A change was approaching. The favored interval had been unusually long, and an amount of work had been accomplished of which we attempt not to give an idea. It had been to Mrs. Ware, as to her husband, a "golden age," in vigor, labor, and enjoyment. In the family, the school, and the community, both were busy, both happy. There was no diminution of care, rather an increase with an increasing family, unnumbered visitors, and interruptions, engagements, and claims, of every possible kind. But all this went on easily and naturally. A casual observer would not be likely to see that there was much done, or to be done. There was no hurry, no apparent exertion. Each caller or claimant was received so quietly, and listened to so patiently, that he might have thought he was the only one, or the favored. To be sure, Mrs. Ware felt, as we have seen, that there was no such thing as rest, nor time to do the half that she would. But very few saw the feeling, and it prevented neither her own serenity nor others' enjoyment. Very grateful did she feel for her husband's continued health and active usefulness. At the same time, we can see that her experienced eye and watchful heart discovered symptoms of coming change,--as in passages of her letters of different dates. "_December 31, 1841._ I look at my husband with a sort of wonder, to find that another whole year has passed without any serious consequences to his health. I dare not look forward for him, for it seems presumption to expect that he can be long exempt. His duties are very perplexing from their variety, and I think the effect upon his system, by harassing his mind, is really worse than a greater amount of labor would be upon a more concentrated and satisfactory object. He is the greater part of the time in that dragging, half-sick state, which leaves neither freedom of mind nor comfort of body. I often think he could be happier, and do in fact more good, in a parish, than here; and were it not that men at his time of life get to be too old-fashioned and 'conservative,' as the phrase is, to suit the rising generation, I should hope he might yet end his days in the vocation which he best loves. I would not have you suspect me of a discontented spirit; but my heart leaps at the idea of parish-meetings in my own parlor, and other _pastoreen_ enjoyments. But I have no care about the future, other than that which one must have,--a desire to fulfil the duties which it may bring. * * * * *