piazza, stretching the whole length of the house, where one can walk in all weathers; and thence by a step or two, on a lawn, with picturesque masses of rocks, shrubs and trees, overlooking the East River.
Gravel paths lead, by several turns, down the steep bank to the water's edge, where round the rocky point a small bay curves, in which boats are lying.
And, owing to the currents, and the set of the tide, the sails glide sidelong, seeming to greet the house as they sweep by. The beauty here, seen by moonlight, is truly transporting.
I enjoy it greatly, and the genius loci receives me as to a home.
Here Margaret remained for a year and more, writing regularly for the Tribune.
And how high an estimate this prolonged and near acquaintance led her to form for its Editor, will appear from a few passages in her letters:—
Mr. Greeley is a man of genuine excellence, honorable, benevolent, and of an uncorrupted disposition.
He is sagacious, and, in his way, of even great abilities.
In modes of life and manner he is a man of the people, and of the American people.
Mr. Greeley is in many ways very interesting for me to know.
He teaches me things, which my own influence on those, who have hitherto approached me, has prevented me from learning.
In our business and friendly relations, we are on terms of solid good-will and mutual respect.
With the exception of my own mother, I think him the most disinterestedly generous person I have ever known.
And later she writes:—
You have heard that the Tribune Office was burned