and save us from near neighbours we may not like. Am I not calculating, Susan? But is it not better to calculate beforehand than to grumble afterward? I am sure I am right, so far as I can, to secure independence to your father and Charlotte; and if, after all, they must take something from us, those who are so generous in giving will be also generous in receiving, and they will not grudge us the best part, it being more blessed to give than to receive.
"There is one thing I can scarcely bear the thoughts of—taking you all from that pleasant little spot in Essex, where you have riches for the eye that all the money in New-York cannot buy in the city—plenty of sweet air and pure water;[1] and your garden, and your little courtyard, with its rose-bushes, morning-glories, pionies, and marvels of Peru. But, after all, dear Susan, there are feelings worth giving up the very best of outward things for; and if we secure auction, and kindness, and so forth, we sha'n't have made a bad bargain of it, shall we? We may be what the world calls poor, and miscals, in my estimation. Let us begin, in the fear and love of God, with a determination to do our duty—rich in love for one another, and at peace with all men; and if worst comes to worst, why, that will be outside poverty. I do not fear it, do you? Answer this without fail by return of post. Much duty and love to your
- ↑ Has any one ever calculated the amount of wealth and comfort to be produced to the labouring classes by the introduction of pure water into the city of New-York? Health and cleanliness are sources of wealth, and of comfort inappreciable.
