and thoroughly satisfactory principles, when they appear, [1846] make her a great favorite with me and with us all. Even her fictions, though so well told, are not wrought up, or full of romantic incident; but the tale is plainly used merely as a thread on which to string rich thoughts and lessons. How much this is the case with the "Lay of the Brown Rosary!" Even the sad pieces, such as the "Lost Bower," end generally with a gleam of light, not from a mere meteor of passion or sentiment, but from a day-spring of Christian hope. Perhaps I am too partial, for I know that taste, which in me is particularly gratified with E. Barrett, will influence our judgment. Some of Trench's poems, too, I think, are worth learning; his "Walk in the Churchyard" I particularly like. _3d Mo. 25th._ Letter to M.B. * * * But, oh, I do believe that if people did but accustom themselves to view small things as parts of large, moments as parts of life, intellects as parts of men, lives as parts of eternity, religion would cease to be the mere adjunct which it now is to many. * * * I am convinced that till it be made _the one_ object of our earnest love and endeavors, till we have an _upright_ heart, till the leader of the fir-tree points direct to heaven, and all lateral shoots not merely refrain from interfering, but mainly grow in order to support, nourish, and minister to it, we shall never have that perfect peace, that rest of spirit, that power to "breathe freely,"--conscious that we are _as_ if not _all_ that we ought to be,--which constitute the happiness of a Christian. But enough of this: don't think I pretend to any such attainment, though I can sometimes say, "I follow after." I much admired that part of Jane Taylor's "Remains" which describes her cheerful and unmurmuring acceptance of a humble quiet life, and her dislike of mere show and machinery in benevolence. I do not think the best public characters are those who accept formally, and for its own sake, a prominent station, but those who, following their individual duty, and occupying their peculiar gifts, are _thereby_ made honorable in the earth. To them, I fancy, _publicity_ is often an accident of small moment; and they who walk in the light of heaven mind little whether earthly eyes regard or disregard them. I do not, however, _covet_ for any one whom I love a conspicuous path. There must be many thorns and snares.