2–8 September 1839

How tedious is the perpetual self-preservation of the traveller ! His whole road is a comparison of what he sees and does at home with what he sees and does now. Not a blessed moment does he forget himself and, yielding to the new world of facts that environ him, utter without memory that which they say. Could he once abandon himself to the wonder of the landscape, he would cease to find it strange. In New Hampshire the dignity of the landscape made more obvious the meanness of the tavern-haunting men.'