I have enjoyed remarkable cheerfulness and compose: e of mind ever since my confinement; and it is a great comfort to feel assured that I am permitted to die (for a cause) not merely to pay the debt of nature, (as all must.) I feel myself to be most unworthy of so great distinction. The particular manner of dying assigned to me, gives me but very little uneasiness. I wish I had the time and the ability to give you (my dear friend) some little idea of what is daily, and, I might almost say, hourly, passing within my prison walls; and could my friends but witness only a few of those scenes just as they occur, I think they would feel very well reconciled to my being here just what I am, and just as I am. My whole life before had not afforded me one half the opportunity to plead for the right. In this, also, I find much to reconcile me to both my present condition and my immediate prospect. I may be very insane, (and I am so, if insane at all.) But if that be so, insanity is like a very pleasant dream to me. I am not in the least degree conscious of my ravings, of my fears, or of any terrible visions whatever; but fancy myself entirely composed, and that my sleep, in particular, is as sweet as that of a healthy, joyous little infant. I pray God that he will grant me a continuance of the same calm, but delightful, dream, until I come to know of those realities which “eyes have not seen, and which ears have not heard.” I have scarce realized that I am in prison, or in irons, at all. I certainly think I was never more cheerful in my life. I intend to take the liberty of sending, by express, to your care, some trifling articles for those of my family who may be in Ohio, which you can hand to my brother Jeremiah, when you may see him, together with fifteen dollars I have asked him to advance to them. Please excuse me so often troubling you with my letters, or any of my matters. Please also remember me most kindly to Mr. Griswold, and to all others who love their neighbors. I write Jeremiah to your care.
Your friend, in truth, John Brown.
Letter to Mr. Sewall.
Farewell. Your friend, John Brown.