shelter. If they were too often a moving cloud of smoke
to me by day, yet they were always a pillar of fire throughout the
night, during my wanderings through the wilderness of doubt, and enabled
me to skirt, without crossing, the sandy desert of utter unbelief."

[14] See her translation of the hymn in _Golden Hours_, p. 123. The
original will be found in appendix C, p. 540.

[15] I in them and Thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one.--V.
23.

[16] There should be no greater comfort to Christian persons, than to be
made like unto Christ, by suffering patiently adversities, troubles, and
sicknesses. For He himself went not up to joy, but first He suffered
pain; He entered not into His glory, before He was crucified. So truly
our way to eternal joy is to suffer here with Christ.--(The Book of
Common Prayer.)

[17] Ascribed to St. Patrick, on the occasion of his appearing before
King Laoghaire.

CHAPTER XIV.

WORK AND PLAY.

1875-1877.

I.

A Bible-reading in New York. Her Painting. "Grace for Grace." Death of
a young Friend. The Summer at Dorset. Bible-readings there. Encompassed
with Kindred. Typhoid Fever in the House. Watching and Waiting. The
Return to Town. A Day of Family Rejoicing. Life a "Battle-field."

Her time and thoughts during 1875 were mostly taken up by her Bible-
readings, her painting, the society of kinsfolk from the East and the
West, getting her eldest son ready for college, and by the dangerous
illness of her youngest daughter. Some extracts from the few letters
belonging to this year will give the main incidents of its history.

_To a young Friend, Jan. 13, 1875._

I have had two Bible-readings, and they bid fair to be more like those
of last winter than I had dared to hope. There are earnest, thoughtful,
praying souls present, who help me in conducting the meeting, and you
would be astonished to see how much better I can do when not under the
keen embarrassment of delivering a lecture, as at Dorset.... I have a
young friend about your age who is dying of consumption, and it is
very delightful to see how happy she is. She used to attend the
Bible-readings last winter.

About the painting? Well, I have dug away, and Mrs. Beers painted
out and painted in, till I have got a beautiful great picture almost
entirely done by her. Then I undertook the old fence with the clematis
on it here at home, and made a _horrid_ daub. She painted most of that
out, and is having me d