And yet, under our east winds of reserve, there hides an obscure courtesy in the best natures, which neither temperament nor breeding can spoil. Sometimes manners the most distant are friendly foils for holding eager dispositions subject to the measure of right behavior. ’Tis not every New Englander that dares venture upon the frankness, the plain speaking, commended by the Greek poet. “Caress me not with words, while far away Thy heart is absent, and thy feelings stray; But if thou love me with a faithful breast, Be that pure love with zeal sincere exprest; And if thou hate, the bold aversion show With open face avowed, and known my foe.” Fortunate the visitor who is admitted of a morning for the high discourse, or permitted to join the poet in his afternoon walks to Walden, the Cliffs, or elsewhere,—hours likely to be remembered, as unlike any others in his calendar of experiences. I may say, for me they have made ideas possible, by hospitalities given to a fellowship so enjoyable. Shall I describe them as sallies oftenest into the cloud-lands, into scenes and intimacies ever new? none the less novel nor remote than when first experienced; colloquies, in favored moments, on themes, perchance “Of fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute;” nor yet “In wand’ring mazes lost,” as in Milton’s page; But pathways plain through starry alcoves high, Or thence descending to the level plains. Interviews, however, bringing their trail of perplexing thoughts, costing some days’ duties, several nights’ sleep oftentimes, to restore one to his place and poise for customary employment; half a dozen annually being full as many as the stoutest heads may well undertake without detriment. Certainly safer not to venture without the sure credentials, unless one will have his pretensions pricked, his conceits reduced in their vague dimensions. “Fools have no means to meet But by their feet.”