man was killed. A little while ago there was a Lord Clifford, an English Catholic nobleman, residing in Italy, and happening to come to Rome, he sent his compliments to Pio Nono, and requested the favour of an interview. The Pope, as it happened, was indisposed, or for some reason could not see his lordship, but very kindly sent him his blessing. Those who knew of it shook their heads, and intimated that it would go ill with his lordship now that he had been blessed by Pio Nono, and the very next day poor Lord Clifford was dead! His holiness had better construe the scriptural injunction literally, and take to blessing his enemies.

I walked into town with J---- this morning, and meeting a monk in the Via Fornace, I thought it no more than reasonable, as the good father fixed his eyes on me, to provide against the worst by putting both hands behind me, with the forefingers and little fingers stuck out.

In speaking of the little oratory connected with U----'s chamber, I forgot to mention the most remarkable object in it. It is a skull, the size of life (or death) This part of the house must be very old, probably coeval with the tower. The ceiling of U----'s apartment is vaulted with intersecting arches; and adjoining it is a very large saloon, likewise with a vaulted and groined ceiling, and having a cushioned divan running all round the walls. The windows of these rooms look out on the Val d'Arno.

The apartment above this saloon is of the same size, and hung with engraved portraits, printed on large sheets by the score and hundred together, and enclosed in wooden frames. They comprise the whole series of Roman emperors, the succession of popes, the kings of Europe, the doges of Venice, and the sultans of Turkey. The engravings bear different dates between 1685 and thirty years later, and were executed at Rome.

as if beings somewhat like ourselves were shouting in the invisible distance.

August 3rd. Sunday.

It was long before I fell asleep again; and then I did not awake till half -past six, when he appeared to have been awake a considerable time. I bathed him and myself, as usual, made a fire in the kitchen, and went for the milk. It was a perfect morning, with broad and bright sunshine, and, I believe, not a single cloud over the whole sky; unless it were a few mist wreaths here and there on the distant hill-sides. The lake was as smooth as glass, and gave motionless reflections of the woods and hills. This glassy surface is the best aspect of so small a sheet of water. At Luther Butler's we found his father-in-law, old Mr. Barnes, cutting a young man's hair. The patient was seated in a chair at the kitchen door ; and the old fellow seemed to perform the operation with a good deal of skill, and had made a pretty even surface all over his head, leaving the hair about an inch long.

I told Julian that I was going to send him to get Bunny after breakfast. The little man's face  quite glowed with delight, but yet he seemed confused. "Why, papa," said he," you see I left Bunny there to be Ellen's own; so I can't take him, unless they should send him back." I quieted his scruples by telling him what Mrs. Tappan had said; and he immediately became very desirous to go and get Bunny. At about nine o'clock I let him go; and in half an hour or so he came back with Bunny, in his little house. Poor Bunny seemed to have lost a good deal of his confidence in human nature, and kept himself as close as he could in a corner of the box, and made no response to my advances, nor would take a lettuce leaf which I offered him. I rather think he has lived in great torment during his absence. Julian says it was a great while before he could come away with him, on account of Bruin; so desirous was that naughty dog to get poor little Bunny.

I read " Pendennis " till twelve, while the old boy amused himself hither and thither ; then, seeing him down in the valley, I went and lay under an apple tree. Julian climbed up into the tree, and sat astride of a branch. His round merry face appeared among the green leaves, and a continual stream of babble came dripping down upon me, like a summer shower. He said how he should like to live always in the tree, and make a nest of leaves. Then he wanted to be a bird, so that he might fly far away ; and he would go to a deep hole, and bring me back a bag of gold ; and he would fly to West Newton, and bring home mamma on his back ; and he would fly to the Post Office for letters, and he would get beans and squashes and potatoes. After a while, I took him down from the tree; and removing a little way from the spot, we chanced upon a remarkable echo. It repeated every word of his clear little voice, at his usual elevation of talk; and when either of us called loudly, we could hear as many as three or four repetitions— the last coming apparently from far away beyond the woods, with a strange fantastic similitude to the original voice, as if beings somewhat like ourselves were shouting in the invisible distance. Julian called " Mamma," " Una," and many other words; then he shouted his own name, and when the sound came back upon us, he said that mamma was calling him. What a strange weird thing is an echo, to be sure!

