[201] one or two others at least. But the long and the short of it is that you will be your best letter yourself. You are quite wild with your anticipations, and it is enough to make anybody else so to read them.And again, Nov. 2:—
And now, my dear friend, my heart goes with you. I could say, Ventorumque regat pater, Obstrictis aliis;1 but the right winds and auspices and influences with my most fervent wishes will certainly follow you in all your wanderings. Write to me soon after you arrive at Paris; and especially and fully from England, where our admiration and affections fully meet. I have commended you very cordially to Ticknor, and I authorize you to draw upon him in my name to an unlimited extent. And now again, Farewell! Vive et Vale! Go, and God speed you! May you live to be an honor and blessing to your friends and society even more than you are now, and more than realize all our fondest wishes and anticipations. And so, Farewell! Always affectionately and faithfully yours.Dr. Channing wrote:—
I need not speak to you of the usual perils of travelling. Local prejudice and illiberal notions are worn off; but there is danger of parting too with what is essentially, immutably good and true.Prof. Andrews Norton, wrote, Nov. 6:—
You are, I trust, about to enjoy much and to learn much in Europe, to lay up for life a treasure of intellectual improvement and agreeable recollections. You carry with you the cordial good wishes of Mrs. Norton and myself. May God bless you, and make your life as honorable and useful as you now purpose it shall be!Samuel Lawrence wrote, Dec. 6:—
And now, my dear friend, let me say you have many, many ardent friends here who are sincerely attached to you, and who will look forward with intense interest to your return home. In the mean time your letters will be looked for with great interest. Mrs. L. begs me to say your note (parting) she received, and will retain near her till we all meet. She regards you as a brother, as does your friend.Judge Story wrote from Cambridge, Dec. 2:—
We miss you exceedingly, for we were accustomed to derive a great deal of comfort from your cheering presence. And already we begin to mourn over you as one lost for the present,—a sort of banished friend, whom we can ill spare at any time, and least of all just now. Depend upon it, the waves of the Atlantic, as they waft you to France and England, will carry our warmest, truest prayers, constant and fervid, for blessings on you. But no more of this, or I shall relapse into sober sadness. . . . I saw Hillard yesterday. He
