University of Virginia Library

It would be uninteresting to recount the
manifold little hindrances, which have delayed my an-
-swer to your refreshing and most welcome letter. Suffice
it to say, that it has not been because I do not always
carry the memory of you in my heart. You are one of
the few whom I want to go into heaven with, and stay
near forever. Your letter exhilerated me like a
shower-bath. It made me feel more cheerful and strong
for weeks after. I am glad my letter about Ole Bulbul
found such an echo in your soul. It is a proof to me that
I struck a chord in the "everlasting chime". If I did
say "the very best thing that was ever said about music",
it must have been Ole Bulbul's violin that told it
to me. You, unfortunately, know so much,
that this Shakespeare of the violin may not delight you
as he did me. I have known nothing like it, in my ex-
-perience of pleasure. Perhaps none but the ignorant
could feel such a rush of uncriticising, overwhelming
joy. Connoisseurs give the palm to Vieux Temps; but
I persist in my belief that France made him, and
Mr. Child is still at Washington, or he would send a heart full of kind remembrance.

God made Ole Bull. I have certain theories about the
nations, which makes it difficult for me to believe that
France ever goes very deeply into the heart of things,
though her mechanism of all the external of man and
of society is most perfect. The application of this theory
may, of course, be very unjust to individuals. Shall I
confess my weakness ? I am not quite willing to be con-
-vinced that the genius of the French minstrel equals
that of the Norwegian. I can not explain exactly why;
except that my imagination has anointed and crowned
Ole Bull king of the realms of sound, and is willing to
admit no rival.

So long as I am presumptuous enough to give any opinion
at all about music, I will, with becoming diffidence, just
whisper in your ear, certain feelings (I can not call them
thoughts) which I had while listening to the opera of
Il Puritani. I was continually troubled with the in-
-congruity between the subject and the music. The
drama came in obtrusively between me and the spirit of the composer.
It plagued me, and I wanted it out of the way. To me
the music spoke of the struggles and aspirations of a
human soul. Its first youthful adoration of Nature,
going up in worshipful chorus, like birds saluting the
morning; the restless seeking after its other half, in wild
sweet strains through shady groves; its fluttering love,

its pleading earnestness, its undefined fears, its sudden
joys, its passionate clinging to the sweet ideal — the
tearing asunder — the deep sorrow — the agonized
supplication — and at last, the triumphant joy!
the dawning of a better life!

What has Cromwell's army to do with this? I
shut my eyes to get rid of the incongruity, but I could
not; it would come between my soul and Bellini. It
may seem presumptuous for me to say so; but I don't
believe it had any business there; any more than the
sulphur-breathing dragon of Calvinism would have in
a world of beauty and order. Will you tell me what
you think of this?

I am very much
obliged to you for
your address on association. On this subject, I have strong
faith in principles, and a troublesome distrust of men.
If I could find a hand as clear-sighted, yet as mystical,
as reverential, yet as democratic, as ideal, yet as actual,
as Parke Godwin, I should be drawn into a phalanx
by irresistable attraction; as it is, I am in some danger;
but experience bids me be very cautious, to avoid the
blinding excitement of conventions and meetings, and
examine the subject in stillness. I have seldom held
communion with a mind, which kindled my own, like
Parke Godwin's. He is one of those minds which draw

their lines from a centre; and however widely he
may diverge, one knows where to expect the return of
the curve. This not the case with William Channing.
He goes off into infinite space, and is lost among rainbows.

I was sorry I did not see Mr. Ripley when he was here.
I was obliged to be absent most of the time on Long Island,
establishing Friend Hopper's youngest daughter in school, or
I should have sought him out. I feel a most affectionate
respect for him, and great sympathy with his advance-
-guard in the settlement of social freedom. Remember me
most respectfully to Mrs. Ripley, and most kindly to Mr.
Dana.

My adopted son, John Hopper, desires a most cordial remem-
-brance to you. He fell in love with you at sight, and
never speaks of you without great satisfaction.