e hours; but thinking it for
the interest of her future public career, and always becoming rapt and
excited beyond all other considerations in her own capital musical
performances.... As for me, I am rather bewildered by the whirl in which
we live, which I find rather a trying contrast to my late solitary
existence in America.... The incessant music wears upon my nerves a
great deal; but chiefly, I think, because half the time I am not able to
listen to it quietly, and it distracts me while I am obliged to attend
to other things. But indeed, often, when I can give my undivided
attention to it, my sister's singing excites me to such a degree that I
am obliged, after crying my bosom full of tears, to run out of the room.

My father continues in wonderful good looks and spirits.... Here, dear
H----, a long interruption.... We are off to St. John's Wood, to dine
with the Procters: ---- is not ready; my sister is lying on the sofa,
reading aloud an Italian letter to me; the children are rioting about
the room like a couple of little maniacs, and I feel inclined to endorse
Macbeth's opinion of life, that it is all sound and fury and signifying
nothing.... Thus far, and another interruption; and now it is to-morrow,
and Lady Grey and Lady G---- have just gone out of the room, and Chauncy
Hare Townsend has just come in, followed by his mesmeric German patient,
who is going to perform his magnetic magic for us. I think I will let
him try what sort of a subject I should be.

I enclose a little note and silk chain, brought for you from America by
Miss Fanny Appleton [afterwards Mrs. Longfellow], who has just arrived
in London, to the great joy of her sister. I suppose these tokens come
to you from the Sedgwicks. I have a little box which poor C---- S----
brought from Catherine for you--a delicate carved wooden casket, that I
have not sent to you because I was afraid it would be broken, by any
post or coach conveyance. Tell me about this, how I shall send it to
you. I have obtained too for you that German book which I delight in so
very much, Richter's "Fruit, Flower, and Thorn Pieces," and which, in
the midst of much that is probably too German, in thought, feeling, and
expression, to meet with your entire sympathy, will, I think, furnish
you with sweet and pleasant thoughts for a while; I scarce know anything
that I like much better.

I was going to see Rachel this evening, but my brother and his wife
having come up to town for