the prettiest parts of the American Berkshire; and upon the whole
(castles, of course, excepted) was rather disappointed in the Rhine,
which is not, I think, as beautiful a river as the Hudson. Knowing the
powerful charm of affectionate association, and the halo which happiness
throws over any place where we attain to something approaching it, I
have sometimes suspected that my admiration of and delight in that Lenox
and Stockbridge scenery was derived in some measure from those sources,
and that the country round them is not in reality as beautiful as it
always appears in my eyes and to my memory. But, comparing it now with
scenery admired by the travelling taste of all Europe, I am satisfied
that the American scenery I am so fond of is intrinsically lovely, and
compares very favorably with everything I have seen hitherto on the
Continent.

As for your friend Anne (my children's American nurse), coming up the
Rhine she sat looking at the shores, her brown eyes growing rounder and
rounder, and her handsome face full of as much good-humored contempt as
it could express, every now and then exclaiming, "Well, to be sure, it's
a pretty river, and it's well enough; but my! they hadn't need to make
such a fuss about it." The fact is, that the noble breadth of the river
forms one of its most striking features to a European, and this, you
know, is no marvel to "us of the new world." Moreover, I suspect Anne
does not consider the baronial castles "of much 'count," either; and, to
confess the truth, I am rather disturbed at the little emotion produced
in me by the romantic ruins and picturesque accompaniments of the Rhine.
But it seems to me that I am losing much of my excitability; my
imagination has become disgracefully tame, and I find myself here, where
I have most desired to be, with a mind chiefly intent upon where, when,
how, and on what my children can dine, and feelings principally occupied
with the fact that I have no one with me to sympathize in any other
thought or emotion if I should attempt to indulge in such.

We arrived at Coblentz one melting summer afternoon, and I walked up to
the top of the fortress alone, and the setting of the sun over beyond
the lands and rivers at my feet, and the uprising of the moon above, the
bristling battlements behind me, filled me with delight; but I had no
one to express it to.

This evening at Ehrenbreitstein, and the cathedral at Cologne, are my
two events hitherto; the only t