Wallcut gave us a very useful, solemn discourse, and I was strengthened by the service, and not injured by the excitement. "Heaven bless you! Your own "MARY." In September, Mrs. Ware returned to their own house in Boston,--that house in which she had been so happy, and to which she hoped soon to welcome her husband back again, in restored health. She writes at once. "_Sheafe Street, September 26, 1828._ "Here we are, dear Henry, as comfortable as you could wish, in our own dear house, more grateful and happy than I could easily describe, every thing looking just as if we had not been away. Never did the place look more comfortable,--I had almost said, beautiful;--I will say so, for there were so many delightful associations with it that it possessed a moral beauty, if I may say so, exceeding any other it _could_ have had. I feel finely, and am sure I am as able to do all that is necessary as I ever was. It is not necessary just now that I should make any violent efforts; there is no call for it. Elizabeth is with me, as happy as a child can be; and the 'young rogue' likes his home so well that he has turned over a new leaf at once, and I believe means to behave well. All we want now is your presence, and that I trust we shall have in the right time. O, how willing does all this experience make one to leave all things in His hands, who has brought us through such troubled waters so safely, so joyfully! I have gained since Sunday; at least, I have none of the confused feeling I then had, which made me fear my head was too light for Boston. It is getting _home_, I believe; home and its peacefulness are the best restoratives. I trust you will find it so. I shall walk a little every day, and call first on those in affliction and the sick; there are but few, astonishingly few, for the time; none that you have not heard of, I believe. Peace be with you, dearest! Your "MARY."