extent my patron. He would not come to see me, but was hurt if I did not visit him. He would not readily accept a favor, but would gladly confer one. He treated me with ceremony occasionally, though he could be simple and downright sometimes. From time to time he acted a part, treating me as if I were a distinguished stranger, was on stilts, using made words. Our relation was one long tragedy, yet I did not directly speak of it. I do not believe in complaint, nor in explanations. The whole is but too plain, alas, already. We grieve that we do not love each other. I could not bring myself to speak and so recognize an obstacle to our affection.
I had another friend who through a slight obtuseness, perchance, did not recognize a fact which the dignity of friendship would by no means allow me to descend so far as to speak of, and yet the inevitable effect of that ignorance was to hold us apart forever.
March 5, 1858. We read the English poets, we study botany and zoölogy and geology, lean and dry as they are, and it is rare that we get a new suggestion. It is ebb tide with the scientific reports, Professor in the chair. We would fain know something more about these animals and stones and trees around us. We are ready to skin the animals alive to come
