"It can be no new thought to _you_, that all sickness must be of uncertain result, and you understand too well the object of all the discipline of life, to shrink from any form of it which Providence may appoint. To you and me, strength and power seem so much our birthright, that we hardly know how to understand ourselves when they fail; but it certainly is not difficult to see why we peculiarly need the gentle monitions which sickness brings to us. It would seem as if some of the capacities for the enjoyment of the purely spiritual could not be formed in us without them; we should be too self-dependent, too confident in our own strength, to learn how to be the meek and lowly disciples, to whom are promised the fruits of faith and trust. I am sure that the sense I now have of liability to the development of fatal disease at any time, is the source of some of the most exalted moments of my present existence. So far from its lessening our enjoyment of all that we ought to enjoy belonging to life, it gives a keener sense of it, inasmuch as it puts in their true position all the trifles which are so apt to mar our comfort under common circumstances. I cannot but believe that you will derive great relief from this experiment; and if it does not reach all the difficulty, it certainly will do this good,--that, by removing some of the causes of irritation and consequent exhaustion, it leaves you more strength to contend with what may remain of disease,--and, after all, that is the main thing. "... I have had a very kind note from Miss Sedgwick, inclosing a letter from Madame Sismondi after reading Henry's Life. It was a most gratifying testimony to the influence of the truth upon a mind which had been educated to undervalue every thing proceeding from our form of faith." The younger son, to whom Mrs. Ware had written from Naushon, had now returned from England, where he had been for his health, and was placed at school in Exeter, in the well-known Phillips Academy. From his mother's letters to him while there, we should be glad to borrow largely, but must abridge. The number and fulness of these letters, when we remember the state of her health, the care of her family, and all else that she was doing, would surprise us, if we had not seen the same, virtually, in every period and position of her life. The letters themselves are written without effort or ornament, and contain much that would be called "common-place," because they aim only at those simplest truths and counsels which lie at the root of moral character.