discontent about
them, or may like to plan for myself in ways different from God's plans.
Yet in the midst of so much care and fatigue I hardly know how I
do feel; I am like a feather blown here and there by an unexpected
whirlwind and I suppose I ought not to expect much of myself. "Though He
slay me yet will I trust in Him," I keep saying over and over to myself,
and if you are going to write a new sermon this week, suppose you take
that for your text. I have not had one regret that you went to Paris,
and as to your coming on, I do hope you will not think of it, unless
you are sent for. You could do nothing and would be very lonely and
uncomfortable. The doctor told me to tell you to stay where you were,
and that you ought to rejoice that the children are not sick in Paris.
I do trust that in the end we shall come forth from this troublous time
like gold from the furnace. So far I have been able to do all that was
necessary and I trust I shall continue so. God bless you, and bring us
to a happy meeting in His own good time!

_To Mrs. Stearns, Genevrier, Jan. 21, 1860._

... Boiling over does one good of itself, and I am sure you feel the
better for having done so. I do not know why _men_ seem to get along
without such reliefs as women almost always seek in this way; whether
there is less water in their kettles or whether their kettles are bigger
than ours and boil with more safety. It is a comfort to believe that,
whatever our troubles, in the end all will work together for our good.
The new year has opened upon us here at Genevrier pretty gloomily, as
George has told you. You will not be surprised, therefore, to hear that
M. is also quite sick, much sicker than G. She is one of those meek,
precious little darlings whom it is painful to see suffer, and I have
hardly known what I was about, or where I was, since she was taken down.
My baby is deserted by us all; I have only seen him in _moments_ for
three weeks. You can not think how lonely poor A. is; half the time she
eats alone in the big solitary dining-room; nobody has any time to walk
out with her, what few children she knew are afraid to come here or to
have her come nigh them, and I feel as if I should fly, when I think of
it--for she is not strong or well and her life here in Switzerland has
been a series of disappointments and anxieties. The only leisure moments
I can snatch in the course of the twenty-four hours I have to spend in
writing to George; but th