EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 67 
extent my patron. He would not come to see 
me, but was hurt if I did not visit him. He 
would not readily accept a favor, but would 
gladly confer one. He treated me with cere¬ 
mony occasionally, though he could be simple 
and downright sometimes. From time to time 
he acted a part, treating me as if I were a dis¬ 
tinguished stranger, was on stilts, using made 
words. Our relation was one long tragedy, yet 
I did not directly speak of it. I do not believe 
in complaint, nor in explanations. The whole 
is but too plain, alas, already. We grieve that 
we do not love each other. I could not bring 
myself to speak and so recognize an obstacle to 
our affection. 
I had another friend who through a slight 
obtuseness, perchance, did not recognize a fact 
which the dignity of friendship would by no 
means allow me to descend so far as to speak 
of, and yet the inevitable effect of that igno¬ 
rance was to hold us apart forever. 
March 6, 1858. We read the English poets, 
we study botany and zoology and geology, lean 
and dry as they are, and it is rare that we 
get a new suggestion. It is ebb tide with the 
scientific reports, Professor —- in the chair. 
We would fain know something more about 
these animals and stones and trees around us. 
We are ready to skin the animals alive to come 
