added, “and that I can say of you.”  This was very sweet to me, for I have faults of manner that often annoy him—­I am so vehement, so positive, and lay down the law so!  But I believe the grace of God can cure faults of all sorts, be they deep-seated or external.  And I ought to be one of the best women in the world, if I am good in proportion to the gifts with which I am overwhelmed.  I count it not the least of your and my mercies, that we have been permitted to add four little children to the happy company above.  No wonder you miss your darling boy, but I am sure you would not call him back.  Have you any choice religious verses not in any book, that you would like to put into one I am going to get up?

To the Same, Nov. 12th.

I want you and your mother to know what I am now busy about, hoping it may set you to praying over it.  When I asked you for bits of poetry, I meant pieces gleaned from time to time from newspapers.  My plan was to make a compilation, interspersing verses of my own anonymously.  But Mr. Randolph has convinced me that it is my duty and privilege to have the little book all original, and to appear as mine; and in unexpected ways my will about it has been broken, and I have ceased from all morbid shyness about it, and am only too thankful that God is willing thus to use me for His own glory.  Of course, I shall meet with a good deal of misapprehension and disgust from some quarters, but not from you or yours.  It is a comfort, on the other hand, to think of once more ministering to longing or afflicted souls, as I hope to do in these lines, written for no human eye.  You say Jesus is pained when His dear ones suffer.  I hardly think that can be.  Tender sympathy He no doubt feels, but not pain.  If He did, He would be miserable all the time, the world is so full of misery.

When I look back over my own life, the precious times were generally seasons of great suffering; so much so, that the idea of discipline has become a hobby.  But one can only learn all this by experience.  Mrs. ——­ says she never sings the verse containing “E’en though it be a cross that raiseth me,” and that little children never talk in that way to their mothers, and, therefore, we ought not to talk so to God!  I did not argue with her about it, but I felt thankful that I could sing and say that line very earnestly, and had been taught to do so by the Spirit of God.

To a Friend in Texas, New York, Dec. 1, 1873.

I am glad you like Faber better on a closer acquaintance.  He certainly has said some wonderful things among many weak and foolish ones.  What you quote from him about thanksgiving is very true.  Our gratitude bears no sort of comparison with our petitions or our sighs and groans.  It is contemptible in us to be such thankless beggars.  As to domestic cares, you know Mrs. Stowe has written a beautiful little tract on this subject—­“Earthly Care a Heavenly Discipline.”  God never places