AL +5719.4/857 June 27. Sift of: Henry G. Denny of Boston. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1839, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. BOSTON. PRINTED BY I. R. BUTTS. I HAD fallen into a moping way, and had many ailments of that bad kind to which physicians can give no name. The medical man who attended me, had given tonics, and, for aught I know, bread pills. Life had become a burden to me and the world almost joyless. I could do nothing, even the commonest thing, without an effort every-day conversation with intimate friends was a weariness. In truth I had no object in life. One day my patient and long suffering physician, after the usual inquiries, took a slip of paper from his pocket, wrote on it, handed it to my housekeeper and departed. "I don't believe the apothecary keeps it," said she endeavouring to read. "Get a horse" - I took it from her: it ran thus: "Get a good horse, get upon his back, ride to Pebblebrook and visit your friends: see what is before you, listen to whatever speaks, speak to every thing that can hear look not always downward; look upward toward the sky." I was angry; rose hastily and walked to the open window. The doctor was upon his horse he bowed, smiled benevolently, waved his hand, and rode away. It was a beautiful spring morning: a bird sang sweetly in a tree near the house. I looked at the tree, then at the paved street and brick buildings: 1 listened to the song of the bird, and then to the rattling of carriages and trucks. He may be right, I said thoughtfully one may as well die on horseback as in an armchair. - I gave directions to forward my trunk to Pebblebrook by the stage coach, and rode that afternoon ten miles on my way. In the parlor of the little inn, where 1 stopped to pass the night, a man of middle age was writing at a small table. He looked up when I entered, remarked that the evening was pleasant, and continued to write. I was about to leave the room when he, looking up again, said: "you don't disturb me at all, sir indeed I have done." He folded his letter, superscribed it, and calling the landlord asked him to send it to the post office. "There," said he turning to me, "that will make some half dozen human beings happy." I was struck and pleased with the man's frank bearing, and said, smiling: "How do you know that?" "How do I know it?" returned he in yankee fashion, Why, I believe it, and in belief there is much that makes itself true. When my wife gets that letter there'll be a noisy time. Bob and Will and Kate will shout: a letter from father! a letter from father! Then there 'll be a few minutes silence while she reads aloud, and noise enough after |