"For two weeks past we have been stopping with Mr. B. Yesterday we
received four letters--two from my good brother B., and two from
Pennsylvania, yours and Jane's. Right glad were we to receive those
welcome favors--those little _epistolary_ angels, telling us of your
safety, (for safety has of late become quite a consideration) of your
affection, of your anxiety, and a hundred things more than what were
written.

"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_