never
abiding _peace_, out of Him. Remember this whenever you feel the
oppression of that vague sense of unrest, of which, I doubt not, you
have a great deal underneath a careless outside; this is the thirst of
the soul for the only fountain at which it is worth while to drink. You
never will be really happy till Christ becomes your dearest and most
intimate friend. _7th._--We have had a tremendous fall of snow, and
Culyer says M. ought to wait an hour before starting for school, but she
is not willing and I am going with her to see that she is not buried
alive. Good-bye again, dearie! Will begin a new letter right away.

_Dec. 9th_--We went to see Mrs. W. this afternoon. Julia had typhoid
fever, which ran twenty-one days, and was delirious a good deal of the
time. She got ready to die before her confinement, though she said she
expected to live. After she became so very ill Mrs. W. heard her
praying for something "for Christ's sake," "for the sake of Christ's
_sufferings_," and once asked her what it was she was asking for so
earnestly. "Oh, to get well for Edward's sake and the baby's," she
replied. A few days before her death she called Mrs. W. to "come close"
to her, and said, "I am going to die. I did not think so when baby was
born, dear little thing--but now it is impressed upon me that I am."
Mrs. W. said they hoped not, but added, "Yet suppose you _should_ die,
what then?" "Oh I have prayed, day and night, to be reconciled, and I
am, _perfectly_ so. God will take care of Edward and of my baby. Perhaps
it is better so than to run the risk--" She did not finish the sentence.
The baby looks like her. Mrs. W. told her you had gone to Europe with
M., and she expressed great pleasure; but if she had known where _she_
was going, and to what, all she would have done would have been to give
thanks "for Christ's sake." I do not blame her, however, for clinging to
life; it was natural she should.

_10th_--We went, last evening, to hear Father Hyacinthe lecture on
"Charite" at the Academy of Music. I did not expect to understand a
word, but was agreeably disappointed, as he spoke very distinctly. Still
I did not enjoy hearing as well as I did reading it this morning--for
I lost some of the best things in a really fine address. It was a
brilliant scene, the very elite of intellectual society gathered around
one modest, unpretentious little man. Dr. and Mrs. Crosby were in the
box with us, and she, fortunately, had an opera