despatch from Miss W., saying they should be
here right away. I had let one of my women go out of town to a sick
sister, so I must turn chamber-maid and make the bed, dust, clear out
closet, cupboard, and bureau forthwith. This done, they arrived, which
took the time till half-past seven, when I excused myself and went to an
evening meeting, knowing it would be devoted to special prayer for the
husband and children of her who had gone. Got home half an hour behind
time and found a young man awaiting me who was converted last June, as
he hopes, while reading Stepping Heavenward. I had just got seated by
him when our doctor was announced; he had lost his only grandchild and
had come to talk about it. He stayed till half-past nine, when I went
back to my young friend, who stayed till half-past ten and gave a very
interesting history which I have not time to put on paper. He writes
me since, however, about his Christian life that "it gets sweeter and
sweeter," and I know you will be glad for me that I have this joy.

_Saturday Morning._--I was interrupted there, had visitors, had to go to
a fair, company again, so that I had not time to eat the food I needed,
went to see a poor sick girl, had more visitors, and at last, at eleven
P.M., scrambled into bed. Now I am finishing this, and if nobody
hinders, am going to mail it, and then go after a block of ice-cream
for that sick girl (isn't it nice, we can get it now done up in little
boxes, just about as much as an invalid can eat at one time). Then I
am going to see a poor afflicted soul that can't get any light on her
sorrow. Here comes my dear old man to read his sermon, so good-bye.

_To a young Friend, Dec. 20, 1870._

I have been led, during the last month or two, to a new love of the Holy
Spirit, or perhaps to more consciousness of the silent, blessed work He
is doing in and for us? and for those whose souls lie as a heavy and
yet a sweet burden upon our own. And joining with you in your prayers,
seeking also for myself what I sought for you, I found myself almost
startled by such a response as I can not describe. It was not joy, but a
deep solemnity which enfolded me as with a garment, and if I ever pass
out of it, which I never want to do, I hope it will be with a heart more
than ever consecrated and set apart for Christ's service. The more
I reflect and the more I pray, the more life narrows down to one
point--What am I being for Christ, what am I doing for Him? Wh