rofession, and I
think he misses the stimulus of the daily occupation and nightly
applause.

What a dangerous pursuit that is which weans one from all other
resources and interests, and leaves one dependent upon public exhibition
for the necessary stimulus of one's existence! This aspect of it alone
would make me deprecate that profession for any one I loved; it
interferes with every other study, and breaks the thread of every other
occupation, and produces mental habits which, even if distasteful at
first, gradually become paramount to all others, and, in due time,
inveterate; and besides perpetually stimulating one's personal vanity
and desire for admiration and applause, directs whatever ambition one
has to the least exalted of aims, the production of evanescent effects
and transitory emotions.

I am thankful that I was removed from the stage before its excitement
became necessary to me. That reminds me that, within the last two days,
Pasta has returned to England: they say she is to sing at Drury Lane,
Grisi having possession of the Opera House. Now, will it not be a pity
that she should come in the decline of her fine powers, and subject
herself to comparisons with this young woman, whose voice and beauty and
popularity are all in their full flower? If I knew Pasta, I think I
would go on my knees to beg her not to do it.

I find my sister's voice and singing very much improved, and exceedingly
charming. She speaks always with warm regard of you, and remembers
gratefully your kindness to her.

My dear Mrs. Jameson, it is a great disappointment to me that I cannot
welcome you to my American home, and be to you that pleasant thing, an
old friend in a foreign land. It appears to me that we shall have the
singular ill-luck of passing each other on the sea; at least, if it is
true that you return in the autumn.

Much as I had desired to see my own country again, my visit to it has
had one effect which I certainly had not anticipated, and for which I am
grateful: it has tended to reconcile me to my present situation in life,
comparatively remote as it is from the best refinements of civilization
and all the enjoyments of society.... The turmoil and dissipation of a
London life, amusing as they are for a time, soon pall upon one, and I
already feel, in my diminished relish for them, that I am growing old.

To live in the country in England!--that indeed would be happiness and
pleasure; but we shall never desert Amer