[Boston—Sunday, 21 February 1864]

Sunday the air is sweet with the first intimations of Spring—how the whole being leaps up to meet them. We talked yesterday at table of dying. Thackeray died suddenly as he wished, so did Irving. Mr Wasson wished it, Mr Clarke wished time. The latter said he thought we usually have our wish. James Otis did. I did not say it but I trust God’s will may be mine yet I do not wish to survive—one hour.

Reading Butler’s life together—great interest.


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