of a beautiful brown, and softly curling-in short, of quite a poetical appearance! He will remain here with me over to-morrow; but he insists upon it that on the following day I shall accompany him to his house on the Hudson, where I can make the acquaintance of his wife at my leisure, in the Highlands of the Hudson, as well as consider over my future traveling movements.

I have spent the evening, with my friends from the "Canada" and Mr. Downing, in one of the many large drawing-rooms of the house, and there made various acquaintances. Magnificent drawing-rooms with furniture of velvet, with mirrors and gilding brilliant with gas-lighted, magnificent chandeliers, and other grandeur, stand open in every story of the house for ladies and gentlemen who live here, or who are visiting here, to converse or to rest, talking together on soft and splendid sofas or arm-chairs, fanning themselves, and just as if they had nothing else to do in the world than to make themselves agreeable to one another. Scarcely can a lady rise, than immediately a gentleman is at hand to offer her his arm.

October 5th. Uf! It is more wearisome here than any body can believe; and I am quite tired out after one day of lion-life here.

Through the whole day have I had nothing to do but to receive visits; to sit or to stand in a grand parlor, and merely turn from one to another, receiving the salutations and shaking hands with sometimes half a dozen new acquaintance at once-gentlemen of all professions and all nations, ladies who invite me to their house and home, and who wish that I would go immediately; besides a number of letters which I could do no more than merely break open, requests for autographs, and so on. I have shaken hands with from seventy to eighty persons to-day, while I was unable to receive the visits of many others. Of the names I remember scarcely any, but the greater number of the people whom I have seen please me from

their cordial, frank manners, and I am grateful to them for their extreme friendliness toward me: it feels to me so warm and hospitable. Nevertheless, I was very glad to be relieved for a few hours from my good friends, and to drive out with Mr. Downing to the beautiful Greenwood, the large and new cemetery of New York, a young Père la Chaise, but on a more gigantic scale as to situation and plan. One drives as if in an extensive English park, amid hill and dale. From the highest hill, Ocean Hill, as it is called, one looks out to the sea-a glorious view. I should like to repose here. The most beautiful monument which I saw was of white marble, and had been erected by sorrowing parents over their young daughter and only child. The young girl had been thrown from a carriage.

On our return to the hotel, I dined with Mr. Downing in one of the smaller saloons. I saw some gentlemen sitting at table, whom it was as distressing for me to look at as it is to look at over-driven, worn-out horses, for so they looked to me. The restless, deeply-sunk eyes, the excited, wearied features, to what a life they bore witness! Better lie and sleep on Ocean Hill than live thus on Broadway! These figures resembled a few of those which I had seen at the Astor House; but I had already seen on Broadway both human beings and horses which I wished not to have seen on the soil of the New World, and which testify to dark passages of life even there. And yet-how should it be otherwise, especially at New York? which is rather a large hotel, a caravanserai for the whole world, than a regular American city.

After dinner, I again received visitors; among these, Mrs. Child. She gave me the impression of a beautiful soul, but too angular to be happy. The little poetess, Miss Lynch, was among the visitors of the morning, an agreeable, pretty, and intellectual young lady, in whose countenance there is a look of Jenny Lind. I also saw

some of my countrymen. A pleasant young Swede, Frestadius, came with a large bouquet. The Norwegian consul, Hejerdahl, Mr. Buttenskön, I had scarcely time for more than merely to exchange a greeting with. Oneonius came, also, from the West, and wished to talk with me, that I might warn our countrymen against emigration and its sufferings.

Among the invitations of to-day there was one to a Phalanstery, situated in New Jersey, not far from New York. I shall have no objection to make a nearer acquaintance with these wild beasts. The family which invited me thither on a visit to themselves did not seem at all repulsive, but, on the contrary, attractive, so ingenuous, kind, and earnest did they appear.

