186 EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
March 20, 1842. My friend is cold and re¬ 
served because liis loye for me is waxing and 
not waning. These are the early processes ; 
the particles are just beginning to shoot in 
crystals. If the mountains came to me I should 
no longer go to the mountains. So soon as that 
consummation takes place which I wish, it will 
be past. Shall I not have a friend in reserve ? 
Heaven is to come. I hope this is not it. Words 
should pass between friends as the lightning 
passes from cloud to cloud. 
I don’t know how much I assist in the econ¬ 
omy of nature when I declare a fact. Is it not 
an important fact in the history of a plant that 
I tell my friend where I found it ? We do not 
wish friends to feed and clothe our bodies 
(neighbors are kind enough for that), but to 
do the like offices for our spirits. We wish to 
spread and publish ourselves as the sun spreads 
its rays, and we toss the new thought to the 
friend, and thus it is dispersed. Friends are 
those twain who feel their interests to be one. 
Each knows that the other might as well have 
said what he said. All beauty, all music, all 
delight springs from apparent dualism, but real 
unity. My friend is my real brother. I see 
his nature groping yonder so like my own. 
Does there go one whom I know, then I go 
there. Comparatively speaking I care not for 
