Print (PDF) - On this page / på denna sida - New York, Ninth Street, Thursday, November 15 - Thursday, November 22
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company, burst into one peal of laughter after
another. There was besides so much that was excellent
and really sensible in what she said, and I felt
that there was so much heart in the zealous little
creature, that I could not help liking her, and gave
her the promise she wished for. With her was another
lady, as quiet as she was active, a female professor
of phrenology, who wished to get hold of my head. But
my poor head has now enough to do to hold itself up
in the whirl of society life.
Thursday, November 22. Is there anything in this
world more wearisome, more dismal, more intolerable,
more reckless, more sumptuous, more unbearable,
anything more calculated to kill both soul and
body, than a big dinner in New York? For my part,
I do not believe there is. People sit down to table
at half past five or six o’clock; they are still
sitting there at nine o’clock, and being served
with one course after another, with one rich dish
after another, eating and remaining silent. I have
never experienced such a silence as at these great
dinners. In order not to go asleep, I am obliged to
eat, to eat without being hungry, and dishes, too,
which do not agree with me. And all the while I feel
such an emotion of impatience and wrath at this mode
of wasting time and God’s
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