It seems quite a long while since I wrote, & a _very long_ while since you wrote. I am beginning to turn my thoughts Philadelphia-wards that we may have some weeks near you before we set out on fresh wanderings across the sea; and though I feel quite cheery about them, I look eagerly forward to the time beyond that when we have a fixed, final nest of our own again, where we can welcome you just when and as you please. Whichever side the Atlantic it is, you will come surely? for you belong to the one country as much as to the other. And I shall always feel that I do too. I take back with me a deep and hearty love for America--I came indeed with a good deal of that, but what I take back is different--stronger, more real. I went over to see friends in Brooklyn yesterday, & it was more lovely than I can tell you on the Ferry--in fact, it was just your poem, "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry". Herby still painting away _con amore_, & making good progress. I met Joaquin Miller at the Bigelows last week, & he was very pleasant (which isn't always the case) and said some very good things to me. Thursday we are going to lunch with Mrs. Albert Brown--perhaps you may have heard of her as Bessie Griffiths. She was a Southern lady who, when she was about 18, freed all her slaves & left herself penniless. On Sunday we take tea at Prof. Rood's of Columbia College. Kate Hillard we often see & have lively chats with. We meet also & see a good deal of General Edward Lee--a fine soldierly looking man, & I believe he distinguished himself in the war & was afterwards sent to organize the new Territory of Wyoming, & was the first governor. I wish very much that if you or your brother knew him or know anything about him, you would tell me--for reasons that I will tell you by & bye. Bee is seeing a great deal of the educated coloured people at Boston--was at the meeting of a literary club--the only white among 20 or 30 coloured ladies--likes them much.
Write soon, dear Friend. Meanwhile, best love & good-bye.
Please give friendly greetings from me to your brother & sister.
We set foot on dry land again Wednesday morning after a good passage--not a very smooth one--and not without four or five days of seasickness, but after that we really enjoyed the sea & the sky--it was mostly cloudy, but such lovely lights and shades & invigorating breezes! and as we got up into northern latitudes, daylight in the sky all night through. The last three days we had glorious scenery--sailed close in under the Giant's Causeway on the north coast of Ireland--great sort of natural ramparts & bastions or rock, wonderfully grand. Then we sailed on Lough Fozle to land a group of Irish folk at Moville--some of them old people who had not seen Ireland for forty years, and who were so happy they did not know what to do with themselves. And what with this human interest, and the first getting near land again and the rich green-and-golden gorse-covered hills & the setting sun streaming along the beautiful lough with golden light, it was a sight & a time I shall never forget. Then we entered the Firth of Clyde & sailed among the islands--mountainous Arran, level Bute--& on the other hand the green hills of Ayr, with pleasant towns nestled under them, sloping to the Clyde--this was during the night--we did not go to bed at all it was so beautiful--& then came a gorgeous sunrise--& then the landing at Greenock & a short railway journey to Glasgow, the tide not serving to bring our big ship up so far. We had very pleasant (& learned withal) companions on the voyage--the Professor of Greek & of Philosophy from Harvard and a young student from Concord, all of whom we have seen since we landed and hope to see often again, especially the young student, Frank Bigelow, who is a very nice fellow. Herby enjoyed the voyage much & so did Giddy. Glasgow is a great, solidly built city, very pleasant [in] spite of smoky atmosphere--full of sturdy, rosy-cheeked people with broad Scotch accent. We have been rushing about shopping--have not yet seen Per.--shall meet him at Durham in a week's time & spend a month together there where he will be superintending your works. Meanwhile we are going to Edinburgh for a few days. I kept thinking of you on the voyage, dear friend, & wondering how you would like it--& whether you could stand being stowed away in the little box-like berth at night. I should recommend any American friend coming over to try this line--we had a fine ship--fine officers & crew--& the latter part, fine scenery. Love to your Brother & Sister & to Mr. Burroughs. Address to me for the present.