is to say, if I do not prefer remaining in my own room and enjoying an evening's peace; and if I had requested this of my friends, I should have done so. But I allow myself to be borne along with the stream as long as I am able.
In the morning we go to Emerson's, who lives in a little city called Concord, at about an hour's distance by railway from Boston; and the next day, or the day following that, I go to the Lowells at the University of Cambridge, a few miles from this place, where I remain some days, and where I shall more exactly determine my stay in Boston. I have had various invitations to different families, but as yet have not accepted any. It will be a painful thing to me to part from these excellent people, Marcus and Rebecca. They belong to the best kind of people, and are infinitely agreeable to live with.
My dear Agatha! I write very imperfectly to you about both things and people here; but neither things nor people here allow me any time in which to write about them. So much the more, however, shall we have to talk about, and so much the more shall I some time have to write about; for people and circumstances affect me powerfully, and in a manner which astonishes and excites me greatly. I feel every day how altogether necessary for my whole life, and for the development of my moral and intellectual being, is this American journey.
Tuesday, December, 4th.—Just returned from my little journey with the S——s and Bergfalk to Concord, the oldest town in Massachussets, and the residence of Waldo Emerson. We drove there, and arrived in the midst of a regular snow-storm. But the railway carriages are well warmed, and one sits there in beautiful ease and comfort, excepting that one gets well shook, for the railroads here are much more uneven than those on which I have travelled in Europe.
