SAME.
“Rochester, May 23, 1852.
“Dear Friend Leah:
“So you have really broken your long and persevering silence! I am obliged to you for the letter, which was received last evening, and especially for the postscript added thereunto. You know it is said that a woman’s letter is never finished without a P. S.; but it is seldom so generous in its dimensions, or so full of sentiment, as to outweigh that to which it is appended.
“What a dishonest world this is! Your letter is half cheerful, half sad; and I, who know your life about as well as any one, do not wonder that it should be so. I am thankful, Leah, that the Recording Angel always tells a straight story upon the pages of his manuscript; thankful for myself, for you, and for others, that we are not to be judged in that Court whose sentence is final upon ex-parte evidence. Had my lot in early life been cast as yours was, I do not think I should be as good as you are, or even as happy.
“And this task which the Spirits have imposed upon you of late years, is anything but a light one. It has its brighter side, as I well know, its lightening influences; and were this not the case, no one, not even yourself, could endure the wear constant and severe, upon the mind, for a single year. I can only advise you (just here), as I often have, to devote sufficient time to rest; and do not rob yourself of that which nature demands, and which she will have or impose a penalty.
“I am glad to know that you find friends, whom you do so much prize, among your lady visitors. You and I agree in one thing at least, that a true and noble-souled woman is worth a thousand of the average standard; and it is something to be able to appreciate and love such a character. Do you not think so?
“Isaac and Amy received your letter to them to-day and sent it to me to read.
“Your friend,
“J. E. R.”