ne of our Southern birds, which you will not look upon
with indifference, because it is sent to you by one who loves you truly
and gratefully, and who would gladly do anything to afford you one
moment's relief from those sad thoughts which I fear must possess you
wholly.

I had ventured with especial confidence to recommend my friend to your
notice, because she possesses, in no small degree, some of those
qualities which distinguished your excellent and accomplished daughter;
the same talent, applied with profound conscientiousness to the
improvement of the young and poor and ignorant; the same devotion to the
good of all who come within her sphere; the same pervading sense of
religious responsibility.

Dear Lady Dacre, for the sake of those who love you,--for the sake of
him whom you love above all others, your admirable husband,--for the
sake of the darlings your child has left, a precious legacy and trust to
you, do not let this affliction bow down the noble courage of your
nature, but raise yourself even under this heavy burden, that the world
may not by her death lose the good influence of _two_ bright spirits at
once. Do not think me bold and impertinent that _I_ venture thus to
exhort _you_. It is my affection that speaks, and the fear I feel of the
terrible effect this loss may have upon you. Once more, God bless and
support you, and give you that reliance upon Him which is our only
strength in the hours of our earthly sorrows. She whom you mourn is
blest, if ever goodness might secure blessing; and the recollection of
her many virtues must take from her death those contemplations which
alone can make death awful. Farewell, dear friend. My heart yearns
towards you in your grief very tenderly, and I am always

Most affectionately yours,
F. A. B.

BUTLER PLACE, PHILADELPHIA, June 24th, 1839.
DEAREST HARRIET,

I am afraid you will think my Northern residence less propitious to
correspondence than the Georgia plantation, as I am again in your
debt.... But what have I to tell you of myself, or anything belonging to
me? Ever since I returned from New York, whither I went to see Catharine
Sedgwick sail for England, I have been vegetating here, as much as in me
lies to vegetate; but though my life has quite as few incidents as the
existence of the lilies and the roses in the flower-beds, the inward
nature makes another