review of
Heyne's letters on German Literature, which afford excellent
opportunity for some preparatory hints. My plans are so
undecided for several coming months, that I cannot yet tell
whether I shall have the time and tranquillity needed to write
out the whole course, though much tempted by the promise of
perfect liberty. I could engage, however, to furnish at
least two articles on Novalis and Koerner. I trust you will be
interested in my favorite Koerner. Great is my love for both of
them. But I wish to write something which shall not only _be_
free from exaggeration, but which shall _seem_ so, to those
unacquainted with their works.

'I have so much reading to go through with this month, that
I have but few hours for correspondents. I have already
discussed five volumes in German, two in French, three in
English, and not without thought and examination.

'Tell--that I read "Titan" by myself, in the afternoons and
evenings of about three weeks. She need not be afraid to
undertake it. Difficulties of detail may, perhaps, not be
entirely conquered without a master or a good commentary, but
she could enjoy all that is most valuable alone. I should be
very unwilling to read it with a person of narrow or unrefined
mind; for it is a noble work, and fit to raise a reader into
that high serene of thought where pedants cannot enter.'

FAREWELL TO GROTON.

'The place is beautiful, in its way, but its scenery is too
tamely smiling and sleeping. My associations with it are most
painful. There darkened round us the effects of my father's
ill-judged exchange,--ill-judged, so far at least as regarded
himself, mother, and me,--all violently rent from the habits
of our former life, and cast upon toils for which we were
unprepared: there my mother's health was impaired, and mine
destroyed; there my father died; there were undergone the
miserable perplexities of a family that has lost its head;
there I passed through the conflicts needed to give up all
which my heart had for years desired, and to tread a path
for which I had no skill, and no-call, except that it must be
trodden by some one, and I alone was ready. Wachuset and
the Peterboro' hills are blended in my memory with hours of
anguish as great as I am capable of suffering. I used to look
at them towering to