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Rockland, 1 mo 9th 1869
My Dear Friends, I took with me to meeting, last [4th?] day, the Basket in which you kindly brought the nice little present of crackers and cakes for my dear invalid wife, intending to return it to you after meeting, with many thanks; but I never thought of it till I saw it in my carriage, and then you had gone! I left it with Allan Gilpin, who said he would see that it was forwarded to you, and I trust it has reached home safe. I wonder if Samuel is sensible how much he is favoured to have a wife that knows how to make such very nice cake and crackers, and then puts her knowledge into practice. I was not aware there could be such crackers, of domestic manufacture. Please accept our cordial thanks for your thoughtful kindness.
My dear M. denies her love to you. She was gratified and benefited by your visit, and would be glad to have you to repeat it, when it shall be convenient to you. She has had since you were
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here, the most poorly spell she has experienced for sesveral months past, with something of a chill, and then fever, and other unfavorable indications brought on, the Doctor thought, by exhaustion from overfatigue in riding; but she is now pretty much recovered from the attack, and about up again to the condition in which you saw her While writing, a little poem of Moore's has occurred to me, which I will copy on the next leaf, as one that has always pleased me since I first saw it, now many years ago. If you have already seen it, I have no doubt you will think it worth reading again. If you have not, you will enjoy it still more. With much love to you both, I remain Your Sincere Friend, Benjn Hallowell
Samuel P. and Eliz. Thomas Cherry Grove
"As, down in the sunless retreats of the Ocean, Sweet flowers are springing, not mortals can see; So, deep in my soul the sweet pray'r of Devotion, Unheard by the world, rises, silent, to Thee, My God! Silent, to Thee! Pure, warm, silent, to Thee!
"As, still to the star of its worship, though clouded, The Needle points faithfully, o'er the dim Sea; To, dark as I roam in this wintry world shrouded, The Hope of my Spirit turns, trembling, to Thee, My God! trembling, to Thee! True, fond, trembling, to Thee"
Moore's works, Appletons's Edition, page 301.
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Samuel P. & Elizabeth Thomas Cherry Grove
Benj Hallowell