that direction with Charles Coolidge, Esq., and the year 1828.

There is little prospect from the house. Directly opposite a low bluff
overhangs the Boston road and obstructs the view. Upon the other sides
the level land stretches away. Towards Lexington it is a broad,
half-marshy region, and between the brook behind and the river good
farms lie upon the outskirts of the town. Pilgrims drawn to Concord by
the desire of conversing with the man whose written or spoken eloquence
has so profoundly charmed them, and who have placed him in some pavilion
of fancy, some peculiar residence, find him in no porch of philosophy
nor academic grove, but in a plain white house by the wayside, ready to
entertain every comer as an ambassador from some remote Cathay of
speculation whence the stars are more nearly seen. But the familiar
reader of our author will not be surprised to find the "walking
eye-ball" simply sheltered, and the "endless experimenter with no past
at my back" housed without ornament. Such a reader will have felt the
Spartan severity of this intellect, and have noticed that the realm of
this imagination is rather sculpturesque than pictorial, more Greek
than Italian. Therefore he will be pleased to alight at the little
gate, and hear the breezy welcome of the pines and the no less cordial
salutation of their owner. For if the visitor knows what he is about,
he has come to this plain for bracing mountain air. These serious
Concord reaches are no vale of Cashmere. Where Plato Skimpole is
architect of the summer-house, you may imagine what is to be expected
in the mansion itself. It is always morning within those doors. If you
have nothing to say, if you are really not an envoy from some kingdom
or colony of thought and cannot cast a gem upon the heaped pile, you
had better pass by upon the other side. For it is the peculiarity of
Emerson's mind to be always on the alert. He eats no lotus, but
for-ever quaffs the waters which engender immortal thirst.