TO MR. BLACKWOOD.
Via Maggio, Florence.
We are very curious and interested about ‘Adam Bede.’ which we see advertised and criticised in the ‘Athenaeum.’ We shall be having a parcel sent out to us shortly, — might I ask for a copy? — which if you will kindly send along with my copy of the Magazine to my brother, would be forwarded to me here, and would be a great gratification, as English books are not plentiful.
...I am sure you must be very much gratified by the extraordinary success of ‘Adam Bede,’ I have never yet had an opportunity of getting the book sent out, so I am still ignorant of it, but the flutter of curiosity in the newspapers is sufficiently exciting, I don’t want to pry into the secret, but pray tell me one thing: I cannot believe that the author of the ‘Scenes of Clerical Life’ is a woman — is that extraordinary guess correct? I shall feel quite satisfied if you say no. My husband, reading for the first time one of the first books of Anthony Trollope, thought he perceived a considerable resemblance in that writer to Mr. Gilfil and the Rev. Amos Barton — but I will not ask you whether that guess edges upon the truth.
We are shortly going into Rome for the winter — everything is quiet and going on as usual. What does anybody suppose is going to happen to this country? These ‘Times’ articles about Florence are very cruel and unjust so far as regards the visible habits of the people. They are very gay and idle certainly — how can they be otherwise? but I know that many cadets of the best Florentine families went off long ago as volunteers to the Sardinian army, serving there as privates, and writing joyous letters home about their fatigues and privations, which is somewhat different from the account we see of them now.
The time of deep sorrow and struggle which followed the writing of this letter is described in the Autobiography, and need not be recapitulated here. Mr. Oliphant died in Rome; and six weeks later the baby son who, as he grew up, always retained his baby name, “Cecco,” was born. It is hard to imagine anything more desolate than the young widow’s position at this time, yet her letters show how bravely she kept up her heart, and how indefatigably she worked for the three little ones dependent on her. Perhaps one secret of her amazing power of work was that she never lost interest in the lives and work of other people.
Babuino,
December 17.
I am very glad to let you know that I am likely to be soon better and on my way home. I have another baby son who is doing well also, and everything promises satisfactorily for us both. I hope soon to be able to make my acknowledgments of your kindness in a manner more satisfactory, and to resume work.