Those full days must still furnish these.--My walk with Harry was the first of last Monday's pleasures. Roaming over our fields with him, I found myself now in one, now in another European scene; and everywhere, hardly speaking of himself, he set his individual stamp on every object he called up before me. He had seen and felt with his own eyes and heart; and everywhere had been disclosed for him those special sympathies which Nature and the works of genius hold for each separate human soul. Florence will always be dear to me among Italian cities because it was so dear to Harry. He has taught me to love, beside those greatest names in Art familiar to us all from infancy, and which we have chiefly in mind when we long for _Europe_, others less universally cherished, and for which I had before only a vague respect which I should have found it hard to justify. Rome is no longer for me merely the Rome I have read of. With the distant historic interest is now mingled one near and familiar. Harry's favorite spots are already mine. I would walk on the green turf where the altar to Hercules stood, in that oldest time when monuments were raised to benefactors, and not yet to oppressors. I would bring away an ivy-leaf from the ruined heap, the ever "recent" tomb of the young Marcellus. I would gather white daisies on the path along which Saint Agnes was borne to the grave, which was to become a shrine. I cannot, but you will for me. And you will find the little chapel on the Appian Way which marks the place consecrated in popular tradition as that where Peter, escaping, met Christ "going up to Rome to be crucified again," and turned back to meet his martyrdom. You will look up from the Ponte Molle to the beautiful blue Italian sky, where the symbol of suffering appeared as the sign of victory. When you are in Europe, old Europe, do not carry about with you among the monuments of its past all the superiorities of the nineteenth century. Respect the legend. Our age does not produce it, but it is the part of our inheritance we could least do without. Be reverent before the monuments of the early Christian martyrs: they are true shrines. With the people they have not yet lost their sacredness, and have not yet lost their use. Faith in something stronger than violence and nobler than rank is kept alive by the homage paid to the courageous defiers of older usurpations and oppressions. When we came in, we found the Doctor in excellent spirits and in excellent humor. He had not been idle that morning. He had been at work over his pressed flowers, and, owing to the dry weather of the last two days, had had no trouble with them. I proposed to take him, after breakfast, to a piece of marsh land where I thought he might find something to interest him.