At two o'clock the whole family had dinner: Julian an end of bread, myself a custard pie, and Bunny some nibblings of the crust. The little man and I walked down to the lake. The crusade against thistles still continues; and the mulleins, likewise, come in for their share of the blows. After loitering awhile on the shore of the lake, we came homeward through Mr. Wilcox's field and through his tall pine wood. I lay on my back, looking upward through the branches of the trees, while Julian spent nearly a quarter of an hour, I should think, beating down a single great mullein-stalk. He certainly does evince a persevering purpose, sometimes. We strolled through the wood among the tall pillars of those primaeval pines, and thence home along the margin of a swamp, in which I gathered a sheaf of cat-tails. This brings the history up to the present time, within a few minutes of five o'clock.

Either I have less patience to-day than ordinary, or the little man makes larger demands upon it; but it really does seem as if he had baited me with more questions, references, and observations, than mortal father ought to be expected to endure. He does put me almost beside my propriety, never quitting me, and continually thrusting in his word between the clauses of every sentence of all my reading, and smashing every attempt at reflection into a thousand fragments.

I put him to bed at seven ; gathered and crushed some currants; took a meditative walk to-and-fro, behind the house, looking out on the lake and hills; ate the currants; pored over a paper (having finished the first volume of "Pendennis "), and went to bed before ten.

An English view would have been incomparably richer in its neverfading green

August 2nd [1858]
VILLA MONTAUTO. MONTE BENI.

We had grown weary of the heat of Florence within the walls, .... there being little opportunity for air and exercise except within the precincts of our little garden, which, also, we feared might breed malaria, or something akin to it. We have therefore taken this suburban villa for the two next months, and, yesterday morning, we all came out hither. J---- had preceded us with B. P. The villa is on a hill called Bellosguardo, about a mile beyond the Porta Romana. Less than half an hour's walk brought us, who were on foot, to the iron gate of our villa, which we found shut and locked. We shouted to be let in, and while waiting for somebody to appear, there was a good opportunity to contemplate the external aspect of the villa. After we had waited a few minutes, J came racing down to the gate, laughing heartily, and said that Bob and he had been in the house, but had come out, shutting the door behind them ; and as the door closed with a spring lock, they could not get in again. Now as the key of the outer gate as well as that of the house itself was in the pocket of J 's coat, left inside, we were shut out of our own castle, and compelled to carry on a siege against it, without much likelihood of taking it, although the garrison was willing to surrender. But B. P. called in the assistance of the contadini who cultivate the ground, and live in the farm-house close by; and one of them got into a window by means of a ladder, so that the keys were got, the gates opened, and we finally admitted. Before examining any other part of the house, we climbed to the top of the tower, which, indeed, is not very high, in proportion to its massive square. Very probably, its original height was abbreviated, in compliance with the law that lowered so many of the fortified towers of noblemen within the walls of Florence...

The stairs were not of stone, built in with the original mass of the tower, as in English castles, but of now decayed wood, which shook beneath us, and grew more and more crazy as we ascended. It will not be many years before the height of the tower becomes unattainable... Near at hand, in the vicinity of the city, we saw the convent of Monte Olivette, and other structures that looked like convents, being built round an enclosed square; also numerous white villas, many of which had towers, like that we were standing upon, square and massive, some of them battlemented on the summit, and others apparently modernised for domestic purposes. Among them U--- pointed out Galileo's tower, whither she made an excursion the other day. It looked lower than our own, but seemed to stand on a higher elevation. We also saw the duke's villa, the Poggio, with a long avenue of cypresses leading from it, as if a funeral were going forth. And having wasted thus much of description on the landscape, I will finish with saying that it lacked only water to be a very fine one. It is strange what a difference the gleam of water makes, and how a scene awakens and comes to life wherever it is visible. The landscape, more over, gives the beholder (at least, this beholder) a sense of oppressive sunshine and scanty shade, and does not incite a longing to wander through it on foot, as a really delightful landscape should. The vine, too, being cultivated in so trim a manner, does not suggest that idea of luxuriant fertility, which is the poetical notion of a vineyard. The olive orchards have a pale and unlovely hue. An English view would have been incomparably richer in its neverfading green; and in my own country, the wooded hills would have been more delightful than these peaks and ridges of dreary and barren sunshine; and there would have been the bright eyes of half a dozen little lakes, looking heavenward, within an extent like that of the Val d'Arno.

