rrative might have been made much more interesting, as life was
at the time, by many piquant anecdotes and tales drawn from private
life. But here courtesy restrains the pen, for I know those who
received the stranger with such frank kindness would feel ill requited
by its becoming the means of fixing many spy-glasses, even though the
scrutiny might be one of admiring interest, upon their private homes.

For many of these anecdotes, too, I was indebted to a friend, whose
property they more lawfully are. This friend was one of those rare
beings who are equally at home in nature and with man. He knew a
tale of all that ran and swam and flew, or only grew, possessing
that extensive familiarity with things which shows equal sweetness
of sympathy and playful penetration. Most refreshing to me was his
unstudied lore, the unwritten poetry which common life presents to a
strong and gentle mind. It was a great contrast to the subtilties of
analysis, the philosophic strainings of which I had seen too much. But
I will not attempt to transplant it. May it profit others as it did me
in the region where it was born, where it belongs.

The evening of our return to Chicago, the sunset was of a splendor and
calmness beyond any we saw at the West. The twilight that succeeded
was equally beautiful; soft, pathetic, but just so calm. When
afterwards I learned this was the evening of Allston's death, it
seemed to me as if this glorious pageant was not without connection
with that event; at least, it inspired similar emotions,--a heavenly
gate closing a path adorned with shows well worthy Paradise.

FAREWELL TO ROCK RIVER VALLEY.

Farewell, ye soft and sumptuous solitudes!
Ye fairy distances, ye lordly woods,
Haunted, by paths like those that Poussin knew,
When after his all gazers' eyes he drew;
I go,--and if I never more may steep
An eager heart in your enchantments deep,
Yet ever to itself that heart may say,
Be not exacting; them hast lived one day,--
Hast looked on that which matches with thy mood,
Impassioned sweetness of full being's flood,
Where nothing checked the bold yet gentle wave,
Where naught repelled the lavish love that gave.
A tender blessing lingers o'er the scene,
Like some young mother's thought, fond, yet serene,
And through its life new-born our lives have been.
Once more farewell,--a sad, a sweet farewell;
And, if I never must behold you more,
In other worlds I will not ce