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San Francisco, Cal. August 16th, 1892.

My dear Mrs. Stanford:
Beloved Friend-

Your lovely and welcome letter of
August 1st gave me heartfelt pleasure and real comfort. I am so
glad and grateful, that you are sustained under your severe affliction,
by your blessed Saviour, whom you love and trust, and whose presence
is your abiding strength and joy. I am glad, that in the gracious
Providence of God, you were not present during the last days of
your dear sister's illness. You could have done nothing more than
was done, and it would have worn on your already heavily-burdened
loving heart. I called, last Friday, to see if Mrs. Robertson was well.
She looked so worn at the funeral. She was rested and recuperated,
and was looking very well. All you say in regard to the nearness
of the Beautiful World, to which our loved ones have gone, is true. It
is not a far-off land. It is close at hand. It's breezes fan our
fevered brow, in hours when this world recedes; in times when the
cares of life press heavily. The consciousness of the Life Invisible
grows every day. The proofs of the nearness of the beloved departed
increase. As our communion with God becomes more constant and more
ardent, our communion with those who are gone to be with God, becomes more

San Francisco, Cal. August 16th, 1892.

My dear Mrs. Stanford:
Beloved Friend-

Your lovely and welcome letter of
August 1st gave me heartfelt pleasure and real comfort. I am so
glad and grateful, that you are sustained under your severe affliction,
by your blessed Saviour, whom you love and trust, and whose presence
is your abiding strength and joy. I am glad, that in the gracious
Providence of God, you were not present during the last days of
your dear sister's illness. You could have done nothing more than
was done, and it would have worn on your already heavily-burdened
loving heart. I called, last Friday, to see if Mrs. Robertson was well.
She looked so worn at the funeral. She was rested and recuperated,
and was looking very well. All you say in regard to the nearness
of the beautiful world, to which our loved ones have gone, is true. It
is not a far-off land. It is close at hand. It's breezes fan our
fevered brow, in hours when this world needs; in times when the
cares of life press heavily. The consciousness of the Life Invisible
grows every day. The proofs of the nearness of the beloved departed
increase. As our communion with God becomes more constant and more
ardent, our communion with those who are gone to be with God, becomes more