r in spirit, at all events. My thoughts have been busy
the past week with reviewing the years through which I have travelled,
hand in hand, with my dear husband; years full of sin, full of
suffering, full of joy; brimful of the loving-kindness and tender mercy
that smote often and smote surely. Your last letter only confirms what I
already knew, but am never tired of hearing repeated, the faithfulness
of God to those whom He afflicts. When we once find out what He is to
an aching, empty heart, we want to make everybody see just what we see,
and, until we try in vain, think we can. I had very peculiar feelings in
relation to you when your dear husband was, for a time, parted from you.
I knew God would never afflict you so, if He had not something beautiful
and blissful to give in place of what He took. And what can we ask for
that compares for one instant with "the almost constant felt presence of
our Saviour's sympathy and support"? Our human nature would like to have
the earthly and the divine friendship at once; but, if we must choose
between the twain, surely you and I would choose Christ without one
moment's hesitation. I hope you mention my name every day to Him as I do
yours, as I _love_ to do.

I enclose, and want you, when by yourself, to sing for my sake a little
hymn that I am sure is the language of your heart. My dear husband had
a few copies struck off to give friends. Write soon and often. Oh,
that you lived here or at Dorset. Good-bye, with warmest love, now
_twenty-five_ years old!

_To Mrs. Condict, New York, April 20, 1870._

Last Saturday was the twenty-fifth anniversary of our marriage, and a
very happy day to us both. My dear husband wrote me a letter that made
me tremble, lest he should get such hold of me as no human being must
have. I have a very curious feeling about life; a _satisfied_ one, and
as if it could not possibly give me much more than I now have. _"I have
lived, I have loved."_ [4] People often say they have so much to live
for; I can't feel so, though I am not only willing, but glad to live
while my husband and children need me; and yet--and yet--to have this
problem solved, and to be forever with the Lord! I want to see you. I
can no longer see my dear Mrs. B.; she is too ill, and that makes me
miss you the more. I hope that little MS. of mine did not task your
sympathies; I don't want you to pity me, but to magnify Him who took
such pains with me, and is carrying on just such wor