uld include features wholly omitted by her;
features radiant with a light and beauty not of earth. It would reflect
a sweet patience, a heroic fortitude, a tender sympathy, a faith in God
and an upholding, comforting influence, which in sharp exigencies the
Christian wife and mother knows so well how to exercise, and which are
inspired only by the Lord Jesus Himself.

The friend to whom the following letter was addressed years ago passed
away from earth. But her name is still enshrined in many hearts. The
story of her generous and affectionate kindness, as also that of her
children, would fill a whole chapter. "You will never know how we have
loved and honored you all, _straight through_" wrote Mrs. Prentiss to
one of them, many years later.

_To Mrs. Charles W. Woolsey, Havre, July 11, 1858._

How many times during our voyage we had occasion to think of and thank
you and yours, a dozen sheets like this would fail to tell you. Of all
your kind arrangements for our comfort not one failed of its object.
Whether the chair or my sacque had most admirers I do not know, but
I can't imagine how people ever get across the ocean without such
consolations on the way. As to the grapes they kept perfectly to
the last day and proved delicious; the box then became a convenient
receptacle for the children's toys; while the cake-box has turned into
a medicine-chest. We had not so pleasant a voyage as is usual at this
season, it being cold and rainy and foggy much of the time. However,
none of us suffered much from sea-sickness--Mr. Prentiss not in the
least; his chief discomfort was from want of sleep. On the whole, we had
a less dreary time than we anticipated, and perhaps the stupidity in
which we were engulfed for two weeks was a wholesome refuge from the
excitement of the month previous to our departure. We landed in a
deluge of rain, and the only article in our possession that alarmed the
officers of the Custom House was _not_ the sewing-machine, which was
hardly vouchsafed a look, but your cake-box. We were thankful to tumble
pell-mell into a carriage, and soon to find ourselves in a comfortable
room, before a blazing fire. We go round with a phrase-book and talk
out of it, so if anybody ever asks you what sort of people the Prentiss
family are and what are our conversational powers, you may safely and
veraciously answer, "They talk like a book." M. already asks the French
names of almost everything and is very glad to know tha