other occasions, but if by chance you could get hold of Professor
J.B. Thayer, who was one of our party, he could no doubt give you
some notes that would be valuable.

Perhaps the latest picture that remains in my mind of our friend is
his wandering along the beaches and under the trees at Naushon, no
doubt carrying home large stealings from my domain there, which lost
none of their value from being transferred to his pages. Next to
his private readings which he gave us there, the most notable
recollection is that of his intense amusement at some comical songs
which our young people used to sing, developing a sense of humor
which a superficial observer would hardly have discovered, but which
you and I know he possessed in a marked degree.

Yours always,

J.M. FORBES.

Professor James B. Thayer's little book, "A Western Journey with Mr.
Emerson," is a very entertaining account of the same trip concerning
which Mr. Forbes wrote the letter just given. Professor Thayer kindly
read many of his notes to me before his account was published, and
allows me to make such use of the book as I see fit. Such liberty must
not be abused, and I will content myself with a few passages in which
Emerson has a part. No extract will interest the reader more than the
following:--

"'How _can_ Mr. Emerson,' said one of the younger members of the
party to me that day, 'be so agreeable, all the time, without
getting tired!' It was the _naive_ expression of what we all had
felt. There was never a more agreeable travelling companion; he was
always accessible, cheerful, sympathetic, considerate, tolerant; and
there was always that same respectful interest in those with whom
he talked, even the humblest, which raised them in their own
estimation. One thing particularly impressed me,--the sense that he
seemed to have of a certain great amplitude of time and leisure. It
was the behavior of one who really _believed_ in an immortal life,
and had adjusted his conduct accordingly; so that, beautiful and
grand as the natural objects were, among which our journey lay, they
were matched by the sweet elevation of character, and the spiritual
charm of our gracious friend. Years afterwards, on that memorable
day of his funeral at Concord, I found that a sentence from his own
Essay on Immortality haunted my mind, and kept repeating itself