JST. 32.] TO HARRISON BLAKE. 217
convenience, or a new accident, or, rather, a new perception of the truth that we want !
You say that " the serene hours in which friendship, books, nature, thought, seem alone primary considerations, visit you but faintly." Is not the attitude of expectation somewhat divine ? a sort of home - made divineness ? Does it not compel a kind of sphere-music to attend on it ? And do not its satisfactions merge at length, by insensible degrees, in the enjoyment of the thing expected ?
What if I should forget to write about my not writing ? It is not worth the while to make that a theme. It is as if I had written every day. It is as if I had never written before. I wonder that you think so much about it, for not writing is the most like writing, in my case, of anything I know.
Why will you not relate to me your dream ? That would be to realize it somewhat. You tell me that you dream, but not what you dream. I can guess what comes to pass. So do the frogs dream. Would that I knew what. I have never found out whether they are awake or asleep, whether it is day or night with them.
I am preaching, mind you, to bare walls, that is, to myself ; and if you have chanced to come in and occupy a pew, do not think that my re marks are directed at you particularly, and so
