To Mrs. S. B. Shaw.
Wayland, 1862.
I had planned writing to you a few days hence; deferring it for the important reason that I could then write on my birthday, and inform you that I was sixty years old. But there comes along a package from you and Mrs. C--, followed by your letter, and I am so charmed with “John Brent” that I must write “right away,” as the children say. How all-alive the book is!
Glowing and effervescing, like champagne poured out in the sunshine!
I had formed the idea that Mr. Winthrop was an uncommon man; but I had no idea he was so overflowing with genius.
Alas, that such a rich and noble life should have been cut off in its full vigor by the ruthless hand of slavery!
I took a great interest in him because he was a dear friend of yours; but since a portion of his vivacious and beautiful mind has been
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transmitted to me through the pages of his book, I feel as if he were my friend,--as if I had known and loved him. When I was in Boston, last week, I stopped and looked at the advertisement of “John Brent” in the windows of Ticknor & Fields.
I wanted it very much, and was on the point of stepping in and buying it. But I thought of the “contrabands,” and of other claims upon me, still nearer, so far as natural relationship goes, and I said to myself, “No unnecessary expense till the war is over.”
I walked away very well satisfied with my decision; but I was amazing glad to have the book, and I thank Mrs. C- a thousand times.
It is very curious how often it happens so. My wants are few, but when I do want anything very much it is very apt to come to me, from some source, without my expressing the wish to any one.
I wonder whether there is any spiritual magnetism in it?
