"I have received your note of a recent date, and am obliged to you for it, as I always am for a letter from you. But, what is the matter with you? your letter is deeply tinged with sadness, and reads very much as I feel sometimes, though from a different cause from any which appeared in yours. "You have, or had just then, a November mood on, and here it is October, and a clear and bright sky; and although it be autumn, it is one of no common beauty. What has crossed your path? Are you not blessed with friends good and true? such as you used to tell me of? and if your health is passingly good, what is there standing between you and your share of happiness? I suppose I might give answers to these questions by looking in upon my own life record: for a human is a human, and we are all of a piece in most things. But your letter leads me to these questions, and so my pen has asked them. You do not say a word about Spirits, or what _they_ and _you_ are doing, leaving me to guess everything which I would know about those things. "You recollect Frederica Bremer paid you a visit on Troup Street when she was in this country. Her manner and remarks, as you related them to me, I remember in a general way, particularly as she was, on account of her eminent literary character, a marked personage; and I was somewhat surprised this evening, when I read an extract from her recent book of travels in America, in which she gives an account of her interview with yourself and sisters. It is evident that she was false to you, or else she is _false to the public_ who now read her work. I mention this as a passing matter of but little consequence in itself, disconnected with other considerations, but which are inseparable therefrom. "She is, through her writings, the familiar and admired companion in countless homes here and elsewhere; and her opinions pass as of more value than those of most persons. I regret exceedingly that, for some cause, she has said either more or less than what seems to her the truth. In the long run it will make no difference to truth itself, but I do so hate to see one, whom I consider a noble spirit, swerve a hair's breadth from the path of honor, merely to minister to the current opinions of a world that it should be too proud to bow to. It is but another instance, another illustration of the truth of what I have often said to you and our friend George Willets, that there never has been anything which so severely tried the integrity of men and women as does this Spiritualism. "_The Rochester Union_ tells us you have quietly settled down in a place called Harmony, Chautauqua Co. No other paper has the news. "Yours, "J. E. R." GOVERNOR N. P. TALLMADGE. "FOND DU LAC, WIS., March 27, 1857. "DEAR MRS. BROWN: