"Yes, he came first, and it was that that put it into Charley's head to come. He is very kind to me." "Yes," I said, "and God is kind, too, isn't He?" "Kind to let me get sick and disgust Charley? Now, Katy, how can you talk so?" I replied by repeating two lines from a hymn of which I am very fond: 'O Saviour, whose mercy severe in its kindness, Hath chastened my wanderings, and guided my way.' "I don't much care for hymns," she said. "When one is well, and everything goes quite to one's mind, it is nice to go to church and sing with the rest of them. But, sick as I am, it isn't so easy to be religious." "But isn't this the very time to look to Christ for comfort?" "What's the use of looking anywhere for comfort?" she said, peevishly. "Wait till you are sick and heart-broken yourself, and you'll see that you won't feel much like doing anything but just groan and cry your life out." "I have been sick, and I know what sorrow means," I said. "And I am glad that I do. For I have learned Christ in that school, and I know that He can comfort when no one else can." "You always were an odd creature," she replied. "I never pretended to understand half you said." I saw that she was tired, and came away. Oh, how I wished that I had been able to make Christ look to her as He did to me all the way home. DEC. 24.-Father says he does not like Dr. Cabot's preaching. He thinks that it is not doctrinal enough, and that he does not preach enough to sinners. But I can see that it has influenced him already, and that he is beginning to think of God, as manifested in Christ, far more than he used to do. With me he has endless discussions on his and my favorite subjects, and though I can never tell along what path I walked to reach a certain conclusion, the earnestness of my convictions does impress him strangely. I am sure there is a great deal of conceit mixed up with all I say, and then when I compare my life with my own standard of duty, I wonder I ever dare to open my mouth and undertake to help others. Baby is not at all well. To see a little frail, tender thing really suffering, tears my soul to pieces. I think it would distress me less to give her to God just as she is now, a vital part of my very heart, than to see her live a mere invalid life. But I try to feel, as I know I say, Thy will be done! Little Ernest is the very picture of health and beauty. He has vitality enough for two children. He and his little sister will make very interesting contrasts as they grow older. His ardor and vivacity will rouse her, and her gentleness will soften him.