"Mary, I judge from your letters and notes—from the tone of them—that there are feelings and emotions in your heart utterly beyond the power of words to express. You are resolved, and you are happy in your resolve, and strong in the providential certainty of its success. Yet you tremble for probabilities, or rather for possibilities.
"What feelings, dear Mary, you must have in the hour of your departure from this country. Through the windows of imagination I can catch a glimpse of it all. Your flight is a flight for freedom, and I can almost call you Eliza. To you this land will become a land of memory. And, oh! what memories! But we will talk of this hereafter.
"The remembrance of friendship unbroken here,—oh, Mary, let it not vanish as the blue hills of your father-land will dim away in the distance, while you glide eastward upon the 'free waters.' But let that bright remembrance be embodied in spirit-form, for ever attending you, and pointing back to those still here who hold you high in affection and in honor.
"Mary, I must close. Be firm—strong—brave—unflinching—just like Mary King.
"Yours in the bonds of love,
"John C. Porter."
"Fulton, March 27th, 1853.
"My dear Sister Mary:—
"Almost hourly since you left has your image been before me. And as I seat myself to write, thoughts and emotions innumerable come crowding for utterance. Gladly would I express them to you, dear Sister, but the pen is far too feeble an instrument. Oh, that I could be with you in body as in spirit. You need encouragement and strength in this hour; and I know that you will receive them,—for you are surrounded by a few of the truest and dearest of friends. And you know and have felt, that a higher and stronger power than earth can uphold us in every endeavour for the right.