As for the letter itself , it brought me an uplift of hope and inspiration such as I would not have believed possible an hour earlier . It rang so truly and sincerely , and the mere thought that somewhere I had a friend who cared enough to write it , even in such odd fashion , was so sweet that I was half ashamed of the difference it made in my outlook . Sitting there , I took courage and made a compact with myself that I would justify the writer 's faith in me -- that I would take up my life as something to be worthily lived for all good , to the disregard of my own selfish sorrow and shrinking . I would seek for something to do -- for interests which would bind me to my fellow-creatures -- for tasks which would lessen the pains and perils of humankind . An hour before , this would not have seemed to me possible ; now it seemed the right and natural thing to do . A week later another letter came . I welcomed it with an eagerness which I feared was almost childish . It was a much longer letter than the first and was written in quite a different strain . There was no apology for or explanation of the motive for writing . It was as if the letter were merely one of a permitted and established correspondence between old friends . It began with a witty , sparkling review of a new book the writer had just read , and passed from this to crisp comments on the great events , political , scientific , artistic , of the day . The whole letter was pungent , interesting , delightful -- an impersonal essay on a dozen vital topics of life and thought . Only at the end was a personal note struck . `` Are you interested in these things ? '' ran the last paragraph . `` In what is being done and suffered and attained in the great busy world ? I think you must be -- for I have seen you and read what is written in your face . I believe you care for these things as I do -- that your being thrills to the ` still , sad music of humanity ' -- that the songs of the poets I love find an echo in your spirit and the aspirations of all struggling souls a sympathy in your heart . Believing this , I have written freely to you , taking a keen pleasure in thus revealing my thoughts and visions to one who will understand . For I too am friendless , in the sense of one standing alone , shut out from the sweet , intimate communion of feeling and opinion that may be held with the heart 's friends .
Shall you have read this XXXXX a friend , I wonder -- a candid , uncritical , understanding friend ?
For In as from of on than that to with