1121 Girard Street, November 12, 1864.

…Do not, my dear William, when feeling your strength improved, allow your interest in the Institute to draw you into fresh labour. If you can continue a quiet, unanxious life during the winter, with just so much to occupy thought and body as to give wholesome recreation, you will doubtless continue to improve under the comforts and cheerful influences of your own happy home. I fully enjoy with you the satisfaction you have in once more being there and in getting back to your own beloved country. Is it not indeed a proud privilege to belong to such a land; and now that we have triumphed in the recent great struggle, and are sure to triumph in the other pending in the field, may we not with fuller heart glory in our inheritance? I have never felt such an unmixed, exultant satisfaction on any political occasion as when on Wednesday morning the noisy salutation of the little urchins greeted me with: “Salt River Ticket, sir? Salt River Ticket?” and “Say, Jake, have you got any more Salt River Tickets?” “No, they are gone;” as showing even at that early hour the returns had come in, and that our success was certain and complete.