By-and-by mamma's carriage came along the dusty road, and passed through the iron gateway, which we had left open for her reception. We shouted down to her and R---- , and they waved their handkerchiefs upward to us ; and, on my way down, I met R---- and the servant coming up through the ghostly rooms.

The rest of the day we spent mostly in exploring the premises. The house itself is of almost bewildering extent, insomuch that we might each of us have a suite of rooms individually. I have established myself on the ground-floor, where I have a dressingroom, a large vaulted saloon, hung with yellow damask, and a square writing study, the walls and ceilings of the two latter apartments being ornamented with angels and cherubs aloft in fresco, and with temples, statues, vases, broken columns, peacocks, parrots, vines, and sunflowers below. I know not how many more saloons, ante-rooms, and sleepingchambers there are on this same basement story, besides an equal number over them, and a great subterranean establishment. I saw some immense jars there, which I suppose were intended to hold oil; and iron kettles, for what purpose I cannot tell. There is also a chapel in the house, but it is locked up, and we cannot yet with certainty find the door of it, nor even, in this great wilderness of a house, decide absolutely what space the holy precincts occupy. Adjoining U 's chamber, which is in the tower, there is a little oratory, hung round with sacred prints of very ancient date, and with crucifixes, holy water vases, and other consecrated things; and here, within a glass case, there is the representation of an undraped little boy in wax, very prettily modelled, and holding up a heart that looks like a bit of red sealing-wax. If I had found him anywhere else I should have taken him for Cupid; but, being in an oratory, I presume him to have some religious signification. In the servants' room a crucifix hung on one side of the bed, and a little vase for holy water, now overgrown with a cobweb, on the other; and, no doubt, all the other sleeping apartments would have been equally well provided only that their occupants were to be heretics.

The lower floor of the house is tolerably furnished, and looks cheerful with its frescoes, although the bare pavements in every room give an impression of discomfort. But carpets are universally taken up in Italy during summer-time. It must have been an immense family that could have ever filled such a house with life. We go on voyages of discovery, and when in quest of any particular point, are likely enough to fetch up at some other. This morning I had difficulty in finding my way again to the top of the tower. One of the most peculiar rooms is constructed close to the tower, under the roof of the main building, but with no external walls on two sides! It is thus left open to the air, I presume for the sake of coolness. A parapet runs round the exposed sides for the sake of security. Some of the palaces in Florence have such open loggias in their upper stories, and I saw others on our journey hither, after arriving in Tuscany.

The grounds immediately around the house are laid out- in gravel-walks, and ornamented with shrub bery, and with what ought to be a grassy lawn; but the Italian sun is quite as little favourable to beauty of that kind as our own. I have enjoyed the luxury, however, almost for the first time since I left my hill top at the wayside, of flinging myself at full length on the ground without any fear of catching cold. Moist England would punish a man soundly for taking such liberties with her greensward. A Podere, or cultivated tract, comprising several acres, belongs to the villa, and seems to be fertile, like all the surrounding country. The possessions of different proprietors are not separated by fences, but only marked out by ditches; and it seems possible to walk miles and miles, along the intersecting paths, without obstruction. The rural labourers, so far as I have observed, go about in their shirt sleeves, and look very much like tanned and sunburnt Yankees.

Last night it was really a work of time and toil to go about making our defensive preparations for the night; first closing the iron gate, then the ponderous and complicated fastenings of the house-door, then the separate barricadoes of each iron-barred window on the lower floor, with a somewhat slighter arrangement above. There are bolts and shutters, however, for every window in the house, and I suppose it would not be amiss to put them all in use. Our garrison is so small that we must depend more upon the strength of our fortifications than upon our own active efforts in case of an attack. In England, in an insulated country house, we should need all these bolts and bars, and Italy is not thought to be the safer country of the two.

