kind, dear words will accompany me on my pilgrimage like my mother's blessing. And be not uneasy for me, my sweet mamma. Human beings continue to be infinitely kind to my mother's daughter. And I meet with good friends and good homes everywhere. Excepting in my own country I could not find better homes, nor experience kinder care, than here. I cannot describe how thankful I am for this journey, and the effect which it has on me. May I only be able some time to develope its garnered treasure in my Swedish home, and with my beloved ones!
LETTER XXIII.
Here, my little heart, amid a regular deluge of rain, which prevents me from seeing anything of the Capital of the Emperor State and its Senate House, I continue my conversation with you, that is to say, in writing, for the silent communion went on all the same.
In my last letter from Brooklyn, I told you, I think, how that my friends, the S.'s, would go with me as far as the Shaker Community at New Lebanon. And on an unspeakably fine day I again ascended that beautiful Hudson, again saw its wild romantic highlands, its rich populated shores; saw the turrets of the Downings' house glancing forth from amid its wooded grounds, cast towards it a look of love, and—enjoyed the life with nature and Marcus, Rebecca and Eddy, as we progressed in that magnificent, comfortable steamboat. Towards evening we reached the little city of Hudson, where we landed, and then took the stage, which in about two hours' time brought us to the Springs of New Lebanon, a celebrated watering-place, half an English mile from the Shaker village, and Marcus and I walked in the beautiful evening
