seldom rains in good earnest. It never does rain, and it never don't rain; but you are pretty sure to get a sprinkling if you go out without an umbrella. Except by the fireside, I have not once been as warm as I should like to be: but the Englishmen call it a sultry day whenever the thermometer rises above 60°. There has not been heat enough in England this season to ripen an apple.
My wife and children often talk of you. Even the baby has not forgotten you. Write often, and say as much as you can about yourself, and as little as you please about A——, N——, and B——, and all the rest of those wretches of whom my soul was weary to death before I made my escape.
Your friend ever,
Nath. Hawthorne."
Writing to Bridge again, November 28, 1854, he continues, with regard to his consular prospects, by a comparison between the pay received by English consuls and that allowed by the new bill to Americans. Only $7,500 were to be paid the consul at Liverpool. "Now I employ three clerks constantly," says Hawthorne "and sometimes more. The bill provides that these clerks should be Americans; and the whole sum allowed would not do much more than pay competent Americans, whose salaries must be much higher than would content Englishmen of equal qualifications. No consul can keep the office at this rate, without engaging in business—which the bill forbids." He adds that the notion that, by the proposed measure, a fund would be gained from the larger consulates towards paying the salaries of the smaller ones, was mistaken, since "a large part of the income of this consulate arises from business which might just as well be transacted by a notary public as by a consul, and which a consul is therefore not officially bound to do. All such business as this the consul will cease to transact, the moment the avails of it go into the public treasury, instead of his own purse; and thus there will be an immediate falling off of the office to a very considerable extent."
Later on, he says: "I should really be ashamed to tell you how much my income is taxed by the assistance which I find it absolutely necessary to render to American citizens, who come to me in difficulty or distress. Every day there is some new claimant, for whom the government makes no provision, and whom the consul must assist, if at all, out of his own pocket. It is impossible (or at any rate very disagreeable) to leave a countryman to starve in the streets, or to hand him over to the charities of an English work-house; so I do my best for these poor devils. But I doubt whether they will meet with quite so good treatment after the passage of the consular bill. If the government chooses to starve the consul, a good many will starve with him."
The bill, nevertheless, was passed. Lieutenant Bridge, who was then stationed at Washington, had done all that he could to rouse an effectual opposition to its enactment; and his friend wrote to him from Liverpool (March 23, 1855) thus:—
"I thank you for your efforts against this bill; but Providence is wiser than we are, and doubtless it will all turn out for the best. All through my life, I have had occasion to observe that what seemed to be misfortunes have proved, in the end, to be the best things that could possibly have happened to me; and so it will be with this—even though the mode in which it benefits me may never be made clear to my apprehension. It would seem to be a desirable thing enough that I should have had a sufficient income to live comfortably upon for the rest of my life, without the necessity of labor; but, on the other hand, I might have sunk prematurely into intellectual sluggishness—which now there will be no danger of my doing; though with a house and land of my own, and a good little sum at interest besides, I need not be under any very great anxiety about the future. When I contrast my present situation with what it was five years ago, I see a vast deal to be thankful for; and I still hope to thrive by my legitimate instrument—the pen. One consideration which goes very far towards reconciling me to quitting the office is my wife's health, with which the climate of England does not agree.... In short, we have wholly ceased to regret the action of Congress (which, nevertheless, was most unjust and absurd), and are looking at matters on the bright side. However, I shall be glad to get what advantage I can out of the office, and therefore I hope Pierce will give me as long a line as his conscience will let him."
Believing that the office of consul with a salary reduced to $7,500, which was only half the sum it had previously yielded in good years, would not be worth the sacrifice involved in giving himself up to its duties, he purposed resigning within a few months, taking a trip to Italy, and then going home. But, fortunately for his pecuniary welfare, the act of Congress had been so loosely framed (in harmony with the general ignorance on which it was based), that it was left to the President to reappoint old incumbents under the new system or not, as he pleased. Pierce accordingly let Hawthorne's commission run on without interruption, and the consul stayed through the rest of the administration's term.
While the matter was still in abeyance, however, the suggestion came from Bridge that he allow himself to be transferred to Lisbon as minister. The prospect was, in one way, seductive. Hawthorne was growing anxious about his wife's health, and felt that nothing could be more delightful than to take her to a warmer climate, which she needed, and thus avoid the temporary separation which might have to be undergone if he remained at Liverpool. The objections were, that he had no acquaintance with diplomacy, did not know Portuguese, and disliked forms and ceremonies. "You will observe," he wrote, "that the higher rank and position of a minister, as compared with a consul, have no weight with me. This is not the kind of honor of which I am ambitious." With a good deal of hesitation he came to the belief that it would be wise for him not to make the change. "But," he remarked, "it was a most kind and generous thing on the part of the President to entertain the idea." His friend, Mr. John O'Sullivan, who had been the founder and editor of the "Democratic Review," to which Hawthorne had contributed copiously during his residence at the Manse, was at this time accredited to the Court of Lisbon, and would doubtless have been provided for in some other way had Hawthorne been promoted to the place. The latter decided to stay at Liverpool, but to send Mrs. Hawthorne to Lisbon, where she would find not only milder air, but also friends in the minister and his wife. She sailed with her daughters in October, 1855, and returned in the following June.
Wearisome as the details of his office duty were to him, Hawthorne gave them more than a perfunctory attention. He became greatly aroused by the wrongs and cruelties endured by sailors on the high seas, and sent a long despatch on that subject to the Secretary of State, suggesting action for their relief. He even investigated such minutiæ as the candles used in the British navy, and sent samples of them to Bridge, thinking that it might be desirable to compare them with those in use on American war-ships. Opportunities, however, had occurred for several trips in various directions, to Wales, Furness Abbey, and the Lakes. London was visited just before Mrs. Hawthorne sailed; and during her absence he again went to the capital, and made a tour which included Glasgow, Edinburgh, York, Newcastle, and Salisbury. A few days before her expected return, he said in a letter to Bridge that unless she should prove to be perfectly free from the cough which had troubled her, "I shall make arrangements to give up the consulate in the latter part of autumn, and we will be off for Italy. I wish I were a little richer; but when I compare my situation with what it was before I wrote 'The Scarlet Letter,' I have reason to be satisfied with my run of luck. And, to say the truth, I had rather not be too prosperous: it may be a superstition, but it seems to me that the bitter is very apt to come with the sweet, and bright sunshine casts a dark shadow; so I content myself with a moderate portion of sugar, and about as much sunshine as that of an English summer's day. In this view of the matter, I am disposed to thank God for the gloom and chill of my early life, in the hope that my share of adversity came then, when I bore it alone; and that therefore it need not come now, when the cloud would involve those whom I love.
"I make my plans to return to America in about two years from this time. For my own part, I should be willing to stay abroad much longer, and perhaps even to settle in Italy; but the children must not be kept away so long as to lose their American characteristics; otherwise they will be exiles and outcasts through life."
The presidential convention of the democratic party was held early in the summer of 1856, and Buchanan, then minister at the Court of St. James, became the candidate.
