"
A considerable intimacy grew up between my mother and the author of
_Highways and Byeways_ during the latter part of his residence in
England, and subsequently, when returning from Boston on leave, he
visited Florence and Rome. Many letters passed between them after
his establishment as British Consul at Boston, some characteristic
selections from which will, I doubt not, be acceptable to many
readers.
The following was written on the envelope enclosing a very long letter
from Mrs. Grattan, and was written, I think, in 1840:--
* * * * *
"I cannot avoid squeezing in a few words more just as the ship is on
the point of sailing or steaming away for England ... 'The President'
has been a fatal title this spring. Poor Harrison, a good and honest
man, died in a month after he was elected, and this fine ship, about
which we have been at this side of the Atlantic so painfully excited
ever since March, is, I fear, gone down with its gallant captain
(Roberts, with whom we crossed the Atlantic in the _British Queen_)
and poor Power, whom the public cannot afford to lose.
"Since I wrote my letter three days ago--pardon the boldly original
topic--the weather has mended considerably. Tell Tom that every tree
is also striving to turn over a new leaf, and it is well for you that
I have not another to turn too. God bless you.
"T.C.G."
* * * * *
I beg to observe that the exhortation addressed to me had no moral
significance, but was the writer's characteristic mode of exciting me
to new scribblements.
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