But that which I am a little afraid of is, for myself at least, lest life in this country should be like this of today; then I should be regularly worn out, for my strength could never stand against these many lively people. What is to be done if it goes on in this way? Fortunately, I shall be conveyed away from New York early to-morrow morning by the excellent Mr. Downing. This evening I must, spite of my fatigue, drive to a soirée at the house of Miss Lynch, who wishes to introduce me to some of her literary friends. I am dressed for this purpose, have on my best clothes, and look quite respectable in them, and am writing while I wait for the carriage. Only to think of those who are lying down to sleep!

I am still in joint quarters with the pale young girl from the South; I have never seen any one with so serene a mind, or one who meets suffering so cheerfully. She is a quiet, pious being, endowed with great strength and tenderness of soul.

I must now go! Good-night!

Newburgh, on the Hudson, October 7th. Sunday. My sweet sister, my sweet friend! how glad

I am to be here in the young, New World; how thankful I am to Providence, who, in his mercy, through the impulse of mind and of steam, brought me happily hither, although I am, at the same time, almost as much burdened as elevated by the crowd of impressions and thoughts which, as it were, rush in upon me at once.

Every thing of which I have had a foretaste, which I have sought after and longed for, do I meet with here, and more than that. I mean nourishment and light for the inquiring and searching spirit within me. I consider myself especially fortunate in coming in contact with Mr. Downing, a noble and acutely discriminating spirit, a true American, yet without blind patriotism, an open heart, a critically sagacious intellect, one who can assist me to understand the condition and the questions of this country. And with such assistance it is very requisite to begin.

It was also requisite that I should really be released bodily from my friends of the Astor House and New York, who otherwise would have made an end of me in the beginning. I was so weary of that first day's labor in social life, which lasted till long after midnight, and was so much in want of rest and sleep, that I did not believe it possible for me to set off from New York at five o'clock the next morning. I said so to Mr. Downing, who very mildly, yet decidedly, remarked, "Oh, we must endeavor to do so!" on which I thought to myself, "these Americans believe that every thing is possible !" but feeling, at the same time that the thing was quite impracticable. And yet at half past four the next morning I was up and ready dressed, kissed in her bed the pale girl from the South, who at the last moment tied round my neck a little silk handkerchief, as delicate and white as herself, and then hastened down to place myself under the tyranny of Mr. Downing. The carriage was already at the door, and seated in it I found Miss Lynch, whom Mr. Downing had invited to pass the Sunday at his house.

"Go ahead! New World!" cried the servant at the door of the hotel to our driver; and we rolled away down Broadway to the harbor, where the great steam-boat, the "New World," received us on board. This was really a little floating palace, splendid and glittering with white and gold on the outside, splendid and elegant within: large saloons, magnificent furniture, where ladies and gentlemen reclined comfortably, talking or reading the newspapers. I saw here none of Dickens' smoking and spitting gentlemen. We floated proudly and smoothly on the broad, magnificent Hudson. It was a pity that the day was rainy, because the voyage was, excepting for this, one of the most beautiful which any one can conceive, especially when, after a few hours' time, we reached what are called the Highlands. The shores, with their boldly wood-covered heights, reminded me continually of the shores of the Dala and the Angermanna Rivers, nay, seemed to me to belong to the same natural conformation, excepting that here it was broader and on a larger scale; and the dark clouds which hung between the hills in heavy draperies above the river were in perfect harmony with the gloomily beautiful passes through which we swung, and which presented at every new turn new and more magnificent pictures. The river was full of life. Wooden-roofed steamboats, brilliant, as ours, with gold and white, passed up and down the river. Other steam-boats drew along with them flotillas of from twenty to thirty boats, laden with goods from the country to New York, while hundreds of smaller and larger craft were seen skimming along past the precipitous shores like white doves with red, fluttering neck-ribbons. On the shores shone forth white countryhouses and small farms. I observed a great variety in the style of building: many of the houses were in the Gothic style, others like Grecian temples; and why not? The home ought to be a temple as well as a habitation and a store-house. Also in our old north was the house