Yet what gossamer these
tasks of mine must appear to your might! Believe that the
American climate is unmanning, or that one American whom you know
is severely taxed by Lilliput labors. The last hot summer
enfeebled me till my young people coaxed me to go with Edward to
the White Hills, and we climbed or were dragged up Agiocochook,
in August, and its sleet and snowy air nerved me again for the
time. But the booksellers, whom I had long ago urged to reprint
Plutarch's _Morals,_ claimed some forgotten promise, and set me
on reading the old patriarch again, and writing a few pages about
him, which no doubt cost me as much time and pottering as it
would cost you to write a History. Then an "Oration" was due to
the New England Society in New York, on the 250th anniversary of
the Plymouth Landing,--as I thought myself familiar with the
story, and holding also some opinions thereupon. But in the
Libraries I found alcoves full of books and documents reckoned
essential; and, at New York, after reading for an hour to the
great assembly out of my massy manuscript, I refused to print a
line until I could revise and complete my papers;--risking, of
course, the nonsense of their newspaper reporters.
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