bright thought, all suggestive life, is an outpouring!”—That was one of the first observations you made to me.
This sun has become my sun. In this light I go forth seeking and reflecting; and that which I see in this light, you also shall see; for that which is mine is yours.
I embrace your wife, and kiss the little ones around her, and expect to be embraced and kissed by them again—in Sweden!
P. S.—My letter terrifies me; it has grown to such a length and breadth, that my friends in Cincinnati must regard it as one of the shapeless giant productions of the Great West, a sort of Rhimthurse from the Mississippi Utgård. It strikes me like some sort of witch with many feet, and many eyes peeping out on all sides. And now it shall run off to Sweden! Off with it!—and what the thing has of head and heart I will trust you for finding out.
In a few days I shall set off for New Orleans, and from thence to Cuba for the winter months. I wish to see the face of earth under a tropical sun, and under the dominion of the Spaniard. I wish to see the southern cross, and the great star Argo in the, heavens. Then I will turn back towards the Pole-star and our silent North, my dear, quiet home!
LETTER XXX.
The day before yesterday, the 16th, I left Cincinnati; my kind, excellent host and hostess accompanied me on board the steamer, and overwhelmed me even at the last moment, with proofs of their good-will, all light and agreeable to bear away with me, because they were bestowed with a warm heart, and they were to accompany me to Sweden, and there remind me of the beautiful Ohio
