Dartmouth College. March 8th, 49Friend Emily,
Your very interesting letter was at length delivered to me by the P.M. and the pleasure I then experienced in reading it determined me to return a speedy answer, but various circumstances have conspired to prevent me fulfilling my intention, so that I find myself at this late hour writing my my friend Emily. And were it not for these selfsame circumstances these imps of fate which continualy [sic] intervene to thwart our plans and blast our brightest prospects, how easily we should glide down the tide of life without the disapointed [sic] hopes and sorrows which mar our present existences. We lay our plans for the future as though we had entered into an alliance with Dame Fortune to favor all our undertakings, but she soon reminds us of our mistake, and some unlooked for accident oerwhelms [sic] our plans till life seems like the idle wind 'which bloweth where it listeth and when it cometh we know not. And we are almost led to exclaim with the Epicurion
The past it is gone let it bury its dead
The present is only for thee to tread
Nor can what the future may unto thee
Life for the present let thy motto be
This would almost seem to be the true philosophy of human life, if we were to take a general view of mankind, but that inward conciousness [sic] of the soul which defies the sophisisms of the atheist, and the scoffs of the infidel, tells us that in time, there is a higher destiny for us to fulfill which is but the prelude to life immortal in eternity.
You see by the date of this letter that I am again within the walls of old Dartmouth after so long an absence. I had nearly given up all hope of returning on account of Fathers illness, but Providence has permitted him to recover so that I could leave him for a while, but I fear that I shall be obliged to return before the close of the term.
A new term has commenced with you and again you are toiling oer [sic] the rugged road of knowledge in pursuit of an education. But with you only one year more intervenes between you and the object of your pursuit, ere you will step forth to demand the honors due to the Diamond polished by the skilful workmanship of the teaches of Mount Holyoke. While to me three long years rear their darling forms ere I am permitted to escape from fostering care of this institution and three more in the study of a profession before I can enter the lists to strive for the prize. And while I thus look the future which is blighted with coming joys or sorrows often think these two lines of yours which I have heard Sis repeat
"O could I scan with eagle eye
The star that guides my testing"But doubtless the future is wisely hiden [sic] from us. The rest of the poem I have never seen and perhaps never shall untill [sic] I read it in a volume of your poems when they are published unless you will be so kind as to send me a copy. Nevertheless I have taken these two lines and written a short piece in reply[.]
You speak of a pasage [sic] in my letter which you did not inderstand [sic] which arises I think from a mishaprehension [sic] of the term imagination. I truly did not mean it as you understood it but I presume that metaphysical reasoning will be uninteresting to you so I will drop it.
Angeline wrote to you by your Father so probably you are informed in regard to the prospects of her returning to South Hadley or rather the prospects of her not returning[.] She brings home a very favorable report of said institution both in respect to teachers and scholars.
First impressions it seems did not last but wore off on better accquaintance. [sic] You told me to tell Mother of the dangerous state of her health but she denies the truth of it and says it is a great deal better than when she went there but Emily, poor girl, is ruining her health by close application to her studies and she is very much afraid that not be able to endure the labors of her situation so I suspect that both have been studing [sic] to [sic] hard for your own benefit[.] I think you had better direct me to deliver your messages by word mouth in future and not send any more notes in the letters as Angy would not let me read it and I was honest enough to let her have it without previously inspecting it myself which I shall not promise to do again. But perhaps you will say that I had better wat [sic] till I achance before I make any boasts[.]
But do not follow my example in waiting so long so long before you answer this as a letter from you is one of those pleasures which do not cause [...] by coming to [sic] often[.]
Yours sincerely
James H. Kidder.