trees, and that I could know from your own lips just how you are in body
and mind. But I suppose the weary, aching body has the soul pretty well
enchained. Never mind, dear, it won't be so always; by and by the tables
will be turned, and you will be the conqueror. I like to think that far
less than a hundred years hence we shall all be free from the law of sin
and death, and happier in one moment of our new existence, than through
a whole life-time here. Rest must and will come, sooner or later, to you
and to me and to all of us, and it will be glorious. You may have seen a
notice of the death of Prof. Hopkins' mother at the age of ninety-five.
But for this terribly hot weather, I presume she might have lived to be
one hundred.

I shall not write you such a long letter again, as it will tire you, and
if you would rather have two short ones a week, I will do that. Let me
know if I tire you. Now good-bye, dear child; may God bless and keep you
and give you all the faith and patience you need.

_To Miss Mary B. Shipman, Dorset, Aug. 2, 1868._

We spent rather more than two weeks at Newport, taking two or three days
to run to Rochester, Mass., to see some of our old New Bedford friends.
We had a charming time with them, as they took us up just where they
left us nearly twenty years ago. Oh, how our tongues did fly! We left
Newport for home on Tuesday night about two weeks ago. I went on board
and went to bed as well as usual, tossed and turned a few hours, grew
faint and began to be sick, as I always am now if I lose my sleep; got
out of bed and could not get back again, and so lay on the floor all
the rest of the night without a pillow, or anything over me and nearly
frozen. The boys were asleep, and anyhow it never crossed my mind to let
them call George, who was in another state-room. He says that when he
came in, in the morning, I looked as if I had been ill six months, and I
am sure I felt so. Imagine the family picture we presented driving from
the boat all the way home, George rubbing me with cologne, A. fanning
me, the rest crying! On Saturday more dead than alive I started for this
place, and by stopping at Troy four or five hours, getting a room and a
bed, I got here without much damage.

Our house is very pretty, and I suppose it will be done by next year.
Oh, how they do poke! George is so happy in watching it, and in working
in his woods, that I am perfectly delighted that he has undertaken this
project. I