Edwin spends Sunday evening in a familiar way, letter writing.
Acton September 16, 1866 Sunday Evening
My Dear Friend
At the close of this pleasant day I will fulfill my promise and answer your promised letter which was received last evening. It gave me pleasure to learn that your cold was some better and the remedy though a very pleasant one to take I should not consider a very safe one to recommend for such troubles. I do hope that you will take care and rid yourself of yours for it causes me not a little anxiety as I know full well the result if not attended to in season.This is surely a reference to the death of his wife. The three year anniversary was the previous day.
I have thought of you many times today and will now attempt to put a few of my thoughts on paper so that you may have the pleasure of reading them for I am aware by happy experience that it is a pleasure to read letters from those we love, and from your disposal of the fine picture I have in front of me I feel assured that this will be received with pleasure and I know that I enjoy writing to you. . . I have enjoyed the day very much and trust that you have felt able to attend church and enjoy the day also. Perhaps you will feel interested to know how I spent the day.
I took breakfast at mother's and after doing the necessary work of one keeping bachelor's hall, and making the bouquet for the church, I went to the rehearsal of the choir before service, at noon attended the Sabbath School, took dinner at home alone making my own tea, my brother's family not coming up, having the minister to provide for at home. Took tea at mother's after which I walked down to the cemetery alone and meeting a friend there rode home with him who attended the third service with me at 6 o'clock after which he called in with brother Smith and made quite a stop. After they left I made a short call on my brother having my usual weekly bundle to carry down to be returned improved. So you will see that I have not been entirely idle today though I have not had so much time to read as I would like. You will pardon me for giving you so full particulars and I will not do so again.
Our minister exchanged with the Westford minister today and I think the Westford people had the best end of the bargain. He was altogether too long winded to suit my fancy though his subject was a good one - "the beauties of our religion." I think short sermons are almost without exception the most useful.
After leaving you I had a very pleasant ride home finding my brother at the station looking for me. And I did not regret being left by the other train as the time passed Very pleasantly and I do not wish to have you think that it was a fault of yours, if one, but of the horse cars which did not come along in season. We had quite a frost this morning in some places but did not visit my garden. Being on the hill I usually escape the first frost. I find a fire quite comfortable this evening and if I had not said it before should say that it would be much pleasanter if you could come in and share it with me.
I wrote to Mr. Black last evening and ordered a dozen photographs for mother.
Brother Quincy goes into camp tomorrow with the company at Andover.
And now dear Susan I must bid you good night as it is getting late and perhaps I have written enough for this time and hoping to hear favorable news from you soon I remain as ever your affectionate
Edwin
P.S. If I do not write plain enough for you to read please inform me and I will try to do better.
Edwin had a good reason to ask this question! While Susan Smith's penmanship was impeccable, Edwin's writing leaves something to be desired! She used an ink pen, he a pencil. She wrote on new stationery, his letters were mostly on scrap paper. While his grammar and spelling were equal to hers, he often used all of his paper, including the margins! Furthermore, he had an annoying habit. After he filled a page completely, he would turn the paper ninety degrees and continue writing over his initial script! At first glance, this appeared indecipherable, but as your eyes focused, you could read it, if you looked carefully.
Susan too, is spending this Sunday, putting her pen to paper. Her carefully chosen words lead us to believe she may be aware of the importance of the recent date to Edwin.
Danversport Sept. 16th Sabbath evening.
My dear Friend.
All have gone to meeting, excepting father & myself, & sitting around the fire this cool evening led me to think that perhaps you might be doing the same thing, only you might be all alone; & I thought I would write to you. It is not necessary to say that it would be pleasant to have you sit this evening by our fire. I presume you received my letter last evening & perhaps you may be engaged as I am now, in writing. Today I had the pleasure of hearing my own dear pastor Mr. Southgate of Ipswich. I can assure I enjoyed it very much.
The sermon this afternoon from these words "Seeing him who is invisible," was very excellent. He said it was not so much our hold on Christ as his hold on us that kept us in the right way, & showed so plainly the happy effect on our lives if we were only continually seeing him who is invisible.
One thing that often troubles me is, that too many times the motive which prompts the action is not a pure one; some selfishness or wicked pride will work its way in & render it exceedingly sinful in the sight of a holy God. Life seems like a continual sinning & repenting & too often I fear, more of the former than the latter. When I think of my own short life I am led to wonder that God should so long spare "a tree so unfruitful."
But there is one thought which I always enjoy so much, and it is, that it is not too late now, to begin a new life with Christ. Whatever may have been our shortcomings & coldness in the past, repenting now, we may be accepted in Him.
I suppose you have attended church all day & I hope you have had as good preaching as we have had.
I do not wonder that you should have such feelings as you expressed in your last letter, concerning your home; I have lived long enough to learn that there is no place like home (home in its true sense, I mean) but how is that place changed when death makes its inroads upon it?
Tuesday P.M. Lynn.
On going down to dinner this noon, I was happy to find your letter; I should have been very much disappointed if it had not been waiting my arrival. I was glad to hear that you did not have to walk from South Acton, but found someone waiting for you. From your letter I see that I was not wrong in thinking of you as writing, on Sabbath evening, perhaps it might have been at the same hour when I was writing the first of this letter.
I thank you for your interest for my health. I am trying to be free from this cold which I have entertained quite as long as such as visitor is welcome. I think there is no need for anxiety concerning it.
School went well today & this hour finds me alone in my room, & the clouds which have been quite thick today, breaking away & letting the sunlight fall upon the page as I write. Tomorrow I am invited to dine & spend the afternoon with Miss Hilliker at Gravesend; the visit which I postponed the day you met quite unexpectedly at the school house. I will postpone it a second time if a similar occasion should require it. I am glad the frost spared your garden & trust it will not spoil all the flowers yet.
You also have my thanks for the proffer of the "seat by your fireside." Perhaps some evening I will accept it. But, dear friend, I do not know as I can express to you the many thoughts which come to my mind with the prospect of leaving the work in which I have been so long engaged & assuming cares & responsibilities to which I am almost a stranger.
You, of course, know how little experience I have had in all that is needed to make home a happy one. Did I not feel that I should find in you one who will be patient with the erring; who will not expect perfection from imperfection; who has sympathy for those who may find difficulties to overcome, I should never feel willing to make the exchange. But I am filling my letter & will you pardon me if I have ·spoken too freely; but I have sometimes felt that I restrained you from speaking as you wished by my silence.
Mr. Hills wishes to be remembered to you, & wishes he had the opportunity of becoming more acquainted with you. When may I hope to get a letter from you? I will look for one on Thursday. Shall I get one? May I have one then? And now it is five o'clock & I must study my Latin before tea.
PS: I never have been troubled in deciphering any of your letters - S
The last paragraphs of this letter offer thoughts far more candid than anything written to date, by either party. We can only imagine how carefully Susan must have considered her words. Her confession that her silence might have been misinterpreted is a brave step forward on her part. It's easy to assume the two might have had serious conversation on the many occasions when they met, but perhaps not. Maybe these ice-breaking comments by Susan Smith are the first direct mention of the subject that is at the forefront of everyone's mind.
How will Edwin respond?