It deserves to be recorded that the Count Montauto, a nobleman, and seemingly a man of property, should deem it worth while to let his country seat, and reside during the hot months in his palace in the city, for the consideration of a comparatively small sum a month. He seems to contemplate returning hither for the autumn and winter, when the situation must be very windy and bleak, and the cold deathlike in these great halls; and then, it is to be supposed, he will let his palace in town. The count, through the agency of his son, bargained very stiffly for, and finally obtained, three dollars in addition to the sum which we at first offered him. This indicates that even a little money is still a matter of great moment in Italy. Signor del Bello who, I believe, is also a nobleman, haggled with us about some cracked crockery at our late residence, and finally demanded and received fifty cents in compensation. But this poor gentleman has been a spendthrift, and now acts as the agent of another.

Julian was quite in ecstasy. There is no use in trying to keep him from becoming a fisherman

August 2nd. Saturday. [1851]

In the morning we got up at about half -past six, and, Julian being bathed, and also myself, and Julian's wool duly frizzled, we set out for the milk. For the first time since some immemorial date, it was really a pleasant morning; not a cloud to be seen, except a few white and bright streaks, far off to the southward. Monument Mountain, however, had a fleece of sun-brightened mist, entirely covering it except its western summit, which emerged. There were also mists along the western side, hovering on the tree-tops, and portions of the same mist had flitted upward, and become real clouds in the sky. These vapors were rapidly passing away; and by the time we had done our errand, and returned, they had wholly disappeared.

I forgot to say, in the record of last night, that Herman Melville invited me to bring Julian and spend several days at his house, next week, when E. A. Duyckinck and his brother are to be there. I accepted for at least one night, and so Melville is to come for us.

At ten o'clock I sent Julian over to High- wood with Bunny, whom he is going to offer as a present to Ellen. The truth is, our house is too small, and we have not the proper accommodations for the excellent Bunny, for whom I have a great regard, but whose habits do not exactly fit him to be a constant occupant of the sitting- room. Our straw carpet was beginning to suffer seriously from some of his proceedings. At Highwood they can give him a room to himself, if they like — or, in short, do what they please with him. I really liked Bunny, who has very pleasant little ways, and a character well worth observing. He had grown perfectly familiar with us, and seemed to show a fondness for our society, and would always sit himself near us, and was attentive to all our motions. He has, I think, a great deal of curiosity, and an investigating disposition, and is very observant of what is going on around him. I do not know any other beast, and few human beings, who, always present, and thrusting his little paw into all the business of the day, could at the same time be so perfectly unobtrusive. I cannot but regret his departure, both for our sakes and his own; for I am afraid Ellen will squeeze and otherwise torment him, and that he will find nobody at Highwood so attentive to his habits as I was. What a pity that he could not have put himself under some restraint and rule, as to certain matters. Julian, too, seemed half-sorry to part with Bunny, but was so pleased with the idea of giving him to Ellen that he made no objection. He has not yet returned to say how the offering was accepted.

Quarter of eleven, Julian has come back, and reports that they did not thank him for Bunny, and that Ellen began to squeeze him very hard the first minute. He saw Deborah and Caroline and Ellen. They did not understand, at first, that Bunny was to remain there, and when Julian was coming away, they asked him if he was going to leave Bunny. " Why," said the little man," he is to be Ellen's own!" Whereat they said nothing. He says, however, that they seemed to be glad to have it. Poor Bunny, I am afraid, is doomed to be a sufferer for the rest of his life. Ellen, according to Julian's account, took the poor little fellow up by his fur, and by his hind leg, keeping him dangling in the air, and committed odious other outrages. Perhaps I had better have drowned him. Possibly I may yet have a chance to do so, for I should not wonder if they were to send him back. Julian says he had a great mind to snatch him away and run home.

