But I forget that you think more of this human nature than of this nature I praise. Why won't you believe that mine is more human than any single man or woman can be? that in it,—in the sunset there, are all the qualities that can adorn a household,—and that sometimes in a fluttering leaf, one may hear all your Christianity preached.
You see how unskilful a letter-writer I am, thus to have come to the end of my sheet, when hardly arrived at the beginning of my story. I was going to be soberer, I assure you, but now have only room to add,—that if the fates allot you a serene hour, don't fail to communicate some of its serenity to your friend,
No, no. Improve so rare a gift for yourself, and send me of your leisure.
TO MRS. L. C. B.
Dear Friend:—
Your note came wafted to my hand, like the first leaf of the Fall on the September wind, and I put only another interpretation upon its lines,
