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again in this country, at the period when he made his unsuccessful lecture-tour accompanied by Col. Hiram Fuller, Editor of the now defunct New York Evening Mirror, with which I was for a little while connected. I was afraid, then, that he was more than tinctured with flunkyism, and my opinion is that his complete oratorical failures, subjoined to the contempt exhibited for his extreme solicitude to be thought well of had no little share in developing his latent blackguardism and venom of the man. But all this gossip has brought me to the limits of my (borrowed) paper. Neither of you need to be told of how constantly and how reverently I think of you and cherish your true womanly friendship. God bless you. How wonderful the soul is. No noise of guns, no rush of bayonets, no clash of angry steel, can break the bonds that the human heart weaves. And so good-bye: write to me often, a little oftener, even, than if we were in a peaceable camp. And God have you in his holy keeping, Amen. Richard Realf.