Before dinner we took a walk to the lake, where we found a boat drawn up on the shore, and if it had not been fastened to the root of a tree and locked, I think we should have taken a trip to foreign parts. The little man got into the boat, and enjoyed himself greatly, especially when he discovered some little old fish, evidently of some days' continuance, in the bottom of the boat.

After dinner came Mr. Farley, as he had partly given me to expect when I saw him yesterday. He came with the purpose of trying to catch some fish; so all three of us went down to the lake. Julian was quite in ecstasy. There is no use in trying to keep him from becoming a fisherman; there is the genuine instinct in him, and sooner or later it will gratify itself. Neither do I perceive any reason why it should not; it is as harmless a propensity as he could have. However, there was nothing in our luck, this afternoon, to make him enamoured of the pursuit. We caught only a few bream and perch, each of which the old gentle- man immediately took up by the tail, surveying it with most delighted interest, and frisking all the while as if in sympathy with the frisky movements of the poor fish. After a while, Mr. Farley and I became tired, and we set out for home. The afternoon was as perfect as could be, as to beauty and comfort; just warm enough, nothing to be added or taken away. He did not stay to tea, but went home, taking Herman Melville's " White Jacket " with him.

I put Julian to bed at seven, or thereabouts, and went out to pick some currants. While thus engaged, Mrs. Tappan passed by the edge of the garden, towards the lower barn; and I asked her whether Julian made his offering of the rabbit to Ellen with due grace. She laughed, and said that he did, but said that they found Bunny quite troublesome, and that Ellen maltreated him and that the dog was always trying to get him — and, in short. Bunny turned out not to be a desirable acquisition. She spoke of giving him to little Marshall Butler, and suggested, moreover (in reply to something that I said about putting him out of existence) , that he might be turned out into the woods, to shift for himself. There is some- thing characteristic in this idea. It shows the sort of sensitiveness that finds the pain and misery of other people disagreeable, just as it would a bad scent, but is perfectly at ease when once they are removed from her sphere. I suppose she would not for the world have killed Bunny, al- though she would have exposed him to the cer- tainty of lingering starvation without scruple or remorse. Seeing nothing else to be done, I pro- posed to take Bunny back, and she promised to bring him to-morrow.

Mrs. Peters went home immediately after sup- per. I read " Pendennis " during the evening, ate about a quart of crushed currants, and went to bed at ten. 

But the cavalier renewing his salutation, I regarded him more attentively, and saw that it was Herman Melville!

August 1st. Friday. [1851]

This was another chill and sulky day, so cool that I put a knit jacket on Julian when we went for the milk. There was a general conclave of clouds overhead, but interspersed with blue, and then partial gleams of watery sunshine. Monument Mountain was in shadow this morning, and the western ridge had the sun on it. The atmosphere was particularly clear; insomuch, that I do not recollect ever seeing Taconic bulge so prominently forth from its outline as it did now. It looked but a little further off than the Monument.

Bruin ran along with us, much to Julian's delight; but on our return, the dog began to caper and frisk somewhat obstreperously.

It was so cheerless out of doors, that we spent the morning within. I was occupied with two letters (excruciatingly short ones) from Phoebe, and with papers, which Mrs. Peters brought from the Post Office.

At about eleven came Deborah and little Ellen to take Julian to Highwood; so his majesty departed, and I saw nothing more of him till after dinner. I packed up and sent off Phoebe's sculpturing tools, which Mrs. Mann wants for some purpose or other. I trust Phoebe will not be persuaded, among ll her other cares and annoyances, to undertake any alterations or modifications of his bust. If this had occurred to me sooner, I certainly should not have sent the tools.

We had, to-day, the first string beans of the season; the earliest product of our garden, in- deed, except currants and lettuce. At three o'clock Julian came home. He said that he [had] had tomatoes, beans, and asparagus for dinner, and that he liked them very much, and had had a good time. I dressed him and myself for a walk to the village, and we set out at four. The mail not being in at our arrival, we went to Mr. Farley's office (where we saw him and Mr. Sedgwick), and afterwards to Mr. Farley's house, or rather to his hen-coop, to see his splendid rooster and chickens. I gave Mr. Sedgwick to understand, by the bye that we should take Mrs. Kemble's house for the autumn. Returning to the Post Office, I got Mr. Tappan's mail and my own, and proceeded homeward, but clambered over the fence and sat down in Love Grove to read the papers.

