I�ve omitted to put down last Sunday�s proceedings. It was
a cheery, pleasant day, in which I did a good deal in company
with Parton, a called at Bleecker Street, saw Levison, and
the others, then visited Whitelaw.
15. Monday. Trying to write in the morning. Afternoon
to the Mercantile. Parton there awhile. To Post Office mid-day.
16. Tuesday. Down town, called at Picayune Office, seeing
Haney & Levison, to Battery, saw Creecy, to Fulton Street,
return to room with huge pile of Examiners. Afternoon to Mercantile.
Evening in room, thinking. I�ve another relapse into the wretchedst
despondency, thorough depreciation and distrust of self. I think of
England, of home, my mother, of Chacombe; and then wearily
of this miserable story I�m trying at, with no belief or faith in it.
I feel the most lonely creature in the world; and quitting the Mer-
cantile Library at dusk, as I walk down town-wards through the
chilly, and crowded Broadway my isolation seems the more complete
by force of contrast. There are gaily dressed and handsome women,
young men at theatre doors, and concert rooms, a constant stream of
people setting up town, � I go to my lonely room, where I can�t
write, my inability being increased by my urgent desire to do it.
I have, too, a frightful dread that this life is to continue, that I
am never to win a home, or know the happiness of being loved.
I�m going on for 30; perhaps ��
17. Wednesday. Worse. Down town at mid-day, and in
the afternoon at the Mercantile Library. Waud up & self engrossed.
18. Thursday. Mid-day called in at the Picayune Office,
there finding Haney, Sol Eytinge, the Wauds and Levison.