_1st Mo. 15th,_ 1848. On the First-day before N. and F. left us, we had a sweet address (in meeting) from Uncle Rundell, on the grace which had been his "morning light, and which he trusted would be his evening song;" ending with his hope that all would be willing to "bear the cross," that finally they might "wear the crown," for it is the end that crowns the action. We thought it a farewell-sermon; and the joyful assurance in which it was uttered is precious to think of. On Third-day he walked with me in the meadow, but on Fourth-day sickness confined him to bed, and on Fifth-day he had lost all power of standing. Since then, he has been a patient helpless invalid, and constant and most interesting has been our occupation by turns, in waiting on him, gathering up his really precious words, and witnessing the yet more precious example and evidence of all-sufficient grace. Never may this season be forgotten by me, though not privileged to witness its close. To visit F., I left home in the First month, after a farewell to our precious uncle, which is not to be forgotten. He asked me if I was going the next day. I said yes, and that I was very sorry to leave him. He said, "Well, as thou art enabled, pray for me." I said, "And I hope thou won't forget me." He replied, "It is not likely." In the evening, as he sat by the fire, and spoke of my going to N. and F., he said, "Desire them, as they are enabled, to pray that I may be favored with patience and resignation to the end." When I said I must try to bid him farewell, hard as it was, he said, "May the Lord go with thee. Keep to the cross; despise not the day of small things. The Lord may see meet to employ thee in His service, and I wish that every gift that He dispenses to thee may be faithfully occupied with." A loving farewell followed, and I left--doubtless for the last time--our honored patriarch. At Neath I spent more than three weeks, enjoying the great kindness of my brother and sister, and the beauty of the country, then dressed in its winter garb, and the feeling of being in some measure useful. I was also blessed, at the beginning of my visit, with more than a common portion of spiritual blessing; and I think the first meeting I was at there was a time never to be forgotten--silent; but my poor soul seemed swallowed up of joy and peace such as I had never before known, at least so abidingly. The calmness and peace, and the daily bread, with which I was blessed in my little daily works and daily retirements for some days, make the time sweet to look back on, but grievous that I kept not my portion, and again wandered from mountain to hill, forgetting my resting-place. She afterwards accompanied her brother and sister to their new home at Ipswich. From a letter to one of her sisters. Ipswich, 3d Month.