NOTES FROM THE PKAIlilE lH 



You call it picturesqueness ; I call it grotesque- 

 ness). But it was of no use; it makes me 

 tired all over to think of it. All the time I 

 said to myself, 'Oh, do stop your scolding; 

 you are not so much better than the rest of us. ' 

 One is willing to be led to a higher life, but 

 who wants to be pushed and cuffed along? 

 How can people place him and our own Emer- 

 son, the dear guide and friend of so many of 

 us, on the same level? It may be that the 

 world had need of him, just as it needs light- 

 ning and rain and cold and pain, but must we 

 like these things ? " ^ 



1 My correspondent was Mrs. Beardslee of Manchesteii 

 Iowa. She died in October, 1885. 



