University of Virginia Library

I am sorry I wrote
to you about feeling lonely; for from what
I hear, I judge that it troubled your kind
heart. Now I beg leave to inform you that
cheerfulness is my normal condition. I am
too busy doing all sorts of things, to find
much time to be lonely. Then my passion
for cultivating flowers is so intense, and
my interest in the habits of every little
bird and beast is so amusing, that I
seldom lack company.

I happened to be unusually desponding
this Spring, because it brought round the
anniversary of my friend Ellis Gray Loring's
sudden departure; a loss greater to me, in
every way, than any one but myself can
understand. Another link of friendship had

also been rudely shattered, about the time
I wrote to you; and so it happened that
I wrote disconsolately; a thing I very rarely
do. As a general thing, I believe I am thought
to have an unseemly degree of gayety,
considering my venerable years.

Concerning my withdrawal from society,
it had not been a matter of choice, my
dear friend. I am by nature the most
social of the social. But circumstances
sometimes govern the strongest will.
If I were chatting with you, I could
explain in a few minutes. As it is,
you must take my word for it, that
I am social, and love my kind; and
that I trust the way will open for me
to indulge my inclinations, without neglect-
-ing my duties. I am strong of heart, and
feel as if God had some work yet for me
to do in the world.

My principal object in writing to you,
at this time, is to remind you that you

promised to send me your other pamphlet
about Spiritualism. If I knew where to buy
it, or by what name to ask for it, I would
not trouble you. It is a subject that interests
me extremely.

Mr. Garrison spent Sunday here a
fortnight ago. How true and genial he is!
But he is all reformer. In the Art-Temple,
where I worship, he is a stranger.

Do you know Mrs. Darrah, the artist?
She is a very charming person; thoroughly
Anti Slavery, also. She was here last week,
sketching some very pretty ponds in rear of
the house.

This is a dull little town; a real Sleepy
Hollow. To day, I have heard Independence
proclaimed only by two little boys with
penny trumpets, and one boy beating a
tin kettle, to the tune of Yankee Doodle.

Even that celebration seemed to me too
good for such independence as ours.

I wonder what 1860 will bring forth?

I have very little confidence in the
Republican party; but their position is
such that they can not advance their own
interests, without doing some good to our
cause. How I do wish the Southern States
would take themselves off, as they are
always threatening! If we could only
throw off that incubus, then we should
have a republic, as is a republic.
Gabriel, the great trumpeter, might be
proud to celebrate its birth, and the
Four and Twenty Elders think it no
shame to tune their Golden Harps to
Yankee Doodle. God speed the day!

Miss Parmenter told me she
saw you in Worcester, and that you spoke
affectionately of me. Thank you. I always
think affectionately of you.