Your letter came the other day, & with the enclosure was very welcome.1 The papers came also. I am glad you keep well. I wish for you here daily, it is so cool & salubrious. I imagined you off to some of the watering places. I was sorry I could not bring about the arrangement to have you come up to our place, but Emma has not been very well, & though
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she said yes, I thought she was a little reluctant, and our own household economy was deranged by the cuttings up & running off of the girl. But I shall not rest till I have you up there.
I was much interested in the letters you enclosed. I must write to the Gilchrists.
I made the trip down the Delaware the last of June, all alone; went only to Hancock on the Erie Road, about 50 miles. Had a pretty good time, tho' lonely. I was not quite a week on the river. I slept in my boat or under it all the time. The next week after I returned home I wrote up my trip
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for the magazine, using the health & strength I gained on the voyage. Since I have been here I have written an article on Nature & the Poets, showing when our poets trip on their wood lore & natural history, & where they hit the mark. I catch them all napping. Emerson, Bryant, Whittier, Longfellow, &c. I shall have something to say about you, with extracts, but I cannot catch you in any mistake, as I wish I could, for that is my game. I wish I could also find a slip in Shakspeare, or Tennyson, but I cannot according to my knowledge except where Shakspear follows the unscientific thought of his times, as in his treatment of the honey bee.
Yesterday I wrote a sort
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of Pastoral Letter to The Tribune, but I doubt if they find it worth while, & it is no matter.
I will send you the proof of the article on the poets, before it goes into the magazine.
There are two articles in the August Appleton's Journal that are worth glancing over, Arnold on Wordsworth & Earl D. on Moose Hunting.2 What simple good hearty fellows those English earls must be; not a false or conventional note in this one.
The baby is doing well & completely fills my heart. Wife is about as usual.
I find I cannot read Whittier3 & Longfellow4 & Lowell5 with any satisfaction. Your poems spoil me for any but the greatest. Coming from them to you is like coming from a hothouse to the shore or the mountain. I know this is so & is no pre-determined partiality of mine.
Faithfully John Burroughs