gton, in 1872.

In the year 1871 Emerson made a visit to California with a very pleasant
company, concerning which Mr. John M. Forbes, one of whose sons married
Emerson's daughter Edith, writes to me as follows. Professor James B.
Thayer, to whom he refers, has more recently written and published an
account of this trip, from which some extracts will follow Mr. Forbes's
letter:--

BOSTON, February 6, 1884.

MY DEAR DR.,--What little I can give will be of a very rambling
character.

One of the first memories of Emerson which comes up is my meeting
him on the steamboat at returning from Detroit East. I persuaded him
to stop over at Niagara, which he had never seen. We took a carriage
and drove around the circuit. It was in early summer, perhaps in
1848 or 1849. When we came to Table Rock on the British side, our
driver took us down on the outer part of the rock in the carriage.
We passed on by rail, and the next day's papers brought us the
telegraphic news that Table Rock had fallen over; perhaps we were
among the last persons on it!

About 1871 I made up a party for California, including Mr. Emerson,
his daughter Edith, and a number of gay young people. We drove with
B----, the famous Vermont coachman, up to the Geysers, and then made
the journey to the Yosemite Valley by wagon and on horseback. I wish
I could give you more than a mere outline picture of the sage at
this time. With the thermometer at 100 degrees he would sometimes
drive with the buffalo robes drawn up over his knees, apparently
indifferent to the weather, gazing on the new and grand scenes
of mountain and valley through which we journeyed. I especially
remember once, when riding down the steep side of a mountain, his
reins hanging loose, the bit entirely out of the horse's mouth,
without his being aware that this was an unusual method of riding
Pegasus, so fixed was his gaze into space, and so unconscious was
he, at the moment, of his surroundings.

In San Francisco he visited with us the dens of the opium smokers,
in damp cellars, with rows of shelves around, on which were
deposited the stupefied Mongolians; perhaps the lowest haunts of
humanity to be found in the world. The contrast between them and
the serene eye and undisturbed brow of the sage was a sight for all
beholders.

When we reached Salt Lake City on ou