"These are some of the thoughts that darken the prospect, when I think of leaving the comforts and conveniences which we have only enjoyed one or two short summers--such as the enclosure for our children--our rude back porch which has served for a kitchen, the door into which I helped Mr. Riggs saw with a cross-cut saw, because he could get no one to help him. We located here in the midst of opposition and danger, yet God made our enemies to be at peace with us. Sad will be the hour when I take the last look of our low log cabins, our neat white chapel, and dear Thomas' grave." "LAC-QUI-PARLE, Dec. 10, 1846. "How pleasant it would be, dear mother, to join your little circle around home's hearth; but it is vain to wish, and so I take my pen, that this transcript of my heart may enter where I cannot. In one of the late New York _Observers_, I found a gem of poetry, which seemed so much like the gushings of my affection for my mother that I must send you the verse which pleased me best:-- "'Give me my old seat, mother, With my head upon thy knee; I've passed through many a changing scene, Since thus I sat by thee, "Oh, let me look into thine eyes-- Their meek, soft, loving light Falls like a gleam of holiness, Upon my heart, to-night!' "How very often have I found myself half wishing for my old seat, with my head upon thy knee, that I might impart to you my joys and my sorrows, and listen to your own. In times of difficulty and distress, how I have longed for your counsel and cheering sympathy. After leaving our home at Traverse des Sioux and reaching this place, my heart yearned to embrace you. My associates could not comprehend why it should be so trying to me to leave that place so dear to us. I had hoped to live and die and be buried there by the loved grave of Thomas. I had laid plans for usefulness there, and the change that came over us in one short week, during which we packed all our effects and prepared for the journey, was so sudden and so great that it often seemed I should sink under it. Had I been able to see it clearly our duty, the case would have been different. I hope it will prove for the best. Doubtless I was too much attached to that burial spot and that garden of roses. Henceforth, may I more fully realize that 'we have no abiding city here,' and, like a pilgrim, press onward to that eternal haven--that unchanging home--little mindful where I pass the few brief nights that may intervene." "Dec. 16.