it seems to me I must leave them in God's hands and let
Him lead them as He will. It was very sweet to have the elements passed
to me by their young hands. Offer one earnest prayer for them at least,
that they may prove true soldiers and servants of Jesus Christ. No doubt
your two little sainted ones looked on and loved the children of their
mother's friend.

The following testimony of one of President Garfield's classmates and
intimate friends may fitly be added here:

"For him there was but one Mark Hopkins in all the world; but for
Professor Albert Hopkins also, or 'Prof. Al.,' as he was called in those
days, the General--not only while at college, but all through life--
entertained the highest regard, both as a man and a scholar. His
intellectual attainments were thought by Gen. G. to be of an unusually
fine order, rivalling those of his brother, and often eliciting the
admiration not only of himself, but of all the other students. In
speaking of his Williamstown life, Gen. Garfield always referred to
Prof. Hopkins in the most affectionate manner; and, both from his own
statements and my personal observation, I know that their mutual college
relations were of the pleasantest nature possible."

On the subject of perfection, you say I am looking for angelic
perfection. I see no difference in kind. Perfection is perfection to my
mind, and I have always thought it a dangerous thing for a soul to fancy
it had attained it. Yet, in her last letters to me, Miss ---- virtually
professes to have become free from sin. She says self and sin are the
same thing, and that she is entirely dead to self. What is this but
complete sanctification? What can an angel say more? I feel painfully
bewildered amid conflicting testimonies, and sometimes long to flee away
from everybody. Miss ----'s last letter saddened me, I will own.
You say, "I am in danger of becoming morbid, or stupid, or wild, or
something I ought not." Why in danger? According to your own doctrine
you are safe; being "entirely sanctified from moment to moment." At any
rate I can say nothing "to quicken" you, for I _am_ morbid and stupid,
though just now not wild. Those sharp temptations have ceased, though
perhaps only for a season; but I have been physically weakened by them,
and have got to take care of myself, go to bed early, and vegetate all
I can--and this when I ought to be hard at work ministering to other
souls. The fact is, I don't know anything and don't do