I must not add a hair’s-weight—not even the weight of a friendly & solicitous letter—to the sick man’s burdens; so we come to you, Mrs. Clemens & I, to say we are troubled by these newspaper reports; we cannot have him helpless who has been everybody’s help, we cannot have him “weak” who has been everybody’s strength, we cannot have him tottering from mountain to sea, seeking health, who all these years has been health’s own chosen messenger to waiting thousands. Rest?—yes; let him rest, for he has earned it, wasting his impaired forces in untimely night journeys to such as us, that we might live & be strong again: but let it stop with resting; do not tell us he shall not be himself again, ny more— nor that he must withdraw & clothe another in the semblance of his art & skill & send him in his place—for what is Sir Kay in Sir Launcelot’s armor, but only Sir Kay, after all, & not Sir Launcelot?

To my poor mind, the only first of holy callings is the physician’s; & he should walk before Pope, & Cardinal, & all the priestly tribe, for he heals hurts that are real, not imaginary; & his charity is above theirs, for he heals all that fall in his way, not merely the chance sufferer here & there who is willing to say, first, “Good Galilean, I subscribe to the conditions.” And to my mind, first of all the f good physicians is our good physician; & to him I & mine send homage & greeting, & the highest best hopes & the broadest & deepest & warmest good wishes that can be spoken. And the same also to you, if we may.