My very dear Friend,
The Lady of the Interpreter's House:
I am leaving for Bryn Mawr on Thursday, and as usual, when I leave Chicago, I have interests in which I wish to share. I would love to be with you at dinner on Friday and to see the exhibits -- and the friends but as Johnson told us "we can not drink at the source and mouth of the river at once!"
I have read the second chapter of the autobiography. You are mistaken in thinking it not so good as the first. The infantile [page 2] charm caught and held there is indeed unique, but in the second the steadfastness, the withstanding of all clamor which cried out to deflect from the narrower somewhat lonely path, foretells the later habit of <your> life. I recalled in reading it an experience of my own when in time of revival our revered teacher [counseled] me. I wanted to join the converted, <but> as he diagnosed my case I could not. I knew I was not willing to be eternally lost if it were for the glory of God that I should be so. I have been glad since that I was honest enough to see it and say it of myself. Though it was <probably> from fear of the consequences of such temerity as saying [it?] while untrue more than any worthier motive that restrained me.
I am always glad to be one of yours
Mary H. Wilmarth.