lot. I am afraid I should never see precisely the right moment for
welcoming a new bird into my nest, dearly as I love the rustle of
their wings and the sound of their voices when they do come. And
surely He knows the right moments who knows all my struggles with a
certain sort of poverty, poor health and domestic care. If I could
feel that all the time, as I do at this moment, how happy I should
always be!

JANUARY 16, 1847.-This is the tenth anniversary of our wedding day,
and it has been a delightful one. If I were called upon to declare
what has been the chief element of my happiness, I should say it was
not Ernest's love to me or mine to him, or that I am once more the
mother of three children, or that my own dear mother still lives,
though I revel in each and all of these. But underneath them all,
deeper, stronger than all, lies a peace with God that I can compare
to no other joy, which I guard as I would guard hid treasure, and
which must abide if all things else pass away.

My baby is two months old, and her name is Ethel. The three children
together form a beautiful picture which I am never tired of admiring.
But they will not give me much time for writing. This little new
comer takes all there, is of me. Mother brings me pleasant reports of
Miss Clifford, who under her gentle, wise influence is becoming an
earnest Christian, already rejoicing in the Providence that arrested
her where it did, and forced her to reflection. Mother says we ought
to study God's providence more than we do since He has a meaning and
a purpose in everything He does. Sometimes I can do this and find it
a source of great happiness. Then worldly cares seem mere worldly
cares, and I forget that His wise, kind hand is in every one of them.