The Portland daily press., 1896-01-29
REcoLLEcTloNs OF HAWTHORNE.

RECOLLECTlONS OF HAWTHORNE.
Daughters Memories of His Life in Eng
land.
Monthly.
In the early years of our stay in Eng
land his personality was most radiant.
His face was sunny, his aspect that OF
shining elegance. There was the perpet-
ual CLEAN of glad smile ON his mouth
and in his eyes. His eyes were either a
light gray or violet blue, according to
his mood. His hair was brown and
waved loosely q take it very hard when
people ask me il it was at all red), and
his complexion was as clear and lumi-
nous as his mothers, who was the most
beautiful woman some people have ever
seen. He was tall, and with as little
superf1uous flesh and rs much sturdy
vigor as young athlete; for his mode
of life was always athletic, simple and
abstemious. He leaned his head lit
tie to one side, often. in position indi-
eating alert rest, such as we find in many
Greek statues,-so different from the
straight. logged pose OF Roman en-
peror. He was very apt to make an as
sent with an upward movement Of the
head, comfortable hmm, and half
smiles Sympathetic he was, indeed, and
warm with the fire that never goes out
in great natures. He had much dignity
so much that persons in his own country
sometimes thought him shy and reticent
to the verge of morbidness. But it was
merely the gentleness of the man, who
W as jocund with no one hut his intimate
friends, and never fierce except with
rascals, as observed on one or TWO oo-
casiOns. Those who thought him too
silent were bores whom he desired not
to attract. Those who thought him I'M
philosophical (and some philosophers
| thought that) were not artists, and could
not analyze his work. Those no knew
him for a man and frien We mani y
and salubrious of soul t zen. es. Per-
haps the testimony of oh George Mullet
of Salem, who was often with my father
IN the custom house, will serve as an ex-
ample of the good fellowship OF nature
which could be SO silent at will:
"CapG. Stephen Burchmore was the
Veteran ship-master' spoken of in the
Introduction to The Scarlet Letter,
whose stories stirred Hawthorne to
laughter and admiration. The stories
themselves were. generally extravaganza
| and grotesque; it was the marvellous
gift of narration that carried people
away. have known the company pres.
emit to roar with laughter, and not one
more oonvulsed than Mr.. Hawthorne.
|. For nearly four years I was
brought into almost daily proximity to
him, either officially or casually. His
port, his placidity, his hours of abstrac-
ton, his mild, pleasant voice (no sweeter
ever uttered by mortal lips), are all
readily recalled even now. !"
| He was usually reserved, but he was
| ready for action all the time. His full,
smooth lips, sensitive as child's, would
tell as student of facial lines how vivid
was his life, though absolutely under his
cool command. He was a delightful
companion even when little was said,
because his eyes spoke with sor5 of APP
prehension OF your thought SO that you
felt that your expression OF fGce was a
clear record for him. and that words
would have been sort of anti-climax.
His panionship was exquisitely resi-
full, since it was instinotively sympa-
thetic. He did not heed to exert himself
| to know you deeply, and he saw all the
RUUQ LII you Uu6l6 was W huCWt anu Uu6
weakness and the wrong of any heart he
weighed as nicely III the balance of ten
der mercy as we could do in pity for our
selves. l always felt great awe OF him,
a tremendous sense of his power. His
large eyes, liquid with blue and white
light and deep with dark shadows, told
me even when l was very young that he
was III some respects different from other
people. He could be most tender iE out
ward action, but he never threw such 40
ton away. He knew swine under the
cieverest disguise. l speak of outward
acts of tenderness. Az for his spirit, it
was always arousing mine, or any ones,
and acting toward ones spiritual being
invislbly and silently, but with gentle
earnastness. He evinced by it either a
sternly sweet dignity of tolerance, or a
generous appreciation, or sadly glanced,
adverse com ment that dashed ones inner
consciousness with re morse. He was
meditatiye, as all those are who care that
the world is full of sorrow and sin, but
cheerful, as those are who have the char
acter and genius to see the finite beauty
and perfection in the world, which are
sent to the true-hearted as indications OF
heaven. He could be full of cheer, and
at the same time never lose the solemnity
of a pero eptiUn of the Infinite, that
familiar fact which we, so many of us,
have ceased to fear, but which the great
est men SO remember and reverence. He
never became wholly merged in fun, how
ever gay the games in which he joined
with us children; just as a man of refine
ment who has been in war ne Yer quite
throws aside the dignity of the sorrow
which he has seen. He might seem, at a
superficial glance, to be the merriest of
us all, but on second thoughts he was not.
OF course, there were times when it was
very evident to me thai my father was as
comfortable and happy as he cared to be.
When ne stood upon the hearthrug, be-
fore the swapping, blushing English fire
always poked into blaze toward even
ing, as he was about to enter the parlor
when he stood there with his hands
clasped behind him, swaying from side to
side in a way peculiar to him, and which
| recalled the many sea-swayed ancestors
of his who had kept their feet on rolling
decks, then he was picture of beneyo-
lent pleasure. Perhaps, for this moment.
| the soldier from the battle fields of the
soul ceased to remember scenes of cruelty
and agony. He swayed from side to side,
| and raised himself on his toes, and
creaked his slippered holes jocosely. and
spoi1ad upOn me and lost hirpCo1f in