and you were not obliged to take any
interest in it. You know that our design was to slip rapidly down,
by the back way of Northumberland Sound, to the Bras d'Or, and spend
a week fishing there; and that the greater part of this journey here
imperfectly described is not really ours, but was put upon us by fate
and by the peculiar arrangement of provincial travel.

It would have been easy after our return to have made up from
libraries a most engaging description of the Provinces, mixing it
with historical, legendary, botanical, geographical, and ethnological
information, and seasoning it with adventure from your glowing
imagination. But it seemed to me that it would be a more honest
contribution if our account contained only what we saw, in our rapid
travel; for I have a theory that any addition to the great body of
print, however insignificant it may be, has a value in proportion to
its originality and individuality,--however slight either is,--and
very little value if it is a compilation of the observations of
others. In this case I know how slight the value is; and I can only
hope that as the trip was very entertaining to us, the record of it
may not be wholly unentertaining to those of like tastes.

Of one thing, my dear friend, I am certain: if the readers of this
little journey could have during its persual the companionship that
the writer had when it was made, they would think it altogether
delightful. There is no pleasure comparable to that of going about
the world, in pleasant weather, with a good comrade, if the mind is
distracted neither by care, nor ambition, nor the greed of gain. The
delight there is in seeing things, without any hope of pecuniary
profit from them! We certainly enjoyed that inward peace which the
philosopher associates with the absence of desire for money. For, as
Plato says in the Phaedo, "whence come wars and fightings and
factions? whence but from the body and the lusts of the body? For
wars are occasioned by the love of money." So also are the majority
of the anxieties of life. We left these behind when we went into the
Provinces with no design of acquiring anything there. I hope it may
be my fortune to travel further with you in this fair world, under
similar circumstances.

NOOK FARM, HARTFORD, April 10, 1874.

C. D. W.

BADDECK AND THAT SORT OF THING

"Ay, now I am in Arden: the more fool I; when I was at home,
I was in a better place; but travellers must be