While thus engaged, a cavalier on horseback came along the road, and saluted me in Spanish, to which I replied by touching my hat, and went on with the newspaper. But the cavalier renewing his salutation, I regarded him more attentively, and saw that it was Herman Melville! Thereupon, Julian and I hastened to the road, when ensued a greeting, and we all went homeward together, talking as we went. Soon Mr. Melville alighted, and put Julian into the saddle; and the little man was highly pleased, and sat on the horse with the freedom and fearlessness of an old equestrian, and had a ride of at least a mile homeward.

I asked Mrs. Peters to make some tea for Herman Melville; and so she did, and he drank a cup, but was afraid to drink much, because it would keep him awake. After supper, I put Julian to bed, and Melville and I had a talk about time and eternity, things of this world and of the next, and books, and publishers, and all possible and impossible matters, that lasted pretty deep into the night. At last he arose and saddled his horse (which we had put into the barn) and rode off for his own domicile; and I hastened to make the most of what little sleeping-time remained for me.

a most obstreperous twittering

Tuesday, August 1st. [1837]

There having been a heavy rain yesterday, a nest of chimney-swallows was washed down the chimney into the fireplace of one of the front rooms. My attention was drawn to them by a most obstreperous twittering; and looking behind the fire-board, there were three young birds, clinging with their feet against one of the jambs, looking at me, open-mouthed, and all clamouring together, so as quite to fill the room with the short, eager, frightened sound. The old birds, by certain signs upon the floor of the room, appeared to have fallen victims to the appetite of the cat. La belle Nancy provided a basket filled with cotton-wool, into which the poor little devils were put; and I tried to feed them with soaked bread, of which, however, they did not eat with much relish. Tom, the Irish boy, gave it as his opinion that they were not old enough to be weaned. I hung the basket out of the window, in the sunshine, and upon looking in, an hour or two after, found that two of the birds had escaped. The other I tried to feed, and sometimes, when a morsel of bread was thrust into its open mouth, it would swallow it. But it appeared to suffer very much, vociferating loudly when disturbed, and panting, in a sluggish agony, with eyes closed, or half opened, when let alone. It distressed me a good deal; and I felt relieved, though somewhat shocked, when B---- put an end to its misery by squeezing its head and throwing it out of the window. They were of a slate-colour, and might, I suppose, have been able to shift for themselves. The other day a little yellow bird flew into one of the empty rooms, of which there are half a dozen on the lower floor, and could not find his way out again, flying at the glass of the windows, instead of at the door, thumping his head against the panes or against the ceiling. I drove him into the entry and chased him from end to end, endeavouring to make him fly through one of the open doors. He would fly at the circular light over the door, clinging to the casement, sometimes alighting on one of the two glass lamps, or on the cords that suspended them, uttering an affrighted and melancholy cry whenever I came near and flapped my handkerchief, and appearing quite tired and sinking into despair. At last he happened to fly low enough to pass through the door, and immediately vanished into the gladsome sunshine. Ludicrous situation of a man, drawing his chaise down a sloping bank, to wash in the river. The chaise got the better of him, and, rushing downward as if it were possessed, compelled him to run at full speed, and drove him up to his chin into the water. A singular instance, that a chaise may run away with a man without a horse!

I more than ever abhor letter-writing

Lenox, August 1st. Friday [1851]

Dearest Phoebe,

I send the tools, which I found in one of the cupboards. Thy two letters arrived together, this morning. I was at the P. O. on Wednesday, and greatly disappointed to find nothing.

Julian and I get along together in great harmony, & as happy as we can be severed from thee. It grieves me that thou findest nobody to help thee there. It this state of things is to continue, thou must abridge thy stay, and return before thou art quite worn out.

I wrote a few lines on Tuesday (I think) which I suppose thou hast received. I more than ever abhor letter-writing; but thou partly knowest that I am

Thy lovingest

HUSBAND.

Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
West Newton.