better hereafter. I have long had a presentiment of the romance of life, in its infinite greatness and depth of feeling. When it dawned before my glance, that first view of a transfigured world, never shall I forget that heavenly Aurora, which was, which is, which will continue for ever to be a bright spot in my earthly life. For that I have to thank Sweden. Clouds, however, veiled it for a moment; I did not see it clearly, or rather, I could no longer recal it in its first beauty. Now again I behold it; and I predict that for its perfect daybreak I shall have to thank—America. My life, also, in and with this new world, assumes a romantic form. It is not merely a new continent, a new form of things, with centuries for its future which I have here to observe; it is a living soul, a great character, an individual mind, with which I must become acquainted, live and converse with during a profoundly earnest intercourse. How I desire to see its characteristic features, to listen to its revelations, its unconsciously oracular words regarding its life and its future! And that great, universal hospitality with which this great new world receives me, makes me feel that it is a heart, a living spirit which meets me in it.
Now for a little of the exterior of my life. I last left you when I was just about to pay a visit with Mr. Downing to Mr. H. and his family. As we came down to the bridge at Newburgh two men were there, the one fat, and the other lean, who were talking loudly, and with so much warmth, that they seemed to be in a state of anger with each other. “Everybody who goes with this steam-boat is robbed!” exclaimed the one; “it is full of pickpockets and rogues!” “Let everyone who is careful of his life,” cried the other, “take care not to go in the boat he recommends: it has a cracked boiler, and will blow up before long!”—“That is not true, but the greatest lie!” returned the first, and they cast terrible glances at each other from under their contracted eye-
