[Boston—Friday, 14 February 1868]

Feb. 14. Heard the Pastoral Symphony with Longfellow yesterday. It was perfectly played, as if the musicians loved to play together, a young Englishman said who went also with us.

Passed last evening alone at home reading. J. went to the Scientific Club. I never find time enough for that, because although I like this better than other things I feel the consciousness of being a part of this busy world and of wishing not to fail in doing what is set before me.

The days are bright and beautiful! How bright & beautiful they are to me with the happiness of home wrapping me about I can never say. I feel sadly about “Gail” when I think of it, but always somehow more for her than for myself, though I also lose much (for a very little time).

We cannot help anticipating with delight (as if we tried to!) Mr Dickens’ arrival next week. The only drawback is, there is not the same rush to hear him because many of the seats are poor.


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