azy things, and am not sure I never do them now. Did you ever live in
a queerer world than this is?

_To Miss E.S. Gilman, New York, April 29, 1871._

The subject of your letter is one that greatly interests me, and I
should be glad to get more light upon it myself. As far as I know, those
who live apart from the world, communing with God and working for Him
chiefly in prayer, have least temptation to wandering and distracted
thoughts, and are more devout and spiritual than those of us who live
more in the world. But it stands to reason that we _can't_ all live so.
The outside work must go on, and somebody must do it. But of course we
have the hardest time, since while _in_ the world we must not be of
it. I have come, of late, to think that both classes are needed, the
contemplative and the active, and God does certainly take the latter
aside now and then as you suggest, by sickness and in other ways, to set
them thinking. Holiness is not a mere abstraction; it is praying and
loving and being consecrate, but it is also the doing kind deeds,
speaking friendly words, being in a crowd when we thirst to be alone,
and so on and so on. The study of Christ's life on earth reveals Him
to us as incessantly busy, yet taking _special_ seasons for prayer. It
seems to me that we should imitate Him in this respect, and when we find
ourselves particularly pressed by outward cares and duties, break short
off and withdraw from them till a spiritual tone returns. For we can
do nothing well unless we do it consciously for Christ, and this
consciousness sometimes gets jostled out of us when we undertake to do
too much. The more perfectly He is formed in us the more light we shall
get on every path of duty, the less likely to go astray from the happy
medium of not all contemplation, not all activity. And to have Him thus
to dwell in us we are led to pray by His own last prayer for us on
earth, when He asked for the "_I in them_." Let us pray for each other
that this may be our blessed lot. Nothing will fit us for life but this.
In ourselves we do nothing but err and sin. In Him we are complete.

* * * * *

II.

Her Husband called to Chicago. Lines on going to Dorset. Letters to
young Friends, on the Christian Life. Narrow Escape from Death. Feeling
on returning to Town. Her "Praying Circle." The Chicago Fire. The true
Art of Living. God our only safe Teacher. An easily-besetting Sin.
Counsels to young Fri